Only 1 chapter?
Oct 24, 2008 6:44:42 GMT -5
Post by The Outlaw Torn on Oct 24, 2008 6:44:42 GMT -5
This is a story I started a very long time ago that I titled "Scarlet". The idea was to write a BIONICLE version of a Thomas Harris-style novel (you know, the guy that wrote that book with Hannibal in it?).
As I haven't read Thomas Harris in a long time (and am therefore "out of the groove"), and since I'm much better at coming up with ideas than actually writing them down (GAH!), I have no present intentions of pursuing this "novel". But I just wanted to post the beginning of Chapter 1, just to see what people thought of it.
So here it is. If you could take the time to review, I would be grateful. But I won't beg... *whimper*
CHAPTER 1
Amaya smiled, the Cowrie Shell in her hand making a scraping sound as she pressed it against a Harakeke root, a ritual movement her body learned from daily repetition. "I'm sorry," she said lightly, "but I can't. I have work to do."
Kotu let out a sigh behind her mask, but was not going to be let down so easily. "Oh, come on, Amaya. Pelagia found an awesome fishing site--where did you say it was, 24/7, Pelagia?--and we have everything set up at my place. It won't be any fun without you."
Amaya paused for a second, her head cocked as if to think. "Really?" she said. "Well, it doesn't matter. Flax doesn't make itself."
"Flax isn't... protodermis in a purification chamber to be fussed over so much," Kotu replied. "It can wait. Come on!"
Amaya looked at Kotu for a second. "Protodermis in a purification chamber" was an example of the many analogies she used when attempting to sound smart, but they only made her sound clumsy. Still, maybe she was right.
"Okay, maybe so," she said. "So I guess this means we'll be taking your ferry, Pelagia?" she added with a smile.
Pelagia blushed with pride, nostalgia filling her eyes. Ferries were no longer common transportation as they were on Mata Nui. "Yep. Ol' Kittu." Her rough accent hit the air. "She's waiting for us at the Dock. Pretty as ever."
"So you're coming?" Kotu asked hopefully.
Amaya turned her attention back to the Harakeke in her hand, and for a moment Kotu was afraid that she was finally rendered incapable of fun. Poor Amaya, she thought, as if she actually believed it.
But Amaya was only taking a second to cut off a finishing length and set it aside for later use. Then, looking up, she smiled and said, "Let's go!"
* * * *
The Ga-Metru district is characterized as a peaceful neighborhood, and indeed, even in the early afternoon, when most of the work is done, little can be said of the noise: the gentle sound of the protodermis waters wavering with a silver sheen; the quiet thudding sound of your own footsteps on the metallic streets; the occasional strong breeze. Also the Metru Nui seagulls would beckon to the inhabitants with a soft call in the heavens.
First stopping by Kotu's home to pick up the fishing gear (three 4-foot fishing poles made of bamboo, and a metal bucket of wreething worms that Kotu had gathered with care), they headed on their way north-east, not taking the repaired chutes in order to avoid spilling the worms. Ga-Matoran they passed gave them jealous but friendly looks, regretting that they still had work to do.
"Going beaver-hunting?" said one in a cheerful voice, as if eager to tell absurd jokes.
"No, Menie," Kotu replied, "we were just wood-hunting." Kotu was not to be outdone at absurd jokes.
Menie's clear laughter passed by them. Soon, another sound greeted them, that of water entering and pouring out of purification chambers nearby. Amaya smiled at the sound, remembering Kotu's joke. Matoran homes became fewer and fewer until they were left nearly alone, and finally the artificial land became narrow and ended at a long wooden dock.
One of the few non-metal surfaces in Ga-Metru, it was therefore known by the Ga-Matoran metru-wide as "the Dock" (though of course there were many other docks). Resting in the water was "Old Kittu," a bright blue boat, tied to the end of the Dock with a rope. Pelagia looked at it with approval. Like a picture out of the past it floated quietly, and for a moment it was like they were at Mata Nui, in Ga-Koro again, except that the water now danced in the sunlight instead of resting peacefully in an ocean of blue.
* * * *
Yeah, it's short. But the idea for the story was really cool.
