Asterisk (My New WIP)
Nimran
Member Posts: 4,875
So, yeah, I've had a new story idea swimming around in my head for a while, and I thought I'd share it here. Unlike my other story thread, the story and characters are new and fresh, so I should be more inclined to finish this one. 
. Anyway, my reasons for not continuing the first one still remain an issue. I may not be able to post very frequently due to data usage problems, but I've gotten that familiar itch to write something now, sooo...
The sun shone brightly over the western horizon, ready to dip beneath the thin line of grass that rose up ever so slightly from the border between land and sky. It was a peaceful scene, devoid of harsh winds or noises that harassed the senses, much to the relief of a solitary figure standing at the foot of a gently sloping hill, his body silhouetted against the bright rays as he stared to the south, toward a massive, yet dilapidated structure, a tower that had decayed over centuries of disuse, its walls crumbling beneath their own weight. It was a familiar sight to the young man. His clear, violet eyes shone from beneath a black hood as he pondered the site before him. Was the object that he was looking for there? What would he find within those walls that he had studied for so long? It was the right time to find out.
He stepped forward, the soft crunch of his hard leather boots as they tread upon the dry grass the only audible sound for miles in any direction. His long, black overcoat fluttered behind him slightly as a soft breeze wafted past him. It was in this moment that he felt truly at peace, and he savored every silent step, knowing that it could be disrupted at any moment by a familiar, and slightly annoying voice.
"Are we done being stoic and creepy yet?" That very same voice suddenly drifted into his left ear in a whisper, or at least its owner likely thought it was a whisper, but she was hardly used to the idea of speaking softly, so the man winced slightly in response. He exhaled deeply as he rubbed his ear, just as a small, dark-haired fairy dressed in a short purple dress popped into his field of vision, her purple eyes squinting slightly to show her amusement. She threw him a mischievous smirk as she fluttered her violet butterfly wings to stay ahead of him without looking where she was going. It was a habit of hers to hover in front of his face and taunt him playfully, which he had told her many times previously was quite dangerous. She didn't appear to have listened to him in the slightest, however, so instead he simply kept walking.
"How long have you been awake, Ilya?" the man asked her quietly, his soft voice a stark contrast to her own. She beamed at him and said "At least as long as you have. Maybe longer... no, definitely longer. I can recall your snoring. You sound like an injured moose." "You don't even know what a moose is," the man retorted without missing a beat. Ilya's smile turned immediately into a frown. "You know, Mally," she spoke in an exasperated tone. "You really are impossible to get worked up."
"I'll take that as a compliment," the man replied, his voice continuing to express no emotion. He had dealt with this particular fairy's methods many times already, and he wasn't about to lose his cool to her anymore. "If you wanted to speak, then why didn't you?"
The fairy shrugged, her customary smirk returning to her face, before she said "I didn't want to disrupt your oh-so-important concentration, my dear human. See how nice I am? You should thank me for showing so much consideration for you."
"I do thank you," the man said calmly before he turned his attention upwards. Ilya's expression turned serious as she fluttered back to his side and sat down upon his shoulder. She at least knew to remain alert whenever they were exploring ancient ruins such as the one that was now right in front of them. The man, Malacar, or Mally as she had come to call him, gazed up at the tower, his eyes gradually lowering until they fixed themselves upon the gaping entrance where there had once stood a doorway. He considered the entrance carefully, pondering how structurally sound it was before walking forward again.
"This is it," he muttered to himself softly. "This has got to be the one." "Yeah, just like all of the others we had searched already," Ilya remarked while rolling her eyes. Malacar glanced quickly at her, conveying his brief displeasure at her unfortunately truthful comment, before taking his first step into the tower.
. Anyway, my reasons for not continuing the first one still remain an issue. I may not be able to post very frequently due to data usage problems, but I've gotten that familiar itch to write something now, sooo...The sun shone brightly over the western horizon, ready to dip beneath the thin line of grass that rose up ever so slightly from the border between land and sky. It was a peaceful scene, devoid of harsh winds or noises that harassed the senses, much to the relief of a solitary figure standing at the foot of a gently sloping hill, his body silhouetted against the bright rays as he stared to the south, toward a massive, yet dilapidated structure, a tower that had decayed over centuries of disuse, its walls crumbling beneath their own weight. It was a familiar sight to the young man. His clear, violet eyes shone from beneath a black hood as he pondered the site before him. Was the object that he was looking for there? What would he find within those walls that he had studied for so long? It was the right time to find out.
He stepped forward, the soft crunch of his hard leather boots as they tread upon the dry grass the only audible sound for miles in any direction. His long, black overcoat fluttered behind him slightly as a soft breeze wafted past him. It was in this moment that he felt truly at peace, and he savored every silent step, knowing that it could be disrupted at any moment by a familiar, and slightly annoying voice.
"Are we done being stoic and creepy yet?" That very same voice suddenly drifted into his left ear in a whisper, or at least its owner likely thought it was a whisper, but she was hardly used to the idea of speaking softly, so the man winced slightly in response. He exhaled deeply as he rubbed his ear, just as a small, dark-haired fairy dressed in a short purple dress popped into his field of vision, her purple eyes squinting slightly to show her amusement. She threw him a mischievous smirk as she fluttered her violet butterfly wings to stay ahead of him without looking where she was going. It was a habit of hers to hover in front of his face and taunt him playfully, which he had told her many times previously was quite dangerous. She didn't appear to have listened to him in the slightest, however, so instead he simply kept walking.
"How long have you been awake, Ilya?" the man asked her quietly, his soft voice a stark contrast to her own. She beamed at him and said "At least as long as you have. Maybe longer... no, definitely longer. I can recall your snoring. You sound like an injured moose." "You don't even know what a moose is," the man retorted without missing a beat. Ilya's smile turned immediately into a frown. "You know, Mally," she spoke in an exasperated tone. "You really are impossible to get worked up."
"I'll take that as a compliment," the man replied, his voice continuing to express no emotion. He had dealt with this particular fairy's methods many times already, and he wasn't about to lose his cool to her anymore. "If you wanted to speak, then why didn't you?"
The fairy shrugged, her customary smirk returning to her face, before she said "I didn't want to disrupt your oh-so-important concentration, my dear human. See how nice I am? You should thank me for showing so much consideration for you."
"I do thank you," the man said calmly before he turned his attention upwards. Ilya's expression turned serious as she fluttered back to his side and sat down upon his shoulder. She at least knew to remain alert whenever they were exploring ancient ruins such as the one that was now right in front of them. The man, Malacar, or Mally as she had come to call him, gazed up at the tower, his eyes gradually lowering until they fixed themselves upon the gaping entrance where there had once stood a doorway. He considered the entrance carefully, pondering how structurally sound it was before walking forward again.
"This is it," he muttered to himself softly. "This has got to be the one." "Yeah, just like all of the others we had searched already," Ilya remarked while rolling her eyes. Malacar glanced quickly at her, conveying his brief displeasure at her unfortunately truthful comment, before taking his first step into the tower.
Post edited by Nimran on
4
Comments
I don't know if anyone wants me to continue this story. I'm thinking about reopening the other one also. Any tips or suggestions from those who will still follow these?
Tip: Keep writing. And drawing. To me it feels as if I have to let it all go out until drained, when I get in that mood it is better to keep it flowing and then go back later and edit the too-far-out stuff as opposed to trying to control it as it comes and write more precisely.