Cianter's writerly musings

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Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Fri Aug 14, 2015 5:32 pm

Hi everyone! I know I'm not super active on here, but I wanted to share some of my writing with you all ^^ I've been writing since I can remember and am currently working on my fourth book (which is so NOT going well >.< I thought maybe getting some of my writing out there would help push me forward a bit ^^) but I also enjoy writing short stories and poetry. I thought I'd share a little bit of everything with you, let's hope this doesn't turn into just me basically talking to myself XD I'm certainly not the best writer in the world, and I have a lootttt of learning to do, but one day I hope to actually get my writing out there for more people to see. For now, I hope you all enjoy, and of course critiques are always welcome :3


This first one is half of a short story I wrote about the Sewol ferry tragedy. Hope you enjoy ^^

She'll Always Come Back - Part 1

"Where's the list?" A woman in her mid forties asked the sixteen-year-old girl who stood before her.

"Mooommmm!" The girls whined. "It's one day, I have everything I need!"


"I'm not saying you don't but the list just might." The women held out her hand expectantly.

The girl let out a soft wisp of a laugh and set her large backpack on the ground. "I left it in my room, let me go get it." She said, her mother once again defeating her.

"You know I love you!" Her mother called after her as she bounded down the hall to her room.

"You say that..." Her daughter's voice yelled, pausing as the sound of objects being thrown about reached the mother's ears.

The mother smiled and shook her head, well aware of the mess she would be greeted with once her daughter finished her search.

"But do you really?" The girl finally finished her sentence as she came running back to stand before her mother.

"Always and forever, even when you don't deserve it." Her mother teased, taking the list, which the girl held crumpled in her hand.

"See, I checked off everything, so we're good, right?" Her daughter shifted her weight from side to side as she anxiously awaited her mother's response. She had once again shouldered her large bag and began inching towards the door her mother had been standing in front of.

"Wait." The woman said calmly but with such authority it would stop a raging bull in its tracks.

"Yesss?" The girl asked, fighting to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

Her mother eyed her. "You didn't check off the mace."

"Oh, mom..." The girl sighed, fighting the frustration.

"Hey!" Her mother said with force, yet there was a subtle hint of playfulness as she raised one eyebrow slightly. "I know you remember that one tim-"

"Ok! You win, mom, plleeaassee just spare me the police officer story again." The girl groaned as she once again set down her bag and ran back to her room.

"Just because he said he was a police officer doesn't mean he actually was!" Her mom yelled after her.

"He had a badge!" The girl yelled back as she rummaged through the mess she had already made and quickly found her pink container of mace.

"People can make fakes of those you know." Her mother stated matter of factly, but a small grin played on the sides of her mouth.

Her daughter just laughed. "I know, mom, I know. Now?" She asked anxiously as she arrived at the door, mace in tow.

"Alright, alright. Grab your bag, let's go." The mother turned and opened the door.

"Yesss!" the daughter squealed and ran out the door as soon as her mom had opened it.

She didn't make it far, however, as a few feet out the door and she had managed to trip over her own feet, falling on her hands and knees with such force that her backpack which had been secured under both arms flipped over her head. Her mother, trying her best not to burst into laughter, helped her daughter bring the heavy bag back over her head and onto her back where it belonged.

"As usual, the grace of a swan." Her mother teased.

Her daughter, whose face was red with embarrassment, looked around to make sure no one had seen, all the while laughing loudly.

"Only me!" The daughter quipped.

"Only you." Her mother agreed, helping her to her feet. "Think you can make it to the car without dying?" She asked her daughter.

"It's a tall order but I think I just might manage."

Her mother smirked. "I do love you, God help me I do."

"Love you too, now let's go!" Her daughter smiled brightly as she made her way to the car, this time without incident.

"I'm so excited!" She squealed as she hopped into the car and they began the long drive to their destination.

Looking at her daughter, the woman marveled at the miracle of her being here, her going on this trip, her smiling this brightly. For years she had been too sick to even attend school and had never been on a school trip before. This was her first time, and it was something she had been looking forward to for months.

The mother listened for a while as her daughter explained in detail all the things she wished to see and do, and specifically who she wished to do them with.

