Allamorph

[quote name='Shy][SIZE=1']Can you write a few thousand more mroe words to explain your point of view? I fail to see how your opinion is a valid one unless it's forty-pages long.[/SIZE][/quote] [FONT=Arial]Never fear! Captain Verbosity to the rescue! [QUOTE=Retribution][font=Arial]Fun fact of the day: It costs taxpayers [i][b]more[/b][/i] money to give someone the death penalty than it does to imprison them for life.[/FONT][/QUOTE] Without even reading any research on the matter, I'm inclined to agree that this is true. But I'm nuts. We all know this. So it should come as no surprise that I felt the need to read said research. [URL="http://www.deathpenaltyinfo.org/CostsDPMaryland.pdf"][COLOR="Blue"]Here's one[/COLOR][/URL]. And upon reading this research, I am forced to conclude that simply stating death penalty trials cost taxpayers more money, while undeniably true, is [I][U]grossly[/U] [U]misleading[/U][/I]. It is an appeal to the pocketbook instead of the conscience—the implication being that the result is not worth the expenditure, regardless of the "morality" of the result. I find that this concept completely trivialises the overwhelming seriousness of the death penalty. And I support the consarned thing. :p The linked research refers to Maryland's legal procedures, so my (and their) statements cannot be applied universally without slight concessions, but as I understand the research, the inflated costs are all in place to 1) ensure that such a serious action is even warranted, 2) to take as many measures as possible against mistrials and biased verdicts, and 3) to ensure that the defendant has a voice during the proceedings . . . which, really, could be looked at as part of the second, there. Essentially, we spend more money to make as certain as possible that execution is the correct way to go, and [I]not[/I] simply because we're looking to kill someone. Costs may rise even in the pretrial section of the proceedings, mostly during the process of selecting a jury (vore dire). In order to even be a juror for a death-penalty case, the potential must be willing to deal the penalty out, meaning that a person who will never apply it [I]and[/I] who will always apply it cannot be allowed. Beyond that, the prosecution is allowed to strike ten jurors, and the defense twenty (biased in favor of the life of the defendant, here), which makes the selection process quite complicated. The more time state-appointed attorneys spend here, the more money the State has to pay them. (Roman, et al 11) Trials in which the death penalty is sought tend to be longer and involve more resources than those in which it is not, most simply because the weight of the guilty verdict is so heavy. Obviously such trials will cost more money, if only because the jury must spend so much time secluded during the longer deliberations. Additionally, a defendant in a capital case is granted two attorneys instead of the customary one, so more money there. If a guilty verdict is reached, a [I]second[/I] trial is had to determine if the death sentence will be given. This additional session is necessary for determining if there are more mitigating or aggravating circumstances involved in the murder, and which weigh more. Again, more time, more money. (Roman, et al 13) The appellate stage is interesting to me because cases where death is [I]not[/I] sought have the potential to incur more costs than cases in which it is. Non-death verdicts are routed through an additional appellate circuit (in Maryland), while death verdicts are taken straight to the Maryland Court of Appeals. Still with the "time/money" bit, but now the coin is reversed. Also, the appeal to the State is automatic in death sentence cases, so the step here is unavoidable, whereas non-death cases may cost more, but they do not always have to be appealed. This step may cost more because the State Appellate has the right to expand the jurisdiction of their case if they feel that doing so may (ironically) prevent further appeals. Beyond that, appeals to US District courts or the Supreme Court are only taken if "...claims ... are federal or constitutional in nature." (Roman, et al 14) In other words, the costs are on average greater to seek the death sentence simply because the measures in place in our (or Maryland's, here) legal system exist because we recognise the sheer magnitude of taking a life at all. It could be a lot simpler—i.e., you kill a guy, you die, end of story, sucks to be you—but instead the system takes greater care in these situations to ensure that justice is truly done. One can say "if it costs more, why not do away with it entirely", but I feel that that ignores the tremendous seriousness the topic is given by the legal system. I have said previously that the Law required death for murder; the system here is the human attempt to balance the Law's callous impartiality and our sense of mercy and understanding. [LIST][*]Roman, John, et. al.,. “The Cost of the Death Penalty in Maryland”. The Urban Institute. March 2008. Retrieved 24 Jan, 2009. Website: [URL]http://www.deathpenaltyinfo.org/CostsDPMaryland.pdf[/URL] [/LIST] [CENTER]----------------[/CENTER] [QUOTE][FONT="Arial"][I]The death penalty is an attempt to balance the moral books. It has been said that when one person kills another, they too must die to "pay for it" or to "make it equal." I personally find this point of view disturbingly bloodthirsty. [/I][/FONT][/QUOTE] No, not bloodthirsty. (It only feels that way because there is, unfortunately, blood involved.) Just impartial. Unfeeling. Emotionless. There's a reason the statue of Justice has a blindfold on. And there's a reason we don't. We have the ability (and the charge, really) to temper that impartiality. Just because the Law demands it, we are not necessarily forced to mete it out. That's partially why these cases take so freaking long. :p [QUOTE][FONT="Arial"][I]Generally speaking, executing a murderer [i]does not[/i] make the victimized party feel any better.