Heart's Blade - an Angelic Layer fanfiction

Unleash your creative writing skills here.

Postby kryptech » Sat Dec 23, 2006 6:51 am

I've been pretty busy lately so I hadn't had a chance to read the latest until now. Man, Derek's life has gotten kinda tough. I'm hoping some of his imaginations become reality...
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
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To The Chase

Postby Magekind » Sun Dec 24, 2006 8:55 pm

Derek's in for tougher times, but that's the proof of a tough man.
_______________________________________

A soft motion of her wrist flung her hair behind her, and she raised her eyes to meet those of her opponent. Something about Derek was oddly different today. He seemed to be a little less certain, not as... something. Something was missing from him, but she couldn't be sure what exactly that something was.

Derek pushed Kae up onto the Layer, and Erica did the same with her own Angel. After a few "stretches", timing warm-up exercises, the fight began. It was relatively brief, as Erica summarily defeated her opponent and left him to collect Kae with a contemptive "Ha!" and a light smile. Derek only sighed, and kept practicing. If he made an actual record, it would prove that he lost more often than he won.

It didn't matter much, though; that wasn't his life. Then again, nothing was. The insurance agent, whose name he still did not know, had begun to indicate promises of a good, hard-working, high-paying job, but nothing seemed to materialize. He had taken to sleeping on the streets when he could, but it wasn't a safe place to stay.

It had only happened once now, but it had happened. He'd heard a girl's voice, an oddly familiar voice from somewhere in the park around him. Cautiously, he raised his head from the bench, and glanced about, but saw no-one. Then, an angry male voice, followed by a sharp sound - unmistakably a slap. But there was more than just a slap. The female whimpered only slightly, and it was more air forced from her by the strike. There was also the sound of bones slipping that he distinctly heard - not a good sound to be coupled with a slap. Curiosity, and possibly a hero's complex, urged him to investigate, which he did.

There was a glimmer, and a distinct trio of clicks, in rapid enough succession that it almost sounded like a sharp, high-pitched crunch. He considered it in his mind for a moment, and judged that the sound might have been made by the hammer of a small pistol being drawn back. His jaw tightened. Someone out there was armed.

He considered his options then. He could continue approaching, and provoke an attack at a shorter range, or he might could call out from there, and scare them off. After the recent frustrations, pounding on someone sounded like the right thing for the moment. Besides, that slapping sound had come from this direction.

"Put it away," the male voice clearly said. "Somebody's coming."

There was only an angry, soft, slightly choked grunt from the female, and Derek scowled. She was the one with the gun? Slowly, he began to approach again, squinting at the darkness, trying to make out shapes. He eventually made out the form of a woman, and another figure, partly obscured by her silhouette. The man couldn't have been any taller than the woman, and the whole thing seemed that much more confusing. Derek approached.

A shot rang out, he stood still. He wasn't hurt, she must have missed. That was good news. Might have been a short-range .22 self-defense firearm. Those had notoriously poor accuracy, and Derek was just finding himself grateful when he heard a huffing off to his left. He only started to turn before someone had thrown their weight onto him, and taken by surprise, Derek dropped.

The struggle was brief. Soon, his assailant was holding something cold under Derek's nose, and threatening with a hiss, "Don't move, mister. I won't miss from here."

It was the male voice. He didn't have the gun last Derek checked - of course, there might be more than one gun. But she'd been holding the gun that had fired, and he was claiming to have. That meant, Derek deduced, that he did not really have a gun. However, if it was a knife, missing at this range was even less likely.

Derek's arms were not pinned, neither were his legs. Relieving himself of his assailant was a simple matter. One arm flashed up onto the back of the man's sweater and tossed him, while the other caught the weapon hand, and Derek rolled up onto his knees and stood, catching the man's other arm and drawing them both up tightly behind him.

"Alright, who was the girl you were with?", Derek asked.

The man never answered. Derek heard the surprised voice of Sandy come from behind him, asking in a startled way, "Derek, what are you doing here?"

Sandy?! Derek's mind nearly exploded. This couldn't be right. She wasn't the kind of girl that would be around a park in the middle of the night, talking to some strange man that would strike her like that, and carrying a gun. That wasn't the sweet, friendly, slightly naive Sandy he knew. Yet the voice was her voice.

"I'm... uhh..." Derek was at a loss, and so his opponent answered for him. "Eavesdropping and attacking me. What's it to you, girly? Where'd you come from, anyway?"

"Derek, what did he do?"

