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Young Writers Society


Smokescreen



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Gender: Female
Points: 890
Reviews: 4
Tue Jun 24, 2008 6:57 pm
Leeloo says...



Hey! I have been working on this for ages, then suddenly and violently fell out with it! I think i've seen it too many times, I now truly hate it. I'd really like to look at it through someone else's eyes to try and regain some positiveness about it.
I get like this about a piece of writing a lot; I'd love for someone to critique it for me so I feel like I can get back into it! Thanks.

This the first 'part', I guess.....


Jensen clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, curling a hand around the side of his face to block his eyes from the intruding early morning light. The pain at his temples bit sharply. He cursed their decision for a window booth at Splendido’s Café & Bar three hours ago. Across the street, the sun swelled behind Carmen's Cookie Cutters, spilling lukewarm morning heat over low rooftops and dented car bonnets.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“What?”

Still wincing, Jensen rolled his narrowed eyes up to meet those of his only companion at the table.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Manny's problem is. I mean, I can figure it out and I’ve known him for a lot shorter time than you.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl. Girls are better at feelings.”

She wrapped her hand lightly over his head and tutted, “Sweeping generalisations will get you nowhere.”

He grunted in a non-committal fashion and went back to the newspaper, his headache lurking like a sulking child at the back of his skull. The nausea that rolled in his stomach was being only temporarily abated by keeping his eyes glued to the page beneath him. He’d read the same article on a prized football team’s crushing defeat several times; not once had he absorbed the details nor wanted to turn the page. Turning the page meant moving.

The pair had spent the morning nursing caffeine at the Splendido’s Café Bar since it had opened at five a.m. Time had been cruel to them and already it was eight, the dusty streets outside beckoning to them as the morning heat blossomed. Jensen rose his head gently, grimacing at the movement as he spoke, “How come Manny doesn’t have to come into school today, by the way?”

“He’s got a sick note.”

“How?”

“His guardian wrote it.”

“What guardian? He’s a complete orphan. More to the point, Carrie, he’s a pirate. How do pirates get sick notes written for them?”

Carrie chewed silently on her scrambled eggs and shrugged. Jensen groaned and rolled his head against the window, “Why is everything so bright? My head is killing me.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t see a doctor? You might have concussion. You cracked your head pretty hard.”

“I’m fine.”

They’d mutually agreed in their silent conversation on the way over to Splendido’s that they would not discuss the previous night’s events. Jensen wasn’t particularly fond of going over his own mistakes, and Carrie knew that all too well.

“Are you going to eat something? We’ve got about four and a half hours of assembly coming up and we’ll be standing.”

Carrie clattered her knife and fork down and took a swig of water from the pint glass she’d been given by the waitress.

“I’ll get a Snickers from the vendor,” Jensen grumbled.

“Come on then.”

She stood up from the table, fitting her jacket over her shoulders as she headed for the exit.

“Don’t forget Lesley,”

Jensen heaved himself up from the seat, “Stop giving my guns names,” he muttered, scowling. He leant downwards and picked up the sawn-off shotgun from the bench next to where he’d been sitting.

"On the tab," he said, indicating the table to the waitress. She made a noise of acknowledgement in his direction, not looking up from her book. Jensen slung the shotgun over his shoulder and followed Carrie out of Splendido’s.


Out on the pavement, the town was starting to shuffle into life. A dog walker hunched low in his coat, half-asleep as the dog leaned heavily against its lead, panting and choking in desperation to get somewhere, anywhere. Carrie tucked her fingertips inside the pockets of her jeans and dawdled as Jensen drew up beside her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking about how little I want to have to work at school today. How about we go for a nap in the common room instead of Psychology?”

Jensen shrugged, flexing his fingers around the handle of the gun, “Uh, yeah, if you want.”

“You not tired?”

“No. I just feel like there’s rat gnawing on my brain. Good enough excuse for a nap though.”

They started off in the direction of the school, a light breeze ushering them along. Carrie leaned her head against Jensen’s broad shoulder as they walked, using the opportunity to inspect her feet with her lowered eyes, “Ugh. I got Bug juice on my shoes. Fantastic.”

“That thing must have been full when we shot it. Never seen a Bug’s stomach empty that much after its been shot.”

“That’s a comforting thought. I’d rather it be Bug blood than its last digested meal. And put the gun away Jensen. It’s alright at Splendido’s but how are people on the street meant to know we’re Hunters and not psychos on a spree?”

“Where exactly do I stash a sawn-off shotgun on my person?”

She opened her mouth to reply but the frantic purr of her phone stopped her. She wrestled it from her pocket, lifting her head from Jensen’s warm shoulder to answer, “Hello?”

“Carrie! It’s me, it’s Kai. We kinda need your help.”

“Hi Kai. What’s going on?”

Jensen bristled visibly next to her, and she prodded him gently with a finger with a disapproving look.

“Well the ship’s having a crisis and our captain’s decided to solve it through hysteria.” Behind the voice there were shouts and yells of panic. Something smashed to the ground; furniture groaned against the floor.

“Why what’s happened? You’re not sinking are you? I thought Manny patched the hole up?”

“No, no. This is why we need you; we’ve got a pest problem. They’re everywhere. Bloody ghosts have taken over The Smokescreen. I’ve never seen such a burly crew of men scream like girls.”

Carrie heard the annoyance and frustration behind the calm in her friend’s voice. It was obvious he was the only one on the ship with some vestige of control. Carrie wasn’t surprised; she had started out her hunting career as Kai’s apprentice. He had only retired from that particular venture where their friend Manny had made him Head Cabin Boy of his newly acquired ship.

