edited 2nd May '10 6:05:05 PM by Leradny
The modest street of homes seem quite empty and devoid of people with the liveliness from before, save for a young couple who kiss their lips so tenderly by the side. The sun makes a brief shine of light through the grey clouds before being covered in obscurity once more. The yoki seems to lead over to the entrance of one of these homes.. Clare waits. She just stares hard at the closed, wooden entrance. Nothing happens for the longest time, and no one comes out. Welling up enough courage inside her, Clare makes a decision, and starts to the door. Its eclipsing shadow falled on the meek looking man inside the house, who had his head perked through the crack of the door. It would like to come into his parlour and have a good rest. “Can I come in?” “Who are you?” he asked. “I like your house. Can I come in?” “What the hell is this?” the man said. “No, you can't come in.” “Are you sure?” It raised a hand from the sack it carried to push the door all the way open. “What.. what are you doing?!” the man asked, trying to use all his strength to keep the door from opening. The door opens slowly anyway.. it hurts Clare stands, frozen still as her hand lays on the cold iron handle of the door. The scars left on her body tingle and ache as she tries to will herself to open the door against hesitation. Humid sweat goes down her forehead and cheeks. Then her moist hand slowly and surely turns and twists the handle, and she opens the door with narily a sound. With halting steps, Clare enters the household. The first thing that greets Clare is the lingering smell of sour stale rot. As the greyness inside shows itself to the pouring light through the door, she makes out the unkempt and tattered state of the house. Overturned furniture and a very large pile of scattered cloth litter the parlour. There's one archway into the front hall – and another leading to a dining alcove and through there the kitchen. Clare shuts the entrance door ever so slowly, leaving only the dreary grey shining through the drapes for light. For the moment, she stands in indecision, not sure what to do next in the way she is now. She just stares out from under the hood at the mess. The suppression pill seems to be wearing out – the drag of her greatsword no longer seems to pull her down with all its cumbersome weight. Still though, there's a certain lethargy that is still lingering through her self. She tries to sense the presence of the Yoma – its yoki now the stench of a perfume overwhelmingly saturating the air. It's all too much for her to determine where it might be lurking even. But something inside tells her that it will be all right. Very slowly, she unsheathes her greatsword (so heavy!) almost falls over in the effort, and wields it with her two hands. Step by step, Clare makes her way into the open hall, sword wavering. A grisly and pulverized body lies - fleshy stumps of legs propped up against the wall in the unclear darkness. Everywhere is stained by the dark red of blood spots. Now the stink hits her full on it hurts Her breathing comes down harder, unsettled, taking in the decayed air. Some moaning, heard muffled through the walls. A little pause, before Clare makes her way to where the cries come from, avoiding stepping near the body. It twitches a little as she creeps her way past it; the eyesockets, though eyeless, still seemingly eyeing her. The mahogany door lies closed at the end of the hall – the handle dulled and worn. Clare lays her fingers on the cold cast-iron, turns it slow— it opens in a soft creak. The chamber here is with rags and towels hanging sagged beside washbasins – the windows have all been covered up with the hanging curtains. There's an uneven dripping sound, for one of the towels, stained a bit red, leaks its spare drops into the basin. A door right in front shows hints of the outside light creaking through the cracks, while another door on the left wall.. It's the same weak moaning – right through the left door. Clare holds her sword down as she heads over to the left – finds it hard just to pull it open— as it grabbed one of the bound and tied young children in its hand, and went on to the kitchen In the darkness of the pantry, three children, naked and bruised, lie on their side against the cold ground – their hands and feet are bound by many rags of cloth. They whimper, as they struggle along on the ground. Oh shit..! Clare rushes on down, lays her claymore by the side, hurries her hands to untie and rip their bonds apart. The boy.. the girl... the other boy (somehow familiar). Her hands fumble. She could not help but notice their wrists and ankles are a ghastly purple. Now these bonds are but shredded rags. The children shake, shivering in the cold. Clare raises a finger to her mouth - “Shh. Shhhh shh.” She gives a little smile and takes off her hood to show her face. “It's okay.” And they look to her, and manage their smiles too - they are in good hands now. “Okay,” she goes, hushed. She helps them all up, and hefts the claymore from the side. Clare inches her head out the door, looking around the laundry room to see, before she notions for them to follow. She doesn't want them to feel so cold anymore, so she rummages through the piles of cloths for anything that resembles clothing – swaddles them and opens the back door to outside. / The backyard seems bare, enclosed by hedge bushes and with a withered, leafless old tree at the corner. Clare leads them over to the tree's shelter, with the concealment of the tree trunk and hanging branches. The children huddle together, as they go to sit down and look upon Clare in her poncho. “Stay here,” she goes to them, before she heads off— “But where are you going?” the girl asks worryingly. “Where's Mama? Papa?” A beat. Clare could not bring herself to say anything for a moment – the body down in the hallway brings back so much pain and horror and the sadness in her mind for her own.. Papa.. Mama.. The tears well down from her silver eyes, her heart under so much pain. The children do not say anything – just bewildered and frightened, that someone so brave would just cry all of the sudden. But finally, she manages to bring herself to say something, with all sincerity. “I will find your Papa and Mama,” she goes. “And I'll make sure.. that monster.. will never bother you ever again.”