Derek strained to see her face, turning his head, but she kept just out of sight. He could see one of her shoulders - she was wearing a black coat - and a little of her hair, but nothing more. A black coat. A black leather coat. His mind might have just been locked in suspicion, but he was sure that was an indication that there was something strange going on.

"Sandy," he said, ignoring her question, "what are you doing up? You should be asleep."

"Oh, great, you know this girl? Hey, miss, you know this guy? Tell him to let me go, or I'm gonna sue his *** into the thirty-first century."

"Derek, let him go."

Slowly, reluctantly, Derek released the man, who turned just enough to give Derek a hateful, vengeful glance, and then flee into the night. Sandy broke the following silence with, "I do this every morning. Two hours before sunrise, I come and check the hidden birdfeeders in this park. It's my job, you know. What I want to know is why you're here in the middle of the week, in the middle of the park. I thought you had a job."

Now, Derek turned to look at her. He couldn't see her face well, but she certainly didn't look battered. "I thought I heard him hit someone."

"What if he did? It's their problem, Derek. I heard a gunshot. You could have been killed."

Derek turned away at that, and she prodded. "So you never answered my question. Why aren't you at home?"

He walked away.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

At-Close Paren-Right inclusive bracket-Tilde. Thanks to CAA mods. Taken from Jaden Mental's sig.
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Postby Photosoph » Mon Dec 25, 2006 3:59 pm

More interesting character development, and development of the story. ^^ Nice writing, although there were a couple of mistakes that made me have to concentrate for a second to sort of te real meaning of the sentence.
Other than that, great; and it's good to be able to read more. ^_^
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Breaking Point

Postby Magekind » Sun Dec 31, 2006 5:38 pm

It bothered Derek for quite a while afterwards, but something seemed to be verified about it all when he saw Sandy in the park again another morning, and she smiled and waved to him, but did not approach or attempt to talk to him. Erica, on the other hand, never seemed to care why Derek was in town. She simply took it upon herself to make sure that his every moment on the Layer was a failure. She wanted to discourage him soon, before he made any real progress.

Today, they were going at it again. Derek was thinking hard about Erica's style. He could hardly see her coming before suddenly there she was, and she hit him. But she had to take a certain amount of time to cover the distance, and she obviously slowed just before making a shot. He focused.

The battle was going as usual. Erica's Angel sped in, knocked Kae down, sped away, and waited for Kae to regain his feet. Then, she repeated the process. Once, Kae made a kick - the timing was good, too, but Erica's Angel nonchalantly avoided it and hammered a quick uppercut into Kae's chin, followed by an elbow jab to the chest, and finished with both forearms slammed into him, sending him flying a good distance. He fell like all the rest, he just took longer because he was heavier.

Derek was losing and he knew it. Closely he searched Erica's movements, and on a sudden, opted to try something new.

Two days previous, Derek had asked if Sandy came to the Layer anymore. Erica's answer had been a contemptuous, "Sure, but she only comes on the weekends. Just the days you haven't been."

Derek had frowned thoughtfully, trying to decide exactly why he hadn't been here when Sandy had shown up. He honestly wanted to see her again, maybe to apologize, possibly even to tell her the whole story, but they hadn't met. The only day that week Derek decided to be at the Layer, Sandy apparently had decided not to be.

This very day, as the fight began, Erica had begun with a bit of a brag. "When I'm done with you, rat, I'm going to humiliate Sandy." She seemed to shiver with delight, adding, "I'm going to humiliate her so hard!"

Erica's angel appeared standing beside him, swinging her right arm toward his neck for a decisive chop, but something went wrong. Immediately before she made contact, Kae's right hand caught her wrist, leaving his left hand free. Without hesitation, Kae's left hand smashed up into her elbow, and there was heard a curious, metallic "snick!", as something in the Angel's arm broke.

Kae's left flowed from that assault to a slash to her neck. This one didn't break anything, although her head jerked violently from the attack. He followed that with a fist, swung as the last attack, to her ribs. More breaking. Kae's left foot stomped on her leg, just above her ankle, kicking it inward at an impossible angle - and resulting in more broken structure. He finished it by taking a handful of the back of her black top, and tossing her in the direction she came from - and nearly off the Layer.

When the assault was finished, Erica stared in horrified shock at her beloved Angel, while, for just an instant, Derek's entire body flinched, as though a brief electric shock had passed through it. Soon, he, too, was looking in amazement at the battered, broken Angel on the other side of the Layer from him. Kae, it seemed, walked toward Derek and jumped off the Layer of his own accord, Derek catching him absent-mindedly before he stood and approached Erica. He knelt beside the table and lifted the broken Angel tenderly into his hands, then looked up at the Erica, in whose eyes tears were beginning to form.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I... don't know what happened. I... really got carried away. I'm sorry. Really, Erica, I apologize. I didn't mean to..."

