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Teague
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 Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 12:22 am Post subject: |
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Author's Note: More to come later today. My brother came home sooner than I expected so now I can't type up any more. Ah well. But yay! Awesome stuff coming up. 
My blood was frozen in a more literal sense by the time I stopped at Clyde’s doorstep.
I had forgotten the full force of a Glaswegian November – not as bad as the later months of winter, but still freezing cold. The glory of being on the same latitude as a place like Moscow. It felt like my fingers were going to fall off each time I moved them. Each knock on Clyde’s door felt like it would be the trigger for ten icicles to drop from my hands and shatter on the floor.
Clyde eventually answered, and a wave of blissfully hot air washed over me. I felt my extremities thaw almost immediately.
“Hey Clyde,” I said, trying to control my chattering teeth.
“Eric,” he said, sounding surprised. “Alri’ there, ma’e?”
“Not really. Can I come in? It’s cold.”
He stepped back and I nearly fell in, relishing the fruit of whatever inventor came up with indoor heating.
I stood in the foyer for a few moments, letting my limbs thaw as the air circulated around me. Clyde shut the door and stood behind me. I could see his confused expression in the reflection of the mirror at the end of the hall.
“Are ye jus’ gon’ stan’ there ‘n’ worshi’ me c’ling o’ are ye gon’ say summat?” he said. I glared at him over my shoulder.
“You know, if I hadn’t known you as long as I have, I’d smack you for being so damn lazy,” I said. Clyde made a face.
“Ha ha. Come on, ‘here’s mor tae me flat th’n thi’.”
He forced his way around me and took an ungraceful flop onto his secondhand settee. I sat down on what his lanky frame didn’t occupy, gingerly avoiding stains of questionable origin.
“Wha’s on yer min’?” Clyde asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting it with a lighter he produced from somewhere between the cushions.
“Spot me one of those and I’ll tell you,” I shot back. He grinned and handed me another fag and his lighter. In between drags, I told him the epic tale of my long battle with my poltergeist, to my conclusion that Penny was behind it, to the realisation that I was wrong and Mum catching me by surprise.
“…And then I just got up and left,” I finished, blowing a cloud of smoke out of the corner of my mouth.
“Bol’cks tae her, ma’e,” Clyde said, only reinforcing the damage I’d already done to myself. “Yer old e’nuf tae control yer own li’e. She needs tae min’ her own bi’ness.”
“Will you talk like a normal human being for once in your life?” I snapped at him before I knew what I was saying. He raised his eyebrows at me.
“What’s with ye?” he said, blissfully articulate, but I still felt slightly guilty for yelling over nothing.
“Sorry. Just a bit tense. I mean, who wouldn’t be?”
“Aye, I agree with ye,” he said. Mentally, I thanked him.
“So what do you think I should do?”
Clyde thought for a moment, smoke from his fag winding round his head. He’d always been at good at pulling off that fag thing – the burning cylinder hung loosely from his lips, the smoke trail seeming to go where he willed it. He didn’t bother to move, sprawled out on his settee and staring blankly at the television screen – which didn’t work properly. It never really had; Clyde just liked watching it struggle to do its job in its last throes of life.
“Ye really should get out of there,” Clyde said suddenly, jerking me back to reality.
“Sorry?”
“Ye heard me,” he said, sitting up and putting out his cigarette on the coffee table – which was originally light brown in colour but turned mostly black with cigarette burns and dirt. “If yer parents are going to try and hold ye down like that, then there’s better things for ye. Hell, me own mum tried the same thing, and I got out as fast as I could. And man, life is great. Look at me! I’m living a dream here.”
He smiled broadly and threw his arms out, inviting me to survey the dingy, badly lit one bedroom that hardly had enough furnishings to sustain a rat. I couldn’t help but think, some dream.
I kept it to myself, though, opting instead for a different internal battle of morals before reopening my mouth.
“To be honest, I was thinking about going to Edinburgh,” I said hesitantly.
Clyde paused, his arms drooping and his smile fading.
“Were ye now?” he asked. I nodded.
“I haven’t made any… serious plans just yet. I’ve only thought about it, toyed with the idea, you know.”
I could see the cogs turning behind his hazel eyes. I tensed, wondering what kind of reaction he would have to such an unexpected bombshell.
“Good for ye,” he said at long last. I breathed a tiny sigh of relief. “Get out of there while ye can, smart now. Good thinking, mate. Better than I could’ve done.”
He playfully punched me in the arm, and I grinned, relieved.
“Have ye told anyone else yet? Chester, or Sarah?”