edited 2nd May '10 12:23:33 PM by QQQQQ
As detailed above, some of your word choices and turns of phrase are odd or indistinct. You also have a problem with keeping the piece in present tense—there are shifts into past tense here and there which are quite jarring. The single use of "Oh, shit!" was also incredibly jarring. I would remove the profanity, or make it more prevalent overall. I also couldn't get a sense of the world, since the name "Clare" is European, as is the greatsword/claymore, but "Yuma" and "yoki" bring to mind Eastern magic. Also, she is using a greatsword in what appears to be modern-day Earth. You seem to be trying for a stream-of-consciousness tone to add an element of surrealism, with the odd page breaks and a careful (lack of) use for punctuation. But as you are not quite there yet, or not aiming for a stream-of-consciousness tone at all, it just seems like stilted regular prose that gives an extremely vague sense of place and time, and jumps from POV to POV far too quickly for me to get a sense of the characters. I also have to wonder what happened to the man at the door, as he just disappeared when Clare entered the room. Oh, and your use of "so" tended to shift emphasis to a subject that shouldn't have gotten it (the young couple in the beginning, for example), or added emphasis to the character's emotions which was completely unfitting for a piece with such a detached tone (Clare, at the end, seemed rather too emotional for the calm, collected personality you'd established, all because of a two-letter word that popped up twice in the same paragraph). Please tone down your use of ellipses and em-dashes. They cause the tone to swing between wildly purple and oddly beige. Sometimes in the span of two sentences, which is confusing and not very enjoyable. I also find you to have a case of Talking Heads in the beginning conversation, which is probably to add mystery. But you can keep one person's identity vague while still describing the surroundings and the appearances of people who you don't need to hide. Good points: I may have gotten a vague glimpse of the world, but I appreciate what I did see—particularly the addition of a horrific element, along with the detached wariness Clare gained upon seeing it. I also liked how you characterized Clare herself. She was professional, yet caring towards the children, and while her outburst at the end was unexpected you did point out that the children themselves were surprised. Since the empathy was intended to add some character depth, I would suggest you just drop a few more hints towards it so the reader won't be taken completely by surprise like I was. Your dialogue flows quite naturally, which stands out a lot against the prose. I applaud you for even attempting to write a long stretch of prose without talking. This isn't a horrible piece, it just needs some coherency in order for the readers to enjoy themselves fully. I am quite interested in the world, and what Clare's exact occupation is that she goes about hunting for monsters while still having the capacity to care about other people. If this is ever revised, I would like to read it again.
edited 2nd May '10 5:07:04 PM by Leradny
edited 2nd May '10 5:56:05 PM by QQQQQ
edited 2nd May '10 6:05:24 PM by Leradny
- “Where they were headed was already obvious, though, thanks to the flyer Cress clutched in her hand, a small printed sheet of paper that read 'Tempo Allegro Performing Tonight – admission free for children 12 and under'.”
- The sentence runs on a little long, you might wan to turn the comma between “hand” and “a small..” into a semicolon.
- “A trapdoor opened at either end..”
- I think that should be “both ends”.
- I agree with the Funetik Accent issue Leradny brings up, it’s a tad out of place
- ”covered with bright patches of red and green shot through with orange that all seemed to swirl together”
- Good imagery, “shot through” is an uncommon way to describe something, and it works well.
