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Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2011 22:51:32 GMT -5
Blergh, 8216 words. Here's an except, I guess. “Alright, you two start grabbing boxes,” March said, striding toward the wall to examine it closer and taking his eyes off the crew for a moment, his gun still pointing vaguely in their direction. He heard the movement before he could turn back, the muted clang of the woman’s boots against the deck as she quick stepped closer to him. He turned just in time to receive an open handed punch to his solar plexus. March’s breath flew from his lungs as he stumbled backwards, the wall checking his motion. Still holding onto his gun and futilely trying to suck in breath, the pirate pointed his weapon at the two men who made a beeline straight for him, their faces red with anger.
He squeezed off a burst, blue light shooting out and catching the slightly built ginger full on the chest. The kid collapsed to the ground without a sound, his eyes rolling in their sockets as the pulse of stunning energy shorted out his brain. Before he could fire again, the dark haired ox of a man threw a punch that March felt sure was going to knock his face off if he let it.
Thinking quickly, the pirate ducked under the blow and winced at the clang the fist made against the metal. Without looking back to check to see if the giant had made a dent in the wall, March lashed out with a punch of his own, moving forward to add momentum to the strike. His fist impacted the man right in the chest, instantly following it up with a left hook to the jaw with his gun. The man stumbled back and roared, March hissing in pain of his own at his bruised knuckles.
Pressing his advantage while simultaneously ignoring the agony shooting through his hands, the pirate surged forward, sending another punch into the man’s face. It connected and sent the pilot’s face to the side, March retracting the hand as fast as he could in preparation for another punch. Unfortunately, the giant was quicker than he appeared, grabbing March’s wrist with a steely grip and responding with a quick jab to his kidney. He dropped his gun as the anguish ripped through his lower stomach, trying to escape the giant’s grasp. Another punch took him in the face, snapping his head back, stars exploding into his vision. The pirate lashed out with his now gun free hand, slamming it over and over into the pilot’s midsection. His fist swung lower as he flailed, catching the other man in the groin, his hand gripping March’s wrist tight enough to feel as if the bones were crushing together.
The pirate shouldered into his opponent, his arm twisting painfully in the man’s grip as he did so, and the both fell to the ground in a heap, March on top. He straddled the man, punching downward and impacting the pilot’s face with a nasty crunch. Blood sprayed out of the broken nose, the man coughing and hacking. His hold weakened enough for March to wrench his appendage away and bring both of his hands together for the final blow just as the woman’s boots appeared in his vision.
March looked up just in time to see the barrel of his own gun pointed at his face, Miss No sneering at him from behind it. With a grimace, March slowly raised his hands and stood up, backing away off of the giant’s body. Coughing and his eyes filled with hatred, the pilot reared up in anger to get back into the fight but the woman laid a single hand on his shoulder and stopped him. With his face red both with the blood and the rage pounding visibly through him, the ragged man stood up with his jaw clenched. Practicing fight scenes. Usually mine end prematurely. Wonder if I did good enough explaining this one. |
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Post by James on Nov 4, 2011 23:03:09 GMT -5
He squeezed off a burst, blue light shooting out and catching the slightly built ginger full on the chest. Hairism in action right there, hairist. But seriously, I thought that was really good. You got a nice balance between describing the action and describing the senses. It flowed nicely and it was really easy to picture what was happening. Well written. The only thing I would comment on any room to improve; show, do not tell. There were a couple of times where you told us what was happening as opposed to showing us. Or where you went half-way and showed us... and then told us too. But other than that, good stuff. |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2011 23:21:48 GMT -5
Thank you, Agro, thank you, thank you. Yes, I'm a hairist. Since you're no longer a Commodore, I have to include you somehow, and the best way is a red shirt with red hair.
At any rate, I'm not very good at distinguishing show and tell, so if you're not busy sometime, please direct me to an example in this paragraph so I may fix it. :3
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Post by James on Nov 4, 2011 23:37:13 GMT -5
March’s breath flew from his lungs as he stumbled backwards, the wall checking his motion. Now bearing in mind that sometimes telling is okay, because you don't want to show all the time, this is just an example to highlight it. Instead of telling us that the wall stopped him you could describe the wall pressing up against his back and so on. Ah, blood is spraying from his nose and he's coughing! That must mean he's swallowed some of i- oh you just told me that. See what I mean? The reader was going to come to the same conclusion without you needing to obviously state it. |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2011 23:51:36 GMT -5
I see. Makes sense. I'm afraid I have a problem telegraphing things too much.
