Cozy :
Yes. Of course I do.
I feel like the sense of originality in writers' works nowadays is waning.
I say this not just as a user of Wattpad, but of Ficwad as well.
Maybe it's because they've not developed as a writer yet, or perhaps they've simply been influenced by the generic bestsellers. Not just in Fantasy, but also in other genres - Romance, Action, Horror, Satire, it's kind-of broad if you look at it that way.
But that is no excuse to abandon your own writing style just to pursue the path they have once walked.
When they write their story, their idea and goal in mind is clear. They want to write this message, they want to show their readers that this is possible, this was what could have been, this is something that probably happened in another world, another reality.
But these blind sheep who pursue after the stars in the sky... They walk the cobble path built and established by others before them, without really knowing why. And when they reach the end of that cobble path, they think to themselves, 'Hmm. Perhaps I can continue this cobble path myself!'
Don't. All roads end for a reason. They are to remind us that there is beauty in transience. It is because something starts (and ends) that makes the journey meaningful. Knowing that the road ends, and knowing that the walk along the cobble path is what's truly important, that is what separates a writer from a fan-fiction author.
Besides, it's not like you have the skills necessary to make the cobble path of the same quality. I've seen children do continuations of a local drama in Singapore on Wattpad, and it is god awful. Somewhere down the path, the only characters that mattered are the two the fanfic writer wanted to bring together. Everyone else was blotted out of the way, blatantly ignored. If they ever re-occurred, their presence was either for a gag or a justification / means of sorts to bring the two characters closer than the original author intended.
At that point, I wasn't exactly sure whether to cough blood, or to laugh. The fanfiction is pitiable, a mere mesh of the author's desires to a) appeal to the original author (how? Does the original author, a 30 or 40-something old *wo*man use Wattpad?) or b) satisfy their own desires.
I'll admit, I have had people ask me, 'Cozy why do you always write sad stories or tragedies' To which I say, that is my means of telling myself the cold truth of reality. Never hope for the best and always plan for the worst. To remind myself, that this is the cold, lonely road I will walk, without any warmth left in my body.
I don't expect everyone to follow my example. In fact, I hope nobody follows my example. I know how self-destructive my behavior is. I am clearly aware of it, and yet I'm typing this calmly, with a stoic look on my face. Kind of creepy and kind of weird, but this clarity is something else, I tell you. And yet, the fact remains - I never expect things to go my way. It never does - Both in my stories, and in my life.
So, how do we indoctrinate the seed of creativity into the people today such that they may start producing original, innovative content?
Let's start by discussing a hypothetical scenario. Cozy transition go!
*** ***
You are a man tasked with the ordeal of retrieving a very specific treasure from a dragon.
Let's not call this dragon Smaug, shall we? Let us call it... Nogard. Because Cozy's naming sense is incredible in the completely wrong direction.
This is the challenge - You, alone with no other men to bring with you except an observer, are sent to recover a heirloom that belongs to the Talfemic royalty - The king's scepter, a symbol of both leadership and humility which may return the country to peace if brought back.
However, Nogard the dragon had taken it from them and hoarded it for himself. Or... Herself. Yeah, let's go with a female dragon this time. Gotta make it lay dragon eggs and turn up a notch on its hostility towards intruders.
You need to take back the scepter. But how will you do that?
Approaching the dragon carelessly = Getting a blast of flames unto your entirety
Sneaking in at night = Same fate as above if it- Ahem, if she ever catches you
Drugging the animals it eats to put it into torpor = Dragon gets suspicious and patrols the caverns, which makes remaining undetected even harder
Attacking the dragon head-on = Suicide
Approaching the dragon carefully = Some form of negotiation is possible, but what will you exchange the scepter for, your life? You have nothing!
Stealing an egg = Risk of getting caught, and success in this task enrages the dragon who proceeds to set ablaze any village or town she happens to fly by. Sure, you can sneak in and retrieve the scepter while she's out raging, but that defeats the purpose of retrieving the scepter to restore peace, doesn't it?
So how will you reach the scepter?
...
*** ***
I don't know about you, but I'll approach this in a few ways.
1) I snuff the dragon out. Block all the entrances and exits it has, and deprive it of oxygen. This option is not possible if she sleeps in a place with an open roof.
2) I gather the poisonous plants in the area, and start a new habitat in the region to change the ecosystem. When the dragon is starved of resource around her and has to fly out quite far for food, I grab the scepter and go back quick.
3) I mess with the dragon. I grab a bucket of mud every afternoon, and every night the dragon sleeps, I dump mud over her. Over and over, again and again, every single night. For every minute she sleeps in ease, I punish her by preventing her from sleeping. It only works when there's an open area to dump mud from, and it's very dangerous, but it will eventually work, and the dragon flies out for a bath.
I then muddy its eggs, and the dragon has to regulate her eggs' temperature again rapidly. Basically, where she thinks she can take it easy (like a housewife who's finished the chores) I give her MORE chores to do~! Mwa-hahahahahah!! Eventually she'll have to become so tired that she can no longer respond to an intruder, I sneak in and then take the scepter.