[/I][/FONT][/QUOTE] (Irony, thy name is . . . thy username.) Generally speaking, however, murderers are not executed to make the victimised party feel any better. The Law exists to maintain order and justice, not to make people feel better about being wronged. Again, callous, but like I've said before, the Law is callous. It is up to us as people to assist the recovery of those victimised. The Law remains separate. And to my mind, if someone dear to you is killed and the only thing you can think of is that the person who killed them must die, then that person's death will not appease you. Such a mindset is incredibly destructive. And you [I]certainly[/I] have no place at the court proceedings if you feel that way. [QUOTE][FONT=Arial][I]Furthermore, many states have the death penalty on the books but haven't executed a prisoner for decades. What this does is unnecessarily torment the victimized party by giving them a false hope the offender will be executed. The appeals process does indeed tear families apart emotionally, make no mistake about it. It's an unnecessary emotional roller-coaster to ride when the defendant is almost certainly going to live.[/I][/font][/QUOTE] The obvious route here to [I]me[/I] is then to place an impassible ceiling on the appellate process. There are many instances where the appellate process is merely taking advantage of the Double Jeopardy clause—by which I mean that you can be tried as many times as you want if you're guilty, but as long as you're found innocent once, that's all you need. An appeal cap would essentially say "we're willing to accommodate you so far in your quest to prove yourself, but after that we're not going to listen to you any longer". Appeals are one thing, for they allow for examination of details that might have been swept under the rug in an attempt to hasten the death verdict (which is unfairly biased). But endless appeals are a waste of time. However, I have to question the reason for your statement there. Didn't you just say that execution doesn't make the victimised party feel any better? And yet you're using here a victimised party who needs definite closure via execution. The "hope the offender will be executed" and the "unnecessary . . . when the defendant is almost certainly going to live" seem to have you contradicting your own views. Will execution make them feel better or will it not? [CENTER]----------------[/CENTER] [quote name='Nerdsy][color=deeppink']Killing anyone is wrong, no matter how you try to justify it.[/color][/quote] Okay.[/FONT]

[quote name='Nerdsy][color=deeppink']Lot's of species have been killed off. Dodos, for example.[/color][/quote] [FONT=Arial]That's a lie. I saw at least six this morning alone. ....oh you mean [I]birds[/I]. Whups. [B]Edit:[/B] Agh, I dunno. I betcha the chicken crossed the road first, though.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I think my entire thoughts can be summed up by when I posted [URL="http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?p=828837#post828837"][COLOR="Blue"]here[/COLOR][/URL]. It needs to exist. I just don't think it needs to be used every time.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I own Hellsing 1-5. That's it. 'Cause I'm poor. But still, it's Hellsing, so worth it.[/FONT]

[QUOTE=Ace][FONT="Comic Sans MS"]As of now, I'm really beginning to wonder how this death affects everyone else. I was half-thinking that Syaoran would inherit Fye's magical eye at the end there, but that's also the only means Fye has of getting off his addiction to Kurogane blood. there's also the possibility of it just dying with him, and.... Crap, CLAMP just likes to keep you guessing, don't they?[/FONT][/QUOTE] [FONT=Arial]The biggest issue to me is his bequeathing of the feathers. Did he store them in the magic itself? And if so, will they separate when they reunite with Sakura, or will Fai need to sacrifice that again to allow her soul to fully reintegrate? And soon we will know (probably) who Fei Wong wants to resurrect.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Told ya the clone was toast. Also HOMG FAI GETS HIS MAGIC BACK MAYBE PLZ IHOPE IHOPE IHOPE. Although vampire-Fai is cool, this might be more awesome. And color pages forthcoming! [I]*throws Boo-confetti*[/I][/FONT]

Because you're it's a waste of our time. The purpose of this thread is to argue. Not to learn, not to understand, not to be any more enlightened. To argue. But you can do that any old place, right?