“Don’t you have any firepower on the ship?”

“Few shotguns. All empty. Can’t find any ammunition. And sabres aren’t so helpful against the deceased. Mind coming to help?”

“Sure. We’re on our way. We’re about five minutes from school; be with you then.”

“We’ll meet you upstairs.”

“Sure,”

Carrie snapped the phone shut and set off wordlessly in the direction of school.

“What’s going on?” Jensen groaned, following awkwardly with his shotgun tucked under his jacket, “I was looking forward to that nap. Let me guess. The Smokescreen sprang a leak? Well that’s not our problem, Manny’s the captain of that damn thing, and him and Kai can work it out themselves.”

Carrie gave her friend a benign smile and slid her hand into his, “It’s ghosts, actually. Sounds like a bit of an invasion. Come on. School’s not far away. We’ll be there in five minutes; we’ll be done in less than an hour. Then you can have your nap.”

“Still don’t see why Kai needs us. He knows how to kill a ghost.”
Carrie’s power-walk speed had brought them to the school gates, and as they passed through them her grip tightened on Jensen’s hand.

“Play nice with him,” she scolded, “And hurry up. It sounds like Manny’s having a coronary.”


Locker Room A might as well have been windowless for all the light the thick shutters let in. Two figures loafed lazily in the gloom, waiting in silence on the bulky tables in the centre of the quiet space. One was stretched out on the table top, fingers tracing a sweep of muscle under the skin of his hips. He rolled his tongue about his teeth, counting molars, staring blankly up at the low ceiling. The beech shutters created a yellowish tinge to the shadows that clung to his hair, the hollows at his collarbone, a curve of muscle in his arm. He let out a long sigh, tapping fingers gently against the tabletop. Once he’d finished feeling the jagged peaks and soft dips of his own teeth, he turned his head to the room’s other occupant.
“How long will they be?”
“Any minute now.”
“How do you know, Manny?”
“I’ll bet they’ll have spent the morning at Splendido’s. So they’ll only be ten minutes away.”
“And Jensen will be with her?”
“Yes. And if two could refrain from having a domestic, Kai, I’d be willing to give you a medal.”
Kai scoffed, but didn’t reply. Manny bit down on his lower lip and flitted his eyes around the corners of the room, bouncing up and down a little with barely contained energy. He sat with a rigid back and fingers scrambling on his lap, scratching at the hardened pads and the sore wicks at his nails.
When Carrie and Jensen did arrive, light from the hallway gushing in behind them, Manny was quick to his feet. He darted forward with an impish grin. Kai remained where he was.
“Hey guys. How’d it go last night? Heard it was a fast mover.”
Jensen grinned and levelled the shotgun with his head, “Awesome. Got it in the back of the head. Not so fast any more.”
Manny stared down the barrel, frowning into the darkness. His pirate hat inched quickly down his forehead, “Don’t do that,” he muttered eventually, pushing it away and lifting up the brim of his hat, “What if it accidentally went off? Put it away.”
“I don’t know, I might just keep it out. Might be something else worth clipping.” Jensen cocked it in direction of the tables.
“Get lost,” Kai snarled from where he lay, “I didn’t leave the crew in charge of themselves and an infestation of ghosts just to come and have an argument with you.”
Jensen opened his mouth to retaliate but Carrie pushed a firm hand against his chest and gave them both an irritated glower.
“Look. I’m tired. I’m in desperate need of a shower, and I have Bug juice on my foot. Whether I spend the rest of the day in a good or bad mood hands delicately in the balance. The last thing I need is for you two is to start butting heads. Now…Manny, show us the ghosts.”
“Sure,” Manny said, giving both his friends a cautious look, “Let’s go.”
Manny was smaller in height but his well-reputed infectious grin was enough to compensate. Wide eyes gave a cheeky glint and the impish smile permanently fixed under a floppy mop of brown hair gave the impression of a continually cheery disposition. He watched his two friends now, however, with a narrowed, calculating stare.
A moment later though, it had vanished and he grinned wide, eyes flaring with delight. He grabbed at his friend’s hand and snatched the shotgun from his loose grip.
“Whoa, where’d you get Lesley all cleaned up?! She looks amazing-”
“Don’t you start,” Jensen barked. Manny grinned and leveled the barrel with Jensen’s head, weighing the gun in his hand with appreciation.
“Don’t wave that thing around,” Jensen frowned, pushing it away.
“You can talk.”
“Yes well I know how to handle a gun. Put it down.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to accidentally blow his face off or anything,” Kai’s discontented grumble rose from behind Manny’s shoulder, “Not that it’d make much of a difference.”
A hefty pause squeezed the humour from the room instantly.
“Give me that gun back,” Jensen said, suddenly, holding out his hand.
Manny clutched the shotgun to his chest, eyes widening, “No. No. He’s the only good Cabin Boy I have. Don’t shoot him. Throw something at him. Yell at him. Just don’t shoot him, I need him to tell the crew what to do.”
“Give me the gun! If I can’t shoot him then I want to do something to him!”
Manny danced away from Jensen’s attempts to reach the gun, tripping over abandoned gym bags and loose trainers until he scrambled back the way in which he came.
Jensen lunged after him, disappearing into hot, quivering air.
“Jensen come back!” Carrie cried, slamming her locker door with a hand and a growl of annoyance. The shimmering disc of air fluttered for a moment then stilled. Locker Room A fell into silence. She glanced at Kai, “I can see why you left him.”
Kai smiled in response.
Carrie shuffled over, leaning heavily against Kai’s strong frame, resting her head against his shoulder, “This is ridiculous. You two need to get this sorted. I never knew two people so violent to one another after breaking up. Is there such thing as a Break-Up Counselor?”
“Probably. Not that I’d want to be stuck in the same space as Jensen for more than half an hour. I don’t know how you’ve been his friend for this long.”
“I guess I didn’t have the greatest screening process when we met. I was only in nappies at the time.”
Carrie brandished the skin on her pale wrist, showing the bruises that blotted around her slender veins.
“Look what that thing did last night. Horrible thing. Two foot of squirming, quick-moving venom. You’re lucky,” she concluded, pulling her sleeves down over her bruised wrists.
“Why?”
“Well you don’t have to go to school anymore. You gave hunting up. You’re a cabin boy on a pirate ship that spends most of its time in the docked in Jamaica. I mean…how easy do you have it?”
Kai shrugged, “I guess. But you can give up hunting if you want.”
“Try telling that to Jensen.”
Carrie crossed the room towards the place where Jensen and Manny had disappeared and extended a hand, her fingers touching warm, thick air that swallowed up the appendages with greedy, shuddering delight. She stepped forward, following the tips of her fingers into the hot wash of rippling atmosphere. Kai tripped in afterwards, ducking his head as he was sucked into blissful, comforting warmth.
-----------
"Demons I get. People are crazy,"