4) I go in and brush its teeth clean while it's asleep. I then continue this grooming every night on its teeth, back, wings, tail and pretty much her whole body, and the dragon will eventually notice that I've been coming in every night to clean her up. She won't mind my presence, and I keep this up for about 4 months. Then, on a night she doesn't expect, I take the treasure from her and leave. This only works if I can confirm she pretends to sleep to lower the intruder's guard, though.
There are many ways and solutions to obtain the treasure. In fact, profressing your crime after the deed is done is also a possibility, if you are a person of honor.
*** ***
The point I was trying to make above is that writers are special. When you're a writer, you're not in the backseat. You determine so much more than 'just the story' as a writer. I search online, and see this "Make your own story" story makers and I feel like vomiting.
Like, for the love of- Stop with these horrible flash player story makers and actually let the children write a story, why not?
Think about this - When you read the fight scenes in WoP Quest, do you feel motivated to write something of equal caliber? Do you feel the adrenaline from reading the battle alone, like you're learning from the enemy and you're actually part of the fight instead of being a mere observer?
My goal in WoP Quest, as a standard for those whom will come after me... I wish to make a story that innovates the people behind me to write better, more exciting and mind-bending epic fight scenes.
I hope that these fights will inspire people to become even more creative with their fights, and to actually write a good one that is worth the read. Rather than those B-rated movies where the good guy starts beating up the big bad guy with loads of camera shake, or the lame kind where it's just an RPG to end it all, I hope there can genuinely be a truly well-planned battle to go along with the climax. My fights are kind-of short and though they are intense, they are quite underwhelming because of the length, though.
But fret not; It will change as we go along, as we go deeper. Consider everything you'll see in this route as a warm-up, please; You won't be able to handle the really spicy fights like Ian vs. Pierre, or Jullan vs. Pierre, or Katachi vs Roberia, or Katachi vs. Aozu Makoto, Milos Nidzkova vs. Minami, Katachi vs. Jullan, Milos vs. Lubhera, Katachi vs. Kavnel, Ian vs. Bertund, Roberia vs. maddened Byrh, Sgithilth vs. Kavnel, to name a few of the battles coming up.
If you can't prepare yourself for the extremely heated fights to come, you won't be able to make it all the way; Let alone the ultimate climax in Endus Reignum, Katachi vs. Lubhera. That one... Holy shit. That one will, hopefully, have you screaming at the screen "I KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN, HOLY SHIT, KATACHI YOU SUNOVA- HOLY FUCK" and the hype reaches a climax along with the battle.
I hope it's a "I TOTALLY SAW THAT COMING" instead of a "I SHOULD HAVE SEEN THIS COMING". I like intelligent readers, after all, who can play the guessing game along with me. That doesn't mean I discriminate against readers who can't catch up, though. If you can't catch up, then I suppose you have a while to go before you can imagine amazing fight scenes, but to those who've already seen Katachi for who he is...
Well, kudos to those who do at that point.
Also, it should actually be quite easy to guess Katachi's identity. After Deku Up! and Bael Out!, the side series accompanying the main story for Endus Reignum will be... A true history account.
In that true history, the details of the legend from years, decades, even centuries back, you will see the truth of the world that both explains what happened in the world then, and why the third route is possible.
And...
You will be able to identify the legend that started it all.
Yes - I think the side story account will be extremely interesting. You've seen image power, you'll come to see the Arts in Herald, and then you'll see the third element I have in store for you in the third route.
Here's a hint - On my Facebook, I frequent a page commonly associated with the third element.
Happy guessing.
With love,
Cozy
Saturday 27 December 2014
Thursday 25 December 2014
Messiah 27 : Jail
She could smell it.
The gentle and soothing scent of Jaanthro and Curamel in the air. The vibrant curtains made of a brilliant green velvet, and an unfamiliar, young maid folding garments in the corner of the room.
It was a familiar scene to her.
She had been here often when she was younger.
When she had expressed her desire to visit her friend's home, the guards and escorts would take her and her best friend Cosette to this wonderful place.
Marquis Gracer's humble mansion, where they had spent a good deal of their childhood playing here.
Although Matalpalhallafaelladrapahamo Roberia was indeed a warrior princess, the castle was no place for her to freely roam about and enjoy as she pleased.
The daily combat drills held in the castle, where the squires and knights are to respond to situations immediately in order to hone their combat readiness, meant that even the very halls the servants and maids traversed were commonly riddled with dirt and the clatter of greaves against the stone floor.
To achieve military excellence, the warriors were required to participate in combat at those choke points against the greater knights, an ideal challenge of discipline, stamina and control; They were to engage their wood-wielding superiors with the potential risk of injuring their own people, to follow the orders of their Chief Strategist by the word, and to react to the constantly varying situations accordingly as if they were truly fighting for their lives.
Before Matalpalhallfaelladrapahamo Michael was injured, Roberia remembered the thundering of footsteps and the roars of the soldiers as they clashed.
Before she was asked to participate in the training itself, Roberia was actually quite afraid of the drills that were held in the castle.
She recalled how some of the squires accidentally hurt the maids in the corridor. The sensation of the blood still lingered in her nose, even today. The squires who failed the exercises faced a fearsome punishment, and they had to take responsibility for the ones they injured. Some were forced into debt, and some coerced into marriage. Others who weren't quite as lucky had their rights as squires revoked and their families enslaved for repeat offenders.