- “As the song took shape, so did the scene around them,”
- The entire performance scene was very beautifully written with some unique images. Very enjoyable.
- Your character seems to fluctuate between being perky and talkative (especially when describing gorier moments) and shying away from it. I could see the former as being moment where her personality bleeds through her disguise, but she seems fairly good at controlling it, given the ending.
- A minor thing:Number 52's eyelashes pulsed as her gaze traveled from the paper to the intercom which sat in the middle of the table, quietly recording every word that was being said.pulsed is probably the word I would avoid using- it seems quite odd.
- Also, The fact that Martin put pencils through his eyes wouldn't necessarily be the biggest indicator of a suicide- it would seem that someone as mild-mannered as him would have great difficulty putting a freaking pencil through his eye; it's harder than it looks, especially from a psychological standpoint (no, I don't speak from experience.). The mere fact that two pencils were in his eyes would be ample evidence to condemn 52, ignoring the fact that they you would require that much force to put them through your head. Then again, your way works too.
- Finally, the pupil being shrunken is not something I would associate with surprise, per se; to me, it would be closer to being drugged- something you could consider drawing a parallel with.
- Your grasp of horror is excellent- there's a momentary hope spot at the end, followed by a good dose of eye scream.
- I like the way you communicate the staccato-ish (sorry, it's late and I can't think of a better word) speech or the sort of nostalgic sense over the scene, which acts as good foreshadowing. The similes made me laugh despite the macabre situation
- Finally, your characterization is nice- the part where Martin holds a pencil tightly during the massacre description was a perfect means of communicating his character traits and how uncomfortable he was with the situation. I would say that that part was my favorite in the story (I'm not generally a horror fan.)
- Final bit: It seemed also to me that Dalton hasn't given much thought to containment procedure- stating that they could not keep there without her consent- but you may want to specify that they want to keep her intact, as it would leave a bit of a plot hole as to why they wouldn't just kill her. Or, if you feel that it disrupts the flow, don't.
edited 11th May '10 4:56:42 PM by Morgulion
edited 10th May '10 8:00:43 PM by harmattane
- You are good at writing in Stream-of-consciousness style, and the setting with the hallucinations is evocative of and gives a good means to write so. While I did have to reread a few bits to catch what was going on, you manage to convey the overall picture quite well.
- You are wonderfully good at building a world- the carefree- do-what-you-want quality was immediately visible, and your superb description of the details and small things props it up and gives it realism. It is a great setting, and I think that given your writing skill, you can make a superb work with it.
- I liked the characterization as well- from their introductions, we can see just what Lux and Aubrey are like- well done.
- That leaves minor, mostly grammatical and stylistic things for my:
- The introduction (1st post)- it seemed jarring to transfer suddenly from present to past tense. Perhaps, as a suggestion, it would be better to make it unified, and it certainly seems better when I viewed it in the past tense.
- Minor gripe, also introductory (1st post)- you may want to insert a throwaway line about how the radioactivity of the glow-in-the-dark flavor was ignored, otherwise it raises questions about why someone would do that when seemingly there would probably be a way to prevent it from being like that.
- introduction, 1st post-no had figured out how.probably should be none.
- introduction, 1st post- confectionary seems the wrong word to use when referring to the beverage- it implies more of a candy-ish tinge.
- 1st post overall- your description of the fight scene comes at a slightly inopportune time, and left me a bit confused as to what had happened, before I finished the post and got it.
- 1st post-he wore his new girdle for the first time, one size larger than the last. They never looked good on him.- I know it’s not, but it seems like an agreement error on first reading, so rephrasing might be prudent.
- 1st post- when the child's powdery hair had appeared just below the edge of their table and matter-of-factly observed that the guy over there waving the pointy thing did not like him.- this was a confusing bit, and it requires knowledge of what is described later- so you might want to explain it a bit more clearly.
- 1st post-said Aubrey, his basso voice rolling through his pasty face- you may want to use a different word- basso is more associated with operatic singers, although it does fit.
- 10th post- which filled the screened off elevator- screened-off should be hyphenated.
- 10th post-The elevator scene with the floor tile took me a while to figure out, despite its simplicity (shows what doing this after an exam is like.). Maybe you ought to make it a bit clearer.
