Title is essentially the current name for the first chapter, this is what I have so far, I have some great ideas, but I would like feedback about this beforehand. Critique please? :3
A Chance Encounter
Knock, knock, knock. The piercing rap echoes through the tiny house like a hot knife through butter. Begrudgingly, I turn to the alarm clock. Six A.M. “Who in their right mind would be bothering ME at six in the morning?” I roll out of bed and try to yawn the sleepiness away to no avail. “Long nights on the town are not exactly wise for most important man in Steampoint.”I think to myself as I trudge across the hardwood floors. I glanced out the large bay windows as I passed, I glanced out into our smog covered world. Members of Steampoint knew nothing but Steampoint, The world outside of here was unfit for humans, and was too dangerous to journey into. Millions of dollars a year were spent on the barrier around our city, on guards, on hospital bills and life insurance to the families of the eviscerated soldiers. I knew all of this, because my job is to know all of this. I’m the leader of this poor city.
Knock, knock. The same determined sound at my front door. More than likely a child looking to sell me a newspaper, or a mother looking for bread money. Its not that I mind, I love helping people, but not this bloody early in the morning. I threw on that same politician smile as always, and approached the door. As I opened the door, it was pulled open hard. The butt of a M16 hammers me hard in the nose, and I feel crimson warmth flood down my face. I drop to my knees out of shock and look up to see Frank Greetz grinning his rat toothed grin at me. Greetz. I think I went to high school with this prick. He was probably the kid that was always being thrown in trash cans. He was that kid that deserved it, and now that he was all grown up and had found a new sense of power and self worth, he liked to show it, often.
“Oi.” He spat down at me, he always spat when he spoke.
“As charming as ever.” I retorted as I attempted to stop the blood flow from my nose. One of his lackeys was cleaning the butt of his gun, but held it up again as I spoke. I stopped speaking. “King wishes to see you.” I stood up slowly and I said through gritted teeth “Mind letting me clean up first?” “Yes, Mr. Mayor, I do mind. Get in the car.” I spat on his shoes and earned another smack to the nose, hearing cracked cartilage this time, I thought it best to keep my mouth shut, so I did. I was herded out onto the street, and I surveyed the area. Same old Steampoint. People stalked the streets, looking straight down. People didn’t like to look each other in the eye here, you simply did not know who was working for King, did not know what they would charge you for looking at them funny. It was better safe than sorry.
This city was scared of its shadow, and I quite literally mean that. I looked up at the large floating castle hovering above Steampoint, casting a dismal shadow over the entire town, blocking out our view of the sun for the greater portion of the day. When I was a child, I remember standing with a group of friends on top of the clock tower, and watching, for the brief moments where we could see sun, and being awestruck. To us, the sun gave hope. It told us that maybe there was something out there, something that could save us.
Still slightly concerned with my broken nose, I looked over at one of his lackeys “Hey chief, your boss is ‘gonna fix this, yeah?” The large man chuckled a deep empty laugh and reached over towards me, silhouetting my body with his hand. “Huhuh…no but I will fix for you, Mr. Mayor.” He grabbed my nose roughly as I tried to pull away and quickly snapped it one way and back, then held it firmly in place and pulled forward. I groaned in extreme agony as the cartilage realigned itself. I stared him in the eyes, not giving him the benefit of knowing that I was intimidated, doubt I did a fairly good job, though; It hurt. As soon as we arranged ourselves (moderately) comfortably in the cramped car, I heard the engine roar to life and the turbines start to growl under us. We soon left the ground, the city growing smaller below us. I never liked flying, couldn’t stand it. Even the tiny flights I made to meet with King every few months were horrible to me. I kept my eyes fixed on our destination. King called this The Cathedral. I had no idea why, given that Kings lived in castles, not cathedrals, but I knew not to argue with King. We all knew not to argue with King.