[CENTER] [IMG]http://fc79.deviantart.com/fs11/i/2006/170/0/2/Lackadaisy_Sordid_Sniffles_by_tracyjb.jpg[/IMG] [/CENTER]

Preliminary Comments Hooray for the double-posting system, I guess. :p It does work well for post-manuscript comments. Right, so this is basically a rough to see if I can portray the species well. (For those who don't know quite yet, these people are generally referred to [in about four or five thousand years from the point of this narrative] as allamorphs, and they are from where I take my screenname. Animal characteristics are mixed in, but I always feel like I'm walking a fine line between tasteful and anthro.) Other criticism (syntax, style, what have you) is always appreciated, but since I don't know anything about this scene other than what I wrote, and certainly don't intend to include it in any major section of narrative, that kind of stuff will only be noted; the sketch itself is a draft with one transcription into Word where I did some minor edits/revisions, and then pulled a second minor edit/revision session just a few minutes ago, but it will probably not be polished further. Anyway, near as I can figure, these people divide themselves into four groups: Falcons, Cats, Wolves, and Bears. Really I had expected a general grouping for Dogs, but seems Wolves and Bears don't like to be lumped together. After that, they seem to identify based on species type—which is basically identical to ours because I'm just going ahead and having this world develop a common tongue almost exactly like English. At the time of this scene's writing, the different groups mingle a lot more freely than they do at the main point of my narrative for this world. In fact, after the Great Extermination and the flight of the allamorphs, they broke into sects and almost completely disassociated from each other, and the Falcons are almost impossible to find. Took me from about Friday afternoon until Monday morning to finish?with breaks, of course. Gears of War 2 is awesome. I got into doing the sketch basically because, what with me being a music [education] major for the past two years, I've been lamenting not having worked on my own universe for the entire time I've been at college. Now that I'm out (and into MechE, WOOO), I have considerably more free time. I could have gone and delved into some of the future stuff, I thought, but I've been more interested recently in building and exploring the past of my 'verse, and I've done almost nothing at all in the way of working with the actual allamorph species. Guess what I spent all Sunday afternoon staring at? Exhibit A, Exhibit B. That said, Drannet's eyes are freaky as heck.