“Not yet,” I said truthfully. “Like I said, I haven’t made any actual plans yet. I might not even go.”
“Aw, but ye have to go! Especially after what happened with yer mum and trying to control ye and all that.”
“I know… it’s just that…” I trailed off.
“What? It’s just that yer in denial? Face it, mate, yer a smart chap. I trust ye to do what ye think’s best. Yer welcome to stay here long as ye please. And trust me, what’s best for ye is to get a place of yer own – in Edinburgh, if that’s what ye think is right.”
He patted my shoulder awkwardly – brotherly affection wasn’t really his forte – and stood up, walking to the kitchen.
I sat there where he’d left me on the settee, my mind turning in on itself.
The cigarette I had completely forgotten about ran out of tobacco to burn and instead charred my finger. I swore and dropped it, stomping on it with my boot and examining the tiny burn mark already forming.
I still have that scar, even now.
---
Can you tell that was a total ploy to get it so that I didn't have to keep doing Clyde's dialogue that way? God, he annoys me. HE IS GOING TO DIEEEEEEEEEEEE. *wrath* |
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KJ
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| Posted: Mon Mar 24, 2008 6:35 pm Post subject: |
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This is just on the first part; I don't have time to review the others. These are the only things that I didn't like:
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| I could’ve sworn I heard several mutters of “crazy kids” as we strode in. |
He probably did hear it, right? Considering that they were just racing and being loud, etc. So why should he be unsure about it?
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| “Let me know when you want me to actually try to beat you,” I said lazily. He was already breathing hard, flipping me off as we jumped over the park fence in unison |
Earlier you said that Chester was the more athletic one than the MC, so why is it that Chester is already tired and the MC is not?
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| I stared at him for a wee while. |
Cut the "wee". Sounds better with just while.
Good addition. Your descriptions weren't too much, and just enough to help mentally picture the surroundings. The dialogue was very real. I also really liked the race. Will try to read the rest when I have time. |
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Teague
don't touch me, i'm nanoing
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| Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 11:32 pm Post subject: |
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Author's Note: *twiddles thumbs* Eric's drunk! Yayness. xD
Fun stuff on the way. Sit tight. Lotsa plot twists. ^^
+++
In all my years as Clyde’s friend, I never knew how utterly horrible of a cook he was.
In a goodwill gesture, he’d offered to cook dinner for the two of us, and I foolishly accepted. I only took one bite of the unrecognisable slop that he had produced before nearly puking up my entire digestive system.
“On second thought, how about take-away?” I said after ten minutes of trying to wash the foul taste out of my mouth.
Clyde simply grinned.
We settled for fast food – stopping on the way back to pick up some proper drinks, not the fountain sodas we’d gotten with our food – and spent the evening chatting over dinner and Clyde’s shoddy television reception.
I’d bought two bottles of cider – Clyde already had some whisky – and had drained one and was halfway through the other before 10 o’clock had rolled around. Clyde could only beam proudly.
“I worship the ground ye walk on, mate,” he said as I reduced the second bottle’s contest to just a quarter. I set the bottle down, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and chuckled.
“Really? What took you so damn long to figure out my pure awesomeness?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone drink with as much vigor as ye,” he said, pointedly ignoring my question. “I mean, two bottles of cider all to yourself? Mate, I’ve only done half a glass of whisky!”
“I do what I can,” I said dismissively. “By the way, speaking of that whisky of yours, are you planning on finishing it?”
He held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. “Help yerself, mate. I’m just surprised yer still coherent.”
“Same goes for you,” I said, slightly offended. Clyde made a face.
“Ye hardly ate anything, either Mate, how do ye even have breath in yer body?”
“A magic which you are too young and innocent to explore, young Padowan,” I intoned. Clyde flicked a cigarette filter at me.
“I’m older than ye are, ye pretentious sod,” he said. I grinned.
“Age does not matter in the realm of wisdom,” I said airily, taking a flying leap off of the settee as Clyde lunged to tackle me.
I laughed. “Too slow.”
“My house,” Clyde pointed out. “Quit being a smart arse or get out.”
I felt my temper flare even though Clyde’s tone was a joking one, feeling a hand ruffling my proverbial feathers.
“I can be smart with you all I like,” I snapped, a little more anger and defensiveness in my voice than necessary.
“I didn’t say ye couldn’t,” he said. “I wasn’t serious, mate, relax.”
I patted my head, smoothing out my feathers. I sat back down on the couch, no longer caring about the questionable substances that decorated it. Reaching out, my hand closed on the cold glass of the remaining cider bottle. I downed what was left in one gulp.