"Just remember," Her mother said as she finished her ideal nighttime date scenario, "If he touches you don't expect there will be children in his near future, he may be too injured to perform for a while."

"Mom!" Her daughter blushed, looking at her mother with a gaping mouth.

Her mother laughed. "Just a bit of forewarning."

The girl shook her head and chuckled. "I'll be sure to let him know."

The remainder of the trip went in much the same fashion as the daughter would say one thing, and the mother would explain to her in the most absurd of fashions the dangers and risks of said activity. By the time they had arrived, both passengers' stomachs were sore from the hour of laughing and enjoying each other's company.

The mother pulled the car next to another parent's car and got out along with her daughter.

"Alright, I guess this is it, the beginning of my freedom." Her mother said, pulling her daughter into a hug.

Her daughter didn't fight it, even as her friends came running up, laughing at the sight.

"Alright, I will be here early tomorrow, if you don't show by eleven you're on your own." Her mother said as she pushed her out to arms length, looking at her with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh yes, let me just walk the five days it takes to get home and I'll see you then."

"Sounds good! I'll enjoy the peace and quiet." Her mother smiled, laughing as the girls all giggled at their antics.

"Yea, yea." Her daughter simply smiled as a whistle was heard from one of their teachers signaling for them to gather.

"Go, have fun, I'll see you soon." her mother pecked her on the cheek and with a final "I love you" bid her farewell. The girl, with a bright smile and a small squeal of joy, ran after her friends.

The mother waited, as she had always done. As her daughter arrived at the boat, she turned, forming a heart with her hands and mouthing the words "I'll miss you."

The woman smiled, nodded, and returned the gesture. "I'll miss you too." She said quietly before giving one final wave and turning to her car.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Sun Aug 16, 2015 1:30 pm

Here's part two, I hope you enjoy ^^

She'll Always Come Back - part 2
Driving home after watching her daughter run off was lonelier than she had imagined it would be. Her daughter was often with her, and the silence, though in some ways a relief was somehow unnerving. She smirked, imagining how peaceful and tidy her life would be once her daughter moved out. As much as it drove her crazy, she knew she would miss it.

Thinking on these things, she went through her usual morning routine that involved the gym, breakfast, and a large grocery list. Three hours later, she found herself back home. She was greeted by the sound of a voice over her answering machine, but it was too muffled for her to make out and it ended soon after she walked in. Locking the door, she went in search of a phone as she realized she had once again forgotten to turn her cell phone on, as she often did on such mornings. Finding a house phone between the living room couch cushions, she checked her messages. There were six, six messages in the three hours she had been gone.

She fought against the lump, which suddenly formed in her throat as she began listening to the first message. It was just some company trying to take her money. The lump, though still present, seemed to shrink. It must have just been a coincidence so many messages were left, nothing would be wrong. Seconds later, this belief was shattered.

The only four words she registered before dropping the phone and running for the door were "There's been an accident"

Tears were already streaming down her face as she ran out the door without even closing it and raced for her car. She started the vehicle and made the hour long drive in forty minutes, arriving once again at the dock where she had dropped off her daughter hours ago. Police and rescue crews swarmed about, looks of fear and sadness covering every face present. Barely turning off her car before racing out, the mother ran to the nearest officer she saw. Everything happened in a blur as she approached the tall man, begging for any news of her daughter.

The world slowed as he told her there had been an accident, that the boat her daughter had been on had capsized, and that they had yet to find any survivors. She collapsed, her world spinning out of control. It continued to spin each day as she waited for news of her daughter. After spending an entire day at the docks, she had been forced to leave. Making the drive back home, she gathered what she needed and got a room at a small inn near the dock, all the while tears framed her face, hardly ceasing as the memories of her daughter came flooding through her pained mind.

Everyday she went and waited for news as she stared out over the water. Within a week, over a hundred passengers had been saved, and over a hundred bodies had been found, none of whom were her daughter. After two weeks, everyone had cleared out and the dock returned to the normal order, which had existed before the tragedy. They told her by now that there was no hope.

Yet still she waited. She barely ate, slept for only few hours every night at the inn and returned, standing and watching as the days passed by.