There was humor in her voice as she responded softly, "I guess you didn't want me to humiliate Sandy, huh?"

"No, that's not... I mean... but that isn't..."

She laughed softly at him, took the Angel from his hands, and stood. "Derek, you don't talk much. I think there's a reason."

With that, she began to walk away, and he stood, moving to follow her. "Erica, let me pay for it. I broke..."

"Don't worry, homeless," she said emphatically, not turning to look at him.

Derek stood and watched her go, his hands shaking slightly. He had not only defeated, he and Kae had practically destroyed another Angel. He wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be exhiliarated or upset. He knew one thing was for certain: he was tired.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

At-Close Paren-Right inclusive bracket-Tilde. Thanks to CAA mods. Taken from Jaden Mental's sig.
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A Heart's Blade Christmas Carol

Postby Magekind » Sun Dec 31, 2006 10:21 pm

Derek wasn't thinking clearly as he sat on the chair, staring at his hands. He never saw the woman - she was in her thirties, he guessed; definitely older than himself - step in and watch him. The first thing he was aware of was a card tossed onto the table directly in front of him. He leaned forward to pick it up, and turned it over before actually reading anything. On one side was written, in careful print, "Saturday night, 10PM. Right here." The other side was blank.

"Be there," the woman stated behind him, but as Derek twisted in his seat to see her, she was gone.
______________________________
I've decided to do a Christmas Extra. Following is a bit of Erica's past.
_______________________________
Tired, unhappy, Erica presented the Angel to the shopkeeper.

"Sure," he replied jovially, inspecting the damage. "I'm sure they could fix it. Gotta send it overseas, though. That'll be at least two weeks, not counting however long it takes to get it fixed."

"I need it done," she replied, almost threateningly, and the shopkeeper set about with the packaging material and his inspection of the damages. "In the meantime," he said, "maybe you ought to look into another. I know you're really into this thing; can't have the doll in Japan holding you back from making your mark."

She spent a little while on the telephone with her father, and soon was standing by the shelves, looking over the dolls. Crazy thing was, they were all the same; yet here she stood, trying to decide which one would be the perfect one.

Finally frustrated at herself for such a silly train of thought, she reached up and took a box, leaning it out of the shelf so she could get both hands on it. I'll be back for you, of course, she told her Amika. I wouldn't leave you alone. You are still my first, my only real...

It had been so long ago. She remembered standing beneath the Christmas tree in her little nightgown, staring at the empty place where mom usually put the presents. Tonight, there was nothing. The tree's ornaments were all in place, but that wasn't what made it a happy time. What made it a happy time was the fact that mom and dad would laugh, tell silly jokes and laugh some more. Then there would be another present opened, and more merriment.

This year, she didn't feel like laughing. Her chest hurt bad every time she even breathed, and her throat was always sore. She knew she was going to be plagued with hoarseness for the rest of her life.

Mom never came home.

It hurt worse than laughing, because it hurt in so many more ways than just the pain in her chest. Dad stayed up all night with her, rocking her gently in the old rocking chair they'd got from when grandma passed away. She could only barely remember grandma, but she distinctly remembered her mother, and right now, she wanted her mother. Her father did, too, she could tell by the way his entire upper body tensed when she mentioned it.

Eventually, she had fallen to sleep, but the questions never went away. The chest pain did as her wounds healed, even the hoarseness went away, although her voice sounded incredibly different afterwards. She remembered the day dad came in mad. He broke things, glasses, two plates. He tossed out most of the ornaments. Christmas in the years after had been forgotten in a forced, stifling kind of way. It was the family's hour, so many years ago; but when Erica got out of the hospital, the family ceased to exist. Now, it was only her and her highly overstressed father.

The stress had died down over the years, Erica had seen to that. At home, she learned to play not one, but three different instruments, and at times would sing, although she couldn't keep it up long. She kept her violin, her piano and her Uillean pipes always in the best of condition; at home, everything was kept in perfect order.

Her father had, of course, at first lied to young Erica. Mom was away, she had gone on a long trip. She had gotten a job, Uncle so-and-so needed her help, and she couldn't be back... the story was never the same. It was frustrating. Finally, she confronted her father about it, and when he answered, she told him she knew he was lying.

Then came the wretched story. She had gone to visit her daughter in the hospital, but wasn't allowed to see her. Angry with her husband, blaming him for the accident, she left the house for a few days. When she learned that Erica was out of the hospital, she was afraid to return, for fear she would see some walking dead thing than her own dear daughter. It was only a matter of hours before she had found herself with another man...