"I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this Killer Truck..."

- Supernatural
  





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Gender: Female
Points: 1090
Reviews: 241
Fri Jun 27, 2008 2:32 am
lyrical_sunshine says...



Leeloo wrote:Hey! I have been working on this for ages, then suddenly and violently fell out with it! I think i've seen it too many times, I now truly hate it. I'd really like to look at it through someone else's eyes to try and regain some positiveness about it.
I get like this about a piece of writing a lot; I'd love for someone to critique it for me so I feel like I can get back into it! Thanks.

This the first 'part', I guess.....


Jensen clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, curling a hand around the side of his face to block his eyes from the intruding early morning light. The pain at his temples bit sharply. He cursed their decision for a window booth at Splendido’s Café & Bar three hours ago. Across the street, the sun swelled behind Carmen's Cookie Cutters, spilling lukewarm morning heat over low rooftops and dented car bonnets.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“What?”

Still wincing, Jensen rolled his narrowed eyes up to meet those of his only companion at the table.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Manny's problem is. I mean, I can figure it out and I’ve known him for a lot shorter time than you.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl. Girls are better at feelings.”

She wrapped her hand lightly over his head and tutted, “Sweeping generalisations will get you nowhere.”

He grunted in a non-committal fashion and went back to the newspaper, his headache lurking like a sulking child at the back of his skull. The nausea that rolled in his stomach was being only temporarily abated by keeping his eyes glued to the page beneath him. He’d read the same article on a prized football team’s crushing defeat several times; not once had he absorbed the details nor wanted to turn the page. Turning the page meant moving.

The pair had spent the morning nursing caffeine at the Splendido’s Café Bar since it had opened at five a.m. Time had been cruel to them and already it was eight, the dusty streets outside beckoning to them as the morning heat blossomed. Jensen rose his head gently, grimacing at the movement as he spoke, “How come Manny doesn’t have to come into school today, by the way?”

“He’s got a sick note.”

“How?”

“His guardian wrote it.”

“What guardian? He’s a complete orphan. More to the point, Carrie, he’s a pirate. How do pirates get sick notes written for them?”

Carrie chewed silently on her scrambled eggs and shrugged. Jensen groaned and rolled his head against the window, “Why is everything so bright? My head is killing me.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t see a doctor? You might have concussion. You cracked your head pretty hard.”

“I’m fine.”

They’d mutually agreed in their silent conversation on the way over to Splendido’s that they would not discuss the previous night’s events. Jensen wasn’t particularly fond of going over his own mistakes, and Carrie knew that all too well.

“Are you going to eat something? We’ve got about four and a half hours of assembly coming up and we’ll be standing.”

Carrie clattered her knife and fork down (that doesn't make a lot of sense...try "Carrie's knife and fork clattered onto her plate" or something) and took a swig of water from the pint glass she’d been given by the waitress.

“I’ll get a Snickers from the vendor,” Jensen grumbled.

“Come on then.”

She stood up from the table, fitting her jacket over her shoulders as she headed for the exit.

“Don’t forget Lesley,”

Jensen heaved himself up from the seat, “Stop giving my guns names,” he muttered, scowling. He [s]leant downwards and[/s] (unnecessary) picked up the sawn-off shotgun from the bench next to where he’d been sitting.

"On the tab," he said, indicating the table to the waitress. She made a noise of acknowledgement in his direction, not looking up from her book. Jensen slung the shotgun over his shoulder and followed Carrie out of Splendido’s.


Out on the pavement, the town was starting to shuffle into life. A dog walker hunched low in his coat, half-asleep as the dog leaned heavily against its lead, panting and choking in desperation to get somewhere, anywhere. Carrie tucked her fingertips inside the pockets of her jeans and dawdled as Jensen drew up beside her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking about how little I want to have to work at school today. How about we go for a nap in the common room instead of Psychology?”

Jensen shrugged, flexing his fingers around the handle of the gun, “Uh, yeah, if you want.”

“You('re) not tired?”

“No. I just feel like there’s rat gnawing on my brain. Good enough excuse for a nap though.”

They started off in the direction of the school, a light breeze ushering them along. Carrie leaned her head against Jensen’s broad shoulder as they walked, using the opportunity to inspect her feet with her lowered eyes, “Ugh. I got Bug juice on my shoes. Fantastic.”

