Taed vs. Reffy

[James]

Topic: Dystopian
Perspective: Third Person
Requirement: Epilogue
Deadline: 31/01/2010

Good luck!

[Jenny (Reffy)]

((Good luck Taed. May the best story win. I know I gave it my best shot :] ))




Diary Entry: 352
We always knew something had been going on but we never guessed what it was until they came for us. Luckily we had been packed ready to go on a hiking trip - Johnny, Trisha and me – so escape was easy. Now we are on the run every day. The Corps know we're still out here - alive. I doubt they will stop until they find our bodies, or carry us away kicking and screaming to the factories. That's where all the over twenty-five people go to. I don't know what happens when you get to the factory. Trisha reckons that's what happened to Rachel and Steven.

I don't know what will happen over the next few days. We just gotta stay one step ahead of them ...



“C'mon guys. We need to keep moving.” Johnny called back from his watch-out point. Worry was plastered all over his face for all to see. Richie stopped writing, quickly stuffing his pen and book into his jacket. Trisha put the lid back on her water bottle solemnly. The three had stopped for a break in a copse of tangled bushes, tired of always running. It was nearly fifty-six hours since they had any rest and it was starting to show. Just to the West they could see the outskirts of the small town Ingiel. Smoke rose from the chimneys, car horns beeped impatiently, and chatter could be heard faintly. Normal life was going on, but nothing was normal any more. Not for the three on the run.

“It'd be lovely to go back to that way of life.” Trisha was the first to speak up, knowing what the others were thinking. All three of them were staring longingly at the small houses full of warmth, food and happiness.

Both Richie and Johnny nodded their eyes sunken from the lack of sleep. It was strange how appealing that life was, even after they had found out how twisted and corrupted the Corps made it. People were provided with jobs, parties, drink, food, sex. Everything had been maintained by the Corps. You didn’t have to worry or think about anything because somebody had worried about it for you. Nobody even knew what was going on because they didn't have to think. They just enjoyed the ride while it was fun. It was utopia, but it was corrupted. As soon as you grew up and started thinking for yourself the Corps would rush in and take you away. Trisha, Richie and Johnny felt their stomachs lurch at the idea of going back.

“We should do something. Those people don't know.” Richie said automatically.

“What can we do? Nothing! Going back will only get us caught!” Johnny's temper flared for a second but he calmed down. He continued quietly, the upset and frustration raw in his voice. “There is nothing we can do. We cannot force them to think. We cannot prove that their life is fake and that the Corps are corrupted.”

Richie looked to the ground and scuffed his feet on the dried mud. He felt so useless, they all did. There were so many people back in Aubori that they knew, people they cared about. People they had to leave behind. It hurt to think about it. “Best get moving.”

Silently, without another look at the small town, all three moved on. They traveled for a few hours avoiding the populated areas. Each of them weighed down by small backpacks full of hiking equipment. Tiny bedrolls, climbing hooks and rope, bottled water, and a few chocolate energy bars. It wouldn't last long but it was all they could grab. None of them said a word. They looked everywhere but at each other, avoiding the weariness that permeated their friendship and life’s. It was spring all around them in the countryside. The World was waking up from the harsh winter, but to them it was still just as bleak. Birds sang in the trees that they passed but they did not hear the beautiful song.

ZAAAPPP!

“Run-Richie-Johnny-RUN!” Trisha fell in to the long grass, screaming as she went down. Coming from her back were two little metal bullets connected to thin wires. Electric guns. Johnny saw them first and started running, pulling Richie with him.

“Move! C'mon.”

“STOP! Corporal Agency 12050 Environment and Life. You are under arrest! Stop! We are armed and will shoot!” Angry voices shouted out behind them. The Corps were obviously extremely pissed off at the cat and mouse game. It wasn’t very often a group managed to escape and when they did it exposed a weakness in the Corp. A hole that none of them appreciated.

Richie and Johnny kept running but the Corps gained ground quickly, almost inhumanely so. They were faster and more intelligent. The escapees were like sheep being rounded up by ferocious, snapping dogs. A few meters away Johnny was shot with the electric gun. He fell and smacked his head on a tree with a grunt. The bash knocked him unconscious. Richie only saw part of what happened as he continued to run, fighting down the want to throw up or pass out. His lungs and ribs burned for oxygen as he pushed forwards. A few seconds later Richie made the wrong turn, blindly. He was jumped on by two Corp men. He gave up, breathing into the mud with short gasps as they squashed him and placed him in cuffs.

