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Quackerdrill
17th November 2005, 4:59 AM
Yes. A preview. This will either be ignored or... ignored. XD So yes, a new fic from Quackerdrill already..... But this will be different. Unlike Destined Flames' successors, it will be much longer. And unlike Tangled Up, this will be one cohesive whole. This is an experiment, more than anything, and it will be determined by the treatment of this preview whether or not I will post it. Teh ha. Without further ado...

EDIT: Due to time constraints and lackluster reaction to this preview (thanx big for your help though, Saffire Persian! ^_^), I will be moving the post of Pressure back to the original date of 12/18/05. *pant pant*

Prologue

She ran; as far as she could from the coming force. It pounded ferociously on her hood while her feet dipped into the puddles of water that dotted the street. The cold, yet satisfying liquid chilled her legs with a chill of forgiveness, a rite of passage after the deed was done.

The task was complete yet an unfulfilled emotion ran up to meet her mind- it was not over. A sudden flash of piercing light created a bright panorama of white in the black night, nearly shaking her of balance as she ran. She still ran- there was nothing stopping her from her escape and the nature could try to shake her and still have no effect.

Rain was her friend, yet an enemy as well who often tore down her defenses and led to many a mistake. It was because of mistakes like these that she ran like she did then. Problems that could not be solved, memories that could not be erased… they fell as did the incoming raindrops. But as painful as the weather could be, it also was a guide to new pastures and healing when in need. Her petals often needed the nourishment of a night’s rain, but now they were hidden to await the morning. Like a plant she needed it. But also like a plant, she could be overfed.

The escape was required. She could not have stayed there and waited for fate. A wild one was born to roam, as her father had told her at a young age, and a young girl with enough passion and drive could chase dreams into the sunset long after the day had ended. This day had ended, and the sun had crept down behind the mountainside. It was time, her internal clock chimed, time to grow into the future that was laid before her. Escape from it was inevitable.

As another flash of lightning clashed into vision, bringing the day’s features into the night’s being, she stopped. That second, she took in the sights that were hidden by the dark’s shadow, the objects that were taken from the world at dusk. That second she also saw the rain in mid fall. The thought that all those drops would soon become one with others in the same puddle brought a tear to her eye and reminded her of what had occurred. The light then faded and she began her dash once more.

The thoughts in her mind were filled with reminders of the night prior to her escape; they were all fighting and connecting things quickly, piecing together her past and her future. It was often that such a thing happened during the rain.

Her hood had become sopping wet with the rain, and her head was ridden with the streaks of cold water that ran down to the pull-strings of her sweatshirt. The way the drops congregated in the material of her clothing was a perfect symbol of the nature of the night. But watching the others fly helplessly into the concrete and smattering into miniscule pieces of their former being brought a separate feeling; one of a completely different emotion. What had happened had its two sides, she supposed. But most everything does…

Her hair had finally met with the rain obstructing her vision of the path in front of her, and attached itself to her forehead. This may have bothered her in the past, but she had the will and strength at the time that it was as if just another raindrop had hit her shoulder. Just another one of the many. The deep growl of thunder then rumbled in the distance and shook her vocal chords, causing her deep breaths to become shaky and coarse as she ran. It, as with the rain, was something that attempted to change her being but failed. She just kept going. Saying that she was simply on a roll was an understatement.

With a swift glance to her left she saw a bench that stood alone in the pouring rain, its wood doused with water and posing a threat to anyone who dared to sit on it. But she looked upon it with pity rather than fear, for she saw that they shared many things in common. Both of them had stood without much protection in the harsh weather, and both were always the same and never let the winds, or in this case, the rains change them. A good quality for a bench yet questionable for a person. Nonetheless she sat on its steady foundation and leaned back onto its cold upright.

From the seat she could watch the rain fall swiftly yet calmly as it dropped in groups of three, sometimes four; it had definitely calmed down since her initial escape. As did she- she at last thought it was needed to take a rest from her rush. It was rare that her mind change that quickly, from a desperate hope to escape to reasoning for rest… it even impressed her. She shook out her blond hair, although it blended into the background enough where it was impossible to tell, and drew out the water that plagued it. It was messed now, but she had other things on her mind. It was as it should have been. The weather… the event… her mind. Not as I planned, she thought, but amazingly perfect.

The woman nodded downwards and released a small giggle. Her hair was soon enough doused once more in the rain. The rain she loved.

***

It flew with the starlight emblazoned within its eyes yet knew deep in its heart that the fire was almost done burning. The majestic blaze of flames that trailed the Moltres’ every movement lit up the night and created a red-orange blur in the sky where it flew, as if a painter was gently applying a coat of red to a black, empty canvas. It was captivating to the people below, yet reprimanding, as they all knew the true meaning of its existence.