- 10th post- smelled metallic, like factory air- metallic isn’t the smell I would associate with the factory- fire and mustiness, yes, metal, no.
edited 11th May '10 5:55:45 PM by Morgulion
- 23rd post-but this had one. Auxiliary, rising from the base like an extra arm with its keyboard for Aubrey’s use alone.I suggest turning this into one sentence.
- 23rd post- the tube he had haplessly wound around himself from the skin of another Iosethep noble.could use clarification, although I got it the 3rd time through.
- 30th post- Maybe Aubrey typing while Lux waited in a boring void.- could use a 'was'.
- 30th post- The dendrites, the Blue Men called this place of limbo between virtual locations, as its branches resembled the inside of a brain.I advise rephrasing this- remove the of, and the latter 2/3 seems a bit jumbled.
- 30th post- He had will, but nothing but will.- I advise altering the first but to something else, as it just seems odd.
- 41st post- made the will to scold the head for talking to Lux like his mother drop out of Lux’s head and pool in his feet unused.- comma before final word.
- 41st post- And that is how one gets Lux Langley II to speak immediately.a bit of a tense break there.
edited 11th May '10 6:35:18 PM by Morgulion
- 53rd post- round little person sitting on its edge, alone.- you may want to put a comma between round and little.
- 53rd post-In fact, tension he had had before had visibly left him.- I would add an article to tension and remove the second had.
- 53rd post-Annecy showed Lux something she did not want Aubrey to know she was showing him.a bit awkwardly phrased.
- 57th post- His petrified body spun slowly in the air and had become semitransparent; he had forgotten about it.- try to keep consistent tenses.
- 57th post-Lux had known, and that being used to taking such leaps daily,- take out the that.
- 57th post-to break the laws of the world he was used to occupying should have been a tougher mental leap.I would suggest that you change the first infinitive to 'breaking', as it seems to flow better that way.
- 57th post- He laughed at himself into the damaged ceiling.- it's a very odd turn of the phrase, but I suppose it could work.
- 57th post- May have missed it, but I think Hans intruded a bit suddenly- it could be a bit smoother.
edited 11th May '10 7:20:17 PM by Morgulion
In the dark confines of the closet room, Renton Thurston stares out through the plexiglass window, at the billowing clouds, orange and purple they are from the unseen setting sun. The wisps make their lovely patterns all around, a blanket of sorts, beneath the violet-streaked dusk sky as the Gekko-Go heads its course. There is this urge within him, just to go out, and fly, fly in this beautiful scene, out in the Nirvash. But what of this beauty, if there is only Renton there in the air, alone? It would be leaving out the touch of spice that makes the spaghetti taste so wonderful. Immediately though, he thinks of the one person who makes his heart beat faster in joy, and his cheeks flush warm with red. He pictures the flowing cyan hair that comes down to her petite neck and those alluring violet eyes. There wasn't anyone else he'd met who had such pretty eyes. He imagines her by his side, warm hand in hand, in Nirvash's spacious cockpit. How wonderful it must be to share the wonder of this moment with her, Eureka. Renton must hurry though. The sun would not wait for them before taking its rest beneath the covers of the horizon. What if I get in trouble though? Holland and the others might not like it if I just.. take the Nirvash out for no reason.. These doubtful thoughts though are soon forgotten as Renton takes one last look through the windows, and heads out into the hallways, over to the communal room where Eureka spends her time playing Maurice, Mater and Link at a game of ping-pong. Spacious windows all over reveal more of the passing outside. Renton goes to approach the fun, watching on to his amusement as all the combined efforts of the young trio couldn't seem to catch Eurkea's quick curveball. His heart begins to beat in anticipation, looking at her supple face – she looks to him too, noticing. "Renton?" Eureka goes. He cringes for but a second, as the trio on the other side of the table gaze to him in dirty looks, Maurice especially. "What do you want meatball head?" Poor Renton, almost forgetting what he would say, let alone why he followed his urges here. Link stifles a giddy chuckle under a little hand. Renton manages to regain his composure though, and slowly comes to Eureka. "Hey.. would you mind if I.. talk to you a minute?" "He's gonna do it!" Mater goes. "With her—" "Mater!" Eureka shoots the girl a scowl, before turning to him. "Yes. I would love to." She smiles. And thus, he leads her to a more private corner of the room, trying not to mind the children throwing raspberries behind his back. "What is it you wish to talk of?" she goes, looking upon him with the faintest curiosity. "Well. Um.." His mouth doesn't seem to want to move at this