A lone hawk soared in the summer sky. A dark silhouette drifting on the sun-warmed currents, it was the sole blemish on the blue welkin, left dazzlingly clear after the morning fog had burned away. Now the plains over which the hawk flew were cast in a brilliant midday light, and the shadows, thrown on the plains by the occasional stand of trees or herd of gazelle, were just starting to lengthen One of these herds was below the hawk now, grazing by the tree line on the plain?s edge. Now and again a watchful beast would raise its head and cast about for any nearby threats, returning to its feeding after satisfying itself that there were none. The bird gliding above them was paid little heed. The wind carried the hawk over the herd, and it banked lazily, circling around for another pass. Large even for a bird of prey, it was colored a dull, earthy brown, save for its red tail-feathers. A long gash of a scar marred the lighter feathers of the hawk?s breast, an ugly jagged line that stretched to just under the bird?s left wing. Its dark brown eyes, lit fiercely from within, were locked intently on the herd. The tercel had been following the gazelles for a fair part of the morning. Floating high enough to avoid spooking the herd?s sentries, it had carefully watched their movements, picking out the sickly and weak and waiting for a good moment to strike. As the herd eased itself into a hollow in the tree line, the hawk sensed the moment approaching and, gathering itself, drifted to just above the herd?s outer edge. In the blink of an eye the hawk became a dark-haired man prostrate in the air. He whipped a simple bow off of his shoulder; no longer supported by the currents, the man fell swiftly to the earth. Snatching three arrows from the quiver at his back, he nocked them all and, sighting as he plummeted, he fired them into the herd?s trailing edge. Two of the arrows buried themselves in the earth, the startled gazelles nearest them shying instantly. The lucky third struck one beast in the neck, and its scream threw the herd into a panic. As they began to race to the open plain, the falling man let out a shout, reverting to a hawk with barely a man?s height to spare, his wings beating furiously to regain the air. His cry and sudden appearance balked the nearest gazelles, and in their turmoil half of them tried to reverse themselves, stumbling over the others who had not seen the man. A cougar, also much larger than normal, burst from the trees in full charge. Now the herd fled in earnest, scattering in terror to the grassland?but the hawk?s surprise had done its work, and the cougar had already tackled one unfortunate beast and taken off in pursuit of a second. The grounded gazelle fought for its footing, but had hardly gained its balance when another arrow sank into its heart, and it collapsed back to the earth. The dark-haired man, who had landed some distance to left, began retrieving his arrows in silence, plucking the first and second from the plain, then standing and looking for the beast he had struck earlier. It too lay dead farther off, having clung to life long enough to see the cat break from the forest and to run for a second or two before succumbing to its wound. The man, bare-chested save for the leather strap of his quiver, saw that his shot had pierced through his prey?s neck; he?d have to cut it free, meaning the arrow was lost. He would salvage the head, of course, and attach it to another, but the shaft itself was worthless now. The man scratched absently at the scar on his chest, an old wound from a fight he never should have had. Fitting that he should carry the reminder the rest of his life, he thought, tracing its path to his left armpit with an almost stroking motion. The injury had got infected and had taken over a week to heal?and had not healed completely. He was fortunate that it had not been his strong arm, though his speed-draw had been affected at first. It had taken a few months to relearn a few of his old skills. He was a well-toned man, like most of the men of his aerie, and of modest stature. His face was long, but not gaunt?though his nose did hook over, curved almost like a beak. His eyes, too, were like those of the hawk he had been, each a large ring of deep brown set in black, and the peculiar absence of eye-white only intensified the fierceness of his gaze. Even stranger was the man?s hair. At a distance it appeared dark, but on approach it was clearly mottled, a scattered mix of cinnamon and white everywhere except for the hair at the back of his neck. There it suddenly became a dusty red, and was allowed to grow a little longer than the rest. By