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Post by Kaez on Jan 8, 2015 1:05:02 GMT -5
A favored means of pulling a reader into a setting is by actually presenting them with pieces of writing from within the setting itself. Whether in the form of journal entries, historical excerpts, or religious poetry, the mere act of reading literature that is not about the world, but within the world adds an entirely new layer of depth and dimension, transporting the audience into the setting and vividly and viscerally exposing them to the world the author has created.
Your topic is: MATRIARCH
Your restriction: Must be written as an in-setting historical document.
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Post by Bloodeye the Bai Ze on Jan 12, 2015 23:50:20 GMT -5
Incubalum of the Carcali Emperia: The Last Days of the Home-dwelling and the Great Flight
Authored by Delgini Long-Hunter: formerly First Doctor of the Carcali People
This is a difficult article to write. I am no historical scholar, anthropologist or physicist. I wish I could explain all that went on in the past year. It would be better if someone else could have written this. A portion of my heart wishes someone else were here, in my place, while I could be with our people as they make their voyage.
But to do so… would have wounded me even greater. I’d rather be abandoned and try to live my life as well as I can in what is left of our empire than be up there, knowing that my family and I were safe while the vast majority of our culture is left to ruined infrastructure and forgotten rule of law.
Suffice it to say, I am a doctor. Healing the sick is my passion, not writing, but I’ll do my best: I do this for you.
Our people, the Carcali, have always had a strong connection with the space outside our world. It was our understanding that those that first gave our culture an understanding of astrology had come from another world beyond our own. Then they left. Just up and vanished like they never existed. We studied the stars for eons before most of the other races were capable of figuring out that these bright lights weren’t just holes punched out of a large black cloth. I don’t have details, there are other books for that, but for thousands of years the Carcali pursued a single societal goal that regulated everything to our culture.
We wanted to go to the stars.
Every scientific advancement, every war fought, and every new problem found was all for our final ascent into the deep black space. Every Carcali wished to add to this, knowing each step we took was one step closer to realizing our dream. Even those that died before the Great Flight longed to have their names remembered for their contribution to the cause.
Contribution. To give your all, even in death, with the hope that you’ll one day have your name spoken on another world. I can say, with some amount of pride and shame, my name is among those few. However, whether I will be remembered as the doctor that created a genetic modification to allow for instantaneous disease adaptation or the fool who disregarded the works of the high caste in an attempt to save everyone, is something I’ll never know. Truthfully, I really don’t want to.
In any case, we became the most advanced and politically powerful species to ever walk this planet. After some time, we didn’t even need to engage in war. A time we called a time of peace was for everyone else a time of constant fear that at any moment we could simply push a button and wipe out an entire race. It had happened before. No reason it couldn’t happen again. I suppose that when one has no enemies left, they look to themselves for opposition. So we turned on ourselves. It began mildly. If your profession had little impact on the building of our ships or living on the voyage, then the government quietly mistreated you. More taxes, more sanctions on products. Farmers were governed as to what food they could grow. Businesses told what and how they could sell. Art, Philosophy, our very Culture, being pressured into the fanatical belief that the time of leaving was upon us. It became everything. You spent every waking moment trying as hard as you could to just do something, anything that could possibly help the process in every way. But it only got harder to do so. Soon our leaders began to collect and destroy any public information, claiming that it was for the greater good. Everything became secretive. You lived for your secrets. Information that you could keep to yourself was precious. I didn’t know what it was like until I was enlisted into the high caste. My work, my legacy, my great love next to my doting husband, was my ticket to a better life. We all strove for a chance to be where I was. I felt blessed and proud. It was the best work of my life, full of ego, argument, and success. As I worked my way up the ranks, I gained access to more and more information. There was a time when I could snap my fingers and ask for any tidbit of data that I required. Sometimes, to myself, I’d wish that I didn’t have the resources just for the utter enjoyment of the challenge.
I was young. Naïve. If I could go back, I would. I’d tell that young girl what was going to happen and hope she was smart enough to know what was right.
I can’t. The past is the past.
By the time I was promoted to First Doctor of the Emperia, all I could see was the seat on the ship. I wasn’t the only one. Our political leaders were all but consumed by just having a spot during the voyage. To be honest, I think a lot of them were celebrating even before initial engine tests had taken place. Government on an administrative level just… stopped. No one gave any orders. No laws were being made. Why should there be? Everyone was just waiting for the moment that our whole race was going to leave this planet and make the grand journey to something greater than ourselves.
So when it finally was revealed that our entire race wouldn’t be able to make the journey, the reaction was… I don’t think I have a word for it. Someone who dabbles in literature rather than genetics would be able to describe it to the letter. But all I can seem to think about is all the gunfire and blood. Our military was expected to be on the ships, of course, but the general citizenry was just too big. They had worked so hard for this, only to never be given the chance to make the voyage. I remember looking out the windows of my home, my youngest who was no older than a few weeks clutched in my arms, and just crying. I’d never imagined so much loss of life. My family’s private escort had arrived to pick us up and take us to our ship and I swear they brought a platoon to do it. My husband… bless him… was furious. I’d never seen him in such a state.