time, being frozen in tense hesitation. This has got to be the most insane thing I'm about to do.. man what am I thinking? "Is it something wrong?" she asks. "No.. no.." He lets in a little gulp down his throat. How to put all this feeling into proper words? It all feels like it makes sense, and yet it's all outlandish when it comes to saying it out. "I just.. I want to fly outside, with you." Eureka blinks, taking in Renton's words. Her face lightens up a bit, while his seems to blush so bashfully red. "There's this feeling that I have," he goes, "when I look outside. It's so beautiful out. All those purple clouds floating. I want to fly out with them. But it wouldn't be, couldn't be the same if I go all by myself." His heart pounds against his chest incessantly. "I want to go fly, with you." Eureka holds her breath in, flattered, unsure. It feels like the longest and most unbearable wait in Renton's life, her just standing there, before he receives her answer of her warm hand clasping around his, and her reassuring smile. "Yes." Did he hear her right? It is a whisper of a "yes" from her, one he could barely hear, and yet she has her hand with his. "Yes." "Okay." He walks with her through the hallways of the Gekko-Go, passing by and greeting Mischa along the way – Mischa eyes them pensively before she continues down. Every step he takes, Renton feels a little more queasy, light-headed. It feels like a good dream that would burst at any moment now, but the feeling of Eureka's soft hand in his feels all too warm to be some figment of his wandering imagination. If so, then he wishes that none of the others come across them, put an abrupt end to this moment. After taking the elevators down to C-deck, Renton can hear more of the low, distaff humming of the Gekko-Go's engines, as he leads – Eureka leads him over down into the expanses of the dock, where the gargantuan Nirvash rests so in the abyssal darkness. As they step down the staircase from the light of the hallway, all of the sudden the lights go to illuminate the place in light of Renton and Eureka's presences. "Renton?" Eureka asks. "Are you sure this is okay?" A certain urge is compelling the boy now, far past proper reason. He would in all likely respect turn back if it were any other time, but not right now, not when the sun is on the verge of disappearing and the moment being missed. "Yes," he goes to Eureka, smiling from out the corners of his heart, and they head on to clamber in one of Nirvash's two spacius cockpits. Renton snuggles himself snugly beside her on the seat, feeling her warmth emanate by the shoulders. "Shall I drive?" she asks. Now that she has mentioned it, Renton had never really considered who would be flying, in that imagination of his. It would be fine for him to show and guide the Nirvash in the painted canvas of air, while she can be free to look around and enjoy herself. Renton can grasp most of the manouvers almost as easily as Eureka can, including the famous cut-back drop turn, but there is one thing that had always troubled him the most – taking off and landing in the dock itself; the enclosed space would always threaten to collide with the Nirvash while the freedom of air never does. "How about.. you take off from the Gekko-Go, and then I take over from there?" "Okay," Eureka goes, understanding. She wakes the Nirvash up from its sleep, and the lights of the cockpit come to their shining life as Nirvash goes to assume a stand-by, idle position. Renton takes in a gulp, feels his stomach sink in preparation for the fast lurches of speed to come. After checking up on Nirvash's status and knowing that the Nirvash is all right, she sends a command in the adjacent console to set the launch pathway up for take off. The noise of the blaring alarms and screeching of the launch gate being lifted up are numbed and dulled automatically in the canopy for Renton and Eureka's benefit. Through the opening of the gate, Renton can see the pathway angle itself downwards, to the outside purple clouds that flow past sight. When the launch gate has completely risen, the pathway lights up in glaring green and yellow light leading the way out. Out of force of habit, Eureka finds herself shouting "Eureka and Renton, Nirvash typeZERO, launching!" Renton watches her hands gently push forward the control joysticks, and feels the slow lurch of Nirvash's movement – moving so slowly to the start of the pathway— Renton blinks. The Nirvash bounds forward, its legs propelled along the track to frightening speeds – Renton is continually thrusted against the seat, teeth clattering and sweat on his face dripping back. Eureka keeps her calm, no sign of any worries whatsoever on her face as Nirvash finds itself free in the outside sky. To finish the sequence, Eureka presses a button to have Nirvash deploy out and ride the ref board to glide along the trepar waves in the air.
edited 12th May '10 7:49:08 AM by QQQQQ
- 65th post-The red gloved hands of his subordinates swarmed to the spot.- either put a comma or a hyphen.