contrast, the downy hair of his chest was so fair to be almost invisible. If it were not for his scar, only those of keen eye would have noticed the down at all; nothing grew around the unsightly blemish. From the waist down the man appeared as any other hunter, wearing long, thick-spun pants and well-crafted but worn leather shoes. A thick-bladed wood knife hung from his belt, along with various other tools a man of his trade might want. He stooped by the second beast and tore his arrow free. Drawing a cloth from a pocket at his waist, he wiped the head clean, inspected it, and returned it to his quiver. When he straightened and turned around, he found a sandy-haired woman smirking at him, her morning?s prize resting on her shoulders. She cocked her head to one side.[/pindent] "We have a problem,? she informed him, her smile brightening. She stood about half a head below the man, her features soft and rounded and her cheeks dotted with freckles. Here eyes were all faded-green iris around two vertical black-slits, and she looked out from under a slender brow with a self-assurance that, combined with her casual posture, projected an air of passive arrogance. She wore a leather jerkin over a plain white cotton shirt whose sleeves ended halfway down her forearm, comfortable pants, and well-traveled, dusty leather shoes. Her slim hands grasped her slain gazelle by the ankles. Traces of blood were smudged by the corner of her lips, left over from the kill. The man eyed her, then darted a look around the plain. "We do?" "Mm-hmm!" The woman shifted her weight to her left leg, but declined to elaborate. Instead she waited while the man salvaged his remaining arrow and hauled the gazelle?s carcass back. Dropping the beast by the other, he looked up to her expectantly, then to her catch and back to her. He made a motion at his face. "You've got something...." The woman frowned and rubbed at the side of her mouth with a knuckle. Discovering the smudge, she wet the back of her hand with her tongue and wiped the blood away, washing her hand and finger clean. Her eyes sparkled mischievously, but she revealed nothing further. The man surveyed their catch. Two elderly but still appetizing males (one rested on the woman's shoulders), and a female in her prime. A very good catch, he decided. Not exceptional, but certainly good. Perhaps, he thought, if Naeir had been well enough to come with them.... He sighed. "What problem do we have?" he asked, relenting. "And why are you so pleased about it if it is one?" The woman let out a satisfied giggle. "We have three kills today," she said happily. "Yes." The woman waited a moment for her companion to continue, or at least indicate he understood. When he did not, her brow furrowed and she tilted her head. "There are only two of us, Drannet." Her tone was reproving; she had expected him to be as pleased with their 'predicament' as she. She should have known better. Her companion rarely showed any sort of excitement. She knew he felt it occasionally; she had seen his eyes glitter with pleasure on feasting days, or with anger, as they had when his second son had been caught harassing one of the Wolf cubs. But she was always hard-pressed to pull such feelings out into the open. Even for a Red-Tail he was reserved. "Sticks," he was saying. His eyes were already scanning the trees for suitable branches. "We've carried our prey on them before. There's no reason we can't today." The woman huffed. "You and Naeir are about the same height, though. Won't this make the burden uneven?" Drannet looked her over out of the corner of his eye. "Are you saying you can't handle a little extra weight?" he inquired, arching an eyebrow. "I am a Cat," she sniffed haughtily. "I could out-lift you any day. But," she continued when he turned away, "we still only have two sets of shoulders." The Red-Tail sighed. "We will tie one between the staves. Then we can also remember which beast is yours." He turned an impatient stare full on her. "Will that appease you, cantankerous woman?" "Of course it will," she snickered. "Clever, clever Drannet. Always thinking of me." In a single easy motion she swung her gazelle over her head and thumped it onto the ground. "Now go and make your sticks. I'm hungry." Drannet caught her arm as she stooped to change. "Restrain yourself—at least until we return," he added hastily. "We hunt for many, not just ourselves." "It's my kill!" she exclaimed, affecting a hurt expression. It lasted a fleeting moment, though, chased away by her devilish grin. "Besides, I only want a haunch." She shoved him playfully. "Go. I don't want to be on the plains in the heat."