“That thing must have been full when we shot it. Never seen a Bug’s stomach empty that much after its (it's) been shot.”

“That’s a comforting thought. I’d rather it be Bug blood than its last digested meal. And put the gun away Jensen. It’s alright at Splendido’s (comma) but how are people on the street meant to know we’re Hunters and not psychos on a spree?”

“Where exactly do I stash a sawn-off shotgun on my person?”

She opened her mouth to reply but the frantic purr of her phone stopped her. She wrestled it from her pocket, lifting her head from Jensen’s warm shoulder to answer, “Hello?”

“Carrie! It’s me, it’s Kai. We kinda need your help.”

“Hi Kai. What’s going on?”

Jensen bristled visibly next to her, and she prodded him gently with a finger [s]with [/s] ("and" - just sounds better) a disapproving look.

“Well the ship’s having a crisis and our captain’s decided to solve it through hysteria.” Behind the voice there were shouts and yells of panic. Something smashed to the ground; furniture groaned against the floor.

“Why (comma) what’s happened? You’re not sinking are you? I thought Manny patched the hole up?”

“No, no. This is why we need you; we’ve got a pest problem. They’re everywhere. Bloody ghosts have taken over The Smokescreen. I’ve never seen such a burly crew of men scream like girls.”

Carrie heard the annoyance and frustration behind the calm in her friend’s voice. It was obvious he was the only one on the ship with some vestige of control. Carrie wasn’t surprised; she had started out her hunting career as Kai’s apprentice. He had only retired from that particular venture where (when) their friend Manny had made him Head Cabin Boy of his newly acquired ship.

“Don’t you have any firepower on the ship?”

“Few shotguns. All empty. Can’t find any ammunition. And sabres aren’t so helpful against the deceased. Mind coming to help?”

“Sure. We’re on our way. We’re about five minutes from school; be with you then.”

“We’ll meet you upstairs.”

“Sure,”

Carrie snapped the phone shut and set off wordlessly in the direction of school.

“What’s going on?” Jensen groaned, following awkwardly with his shotgun tucked under his jacket, “I was looking forward to that nap. Let me guess. The Smokescreen sprang a leak? Well (comma) that’s not our problem, Manny’s the captain of that damn thing, and him and Kai can work it out themselves.”

Carrie gave her friend a benign smile and slid her hand into his, “It’s ghosts, actually. Sounds like a bit of an invasion. Come on. School’s not far away. We’ll be there in five minutes; we’ll be done in less than an hour. Then you can have your nap.”

“Still don’t see why Kai needs us. He knows how to kill a ghost.”
Carrie’s power-walk speed had brought them to the school gates, and as they passed through them her grip tightened on Jensen’s hand.

“Play nice with him,” she scolded, “And hurry up. It sounds like Manny’s having a coronary.”