Despite how cruel and dangerous it was, Rugnud had indeed produced top-quality knights who have protected the country with their sheer might alone. Even against the other countries where their magi were exemplary, the knights would not falter or wane in the faces of their opponents.
For a long time now, Rugnud had achieved a most enviable peace.
However, though Rugnud had not faced war in almost 200 years, the amount of blood and sweat shed in that castle to perfect their knights was more than enough to make anyone sink into a maddening despair.
It was an extremely grueling training, one that Roberia was almost certain she would fail at from the start.
And yet... Here she lay, breathing, reminiscing, and living.
She had survived... No. She had triumphed over that ordeal.
Along with the many knights who would become great warriors truly worthy of the title 'knight', she had succeeded.
She can't stop.
Not for as long as she draws breath, she will not allow harm to befall this kingdom.
She would not let this country fall to corruption and depravity.
Roberia got up from the comfortable bed, and saw the black hair of the maid, tied into a braid.
Black hair...
The image of Katachi formed in her head immediately.
That silly fool of a boy, who seemed stupid and slow in his actions.
And yet...
She can't bear to hate him.
If her single-mindedness for Rugnud were to be measured by the depth of a well, she was certain that while he focused his respect on everything else except himself, his devotion would be insulted if it were ever compared on an equal level.
Just as he had respected the ants on the road, just as he had respected that blond-haired lady from before by gently pushing her aside, just as he had respected Roberia herself by not taking her life...
He may have completely different values, but she was certain that his respect and love for everything around him was boundless.
If she were a mere well, he would be the vast, endless sea.
He was a faint, but persistent ray that shone out in the darkness.
A fool who reached his hand out slowly, reaching for his goal ever so slowly.
To never betray his own ideals, while moving slowly and carefully, with unnecessary caution.
In a way, she could relate to him completely.
And, the best of all...
He was a fool who made her feel the warmth of having company.
Before she set off on this journey, she had turned cold towards the people in pursuit of her hand, of the status they would receive and brag about, of the wealth and fame and the riches.
But that black-haired boy had showed her the warmth of being respected, of being treated fairly, of being treated as another person.
With her true nature shielded from his eyes, she could see how he honestly cared for her, without ever realizing or bringing up her role as a princess.
A man like him was, if anything, worth endangering her own life to protect.
Her throat was dry, and she needed a drink badly.
But with her raw will, she ignored the roaring heat at the back of her mouth and coughed her words out quickly.
R : "... Take me to the capital now."
"... What?"
R : "Bilkenstury. Take me there. Now."
*** ***
He couldn't really see what was around him.
But, then again, if he could see what was around him in clarity, he would probably wish he didn't.
A musky and foul stench draped the area. Katachi could smell the thick, layering mildew in the cold and humid air, and he felt the ground beneath him rumbling slightly, representing the many things around him.
There was no light.
Not a single source of light could be found. There was no way to truly make out what was around him, except by the breath escaping his mouth and the vibrations around him.
K : (... Not a sign of a draft. There's no ventilation at all... Am I underground?)
Similarities and differences.
It was similar, in a sense, because Katachi had sometimes been tasked by Mother Rinnesfeld to fetch herbs or food for her while she attends to more pressing matters. The feel of the room he was in felt similar to the cellars of the provisions store, and yet... Different.
The cellar of the provisions store had a moldy smell as a result of storing used mops in a corner, thus making the air danke and producing a musty smell.
*Cozy's Notes : 'Danke' is the Middle English form of 'Dank'. I'm thinking that, well, if I plan to use these words that have yet existed, I should use their Middle English variants or something. Yeh*
But the stench here was something else. The fetid odor of sweat draped over the air like a miasma, there was an iron-like smell similar to blood, and it reeked of decay and defecation. The surroundings felt weird, and his own footstep sounded strange in that it echoed back at him rhythmically, so he could guess that wherever he was, it was cramped and compact with many small rooms...
... Like a jail.
The last thing he could remember was that he was slowly lowering Roberia, at that borter. He didn't remember what happened after, but the numbness above his neck implied that someone had struck a blunt blow at the back of his defenseless head.
Had he been arrested?
K : (... I've heard that Rugnud is in bad relations with Ohde... I shouldn't be surprised if I were attacked like that.)
From a logical point of view, the sight of an Ohdean holding a Rugnud citizen in his arms was probably an unsettling sight for the soldiers. The implications of that actions would give the misconception that the citizen would prefer an Ohdean for her spouse over her own countrymen. That could have greatly upset the populace of Rugnud, and could have been considered an indirect attack against Rugnud by Ohde, which would clearly explain the hostility held against him.
K : (... I guess I should have watched myself more. This isn't Findel anymore.)
Of course, his information was right. The tension between Rugnud and Ohde had resolved before he was even born, but for a child who learned of the world from books, his sources of information were destined to reach their limit eventually.
*Cozy's Notes : That may be true, but he's insanely good at countering magic as a result. It's not entirely bad, is it? Katachi has excellent potential as a counter-magus. He can cast any spell he remembers and can counter any spell he recognizes. That only applies if he successfully identifies it, though - Recall the previous Deku Up! on assumed history & true history.*
He can't do much in this darkness.