The two of us sat there in an awkward silence, staring at our shoes. The minutes ticked by silently, the unintelligible dreck spouting from the television the only source of noise.
It felt like a glorious release when the last of the cider permeated into my bloodstream. I felt my muscles relax, my body deflate, and my thoughts simplify in no time flat. It was all I could do not to let out a long, pleasurable sigh.
I giggled. Clyde glanced at me.
“What?” he said. I could only laugh with more badly suppressed glee.
“What is yer problem?” he half-said, half-chuckled.
“I dunno,” I said before falling into a mad fit of laughter.
“Yer drunk!” he said.
“No I am not!”
“Yes ye are. If yer not, what’s so damn funny?”
I only laughed harder. It was infectious – Clyde started to laugh as well.
“Yer pissed, man. Yer pissed off yer damn ass.”
“I am not!”
I stood up, partially stumbling as I started to walk aimlessly before tripping over the coffee table and crashing hard to the floor.
Clyde let out a loud bark of laughter.
“Serves ye right, ye drunken sod,” he said. My temper flared again, and I nearly snarled at him, before discovering how apparently hilarious such a though was.
“I almost… I almost snarled at you,” I said through hysterical laughter, literally rolling on the floor and holding my sides. I crawled up and back on to the settee. “I almost… I almost… haaaah…”
+++
*giggles* Eric is a funny drunk. |
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zankoku_na_tenshi
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| Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2008 5:35 am Post subject: |
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Late! Again! What the heck is wrong with me?
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| “Are ye jus’ gon’ stan’ there ‘n’ worshi’ me c’ling o’ are ye gon’ say summat?” |
...Okay, I know Clyde is supposed to talk strangely and all, but it seems odd to abbreviate "ceiling" that way. I read it as "cling" and was momentarily very confused. XD But do as you like, really.
I really liked the last line of the first bit, and the dialogue in the most recent bit made me laugh.
... I always feel so unhelpful when I critique your work, I've got nothing to offer. XD Sorry, once again, for not having much of use to say. Maybe I'll do better next time...? XD
Great work as always. |
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Teague
don't touch me, i'm nanoing
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| Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2008 5:50 am Post subject: |
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Author's note: OMG. Kick butt new avatar, Zankoku. xD
Er. Anyway. I had more typed up, but apparently I fail at life and didn't save it. D: So yeah. Welcome to the delightful world of BLACKOUTS! =D
Yay. So let's see what fun shite Eric gets into next, seadh? ^^
+++
“Eric!”
I jumped nearly a foot in the air. The glass I was holding fell from my hand and fell to the floor, where it smashed and spilled a clear liquid all over the floor. I stared at it blankly.
Where did I get that? I thought in wonder.
“Eric, I can’t believe you!” the voice said. It was piercingly high, but I couldn’t figure out why Clyde was talking like he’d swallowed a tank full of helium.
Then it clicked.
It was Penny.
“Penny? What… what the hell are you doing at Clyde’s?”
“What do you mean, Clyde’s? This isn’t Clyde’s flat, this is our house. Why would I be at your friend's disgusting excuse for living conditions?”
“Hey, don’t talk about Clyde that way,” I snapped. “I don’t insult your friends.”
“That’s beside the point,” she said, waving her arms in the air. “What are you doing drinking that?”
“Drinking what?”
“That vodka, that’s now making a small puddle on the floor.”
“Vodka?” I said in bewilderment. “I don’t even like vodka.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Eric,” she said in an uncanny likeness of Mum – hands on her hips and everything.
“What? I don’t like vodka. Why the hell would I drink it?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask the bottle in front of you?”
“I… wha… bottle?” I said, glancing down. Sure enough, on the kitchen counter in front of me sat a small, iridescent bottle filled with the same clear liquid as the pool at my feet.
Wait a minute… kitchen counter? When the hell did I get here? And where was I when this happened?
“Why does it matter, anyway?” I said aloud. “I’m nineteen, I’m allowed to-”
“Don’t give me that,” she cut across. “You promised Mum you wouldn’t drink so much anymore, and that you would never drink at home. Remember? A few weeks ago, when you got home from Clyde’s after you two had that big fight? You had a hangover, and more or less swore off alcohol for good.”
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” I insisted.
“Eric,” she groaned. “You’ve been good about it until now…”
“I never promised that I wouldn’t drink!” I yelled. Penny flinched. I hardly ever shouted, and when I did, it was blatantly obvious that something was wrong. “Those words never passed my lips. And when did I get home from Clyde’s? I was there just last night, chatting with him on his settee. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet.”
