Sick fantasies from my skull; best wishes. :D

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Miyamoto Usagi
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Sick fantasies from my skull; best wishes. :D

Post by Miyamoto Usagi » Mon Mar 05, 2007 2:40 pm

If it's okay with the mods here I've decided, due to reaction to my tales, that I ought to share some more of my writing with you guys. Of course I'll leave it up to you all if you even want this thread here, but it won't keep me from writing.

Basically, whenever I should decide to write a short story, you can expect to find at least a piece of it here. I've put this in the 'Randomness' section because I won't be putting any of my Lugaru fiction here - My Lugaru stuff, and especially anything relating to Angreifer, Verteidiger, and the wolves of the isle will still be posted in the thread "An attempt at Lugaru fanfiction," assuming of course that that's okay.

I will also be glad to have people post their own fiction, fan- or otherwise, in this thread. Expect at least a measure of constructive criticism, but I may not always be there to give it.

I'm gonna start with something that I wrote maybe two weeks ago, a week before Angreifer made his debut in the Lugaru section of the forum index.

Here goes:
Tales of Dismay, in the Land of Trugbild; Metal Squad, Precious Unit 3.

They were getting closer to their mission. Five men were in this unit, chosen from the fiercest and most skilled combatants in the Empire's army. They stood out fairly clearly in rather distinctive uniforms - black cadet-style caps topped their heads, while white-on-black uniform-shirts covered their chests, with black leather gloves capping either hand. Black trousers, each carrying a holster on the right leg and ammunition-straps on the left, were the norm, and steel-capped black boots met the ground. Long, Inverness-style black cloaks flew in the wind dramatically as the group dashed through the ancient ruin, within which lay their target; An ancient soldier whose intentions were still unknown.
Each man had a codename. Gold was group leader, with Silver his second-in-command. Then came Bronze, followed by Copper, with Brass being the lowest-ranking of the group. The metallic accents on their uniforms matched their codenames, to make eachother easier to identify in a heated situation.
Gold, who was rather fittingly blonde-haired, finally stopped the group's movement with a signal of the arm. They all stood over the edge of the ancient, collapsing colliseum, somewhere above what had once been the seats. All around them, stone that had once been of vibrant colors but had worn down to dull bluegreys and blacks. Above, a section of wall collapsed, landing right next to Brass, who didn't flinch in the slightest.
"... Fan out and search." This was Gold's order, and they all seemed to become blurs, a flurry of black shades moving in different directions. Indeed, the speed of Unit Three could have been described as supernatural.
Gold landed right down in the middle of the colliseum's arena, where he began a quick search for even the slightest clue of where their target had gone.
Silver, meanwhile, disappeared into the gutworks of the colliseum, scanning the interior.
Bronze, Copper, and Brass began searching different sectors of the exterior.
All were in constant radio contact. That is, until Bronze, Copper, and Brass stopped responding.
Gold's head lifted once the implications of the silence set in. They were probably already dead. He reached into his cloak, slowly pulling forth a pair of revolvers, black things with red wooden grips, with long, rectangular barrels. However, the silence and the loneliness was soon forgotten. Behind him, the gate between the arena and the colliseum's interior opened. Someone was approaching. He slowly turned back, to see a figure clad in black armor, a helmet securely covering and hiding his head and features... Though the eyes glowed a hellish, acidic green color.
He drew a sword. A long, thin blade it was... And despite that armor, the figure was easily a match for Gold's speed. The two dashed together towards the center of the arena, and Gold raised his revolvers, firing them simultaneously. The blade that that dark figure held spun, knocking the bullets clean away, before he flung forward and slashed at the captain of Unit Three. Luckily, those revolvers were well-built - at the last second he brought them both in the path of the swing, and managed to block that blade.
Gold pulled his second revolver slightly away, pressing it to the armored figure's skull... But just as he pulled the trigger, a dagger slipped in-between his ribs. However, this wasn't the worst. The armor slowly faded away from the figure as that bullet pierced his helmet and skull... Only to reveal it had been Silver.
Brass was heavily wounded. Beside him lay the corpses of his once-comrades, as he moved towards a sign in an ancient language that rested at the side of the doorway into this arena... He moved towards it, tilting his head as the words on the sign began to shift.
"This be the arena of bloodshed. Whosoever enters shall not leave until blood had been shed. Even brothers will shed one-other's blood in this most holy sanctum of War."
When Brass finally read aloud the last words, he realized what had happened... But it was too late, for his wounds finally caught up to him, and the world went black.