Oh well. But I really would like to someday write something and FINISH it. I have an idea for a new story right now, but I have no idea where to begin.
Again, any comments would be welcome.
~The Outlaw Torn
As I haven't read Thomas Harris in a long time (and am therefore "out of the groove"), and since I'm much better at coming up with ideas than actually writing them down (GAH!), I have no present intentions of pursuing this "novel". But I just wanted to post the beginning of Chapter 1, just to see what people thought of it.
So here it is. If you could take the time to review, I would be grateful. But I won't beg... *whimper*
CHAPTER 1
Amaya smiled, the Cowrie Shell in her hand making a scraping sound as she pressed it against a Harakeke root, a ritual movement her body learned from daily repetition. "I'm sorry," she said lightly, "but I can't. I have work to do."
Kotu let out a sigh behind her mask, but was not going to be let down so easily. "Oh, come on, Amaya. Pelagia found an awesome fishing site--where did you say it was, 24/7, Pelagia?--and we have everything set up at my place. It won't be any fun without you."
Amaya paused for a second, her head cocked as if to think. "Really?" she said. "Well, it doesn't matter. Flax doesn't make itself."
"Flax isn't... protodermis in a purification chamber to be fussed over so much," Kotu replied. "It can wait. Come on!"
Amaya looked at Kotu for a second. "Protodermis in a purification chamber" was an example of the many analogies she used when attempting to sound smart, but they only made her sound clumsy. Still, maybe she was right.
"Okay, maybe so," she said. "So I guess this means we'll be taking your ferry, Pelagia?" she added with a smile.
Pelagia blushed with pride, nostalgia filling her eyes. Ferries were no longer common transportation as they were on Mata Nui. "Yep. Ol' Kittu." Her rough accent hit the air. "She's waiting for us at the Dock. Pretty as ever."
"So you're coming?" Kotu asked hopefully.
Amaya turned her attention back to the Harakeke in her hand, and for a moment Kotu was afraid that she was finally rendered incapable of fun. Poor Amaya, she thought, as if she actually believed it.
But Amaya was only taking a second to cut off a finishing length and set it aside for later use. Then, looking up, she smiled and said, "Let's go!"
* * * *
The Ga-Metru district is characterized as a peaceful neighborhood, and indeed, even in the early afternoon, when most of the work is done, little can be said of the noise: the gentle sound of the protodermis waters wavering with a silver sheen; the quiet thudding sound of your own footsteps on the metallic streets; the occasional strong breeze. Also the Metru Nui seagulls would beckon to the inhabitants with a soft call in the heavens.
First stopping by Kotu's home to pick up the fishing gear (three 4-foot fishing poles made of bamboo, and a metal bucket of wreething worms that Kotu had gathered with care), they headed on their way north-east, not taking the repaired chutes in order to avoid spilling the worms. Ga-Matoran they passed gave them jealous but friendly looks, regretting that they still had work to do.
"Going beaver-hunting?" said one in a cheerful voice, as if eager to tell absurd jokes.
"No, Menie," Kotu replied, "we were just wood-hunting." Kotu was not to be outdone at absurd jokes.
Menie's clear laughter passed by them. Soon, another sound greeted them, that of water entering and pouring out of purification chambers nearby. Amaya smiled at the sound, remembering Kotu's joke. Matoran homes became fewer and fewer until they were left nearly alone, and finally the artificial land became narrow and ended at a long wooden dock.
One of the few non-metal surfaces in Ga-Metru, it was therefore known by the Ga-Matoran metru-wide as "the Dock" (though of course there were many other docks). Resting in the water was "Old Kittu," a bright blue boat, tied to the end of the Dock with a rope. Pelagia looked at it with approval. Like a picture out of the past it floated quietly, and for a moment it was like they were at Mata Nui, in Ga-Koro again, except that the water now danced in the sunlight instead of resting peacefully in an ocean of blue.
* * * *
Yeah, it's short. But the idea for the story was really cool.
Oh well. But I really would like to someday write something and FINISH it. I have an idea for a new story right now, but I have no idea where to begin.Again, any comments would be welcome.
~The Outlaw Torn