[FONT=Arial][COLOR=DarkRed]Matt[/COLOR] and I share the same sentiments. HOWEVER, I [I]would[/I] like to point out that were it McCain being sworn in with the same degree of hoopla, I would be saying the same thing. Now then. I do understand the security beef-up because unfortunately some people are still stupid about skin color. I [I]can[/I] understand the need for big-screen TVs all over the place for the people who attended the parade and can't get close enough to the actual ceremony to witness it?but then again I wonder why you just didn't watch the parade from your house. (Some people enjoy pageantry, I have no use for it, to-may-to, to-mah-to.) I . . . don't really understand the concert. I am, however, extremely disappointed that I don't have access to a television. I did want to watch the inauguration myself. :animesigh[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial][B]Boo[/B] Why? BECAUSE. And besides, I think he has the corner market on frownie-humor. He's like a comedy wearing a tragedy mask.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Well, see, there's the thing. We haven't seen Fei Wong's name used in at least three chapters now, which is about two months, ish. So that means that the "wang" came from-a YOU guys. [I]*grin*[/I] I was merely expressing my righteous indignation. [I]*snobbish pose*[/I] I mean, heck, wasn't it two pages ago when I Colbert'd his name? I distinctly remembered there being a crapload of Os in that line. :p AANyway. Moar Tsubasa now, plzkthx.[/FONT]

[QUOTE=Mykul][B]My name is probably Michael. I do not participate in the Otaku Portfolio. Archistrategos is a word that I like. And I am a scrub with just over 200 posts.[/B][/QUOTE] [FONT=Arial]Sounds like an AA meeting. Right-O! [B]My name is . . . really cryptic, and means shapeshifter. So ha. I DO participate in the Otaku Portfolio. My vocabulary is antiquated and my mindset and values old-fashioned, so I refer to myself now and again as the Last of the Old Guard . . . . wait, that was the other title. Bother. And . . . I don't even frilling know how many posts I have. It's a number. I post and it goes up. :p[/B] Really? I'on't care. You an ancient board denizen who is proud of the many posts you have contributed over the years? I'on't care. You got basically bupkus? I'on't care. You wanna get up in arms about it 'cause it looks kinda tacky? I'on't care. Whatevs, man, makes no nevermind ta me.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Right, guys, I know this is a bit arbitrary and picayune, but.... ....it's Fei WONG. WONG. Not "wang". That's a bad thing to talk about, at least where I grew up. >_>[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Ireland (Gavin) versus Wales (Andrew), Spy vs Spy style. No winner. Let's see some funny.[/FONT]

[quote name='Ace][FONT="Comic Sans MS"']Eh, that looks more like a sky-kitten strip.[/FONT][/quote] [FONT=Arial][I]*immediately thinks of [U]Sky Kitten and the World of Tomorrow[/U][/I]*[/FONT]

[quote name='Mr. Blonde']Actually it [U]is[/U] three, not four.[/quote] [font=Arial]Actually, it is [i]not[/i]. Not at the end. The ellipsis must be followed by the final punctuation at the end of a sentence. With question marks and exclamation points the form is obvious, but if the sentence ends in a period, the period makes the fourth dot. E.g.: [/font][list] [*]This is the end...! [*]This is the end...? [*]This is the end.... [/list]

[FONT=Arial]Despite the forfeit of three opponents, and the resultant lack of need to vote, I still feel the remaining competitors deserve some feedback. I have something I want you to look at, [COLOR="DarkRed"]chibi-master[/COLOR]: [QUOTE=Mykul]In the 1920s, Ernest Hemingway bet a group of colleagues $10 that he could write a story in only 6 words. His story- [B]"For sale: baby shoes, never worn."[/B][/QUOTE] This quote was from the earlier 6-Fiction thread that [COLOR="DarkRed"]Mykul[/COLOR] started, and exemplifies the idea behind the challenge. Your entries are not bad, in that they do tell a story, but the story is very limited in scope. Hemingway constructed something that not only told of a single event, but also told of the events leading up to that event [I]and[/I] the extraordinary emotions felt by those involved in the event. The point is, next time try to go [I]beyond[/I] merely Anthony being killed by his dentist. Try to find a way to express something more, something beyond the single event. [I]Anthony disappeared, last seen by dentist.