- 65th post- We have no allies, no mothers, no staff that will stay with us for over a week!- the order seemss a bit out of place.
- Oh. Oh—three times. Maybe two and a half.”- take out one of the 'oh's and it will improve the flow.
- 68th post- behind just enough panes of glass.- it's a phrase that seems oddly made.
- 68th post- the black clad, faceless guards- hyphenate black-clad.
- 68th post- remorseless as Lux or fearful- I advise switching around the 2 descriptors.
- “It’s been a minute can we leave him now?” he gasped.- probably want a comma after the minute.
- 68th post-blood from his forehead mixing with his smudged lipstick mixing with his hair, which had fallen over his face from the weight of the rain.- I think the list would be better with a few commas.
- 103rd post-He twisted his arms ear- near, I assume you mean.
- 103rd post-through the finger sized hole- hyphenate finger-sized.
- 105th post-Doctor Hisakawa, the first person he’d called out for, just because he had seen her last.- I think a 'was' would be good after the Hisakawa, while removing the comma.
- 105th post-not to just let it sit.- 'not just to let it sit.'
- 105th post-He collapsed in it shivering too violently to move- comma after 'it'.
- Overall post 106- Kenichi's oath made me laugh for a long time. Great writing.
- post 106- beside Lux, who looked pretty dead on his back with his eyes wide open and crossed.comma after back.
- post 106- They had never known any emotions that could bond- it's a slightly odd turn of the phrase.
- post 106- Lux flexed the trigger, firing the flag square into Kenichi's eye.- you may want to add that it didn't pop his eye or something, because that's my first impression.
- post 113 overall- loved the characterization on Kenichi, wonderful at showing his slight immaturity. He's probably become my favorite character by now.
- post 113- but something in him did not believe.- I'd add an 'it' to the sentence end.
- post 113- What he saw dissolved his legs out from under him.- dissolved is an odd word, but it could actually work here.
- Overall post 124- great description, very communicative imagery.
- post 124- cruched into the floor,- probably crunched or crushed.
- post 124-shoving the eyes around them together too tightly;- it wouldn't seem to me that a tube would shove the eyes around, but whatever you see fit.
- Overall post 144- superb telling of the story, great imagination, and I love Kenichi's additions to the narrative, which are quite hilarious. I must reiterate how great this is.
- post 144-story your dad tell you every night?- ought to be tells, as it sort of jars the rest of the flow.
- post 147 overall- You communicate the tenderness between Tama and Kenichi very well, while not losing the characteristic touch.
- post 147-never got to do enough of,- 'never got enough of' would work better.
- That's about it for what is present so far.
edited 12th May '10 2:31:36 PM by Morgulion
edited 12th May '10 6:48:28 PM by Morgulion
- You are great at communicating the hesitant feeling and action of Renton- from the pauses in his speech to the evident interest he has in Eureka, given his description of her. The feeling of love throughout this is evident.
- You also carry over the 'sky as fabric' metaphor well- I noted elements of it throughout the piece.
- Also, after reading, I realized that the movement of the Nirvash is similar to Renton's own- hesitant at first and then more rapid. Great parallel!
- Renton Thurston stares out through the plexiglass window, at the billowing cloudsno comma.
- Nirvash goes to assume a stand-by, idle position.It seems to flow better if you removed 'stand-by'.
- Renton is continually thrusted against the seat,just thrust, not thrusted.
- to the outside purple clouds that flow past sight.- I think the placement of 'outside' is a bit odd- how about 'out to the purple clouds that flow past sight.'?
edited 12th May '10 4:26:16 PM by Morgulion
- I like the undertones of star-crossed despair looming between Gant and Itou in the face of war - and how a single bullet can manage to tear all that love apart. As well, I notice their fears of losing each other, Gant and Itou holding onto each other as if they might disappear one day forever. Write more on that.