The Moltres was there as a guardian and the sole protector of the small, dusty town. It led a calm life in which it watched the townspeople from above and peered into their lives from its usual post on the top of the cathedral. With circular black eyes that pierced down into the desert-like surrounding it took the responsibility of serving the town as its omniscient angel. If there was something that it did not know in its powerful mind, it was something that never existed. It was only a matter of getting into that tightly concealed mind that was an issue.

As the creature's final flaps of its grand wings led to the last stop on its roundabout tour of town, the Moltres’ orange-white feathers ruffled slightly. It at last grasped its aged talons onto the wooden cross above the stoic cathedral and rested. And it did this every day, as long as there was life in its soul and people in the town of Tyreville, it would do just that. But there was always human disturbance.

That exact cycle was interrupted on a dry summer day in late June. The Moltres did not show up that day and the townspeople all gathered outside their doors, all looking up at the church tower in pure hope. Their faces quickly became saddened as the day drifted on without their graceful deity on its post. There was no explanation. There was no account of why it made its departure or by what means it left. Just a town without a protector, though spiritual was all its protecting was.

The years flew in Tyreville and the town was eventually deserted as most of the small towns of Johto were by the year 1992. It had become a home to the metropolis, the home to the innovative and the new. But the town did not completely lose its life. It became a farming community, with family-owned businesses and a feeling of family togetherness as only a tightly-knit community could provide. But that sense of pride was gone… that sense of protection was gone… and the only thing the people saw after that dry summer day was rain and clouds. Dark monstrous clouds, clouds that either pained the villagers or brought them inspiration.

And inspiration was a lacking emotion these days.

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Sooooo? Reply pleeeeasse!

Saffire Persian
19th November 2005, 4:58 AM
Personally, I liked it.

Whatever that girl's problems are is what intrigues me the most. She's pretty much an enigma to me at this point, and the emotions and the connections she feels with the things around her, was a lovely display of prose. A lot of thought - a lot of introspection. It makes me want to know everything about this girl. Although, I would have liked to at least seen her name in the narrative, otherwise it feels a tad disconnected. Having 'she' 'she' 'she' over and other can get repetitive, although it didn't dull my enjoyment.

I guess it's a pet peeve of mine, maybe.

The next section with Moltres was very nice - I'm a fan of Pokemon perspectives. I liked how you portrayed it as the Guardian of this little town, and no doubt this Moltres has a large part to play - which I look forward to.

There were a few things in your story that could use some ironing out - such as the lack of punctuation - most notably commas. Though I'm no grammarian myself, I easily noticed the scarcity of punctuation in your story, which can often confuse and muddle your narrative. Commas make things flow needer - it gives us a pause so we're not left constantly with a whole string of words. It makes it a lot easier to read - for me anyway.

Though keep in mind, mechanics are one of the last things in my list that I look for in the story - the foremost is character, which you have done superbly off.

I also noticed a few sentences that I found awkward to read. Here's one example:


As the creatures final flaps of its grand wings led to the last stop on its roundabout tour of town, the Moltres’ orange-white feathers ruffled slightly

Try reading it out loud. You could edit it to something like this:


The Moltres' feathers ruffled slightly, as it reached the last legs of its habitual tour of the town.

Or something along those lines - the sentence seemed both wordy and awkward to me. Also awkward was the aburpt shift from Moltres POV to that of the townspeople after you commented on how it always did the tour every day. It was wayyy abrupt - jarring.

Perhaps you could tell how it decided to stop its usual flight around the town - or have that all in the people's perspective - how they always loved to see the legendary bird Moltres fly out their window - and how it was strange how it suddenly stopped.

Or, at least, have some kind of break in between perspectives. Perhaps you didn't mean to change perspectives, or you meant something different by your prose, which are excellent. That's just how I saw it. Hope it helps. ^^

Quackerdrill
19th November 2005, 8:43 PM
Thank you, thank you, thank you for taking a look at this! First of all, the name was witheld on purpose; thus the only option I had was to use "she", for I hate using "the girl" or such unless I absolutely have to. Bleh. But yes, that sense of mystery was what I was mostly trying to convey. And commas? Really? See, I had toned do my usage of them because in every single (concise) review of my prior works, "too many commas" popped up. So obviously I had to fix that... but yeah, in my mind there are not enough commas, too. ^_^ And that sentence, that pesky sentence... yeah, it sounded weird at first when I wrote it, too. But I didn't see any POV change-
As the creature's final flaps of its grand wings led to the last stop on its roundabout tour of town, the Moltres’ orange-white feathers ruffled slightly The first part of the sentence (marked in italics), is third person. Note that I caught my mistake of not having the "creatures" be possesive. If I wanted to do a first person dealie for that, I woudn't have put "I" instead of "the creature", right? I just did not want to write Moltres over and over again, that's all. Same with "she" again... XD I see how that could have been akward. And wordy. I n fact, I may just change it. That is the purpose of a preview, after all!

One again, thanx!