Locker Room A might as well have been windowless for all the light the thick shutters let in. Two figures loafed lazily in the gloom, waiting in silence on the bulky tables in the centre of the quiet space. One was stretched out on the table top, fingers tracing a sweep of muscle under the skin of his hips. He rolled his tongue about his teeth, counting molars, staring blankly up at the low ceiling. The beech shutters created a yellowish tinge to the shadows that clung to his hair, the hollows at his collarbone, a curve of muscle in his arm. He let out a long sigh, tapping fingers gently against the tabletop. Once he’d finished feeling the jagged peaks and soft dips of his own teeth, he turned his head to the room’s other occupant.
“How long will they be?”
“Any minute now.”
“How do you know, Manny?”
I’ll (I) bet they’ll have spent the morning at Splendido’s. So they’ll only be ten minutes away.”
“And Jensen will be with her?”
“Yes. And if (you) two could refrain from having a domestic (umm...a domestic what?), Kai, I’d be willing to give you a medal.”
Kai scoffed, but didn’t reply. Manny bit down on his lower lip and flitted his eyes around the corners of the room, bouncing up and down a little (little what? child? puppy?) with barely contained energy. He sat with a rigid back and fingers scrambling on his lap, scratching at the hardened pads and the sore wicks at his nails.
When Carrie and Jensen did arrive, light from the hallway gushing in behind them, Manny was quick to his feet. He darted forward with an impish grin. Kai remained where he was.
“Hey guys. How’d it go last night? Heard it was a fast mover.”
Jensen grinned and levelled the shotgun with his head, “Awesome. Got it in the back of the head. Not so fast any more.”
Manny stared down the barrel, frowning into the darkness. His pirate hat inched quickly down his forehead, “Don’t do that,” he muttered eventually, pushing it away and lifting up the brim of his hat, “What if it accidentally went off? Put it away.”
“I don’t know, I might just keep it out. Might be something else worth clipping.” Jensen cocked it in direction of the tables.
“Get lost,” Kai snarled from where he lay, “I didn’t leave the crew in charge of themselves and an infestation of ghosts just to come and have an argument with you.”
Jensen opened his mouth to retaliate but Carrie pushed a firm hand against his chest and gave them both an irritated glower.
“Look. I’m tired. I’m in desperate need of a shower, and I have Bug juice on my foot. Whether I spend the rest of the day in a good or bad mood [s]hands [/s] (hangs) delicately in the balance. The last thing I need is for you two is to start butting heads. Now…Manny, show us the ghosts.”
“Sure,” Manny said, giving both his friends a cautious look, “Let’s go.”
Manny was smaller in height but his well-reputed infectious grin was enough to compensate. Wide eyes gave a cheeky glint and the impish smile permanently fixed under a floppy mop of brown hair gave the impression of a continually cheery disposition. He watched his two friends now, however, with a narrowed, calculating stare.
A moment later though, it had vanished and he grinned wide, eyes flaring with delight. He grabbed at his friend’s hand and snatched the shotgun from his loose grip.
“Whoa, where’d you get Lesley all cleaned up?! She looks amazing-”
“Don’t you start,” Jensen barked. Manny grinned and leveled the barrel with Jensen’s head, weighing the gun in his hand with appreciation.
“Don’t wave that thing around,” Jensen frowned, pushing it away.
“You can talk.”
“Yes well I know how to handle a gun. Put it down.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to accidentally blow his face off or anything,” Kai’s discontented grumble rose from behind Manny’s shoulder, “Not that it’d make much of a difference.”
A hefty pause squeezed the humour from the room instantly.
“Give me that gun back,” Jensen said, suddenly, holding out his hand.
Manny clutched the shotgun to his chest, eyes widening, “No. No. He’s the only good Cabin Boy I have. Don’t shoot him. Throw something at him. Yell at him. Just don’t shoot him, (period instead of comma) I need him to tell the crew what to do.”
“Give me the gun! If I can’t shoot him then I want to do something to him!”
Manny danced away from Jensen’s attempts to reach the gun, tripping over abandoned gym bags and loose trainers until he scrambled back the way in which he came.
Jensen lunged after him, disappearing into hot, quivering air.
“Jensen come back!” Carrie cried, slamming her locker door with a hand and a growl of annoyance. The shimmering disc of air fluttered for a moment then stilled. Locker Room A fell into silence. She glanced at Kai, “I can see why you left him.”
Kai smiled in response.
Carrie shuffled over, leaning heavily against Kai’s strong frame, resting her head against his shoulder, “This is ridiculous. You two need to get this sorted. I never knew two people so violent to one another after breaking up. Is there such thing as a Break-Up Counselor?”
“Probably. Not that I’d want to be stuck in the same space as Jensen for more than half an hour. I don’t know how you’ve been his friend for this long.”
“I guess I didn’t have the greatest screening process when we met. I was only in nappies at the time.”
Carrie brandished the skin on her pale wrist, showing the bruises that blotted [s]around[/s]her slender veins.
“Look what that thing did last night. Horrible thing (thing is a little redundant. How about beast or creature?). Two foot of squirming, quick-moving venom. You’re lucky,” she concluded, pulling her sleeves down over her bruised wrists.
“Why?”
“Well you don’t have to go to school anymore. You gave hunting up (how about "You gave up hunting"? It sounds a little better). You’re a cabin boy on a pirate ship that spends most of its time [s]in the[/s] docked in Jamaica. I mean…how easy do you have it?”
Kai shrugged, “I guess. But you can give up hunting if you want.”
“Try telling that to Jensen.”
Carrie crossed the room towards the place where Jensen and Manny had disappeared and extended a hand, her fingers touching warm, thick air that swallowed up the appendages with greedy, shuddering delight. She stepped forward, following the tips of her fingers into the hot wash of rippling atmosphere. Kai tripped in afterwards, ducking his head as he was sucked into blissful, comforting warmth.
-----------


Oh man, this was really, really good. Your characters are increibly well developed. I loved the relationships between Carrie and Jensen, Jensen and Kai, and Jensen and Manny. The whole world they're is very well-though out too. You gave us just enough information to see it and feel it, but not enough to info-dump. It was brilliant. Why didn't you let it die? Keep working on it! Or I will beat you over the head with PMs and enthusiastic comments!

Gold star for you! :D
“We’re still here,” he says, his voice cold, his hands shaking. “We know how to be invisible, how to play dead. But at the end of the day, we are still here.” ~Dax

Teacher: "What do we do with adjectives in Spanish?"
S: "We eat them!"
  





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Gender: Female
Points: 890
Reviews: 4
Fri Jun 27, 2008 8:57 am
Leeloo says...



lyrical_sunshine wrote:
Oh man, this was really, really good. Your characters are increibly well developed. I loved the relationships between Carrie and Jensen, Jensen and Kai, and Jensen and Manny. The whole world they're is very well-though out too. You gave us just enough information to see it and feel it, but not enough to info-dump. It was brilliant. Why didn't you let it die? Keep working on it! Or I will beat you over the head with PMs and enthusiastic comments!

Gold star for you! :D


Thank you :D It was really useful all the stuff you pointed out; I will go back to change the bits you highlighted. Sorry about the typos (oops). I try not to do them but usually fail!

Really glad you liked it. It is nice to see it through someone else's eyes, and now I feel a bit more confident about the next bit. Will work on it some more though; I'm still overly critical about it!
"Demons I get. People are crazy,"

"I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this Killer Truck..."

- Supernatural
  





User avatar



Gender: Female
Points: 890
Reviews: 4
Fri Jun 27, 2008 10:15 am
Leeloo says...



The deck of the Smokescreen groaned and sighed with age and exhaustion. The wood was salt-puckered and beaten from the wind, creaking underfoot as the four crossed. The wind punched Jensen in the back of the head, flaring his hair and biting at his exposed neck. His jean legs flapped as though in distress. He grabbed at his collar and pulled it up about his ears, shrinking impossibly further into the thin protection of his coat, holding his gun steadily in the other hand.

Jensen had managed to tackle it from Manny’s hands once they were on the ship, but he still held onto it protectively, pointedly ignoring Kai who walked a few paces to his right. His clear whiskey-brown eyes scanned misty blue seas, and he reminded himself to scold Carrie the minute they were alone about taking this job.

