Lee's Island, Part 5

(Part 1 is here.)

Part 5: in which passage of time just kind of happens and Lee is the only one who can save the day.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rock Lee walked through the forest. "Hmm, I need some sort of container. Maybe a leaf? No, that might absorb the water. Hmm, what could I use? Maybe tree bark? Yes, that will work." Lee said, beginning to search for the right shape of tree bark. A little later, he found the perfect one.

"Yes! This will definitely work! Now all I need to do is get some seawater!" Lee, with a sturdy hold on the bark, ran towards the shoreline. He scooped some water into it and walked to the others, who were not far away.

"Here it is!"

"Great! That'll work perfectly! Just set it on this little grid of sticks. Do it gently, though. We don't want it to break."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Lee set the bark bowl down on the sticks and TenTen placed three of the fish she and Sakura had caught. A loud sizzling sound came from the bowl as the fish broiled. "It smells really good," Naruto said.

"Sure does!" The sizzling sound quieted. "Okay, guys, these are ready! Go ahead and take your pick and I'll cook the next three." Naruto and Rock Lee quickly grabbed two of them. "TenTen, you go ahead. I'll cook the next ones for you," Sakura said. "Thanks," TenTen said, fetching the third fish. Later, the four were finished. "Man, I'm bushed," Sakura said. "I'm going to sleep. Who takes first shift?"

"I'll do it."

"Okay, TenTen, go ahead." Sakura yawned. "See you in a couple of hours."

"See ya," the others said in unison. Sakura walked into the tent. "Okay, there's nothing left to do. I shall go ahead and sleep, too. See you later!" Lee followed Sakura into the leafshod tent. "Okay, this is boring. See ya, TenTen." Naruto ran into the tent.

"Night, guys."

"Naruto!" Sakura yelled. It was her shift, and she was being attacked.

Naruto groaned, rubbing his eyes. "What?" he mumbled, obviously aggravated from being waken up so early. "Naruto!" This time Sakura added a scream. "Sakura? Are you okay?" He ran out into the morning. Sakura wasn't there. "Sakura!" Naruto ran into the trees nearby, hoping to find her. He did.

Sakura was crouched against a tree, trying desperately to defend herself. She looked incredibly beaten up. In front of her was the ninja she had encountered earlier. "Now I can have a little sweet revenge! Where is she for the last time?!"

"I won't tell you!"

"You'd better tell me!" The boy held his Demon Wind shuriken at her neck. "Now talk!" Suddenly a kunai whizzed by him. "Looks like I came just in time! Believe it!" Naruto said.

"You annoying little brat!" yelled the other boy. "If you think you can save her, you're wrong! Besides," he said, holding his giant shuriken a little closer to Sakura's neck, "I have the upper hand here! One move and the girl dies!" Sakura gave a little whimper. "You'd better back away from Sakura!"

"Or what?"

"Or you'll take a beating, that's what!" The other ninja grinned. "Why don't you try?"

"Glad to! Believe it!" Naruto drew another kunai and ran towards the kidnapper. "Your weapons won't work! Metal Repel Jutsu!" he said, making a couple of hand signs. Naruto immediately fell back. "What the?" The ninja chuckled. "Since you're holding something made of metal, you can't touch me! You can't throw anything at me either!"

"And you didn't do this before because..."

"Um, heh?" Naruto groaned. What kind of idiot is this guy? he thought. "Well, whatever! I don't need kunai! Believe it!" He rushed at the ninja, his arm back and ready for a punch. The grass ninja jumped up just barely enough to dodge his attack. Suddenly, when the ninja made his descent, Naruto started to move back, nudged by invisible hands.

"What the? I don't have any kunai! How is it still working?!" The grass ninja cackled a bit. "It appears you have a zipper on your clothes; that's enough to not let you touch me!" All of a sudden, a whoosh came from behind them. "Huh? What was that?" Then a figure came, its outlines blurred by its speed, and knocked the grass ninja fifteen feet away.

"Lee!" Sakura yelled, relieved. The grass ninja quickly got up. "What? You have your headband on! How could you get to me?!" Lee replied, "It was really not that hard. All I had to do was build up enough speed and I got through your defenses." Is he really THAT fast?! thought the grass ninja. He backed away, stunned. "Sakura, could you hold this for a minute?" said Rock Lee, who had taken his headband off of his waist and extended it towards Sakura. "This way I will not have to waste any time building up speed."

"Sure." Sakura took Lee's headband, an instant before Lee darted towards the grass ninja. When he got there--in a matter of seconds--he kicked the ninja in the stomach, knocking him out of sight. "Go, Lee!" Sakura yelled. Rock Lee now stood before her. "May I have my headband back now, Sakura?"