Again, this was originally written before any of Angreifer's tales. Even so, feel free to take a bat at criticizing it.

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Post by Nuky » Mon Mar 05, 2007 9:26 pm

I likey.
Maybe a little bit short, but I wouldn't mind more stories. :wink:

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Post by Colicedus » Mon Mar 05, 2007 10:27 pm


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Post by tallyl.iii » Mon Mar 05, 2007 10:39 pm

A bit clichéd I think and the odd word order in a couple of places bothers me, but I love it nonetheless. Keep up the good work and don't take me too seriously. I'm just about as much of a nitpicker as they get.

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Post by invertin » Tue Mar 06, 2007 3:15 am

Wow, you are good at these.

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Second Installment!

Post by Miyamoto Usagi » Wed Mar 07, 2007 1:05 am

Here's the second installment of the stories from the land of Trugbild. The character in armor, named Goetz Nacht, is inspired by several characters from several different Japanese comics - Namely, Guts from Berserk, Sesshoumaru from Inuyasha, and Himura Kenshin from Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X. He has some unique attributes, of course (Even Guts never wielded TWO huge-ass swords). However, this tale takes place YEARS, maybe even DECADES before the earlier one, and the fact is that Goetz is only a part of the setting as a sort of mythological figure. The story sounds a little half-assed, and any drama might be overshadowed by Goetz' uberness, but it was presented as a 'first arrival' sort of shot, introducing the character. Similar to how Angreifer was introduced by being badass in combat. Anyhow, enough rambling; Here's the tale:

Band of the Red Blade vs. Goetz Nacht - Tales of the Land of Trugbild

There, in the middle of a bloodsoaked and fiery city, amongst the ruins of what had been the courtyard, stood fourteen men. Thirteen of them were similarly dressed - wearing long, red coats over black turtlenecks and black leather trousers, their eyes covered by red-lensed goggles of a sinister sort. The men stood in a circle surrounding what had been the fountain.
Standing there, in the fountain, was the fourteenth man - a man in a blackened suit of armor with golden markings that seemed to bear a holy motif. In either hand, the man brandished an enormous blade that seemed as big (possibly even bigger) than his own entire body.
Surrounding them all were the corpses of the slain, their blood hidden among the red and black of their killer's clothes. Through the visor of the armored man's helmet, one could feel hatred for the deeds committed, and for those who'd dared to commit them.
"Can you even lift those things?" One of the red-clad men asked, a sneer on his face. He had an Uzi pointed at the armored figure's face. What the hell was the man thinking? Even in armor, to rush thirteen gun-toting strangers amongst a field of corpses seemed rather dumb... Especially with such gigantic things weighing him down.
Nonetheless, he seemed stoic, silent... Holding the blades barely aloft from the ground, all but his mouth hidden behind the grim visage of his platemail.
"Let's just end this. Ready... Aim..." The final word never came - the head of the man who'd been giving the command suddenly flew away, smashing like a watermelon against a collapsed section of wall nearby. They hadn't even noticed him moving, but there he was, one of those huge blades outstretched to his side, the end of a swing. It didn't take him long to spin, a whirling dervish of steel, those huge blades disconnecting two torsos from their waists. The survivors responded by firing, but he was still spinning, and as if by sheer luck, the bullets seemed to bounce from his quickly spinning blades, hitting several of the men who'd fired at him.
Three seconds, and a thirteen-man squad was reduced to five men.
"If any of you want to survive, I suggest you walk away now." The hate coming from under that helm was palpable. One could touch it.
The five remaining men all dropped their weapons and ran for their very lives.
Finally sheathing his enormous blades upon his back, the stoic warrior reached for his helm, pulling it slowly from his head, revealing a handsome, if worn, face, surrounding by a crown of long, black hair. Eyes were a piercing, near-white shade of blue.
He stepped away from the fountain and into the war-torn streets... Kneeling down beside one of the bodies of those who'd lived in the village.
"I've failed..."

As always, criticism is invited.

Edit: Before anyone asks, no, I don't know why I chose a videogame website for these purposes. I'm sort of random that way. I just got a positive reaction, so I went with it.

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Post by invertin » Wed Mar 07, 2007 3:25 am

I imagined the swords were like the buster sword from FF7. And yes, he is uber.

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Post by Miyamoto Usagi » Wed Mar 07, 2007 7:18 pm

invertin wrote:I imagined the swords were like the buster sword from FF7. And yes, he is uber.
That's actually a surprisingly accurate reference. The swords did look different from Cloud's in my mind, but in sheer size and girth of blade, the Buster Swords are definitely the right reference.