“Eric, that was well over a month ago. And yes, you did tell Mum that you would stop drinking. I was there, as well as Dad. And yes, you were there too. I shouldn’t have to tell you this. Stop playing stupid.”
She’s being unusually bitchy, I thought, scapegoating as always and cementing a new brick into place – if only I knew how many had appeared while I had apparently been unconscious for a month.
Penny stepped forward, careful not to put her bare feet on the glass covering the floor, and took the vodka bottle. Turning, she retreated to the door.
“Oh, and you also promised Dad you’d take care of the shop all this week, in case you forgot about that too,” she said, uncharacteristically sarcastic. She disappeared, taking the bottle of vodka with her. I felt a small pang to see it go.
I stood riveted to the spot for a moment, gobsmacked. What the hell just happened? I thought, dazed. I looked down at the mess of shattered glass and vodka at my feet. With a sigh, I stepped over to the closet and tugged out a broom.
As I closed the door, I glanced at the hanging wall calendar next to the phone.
It was December.
I froze. December? But it was late November just last night… and now it’s a few days to Hogmanay. Last I checked, America was prepping for their Thanksgiving or whatever it is. But now… December? An entire month… just gone?
“What’s happening to me?” I said in small, weak voice as I slowly started sweeping up the shattered glass.
+++
Two more days passed, and to the best of my knowledge, I was there the whole time. No more unexpected change in location happened, but the last one had taken a month, and I had only counted a few days.
I kept myself on edge, keeping to a strict routine so that I would know exactly what happened, when it happened. Nothing unexpected, nothing I didn’t see coming. I saw almost every living thing as a threat to my carefully structured life. I became antisocial, spending any minute that wasn’t spent drinking or down in the shop holed away in my room, my back against the door so that no one could interrupt my borderline psychopathic episodes.
A knock came at my door came during one such episode. I felt my heart rate jump to around a million beats per minute, feeling like what a hummingbird must.
“Eric? Sarah just called. She wants to meet you at the park later today.”
Shit, I thought, bringing my knees closer to my chest. Mum knocked again.
“Eric? Eric, are you in there?”
“Fine,” I said before my mind could get control of my mouth and come up with a convincing lie. “I’ll see her there. Thanks for the message.”
I felt like kicking myself repeatedly as I listened to Mum walk away, no doubt wondering why her son was acting rather neurotic.
+++
Argh. I wish I had saved it. There's such an interesting tidbit coming up. So much juicy plot stuff. Oh well. |
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"If you don't vote, you're a moron." - Craig Ferguson
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zankoku_na_tenshi
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| Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2008 6:15 pm Post subject: |
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Eeeh?
Eeeeeeh?
EEEEEEHHHH??
Wow. This was a pretty awesome chapter. It left me totally confused and disoriented, but in a good way. I've got to know what happens next!
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| Why would I be at your friend's disgusting excuse for living conditions? |
Nitpick time! "Living conditions" sounds like a rather formal phrase to be using in an argument.
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| No more unexpected change in location happened |
This sentence seems kinda awkward and clunky to me... my first reaction was "Huh?" and I had to read it at least three times before I got what you were saying. Might want to rephrase this.
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| I became antisocial |
This seems a little like telling, rather than showing. I suggest just getting rid of this phrase, because the remainder of the sentence shows us well enough that he became antisocial.
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| feeling like what a hummingbird must. |
Once again, kind of an awkward phrase. "feeling the way a hummingbird must feel" or something similar might be a bit better.
In other news, I love how you've been developing Eric's friends and family members in these last few bits.
So yeah. This is just too awesome, Razor. MORE PLEASE. XD |
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RowanHowler
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| Posted: Wed Jul 23, 2008 5:36 am Post subject: |
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Hello,
A town with a very, very rich history.- very is a word that can be taken out whenever it is used and only strengthen writing. It means (very) little.
Now that we were older, they pinned it down to adolescent boredom.
We pinned it down on the sheer fun of freaking people out.- I think because you say "pin it down to" twice, then the third one should be "pin it down to" and not "pin it down on"
Clyd's speech is very difficult to follow for me.
I love the friendship of the kids already. They're kind of hooligans, but it's endearing. It feels like real friendship, where they are mean in a familiar way to one another.
Watch out that you don't say "wee too much"
A lit match would put our fires to shame.-LOL. I think this chapter was MUCH stronger than the first. It felt very real and in such a short span you managed to establish the main character very well and the environment as well. Great job! |
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Teague
don't touch me, i'm nanoing
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| Posted: Wed Jul 23, 2008 5:51 am Post subject: |
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Okay, um, wow, I've taken a whole new direction with this and I'm gonna lock this for now.
**LOCKED**
-- |
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