It was all over. Their brief freedom gone like dandelion seeds lost to the wind.



Diary Entry: 353
I'm scared and so alone. I don't know where Trisha or Johnny have been taken too. I don't think they’re alive any more. I’ve been crying on and off, unable to keep back the worry. The not knowing is the worst thing. They put me in a holding cell for ... I don't know how long. No lights or windows, just a small metal bench for a bed. The Corps said something about an examination. If you find these notes make sure they get out. The World must know. People must start to think. This isn't a lie. You must try and stop the Corps!

… I don't want to die.

[Matteo ((Taed))]

Isaac’s feet pounded against the pavement as he wove clumsily through narrow streets and back alleyways. Occasionally he would burst out into the neon glow of a main thoroughfare—where cars honked noisily and advertisements trumpeted the virtues of gadgets and creams—but mostly he ran silently, in darkness. Always, though, the noiseless presence of Selene was beside him. Compared to his jerky stumbling, her grace approached the divine. Keener eyes than his would spot an obstacle in the shadows and a hand would reach out to steady him. She could have outpaced him easily, he knew, and given the urgency of their situation she probably should have, but instead she matched him stride for stride.

They rounded a corner together and suddenly the Grand Cathedral loomed over them, its towering main spire seeming to join heaven and earth. Whenever Isaac had seen it before he had been overcome by its beauty and grandeur. It was a symbol of what honest, purebred humans could accomplish. Tonight, every stone in its walls seemed to weigh on his shoulders. Every graceful parapet seemed a dagger in his heart. Isaac and Selene slowed and warily approached the Cathedral.

“They’re here,” Selene murmured, right before eight figures seemed to melt out of the shadows and come to join them. Malcolm was in the lead and Isaac could see that his face was a rictus of rage when it was illuminated by the moonlight. The others halted a few metres away, forming a semicircle, but Malcolm kept right on coming. He grabbed Isaac by the scruff of his shirt and lifted the smaller man off the ground with one hand.

“Malcolm, put him down!” Selene cried. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Like hell we don’t!” barked back Malcolm. “I should snap his scrawny little neck right here. It would only take a second. Less, actually. His bones break easy.”

“I won’t let you hurt him, Malcolm. He’s here to help.”

Malcolm snorted. “Help? What can he do to help? It was his helping that got Raphael captured in the first place.”

“That’s not true and you know it. He never would have done anything to hurt Raphael on purpose. Everything he did was in our best interests.”

“No!” snarled Malcolm. “He never did anything in our interests. All he cared about was getting that little vial for his sister. Helping us was just the only way to get his grubby hands on it. And now you don’t even have that, do you, worm?” Malcolm was practically spitting in Isaac’s face. “You lost it along with Raphael.”

“But-” Selene began.

“But nothing! None of us would have ever made the mistakes he made. None of us would have been stupid enough to bring Gabriel and his goons down on our heads. Killing him wouldn’t even be murder. His life is worthless.”

“Malcolm,” Isaac said quietly. It was the first sound he’d made since the altercation began. “It was talk like that that started the War in the first place. I’m sorry for what happened … God, you have no idea how sorry I am. But if you’re going to kill me just get it over with. God knows what they’re doing to Raphael while we’re out here wasting time.”

Malcolm was silent for a moment. His eyes were still full of anger and his fist clenched spasmodically as though he really did want to snap Isaac’s neck. But then he just sighed and lowered Isaac to the ground. “Your God isn’t listening. Trust me. Let’s move, boys and girls. Scale the walls and enter through the gables. We’re getting Raphael back.” He turned and walked off. In all the time he’d been holding Isaac up, Malcolm’s arm hadn’t even trembled.

The others followed Malcolm towards the Cathedral. Selene touched Isaac briefly on the shoulder and smiled at him, before they both hurried after. As the others reached the walls they immediately began to climb, quickly and easily, their hands and feet finding invisible cracks in the aging stonework to hold them. Isaac looked at the sheer surface with dread. How the hell was he supposed to climb this? Selene sensed his apprehension and hung back with him but he waved her on and upwards. He wasn’t going to let his purebred weakness hold them back anymore.

With nervous fingers, Isaac sought out a handhold. He began to drag himself upward but, only a few feet off the ground, he was already tiring. Malcolm wouldn’t have to kill him after all, this climb would. Assuming that he could even get high enough for the fall to be fatal. His hand slipped and hot pain shot up his arm as his fingers grated across the rough stone. Suddenly, something grabbed him from behind and began to lift him upwards. Isaac tore his eyes way from the wall in front of him to see the passive face of Callow—one of the giant’s enormous hands held Isaac and, without a word, he placed Isaac on his back and continued his climb. Callow was seven feet tall and at least four hundred pounds but, even with the extra burden of Isaac around his neck, he climbed swiftly and silently.