All he could hope for is to feel around and try to get a sense of his bearings in check.
Katachi reached his hands out and tried to feel the wall, but felt something flat and leathery instead.
"Hands off, buddy. I got's no interest in men."
The hoarse voice that responded from right before him was quite the shock. If there were sufficient light, Katachi's stupefied face would have been a rather hilarious sight to behold.
*Cozy's Notes : As such, I leave it to your imagination as to what his face should look like. God damn it, I've been reading Baka to Test to Shoukanjuu and I'm getting trolly on my own story, gawd dehmnit*
K : "... Sorry. I can't exactly see what's in front of me."
"We got's a conned here, eh? What's you in for?"
He spoke in a rather... strange tone. Katachi wasn't used to someone speaking in such a brash manner, so the accent threw him off by a little. He stumbled backwards and pressed his back against something that felt like iron bars.
K : (... Bars from nowhere... So this is a prison, after all.) "... I was arrested at the borter."
"Tried to smuggle, did you? I feel you. My uncle's done's plenty to warts like you."
That line made him feel uncomfortable, for some reason.
K : (Did he mean to say that his uncle has framed others for misdeeds before?... I've read about Rugnud's guards rewarding people for upholding their role as a vigilant citizen. I suppose that could also be used in a more vulgar way, to earn a small amount to feed your family. The uncle must have it tough... Wait, what's a wart?) "A... A wart?"
"Yeah, wart, keep it down. Else you's next."
K : (Next?)
The crackle that followed after answered his question.
A sound like the flexing of a leather whip upon bare skin resounded through the cells clearly. The anguished scream of a man in great pain could be heard.
K : (... Someone's being whipped... !) "A whip..."
"Yeah. Whips. The whips got's no eyes, see? They hurt guards and us equally."
K : (There's no doubt. This is definitely a prison.)
The whip's crackle only served to affirm that he was currently captured by the Rugnud government.
However, Katachi showed not fear, but remorse.
K : (... Assuming that's true... I shouldn't have given whoever it was a chance to do this. Had they targeted me, based on my appearance?... I should find some way to prove that I'm from Findel. I don't think speaking fluent Findeli at this point's going to save me, if the guard who I talked to didn't argue in my favor.)
He began planning for his own vindication, albeit in a completely wrong direction. But who was to tell him that he was wrong, in that dark room where he had no certainty as to why he was there in the first place?
The gentle and soothing scent of Jaanthro and Curamel in the air. The vibrant curtains made of a brilliant green velvet, and an unfamiliar, young maid folding garments in the corner of the room.
It was a familiar scene to her.
She had been here often when she was younger.
When she had expressed her desire to visit her friend's home, the guards and escorts would take her and her best friend Cosette to this wonderful place.
Marquis Gracer's humble mansion, where they had spent a good deal of their childhood playing here.
Although Matalpalhallafaelladrapahamo Roberia was indeed a warrior princess, the castle was no place for her to freely roam about and enjoy as she pleased.
The daily combat drills held in the castle, where the squires and knights are to respond to situations immediately in order to hone their combat readiness, meant that even the very halls the servants and maids traversed were commonly riddled with dirt and the clatter of greaves against the stone floor.
To achieve military excellence, the warriors were required to participate in combat at those choke points against the greater knights, an ideal challenge of discipline, stamina and control; They were to engage their wood-wielding superiors with the potential risk of injuring their own people, to follow the orders of their Chief Strategist by the word, and to react to the constantly varying situations accordingly as if they were truly fighting for their lives.
Before Matalpalhallfaelladrapahamo Michael was injured, Roberia remembered the thundering of footsteps and the roars of the soldiers as they clashed.
Before she was asked to participate in the training itself, Roberia was actually quite afraid of the drills that were held in the castle.
She recalled how some of the squires accidentally hurt the maids in the corridor. The sensation of the blood still lingered in her nose, even today. The squires who failed the exercises faced a fearsome punishment, and they had to take responsibility for the ones they injured. Some were forced into debt, and some coerced into marriage. Others who weren't quite as lucky had their rights as squires revoked and their families enslaved for repeat offenders.
Despite how cruel and dangerous it was, Rugnud had indeed produced top-quality knights who have protected the country with their sheer might alone. Even against the other countries where their magi were exemplary, the knights would not falter or wane in the faces of their opponents.
For a long time now, Rugnud had achieved a most enviable peace.
However, though Rugnud had not faced war in almost 200 years, the amount of blood and sweat shed in that castle to perfect their knights was more than enough to make anyone sink into a maddening despair.
It was an extremely grueling training, one that Roberia was almost certain she would fail at from the start.
And yet... Here she lay, breathing, reminiscing, and living.
She had survived... No. She had triumphed over that ordeal.
Along with the many knights who would become great warriors truly worthy of the title 'knight', she had succeeded.
She can't stop.
Not for as long as she draws breath, she will not allow harm to befall this kingdom.
She would not let this country fall to corruption and depravity.
Roberia got up from the comfortable bed, and saw the black hair of the maid, tied into a braid.
Black hair...
The image of Katachi formed in her head immediately.
That silly fool of a boy, who seemed stupid and slow in his actions.
And yet...