As we reached the docking platform, I was shoved out of the car, and the car quickly disappeared back to the street. I gazed around at the large steel platform, totally alone. I stood still for a moment and surveyed the painfully familiar territory. The obscenely large building hovered in the sky over Steampoint like a second moon, held up by colossal turbines on each of the four corners. I slowly started to walk towards the entrance, a rough mahogany door, I rapped on it twice with the lion’s head knocker and the door opened by two small men on each side, straining to pull the doors apart. King had a strong flair for the dramatic. As I entered the room, the same strange feeling came over me; A feeling of warmth and safety. It always confused me, in the face of my greatest enemy, I felt safest. I ducked my head and said halfheartedly “Hail..”.
He sat on a throne made of solid gold, with obsidian veins running through it. His fierce expression never changed from anything extremely terrifying. This man exuded anger. He twisted a large scepter in his right hand. I assumed that this scepter was the source of his enormous power. His horrifying, supernatural powers that caused some members of Steampoint to view him as God “Good to see you know your place, Chris” The fact that he used my given name infuriated me to no end. The only person who had called me that had been my mother.
My mother; the rebel, the fighter, the idealist, the now deceased. King took her life when I was seven. He made an example of her in public, as I watched. I bit into my lip hard as he spoke, knowing to keep my mouth shut, for the people. Anything I said, they were punished for. “Yes, King. What did you need me for, sir?” I spat out the words like it was something disgusting. King grinned his self-fulfilled grin and started to speak “We are going to be closing a large number of the food production facilities in the city to make room for new weapon research plants.” I grinded my teeth “Yes, King.” “ We will be demolishing multiple buildings around town to make room for new statues of my likeness. The people seem to forget who their ruler is.” I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear him limb from limb. “Yes, King.” “We will be demolishing the Sunnybrooke Oraphanage to make room for a new office for Mr. Greetz and his Collectors.” “Yes, King.” He seemed finished, I turned to leave. “Oh,and Chris? Don’t let the residents know we’re demolishing it. With the lessening of the amount of food produced, we need to clear out a few of the less useful members of this society.” I stopped dead in my tracks and looked down, I couldn’t say anything to him, if I did, they would die. But if I didn’t… they would die. I stared down, that’s all I could bring myself to do, was just simply stare at the floor and take it “Yes, King.”.
Title is essentially the current name for the first chapter, this is what I have so far, I have some great ideas, but I would like feedback about this beforehand. Critique please? :3
A Chance Encounter
Knock, knock, knock. The piercing rap echoes through the tiny house like a hot knife through butter. Begrudgingly, I turn to the alarm clock. Six A.M. “Who in their right mind would be bothering ME at six in the morning?” I roll out of bed and try to yawn the sleepiness away to no avail. “Long nights on the town are not exactly wise for most important man in Steampoint.”I think to myself as I trudge across the hardwood floors. I glanced out the large bay windows as I passed, I glanced out into our smog covered world. Members of Steampoint knew nothing but Steampoint, The world outside of here was unfit for humans, and was too dangerous to journey into. Millions of dollars a year were spent on the barrier around our city, on guards, on hospital bills and life insurance to the families of the eviscerated soldiers. I knew all of this, because my job is to know all of this. I’m the leader of this poor city.
Knock, knock. The same determined sound at my front door. More than likely a child looking to sell me a newspaper, or a mother looking for bread money. Its not that I mind, I love helping people, but not this bloody early in the morning. I threw on that same politician smile as always, and approached the door. As I opened the door, it was pulled open hard. The butt of a M16 hammers me hard in the nose, and I feel crimson warmth flood down my face. I drop to my knees out of shock and look up to see Frank Greetz grinning his rat toothed grin at me. Greetz. I think I went to high school with this prick. He was probably the kid that was always being thrown in trash cans. He was that kid that deserved it, and now that he was all grown up and had found a new sense of power and self worth, he liked to show it, often.
“Oi.” He spat down at me, he always spat when he spoke. “As charming as ever.” I retorted as I attempted to stop the blood flow from my nose. One of his lackeys was cleaning the butt of his gun, but held it up again as I spoke. I stopped speaking. “King wishes to see you.” I stood up slowly and I said through gritted teeth “Mind letting me clean up first?” “Yes, Mr. Mayor, I do mind. Get in the car.” I spat on his shoes and earned another smack to the nose, hearing cracked cartilage this time, I thought it best to keep my mouth shut, so I did. I was herded out onto the street, and I surveyed the area. Same old Steampoint. People stalked the streets, looking straight down. People didn’t like to look each other in the eye here, you simply did not know who was working for King, did not know what they would charge you for looking at them funny. It was better safe than sorry.
