Again, thank you for what you wrote. 
I didn't realize that my character was so shallow XDXDXDXDXDXDXD
I'll work on that. Get into her head more, and try to fix those parts X(
^-^V
This is the next part. ^-^v
“How sweet of you, Atlanta.”
A thread of confusion meandered into the blank of my mind. Atlanta? Why had he called me that? This wasn’t making any sense. Things that didn’t make sense made me angry. I jerked out of his grasp, ignoring the ripping of my hair. Sitting there and doing nothing was not going to help the situation. I glanced around, refocusing my mind. I was trying to get the needle out of him, I remembered. I was starting to have second thoughts, though. Part of my mind was screaming to get the flock out of there, find Melek and run, but there was that part that was pestering me to stay. Well, I rationalized, no use leaving the job unfinished. Even though my job had taken quite a nasty turn. I leaned towards him and grabbed the needle, my fingers shaking. I winced when I felt it move around inside of him. That was gross. The man chuckled, leaning over to see my work.
“After all this time, you want me to just leave? Shame, shame Atlanta.”
Something in his words made me realize something. Whoever I was talking to was not the person sitting in front of me. I briefly wondered if he was an evil spirit or something. I looked up at him, seeing his pain when I moved the needle, but his eyes… it was hard to describe. His eyes showed no pain, almost as if they were a completely separate being from the rest of his body. It seemed like the real person was asleep. I shook these thoughts away. This is no time for observations, I thought irately. I jerked the needle violently, horrified that it was several inches long, and still inside of him. I closed my eyes, composing myself. That was really gross. That huge needle dripping with the oozing blackness was almost too much.
“Atlanta-” his voice was calm, his hand rested softly on my hair. I ignored him and pulled again, watching five more inches slide out. This was more like a pole than a needle, I thought exasperated. The black goop gathered itself and latched onto the end of the rod, making every noise to disgust me. I tried brushing it away, but to no avail. It would only squirm and jitter, desperate to cling on to the thin rod. I scowled, losing my patience and began smacking the stuff away. As soon as I touched it, there was a most inhuman sound- a metal splitting, ice cracking, freezing your skin off kind of sound.
I suddenly found myself inches from the creature’s eyes. Silence, except our shuddering breath and the black junk squelching around us.
“What are you trying to do to me, Atlanta?” He murmured, his tightened grip betraying his anger. “I have always loved you. Why are you trying to destroy me?”
“You shouldn’t do that to people.”
That was really lame, I thought. In books they always spouted some beautiful poem or song.
“Atlanta… you traitor!”
He flung me away. I crashed to the ground, the rod ripping across my hand. I hugged it to my chest, watching as he stood. He ripped the rod out of his side, breathing hard, the black goop creating a web around him. He looked at it for a moment, then glared at me.
“You know how much I have done for you.”
He advanced, lifting the spear. I scooted away, my stomach plummeting. He was going to kill me. Part of me didn’t understand, because no one ever had a reason to kill me. I was always the nice little girl that everyone liked. The man jerked me up, spear raised. I pushed my good hand against his naked chest, hoping, praying that he wouldn’t do it. He stood there, holding me by the throat, ready to strike. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke.
“Why do you remain silent?” He shuddered, tears streaming down his face. “Why do you-” he broke off, falling to his knees, bringing me with him. I grabbed the rod from his hand, holding it as far from him as possible. The black stuff became ecstatic, encircling me, trying different methods to get the pole. The man glanced at it, his eyes becoming very, very sad. He touched my face, gently stroking the tears away. I jumped slightly, not realizing I had been crying. Probably from fear, I thought fleetingly.
“Take me with you. When-” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. He closed his hand around mine that was holding the rod. I winced- that was my bloody hand. I hated metal and a blood. The man shuddered once, then slumped forward. I tossed the rod away, at the same time trying to keep him from crushing me. Unfortunately he proved to be too heavy. I let him drop to the ground, my breath coming fast. Millions of things were running through my mind. What could have happened, what I could have said, what I could have done. I was mostly puzzled why he insisted I was Atlanta, and someone he knew. I hadn’t meant to freak him out by not talking to him, it was just that… I had no idea what to say. Insisting that he loved me, assuming I was someone who loved him- I blew out my breath. These Fjif people were very strange. I gazed at his still form, something occurring to me that I hadn’t thought of before. Was this guy dying?
I jerked up when I felt a weird motion from him. The man groaned, shifting slightly. In a flash I was well away from him, practically hugging the canvas. I watched him sit up, and look around. Within moments he was vomiting that nasty, vulgar goop. What was really gross… as soon as he threw it up, it latched onto him, creating this black tar-like substance all over him. I grimaced, inching, if possible, further away. I felt horrible, seeing that stuff sliming all over him. I felt more than a little responsible, I mean, it was my fault he was like this.
I looked around, anxious to find something to help. There were a couple small desks, and a small dresser, and the FS bag sitting in the doorway. The bag seemed to be my best bet to help with anything. I stood and walked up to it, my foot tapping something metallic. I looked down, scowling instantly. It was that freaking stupid rod. I grabbed it, thinking of a million ways to obliterate it. If it weren’t for this pole, I wouldn’t be in this mess.
“Stupid, good for nothing-”
At that moment a ray of light burst from the rod. I sat there, listless of what to do. I couldn’t use magic. Even when I tried, nothing happened. I watched helplessly as the rod entrenched itself in the ground, fracturing slightly as it did so. In a few moments the room was washed in ethereal light. Was this some sort of magical weapon? I thought. Before I could figure anything out, another variety of luminosity crept from the rod. It seeped across the room, looking more like a glittering dust than light. I watched with slight puzzlement as it began to touch everything, as if it were sampling food. I watched it pause on the man. It seemed intrigued, exploring the black stuff pouring out of his mouth and latching onto his body. I sat there, my mind screaming at me to do something. I was torn between taking the rod as far from the guy as possible, or run up and peel the stuff off of him. There were two problems with these. First, I had no idea of where to go, and second, I had no idea what would happen if I let go of the rod. I didn’t want to risk the latter.
Mind somewhat made up, I tightened my grip on the rod, jerking it up, nearly falling over. I guess it wasn’t as firm as I thought, I mused. The light almost instantly took a different hue once off the ground. The sparkles that had been continually emitted were snuffed into darkness, the weird, first light wavering into obscurity. I was left in the dark, holding a very angry white glow stick, the poor guy still vomiting across the room. I have to do something! My mind screamed. I groped for the tent flap, using the rod as a flashlight. Quicker than I thought possible, I was outside.
“Melek!”
I screamed her name, running towards the last spot I had seen her. The deer were there, but she wasn’t. I circled around the meadow, finally climbing to the highest point possible. Dead trees down the slope, no Melek. I sat on the ground, clenching my fists tightly around the rod. Why couldn’t I find her? That guy was dying, this stupid stick glowing, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing. Tears slipped down my face, blurring the glowing rod. I felt so useless. Magic came so easily to my friends. Why wouldn’t it come to me? Why couldn’t I see it? I bitterly remembered Robin describing her magic as a sort of prism of energy, strands delicately laced together. Michael preferred not to talk about hers. I scowled and stood, wiping my runny nose. Crying would solve nothing. I searched my memory, painfully aware of the faint gagging sounds.
Again, thank you for what you wrote. I didn't realize that my character was so shallow XDXDXDXDXDXDXD
I'll work on that. Get into her head more, and try to fix those parts X(
^-^V
Alright first things first. I have to agree with Adam with one thing. You need to put your character's thoughts in italics or you'll be giving your reader (like me) a hard time trying to figure out what the text actually means. Now to some goblin house cleaning.
His eyes showed no pain, almost as if they were a completely separate being from the rest of his body.
It seemed like the real person was asleep.
“After all this time, you want me to just leave? Shame, shame Atlanta.â€
“What are you trying to do to me, Atlanta?†He murmured, his tightened grip betraying his anger. “I have always loved you. Why are you trying to destroy me?â€
That was really lame, I thought. In books they always spouted some beautiful poem or song.
“Take me with you. When-†He took a deep breath, shaking his head. He closed his hand around mine that was holding the rod. I winced- that was my bloody hand. I hated metal and a blood. The man shuddered once, then slumped forward. I tossed the rod away, at the same time trying to keep him from crushing me. Unfortunately he proved to be too heavy. I let him drop to the ground, my breath coming fast. Millions of things were running through my mind. What could have happened, what I could have said, what I could have done. I was mostly puzzled why he insisted I was Atlanta, and someone he knew. I hadn’t meant to freak him out by not talking to him, it was just that… I had no idea what to say. Insisting that he loved me, assuming I was someone who loved him- I blew out my breath. These Fjif people were very strange. I gazed at his still form, something occurring to me that I hadn’t thought of before. Was this guy dying?
THANK YOU!!!!!
I was having trouble with this part, and I couldn't figure out why. Thank you for telling me!!!!!!!!!!!! ***I^o^I***
I'll just work on that now ^-^V
SeraphTree wrote:This is the next part. ^-^v
“How sweet of you, Atlanta.”
A thread of confusion meandered into the b[s]l[/s]ank of my mind[s].[/s], Atlanta? Why had he called me that? This wasn’t making any sense. Things that didn’t make sense made me angry. I jerked out of his grasp, ignoring the ripping of my hair. Sitting there and doing nothing was not going to help the situation. I glanced around, refocusing my mind. I was trying to get the needle out of him, I remembered. I was starting to have second thoughts, though. Part of my mind was screaming to get [s]the flock[/s] out of there, find Melek and run[s],[/s]; but there was that part that was pestering me to stay. Well, I rationalized, no use leaving the job unfinished. Even though my job had taken quite a nasty turn. I leaned towards him and grabbed the needle, my fingers shaking. I winced when I felt it move around inside of him. That was gross. The man chuckled, leaning over to see my work.
“After all this time, you want me to just leave? Shame, shame Atlanta.”
Something in his words made me realize something. Whoever I was talking to was not the person sitting in front of me. I briefly wondered if he was an evil spirit or something. I looked up at him, seeing his pain when I moved the needle, but his eyes… it was hard to describe. His eyes showed no pain, almost as if they were a completely separate being from the rest of his body. It seemed like the real person was asleep. I shook these thoughts away. This is no time for observations, I thought irately. I jerked the needle violently, horrified that it was several inches long, and still inside of him. I closed my eyes, composing myself. That was really gross. Th[s]at[/s]e huge needle dripping with the oozing blackness was almost too much.
“Atlanta-” his voice was calm, his hand rested softly on my hair. I ignored him and pulled again, watching five more inches slide out. This was more like a pole than a needle, I thought exasperated. The black goop gathered itself and latched onto the end of the rod, making every noise to disgust me. I tried brushing it away, but to no avail. It would only squirm and jitter, desperate to cling on to the thin rod. I scowled, losing my patience and began smacking the stuff away. As soon as I touched it, there was a most inhuman sound- a metal splitting, ice cracking, freezing your skin off kind of sound.
I suddenly found myself inches from the creature’s eyes. Silence, except our shuddering breath and the black junk squelching around us.
“What are you trying to do to me, Atlanta?” He murmured, his tightened grip betraying his anger. “I have always loved you. Why are you trying to destroy me?”
“You shouldn’t do that to people.”
That was really lame, I thought. In books they always spouted some beautiful poem or song.
“Atlanta… you traitor!”
He flung me away. I crashed to the ground, the rod ripping across my hand. I hugged it to my chest, watching as he stood. He ripped the rod out of his side, breathing hard, the black goop creating a web around him. He looked at it for a moment, then glared at me.
“You know how much I have done for you.”
He advanced, lifting the spear. I scooted away, my stomach plummeting. He was going to kill me. Part of me didn’t understand, because no one ever had a reason to kill me. I was always the nice little girl that everyone liked. The man jerked me up, spear raised. I pushed my good hand against his naked chest, hoping, praying that he wouldn’t do it. He stood there, holding me by the throat, ready to strike. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke.
“Why do you remain silent?” He shuddered, tears streaming down his face. “Why do you-” he broke off, falling to his knees, bringing me with him. I grabbed the rod from his hand, holding it as far from him as possible. The black stuff became ecstatic, encircling me, trying different methods to get the pole. The man glanced at it, his eyes becoming very, very sad. He touched my face, gently stroking the tears away. I jumped slightly, not realizing I had been crying. Probably from fear, I thought fleetingly.
“Take me with you. When-” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. He closed his hand around mine that was holding the rod. I winced- that was my bloody hand. I hated metal and [s]a[/s] blood. The man shuddered once, then slumped forward. I tossed the rod away, at the same time trying to keep him from crushing me. Unfortunately he proved to be too heavy. I let him drop to the ground, my breath coming fast. Millions of things were running through my mind. What could have happened, what I could have said, what I could have done. I was mostly puzzled why he insisted I was Atlanta, and someone he knew. I hadn’t meant to freak him out by not talking to him, it was just that… I had no idea what to say. Insisting that he loved me, assuming I was someone who loved him- I blew out my breath. These Fjif people were very strange. I gazed at his still form, something occurring to me that I hadn’t thought of before. Was this guy dying?
I jerked up when I felt a weird motion from him. The man groaned, shifting slightly. In a flash I was well away from him, practically hugging the canvas. I watched him sit up, and look around. Within moments he was vomiting that nasty, vulgar goop. What was really gross… as soon as he threw it up, it latched onto him, creating this black tar-like substance all over him. I grimaced, inching, if possible, further away. I felt horrible, seeing that stuff sliming all over him. I felt more than a little responsible, I mean, it was my fault he was like this.
I looked around, anxious to find something to help. There were a couple small desks, and a small dresser, and the FS bag sitting in the doorway. The bag seemed to be my best bet to help with anything. I stood and walked up to it, my foot tapping something metallic. I looked down, scowling instantly. It was that freaking stupid rod. I grabbed it, thinking of a million ways to obliterate it. If it weren’t for this pole, I wouldn’t be in this mess.
“Stupid, good for nothing-”
At that moment a ray of light burst from the rod. I sat there, listless of what to do. I couldn’t use magic. Even when I tried, nothing happened. I watched helplessly as the rod entrenched itself in the ground, fracturing slightly as it did so. In a few moments the room was washed in ethereal light. Was this some sort of magical weapon? I thought. Before I could figure anything out, another variety of luminosity crept from the rod. It seeped across the room, looking more like a glittering dust than light. I watched with slight puzzlement as it began to touch everything, as if it were sampling food. I watched it pause on the man. It seemed intrigued, exploring the black stuff pouring out of his mouth and latching onto his body. I sat there, my mind screaming at me to do something. I was torn between taking the rod as far from the guy as possible, or running up and peeling the stuff off of him. There were two problems with these. First, I had no idea of where to go, and second, I had no idea what would happen if I let go of the rod. I didn’t want to risk the latter.
Mind somewhat made up, I tightened my grip on the rod, jerking it up, nearly falling over. I guess it wasn’t as firm as I thought, I mused. The light almost instantly took a different hue once off the ground. The sparkles that had been continually emitted were snuffed into darkness, the weird, first light wavering into obscurity. I was left in the dark, holding a very angry white glow stick, the poor guy still vomiting across the room. I have to do something! My mind screamed. I groped for the tent flap, using the rod as a flashlight. Quicker than I thought possible, I was outside.
“Melek!”
I screamed her name, running towards the last spot I had seen her. The deer were there, but she wasn’t. I circled around the meadow, finally climbing to the highest point possible. Dead trees down the slope, no Melek. I sat on the ground, clenching my fists tightly around the rod. Why couldn’t I find her? That guy was dying, this stupid stick glowing, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing. Tears slipped down my face, blurring the glowing rod. I felt so useless. Magic came so easily to my friends. Why wouldn’t it come to me? Why couldn’t I see it? I bitterly remembered Robin describing her magic as a sort of prism of energy, strands delicately laced together. Michael preferred not to talk about hers. I scowled and stood, wiping my runny nose. Crying would solve nothing. I searched my memory, painfully aware of the faint gagging sounds.
his tightened grip betraying his anger
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