"Okay, sure," she said, returning it to Lee. "Thanks," he said, wrapping it once again around his waist. "Can we get something to eat? I am starved!" Sakura giggled. "Alright, we'll get some food! Let's go find TenTen. She'll be able to catch some fish for us." The three ninja set off.

Just Look Here

It comes to my attention during revision that I overuse quite a few words. Ignoring articles and conjunctions, which shouldn't be an issue if I don't keep repeating the same sentence structure, the worst offenders are "just" and "look."

"Just" is tricky—it sort of adds a vague limit to the sentence, and it's hard to get rid of without getting an uncomfortable twinge. The best trick seems to be unanimously deleting them in editing without paying attention to the context and then adding it back in if I notice it missing. "Quite" and "a bit" are in the same boat.

"Look" gets overused because it's more vague than some other verbs. If I try to plug in synonyms, it doesn't always work for me. It doesn't help that I use it as a verb and a noun all of the time.

This isn't exactly a comprehensive list. It's hard to figure out how much each kind of word should be used. The "glue" that's necessary for correct usage of the English language in general can't be skipped, but exactly how "invisible" is each word? "Said" can be used often and is indeed recommended more than its relatives, but is it the only non-copula verb of its type? How invisible is "look"? "Just"? Others?

More Words To Use and Love

Since the first post didn't quite cover all of my pretty words, I've decided to make a second. The list still isn't comprehensive, but here's more of it.

pelagic                                   versicolor                                    exordium
simper                                    fulgurant                                    violescent
velleity                                   assoil                                          couthie
fabulist                                   parturient                                    hypnopompic
vigorish                                 splendiferous                               kibitzer
ramose                                   quid                                            brabble
rollick                                    troth                                            intemerate
spleenful                                balsamaceous                             word-hoard
celadon                                  erinaceous                                  plotz
Tartuffery                              mulligrubs                                  wellaway
sententious                             cruciverbalist                              jackanapes
austral                                    adiaphorous                                atavistic
tardigrade                               apopemptic                                irrefrangible
draggle                                   fastigiate                                     lollapalooza

Sharing is Caring

Some of you may have noticed that, on a quite a few of my fiction and fan fiction ideas, I've put up a notice that someone else is free to try it out. My father is staunch in his belief that such a thing will inevitably lead to someone taking my idea and making millions off it. (If they can, power to them. It's better than I would do, anyway.)

Yet I've also heard that posting ideas publicly helps to enforce that they belong to me. With all of the other posts I put out here, it would be hard to argue that a posted story idea was actually posted after someone else started writing that story—even if I can change one timestamp, it's obvious whenabouts I posted that idea.

At the same time, I'm posting all of my Fragments, which are so little and vague anyone could take one and slip it in without drawing suspicion. And that's okay. I've already taken an idea from a friend and then given it back to her. I don't mind. Just because these thoughts entered my brain doesn't mean I have irrefutable claims to them, or responsibilities to write them. It just means I had an idea that I can treat however I please.

As I just mentioned, I take ideas from others. Of course I do! There aren't really any new ideas; it's just the combinations. And if I use ideas from others, why shouldn't others get to use ideas from me? Half of them they'd find elsewhere, anyway; I just thought it would be nice to get them all in one place.

Basically, writing is more of a social occupation that it seems like it should be. I could probably lock myself in my room and just ideas from other books—and indeed I will do this—but that's not enough. I have to get a few ideas from living my life, and, still, that's not quite interesting enough to get me all the material I need for an original piece, anyway (considering I do, in fact, prefer to lock myself in my room all of the time). So I get a few ideas from others' lives and the stories they've read. We bounce all of our ideas off each other, and both of us can come out of it with stories that never would have occurred to us otherwise. Maybe there is some competition when it comes to publishing and such, but writing to me just seems like a team sport.

What do you think? Enjoy sharing your ideas? Enjoy seeing others'?

New Fiction Idea #41

This was just a vague setting based off a dinner conversation until Lola suddenly showed up, casually hanging upside-down via a bungee cord tied around one ankle and slicing open her hand, commenting on how warm the blood was.

Working Title: Bad Blood

Genre: Dystopian

Protagonists: Greg, an AB+ 16-year-old with dark, curly hair. Born and raised in the underbelly of his city, he's quite relaxed about robbery and such since society made him do it. He's muscular but underfed, short for his age, and has a thing scar along the left side of his jaw.
Lola, an A- 16-year-old of mixed European, Indian, and Chinese heritage. She's slender but toned and dresses in a punk lolita style that exposes a lot more skin than would be considered modest or prudent (given that robbing her of blood would be a lot easier).

Other Main Characters: Metra, Greg's (AB+) drug-addicted mother. She's kind when she's aware of anything, but she either can't or won't work.
Vincent (O+) and Abbey (O-), Lola's best friends. A gang of punks, they don't do much that would harm others, but they're political outcriers as well as adrenaline junkies. They have a pact to bury each other blood and all if anything happens, and they've already done this to Matt (B-), a former member of the pack who died in a group cliff-jumping escapade.

