... Lol.Crill3 wrote:Sugaru?
An attempt at Lugaru fanfiction.
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Part Two - Meditation
Verteidiger. His enemy. That excuse-for-a-rabbit, that cold, heartless fool had been leading the village on a wild crusade for many years, now.
Nonetheless, Angreifer was one to give credit where it was do, and Verteidiger was an amazing warrior to be sure.
That was why Angrei had to do this. It was the only way to flesh out his strategy without getting viciously messed up.
Now in the Great Desert, Angrei slowly stepped up to a statue of a great, meditating rabbit. Nobody knew the name of the Great One, but everybody knew his serenity, his virtue, and his skill.
Angrei hopped onto the outstretched hands, lunged up onto the tuft of fur of the chest, and finally came to land on top of the straight-upwards, erect ears, cast in stone... There, he came to sit down, outstretching his own paws... In fact, he seemed a miniature version of the Great One mounted atop the Great One's ears, with the way he had settled down.
The instant he closed his eyes he seemed to be in a plane of nothing but whiteness. All in his own mind, of course, but the visual slowly shifted to a plane of snow, falling... Trees of bamboo rose, growing at a visible rate until they seemed almost taller than the eye could trace.
Finally, and old shrine seemed to erect itself from the ground beside him... Marking his deathplace...
Bronislav, the one friend he'd made thus far, since all of these troubles... The one whom he'd taken in despite knowing it would lead to his being labeled a treasonous collaborator... He would die... And it would be before even Angrei himself.
Sometimes he just wished that there was some way he might be able to stop it...
Finally, though, his minds eye constructed a visual of that fanatical, xenophobic wolfslayer, Verteidiger.
The rabbit was dark, a deep, chocolate brown. Upon his body he wore a set of hakama, with alternating stripes of yellow and brown, while a golden-colored underkimono rested under a brown one, topped off by a golden haori, marked with the symbol of the rabbits who had once loved peacefully in their clan.
In his hands, the legendary blade of the Purefire was clasped. Nobody knew if it really had any sort of magic to it, but it was nonetheless an item that had only ever met the hands of warriors of real skill. That long, sinuous katana was at the very least a masterpiece.
The most difficult part of this battle-mediation? Honesty.
He lunged forward towards the brown-furred wolfslayer... Only to be met with a single swipe along his chest, which even he was only barely able to dodge, getting a nice, blood-red streak across his chest.
Scratch that tactic off his list...
The wound 'healed,' and he was back to square one... This time, he rushed again, but stopped out of the sword's range, ducking, rolling forward and hopping high into the air, planting his feet heavily into a bamboo tree and flinging himself at Verteidiger's back.
He was quickly impaled for his over-elegance.
Damnable swordsman...
His eyes slowly opened, the mental plane seemingly lost... And he gazed up at the moon.
It all seemed hopeless.
He was brought out of his revery by the telltale crunch of foot on sand. A knife was quickly brought to bear. "Show yourself."
Barely visible for his sandy-colored fur, a canid of some kind was approaching.
"... I waited here for hours, Angrei. Where the hell were you?"
"I was held up... I have much to tell you, Bronislav."
- End of Part II.
Verteidiger. His enemy. That excuse-for-a-rabbit, that cold, heartless fool had been leading the village on a wild crusade for many years, now.
Nonetheless, Angreifer was one to give credit where it was do, and Verteidiger was an amazing warrior to be sure.
That was why Angrei had to do this. It was the only way to flesh out his strategy without getting viciously messed up.
Now in the Great Desert, Angrei slowly stepped up to a statue of a great, meditating rabbit. Nobody knew the name of the Great One, but everybody knew his serenity, his virtue, and his skill.
Angrei hopped onto the outstretched hands, lunged up onto the tuft of fur of the chest, and finally came to land on top of the straight-upwards, erect ears, cast in stone... There, he came to sit down, outstretching his own paws... In fact, he seemed a miniature version of the Great One mounted atop the Great One's ears, with the way he had settled down.
The instant he closed his eyes he seemed to be in a plane of nothing but whiteness. All in his own mind, of course, but the visual slowly shifted to a plane of snow, falling... Trees of bamboo rose, growing at a visible rate until they seemed almost taller than the eye could trace.
Finally, and old shrine seemed to erect itself from the ground beside him... Marking his deathplace...
Bronislav, the one friend he'd made thus far, since all of these troubles... The one whom he'd taken in despite knowing it would lead to his being labeled a treasonous collaborator... He would die... And it would be before even Angrei himself.
Sometimes he just wished that there was some way he might be able to stop it...
Finally, though, his minds eye constructed a visual of that fanatical, xenophobic wolfslayer, Verteidiger.
The rabbit was dark, a deep, chocolate brown. Upon his body he wore a set of hakama, with alternating stripes of yellow and brown, while a golden-colored underkimono rested under a brown one, topped off by a golden haori, marked with the symbol of the rabbits who had once loved peacefully in their clan.
In his hands, the legendary blade of the Purefire was clasped. Nobody knew if it really had any sort of magic to it, but it was nonetheless an item that had only ever met the hands of warriors of real skill. That long, sinuous katana was at the very least a masterpiece.
The most difficult part of this battle-mediation? Honesty.