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry, but there's just no hope. Your daughter is gone." A young officer told her gently as he watched her ever-searching eyes staring out past what he would ever be able to see.

She shook her head. She had heard it all before, and she said the same thing she always had. "She isn't gone; she's going to come back. She'll always come back, because I'll always be waiting."

Shaking his head the officer, as so many before him had done, left the grieving mother.

"She'll come back." She whispered to the wind. "She'll always come back."

Thirty-eight years later

"Dude, it's really her!" A boy of fifteen stood staring at the worn dock.

"There's no way that story is even true." Another boy of the same age said. "There's no way anyone would ever wait that long. There's just no way."

"Would she even still be alive? It's been like, what? Thirty-eight years?"

"She was only like forty-six when it happened. That's not so ludicrous if you ask me." Another boy said as he stared hard at the object of their curiosity.

A lone figure stood, looking over the dock at the calm water as it stretched out before her. What had once been long flowing black hair had now thinned and turned gray. A once straight and strong back now humped and disfigured. Gnarled fingers wrapped shakily around a cane, which hid none of the wear it had endured over the years. Legs so thin they shook under the weight of their burden could be seen from under the unkept dress hanging loosely from the frail figure.

Gathering his courage, the last boy to speak made his way over to the figure. She never looked at him, never even glanced, but he could see her face so clearly regardless. Wrinkled skin framed tired eyes, eyes that had known the depths of sorrow. Lips quivered as a look of determination held them taught.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the boy said timidly, "But what are you doing here? My friends and I are visiting from out of town and we've seen you here every day, and we were just wondering..."

A tired smile filled with more sorrow than could be found in a lifetime spread over the haggard face of a mother long since forgotten. "I'm waiting." She said simply, her voice shaking with the effort.

The boy looked around. "Waiting...for what?" He asked having found nothing of interest.

"Waiting for her to come home."

"So it is true..." the boy breathed, "You're one of the parents of the children who died in the ferry tragedy all those years ago! Why would you still be waiting? I mean, there's no...I mean you can't really believe she's still alive, can you?"

Once again that sorrowful smiled spread over the old woman's face. "I know she's going to come back. She'll always come back, because I'll always be waiting."

The boy, not knowing what else to do, mumbled his apologies and walked away, excitedly telling his friends of his discovery, yet the woman remained, never stirring from her watch. A single tear, the last of millions, fell down her tired face.

"I know you'll come back, because I'll always be waiting." The mother's cane fell as she brought her arthritis-ridden hands together in a gesture they had formed thousands of times before, "Because I'll miss you, too."

Many of us will never personally know the victims of the Sewol ferry tragedy, most will only known them as mother, sister, brother, daughter, father, and son. We may not be able to be there personally for the families, and certainly we would never be able to understand, but at the very least we can never forget those lives lost.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Mon Aug 24, 2015 6:53 pm

Just a random poem, not great but then none of them are XD


My Strength

My strength is so small,
Something which will fall.
But in you is great might,
And the Strength to fight.
You are the sword guarding me,
And the light by which I see.
Though I am so very weak,
It is your hope which I seek.
I cannot do it on my own,
I cannot stand here alone.
But when I feel you near,
Suddenly there is no fear.
You are my one true king,
You are the reason I sing.
Please, give me your hand,
So I have the strength to stand.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Zeldafan2 » Wed Aug 26, 2015 8:51 am

These are good. Your short story did a good job of describing situations without delving into internal monologue, and your word choices were strong. Your poem is also good. The couplet rhyme scheme throughout the entire thing was a bit unconventional, but I think it actually worked.