She can't bear to hate him.
If her single-mindedness for Rugnud were to be measured by the depth of a well, she was certain that while he focused his respect on everything else except himself, his devotion would be insulted if it were ever compared on an equal level.
Just as he had respected the ants on the road, just as he had respected that blond-haired lady from before by gently pushing her aside, just as he had respected Roberia herself by not taking her life...
He may have completely different values, but she was certain that his respect and love for everything around him was boundless.
If she were a mere well, he would be the vast, endless sea.
He was a faint, but persistent ray that shone out in the darkness.
A fool who reached his hand out slowly, reaching for his goal ever so slowly.
To never betray his own ideals, while moving slowly and carefully, with unnecessary caution.
In a way, she could relate to him completely.
And, the best of all...
He was a fool who made her feel the warmth of having company.
Before she set off on this journey, she had turned cold towards the people in pursuit of her hand, of the status they would receive and brag about, of the wealth and fame and the riches.
But that black-haired boy had showed her the warmth of being respected, of being treated fairly, of being treated as another person.
With her true nature shielded from his eyes, she could see how he honestly cared for her, without ever realizing or bringing up her role as a princess.
A man like him was, if anything, worth endangering her own life to protect.
Her throat was dry, and she needed a drink badly.
But with her raw will, she ignored the roaring heat at the back of her mouth and coughed her words out quickly.
R : "... Take me to the capital now."
"... What?"
R : "Bilkenstury. Take me there. Now."
*** ***
He couldn't really see what was around him.
But, then again, if he could see what was around him in clarity, he would probably wish he didn't.
A musky and foul stench draped the area. Katachi could smell the thick, layering mildew in the cold and humid air, and he felt the ground beneath him rumbling slightly, representing the many things around him.
There was no light.
Not a single source of light could be found. There was no way to truly make out what was around him, except by the breath escaping his mouth and the vibrations around him.
K : (... Not a sign of a draft. There's no ventilation at all... Am I underground?)
Similarities and differences.
It was similar, in a sense, because Katachi had sometimes been tasked by Mother Rinnesfeld to fetch herbs or food for her while she attends to more pressing matters. The feel of the room he was in felt similar to the cellars of the provisions store, and yet... Different.
The cellar of the provisions store had a moldy smell as a result of storing used mops in a corner, thus making the air danke and producing a musty smell.
*Cozy's Notes : 'Danke' is the Middle English form of 'Dank'. I'm thinking that, well, if I plan to use these words that have yet existed, I should use their Middle English variants or something. Yeh*
But the stench here was something else. The fetid odor of sweat draped over the air like a miasma, there was an iron-like smell similar to blood, and it reeked of decay and defecation. The surroundings felt weird, and his own footstep sounded strange in that it echoed back at him rhythmically, so he could guess that wherever he was, it was cramped and compact with many small rooms...
... Like a jail.
The last thing he could remember was that he was slowly lowering Roberia, at that borter. He didn't remember what happened after, but the numbness above his neck implied that someone had struck a blunt blow at the back of his defenseless head.
Had he been arrested?
K : (... I've heard that Rugnud is in bad relations with Ohde... I shouldn't be surprised if I were attacked like that.)
From a logical point of view, the sight of an Ohdean holding a Rugnud citizen in his arms was probably an unsettling sight for the soldiers. The implications of that actions would give the misconception that the citizen would prefer an Ohdean for her spouse over her own countrymen. That could have greatly upset the populace of Rugnud, and could have been considered an indirect attack against Rugnud by Ohde, which would clearly explain the hostility held against him.
K : (... I guess I should have watched myself more. This isn't Findel anymore.)
Of course, his information was right. The tension between Rugnud and Ohde had resolved before he was even born, but for a child who learned of the world from books, his sources of information were destined to reach their limit eventually.
*Cozy's Notes : That may be true, but he's insanely good at countering magic as a result. It's not entirely bad, is it? Katachi has excellent potential as a counter-magus. He can cast any spell he remembers and can counter any spell he recognizes. That only applies if he successfully identifies it, though - Recall the previous Deku Up! on assumed history & true history.*
He can't do much in this darkness.
All he could hope for is to feel around and try to get a sense of his bearings in check.
Katachi reached his hands out and tried to feel the wall, but felt something flat and leathery instead.
"Hands off, buddy. I got's no interest in men."
The hoarse voice that responded from right before him was quite the shock. If there were sufficient light, Katachi's stupefied face would have been a rather hilarious sight to behold.
*Cozy's Notes : As such, I leave it to your imagination as to what his face should look like. God damn it, I've been reading Baka to Test to Shoukanjuu and I'm getting trolly on my own story, gawd dehmnit*
K : "... Sorry. I can't exactly see what's in front of me."
"We got's a conned here, eh? What's you in for?"
He spoke in a rather... strange tone. Katachi wasn't used to someone speaking in such a brash manner, so the accent threw him off by a little. He stumbled backwards and pressed his back against something that felt like iron bars.
K : (... Bars from nowhere... So this is a prison, after all.) "... I was arrested at the borter."
"Tried to smuggle, did you? I feel you. My uncle's done's plenty to warts like you."
That line made him feel uncomfortable, for some reason.