[/I] Nowhere near Hemingway's accomplishment, but there is a touch more there. It's all in the variations. You took the concepts fine. But give them time to ruminate, to grow. Good luck in the next round![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Despite the forfeit of three opponents, and the resultant lack of need to vote, I still feel the remaining competitors deserve some feedback. When I began reading your short, [COLOR="DarkRed"]Anomaly[/COLOR], I was immediately struck by the "startlingly clean" nails. Not that I mean you had my attention. You had my [I]confusion[/I]. Now, I can understand fingernails being extraordinarily clean. But at that point, at the very first sentence in the narrative, what reason is there that their cleanliness should be so startling? We have nothing else with which to compare them. We don't even know what Tyler has been doing that might suggest his nails should [I]not[/I] be clean. You kind of touched on that later, but I didn't feel satisfied with what I felt was a token explanation, a nod of recognition at something that needed clarifying. Aside from that, I felt you portrayed both characters quite well. I find it a shame that [COLOR="DarkRed"]Mr. Maul[/COLOR] declined to enter, for I think he would have given you a fair competition, but he would not have been able to half-effort his entry either. Well done, and good luck in the next round![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Despite the forfeit of three opponents, and the resultant lack of need to vote, I still feel the remaining competitors deserve some feedback. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Sabrina[/COLOR], the concept is interesting, but . . . what happened? There are so many directions one could go from where you stopped, so many emotions and sentiments on either side, that when we reach the end all the man's line is all we are given, the most we can do is go ". . . eh?" When you construct a work within such a limited space, it is imperative to lead the reader into the conclusion you want them to see. Ambiguity is only part of the effect; the other half is the realisation, and there is none at the end of yours. All we can tell is that the man is disappointed, and possibly out of patience. If you feel you need more room to communicate what you want to say, look back and see what you might write in less words for the same impact. Simplicity and efficiency are the necessary tools for reaching your end here. Good luck in the next round![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Critique to follow, in posting order. Voting below. [CENTER][hr]75[/hr][/CENTER] [COLOR="DarkRed"]Vicky[/COLOR], doozie of a concept. This short exemplifies the fun of writing to me: taking a concept, as simple as it may be, and finding a way to pull a story out of it, to build an instance around it. I was worried for a moment that you might have a decent idea but not good follow-through, but I was wrong; good attention to tenses. You had one glitch in the Jay Harrison's dialect. One "-ing" that managed to make it through intact. That, and maybe leaving the T off of "don't" would add to the effect. Sure, you can say "it's overlookable", but not striving for perfection when you know you're capable of attaining it is almost as unforgivable as saying perfection is impossible. Watch your ellipses. Four periods at the ends of sentences, not three. [QUOTE][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]?Don?t cry.? He whispers to me.[/FONT][/QUOTE] Snag here, too. Either comma after "cry", or say "He whispers it to me." Either way works. Other than that, I . . . . really don't have anything to say to you. Very nice piece. [CENTER][hr]75[/hr][/CENTER] [COLOR="DarkRed"]Mr. Blonde[/COLOR]: A suicide letter. Interesting choice, and insightful. The tone bothers me. Eloquency aside, it is not despairing or fatalistic, but detached and disconnected. Musing, almost. Is that what one feels before they take their life? Or is it a supposition? To me, the actual fervor is irrelevant; one might be agitated to the point of panic or simply tired and weary, but in whatever case I feel the despair would be the pervading influence. I don't get that from this letter. I get merely disillusionment. Take that as you will, though, for again that is just [I]my[/I] supposition. I know about as much of being suicidal as any other un-suicidal person, honestly. And while I question why a person would end their life out of boredom [I]with[/I] life (which is the predominant sentiment I get out of the letter), I can't say for certain. To other ends, reread your work carefully. Twice at least just after you've written it, but at least a few more times after you've walked away for a day or so. Time, I have found, is the best editor's assistant. It'll help catch the one or two misspellings that slip through because you see what you meant to write, and not what you actually wrote; or alert you to instances where you might have gone too heavy on a particular effect?like the single-quotes, for instance. [CENTER][hr]75[/hr][/CENTER] Here again, both entrants constructed their pieces very well. I could speak to the numerous similarities or counterpoints that should make this decision hard, but when I get to the deciding factor, the rest is rinsed away by its simplicity. The difference is [U]unique[/U]. [B]Vicky[/B].