I do have some things to critique, though. In your short story, there are some run-on sentences and misplaced commas here and there. (Example: She didn't make it far, however, as a few feet out the door and she had managed to trip over her own feet, falling on her hands and knees with such force that her backpack which had been secured under both arms flipped over her head). Also, I feel the short story might have been stronger if you spent more time on the mother's changing attitude in between the first and second parts. Finally, unless you can't do this because it's very specifically based on an actual incident, I'd suggest giving the characters' names. It helps endear the readers to the characters. Also, I'd' suggest reducing the number of syllables in the last line of your poem. Otherwise, though, I think it's really good. :)
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Thu Aug 27, 2015 7:01 pm

@Zeldafan2
Yayyyy, I'm no longer just talking to myself XD Thank you so much, I appreciate both the compliments and critiques ^^ I know grammar is just something I am NOT good at and something I need to work on, and I very grateful you pointed that out as I managed to miss it even with going over the short story multiple times, haha. And I honestly don't know anything about poetry, I've never studies anything about it or really read poems, so I'll have to googled what a couplet rhyme scheme is, but I'm always open to learn XP And I agree it would probably sound better with a shorter last line. As for the name thing I kind of did that because I feel like that's how people think of tragedy, of the people involved. Just a daughter, a mother, a she, a he, also I didn't want to deal with whether to make them Korean names or American XD Anyways, thanks again ^^
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Zeldafan2 » Fri Aug 28, 2015 2:55 pm

No problem. :) You have a natural talent for writing; once you learn all those really irritating grammar rules, I could see you getting REALLY good.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Fri Aug 28, 2015 9:48 pm

That's seriously the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me about my writing (save for my mom, but she doesn't count :P) You're the nicest person ever, hehehe ^^


This is one of my newer poems which was written for my mom. I don't know why but it's one of my favorites, haha. Enjoy ^^

Forget me not

Though you may forget a lot,
Please forget me not.
Of all the many days,
We let waste away.
Of all the tears cried,
Those days you never left my side.
Though you may forget a lot,
Please forget them not.
Of all the long laughter filled drives,
Seeking the freedom for which we strive.
Of all the rage filled fights,
Those long days without light.
Though you may forget a lot,
Please forget those not.
Of all the sad goodbyes,
Those times we fought not to cry.
Of all the joyous reunions,
Those days when we found our fusion.
Though you may forget a lot,
Please forget these not.
Of all the love shared,
And all the pain laid bare.
Of all the warm embraces,
The constant smile on my face.
Though you may forget a lot,
Please, forever forget me not.
Last edited by Cianter on Sun Oct 04, 2015 8:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Zeldafan2 » Sat Aug 29, 2015 12:47 pm

Wow, I can feel the earnest emotion running through this poem. Great job :)

For a couple editorial suggestions, I'd say take out "forever" in the last line, as the clincher works better if it's just "Please forget me not". Also, taking out "long" in line 9 might help as well. Otherwise, though, it's probably the best piece of writing you've posted here.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Sheenar » Sat Aug 29, 2015 3:13 pm

That poem is beautiful, Cianter!!

And, hey, remember our talk about writing? I'm working a bit on that story that's been mulling around in my head for years. :)
"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

"Since the creation of the Internet, the Earth's rotation has been fueled, primarily, by the collective spinning of English teachers in their graves."
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Sat Aug 29, 2015 5:27 pm

Thanks so much, Zelda, your edits are always spot on ^^ And I really like this one too, it meant a lot to me :)

And Sheenar YAAAYYY!!! You totally got this and I just know it's gonna be great! All you have to do is start writing, it's not gonna be perfect at first, but just keep writing (just keep swimming, swimming, swimming :P) and before you know it you'll have this amazing book which you made with your own two hands ^^ I can't wait to read it :D
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Sun Aug 30, 2015 11:33 am

This is a little description of the first series of books I worked on, something that sprang up from an idea I started writing when I was twelve. I wrote the first two books of this series and some of the third, but I then moved onto another idea I had. I've been really feeling like returning to this series lately, though. It is by far the richest and most fleshed out of all my series, and probably the one I love most. Of course having been my first book I will need to do a lot of rewriting, but I think I'm definitely going to take a stab at it sometime soon. I know this description is extremely rough, I've always had a hard time describing this series. I just wrote this when I woke up this morning, and it's very different from how I usually describe this book, but I kind of like it ^^


Halveria is a world inhabited by seven races, seven races who for centuries kept their bloodlines pure. Eventually, however, love and attraction was found in races outside one’s own, and a new race of half-breed children began to appear. These children were gifted with abilities from both parents’ races, as well as new abilities not seen before. Fearing the darkness these children would bring, they were hunted and despised, yet despite all races’ efforts, these powerful children grew in number to the thousands.