Jamaica was caught in a spell of bad weather, and the ship was not so happy about it. The sudden change in temperature, time, and the ground beneath his feet made his head swim a little, as it always did. He couldn’t remember who told him that the more he moved through the different Worlds the easier it would be. It never did. He still felt a light sense of nausea tug at the bottom of his stomach every time.

Carrie appeared to his right, yelping in surprise as she hit the deck on her knees, “Ahh-ow! Why does that always take me by surprise? I never factor in the fact that the ground will be moving when I step through,” she grumbled, staggering to her feet. She breathed in a lungful of heavy, salty Jamaican air and beamed.

“Now this is why I love the Worlds. You can step from a top floor locker room at an English rural comprehensive in the ordinary World, and onto a pirate ship docked in 17th century Jamaica. Makes me tingle all over.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow suspiciously, “Are you Ok? You seem very…over-zealous.”

“I had four sugars with my coffee this morning,” she admitted, biting her lip, “But come on. We’ve got work to do.”

She followed Manny and Kai who were retreating from the roaring winds down the rickety stairs below decks. Jensen took a moment to breathe in some fresh, clean air before trailing after her, his heart sinking further with every step he took into the bowels of The Smokescreen.

---------------

Manny ducked as a bottle of rum sailed over his head and exploded against the wall, “Don’t go wasting the booze!” he yelled at a shipman who growled in response. Carrie pulled a face when she realised it was not through viciousness but simply because the man had no tongue. Manny's fellow pirate made a gesture to imply terror, then pointed to where Manny had been standing.

“Look, I brought some Hunters,” Manny said, pointing out Jensen and Carrie, “They’ll load those ghosts full of rock-salt and send them back to the sea."

Jensen scratched the back of his head where the lump that had been steadily forming all morning was beginning to itch. He’d hunted infestations of ghosts a number of times before, but for some reason he was struggling to get the sights of his gun fixed on this group before they whizzed away. They seemed faster and stealthier than ghosts he had hunted in the past.

“These things just aren’t dying,” he said, shaking his head, as the pirate ran away to find a better way to defend himself, “It’s taking two or three shots for each.”

“Maybe they had their breakfast this morning,” Carrie pointed out, loading her Magnum with another round.

“Ha-ha.”

The air in front of them flared with an angry white explosion of movement, cold hands curling at their faces.

“Duck!”

Manny threw himself to the floor and Jensen fired. Two more bullets sent the ghost screaming and wailing into nothingness.

“I hate those things!” Manny cried, clutching onto his hat with desperate fingers, “Bleugh! What are they doing? What do they want?”

“We’ll ask that question after we’ve dealt with them.”


Half an hour later, hunched in a seat in Manny’s quarters, Jensen snapped, “What sort of infestation do you call that? Five ghosts?”

“There were more!” Manny protested, throwing out his arms, “They just disappeared when you arrived.”

“Sensible,” Kai grunted from where he lay stretched out on the futon.

“Shut up you,” Jensen snarled, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Did they go?” a new voice piped up, from the futon. Hunt, sitting in between Kai’s legs, blinking through the candlelight, was oddly dressed for a pirate although no-one expected anything different from him. He wore a long grey-blue World War Two captain’s coat, with long stripy socks drooping about his ankles, and apart from a pair of boxers; nothing else.

At the sound of his voice, Jensen dug his fingernails into the wood of his seat, scraping his teeth against the soft inside of his lip.

Carrie interjected, “Yeah it’s Ok, Hunt, they’re all gone.”

“But why did they come?” Kai asked, shuffling around to get more comfy. In the process Hunt slid down next to him, wrapping his coat around him and resting his head on Kai’s arm as though to go to sleep, “Ghosts don’t usually crop up in Other Worlds.

"Ooh, wait, I found this in the newspaper, it was talking about ghosts. Um...wait, let me get it," Manny suddenly cried, springing to action.

As Manny fussed around with bits of paper on his desk, Carrie leant in close to Jensen and whispered clearly in his ear: “Put your hackles down and stop staring at him.”

Jensen turned and blinked at her.

"I'm not staring."

"You look murderous."

Once Manny had handed over the newspaper print, Jensen didn't wait for Carrie to make their excuses to leave.

"Sorry Manny, we really should be getting off. Um…school, and everything….important day today. Ring you later. Call us if there are any more ghosts," Carrie said with her sweetest smile to cover up the feeling of bitterness that Jensen seemed to have left behind him.

"Will do. And read that article. Pretty interesting. Oh, and remember; it's my nineteenth birthday on the twelfth. We're having a party. Shame you couldn't stick around tonight, actually, we're having a retirement party for the oldest guy on my crew."

"Sorry. Jensen...really needs to hand in some coursework at school."

She waved goodbye in a distracted manner and fluttered away after Jensen.

The second she'd caught up with him she whispered, angrily, “I hate having to lie to people, and Manny
is our friend. I had to say you were handing in coursework, by the way, if he asks.”

Jensen didn’t seem to hear. He rounded on Carrie suddenly and snapped, irritably, “I can’t do it, I can’t do it, Ok?”

“Can’t do what?” she asked, although she knew all too well what Jensen was so angry about.

“I can't sit there and watch Kai be near him, Ok? It....Kai and Hunt are the last people I want to be in a room with.”

He lowered his voice but it was still frayed with anger and frustration, “That kid freaks me out."

"Who? Hunt?"

Jensen grunted an affirmative, "Nevermind the fact that when I walked in on them, he just stood there and smiled even though he knew all too well it was my boyfriend that was kissing him. And he’s weird.”

“I think he’s cute,” Carrie conceded, with a shrug, deciding it was best not to talk specifically about the infamous time 'when Jensen walked in on them’.