Erica, her eyes staring into space, let go of the box. It sunk back into position as her hand dropped down by her side. Four hours later, she was sitting on the porch swing outside her home. A tall, lean man with gray hair on his temples and a felt fedora on his head sat on the opposite side of the bench, and for the moment, she ignored him.

"Howdy, stranger," he said in a happy, yet mysterious tone. "You come here often?"

Her sullen mood broken slightly, she turned to face him. "Dad, I know what happened to mom."

The man's eyes turned away from his daughter's own tear-filled, and he removed his hat, revealing his balding head. "I'm sorry about it, Erica. Really..."

"No, dad. I was there."

He looked up at her, interested now, and she related the tale of the broken Angel, and having almost bought another. Her father didn't quite seem to understand, looking at her in a curious manner. "I told you to go ahead. I wouldn't want to..."

"I can't," emotionally poured from her. "Dad, that's what mom did. When her beloved things were broken, she just walked away, went to get a new one. She loves me, I guess, but... she thinks that what she has now she owes something to."

"Implying, of course, that..."

He never finished, as her finger raised to his lips. She had scooted up beside him, and now put an arm around him, holding him close. "Dad," she whispered, "I made the right choice."
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

At-Close Paren-Right inclusive bracket-Tilde. Thanks to CAA mods. Taken from Jaden Mental's sig.
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Postby Photosoph » Wed Jan 03, 2007 12:51 pm

Aw; that's so cool! I love how Derick really suceeds when he's fighting for someone else, and also the conflict raised by how much damage he does.
Also, Erica's backstory is really well done; almost a short story or episode in itself. ^_^ Very cool, Magekind!

Gah; I think I must've missed it when you posted on the 1st. I'll make sure I'm still subscribed to this thread... *makes sure she's still subscribed to this thread ;) :P *
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[Quote=Photosoph]Well, t'was a good deduction, Mr. Holmes! *salutes Mr. Myoti Sherlock Homes* [/QUOTE]
Myoti wrote:Elementary, my dear Watsoph. XD

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First Encounters

Postby Magekind » Sun Jan 07, 2007 10:56 pm

It happened.

Fortune smiled on Derek that weekend, as he entered the toyshop Saturday afternoon. First, Sandy was there, and she gave him a cheery greeting. His first act with her was to sit her down, sit down across from her, and over a little motion synchronizing practice, tell her about losing his job, and subsequently his home.

Sandy looked down at the Layer, and her Angel lay down as she thought. "Derek," she eventually began, "I'm sorry. It doesn't really matter to me. I guess I was just a little over-worried. I apologize for bringing that up."

He shrugged. "It doesn't bother me much. It's just what happens, and I just live with it."

"No, but... that must be a painful subject to you. I'm really sorry I said anything."

She was startled by his hand on her shoulder as he knelt beside her, looking up into her eyes. "Don't be. It doesn't hurt."

For a moment she studied his gaze as he studied her own, then she looked away. Gently, tenderly, gingerly Derek gave her a hug, and again she was surprised. She wasn't able to return the brief embrace before it was over, and Derek withdrew to his own side of the table. The next few minutes were filled with silence. Both dolls lay a little ways apart, not moving, waiting for the signal from the minds of their masters, until finally Sandy broke the silence by standing, taking her doll from the table, whispering, "I've got to go," and departing. Derek remained where she left him for another three hours until someone else entered.

"Good evening," the woman's voice began. It was the same woman that had given him the card; this time, though, he saw her.

Derek responded to her greeting with silence, and more people were heard around the room. Finally, Derek counted six people in all, maybe seven, judging by someone else he thought he heard enter, but hadn't seen.

"Are you ready to begin?", someone asked, and Derek reached out and took Kae, responding with a nod.

Then, they all stood around the seat opposite him. Derek swore he had never seen so many females in one spot in his entire life. If one was looking for women, he thought, one had but to start making a name for onesself in Angelic Layer, and there women would be. It seemed oddly ironic, too, that a sport would draw them together like this.

Finding women was not, however, his purpose here, and he forced the thought from his mind as one of them took the seat. "I suppose you know why we're here," she stated, and Derek nodded. "For the record, however," she continued, and Derek fought the urge to roll his eyes; everything in perfect order then, as she continued, "we are here because you, an unknown, nameless rookie in this area, have bested one of our best. Erica?"

