"Are there stairs in your house?"
Paul Durant wrote:
The Queen had a gift for a commanding presence. Even now, in the
destroyed throne room, with its tapestries shredded and its immaculate
white tile black with blood, the Queen remained regal and dignified as
she clutched at her breast, hoping to slow the blood loss, trying for
the time needed to do what she had to do. She was the queen of her
people to the last. Death, however, cares little for alliegances.
Right. Well, let's get to it, as always, feel free to ignore me if
you want.
Nice.
The Senshi were murdered, her own daughter crucified and borne as the
Half-Breed's standard. The corpses of the Zodiac were still warm as the
serpent warriors set upon them in a carnivorous frenzy. Her armies were
laid to waste, as the traitorous Generals led the writhing death to her
Palace. All that was left of the great Lunar Empire was herself and
Velious, Captain of the Guard, Guardian Aires. Velious tried to console
her. It is not easy to console someone with the stump of a freshly
severed hand.
Hmm. Who's PoV is that last line from?
Velious leapt into her path, knife in his one remaining hand. "HALT!
If you dare to challenge the Queen, you'll do so over my battered cor--"
Beryl cut him in half with her khopesh effortlessly, not looking at him,
not breaking her stride. Her eyes remained locked on Serenity as she
came to the throne and kneeled, mocking her.
Underlines the point quite well.
"My great Queen! How good of you to grant me this audience! I'm sorry
I had to let myself in, but your palace guards were... indisposed!" The
half-serpent monstrosity cackled, as if she had just uttered the world's
best punchline. Serenity shuddered involuntarily. She grew paler by the
minute. "Oh, this is almost too priceless to be true! It's almost enough
to keep me from killing you... almost. I suppose the fun will have to
wait."
Hm. 'punchline' seems to impair the flow of the story just a tad.
You use very refined words for the most part, which helps underline the
actual events when they happen, and I would suggest something different
for that word. Perhaps 'most humorous anecdote', or the like? You can
probably come up with something better than me, it just offsets the next
bits very well.
Serenity stared at the dark form before her. The woman who had laid
waste to her empire. The woman who had gleefuly slaughtered her only
daughter. The woman who waged war on all that was good and sane. The
woman who brought chaos and corruption to all she touched. She was
laughing.
laid -- lain (Not sure about this one -- judges?)
The palace grounds were ruined. The ornate marble and pearl towers
crumbled. The plazas were shattered. Rifts cracked the surface if
Serenity's beloved Moon. Not uttering a word, she strode to the nearest
of there rifts and dropped the corpse in. Though Serenity's time
remaining on this mortal coil could be measured in minutes, she dared
not look away or even move until she saw the bloodied form pass beyond
her sight into the yawning abyss.
surface if -- surface of
there rifts -- the rifts
The Imperium Crystal. She hadn't dared use it, for fear of the dark
powers it would attract-- but now, with nothing to lose, she had no
other option. Her fingers crackled with otherworldy energy as she
summoned the Scepter into being-- she expected the pain of summoning the
object in her weakened state to be unbearable, but her massive blood
loss had apparently dulled her to all pain. Thanking whatever higher
power may exist, then damning it for forcing her into this position, she
held the Crystal-bearing rod aloft and incanted the words of power she
had hoped would never pass her lips.
'this position' -- does 'this' work? I'm not sure why, but it feels
jarring.
She pitied them. They didn't deserve what she had foisted upon them,
noone did. By simply adding twelve names to the end of her incantation,
she could ensure that they had a chance at a life devoid of conflict and
terror, a life they deserved for their loyal service.
noone -- no one
Ah, now I get it.
And the Crystal shattered.
Oh, that's always a good sign.
Yet there are some societies within the city of Tokyo that are wholly
dangerous and abhorrhent to the body of humanity. These groups, hidden
in the ancient and dripping back-alleys that existed long before the
city was called Edo, plot sinister machinations in service to dark
nameless gods utterly abhorrent to the human consciousness. Few know of
these black cults, for cults they are, and fewer still try to act on
their knowledge. It would be impolite, after all, to expose their
blasphemous rituals and human sacrifice.
Repetition: abhorrhent
Those that did watch the struggle, watched in rapt attention. They
made no sound, and the only motion that could be witnessed was that of
the thin stream of cigarette smoke coming from the gloved hand of one
Jean-Paul Delacroix. Their eyes were fixated on the spectacle.
You might want to transpose the latter two sentences -- makes it
seem as though you're adressing Delacroix as a 'they'.
"I'm serious, Del. And I've seen some pathetic shit in my life. I've
seen a team of blind people try and play arena football. And I can
honestly say, without exaggerating, that this is a million times worse."
Ouch.