They entered into the Cathedral’s rafters and Isaac climbed off of Callow’s back so that they could assemble with the others on a platform that overlooked the main chamber. The bizarre scene that confronted them made Isaac’s breath catch in his throat. There was Raphael—beaten, bloody, and tied to a pole where the altar would normally be. Wood was stacked in a great pyre beneath him and government cronies were pouring gasoline over all of it. They were going to burn him alive!

Isaac could see the Archbishop, Gabriel, overseeing the event in his ceremonial robes and … yes! He could even see the vial that held his sister’s medicine—given to him mere hours ago by Selene and her friends and stolen by Gabriel only shortly after that. It was hung around Raphael’s neck like a pagan totem. They were going to burn both of the “unnatural” creations at once.

Gabriel turned suddenly, and Isaac flinched away involuntarily, even though he knew the shadows concealed him. The archbishop’s voice echoed hollowly in a room meant to hold thousands. He addressed the small audience of clerics and government agents gathered before him. “See before you the face of our enemy. With so many of his kin humbled and pressed into service it is sometimes easy to forget the danger that these free abominations pose. The soulless wretch you see before you slew a dozen men with his bare hands and reveled in their bloodshed (A lie, Isaac knew. Raphael was the gentlest man he’d ever met.) The vial around this terrorist’s neck holds a poison that would have warped our very genetic code and killed thousands of innocents if he had been allowed to release it. We will destroy both these products of unnatural science at a stroke and let their evil be purged in cleansing fire!”

The archbishop drew a flaming brand from the brazier at his side and Isaac realized that everyone was still paralyzed by the horror of what they were seeing. Nobody was in position. He reached out and shook Malcolm’s shoulder urgently. “Malcolm!” he hissed. “Raphael is running out of time.”

Malcolm seemed to waken from a silent nightmare. “Fan out! Fan out! Wait for my signal.” Malcolm himself darted away to get into position. Isaac was left alone on the platform with Selene. She sidled over to him and pressed something into his hands. Isaac looked down to see that it was a matte black pistol and a spare clip. The sudden reality of the situation made his head jerk back up in surprise.

“No, no, no. I’ve never even held a gun before. I can’t-” His words faded as he met Selene’s gaze. Her eyes had somehow gathered all the dregs of reflected light in the dim room and they glowed with a fierce intensity—clear pools of blue water with a fire burning at the bottom. She spoke.

“Whatever Malcolm says … Whatever you say … You’re one of us now. I know that you care. When you heard about Gabriel’s attack, you weren’t just worried about your sister’s medicine anymore. You were worried about Raphael too. Like it or not, you’re part of the family now. And you’re going to fight just as hard for us tonight as I’ve seen you fighting for your sister these last few days. Now we’re going to go out there,” She reached out and racked the slide on Isaac’s gun, chambering a round. “And you’re going to blow anyone who gets in your way right to Hell.”

Isaac tried to protest. “I’m not one of you, Selene. I can’t be. You were all born this way. You’re better than I am. Faster, stronger, smarter.”

Selene shook her head hard. “I don’t give a shit what your genes say, Isaac. I’ve seen the force behind your actions, the will that drives you forward. You can do this. I believe in you.” They crouched there on the platform, their gazes locked, and for a second Isaac thought that they were going to kiss, just like in the vids. The hero and the beautiful girl, sharing a moment of passion right before the battle. But then the archbishop’s tirade reached a crescendo, Malcolm’s voice yelled out ‘Now!’ and Selene was dragging him over the railing to drop to the Cathedral floor.

Gunshots rang out, terrifyingly loud in the cavernous chamber, and Isaac plastered himself against one of the church pews for cover. He risked a glance at the action just in time to see Gabriel set light to the pyre that bore Raphael’s unconscious frame. A choked cry broke free of his lips but he saw that this wasn’t over yet. The flames still had to spread to burn Raphael. They had time.

The government agents had hunkered down and drawn out automatic weapons, which they fired in quick bursts. They may have been outnumbered, but Isaac’s allies moved like water—flowing from cover to cover, firing and falling back, firing and falling back. A few Molotov cocktails came arcing through the air from Isaac’s side of the room and great, blossoming plumes of fire engulfed several of the G-men.