[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Critique to follow, in posting order. Voting below. [CENTER][hr]75[/hr][/CENTER] [COLOR="DarkRed"]Rexikat XVI[/COLOR]: Very nice job of delving into the main character's mind. I felt almost everything he felt, save for a brief moment at the end, and that, in a short story, is the priority, I think. You don't get the same relaxed amount of time to explore the character's emotions in a short story as you do in a novel—a concept on which I'm still working. :p Now and then a few of your metaphors and descriptions went awry, but that, I think, can be attributed to not hearing your sketch as you constructed it. Here, lemme show you.... [QUOTE][FONT="Lucida Sans Unicode"]But deep inside, he couldn’t deny the truth, [COLOR="Red"][B]could he[/B][/COLOR]. He knew the truth, as much as he wished he didn’t. Rising to his feet and stumbling blindly forward, [COLOR="Red"][B]the building[/B][/COLOR] crumbled around him as he searched for his friends and fellow soldiers, [COLOR="Red"][B]echoing the destruction he felt inside[/B][/COLOR].[/FONT][/QUOTE] First, the "could he" takes away from the impact. If you ditch it, the feeling of inescapable shock and despair is intensified because you're saying that he [I]can't[/I] deny it. It isn't possible. With that "could he", you're prompting the reader to answer the question for him, and that pulls them back into themselves and their objective normalcy, and out of whatever the character is feeling. Second, that's a misplaced modifier; now you have the building as the one rising to his feet and stumbling, and that makes no sense. :p Just a simple rewrite would fix it. [INDENT][I]Rising to his feet, [B][U]he[/U] stumbled[/B] blindly forward, the building [B]crumbling[/B] around him....[/I][/INDENT] On top of that, I'm not entirely sure how one feels destruction. Desolation, sure, and also devastation, because one can feel desolate and devastated. But one cannot feel destructed. Destroyed, but not destructed. I could point out a few others, but you should be able to spot them on a reread. Nicely done. [CENTER][hr]75[/hr][/CENTER] [COLOR="DarkRed"]Blayze[/COLOR], your scene was gorgeous. Absolutely brimming with intricate detail. I dare say it's your strong point. With that said, now and again it felt a bit thick, like you were going almost out of your way to cram another bit of color into the image you were painting. And while that isn't necessarily bad, it can cause readers to choke and start skipping around. I mean, a person can only stand in one room for so long before they either need some history about the room, or they need to get out of the room. One detail before the biggie. You were writing about an American, ja? If you're doing that, I'd almost say to use the American spelling of words, so the reader doesn't feel like they're sitting in Beverly Hills and a random Brit walks by in an overcoat, a derby, and a mutton-chop beard. :p I'm referring to "lustreless", of course; nothing wrong with it, it just gave me a locational turn. Now. I said your story was pretty. And it was. It was a magnificent scene. And there's the problem. It's a [I]scene[/I]. You allowed yourself to become so focused on the outer detail that you forgot the inner. Only at the very end did the reader get the barest glimpse into the man's soul—and don't get me wrong, I understand you wanted to save the revelation of what he was until the very end. But that was all you showed us. You didn't look at who he was now; just the outer symptoms. Point is, I couldn't empathise. And I think this scene would have worked much better in a novel setting, for then you would have had the leisure to work out more bits and pieces of his being as you went. But not here. Here you have so long to connect, and then the window is gone. Also, [I]"...a feeling which he had not felt...."[/I] is redundant. :p [CENTER][hr]75[/hr][/CENTER] Interesting that, when given free reign of the topic, both entrants dealt with variations on despair.... Excellent efforts on both competitor's sides. Very good detail, very good nuances. I'd be wary that the nuances don't threaten to overtake the piece next time; in fact, I'd suggest trying to write a short with as little adjectives as possible, and no adverbs at all, to see if you can create the same detailed environment or if it forces you to delve into deeper material. To that end, though [COLOR="DarkRed"]DeLarge[/COLOR]'s piece was superior in detail, the other captured the character. [B]Rexikat XVI[/B][/FONT]

Critique to follow, in order of posting. Voting below. =============================================================== I actually don't have a whole lot to say to you here, Shy. The attitudes and personalities of all three of the characters were not only believable, but I was able to empathise with them easily without relying on logic or projection. I quite enjoyed the little motherly-minded details you snuck in?did everyone's mother have a crusade against runny noses? :p?and while the situation was almost absurd, the way you played the narrator made it seem completely reasonable. Couple of minor notes:

[CENTER][IMG]http://images.icanhascheezburger.com/completestore/2009/1/16/128766381947705347.jpg[/IMG][/CENTER]