She snorted, not one to give up so easily. Standing, arms akimbo, she
began a tirade. "Points? Oh, forgive me, Mr. Big Scorekeeper, give me
more 'points', I EVER so wanted the 2000-point plush bear! I swear to
Christ, you tell me one--" She was cut off by the sensation of a
massive, muscular hand on her shoulder, and the deep baritone voice of
Adrian Freeman continued from where he had stopped her.
"If he tells you one more time to shut up, you'll quit this team, and
go somewhere where you can get a little more respect while we die
without you. We know, we know, it's only the fourth time in as many
weeks you've said it. Now..." he leaned in close to her face and smiled,
"shut the fuck up before I shut you the fuck up."
You might want to move Adrian's intro sentence (dropping the hand on
Polito's shoulder) to the same paragraph as his own dialogue.
"Good, I'm glad we have that settled. Now, it's time to get this
operation started. August, drop that Game Boy, it's time we met the
family."
"Look out Sailor Venus, he's coming in from the right!"
This is the scene transition you want to use for PoV shifts within
the same general scene?
She chanced a quick glance at the doorway, and could not honestly say
she was surprised. A tall man, with short white hair, wearing a light
winter coat, and extendig from his right hand a silver revolver. Just
another normal man who thought the fact he could tote and aim two pounds
of steel somehow placed him equal to-- or above-- the sworn defenders of
all that was right.
So this has happened before, then?
Just another man she'd have to rescue.
Apparently a lot.
"My name is Jean-Paul Delacroix," he said with a nasal French accent,
"And I'm from Canada. I don't have time to get into the particulars, but
suffice--"
accent, "And -- accent. "And -or- accent, "and
"You can't do that," Jupiter said flatly. By this point, a group of
foreigners garbed in similar attire began to stride in. Of course, he'd
expect her to be immediately impressed by their utter lack of skill.
What happened to her attack?
In a flash, the one who called himself Delacroix made a quarter-turn
on one heel, snapped the pistol from its holser, and unloaded the
remaing five slugs directly into the monster's face. To make sure, the
green-tressed woman took a gun from her jacket-- were they all armed?
How stupid could they be? Were they even aware of the laws here?-- and
squeezed what must have been at least 20 rounds into the youma's head
and chest area.
holser -- holster
The sphere contracted near its top, as if pressed by an unseen
stylus. The depression then quickly traced across the man's body,
outlining his rough shape, with several arcane sigils overlaid upon it.
The sphere then, as suddenly as it appeared, vanished, revealing the
man, clad head-to-toe in masterfully wrought interlocking metal plates,
and toting a titanic obsidian axe, at least a meter long.
The blade of the axe, or the handle?
Though it appeared as if he had carelessly dropped the weapon, he
applied enough force to it not only to hack through the youma's body,
but also to embed it at least 30cm into the ground, sundering the
store's concrete foundation.
30cm -- thirty centimeters (spell out numbers less than 100
(according to my HS English teacher, so I'm not sure about that) and
abreviations in prose can be bad.)
Delacroix was not. His tone clearly indicated that, after such a
display of the power he commanded-- or at least, was a part of-- he had
no need to be diplomatic. "Now, I am going to talk, and you are going to
listen, and you are going to listen to me very, very carefully." he
intoned evenly.
carefully." he -- carefully," he
The Senshi had no other choice.
[1]
"Shut up you sassy fucking cunt," snapped the one called Delcaroix,
who then whirled to face Usagi. "My business is as follows: For the next
fifteen days, I am your golden fucking god. You got that? My every word
is engraved on a tablet to be brought down by Charlton Motherfucking
Heston. You're going to follow my every directive, and in doing so you
will survive. But if you DARE to defy me, I'm going to shoot you myself.
And," he turned again, once more facing the green-tressed one, "that
goes for ALL of you. We clear? Good! You have five minutes to get
acquainted while I go get a pack of smokes." With that, he stepped
smartly out the door, sliding his emptied pistol into the inside of his
jacket.
[2]
"Hoo boy," he said in accented Japanese, "That guy needs to get
laid."
Japanese, "That -- Japanese, "that -or- Japanese. "That
She finally arrived at her intended destination, Standing Stones
Child Care. Checking her watch - ahead by five minutes! - she pushed
open the door and walked in.
ahead -- early (Unless her watch is ahead, in which case you can
ignore me)
The mist that hung over Tokyo was heavier in here. More oppressive,
too. The large woman behind the counter gestured to the sign-out sheet
on the desk, then toward the play area in the back where the children
were. Michiru dutifully signed her name and child's name, the same way
she had every day for four years, and walked to the back room.
How long has this girl been going to the daycare center?
The day's activities had obviously included "Arts and Crafts,"
because there were eleven children running about the area in suits of
"Armor" made of abandoned VCR boxes and aluminum foil. They ran back and
forth, fighting, trying to gain an upper hand over what small, pointless
territory they had. A boy with bright red hair and a girl with a green
ponytail stood out the most, shouting as they "shot" each other with
their fingers.