These half-breeds, however, were not what was truly to be feared by the people of Halveria. The mixing of races took a different, far more sinister form, in the appearance of the Fel’Nar, an eighth race. In the times of old, the formation of an eighth race meant the coming of darkness, and the rise of the Guardians. Darkness in those from all races found harbor among the Fel’Nar where it festered and grew changing both mind and body. The dark hand of these evil creatures could be seen throughout Halveria, and many knew the time of the Guardians had come again.

As had happened thousands of years ago, there would be a given number of brave heroes who would come together and defeat the darkness, often at the cost of their own lives. This generation took the form of four half-breed girls. Two sisters fleeing from the creatures who took their parents lives, a servant girl seeking her lost friend, and a wanderer content to live alone. Between these four the power of all seven races flows. Chosen, or simply choosing, these four, led by creatures of old, now train to fight for the life of not just their world, but the small glimmer of light left within it. Through defeat and loss, these four young girls will grow into warriors, Guardians of a world in need of not only their strength, but that of one greater.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Wolfsong » Mon Aug 31, 2015 9:30 pm

Cianter that was lovely! You should do this a lot!
I....have nothing to say.
Image
Thank you. Have a good day.
Ima go fangirl some more...
Image
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Zeldafan2 » Wed Sep 02, 2015 4:19 pm

'Sounds interesting. Normally, I'd say the prophecy thing is a bit cliche, but their variety of backgrounds make this concept a bit more distinct. I'd definitely agree you should continue to work on that one.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Mon Sep 07, 2015 12:33 pm

Hi again! Sorry I've been gone for a while, school has been crazy busy XD I do try and do it as often as possible, but inspiration has been scarce of late, Wolfsong. Hopefully one day I'll actually finish the book I'm working on >.< And I know, Zelda, it really does sound cliché, but it's different in the actual book, trying to find a way to translate that into a good description :P But I'm glad there's at least some saving grace with the races thing ^^

So I'm pretty sure this was something I wrote for a scholarship in high school or something. I think it was like write five interesting things about five for five thousand dollars or something, not really sure :P I ended up just looking up facts about five and used what I found, haha. Anyway, it's kind of odd, but reading it amused me so I thought I'd share ^^



Dear mister five,
I received your letter and will attempt to touch on all the points mentioned. I think we first need to address the issues with your childhood you mentioned. Bullying can be a traumatic ordeal to go through, and resembling the letter S so closely couldn't have been easy for you.

I understand that in many schools 3s, 0s 1s, and 5s are the target of bullying, hate crimes, and unnecessary prejudice. Though the battle of the smarts was long ago, hate is still held between letters and numbers, and even slightly resembling a letter these days can be a dangerous thing.

However, instead of wanting to change who you are, you need to focus on the good of being a 5, as opposed to the bad, such as...

Under British law, when you reach the age of five - you are allowed to consume alcoholic beverages in private, such as at home.

There are 5 oceans in the world:
Atlantic, Arctic, Indian, Pacific, and Southern

There are 5 stages of grief:
Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. I'm not actually sure that this is a good thing, but, it does hold some importance so...

A Perfect fifth is the most consonant harmony, and is the basis for most western tuning systems.

Mario Party 5 is the fifth installment in Nintendo's Mario Party series… <---you don't say.

So as you can see, here are five facts (imagine that) which prove just how amazing of a number you are.

Best regards,
The Number Cruncher.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Zeldafan2 » Wed Sep 09, 2015 12:10 pm

Thanks for this; it gave me a chuckle when I needed one. :) Though, I didn't know Britain allowed people to do that . . . :O
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Fri Sep 11, 2015 10:34 pm

Thanks, Zelda ^^ I'm glad it helped \O.O/ And neither did I, but the internet says so it must be true :P

This is just the prologue for my current book. Still a bit rough but it was such a vivd scene for me when I first created this story, and it was really fun to write ^^


“Sorry!” The girl, about eighteen and well built, yelled as she pushed past a group of people.