K : (Did he mean to say that his uncle has framed others for misdeeds before?... I've read about Rugnud's guards rewarding people for upholding their role as a vigilant citizen. I suppose that could also be used in a more vulgar way, to earn a small amount to feed your family. The uncle must have it tough... Wait, what's a wart?) "A... A wart?"
"Yeah, wart, keep it down. Else you's next."
K : (Next?)
The crackle that followed after answered his question.
A sound like the flexing of a leather whip upon bare skin resounded through the cells clearly. The anguished scream of a man in great pain could be heard.
K : (... Someone's being whipped... !) "A whip..."
"Yeah. Whips. The whips got's no eyes, see? They hurt guards and us equally."
K : (There's no doubt. This is definitely a prison.)
The whip's crackle only served to affirm that he was currently captured by the Rugnud government.
However, Katachi showed not fear, but remorse.
K : (... Assuming that's true... I shouldn't have given whoever it was a chance to do this. Had they targeted me, based on my appearance?... I should find some way to prove that I'm from Findel. I don't think speaking fluent Findeli at this point's going to save me, if the guard who I talked to didn't argue in my favor.)
He began planning for his own vindication, albeit in a completely wrong direction. But who was to tell him that he was wrong, in that dark room where he had no certainty as to why he was there in the first place?
Saturday 20 December 2014
Is he dead?
Cozy :
Nope.
I'm still alive :D And uh... Well, excuse me for my absence these upcoming months.
Y'see, I'm currently in enlistment for the SAF. For these two years, I am to serve my country like every other male citizen in Singapore.
As such... I'm afraid that the progress on this story's only going to slow down even further. It's a shame, a pity, and it's really awful, because I was really looking forward to Katachi's ass getting wiped by Milos- AAARRRGGGHH SPOILERS
Heh. Heheheh.
I really love writing this story. Even though it may remain unread and hidden from the eyes of people around the world (serves me right for using WoP Quest when Skyrim's using it as well.) I still feel that it's important. Their tale must continue, and my hands must never stop moving.
Therefore, though progress is slow, don't be disheartened - There will come a day where I complete this story... Or at least die trying. (Hopefully. I pray I do not die before this is completed.)
*** ***
In other news, well, I've been shouting and screaming my ass off so hard that my voice is changing.
It's a pity. I've always liked my old voice. Now I may have to face a reality where I say goodbye to my old voice forever, since it's a requirement for recruits to scream and respond to their superiors.
That... Upsets me. Just to meaninglessly break your throat for a bunch of men who are in a higher chain of command... Such sadness.
They would have you forgo a potential, a talent for something that could support the country in a social aspect (and thus dissuade attacks) to equip you with a militaristic method of protecting the country.
Think about it from this angle - Japan is now incredibly famous not only for their technological advances (bullet and maglev trains, automatons, water closets installed with an automated bidet, there're all kinds) but they are also admired by countries around the world for their evolving culture - Both in anime, and in actual modern culture.
Let's give a hypothesis that the U.S. attacks Japan because of, say, suspicion - The Japanese, apparently, managed to develop a chain of technology extremely similar to their own, and they suspect foul play / espionage at work.
Japan is attacked, oh no, now the anime fans in America are going to get mad because they would have lost a good source of entertainment. While Japan arms itself up and prepare for the upcoming war, civil strife erupts in the U.S. and the daily life in U.S. changes drastically - Supply lines are cut, resources are scarce, protests of unimaginable circumstances occur and the U.S. have their forces tied down by their own people.
The countries that dominate the business market in the present day are the true deciding factors of victory in today's world. So why is it that taking my voice away to satisfy my superiors helps the country?
Rather, fostering and training my voice to become professional to appeal to the social world... That would give the countries one more reason why they shouldn't invade us. Just as how nobody wants to invade Germany because of their advancements in car technology, our country needs an edge that would make attacking us bad.
I don't mean making someone in the country into a spiritual leader like Tenzin Gyatso or Patriarch Theodore II of Alexandria. A spiritual leader would have the opposite effect in a multi-racial country like ours - It makes people tense, and strife will break out here and there. Terrorists will paint a big red target on them and that only worsens things. It must be something everyone can agree on at a human-to-human level.
It will probably take time for us to discover what it is. This is Singapore's 50th year, after all, and it won't be surprising to see that we have yet established something like this. I don't expect any further wisdom from a 50-year-old government. But until then, I'll have to remain vigilant and figure out a way to protect this home not through deterrence, and not through diplomacy. There must be a way. It exists, and we've seen it from the above examples.
*** ***
... Sometimes, I truly doubt the intelligence of Man. I've read WoP Quest over and over again, countless times. And every time I read it, I think (Wow, this is amazing. All these mind games, these skirmishes, these people fighting... It's like they're truly fighting for their dear life. I wanna fight like that, and I want to die by being punished for a single mistake. It's like Dark Souls, yo. The adrenaline is real.)
And for some obscene reason, I can't seem to find the excitement found within my story in real life. Is this the limitation of humanity? Are we not allowed to explore the wonder found in literature through reality?
That got me thinking. And well, honestly speaking, it got me thinking hard. Real hard.