Crafts," -- Crafts" (though I usally use single-quotes if it's not
dialogue. But I've been told I'm wrong to do so.)
They were totally out of control, to be certain. Little children
using such language was just about the worst thing she could think of,
and she just had to stop it. That group of kids in the tinfoil armor
were little more than thugs, even though they were only five years old,
and Michiru would have withdrawn Setsuna from the care center if it
wasn't the only one anywhere near her apartment. She had to settle for
silencing their profanity for now.
and Michiru (I think you can drop that 'and')
She's been taking Setsuna to this daycare center since she was one
year old?
"Come on, Sessy's mom, I'm a god, not the God."
Maybe something to denote bolding/italics? It seems to me that 'a'
and 'the' in young Delacroix's dialogue deserves some emphasis.
"Mrs. Sessy's mom? Could you do me a big favor?"
mom -- Mom (since it's part of her 'name' I think).
"Sure." Ami then handed her the notebook, which only had four words
written on it, in meticulous hiragana.
IA. IA. CTHULHU FTAGHN.
GAAH!
I know I've read it before, and I know it's coming, but something
about the presentation of the entire thing just _creeps me out_.
She said it with no bitterness or sorrow, in fact she said it as if
she was relating the baseball scores. This, as much as the content of
what she said, chilled Michiru. She quickly turned to Makoto, to see
what she had written.
I LIKE MY OLD SEMPAI.
The contrasting between what they've written is.... I don't know a
word, so I'll have to settle for saying that it's brilliant.
And I'm still freaked out.
Her daughter didn't seem to mind the delay, in fact her daughter did
not at first register her presence. Setsuna was engrossed in an origami
frog, meticulously working every crease and corner. It was perfect,
utterly flawless, just like Setsuna. Michiru watched the girl work for a
few seconds before saying, "Okay, honey, it's time to go."
delay, in -- delay; in (I think, but I'm not really sure....)
Setsuna did not look up. She continued to work on her frog, but she
did ask, "Do you like it?"
Why's she working on it still if it's perfect?
"I've already started to pull on you. You don't know, you can't feel
it, but it's happening. When it is done, you will like what you have
become. But now, it would horrify you."
Michiru was horrified, she was scared too much to even talk. What was
going on? What was happening?
I assume the repetition of 'horrify;horrifying' is intentional?
Setsuna turned to her, eyes burning with an otherworldly blue flame.
She held the crane forward and spoke, "But don't be afraid. If you lose
your life, your soul, you haven't lost much. What you have to remember,
Kaioh Michiru..." Here she pulled on a seemingly inconsequential spot on
the crane's wing, causing it to revert to a flat piece of paper in one
fluid motion, "Is that you, too, are borne of the void."
Aren't we all.... Still.
Michiru took a staggering step backward, away from her beloved child.
She was no more than three feet tall, yet she loomed over the entire
room like a towering monolith of insanity. Michiru despreately searched
for words, but nothing escaped her lips save confused babbling. Setsuna
smiled--
despreately -- desperately
Michiru was aroused by the feeling of elbow gently colliding with her
ribs. She looked around in panic, ready to be attacked at any instant,
expecting to be surrounded by monstrous horrors and weeping stone
monuments.
aroused -- roused (unless the elbow turns her on)
Haruka put her hand on Michiru's thigh to reassure her. "Don't worry.
That's what we came here to find out."
Gah....
Additonal Notes: All comments and criticism are greatly appreciated. The
new characters, while appearing to be the centerpiece of the fic, are
not so and are in no way Mary Sues. I also find it a sad state of
affairs that, when prompted with new characters, the reader's first
reaction is "Pfft, another self-insertion" rather than "Boy, I wonder
what the author has planned for these clownboats."
Well, Delacroix certainly seems to cow the senshi into submission
quite easily.
[1]
I have trouble seeing this. They can't say/do anything? The man's
proven only that he's largely incapable of doing serious damage by
himself -- he's got one capable goon, who's just dropped his weapon
while all of the senshi are theoretically battle-ready.
And even when they know they have no choice, they typically don't
let that stop them, do they? Impossible odds, etc. If this is part of
the alternate continuity, it should probably be explained beforehand, so
we know WHY they can't do/say anything in the presence of this guy just
because armor-boy dropped a weapon. (And that transformation/powerup
scene was cool.) I think this part needs work, something to explain why
they're so easily cowed.
[2]
*sigh*
Well, you did say it had bad language, but isn't this just a bit
excessive? As the author, you should know that the less a word is used,
the more impact it has. I do like it, but the excessive language does
keep me from enjoying the story as much as I otherwise would.
Overall, despite my comments, I really enjoyed the story, and the
dream-sequence is a masterpiece. I am in awe. Now if you'll excuse me,
I'm going to go hide under my blankets and yell "go away" to anyone who
comes by.