The battle raged back and forth and, despite Selene’s stirring words, Isaac found himself to be useless. Every time he tried to get a shot off a hail of bullets drove him back into cover. The seconds were ticking past and the fire under Raphael was growing. Despite their superior skills, those on Isaac’s side of the room still couldn’t advance far enough to save their friend.

Suddenly, the shouts of the G-men grew more frantic and Isaac heard something from off to his right. He turned to see Callow lifting an enormous pew vertically and laying it lengthwise down the center aisle. The others were laying down heavy cover fire to protect him. The giant man heaved against the pew and it began to slide forward like a battering ram. A lucky shot struck his shoulder but Callow simply shrugged the wound off. Gaining serious momentum, he got more than halfway down the aisle and then, with a final heave, he ducked aside and sent the pew rocketing forwards on pure inertia. It smashed into Raphael’s pyre, scattering burning wood everywhere and snapping the pole that he was tied to. It teetered for a moment, and then Raphael fell free of the flames.

Isaac cheered along with the others. The immediate danger to their comrade had passed. Now they just had to get to him. The fire was spreading everywhere and the remaining G-men were scattered and confused. Things were looking up when Isaac caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.

It was Gabriel. The archbishop was retreating into the myriad vestibules that lay behind the main chamber. There were probably dozens of bolt holes back there that he could use to escape. Isaac felt something stir in him—hatred and anger, most likely, and, with new purpose to his movements, he scrabbled sideways and began to move up the left side of the room. With most of the fighting going on off to his right, he thought that he could sneak past unnoticed and follow the fleeing archbishop.

This assessment proved inaccurate and, about three quarters of the way down, Isaac caught site of a government agent at the other end of the pew from him, reloading his weapon. He raised his gun and sighted carefully but, when he pulled the trigger, it kicked against the palm of his hand and the shot went wide. The G-man, now alerted to Isaac’s presence, slammed his new clip into place and spun frantically to face Isaac.

Isaac let out a startled yelp and fired wildly, realizing a little to late that closing his eyes was the wrong response to this situation. When he opened them, the G-man lay dead and bleeding. Isaac may not have had much going for him genetically, but luck was just as important, he realized.

Racing onwards, Isaac followed after the archbishop. His eyes darted about wildly in the gloom, looking for threats or signs of Gabriel’s passing. He was utterly lost in the twisting catacombs and it was luck again that brought him into a long vestibule where the archbishop was trying to open a locked door to the outside world.

“Gabriel!” Isaac cried out, and the robed priest turned to face him. A smile creased the old man’s face when he saw who it was.

“Ah, Mr. Lawson. I’m pleased to see that it’s you. I feared that it was one of the monstrous demons with which you choose to align yourself. Their kind possesses no capacity for mercy, I am sure, and I have no illusions about being able to stop one from killing me. In that area, at least, they excel.”

“It’s over, Gabriel,” Isaac said, keeping the gun leveled at the old man’s chest. “Your men are being mopped up as we speak and you’re going to pay for what you’ve done.”

A look of genuine surprise crossed the archbishop’s face. “What I’ve done? My dear Mr. Lawson it is you who runs with devils and fiends. I do only what society and the good Lord demands. Surely we can’t allow their kind to run free in the streets! They were the ones who started the War all those years ago, you’ll remember, not us.”

“That doesn’t give us the right to enslave them and to kill any who resist. They’re human beings.”

“They are not human!” Gabriel said savagely. “Our ancestors defied the will of God and created life without his consent. They brought soulless husks into this world and, unsurprisingly, bloodshed followed. I am merely reaffirming the established order.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you enslave them. Or why we treat science as a thing to be feared. It doesn’t explain why, when my sister grew sick, our doctors were unable to help her because of your archaic judgments against anything to do with genetics. I had to go to Raphael, the man you tried to kill tonight, to find a cure.”

“Don’t be so naïve,” the archbishop said with a sneer. Taking slow steps towards Isaac. “If we allowed that kind of science to continue it would only lead back to the same end: monsters, war and death. The War purged humanity of its arrogance and its fragmentation. All pure men and women were united against a common, alien enemy and now we have a society that works. The same creations that rose up against us pay reparations by completing the hard labour we set them. They are stronger than we are after all. I won’t deny that. It is only a soul that they lack. It would be foolish to waste them.”

Isaac shook his head. “This isn’t right. Everything you say … It’s just so wrong. I’m going to give you over to Malcolm and let him decide what to do with you. I’m guessing it won’t be very pleasant.”