Thanks again, Agro!
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Post by James on Nov 4, 2011 23:53:23 GMT -5
I see. Makes sense. I'm afraid I have a problem telegraphing things too much. Thanks again, Agro! The important thing is striking a balance. Sometimes you should tell because if you try and show everything then the whole thing becomes confusingly descriptive. So just keep it in mind as you're writing, once you learn to keep an eye on it then it tends to fall into place. |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 23, 2011 20:28:23 GMT -5
“Hey there, Jan,” March whispered from behind the techie, the man dropping the device he had been messing with. “Got a few things I’d like to ask ya.”
Shaking like a leaf, the man turned around, small sounds emitting from the device in his throat. “M-March. You aren’t gonna shoot me again are you?”
“If I wanted to shoot you again, I already would have, Jan. Relax, I got rid of all my anger at you putting a tracker in my boot when I stunned you earlier,” the pirate gritted out through clenched teeth, a fake smile on his face. The acrid smell of oil and soldering assaulted his nostrils from the techie’s workbench, which was filled with all sorts of trinkets and gizmos. A few of them were spinning around aimlessly, reaching the end of the table and somehow avoiding rolling off by a centimeter, rotating their way through the piles of junk.
“Fortunately for you, you’re a damn useful asset, so now you’re going to answer my questions or I’ll definitely put a bolt through you. Only this time, it won’t be stun and it’ll be in the meaty part of your leg. Won’t die from a wound like that, ‘specially with all the med supplies I brought aboard with me. But I imagine that it’d hurt like the devil.”
“Wha-what do you wa-wanna know?”
“Who’s this contractor Sarah’s working with, Jan?”
The man’s eyes slid to the side, the shaking suddenly ceasing. “I wouldn’t know, she doesn’t let me listen to the communica-.” March pulled his gun out, the man suddenly widening his eyes and putting his hands in front of his face. “Okay, okay, I know where he is, just don’t shoot me, please. Oh, god.”
“God don’t have nothin’ to do with a piece of scrap metal like you, Jan,” March responded kindly, despite his behavior, not returning the gun to his holster, but resting it against his thigh with a threatening glance. “Who’s the employer?”
“I don’t know who he is. I don’t know, okay? I just know he’s from Mars and he’s with one of the local cartels there. The biggest one, part of Ferguson’s bunch, the guy I-.”
“Used to work for, yes, I know. I helped Sarah pull your ass out of there,” the pirate rolled his eyes, remembering the kid Jan had been back then, barely the size of a garbage can and already implanted with the tech that made him more cyborg than human. What is it with my jobs and children, March wondered with a scratch of his beard. “How do you not know who he is if you know who he works for? You’ve got access to their records, don’t you?”
“That’s the thing, I thought I did. But this guy, he’s not showing up anywhere; no names, no jobs, not even a family. He’s like a ghost, March. Like Ferguson’s Phantom.”
“Phantom’s a load of bull, Jan. You know that as well as I do. Ferguson just made him up to keep you and the rest of his cronies in line. He never showed up when we broke you out and I haven’t seen him since then. I haven’t even been attacked by someone I don’t know, ‘side from the General back on that frigate. But something tells me an idiot like him ain’t the Phantom.”
The techie slouched in his seat, staring longingly at the many mechanical objects sitting around him. “Commodore Griffith was the one who attacked you in that frigate.”
“Whatever. Ranks are all the same to me,” March replied irritably, not even bothering to ask why the cyborg knew the information. “One more question, then, and you can get back to your damn machines. What’s on Titan?”
“I don’t know. Some kind of secret base; some private company rented it out and never left. It pays its dues to the local government, so no one bothers it. Heavily defended, too. Shielded from any kind of snooping equipment I have access to. Sarah didn’t believe me when I told her I couldn’t find any information other than the turrets and small city next to the base.”
“City’s our entry point, huh?” March asked, staring hard at the device on his wrist, sighing and wondering at the coincidences he involved himself with on a daily basis. Everything he ever did ended up linked in a way that never ended well with him.
“Yes. Sarah told you?”
The pirate didn’t respond right away, instead flipping his wrist to show the techie what he had showed the mercenary earlier. The tracker for his ship was pulsing steadily on the screen, nearing a small planetoid back in the Sol system. A name orbited the small world, bright against the dark of the room.
“Nope. That’s just where Belle’s landing, smack dab in the middle of the settlement,” March replied with a grunt. “Sarah’s already set in a course. We’re on our way to Titan to get back my ship and start the job all in the same day.”
March is fun to write. |
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