r_j_dando
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Feb 16, 2012
- Messages
- 110
Hi folks!
The beginning to something that jumped out at me this week, and I'm curious to get reactions to it. Ages of characters, overall feel, too much/ too little description, that sort of high level crit would be most useful. Thanks in advance for any advice
* * * * *
Tiger crouched in the dirt at the side of the wooden building, drawing her thin fingers through the mud. The lines formed symbols, complex and interwoven, ragged edges in the grit and soil. Straight black hair, plastered to her skull by the persistent rain, hung down in front of her eyes and dripped onto the marks she made. The rain drummed a staccato beat onto the wooden shingle roof, poured off the edge in a waterfall, and ran down the centre of the street in an ochre river. Tiger shivered. There were safer places to be, that much was certain. Coming back here, after everything Durio had done to her, was like dancing along the cloud path with her eyes closed. Terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
“Ariham curse this place,” she murmured, the marks under her fingers growing deeper as she retraced them. The yellowish mud was icy cold and gritty under her broken nails. “And all who claim shelter here.” A sharp stone sliced into the skin on her finger and she winced. Blood was good. It would wash into the ground and strengthen the curse.
Thunder rumbled around the mist-shrouded mountains as the storm growled. Tiger felt the hairs on her arms prick up at the sound. The cut on her finger throbbed.
A child screamed inside the building, to be almost immediately silenced. Tiger gouged out the last symbol and stood, pale mud coating her hands and knees. Her breath came in fast, shallow gulps, and she clenched her hands so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She watched the doorway, waiting. Screamers never lasted.
Sure enough, the door was flung open and a girl, a few years younger than Tiger, was pushed out. She stumbled awkwardly on the wet stairs and fell, landing in a deep puddle. There was blood at the side of her mouth and tears in her eyes. The short, grey dress she wore was torn and stained, and now soaked through. Her name was Adhari - although Tiger mostly knew her as Adi. The girl’s eyes searched the surrounding area for anyone who could help. Their black gaze landed on Tiger; standing out of sight of the doorway at the side of the building.
Tiger put a mud-dirty finger to her lips and shook her head.
Adi struggled to her feet, clutching the remains of her dress tight around her. She gulped down her sobs, trying not to cry.
“Get back to the home,” said a man’s voice. “Send one of the others.”
Something inside Tiger bubbled up to the surface at the sound of that voice. Memories of pain and hurt and humiliation rose within her, white-hot and furious.
“You’re a feisty little tiger, ain’t you? Well, we’ll soon beat that out of you...”
She knew she should be scared - but the anger overrode the fear.
Tiger stepped forward, walking barefoot through the mud to stand at the bottom of the stairs. She kept her eyes on the doorway the whole time, watching as the skinny man in the shelter of the building saw her. His blue eyes bulged with disbelief as he saw her.
“You!”
Tiger pushed Adhari behind her. The younger girl was trembling, whether with fear or cold, Tiger didn’t know.
“You’re dead.” He looked shaken. “A gahette. You’re not real.”
“You’re right, Durio.” She took a step towards him, and he flinched. “A gahette. A dead girl, walking. And I curse you. Do you know what that means?”
He said nothing. His lips grew thinner, pressed tight together. She knew that look - he was angry, and she didn’t care.
“With my blood I curse you. The gods see through my eyes, and now they see what you do.”
“Heathen idols,” he sneered. “Make-believe fantasies.”
Tiger shook her head. “But you don’t really think that, do you? How else do you explain me standing here?”
“You were still alive when I dumped you...” he faltered, uncertain. “Someone found you.”
“Someone did.” Her heart was thumping so loudly she was convinced he could hear it.
“It’s not possible...” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“The gods look at you, and do you know what they see? Worms. Maggots. Things that crawl and eat the dead and they see you and you are beneath those creatures. You can’t hurt me any more.”
He came down the stairs in two swift steps and had his hands about her throat before she could move.
“Would you like to put that to the test?” he hissed, his breath hot and vile on her skin. “Do you think you can't die twice?”
She fought back, kicked out, scratched at him with her nails, but he held on. He was short, ill-nourished like the rest of them, but strong. Tiger felt the blood pounding in her head and her struggles growing weaker. She could hear the younger girl crying, or maybe the sobs were her own. She couldn’t think. She did not want to die again. Death was a cold, lonely place.
“You shouldn’t have returned, dead girl,” Durio said, and as she looked with darkening vision into his eyes, she knew he was right.
There was a low rumbling, deep from within the ground below them. Her tormentor’s expression grew wary.
“Is this you? Did you do this?”
The rumbling grew to a grinding, wet sound, and the earth began to shake.
Durio swore. He let go of Tiger, pushing her sideways, and staggered across the lurching ground like a drunken man.
Tiger, her head spinning, was dimly aware of Adhari grasping her hand and pulling her somewhere, splashing through slippery mud and yellow-brown water. She heard men shouting and screaming over the screech of splintering wood and the roar of earth and rock.
She turned in time to see the side of the hill collapse, sliding down into the deep valley with a deafening rush. And in the centre, she caught a brief glimpse of the red, wood-shingled roof of the house where Durio and his friends had caused her so much pain. Then it was gone, swallowed up in a mess of earth and rock and water.