“Isaac? …” Isaac’s head turned involuntarily at the sound of Selene’s voice. He realized his mistake immediately but it was too late. The archbishop’s fist smashed the side of his head with surprising force and Isaac fell to the floor, the gun skittering from his hands. He watched through a haze as Gabriel retrieved the weapon. He could see the hallway outside. Selene’s shadow advancing down it. Gabriel crouching low and aiming the gun. Selene appearing in the doorway …

This was all his fault, Isaac knew. He didn’t deserve the help and support of this amazing woman. It was his naivety that had brought the archbishop’s wrath down on them all. It was his foolishness that had put Raphael in danger. Malcolm was right; he wasn’t worthy of the acceptance he’d received from them. It would be better if he’d just stayed at home in his quiet little life and let his sister die.

… Would that have been better? Looking back at his experiences of the past few days—at meeting Selene and Raphael and the others, at discovering the injustices in the world he lived in, at finding the cure to save his sister’s life, Isaac thought he had the answer.

“No!” he yelled and threw himself on the archbishop. The gun fired, striking the stonework a foot from Selene’s head. They grappled on the floor, Isaac and Gabriel, the gun held between them. Isaac couldn’t tell which way the barrel was facing. It went off and Isaac felt a quick heat on his chest and then nothing.

Nothing. No gunshot wound, no bleeding hole. Just the heat of the muzzle flash. He rolled Gabriel off of him, blood pouring from the archbishop’s throat. He would have lain there for a while, shocked at how his luck continued to hold, but Selene dragged him to his feet.

“Come on,” she said. “The building’s burning down and the cops are on the way.” She kicked the locked door and it flew off its hinges, offering a portal to the outside. They stepped out into the cool night air and Selene guided him around a few corners to where the others waited.

Raphael was there, drinking deeply from a canteen, and his face lit up when he saw Isaac. “My hero,” he said. “I hear you killed one of Gabriel’s goons just for me.”

“Actually,” piped in Selene. “That’s not all. Gabriel’s dead too and I think we all know who to thank.” Appreciative muttering came from the group and Raphael nodded.

“That sounds like it’s worth some kind of reward to me. Now what could I possibly have for you?” He dangled the medicine vial on the string that had held it around his neck. Isaac gasped in relief. He’d almost forgotten about it in the chaos but it was so good to know that his efforts hadn’t been in vain. His sister would live.

“So, big man, what’s the plan now?” Raphael asked him. “You get that medicine to your sister, obviously, but then what? I mean, you can’t exactly go back to your old life after killing the archbishop, can you?”

“Well,” Isaac said slowly. “I know where I want to be but I’m not sure how well that will work out.” He looked sideways at Malcolm.

Malcolm crossed his arms and glowed back. “Well you did kill that old bastard they call a priest. That’s got to be worth something. Just keep out of my way and we shouldn’t have a problem.”

Raphael smiled and hopped up to put Isaac in a bear hug. “Welcome to the family, my boy. Now let’s get out of here before the cops start combing the area for the heinous demons who committed this night’s atrocities.” The group started to move off and Isaac was about to follow when Selene grabbed his arm. He looked into her eyes and once again was lost in how beautiful they were.

“You saved my life back there,” she said. There was a long silence and then she leaned forward and kissed Isaac gently on the lips. They drew apart again and she gave him a little smile. “Try to keep up, pureblood.” She ran off and Isaac stared wonderingly after her.

Things were looking up.

[ASGetty ((Zovo))]

Ref

Spelling & Grammar - 4/5
Ease of Read - 3/5
Use of Topic - 5/10
Entertainment - 12/15
Quality - 11/15

TOTAL - 35/50

Thoughts: An epilogue is hard, esspecially when you haven't written the events prior. I didn't get the sense of finality/looking forward one comes to expect from an epilogue; the sense of looking back on events which have happened and looking forward to a future created by said events. When it ends with all you characters captured, imprisoned or killed; it's difficult to read it as an epilogue because it just feels more final than the end of the story would have been.

I can understand where it would be hard to resist the temptation to discribe things as if encountering them for the first time, but in this particular format that's what has to be done (it should be assumed many things were already described in the story leading up to this point). It's notable that you managed to avoid passing out character descriptions and back stories, though it's hard to tell if this was intentional, or if you simply weren't sure who you were writing about.

Ultimately, this read more like a last or second-to-last chapter than it did an epilogue. I did get a sense of Red Dawn from it; though I didn't really get a good feeling of the dystopia, so much as just three people on the run while life goes on as normal for everyone else.