- I also like the discrepency between the titular Gant and his comrades by his side, though it doesn't seem clear on why he seems resentful towards them (then again, is an excerpt out from the whole story).
The billowing purples and blues of the dusk seem much more vivid and haunting from the view of the canopy than Renton had ever hoped to see. Gold streaks from the tip of the setting sun on the right, bathing Nirvash in a yellow tinge. Eureka's purple eyes meet with Renton's - a hint of beckoning in the glint. She waits, keeping her hands steady as Renton's reachs out to grasp onto her hands, her soft and lovely hands around the joysicks. When he seems to have a good hold, she lets go. In the brief moment, Renton wraps his fingers around the dual controls, feels all of Nirvash – every nuance of its being come upon himself. He and she fly in the pretty skies, as carefree and joyful as they can be. By his side, Renton sees Eureka avidly admire all the colours, quite convinced that she is seeing the same poignent beauty he sees. "Renton! Look!" Eureka nudges his shoulder, pointing her hand down to the left. And from perking his head over, he sees a vague formation amongst a puff of cloud below, coming closer and clearer. They are little skyfish, an endless swarm, rising up and out from the vagueness, and with their beating wings they fly to be with Nirvash's side. Renton remembers from class that the skyfish would come be attracted to beautiful moments, shared in tenderness. Their lush wings seem to beat forth in time with each other, with the euphoric beating of Renton's own heart. "It's so beautiful, Eureka." As the sun becomes a faint orange haze along the dark of the cloud horizon, Renton begins to notice the sharp orange glow of the read-out displays on the dashboard - the Gekko-Go's position lies on the bare edge of the radar, almost out of Nirvash's range. By now, it would seem a good idea to turn back and call it a night. Holland and the others might be worrying, and the thought of receiving Holland's punishing beat downs makes him nervous. But Renton decides to ignore the pleas nagging inside his mind, instead turning the Nirvash over to chase the last throes of daylight. Maybe this night will be special. Maybe this night holds a wonder somewhere in the air, waiting to be touched. The stars begin to shine and glow above on the sky – a canopy of bright beacons that stretches on like an ocean of eternity. They seem to be adrift in interstellar space now; Eureka is leaning by Renton's stiffened shoulder, absolutely still on the edge of the seat, taking in all of the night. Renton too. The stars are like he has never seen them before, being such a refreshing and blissful sight. If he reaches up high, he could feel them lap and melt in his hands like snowflakes. A streak of purple trails gently down the canvas. It's a shooting star. "Hey," Renton goes. "Wanna make a wish?" Eureka is hypnotically looking upon the purple, her warm hands clasped around Renton's. For a long while, she does not say anything. Then she turns to him. "I have. What about you?" Renton looks back to the shooting star, unsure of what to think. He feels the happiest he has ever been in his whole life, so glad of the moment, and there doesn't seem to be anything else he could ever want. Deep inside though, he knows it will all have to end eventually. The thought of this moment, lost in time feels so overwhelmingly saddening.. He tries to hide it in, and keep this happiness close to his heart, forever. But it is all too much for one to bear, and he feels it all about to burst – a balloon taking in too much air at once. He finds it hard to breathe. "Renton?" The tears come down from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. "What's wrong, Renton?" she asks. I.. don't know. Eureka reaches out to caress – he feels her gentle fingers as they stroke over to brush away his tears. He turns to her, finding a solace in her caring, purple eyes. A sincere, appreciative smile comes upon him. She looks back, curious and unsure. His heart on the verge of caving in, Renton lets himself go, and holds Eureka so closely and dearly in his arms, his head by hers over her shoulder. He feels her heart beating faster and faster with his through her chest, her breaths brushing by his bare neck, and the overall blushing warmth from her. And for this blissful moment, they lie so peacefully still in each other's side, glad. After what seems like forever, Renton leans back from her, and looks to her straight in her eyes. He has no idea what will happen next, if only this happiness may continue. "I.." Renton finds himself trying to make words, say something, anything at all, but the words just won't come. "Hm?" Then suddenly it comes, as miraculous as it is to him as to her – Renton locks his lips with hers in a kiss. It's so indescribably wonderful. He can feel her hot breath mingling with his, the rush of excitement, and above all, a wholesome feeling of gratitude in his heart.
edited 17th May '10 8:24:18 AM by QQQQQ