“And, Ok, he’s a little strange, but it’s no wonder. He did wake up a year ago in a bathtub in a hotel with no memory, Jensen. He’s just…not all there in the head, let’s say.”

“He’s insane! He isn’t just a few fries short of a Happy Meal, he’s missing some chicken nuggets and the little toy too! Now come on, we're going home. I heard that invitation Manny gave you for tonight, and I'm not sticking around to drink with gnarled old pirates and watch my ex-boyfriend paw at his new plaything," he snarled, furling his coat around him imperiously and heading towards the end of the boat.

"Should we sign in at school? They were on our backs last week about missing 'Afternoon Enrichment'. Do you want to go?" Carrie asked, running to catch up, "Or hot-chocolate and marshmallows at my house?"

"Well seeing as we're doing 'expressive dance' in Enrichment today, I think I'll for the hot-chocolate," Jensen conceded, striding through the trembling disc of air back into the Locker Room.

"Good idea. If you had to express yourself through dance today you might hurt someone."

-------
"Demons I get. People are crazy,"

"I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this Killer Truck..."

- Supernatural
  





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Mon Jun 30, 2008 4:43 pm
lyrical_sunshine says...



Leeloo wrote:The deck of the Smokescreen groaned and sighed with age and exhaustion. The wood was salt-puckered and beaten from the wind, creaking underfoot as the four crossed. The wind punched Jensen in the back of the head, flaring his hair and biting at his exposed neck. His jean legs flapped as though in distress. He grabbed at his collar and pulled it up about his ears, shrinking impossibly further into the thin protection of his coat, holding his gun steadily in the other hand.

Jensen had managed to tackle it from Manny’s hands (weird wording..."managed to tackle Manny and wrestle it from his hands..."?) once they were on the ship, but he still held onto it protectively, pointedly ignoring Kai who walked a few paces to his right. His clear whiskey-brown eyes scanned misty blue seas, and he reminded himself to scold Carrie the minute they were alone about taking this job. (How about "...to scole Carrie for taking this job the minute they were alone"? It flows a little better.)

Jamaica was caught in a spell of bad weather, and the ship was not [s]so[/s]happy about it. The sudden change in temperature, time, and the ground beneath his feet made his head swim a little, as it always did. He couldn’t remember who told him that the more he moved through the different Worlds the easier it would be. It never did. (This phrasing is weird...wrong tenses or something. "He couldn't remember who told him that moving through different Worlds would becom easier each time. It never did." I'm not really sure how you'd want to word it; it just doesn't make a ton of sense right now.) He still felt a light sense of nausea tug at the bottom of his stomach every time.

Carrie appeared to his right, yelping in surprise as she hit the deck on her knees, “Ahh-ow! Why does that always take me by surprise? I never factor in the [s]fact[/s] (idea? the whole redundancy thing again) that the ground will be moving when I step through,” she grumbled, staggering to her feet. She breathed in a lungful of heavy, salty Jamaican air and beamed.

“Now this is why I love the Worlds. You can step from a top floor locker room at an English rural comprehensive in the ordinary World, and onto a pirate ship docked in 17th century Jamaica. Makes me tingle all over.” (Nice. We get a little more information about the "Worlds" but not too much.)

Jensen raised an eyebrow suspiciously, “Are you Ok? (okay) You seem very…over-zealous.”

“I had four sugars with my coffee this morning,” she admitted, biting her lip, “But come on. We’ve got work to do.”

She followed Manny and Kai who were retreating from the roaring winds down the rickety stairs below decks (below THE decks, or below deck). Jensen took a moment to breathe in some fresh, clean air before trailing after her, his heart sinking further with every step he took into the bowels of The Smokescreen.

---------------

Manny ducked as a bottle of rum sailed over his head and exploded against the wall, “Don’t go wasting the booze!” he yelled at a shipman who growled in response. Carrie pulled a face (I'm not sure I like this phrase, but that's just me) when she realised it was not through viciousness but simply because the man had no tongue. Manny's fellow pirate made a gesture to imply terror, then pointed to where Manny had been standing.

“Look, I brought some Hunters,” Manny said, pointing out Jensen and Carrie, “They’ll load those ghosts full of rock-salt and send them back to the sea."

Jensen scratched the back of his head where the lump that had been steadily forming all morning was beginning to itch. He’d hunted infestations of ghosts a number of times before, but for some reason he was struggling to get the sights of his gun fixed on this group before they whizzed away. They seemed faster and stealthier than ghosts he had hunted in the past.

“These things just aren’t dying,” he said, shaking his head, as the pirate ran away to find a better way to defend himself, “It’s taking two or three shots for each.”

“Maybe they had their breakfast this morning (haha, you should say something like "Maybe they had their Wheaties this morning." I have no idea why, it just sounded funny in my head. *gets back on subject*),” Carrie pointed out, loading her Magnum with another round.

“Ha-ha.”

The air in front of them flared with an angry white explosion of movement, cold hands curling at their faces.

“Duck!”

Manny threw himself to the floor and Jensen fired. Two more bullets sent the ghost screaming and wailing into nothingness.

“I hate those things!” Manny cried, clutching onto his hat with desperate fingers, “Bleugh! What are they doing? What do they want?”

“We’ll ask that question after we’ve dealt with them.”


Half an hour later, hunched in a seat in Manny’s quarters, Jensen snapped, “What sort of infestation do you call that? Five ghosts?”

“There were more!” Manny protested, throwing out his arms, “They just disappeared when you arrived.”

“Sensible,” Kai grunted from where he lay stretched out on the futon.