He yelled at the lieutenant, called him everything. Murderer! Villain! Psychopath! All the officer did was put his hands up, covered in some traces of blood, and claimed that it was on everyone. We were all responsible for this slaughter. My husband lost all control. I can still see him charging at the soldiers in my dreams. Every time I do as I did that day, I reach out to him. I scream as hard as I can, hoping this time, this one time, he’ll stop and everything will be all right.
That gunshot felt like it was for me. The sound tore right thru my chest and into the darkest depths of my heart. I watched his body crumple to the floor lifeless.
My mind started to race with medical possibilities. Every scenario I could think of rushed in my thoughts. I wanted so badly to have an answer that meant he was still alive.
A second gunshot. This time to the head.
I died. My body lived, but I died.
The lieutenant said something that I can’t for the life of me remember. The soldiers wandered in and grabbed my older children. They were all crying, reaching for their father lying cold on the floor. I couldn’t even reply to them. I couldn’t get the breath to reassure them. I couldn’t even reassure myself. They took my babies away. It as the last time I’d see them.
One soldier came up to me and grabbed my arm, but the officer reprimanded him. I lifted my youngest, my baby boy, to the soldier. I expected them to take him too. But the officer just shook his head. To this day, I still have no idea why they didn’t take him with his brothers and sisters. The soldiers just left.
I watched the ships leave this world. Some of our people tried in vain to climb the ships just as they took off. Death by exhaust fire must have been sudden. I remember looking out across an orange sunset in the middle of the day as my people ascended into the sky. I had stood on that same hill as a girl, imagining how this very scene would look from there. But the magic of my childhood was replaced with nothing. I was empty and cold.
Those of us left behind tried to rebuild. After all the carnage, however, we were too few. Resources dwindled. Even before the Thret invaded, we were infighting. No one had any hope left. No one put up a fight.
As I write this, I know my own time is slowly coming to an end. I haven’t eaten in days. I gave what food I found to my last son. He’s still growing and one day he’ll be strong. I just… won’t see it. Every time he cries, I cry. I want more time. I want the life back that was taken from me. From him.
Whoever reads this, I beg you to take my baby. I’ll be gone soon. I regret everything that will happen to him. Please. Keep this scroll as the last piece of history left of the Carcali.
And if my son reads this, then… remember us. I remember our people.
I love you. I always will. |
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Post by ASGetty ((Zovo)) on Jan 18, 2015 16:24:38 GMT -5
Removed, Please See Author |
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Post by Matteo ((Taed)) on Feb 17, 2015 11:00:08 GMT -5
Bloodeye:
This seems odd. Presumably, she's the one who actually earned a seat. The kids are her +1. Why would they take her family once it was obvious that their VIP no longer wanted to go?
And why would she let them split her kids up like that? It seems like even if she stayed, she'd want all her kids to go. Instead of letting some leave, and keeping on behind in a doomed society.
It seems a little unbelievable that the whole society was involved in building these ships, but nobody ran the numbers on seating capacity outside of the central government
Interesting word choice. To me, the first meaning it conveys is that they're running from something, rather than simply looking to fly
Might benefit from clarification that other sentient species evolved independently on one planet. "The x, the y, none could match us." Right now it could be a bit confusing, given that you're clearly still building up to spaceflight, but other races is usually something we associate with visiting other planets in sci-fi.
Overall, a clear and concise primer on the setting, it conveys all the information it needs to convey. Very effective, especially when paired with the first story, so that you aren't just frontloading a bunch of exposition, you're letting the reader be exposed to some mystery before you start to give them the answers.
The theme of a unified goal turning into something less noble is very interesting. Sort of a big brother/Nazi Germany vibe, where you can clearly imagine everyday people, working towards an objectively respectable task, turning on one another. Not openly, but in the manner of passive-aggression; snide judgements on whether or not your neighbours are doing everything they can for the Great Common Task. I'd like some more exposition on how exactly the drive became corrupted. How co-operation and unity turned into competition and sanctimoniousness.
The conceit of the mother writing to her child seems wonky, especially at the end. Why is she dying? Is the implication that her child can't take care of himself yet? How's he going to hack it without her?
Also, if the shitty weather from the first story is an implication that the ship departures altered the environment somehow, I'd like to see a little throwaway reference to that in here. Something about scorching the earth.
Zovo:
Why doesn't he dump Rufus? Zombie companionship seems a poor consolation for living in effluent.
Having said that, I like this jokey, half-crazy tone.
It's a little hard to believe that she conveyed this idea so easily. Not story-breaking, though. Just something that made me think she must be really good at sign-language.
I have such a hard time reviewing the good parts of things. This story was enjoyable in that simple, plain-spoken way that some stories are. My preferred style flies so far in the opposite direction that I rarely feel qualified to comment on this type of piece. Suffice is to say, everything worked. Easy comprehension; clean, understated prose; it got the events across without a fuss. I was kept reading more by the pace than the poetry, which is in no way a criticism. I've mentioned before how I like assembling stories like puzzles, and with such a sedate approach, this story kept me hooked for sheer possibility. It could have gone just about any which way, and I wanted to find out which.
I'm pretty much positive that he won't get to marry Helei. Is "the Queen" a volcano? I'm excited to find out.
Winner: Zovo
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