What if I tried my hand at fiction? No, not fantasy or anything of that sort. (Though it does have that potential.) What if I took on a different stage, and incorporated the beauty of literature to portray real life?
And so, this was born.
http://www.wattpad.com/story/17870598-alas-my-dear-annabelle
Alas, My Dear Annabelle.
If you see this story, don't panic, it's by me. Yes, the guy who wrote WoP Quest is writing something mushy and girly like a chick lit.
Though, I can assure you, you won't feel that it's a chick lit once you read the story far enough. This is not a story about romance. Though it's general fiction, I think people who've read WoP Quest can probably feel a similar vibe coming from this tale.
If you've known me long enough, you should know that I hate my stories to end in happiness.
Happiness is something you give to others. It is fleeting, and ephemeral, something to be passed around, something that comes and goes like the wind. But joy, now... Joy is the cultivation of one's mentality and maturity to become indifferent towards the negative things in life, and in turn become more appreciative of the positive things in life.
Therefore, it is entirely possible for you to have all the joy in the world... But without a shred of happiness.
Happiness is not something that is 'earned'. It runs, it flies, it's like the f-ing Mynahs outside my bunk at Pulau Tekong - They're everywhere, they can't be captured, and they keep you awake all night if you're on light duty and haven't worked out at all to make your body sore. In a sense, they symbolize happiness well. The annoying cries they produce at night before bed is like the utter abundance of happiness all around you, and yet you can never hold it within your palms. A really awkward comparison, I know, but hey, it works.
I want to instill that truth both in WoP Quest, and in AmdA. That is my endgoal in my life, or at least in my time as a writer. I can't think of what else Id become if I don't become a writer. Frankly, the future is a vast, blank canvas, and the only thing on my mind is not about painting my own life, but to use what life I have to paint the lives that could have been.
The lives of men who are not portrayed in society simply because they are a minority. The lives of people who do not get what they deserve, toyed by the cruel hand of Fate.
That is my driving force as a writer - Not to write about some empty criminal fiction story about how the good guys always win in the end, about how bad guys actually don't want to be the bad guys, that kind of thriller fiction is crude. (I got ma eye on ya, John Roswell Camp. You too, f-ing Lucas Davenport.)
My driving force is to paint darkness to enumerate the dying lights in the world. The people who you see in the mortuary, the insignificant names who simply don't matter to you (since you're not related to them) and disappear like the last sparks of fireworks. And yet, they are the ones who have the most interesting stories to tell.
It applies to all my stories. I don't like characters that live long enough to become a protagonist once more in a sequel. (WoP Quest is different - The volumes are different routes, and it's like hitting the reset button, or erasing the stuff on a magnetic toy drawing board. It's not set in stone.)
*** ***
I hate Western action stories for their coincidental applications of the convenient elements around them, and I hate Oriental action stories for giving the characters unfathomable power spikes without reason or purpose.
Messiah will show the Western world the true power of element utilization. (Recall how Katachi outsmarts Rekter in Chapter 21.) Herald will show the Oriental world the definition of a solid base. (Resound through your mind the visualization and actualization that is Image Power.) Endus Reignum will smite both of their cultures, their foundations, and prove once more that their stories are fallacious.
Glory to WoP Quest. Long live WoP Quest.
Now let me see you WoP.
(I know, it's a crude joke, but I've been neglecting it for long enough. Heheh.)
Nope.
I'm still alive :D And uh... Well, excuse me for my absence these upcoming months.
Y'see, I'm currently in enlistment for the SAF. For these two years, I am to serve my country like every other male citizen in Singapore.
As such... I'm afraid that the progress on this story's only going to slow down even further. It's a shame, a pity, and it's really awful, because I was really looking forward to Katachi's ass getting wiped by Milos- AAARRRGGGHH SPOILERS
Heh. Heheheh.
I really love writing this story. Even though it may remain unread and hidden from the eyes of people around the world (serves me right for using WoP Quest when Skyrim's using it as well.) I still feel that it's important. Their tale must continue, and my hands must never stop moving.
Therefore, though progress is slow, don't be disheartened - There will come a day where I complete this story... Or at least die trying. (Hopefully. I pray I do not die before this is completed.)
*** ***
In other news, well, I've been shouting and screaming my ass off so hard that my voice is changing.
It's a pity. I've always liked my old voice. Now I may have to face a reality where I say goodbye to my old voice forever, since it's a requirement for recruits to scream and respond to their superiors.
That... Upsets me. Just to meaninglessly break your throat for a bunch of men who are in a higher chain of command... Such sadness.
They would have you forgo a potential, a talent for something that could support the country in a social aspect (and thus dissuade attacks) to equip you with a militaristic method of protecting the country.
Think about it from this angle - Japan is now incredibly famous not only for their technological advances (bullet and maglev trains, automatons, water closets installed with an automated bidet, there're all kinds) but they are also admired by countries around the world for their evolving culture - Both in anime, and in actual modern culture.
Let's give a hypothesis that the U.S. attacks Japan because of, say, suspicion - The Japanese, apparently, managed to develop a chain of technology extremely similar to their own, and they suspect foul play / espionage at work.