It was dark as she ran through the outskirts of the city, her destination being the nearest post office. As she ran, she cast occasional glances over her shoulder, fear evident in her eyes. Something sinister lurked in the shadows, something which sought to stop her at any cost.
Flinching as she caught a glimpse of something behind her, she slowed slightly and took a sharp right down an alley. Once she emerged from the narrow space, she stopped, frantically looking around her.

“There.” She panted, seeing the post office she had been seeking to her right.

Without a second though she dashed down the street towards the small building, a small squeal of both excitement at having reached her destination, and fear of being caught when she was so close, escaped her lips. Within seconds, she arrived unscathed at the doors of the post office. Giving the door a quick shove, she bounded in. It was what would be expected from any other post office in a medium sized town. There were people all around with a desk in one corner and branches which led off into small offices and rooms. There were build your own box and tape everywhere, as well as two vintage blue mail boxes

Not slowing she entered the crowded post office, she ran through the throngs of people who took the time to stare at her as she raced past. Ignoring this, she continued on, scanning the crowd as she went, looking for what she had come there for. Seeing what she sought as she neared the exit of the post office, she changed course slightly and ran towards a girl who looked to be around thirteen. Running between the girl and her mother, she snatched away the package the child was holding without slowing.
There were shouts, and people tried to stop her, but she easily avoided them and ran from the post office. She couldn’t stop, she had to keep ahead of them no matter what. Looking at the box she groaned. It was covered in decorative bows, and as she opened it, whilst trying to watch her footing as she ran, she realized it was fan mail. It was loaded with pink paper hearts and in the middle were seven small knitted dolls and what she assumed was a fan letter.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! This better not be for some sissy boys group.” She said aloud to herself as she discarded the contents and grabbed her camcorder which had hung from her neck, all while still running.

She had now come to a large mall parking lot, void of any cars and well lit with street lamps. Glancing back once again, she struggled to get the lens cap off of her camera before she pointed it towards herself. She had originally planned to find a well-lit, quiet place to film this video, but clearly that was no longer an option. She had to send off the package now, and hope whoever received it would be able to help. Speaking quickly into the camera, her pace never slowing, she said her final words and went to shut it off, but something suddenly grabbed her from behind. She screamed as strong, clawed hands grabbed at her legs. She kicked, drawing a small blade from where it had been sheathed in the ankle of her free leg, and stabbed desperately. She could barely make out the black leathery skin despite the brightness of the lights, but she managed to strike it regardless and it released her with a shriek. She sobbed once as she managed to get to her feet and continue running. Her face had been scraped from the fall and her leg burned from where the creature’s claws had dug into her flesh, yet she ran even faster as desperation griped her.

After another minute of furious running, she checked her camera to ensure the tape had remained unscathed. Though the camera itself was badly damaged from the fall, the tape was intact and she retrieved it before dropping the camera. The box had also been squished in the fall but she straightened it out and once again brought her backpack within reach. This process had slowed her considerably, but the sound of claws scraping across the ground close behind her encouraged her to resume the pace she held before.

Taking a shaky breath she pulled s small spherical metal container from her bag. It had unrecognizable symbols covering it and was completely seamless. Placing it and the tape clumsily into the box, she retrieved a small roll of tape from her backpack and used the entire thing to ensure the box was secure. Reaching the end of the parking lot, she looked from left to right, looking for something she had seen earlier. Seeing it, grateful it was still on the route she had guessed it would be taking, she ran for the mail truck driving away from her, having apparently completed its deliveries for the night.

“Please let this reach someone who can help.” She whispered as she ran up to the truck which had stopped at a red light. Barely panting from the long run, she reached the truck touched a small metal device which attached to the palm of her hand against the back door.

The device glowed with life and a large circle which allowed her to see inside the vehicle spread out in a wide diameter around her hand. Looking back frantically once again, she tossed the package in through the now intangible wall, not looking as it thudded onto the ground of the vehicle which began moving again. She had since left the cover of the many lamp lights and now only shadows remained, but her keen eyes immediately saw there were more than shadow haunting the night. Letting out of puff of air in frustration, she threw her backpack back over both shoulders and took a sharp left, drawing the creatures away from her precious delivery. After a time her weariness grew and once again she heard the sound of her attackers drawing close, but worse than that she looked back and saw a shadow racing after the truck.
Her eyes widened slightly and she once again slipped her backpack off one shoulder and brought it around so she could see inside it.