He lunged forward towards the brown-furred wolfslayer... Only to be met with a single swipe along his chest, which even he was only barely able to dodge, getting a nice, blood-red streak across his chest.
Scratch that tactic off his list...
The wound 'healed,' and he was back to square one... This time, he rushed again, but stopped out of the sword's range, ducking, rolling forward and hopping high into the air, planting his feet heavily into a bamboo tree and flinging himself at Verteidiger's back.
He was quickly impaled for his over-elegance.
Damnable swordsman...
His eyes slowly opened, the mental plane seemingly lost... And he gazed up at the moon.
It all seemed hopeless.
He was brought out of his revery by the telltale crunch of foot on sand. A knife was quickly brought to bear. "Show yourself."
Barely visible for his sandy-colored fur, a canid of some kind was approaching.
"... I waited here for hours, Angrei. Where the hell were you?"
"I was held up... I have much to tell you, Bronislav."
- End of Part II.
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It took me a while to come up with the idea for this one, as I still hadn't really developed the backdrop for Angrei's story. I decided to set it on a 'different perspective' type thing... Perhaps this is set long before or long after Turner's story (I haven't decided, to be honest), or it could even be concurrent, but, as you can see, I decided on the un-heard-of idea of the Wolves being the victims.
Anyhow, thoughts on this new portion of Angrei's adventure?
Anyhow, thoughts on this new portion of Angrei's adventure?
Good stuff again; you have a spare, reserved style that serves the story well.
I like the ironic use of names: the protagonist is named "Aggressor" and the antagonist is "Defender." At least he's the antagonist as far as we know.
I like you word choice in general, but "viciously messed up" clunks in my ear; it seems too slangy. Same with "nice, blood-red streak."
It's also a little redundant to say a wound is blood-red, and obviously a cliche. Perhaps "a fine, scarlet track" or something.
I like the idea of battle-meditation, allowing various tactics to be tested. It would make a fun game technique.
Watch your passive voice again: "A knife was quickly brought to bear," hardly oozes speed. "A knife filled [or appeared in] his hand," seems a faster image.
Also check on the use of ellipses; they seem to disrupt the flow to me.
Gotta go. Good job overall. Keep it coming.
I like the ironic use of names: the protagonist is named "Aggressor" and the antagonist is "Defender." At least he's the antagonist as far as we know.
I like you word choice in general, but "viciously messed up" clunks in my ear; it seems too slangy. Same with "nice, blood-red streak."
It's also a little redundant to say a wound is blood-red, and obviously a cliche. Perhaps "a fine, scarlet track" or something.
I like the idea of battle-meditation, allowing various tactics to be tested. It would make a fun game technique.
Watch your passive voice again: "A knife was quickly brought to bear," hardly oozes speed. "A knife filled [or appeared in] his hand," seems a faster image.
Also check on the use of ellipses; they seem to disrupt the flow to me.
Gotta go. Good job overall. Keep it coming.
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With the kind of criticism you give me I might actually manage to get better at writing. Up until now I've never really had anyone else to ask opinions of who knew what the f*ck they were talking about.Usagi wrote:Good stuff again; you have a spare, reserved style that serves the story well.
I like the ironic use of names: the protagonist is named "Aggressor" and the antagonist is "Defender." At least he's the antagonist as far as we know.
I like you word choice in general, but "viciously messed up" clunks in my ear; it seems too slangy. Same with "nice, blood-red streak."
It's also a little redundant to say a wound is blood-red, and obviously a cliche. Perhaps "a fine, scarlet track" or something.
I like the idea of battle-meditation, allowing various tactics to be tested. It would make a fun game technique.
Watch your passive voice again: "A knife was quickly brought to bear," hardly oozes speed. "A knife filled [or appeared in] his hand," seems a faster image.
Also check on the use of ellipses; they seem to disrupt the flow to me.
Gotta go. Good job overall. Keep it coming.
... >>; *Hugs Usagi.*
Well, us usagis gotta stick together.
Thanks for the hug, but I'm not sure it's a good idea; we might reach critical usagi mass, which would either create a BBH (Black Bunny Hole*) or instantly spawn an entire world of killer kung-fu bunnies.
And don't forget the words of Great-Souled T:
"Do not assume a seemingly wise bunny knows what the f*ck they are talking about. They may actually be a sniveling-little-rat-faced-git of an oni attempting to shift a karmic burden to your unsuspecting back."
[I thought this guy looked like your statue of the Great One.]
You're already good at writing; getting better is your burden and destiny. Remember the difference between writers and normal people: writers write.
* I'm sure Grayswandir will form a nasty mental image about this, too!
Thanks for the hug, but I'm not sure it's a good idea; we might reach critical usagi mass, which would either create a BBH (Black Bunny Hole*) or instantly spawn an entire world of killer kung-fu bunnies.
And don't forget the words of Great-Souled T:
"Do not assume a seemingly wise bunny knows what the f*ck they are talking about. They may actually be a sniveling-little-rat-faced-git of an oni attempting to shift a karmic burden to your unsuspecting back."
[I thought this guy looked like your statue of the Great One.]
You're already good at writing; getting better is your burden and destiny. Remember the difference between writers and normal people: writers write.
* I'm sure Grayswandir will form a nasty mental image about this, too!