This city was scared of its shadow, and I quite literally mean that. I looked up at the large floating castle hovering above Steampoint, casting a dismal shadow over the entire town, blocking out our view of the sun for the greater portion of the day. When I was a child, I remember standing with a group of friends on top of the clock tower, and watching, for the brief moments where we could see sun, and being awestruck. To us, the sun gave hope. It told us that maybe there was something out there, something that could save us.
Still slightly concerned with my broken nose, I looked over at one of his lackeys “Hey chief, your boss is ‘gonna fix this, yeah?” The large man chuckled a deep empty laugh and reached over towards me, silhouetting my body with his hand. “Huhuh…no but I will fix for you, Mr. Mayor.” He grabbed my nose roughly as I tried to pull away and quickly snapped it one way and back, then held it firmly in place and pulled forward. I groaned in extreme agony as the cartilage realigned itself. I stared him in the eyes, not giving him the benefit of knowing that I was intimidated, doubt I did a fairly good job, though; It hurt. As soon as we arranged ourselves (moderately) comfortably in the cramped car, I heard the engine roar to life and the turbines start to growl under us. We soon left the ground, the city growing smaller below us. I never liked flying, couldn’t stand it. Even the tiny flights I made to meet with King every few months were horrible to me. I kept my eyes fixed on our destination. King called this The Cathedral. I had no idea why, given that Kings lived in castles, not cathedrals, but I knew not to argue with King. We all knew not to argue with King.
As we reached the docking platform, I was shoved out of the car, and the car quickly disappeared back to the street. I gazed around at the large steel platform, totally alone. I stood still for a moment and surveyed the painfully familiar territory. The obscenely large building hovered in the sky over Steampoint like a second moon, held up by colossal turbines on each of the four corners. I slowly started to walk towards the entrance, a rough mahogany door, I rapped on it twice with the lion’s head knocker and the door opened by two small men on each side, straining to pull the doors apart. King had a strong flair for the dramatic. As I entered the room, the same strange feeling came over me; A feeling of warmth and safety. It always confused me, in the face of my greatest enemy, I felt safest. I ducked my head and said halfheartedly “Hail..”. He sat on a throne made of solid gold, with obsidian veins running through it. His fierce expression never changed from anything extremely terrifying. This man exuded anger. He twisted a large scepter in his right hand. I assumed that this scepter was the source of his enormous power. His horrifying, supernatural powers that caused some members of Steampoint to view him as God “Good to see you know your place, Chris” The fact that he used my given name infuriated me to no end. The only person who had called me that had been my mother.
My mother; the rebel, the fighter, the idealist, the now deceased. King took her life when I was seven. He made an example of her in public, as I watched. I bit into my lip hard as he spoke, knowing to keep my mouth shut, for the people. Anything I said, they were punished for. “Yes, King. What did you need me for, sir?” I spat out the words like it was something disgusting. King grinned his self-fulfilled grin and started to speak “We are going to be closing a large number of the food production facilities in the city to make room for new weapon research plants.” I grinded my teeth “Yes, King.” “ We will be demolishing multiple buildings around town to make room for new statues of my likeness. The people seem to forget who their ruler is.” I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear him limb from limb. “Yes, King.” “We will be demolishing the Sunnybrooke Oraphanage to make room for a new office for Mr. Greetz and his Collectors.” “Yes, King.” He seemed finished, I turned to leave. “Oh,and Chris? Don’t let the residents know we’re demolishing it. With the lessening of the amount of food produced, we need to clear out a few of the less useful members of this society.” I stopped dead in my tracks and looked down, I couldn’t say anything to him, if I did, they would die. But if I didn’t… they would die. I stared down, that’s all I could bring myself to do, was just simply stare at the floor and take it “Yes, King.”.
edited 25th Feb '11 5:36:58 AM by Rauts
Dial "M" for Wumba.