The beginning to something that jumped out at me this week, and I'm curious to get reactions to it. Ages of characters, overall feel, too much/ too little description, that sort of high level crit would be most useful. Thanks in advance for any advice
* * * * *
Tiger crouched in the dirt at the side of the wooden building, drawing her thin fingers through the mud. The lines formed symbols, complex and interwoven, ragged edges in the grit and soil. Straight black hair, plastered to her skull by the persistent rain, hung down in front of her eyes and dripped onto the marks she made. The rain drummed a staccato beat onto the wooden shingle roof, poured off the edge in a waterfall, and ran down the centre of the street in an ochre river. Tiger shivered. There were safer places to be, that much was certain. Coming back here, after everything Durio had done to her, was like dancing along the cloud path with her eyes closed. Terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
“Ariham curse this place,” she murmured, the marks under her fingers growing deeper as she retraced them. The yellowish mud was icy cold and gritty under her broken nails. “And all who claim shelter here.” A sharp stone sliced into the skin on her finger and she winced. Blood was good. It would wash into the ground and strengthen the curse.
Thunder rumbled around the mist-shrouded mountains as the storm growled. Tiger felt the hairs on her arms prick up at the sound. The cut on her finger throbbed.
A child screamed inside the building, to be almost immediately silenced. Tiger gouged out the last symbol and stood, pale mud coating her hands and knees. Her breath came in fast, shallow gulps, and she clenched her hands so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She watched the doorway, waiting. Screamers never lasted.
Sure enough, the door was flung open and a girl, a few years younger than Tiger, was pushed out. She stumbled awkwardly on the wet stairs and fell, landing in a deep puddle. There was blood at the side of her mouth and tears in her eyes. The short, grey dress she wore was torn and stained, and now soaked through. Her name was Adhari - although Tiger mostly knew her as Adi. The girl’s eyes searched the surrounding area for anyone who could help. Their black gaze landed on Tiger; standing out of sight of the doorway at the side of the building.
Tiger put a mud-dirty finger to her lips and shook her head.
Adi struggled to her feet, clutching the remains of her dress tight around her. She gulped down her sobs, trying not to cry.
“Get back to the home,” said a man’s voice. “Send one of the others.”
Something inside Tiger bubbled up to the surface at the sound of that voice. Memories of pain and hurt and humiliation rose within her, white-hot and furious.
“You’re a feisty little tiger, ain’t you? Well, we’ll soon beat that out of you...”
She knew she should be scared - but the anger overrode the fear.
Tiger stepped forward, walking barefoot through the mud to stand at the bottom of the stairs. She kept her eyes on the doorway the whole time, watching as the skinny man in the shelter of the building saw her. His blue eyes bulged with disbelief as he saw her.
“You!”
Tiger pushed Adhari behind her. The younger girl was trembling, whether with fear or cold, Tiger didn’t know.
“You’re dead.” He looked shaken. “A gahette. You’re not real.”
“You’re right, Durio.” She took a step towards him, and he flinched. “A gahette. A dead girl, walking. And I curse you. Do you know what that means?”
He said nothing. His lips grew thinner, pressed tight together. She knew that look - he was angry, and she didn’t care.
“With my blood I curse you. The gods see through my eyes, and now they see what you do.”
“Heathen idols,” he sneered. “Make-believe fantasies.”
Tiger shook her head. “But you don’t really think that, do you? How else do you explain me standing here?”
“You were still alive when I dumped you...” he faltered, uncertain. “Someone found you.”
“Someone did.” Her heart was thumping so loudly she was convinced he could hear it.
“It’s not possible...” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“The gods look at you, and do you know what they see? Worms. Maggots. Things that crawl and eat the dead and they see you and you are beneath those creatures. You can’t hurt me any more.”
He came down the stairs in two swift steps and had his hands about her throat before she could move.
“Would you like to put that to the test?” he hissed, his breath hot and vile on her skin. “Do you think you can't die twice?”
She fought back, kicked out, scratched at him with her nails, but he held on. He was short, ill-nourished like the rest of them, but strong. Tiger felt the blood pounding in her head and her struggles growing weaker. She could hear the younger girl crying, or maybe the sobs were her own. She couldn’t think. She did not want to die again. Death was a cold, lonely place.
“You shouldn’t have returned, dead girl,” Durio said, and as she looked with darkening vision into his eyes, she knew he was right.
There was a low rumbling, deep from within the ground below them. Her tormentor’s expression grew wary.
“Is this you? Did you do this?”
The rumbling grew to a grinding, wet sound, and the earth began to shake.
Durio swore. He let go of Tiger, pushing her sideways, and staggered across the lurching ground like a drunken man.
Tiger, her head spinning, was dimly aware of Adhari grasping her hand and pulling her somewhere, splashing through slippery mud and yellow-brown water. She heard men shouting and screaming over the screech of splintering wood and the roar of earth and rock.
She turned in time to see the side of the hill collapse, sliding down into the deep valley with a deafening rush. And in the centre, she caught a brief glimpse of the red, wood-shingled roof of the house where Durio and his friends had caused her so much pain. Then it was gone, swallowed up in a mess of earth and rock and water.