Mechanically, it looked good, no major mistakes that I saw. A little cluttered, a little rushed in a couple of places, but otherwise good.


Taed

Spelling & Grammar - 4/5
Ease of Read - 4/5
Use of Topic - 6/10
Entertainment - 12/15
Quality - 12/15

TOTAL - 38/50

THOUGHTS: I felt like this piece suffered from alot fo the same issues as Reffy's in that it had the energy of final chapter or an exciting conclusion than the winding down, ease you back to reality feeling of an epilogue. The additional points are largely just as a result of it being clear that your ideas of what had happened prior to this point were a little more fleshed out.

About the only way this would work for me, as an epilogue, is if it were the epilogue for the first book of a trilogy. It had the sense that a story had ended; but was still a bit to dramatic to accept that there wasn't more to come.

That said, this was a difficult topic to judge for me. Whether or not any one piece works as an epilogue depends alot on what kind of story it was to begin with. I had to make assumptions and go with my gut; but I'm standing by my scores.

[James]

Reffy

Spelling & Grammar - 4/5
Ease of Read - 2/5
Use of Topic - 6/10
Entertainment - 10/15
Quality - 11/15

TOTAL - 33/50

I know you detested this topic, so it was good to see you give it a great try.

There were some things lacking though. Spelling was alright, only a mistake or two, but I felt that the pacing was completely out, probably because of the epilogue format. Everything just happened a bit too quickly. Also the diary entries just felt cumbersome, the way they were written were awkward.

Like I mentioned above, I think the epilogue format troubled you. As Zovo touched upon, it had no satisfaction of a finishing story. However I think you handled the Dystopia element quite well, being only hinted at throughout the piece.

As I've said, events seemed to just blur past so I couldn't really get myself into the story. However the writing was good as usual, some of your descriptions were top-notch.

Good effort.

Taed

Spelling & Grammar - 5/5
Ease of Read - 4/5
Use of Topic - 7/10
Entertainment - 12/15
Quality - 12/15

TOTAL - 40/50

Excellent work, Taed.

I didn't notice any mistakes when I read through, and it read through easily enough.

I agree with Zovo with that it doesn't quite have that epilogue feel, but it does have a sense of finality to it, which makes it work. Meanwhile the dystopia part was handled well.

Now... the writing for this entry was excellent and I was entertained throughout but I have one problem with it that probably took away two points.

I didn't like the narrative style. Usually I'm a fan of personal third person narratives, they're far more involved than just the normal third person. But this just felt too informal: 'vids', 'G-Men', it might be what you were going for to give a little bit of flavour, but I just didn't like it.

[Kaez]

Ref
Spelling & Grammar - 4/5
Ease of Read - 3/5
Use of Topic - 6/10
Entertainment - 8/15
Quality - 9/15

Total - 30/50

I agree with Agro and Zovo, for the most part. There was a grammatical mistake or two, and the ease of read was thrown off by a really quick pace (which is the main reason for the deduction on quality, as well, lots of "this happened then that happened then this happened").

As said above, it didn't really feel particularly like an epilogue. It was missing finality, and this is a tough topic, but it just didn't meet expectations in that regard. I, contrary to Agro, thought that the diary pieces were the very best parts of it... which is really unfortunate, when they're the parts that aren't even in the perspective of the topic. Some immersion would have gone a -long- way in getting me sucked into the rest of it, which might have just come with some adjectives, and making it longer.

It was a solid go for it, but it seemed really unelaborated and unpolished.



Taed
Spelling & Grammar - 5/5
Ease of Read - 4/5
Use of Topic - 7/10
Entertainment - 10/15
Quality - 11/15

Total - 37/50

I didn't catch any spelling mistakes, myself. The only ease of read problems I would say is that some of the action scenes were paced pretty roughly -- a little hard to keep 100% on track with at times. The use of the topic was definitely a "end of part 1" sort of feel. Not -quite- a final epilogue, but definitely gave a sense of some conclusion.

It was an interesting story, and contrary to Agro, I liked the style. It either suffered from just not letting me grasp what exactly had led up to this very well, or just being -too- much like an actual epilogue, where some details would be left out. I'm not sure which, but it definitely felt like there could have been work done on the plot, and on some scene transfers, some pacing, etc. But it was a solid work, and for such a rough topic handled it pretty well.

[Jenny (Reffy)]

Grats Taed - good luck for the Finals!

[James]

Final Scores

Taed (115) beats Reffy (98)