It's worth nothing that most of my stories follow a sort of Anime sense of logic. Impossible feats of strength and agility, while not NORMAL, are common (Though individuals being able to perform them might still be accused of being inhuman), extremely talented youngsters may sometimes be able to totally pwn an experienced adult, and there's always someone more badass.

It makes sense when one takes a look at my DvD collection, though. :lol: In any case, I still think my stories are deep, if a touch stylized, and sometimes a bit maudlin as well.

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Post by wormguy » Wed Mar 07, 2007 8:38 pm

First one was clichéd, although fun to read. Liked the little plot twist at the end.

Second one was just...clichéd. I've watched enough anime to have seen all that before. Odd use of contractions in some places.

But you definitely have a good grasp of the English language. Good vocab, use of simile. In other words, good mechanics, but the story is a bit uninteresting.

All in all, first one is better because of the teaser at the end.

If I sound a bit harsh, it's because I'm a critic by nature.

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Post by Miyamoto Usagi » Wed Mar 07, 2007 11:33 pm

No worries, guy. Besides, these are specifically short stories. I don't think any of them really represents the full scope of my storytelling ability.

Not to mention that that last one (the one about the character Goetz Nacht) is meant to be an introduction to a character, not by any means a finality.

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Post by Miyamoto Usagi » Fri Mar 09, 2007 10:44 am

Finally a tale with no violence happening during its direct timeline! Although it happens directly following a great battle, so it's still got a sort of implied violence...

It's all storytelling here, though, baby... Hehe. Just so you know, the General, Guntram Crowe, is a total nutbar.
Tales of Dismay in Trugbild - General Guntram Crowe and the Raze Brigade

Stepping over the armored dead, a great military leader and his armed escort were headed through a very deep, very strange tunnel. The tunnel was carved out of crystal, and at its end was a very strange thing indeed... A simple staff made of rosewood, with a ruby at its cap and a golden cap on the other end.
The man was in ceremonial dress, black cloth in a shape reminiscent of a business suit, but with military details. A white shirt underneath, stained with red, and a black tie tucked deep into the coat he wore. Hair was a strange color, a sort of aged, graying blonde. Eyes were an electric shade of green, seeming frightening and hellish, and at the moment, very cold. Tall black boots went up to his knees, stepping past men already conquered.
Behind him, two very respectful guardsmen in armor that looked like nothing so much as medieval plate followed at either flank, their hands wrapped about their machine-guns, which were pointed at a slight upward angle due to the length of their barrels.
"Where is Dietrich?" The general asked, his hand reaching towards the rosewood staff, pulling at it. Red-stained, but white-gloved hand pulled back very suddenly as a blade like a guillotine swiftly swept down, nearly severing his arm. As if it hadn't happened, he simply reached over the spent blade once again, pulling the staff free and then tapping the golden buttcap on the floor.
One of the armored men spoke up. "He said he would be overlooking the battlefield."
"Ahh... Yes..." One more tap upon the floor, and the staff very suddenly released a bolt of flame into the cavern wall, blood-red streaked with oily black blotches, melting away a deep section of the crystalline walls of the cave.
"Very good... I must speak with Dietrich... The two of you stay here in the cave and secure it against any survivors of the Guardian Force..." He turned about, walking past his two escorts and into what might have once been a lush, green field. Heading along the face of the cliff into which the cave was set, he finally stepped around it and up to its lip. There, waiting, was a blonde man clad in a long, brown coat with brass-colored pauldrons build-in. A fine chainmail shirt was worn underneath the coat, as well as brown leather pants. Gauntlets and steel boots were the finishing touch in the man's strange uniform.
"I see you're still having doubts, Dietrich..." Spoke the General, walking towards the lip of the cliff and standing upon it, overlooking their handiwork.
"I've read prophecies, my brother... Prophecies of the end times... And you seem to be fulfilling every one of them."
"I know."
"Dear Dietrich..." He approached the armored figure, placing black-gloved hands on his cheek and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "... The End is not to be feared... It is the event which will mark the end of Evil's existance upon this world..." Pulling away from the knight, he turned again to the battlefield, his eyes sparkling with delight. "... It is a war which I would gladly fight."
Dietrich stayed silent... But the armored soldier looked like he was finally understanding something about his brother.

Just so you know, Guntram and Dietrich are not lovers, nor are they brothers in the warrior sense. Guntram and Dietrich are actually brothers by birth, part of the reason why Dietrich has been so willing to follow him into battle so far despite what he's beginning to realize here.

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