Antagonist: Basically everyone else, to varying degrees.

Setting: A dystopia where blood is currency, O- being the most valuable. Other types have begun to dwindle but still make up a good third of the population, and AB types are generally avoided or born in poverty.

Plot: Greg tries hard to survive no matter what it takes; Lola somewhat tries to survive but is more interested in sabotaging "the system" and daredevilling with her friends. Both find themselves caught up in a very illegal black market system and, deciding it's much better than what the government deems legal tender, seek to make it the real market. Their paths will cross at a few points, but, for the most part, they're followed independently.

Point of View: Third-person, limited to Greg and Lola at different times/chapters.

Still very hazy, especially plot-wise, and the twin protagonists bit may be difficult to pull off, but it interests me.

The Unemployment Line

Just because I don't write a certain story doesn't mean the characters will never see the light of day. In fact, a lot of the time I come up with a setting long before I know who's in it, and in times like this, I take a look at some of my "abandoned" characters to fill the void.

For example, the current cast of New Fiction Idea #40 consists of Cahokia and Axum from Man in the Blade and Dobson and Crick from Mount. Given the totally different universe, they're not precisely their old selves, but what fun would it be if they were?

In another vein, I've taken fan characters for fan fictions and turned them into fantastic creatures for OCTs. How would this character react to having powers? What powers would fit this one? What powers would be the worst for this other one?

It's really quite similar to writing Alternate Universe fan fiction—take a character from one place, put them in another, and see how much changes or stays the same. It may seem a bit like cheating or copying, but there are only so many character traits out there. Why try to put together an entirely new set every time when you can just take an old friend or archetype and tweak it?

And some of my characters are just too dear to me to be left behind altogether. If I can't write them in their original setting, why shouldn't I pick them up and put them somewhere else? I think they deserve a place in my stories outside of my head, and I'll try not to make them wait in line too long.

How about you? Copy-pasting any characters of your own?

Mayflies, Chapter Six

Well, not the whole chapter, but at least a bit of it. This is still only an unrevised version, but I thought it might be nice to leave a little update on this story for you. It's coming along at about 170 words a day, so, not that quickly, but that only means I don't have to feel like I need a lot of energy to work on it.

Anyway! Enjoy this bit from Matthew's POV.

(Also, I'm sure Julian will soften up eventually, but he's awfully fun to write.)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

We manage to collapse in Julian’s main room before our wings burst from our backs. As I’m spread out face-down, the extra weight seems to crush in on my panting lungs, but a cold tingle of relief passes through me. How did I ever hold these in?

I can’t hear the footfalls over my breathing, but Julian steps in and peers down at us. He checks the doorway for pursuers before sighing and sitting down nearby. 

“Did you make it?” he asks.

“Barely,” I croak.

My brother pushes himself up, although his breathing is no more quiet than mine. “Three fish,” he says, pushing the purchase towards the scribe. “We were going to get some avocados, too, but we couldn’t stay long enough to haggle.”

Julian frowns a bit more. “So that’s all you got?”

Jonathan nods, sitting up straighter. “We didn’t spend all of the beads—”

“You spent too many,” the scribe snaps, although neither of us has shown him our change yet. My brother and I stare at him blankly as we catch our breath.

“What?” Jonathan finally starts.

“Why on earth did you get something you have to cook?” Julian squints at the wrapped fish, scuffing his foot as if to kick dirt over them. “Were you really so confident you’d be able to hide those wings long enough to stay outside and tend to a fire?”

My brother and I exchange a look. I had not thought that far ahead. We haven’t bought or otherwise taken fish in a long time. On occasion we’ve caught them ourselves, but we were always far enough in the wilderness we didn’t worry any more than usual about being caught. I hadn’t thought about how we would cook these. We certainly won’t be starting a fire inside the house—I’m sure we could keep it contained, but I don’t want to risk burning Julian’s house down, especially with all of his books—and there could easily be people passing by outside.

With an exasperated grunt, the scribe swoops down and scoops the fish off the floor. “I don’t know how much presence of mind it takes to operate those wings, but do try to catch up with the rest of us in the way of common sense.” He stomps towards the doorway. “I’ll go out and cook the stupid things so I didn’t waste my money on you. Idiots!”

Without another look back at us, he flits outside and beyond our range of vision. My brother and I sit for a minute, finally breathing normally but speechless nevertheless.

“Is it too late to apologize?” I eventually start, stretching out my wings. They feel awfully cramped. Where exactly have they been jammed this whole time?

“I doubt he’ll think any better of us if we do.” Jonathan sighs, pulling in a wing to lie on his side. “We can definitely thank him, though.”