Kevin's Watch

Depends on what I think of the second story I plan to write.
[KWATZ]

Loremaster wrote:Depends on what I think of the second story I plan to write.
[KWATZ]

What's "KWATZ" (am I going to look silly asking this?)

Something an AI character says in the Fall of Hyperion - it's like a laugh (well, AI laugh).

Loremaster wrote:Something an AI character says in the Fall of Hyperion - it's like a laugh (well, AI laugh).

Ahhhhhh.... ....LOL!

Seareach wrote:

Loremaster wrote:Something an AI character says in the Fall of Hyperion - it's like a laugh (well, AI laugh).

Ahhhhhh.... ....LOL!

[KWATZ]

Loremaster wrote:

Seareach wrote:

Loremaster wrote:Something an AI character says in the Fall of Hyperion - it's like a laugh (well, AI laugh).

Ahhhhhh.... ....LOL!

[KWATZ]

Very good, Loremaster! Very good!

KWATZ = Kevin's WATZ

“…there are things that happen in this life that transcend normal perceptions. You don’t understand what is going on here.” Jake pleaded.
“You idiot! What makes you so damn sure I give a crap about you or anyone else?” Trent pushed away with as much force as he could muster. His momentum sent him spiraling away from the railroad car and out of Jake’s grasp. Trent began to spin head over heels into the air until he began to strike the limbs of the trees that arced over the railway.
“You can’t do this! You know how much everyone needs you. Stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy.” Jake clutched the edge of the open door with his left hand to steady himself. With his free hand Jake balled his fist and thrust it above his head in the direction Trent was drifting. A thick, brown rope erupted from between Jake’s second and third knuckle and lashed out toward Trent. The rope seemed to bend to Jake’s will and quickly coiled around Trent’s left leg.
“Stop it, Jake. I’m not going with you. I’m not going anywhere but back where I belong. When will you finally understand that you can’t force me to be someone I’m not?” Trent tugged at the rope trying to free himself but without leverage he only managed to spin wildly out of control. The tree limbs scraped Trent’s arms and face as he tumbled helplessly into a thick knot of twisted branches. Trent screamed in pain. Jake could see that several sharp twigs had been driven into the soft flesh of Trent’s face. Blood streamed out into the open air in globlets, propelled by the pounding and pressure of Trent’s laboring heart.

Ahh, sounds like 'Tales of the Hangman and the Tumbler'.....

Or maybe this....

Tempest reached the device first. She pulled up from her desperate dive just above the bright, glowing dome that topped the upper stages of the rocket. Time had nearly run out and there was no room for hesitation or error. She instantly dropped down level with the warhead and wrapped her arms around its steaming, metal skin. A scream erupted from her throat as the vulnerable flesh beneath the sleeves of her costume was painfully scorched when the fabric suddenly burst into flame.
“Tempest!” Theron tried to make himself heard over the roar of the rocket’s engines. His speed was hampered by the gash along his left side. A steady trickle of blood fluttered in the air behind him. “Get the hell away from that thing.” He sobbed. His face stretched in stunned dismay as he desperately tried to close the distance between them. “I can destroy it. I swear. Just give me another chance!”
Tempest either could not hear or chose to ignore him. Theron had betrayed her. He had betrayed everyone that had ever trusted him. He knew that she had discovered the truth and yet found the strength to sacrifice herself on his behalf.
In one fluid motion she swung her legs down to brace against the side of the rocket, strained for only a moment, then ripped the warhead free from its mount in a shower of twisted metal shards. Without a guidance system the rocket instantly began to plunge downward toward the waiting ocean below. As Tempest launched herself upward into the clouds, Theron watched in horror as the rest of her body burst into flame. She screamed in agony but refused to release the warhead.
A moment later she disappeared beyond Theron’s sight. Tears washed down the sides of his face as he struggled to follow but his power was almost completely drained.

I like the story, but I don't like the idea of Charlize Theron as a man....

Well, The Machine Kingdom is complete! It stands at 9000 words (thereabouts). I'll need a week or so to edit it (there's alot of editing) and I have to think about the ending (if it works or ties up the theme). I will submit it in 2 weeks, I think.

Loremaster wrote:Well, The Machine Kingdom is complete! It stands at 9000 words (thereabouts). I'll need a week or so to edit it (there's alot of editing) and I have to think about the ending (if it works or ties up the theme). I will submit it in 2 weeks, I think.

Outstanding! You are way ahead of me, LM. I'm hovering at about 70% complete with at least one re write to go. I'll be lucky if I get mine submitted by the middle of august.

I'm impressed by how fast you guys work.

I've got no excerpt to post yet, because I haven't started writing it, but I've finally come up with an idea I'm excited about... I think the story is going to be called Messiah Complex.

I've decided I'll submit Ghostblood, and probably a second story too (if I manage to finish it in time).

For those who don't know it, the first half of Ghostblood was posted in the Hall of Gifts a couple of months ago: so here's the taste of it

kevinswatch.ihugny.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=9184

The version I will submit has a few corrections though, and should hopefully be slightly more polished.

I don't know if I'll be done in time, this is my first effort at writing a genuine story, but I've got about 1500 words at the moment. If not this anthology then I'll definately submit it for the next one.

Rex, slumped regally in his red and white deck chair, it’s back bulging almost to breaking point, slowly smiled to himself. His insanity had become so acute he was now aware of it and embraced it. Crookedly, fighting against his gluttonous weight, the chair had been placed atop a mountain of used tyres and garbage and was his throne. Now, he spent his days, when awake, surveying his kingdom. As the sweat rolled down his fat face, trickling through the maze of whiskers and onto his stained, formerly white vest, his one good eye flicked from side to side watching for intruders. The junk yard was his and he’d kill to protect it. The sign on the gate said no intruders and Rex had always believed in signs. As the boy approached the smile fell from his face…

Do you really spell it 'Tyres' down there? Or was it a typ-o?

drew wrote:Do you really spell it 'Tyres' down there? Or was it a typ-o?

heh. No we spell it tyre.

Heh, cool. But shouldn't 'thrown' should be spelt 'throne'?