“Shut up (comma) you,” Jensen snarled, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Did they go?” a new voice piped up, (no comma) from the futon. Hunt, sitting in between Kai’s legs, blinking through the candlelight, was oddly dressed for a pirate although no-one (no hyphen between no one) expected anything different from him. He wore a long grey-blue World War Two captain’s coat, with long stripy socks drooping about his ankles, and apart from a pair of boxers; (comma instead of semicolon) nothing else.

At the sound of his voice, Jensen dug his fingernails into the wood of his seat, scraping his teeth against the soft inside of his lip.

Carrie interjected, “Yeah it’s Ok (okay), Hunt, they’re all gone.”

“But why did they come?” Kai asked, shuffling around to get more comfy ("comfortable"...comfy seems like a word you would use in dialogue, not description). In the process (In the process of what?) Hunt slid down next to him, wrapping his coat around him and resting his head on Kai’s arm as though to go to sleep, “Ghosts don’t usually crop up in Other Worlds. ("Quotations Marks" :) )

"Ooh, wait, I found this in the newspaper, it was talking about ghosts. Um...wait, let me get it," Manny suddenly cried, springing to action.

As Manny fussed around with bits of paper on his desk, Carrie leant in close to Jensen and whispered clearly in his ear: “Put your hackles down and stop staring at him.”

Jensen turned and blinked at her.

"I'm not staring."

"You look murderous."

Once Manny had handed over the newspaper print, Jensen didn't wait for Carrie to make their excuses to leave.

"Sorry Manny, we really should be getting off. Um…school, and everything….important day today. Ring you later. Call us if there are any more ghosts," Carrie said with her sweetest smile to cover up the feeling of bitterness that Jensen seemed to have left behind him.

"Will do. And read that article. Pretty interesting. Oh, and remember; it's my nineteenth birthday on the twelfth. We're having a party. Shame you couldn't stick around tonight, actually, we're having a retirement party for the oldest guy on my crew."

"Sorry. Jensen...really needs to hand in some coursework at school."

She waved goodbye in a distracted manner and fluttered away after Jensen.

The second she'd caught up with him she whispered, angrily, “I hate having to lie to people, and Manny
is our friend. I had to say you were handing in coursework, by the way, if he asks.”

Jensen didn’t seem to hear. He rounded on Carrie suddenly and snapped, irritably, “I can’t do it, I can’t do it, Ok?”

“Can’t do what?” she asked, although she knew all too well what Jensen was so angry about.

“I can't sit there and watch Kai be near him, Ok (okay)? It....Kai and Hunt are the last people I want to be in a room with.”

He lowered his voice but it was still frayed with anger and frustration, “That kid freaks me out."

"Who? Hunt?"

Jensen grunted an affirmative, "Nevermind the fact that when I walked in on them, he just stood there and smiled even though he knew all too well it was my boyfriend that was kissing him. (*does a double take* Sorry. Did you write about this? I think I missed it...can yo udescribe it in more detail?) And he’s weird.”

“I think he’s cute,” Carrie conceded, with a shrug, deciding it was best not to talk specifically about the infamous time 'when Jensen walked in on them’.

“And, Ok (okay), he’s a little strange, but it’s no wonder. He did wake up a year ago in a bathtub in a hotel with no memory, Jensen. He’s just…not all there [s]in the head[/s], let’s say.”

“He’s insane! He isn’t just a few fries short of a Happy Meal, he’s missing some chicken nuggets and the little toy too! Now come on, we're going home. I heard that invitation Manny gave you for tonight, and I'm not sticking around to drink with gnarled old pirates and watch my ex-boyfriend paw at his new plaything," he snarled, furling his coat around him imperiously and heading towards the end of the boat.

"Should we sign in at school? They were on our backs last week about missing 'Afternoon Enrichment'. Do you want to go?" Carrie asked, running to catch up, "Or hot-chocolate and marshmallows at my house?"

"Well seeing as we're doing 'expressive dance' in Enrichment today, I think I'll (opt? go? choose?) for the hot-chocolate," Jensen conceded, striding through the trembling disc of air back into the Locker Room.

"Good idea. If you had to express yourself through dance today you might hurt someone."

-------


Okay! Comments:

Firstly, I never, ever, EVER would have guessed that Jensen was gay. It felt like you sort of sprung that on us for the heck of it, and it was very jarring. I was dizzy. He struck me as the kind of person who didn't care about any romance - it was very weird how he suddenly started angsting about his ex-boyfriend with a new lover. Maybe you could foreshadow that a little bit? I got the impression that he hated Kai because Kai took the job he wanted or something. Their whole relationship is strained but I'm still confused as to why that is.

Secondly - you have some seriously great description, but keep in mind that description isn't everything. Five sentences of poetic prose about the wind in the sails is beautiful, but unless it's driving the story it should probably be closer to two sentences. Does that make sense?

Thirdly, Hunt seemed to come out of nowhere - first it was just Manny, Kai, Jensen and Carrie, and all of a sudden there's a weird little kid sitting on the futon. Who is he? Why is he? He seems like a really interesting character, and I feel like he deserves more screen-time than just one sentence and a "few fries short of a Happy Meal." Okay? :D

Sorry to sound so critical. This chapter just confused me in a lot of places. I still really like the story. Nice job. I'm looking forward to more. Keep it up!
“We’re still here,” he says, his voice cold, his hands shaking. “We know how to be invisible, how to play dead. But at the end of the day, we are still here.” ~Dax

Teacher: "What do we do with adjectives in Spanish?"
S: "We eat them!"
  








When something is broken, it can be fixed.
— Benjamin Alire Saenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe