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Young Writers Society



LMS: Perfect Machine 2

by regismare


Einar Grimm was a man accustomed to getting his way.

Regardless of the circumstances, whether he had to cheat like a bastard or fight with tooth and claw like a dog, he and his will would always emerge victorious.

He could not be blamed, therefore, for trying to persuade himself that he was still in control of his current predicament. He hung by one arm thousands of feet above the city of Fjordheim, his right arm clasped firmly in the bronze talons of a perfect clockwork flying machine, piloted by an arrogant noblegirl who was somehow able to perform magic as powerful as his. His nose was still streaming blood, courtesy of the palace's marble floors, and his ribs were throbbing with fresh bruises. Einar was unable to persuade himself that he was still the one in control.

And it terrified him. His mind reeled and his blood shuddered in his veins as he hung from the dragon's single paw. Every muscle was strung tight. The last time he had felt such heavy things, he had been beaten and dumped in a canal, saved only by a snake of an information broker. Einar clung to the machine more tightly, locking his other arm around it as if he intended to strangle it, All he could feel was unfamiliar, animalistic flushes of panic that warmed his whole body and the gentle rocking of the dragon as it flew.

Silence hung with them in the air as the dragon slid, serpent-like and silent, through the night. The city coiled below them like a crumpled map of stars nestled between harsh mountains. The palace that sat like a crown halfway up on the face of the North Peak had long since faded into the mists. Factories belched poison into the air so far below, spewing billows of black smoke, and the clouds pressed down from above with their freezing darkness. Without the great twirling Northern Lights that flowed somewhere too high and too cold for them that night, the only light was the hazy, garish glow filtering up from oil lamps and log fires.

Each of the dragon's wingbeats sent ripples of pain through his fragile, battered body. If he craned his neck in just the right painful way and squinted up into the foggy darkness of the night, then he could make out the faint coppery shape of the machine. Its wingtips dipped through the mist every so often, more steady and reliable than his own heart in their beating. Its legs were tucked up against its flanks and, with every heave of its wings, it puffed belches of smoke from its glowing nostrils. Its streamlined back was half-shrouded with the polar night as it soared, its smooth spine-line broken only by the young royal crouched over its neck, guiding it through the darkness with a grim, thin-set expression. She hadn't spoken since they'd fled the palace - and she'd, for some unthinkable reason, taken him with her.

And she had snatched his dragon from him. She worked the delicate controls on its neck and shifted her weight on its back to guide its delicate machinery through the skies as if it had been her father who'd sacrificed his life to building a perfect machine, as if she was the one who'd stayed up all through the dark to memorise its notes. Fear boiled and billowed into something more raw and impulsive, like the rage of a circus tiger let out of his cage.

He had waited eight years for this day. He had memorised every scrap of writing he could find on the clockwork dragon. He had crept into the royal palace after climbing the North Peak, and slain the guards that lay in wait. He had risked his life for his father's machine - no, his machine - and he wasn't going to let a spoilt brat with a false sense of righteousness take what belonged to him.

Einar's lips curled up into something reminiscent of a feral snarl - something he'd learnt off of fellow slumdwellers and their fighting dogs - and he shouted a string of words into the wind. They were smothered like snow dampening a forest, but their effect was immediate. His magic loosened the dragon's grip around his arm and allowed him to twist like a desperate rat scrabbling for his life.

He grabbed onto the brat's leg and pulled himself up with a grunt, swinging his legs over the dragon's back and steadying himself as the dragon shifted to stabilise their weights, as his father had designed it to. The brat turned to stare at him, her mouth forming into an imperfect expression of shock with her pupils dilating and her eyebrows arching as she turned - stupid! - and unbalanced the dragon's weight yet again.

"Hey, thief, what -"

"Goodbye, your highness..."

Einar was going what he had to do - experiences bitter as arsenic had taught him how important it was to do what he had to. He cut her off with a huge shove to the small of her back, a shove so large it jarred his shoulder blades and made his ribs hurt worse, his mouth dead-set and determined. Guilt dripped in the darkest, most human parts of him, the parts he hated most, as she was thrown backwards off of the dragon's neck. He tried his best to ignore it.

She grabbed his wrist and tugged hard as she muttered something, her mouth forming desperate sentences as they both lunged forwards. Her magic did nothing to change their falling. Einar yelped with surprise as he was dragged forwards and reminded of every ache in his body, sliding effortlessly over the flawless metal of the dragon's back. Just as they were about to tumble all the way back down to Fjordheim's industrial centre, the row of factories along the riverside, the machine banked sharply, rolling to the right and catching them in the dip in its neck - just where his father had designed the riders to sit.

She clung to the dragon's horns, her scrawny chest moving like a prisoner about to be executed. And, in a way, she was. Einar growled - another trick he'd picked up from slumdwellers and fighting dogs - and threw a punch at her face. She ducked and flattened herself to the right, throwing the dragon into a steep rightwards bank that soon became a dive.

"Hey!" she screamed, going ridgid against the dragon's spine, "hey, you Goddamned thief, what do you think -"

"I know how to fly the thing! Let me fly it!" Einar shouted back, his voice strained and on the brink of pleading. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"No! You're just going to try to kill me!"

"Oh, my God! Do you want both of us to die?!" Einar hollered again, before pushing her aside in an effort to get to the main controls on its neck, the controls his magic wouldn't reach. She didn't retaliate this time, and let him stretch himself over the falling dragon like a cat.

Her eyes were wide and fearful. He couldn't blame her.

Pounding terror rushed in his ears as he fumbled with the switch that controlled the dragon's wings. The dragon began to spin as it stooped and it, drawing its wings out in like a peregrine stooping out of its dive. Fjordheim's lights got closer, closer, closer, before the machine fully eased its wings out to stop the fall.

By then, it was too late.


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Sat Mar 04, 2017 11:47 pm
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EternalRain wrote a review...



Hey, regismare!

You've already got 4 lovely reviews on this but I thought I'd pop in anyway, because I wanted to read and review chapter 3 too. <3

So, to start off:

Guilt dripped in the darkest, most human parts of him, the parts he hated most, as she was thrown backwards off of the dragon's neck. He tried his best to ignore it.


I love this line. It shows that yes, he is human, despite the fact all the bad things he's doing/done. It's beautifully crafted, too!

What happened at the end??? Oh my gosh. I'm so ready to read on to the next chapter. Speaking of the ending, this line in the last paragraph just seemed a bit confusing to me:

The dragon began to spin as it stooped and it, drawing its wings out in like a peregrine stooping out of its dive.


I think I get what you're trying to convey but the wording is super awkward.

Also, since Einar appears to be in a life and death situation, I would think he would be trying everything he can to get out of it (with the dragon). Since he has magic, maybe even having him trying to use his magic (whether he can or not/has enough energy to or not) would squeeze in an extra pinch of realism!

I really think that's all I have with this chapter! I'm in so much love with this plot.

~EternalRain




regismare says...


Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you like it so far <3 My excuse for the slip-ups and weird sentences is that I rushed this a few hours before the LMS deadline at about 11 at night. So, yeah :p



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Sat Mar 04, 2017 8:43 pm
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OliveDreams wrote a review...



Back for week 2 :)

Im a little surprised that Einar is more manly than I thought he was in chapter 1! Is it me or does he come across as more of a child in the first part?

I like that you’re bringing out his arrogance. Its making me like & dislike him all in one go. We all love a character that we love to hate.

The fact that you’ve held back in letting the reader know anymore about the girl yet. It’s a clever way to keep me intrigued to know what she's up to. She’s mysterious and I like that.

I’m also shocked that he feels any guilt about pulling her off the dragon! He was fully intended to kill her in the last chapter without an inch of guilt. I like this different side to him though. It shows that he has a few more layers than it first seems.

I’m not finding much fault so far!

Favourite Line;

Factories belched poison into the air so far below, spewing billows of black smoke, and the clouds pressed down from above with their freezing darkness.


Olive <3




regismare says...


Thank you for reviewing! Your first comment about Einar made me laugh xD I really agree. He acts tougher than he actually is around other people, and he was really affected by actually seeing the dragon in the first part, but I probably need to make it more clear : )



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Sun Feb 26, 2017 1:29 am
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Feltrix wrote a review...



Hello! Feltrix reviewing!

I'm writing suggestions as I read, so there will be no order to this.

I'm not sure 'noblegirl' is a term.

"He hung by one arm thousands of feet above the city of Fjordheim, his right arm clasped firmly in the bronze talons of a perfect clockwork flying machine, piloted by an arrogant noblegirl who was somehow able to perform magic as powerful as his." That's a lot of information for one sentence. I'd break this up somehow.

"Factories belched poison into the air so far below, spewing billows of black smoke, and the clouds pressed down from above with their freezing darkness." That's pretty close to being exactly the same as the description in Perfect Machine 1. I think the description is necessary, but the wording should be changed. A thesaurus would be helpful here.

" his blood shuddered " What's happening here? Because blood shuddering sounds (to me) like Einar's having a heart attack, which I don't think he is.

Up until now, I've assumed that Einar was hanging on to the dragon, trying not to fall off, but now it seems more like the dragon is carrying him. I'd make that more clear.

"He had memorised..." memoriZed. With a z.

"...her mouth forming into an imperfect expression of shock..." 'imperfect' seems like an odd choice of wording here. How is it imperfect? Why does it's imperfection deserve mentioning? I'd just use a less broad adjective.

"Einar was going what he had to do..." Doing, not going.

"to do what he had to" This seems repetitive. I wouldn't use 'do what you have to do' or any variation of it so close together.

"...her scrawny chest moving like a prisoner about to be executed." I have no idea what this analogy means. I can see that you want to make that comparison, but I just don't understand it the way it is.

"hey," Capital H.

"Pounding terror rushed in his ears..." I know what you're trying to say, but it needs different wording.

I was very excited to find the sequel to the Perfect Machine, and this did not disappoint. Sorry for micromanaging your spelling and analogies; I'm like a spellcheck that works. I love your writing style, with all the lovely descriptions, and, of course, the steampunk world. And dragons. I like dragons.




regismare says...


I like dragons too :p thank you for reviewing! It's the issue with my clarity again - and I totally agree with all of your points. Your micromanaging spellings and analogies is appreciated.



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Sun Feb 26, 2017 1:26 am
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CrimsonQuill wrote a review...



Hi, regismare! It's Crimson here, for a review.

Initial disclaimer: I can come off a little harsh sometimes, but I promise I don't mean anything by it. I'm merely trying to help you improve -- I love a lot about this piece, and I have a special place in my heart for steampunk. Even so, I want to help you as much as I can, so just try to remember that as I get a little too nitpicky.

He hung by one arm thousands of feet above the city of Fjordheim, his right arm clasped firmly in the bronze talons of a perfect clockwork flying machine, piloted by an arrogant noblegirl who was somehow able to perform magic as powerful as his.

"Noblegirl" is an unusual term. Perhaps it suits your purposes, and if so then awesome! But I have a strong feeling you might be able to find a better word; as it is it's just unusual enough and out of place here. (Especially with the Norse names you begin with here, which are typically not generally thought of as having 'nobles,' regardless of whether that is actually historically accurate or not.) I'd suggesting using the more common 'noblewoman,' or 'young noblewoman,' or a different word entirely.

Additionally, it doesn't really work to use a phrase like 'as powerful as {x}' when we don't know how powerful that person is. All we know is he's the fellow we're concerned with at the moment. He could be as powerful as a gnat as far as we know. Being a little more descriptive of it can help here, but otherwise avoiding the direct comparison might be simpler.

His nose was still streaming blood, courtesy of the palace's marble floors, and his ribs were throbbing with fresh bruises. Einar was unable to persuade himself that he was still the one in control.

While in terms of visual images this is great, I'd definitely recommend adding some more emotion and sensation here. We know his nose is bleeding, but typically if his nose has been smashed against the floor he'd be feeling an awful lot of pain as well -- and yet that appears to have been passed over here.

Additionally, mentioning the actual pain of the bruises on the ribs can be a lot more effective than just mentioning the bruises throbbing. For example, 'his ribs were on fire, throbbing with fresh bruises.' More of a technicality, but typically you don't notice bruises in the middle of a fight; they take time to develop. What you'll most often notice is tenderness, stinging, throbbing (as you mention), but generally the bruises don't develop until some minutes after the injury has been inflicted, as blood flows to the affected area and healing begins.

Last point before I move on: there was clearly a fair bit of fighting before the reader is introduced to the world. While it can be effective at times, this isn't an easy introduction to make. I haven't read far enough to say whether it is effective here yet, but a word of caution -- if you find yourself doing this too often, you may need to work on your introductory sequences a bit. It cheapens the fight and its meaning if half of it is thrown in right off the bat without even taking the reader through the actual sequence of the fight. This intro here feels like it's halfway between an aftermath and the middle of a fight, and it seems a little disjointed because of that. Not saying it's not going to work out, but just something to keep in mind.

And it terrified him.

While I like what you're going for, beginning a paragraph with this is very disjointed. You can get away with beginning a new sentence with 'and,' but a whole paragraph is very strange. Perhaps a more complete joiner, like 'This realisation terrified him.'

His mind reeled and his blood shuddered in his veins as he hung from the dragon's single paw.

It's not necessary, but a comma after 'reeled' helps this sentence flow more smoothly.

The last time he had felt such heavy things, he had been beaten and dumped in a canal, saved only by a snake of an information broker.

Try to avoid cheap words like 'things.' It can look very lazy, and it's confusing. Be specific. If it's something you haven't shown us yet, then use a more specific word, like 'injuries' or 'pressure.' Alternatively, introduce what the 'things' are better before this sentence, and use the appropriate word(s) to refer to them.

The city coiled below them like a crumpled map of stars nestled between harsh mountains.

I love this imagery. That's all.

Factories belched poison into the air so far below, spewing billows of black smoke, and the clouds pressed down from above with their freezing darkness. Without the great twirling Northern Lights that flowed somewhere too high and too cold for them that night, the only light was the hazy, garish glow filtering up from oil lamps and log fires.

Again, wonderful imagery. I would suggesting tying in the poison to the black smoke more concretely, and combining those descriptors. Something like 'Factories belched thick billows of poisonous black smoke from far below' would make it more compelling, I feel, and changing the 'so far below' to 'from far below' mirrors the next part about clouds pressing down from above -- giving it a stronger sense of 'trapping' our protagonist here with his enemy.

If he craned his neck in just the right painful way and squinted up into the foggy darkness of the night, then he could make out the faint coppery shape of the machine.

I'd recommend cutting out the 'then' following the comma. It breaks the flow a bit too much.

She hadn't spoken since they'd fled the palace - and she'd, for some unthinkable reason, taken him with her.

It's a minor thing, but 'unthinkable' carries a faint implication that he knows why she's bringing him along and just doesn't like the idea. I got the impression he didn't in fact know; if that's the case, 'unknown' or 'unknowable' works better.

And she had snatched his dragon from him.

Wait, what? This is thrown in here without any prior mention. Sure, he's in the middle of a fight earlier (or post-fight? It's not 100% clear...) but even then, you'd expect at least a passing mention before this that this machination is his property.

She worked the delicate controls on its neck and shifted her weight on its back to guide its delicate machinery through the skies as if it had been her father who'd sacrificed his life to building a perfect machine, as if she was the one who'd stayed up all through the dark to memorise its notes. Fear boiled and billowed into something more raw and impulsive, like the rage of a circus tiger let out of his cage.

The definition of perfect generally implies that it's one-of-a-kind. As such, unless these perfect machines are really common, I'd recommend using 'this' instead of 'a'.

He had waited eight years for this day. He had memorised every scrap of writing he could find on the clockwork dragon. He had crept into the royal palace after climbing the North Peak, and slain the guards that lay in wait. He had risked his life for his father's machine - no, his machine - and he wasn't going to let a spoilt brat with a false sense of righteousness take what belonged to him.

There're too many sentences here beginning with 'he had...' Change it up, or combine some of the sentences. (e.g., 'He had waited eight years for this day, memorising every scrap of writing...')

Einar's lips curled up into something reminiscent of a feral snarl - something he'd learnt off of fellow slumdwellers and their fighting dogs - and he shouted a string of words into the wind.

I can understand not wanting to construct your own language for the magic they use, or specifically mention the words in every spell. However, this seems like a severe lack of effort for something that promises to be somewhat central to the story here. At the very least, mention the language or dialect they're using, or have some generalistic description of the sound of the incantation. Otherwise, we're left with the faint impression that the incantation is somewhat unnecessary or irrelevant.

Einar was going what he had to do - experiences bitter as arsenic had taught him how important it was to do what he had to.

First of all, 'was going to do what he had to' was probably what you meant in the first part. Secondly, try to avoid that repetition. It's okay and sometimes great to make deliberate repetition of important words or phrases, but a string of short, unimportant words like that is more than enough even once. Twice in the same sentence is very strange and almost difficult to read.

He cut her off with a huge shove to the small of her back, a shove so large it jarred his shoulder blades and made his ribs hurt worse, his mouth dead-set and determined.

'large' is probably the wrong adjective here. Try 'powerful' or 'strong' instead. Shoves don't really have sizes, so to speak. Also, instead of just mentioning that it worsened the condition of his ribs, actually tell us what it felt like instead. 'Sent a jolt of pain across the developing bruises on his ribcage' is far more emotive than 'his ribs hurt worse.' You can say it however you want, in the end, but being more based in feeling allows the reader to get a better sense of the character and the actual extent of the damage.

Guilt dripped in the darkest, most human parts of him, the parts he hated most, as she was thrown backwards off of the dragon's neck. He tried his best to ignore it.

Too many commas for a sentence. Split the sentence up, or rewrite it so that the commas aren't necessary. Liking the imagery of the guilt, though; spot on!

However, you mention that she was turned away from him when he shoved her. Combine that with a shove to the small of the back, and she isn't going to be facing him, falling backwards. She's going to be falling head-first off the dragon. Try to be consistent in where characters are and what their movement is; that's one of the most important things in a violent scene, as it dictates just about everything else about the scene.

She grabbed his wrist and tugged hard as she muttered something, her mouth forming desperate sentences as they both lunged forwards. Her magic did nothing to change their falling.
Brief physics lesson: if Einar has shoved her at all (let alone hard enough to hurt himself in the process), this gal isn't going to need to do any tugging. If she can grab his wrist before she's clear of him, the force he applied will also apply to him and drag them both. Additionally, you mention that she's thrown off the dragon before she can even grab his wrist. Either this needs to be mentioned before you state she's shoved off, or in the same sentence. As it is, it sounds like she's in two places at once. If that is in fact what you intended, work on the execution; it's not clear enough.

Just as they were about to tumble all the way back down to Fjordheim's industrial centre, the row of factories along the riverside, the machine banked sharply, rolling to the right and catching them in the dip in its neck - just where his father had designed the riders to sit.

If this thing is like any dragon I've ever heard of, its anatomy doesn't make this possible with a simple banking manoeuvre. They are described as falling 'backwards off the dragon's neck' (well, she is), but unless he pushed her directly towards the back of the dragon anyway (in which case she was never in any danger), the dragon would have to yaw in order to actually catch her... and most flying machines suck at yaw maoeuvres. If that's not telling you anything, it's basically what happens when you want to spin horizontally in the air, leaving the wings pretty much horizontal, and turning around like you would in a car. Incidentally, yawing is not a safe way to turn any aircraft. It messes up the flow of air over the wings, often causing the aircraft to lose lift very quickly and plummet downwards. That depends entirely on the cross-sectional shape and fucntion of the wings, however, so something that has to flap to maintain its height will probably be less affected. Anyway! Point is, this thing isn't going to catch them with an easy banking move.

"Hey!" she screamed, going ridgid against the dragon's spine, "hey, you Goddamned thief, what do you think -"

Only one 'd' in 'rigid' here. Also, direct quotations like this always start with a capital, even when you're continuing from a previous quotation and the last punctuation is a comma; capitalise the second 'Hey' as well. Doubly so when the previous ends with a sentence-terminating punctuation mark (period, question mark, exclamation mark).

"I know how to fly the thing! Let me fly it!" Einar shouted back, his voice strained and on the brink of pleading. "You don't know what you're doing!"

Either he's just freaking out in general, or there's something else you need to mention. Sure, the dragon went into a steep dive, but they're basically wrestling with the controls, right? At what point have we seen that this lady can't easily put this thing flying gently again, like she had it before? At the very least, I think you need to mention that she is trying (and obviously failing) to correct its flight pattern before Einar's outburst here.

"Oh, my God! Do you want both of us to die?!" Einar hollered again, before pushing her aside in an effort to get to the main controls on its neck, the controls his magic wouldn't reach. She didn't retaliate this time, and let him stretch himself over the falling dragon like a cat.

I feel as though the bit about his magic 'not reaching' was something thrown in after someone asked "But why doesn't he just operate it by magic anyway?" We haven't really had any of the magical rules of this world explicitly established yet. You either need to elaborate on why this is the case, or you need to find another reason he didn't use magic -- the pain made it difficult to concentrate on the incantation or the fine control you need over the dragon's controls or something like that. And make it clearly stated, not a throwaway small portion of a sentence.

The dragon began to spin as it stooped and it, drawing its wings out in like a peregrine stooping out of its dive. Fjordheim's lights got closer, closer, closer, before the machine fully eased its wings out to stop the fall.

It's really not clear what's going on here, unfortunately. Check over the first sentence here and try to explain this part a little better.

Overall, I loved this piece. I could clearly see the little of the world we're given, and you capture the atmosphere quite well. Your main weaknesses seem to be addressing what the character is feeling instead of just what's happening to him, and there are some small holes in the physics of the fight here.

That's not too much to fix, really, just make sure that whenever you have an action- or violence-heavy scene that you take pains to ensure that the physical placement and movement of the characters is consistent. If they change directions, you need to mention it (unless the character you're 'spectating', for lack of a better word, doesn't notice for a specific reason, and even then once they notice you need to include the information that had been missing). You as the author need to know where the characters are at every point in the scene, so that you can avoid confusing the reader.

I loved reading this, and I'd love to see some more from you!

Cheers,

Crimson.




regismare says...


Your review wasn't harsh at all! It was so helpful - you pointed out so many things : ) It's going to be great to edit this, when I finally do. Thank you for your help and compliments :3



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inktopus wrote a review...



Hi, regismare! It's Storm here (yet again) to do a review. I'm interested to see how you've expanded this, so let's jump right into it!

He hung by one arm thousands of feet above the city of Fjordheim, his right arm clasped firmly in the bronze talons of a perfect clockwork flying machine,

There isn't really a sense of urgency here. Einar is hanging thousands of feet in the air, but I'm not really all that worried about him. You have to insert a sense of urgency and immediacy into your writing, otherwise moments like this aren't going to have the impact that they need to have.

All he could feel was unfamiliar, animalistic flushes of panic that warmed his whole body and the gentle rocking of the dragon as it flew.

Your word choice here is ineffective. I've always thought of warmth as a comfortable feeling. When has panic ever been comfortable? Using a word like inflamed or even just heated makes the statement more powerful.

Einar's lips curled up into something reminiscent of a feral snarl - something he'd learnt off of fellow slumdwellers and their fighting dogs - and he shouted a string of words into the wind.

I just want to say that I really enjoyed this line. It was a great way to let the reader know what Einar has been doing before the story began.

By then, it was too late.

Now, this is how you do a cliffhanger. Wow, good stuff.

Overall, this was pretty good. I found a few grammatical errors so you may want to look this over when/if you edit. I feel like l have said everything that needed to be said already, so I guess I'm done. I think that this is an improvement from your first chapter. If you have any questions feel free to ask me in a pm or in a reply.

~Storm




regismare says...


Thank you for reviewing! I didn't write this chapter at 2am after doing multiple essays, so that might have something to do with the improvement xD On a serious note, all of your points are extremely helpful and they give me loads to work on! So, thanks : )




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