Japan is attacked, oh no, now the anime fans in America are going to get mad because they would have lost a good source of entertainment. While Japan arms itself up and prepare for the upcoming war, civil strife erupts in the U.S. and the daily life in U.S. changes drastically - Supply lines are cut, resources are scarce, protests of unimaginable circumstances occur and the U.S. have their forces tied down by their own people.
The countries that dominate the business market in the present day are the true deciding factors of victory in today's world. So why is it that taking my voice away to satisfy my superiors helps the country?
Rather, fostering and training my voice to become professional to appeal to the social world... That would give the countries one more reason why they shouldn't invade us. Just as how nobody wants to invade Germany because of their advancements in car technology, our country needs an edge that would make attacking us bad.
I don't mean making someone in the country into a spiritual leader like Tenzin Gyatso or Patriarch Theodore II of Alexandria. A spiritual leader would have the opposite effect in a multi-racial country like ours - It makes people tense, and strife will break out here and there. Terrorists will paint a big red target on them and that only worsens things. It must be something everyone can agree on at a human-to-human level.
It will probably take time for us to discover what it is. This is Singapore's 50th year, after all, and it won't be surprising to see that we have yet established something like this. I don't expect any further wisdom from a 50-year-old government. But until then, I'll have to remain vigilant and figure out a way to protect this home not through deterrence, and not through diplomacy. There must be a way. It exists, and we've seen it from the above examples.
*** ***
... Sometimes, I truly doubt the intelligence of Man. I've read WoP Quest over and over again, countless times. And every time I read it, I think (Wow, this is amazing. All these mind games, these skirmishes, these people fighting... It's like they're truly fighting for their dear life. I wanna fight like that, and I want to die by being punished for a single mistake. It's like Dark Souls, yo. The adrenaline is real.)
And for some obscene reason, I can't seem to find the excitement found within my story in real life. Is this the limitation of humanity? Are we not allowed to explore the wonder found in literature through reality?
That got me thinking. And well, honestly speaking, it got me thinking hard. Real hard.
What if I tried my hand at fiction? No, not fantasy or anything of that sort. (Though it does have that potential.) What if I took on a different stage, and incorporated the beauty of literature to portray real life?
And so, this was born.
http://www.wattpad.com/story/17870598-alas-my-dear-annabelle
Alas, My Dear Annabelle.
If you see this story, don't panic, it's by me. Yes, the guy who wrote WoP Quest is writing something mushy and girly like a chick lit.
Though, I can assure you, you won't feel that it's a chick lit once you read the story far enough. This is not a story about romance. Though it's general fiction, I think people who've read WoP Quest can probably feel a similar vibe coming from this tale.
If you've known me long enough, you should know that I hate my stories to end in happiness.
Happiness is something you give to others. It is fleeting, and ephemeral, something to be passed around, something that comes and goes like the wind. But joy, now... Joy is the cultivation of one's mentality and maturity to become indifferent towards the negative things in life, and in turn become more appreciative of the positive things in life.
Therefore, it is entirely possible for you to have all the joy in the world... But without a shred of happiness.
Happiness is not something that is 'earned'. It runs, it flies, it's like the f-ing Mynahs outside my bunk at Pulau Tekong - They're everywhere, they can't be captured, and they keep you awake all night if you're on light duty and haven't worked out at all to make your body sore. In a sense, they symbolize happiness well. The annoying cries they produce at night before bed is like the utter abundance of happiness all around you, and yet you can never hold it within your palms. A really awkward comparison, I know, but hey, it works.
I want to instill that truth both in WoP Quest, and in AmdA. That is my endgoal in my life, or at least in my time as a writer. I can't think of what else Id become if I don't become a writer. Frankly, the future is a vast, blank canvas, and the only thing on my mind is not about painting my own life, but to use what life I have to paint the lives that could have been.
The lives of men who are not portrayed in society simply because they are a minority. The lives of people who do not get what they deserve, toyed by the cruel hand of Fate.
That is my driving force as a writer - Not to write about some empty criminal fiction story about how the good guys always win in the end, about how bad guys actually don't want to be the bad guys, that kind of thriller fiction is crude. (I got ma eye on ya, John Roswell Camp. You too, f-ing Lucas Davenport.)
My driving force is to paint darkness to enumerate the dying lights in the world. The people who you see in the mortuary, the insignificant names who simply don't matter to you (since you're not related to them) and disappear like the last sparks of fireworks. And yet, they are the ones who have the most interesting stories to tell.
It applies to all my stories. I don't like characters that live long enough to become a protagonist once more in a sequel. (WoP Quest is different - The volumes are different routes, and it's like hitting the reset button, or erasing the stuff on a magnetic toy drawing board. It's not set in stone.)
*** ***
I hate Western action stories for their coincidental applications of the convenient elements around them, and I hate Oriental action stories for giving the characters unfathomable power spikes without reason or purpose.
Messiah will show the Western world the true power of element utilization. (Recall how Katachi outsmarts Rekter in Chapter 21.) Herald will show the Oriental world the definition of a solid base. (Resound through your mind the visualization and actualization that is Image Power.) Endus Reignum will smite both of their cultures, their foundations, and prove once more that their stories are fallacious.
Glory to WoP Quest. Long live WoP Quest.
Now let me see you WoP.
(I know, it's a crude joke, but I've been neglecting it for long enough. Heheh.)
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