“Didn’t think I’d have to use this so soon.” She murmured as she pulled a small gem from a metal box which had been stuffed into her bag. It was red and dull, yet it shined ever so slightly.

“Keep them away.” She whispered to the gem before throwing it into the air.

It exploded when it left her hand, releasing hundreds of insect like creatures, which immediately flew towards where she had come from, heading for her pursuers and the one following her package. She heard the shrieks as her defense met their targets, but she didn’t stop to admire the view. It was going to be a long night.
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Cianter
 
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Sheenar » Sat Sep 12, 2015 8:17 am

Sounds like an interesting premise for a book! Now I want to find out what happens next!
"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

"Since the creation of the Internet, the Earth's rotation has been fueled, primarily, by the collective spinning of English teachers in their graves."
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Zeldafan2 » Sun Sep 13, 2015 7:28 am

Aside from grammatical/spelling errors here and there, this IS really vivid. You should be proud of how well you understand how vivid description should be written.

I'm with Sheenar; please keep writing.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Sun Oct 04, 2015 7:56 pm

Hi again, guys ^^ Sorry it's been so long since I've posted, school is slowly draining my soul >.< ANYWAYS, thanks, you two ^^ But I'm really going to need an editor when I eventually try and get published because I went over that prologue so many times :P Oh, I have some good news, I've finally started working on rewriting my first book again because my fourth isn't going anywhere right now, but that one really isn't going anywhere either :P Well at least NaNoWriMo is coming up, though it did nothing for me last year XP Well here's another poem, it's one of my first and terrible, but I still kind of like it ^^ When I finish the first chapter of the book I'm working on and get it to the point of not being complete rubbish I'll post it, so yay :D Enjoy :) Oh and hooray! I had no idea I wrote vividly, but I'm glad it's something I'm apparently able to do, thanks for telling me :D

Bad Dreams

They are chasing me,
The shadows of who I might be.
Can no one else see?
I try to run away,
But still they remain.
Why do they cause me such pain?
Will they ever be slain?
How can I keep them at bay?
Why must I always run?
Will I ever again see the sun?
Will this ever be done?
Can I ever face these fears?
Of what will happen to me,
of what I will be.
Of all that I might see
Can I ever stop these tears?
Their claws are getting near,
I scream but no one can hear.
There is so much fear.
It threatens to overwhelm me.
It's too late,
This is my fate,
All I need do is wait.
Now I cannot see.
I feel the familiar sting,
Only tears can bring.
The memories are fading.
I sit up with a start.
It was only a dream.
But what does it mean?
All the things I have seen.
I only remember a small part.
I don't sit for long.
The memory is now gone,
Nothing is wrong.
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Cianter
 
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Mon Oct 12, 2015 7:48 pm

I've been having a really hard time lately, I don't even know why. Thought writing something down might help, and it did, at least for now :)

Be Okay
~~~~~~~
Be strong,
Be better.
Be less today,
Not okay.
It aches for now,
It burns this hour.
The pains of yesterday,
Never there to stay.
Here to there,
There to then.
Stop the tears,
Cease the fears.
It's ok to hurt,
It's safe to cry.
For this one moment,
Let you heart be bent.
When it breaks,
Gather each piece.
Mourn them here,
Hold them dear;
But in the after,
You must stand.
Find that day,
To be okay.
Find courage,
Find hope;
And in Tomorrow,
Free your sorrow.
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Re: Cianter's writerly musings

Postby Cianter » Sat Nov 28, 2015 4:46 pm

Do you know how hard this is for me?
Do you understand that I am broken?
I’m not going to be ok
I’m not going to come back
Not ever from this
Do you understand that this was my love?
Do you understand that my heart is stolen?
I’m not going to make it
I’m not going to be her
This has killed me
Do you understand there is no future?
Do you understand my past is now all?
It’s all I have left
It’s all that will ever be right
This is my death
Do you understand I can’t need you?
Do you understand I can’t hope, or love?
It was my all
It was my forever
This is my end.
Now, do you at last understand?
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