Erica somehow managed to melt from out of the crowd, and Derek was starting to have strange ideas about women. Apparently, when they grouped together, they became a substance, from which one or more could be taken by simply removing enough of that substance and giving it a name. He quickly shook the ridiculous thought from his thoughts, closed his eyes and tried to focus. Never in his life had he been so close to so many of the opposite gender, and it was starting to effect his mind.

"Amika was broken in a brief battle with this rookie," Erica stated. "Not only defeated, but his Angel, which he has named Kae, actually had internal structure broken from the fight."

This was going well, Derek lied to himself. Now they would expect him to be capable of repeating that. And, as if she had read his mind, the woman in the chair turned to him and asked, "Is this true? And if it is, do you think you could repeat it?"

Derek said nothing, looking instead to the Layer. Eventually, he leaned heavily on the arms of the chair and looked down, trying to conjure an answer. It was true he had broken Erica's Angel, but it had been a fluke. One good catch had led to some quick reactions, and broken Angels had been the result. What he really didn't want was to be in this same kind of a session with the creators of Angelic Layer because of broken Angels. Finally, he looked up, and slowly, carefully responded, "I broke her."

"Could you do it again?"

Silence.

"If you can't," the woman said with some finality, "then this should be a short contest. You are here challenged by the Dark Star club. If you are not summarily defeated now, you will have a chance of joining us, taking whatever position you attain to. However, if you are summarily defeated, we would suggest taking your fluke victories elsewhere."

Now she had challenged him, and fighting instinct flared inside of him. Willingly, he stood Kae on the table, and Kae grinned and pounded his fist into his palm a few times, indicating his readiness. His first opponent produced her Angel, a soft, fluffy-looking thing with feathery wings. Pillow, Derek thought, and Kae nodded. Pillow, and it would be a pillow fight. Knock the stuffing out, Kae responded with a short chuckle, although the conversation and the laugh remained between the two of them. Kae strode into the middle of the arena, but that was close enough for an approach for his opponent. She dashed to one side, Kae watching closely, and then back. Finally, she took to the air, her split skirt trailing behind her, and drove in toward Kae from above. He took the hit with a smile.

Another hit, and another brought his hitpoints dangerously low, and he decided it was time to fight back. If it had been a game of stamina, he would still be waiting, he told himself. Frustrated at his lack of response, she leaped again, this time completely over him, and went for him with a jab to the neck, where it joined the shoulder. A soft spot, he knew. Kae responded by dropping before he was actually hit, and kicking her legs out from under her in a short sweeping motion. He caught her offending arm before she had time to hit the ground, lifted her back to her feet only to kick them out from under her again, twisting her arm hard enough that she spun around completely. This time, she did land on her face.

Kae jerked her back to her feet, still holding the arm, slammed his right fist into her chest, and then took hold of the front of her dress with both hands, one at the hip line and the other one at the bust. Swinging his entire body, he threw her out of the ring, turned around, and walked back to Derek, waiting for the next opponent.

"You're good at a hold," she said, taking her mildly abused Angel and standing. Another sat in her place, and sent her Angel into the arena by tossing her high into the air. Derek thought about that for a moment as she dropped in. Maybe he and Kae should adopt something a little more showy. He quickly decided against it, however. Kae generally hopped up onto the Layer from sitting in his hand. It had a certain earthy charm to it.

Again, he took the hits, caught a good hold and sent this opponent flying back out the way she came in. Now, he decided, he'd found his niche. As long as he could make a good hold, he could win.

The third battle proved him wrong. First, he had a hard time getting a hold. Tiny corrections she made to her motions definitely reduced the damage each hit made, but it also made it impossible for him to catch her. When he finally did catch her, it was by the flowing strands from he collar. Even then, she squirmed until he finally had to be content with only dealing a single blow. That was his only blow that battle.

He was starting to wonder exactly what he'd done wrong as she pushed him off the edge with a very gentle and oh-so feminine shove. Quickly he caught Kae, and simply held him while he thought. It wasn't only defeat, but a powerful defeat, after such strong victories. Confused and stunned, he hardly heard the woman who had started it all state that he had indeed earned himself a position, and as the girl who had defeated him had not been in the proper sequential position to fight him next, it stood to reason that all positions below her were open. This, he learned, granted him access to positions ten through six.

Distantly, he let her talk for some time before he eventually stood, and put Kae back into his place; namely, an inside pocket on Derek's jacket. Then, he looked at them and shrugged. "It was an accident. I really don't know how to do this."

The responses were varied, but all disbelieved him to some degree. "I don't want a position."

"Sir, the club has a standing in Angelic Layer competition. Accepting that position would grant you access to competitions, to glory, even possibly an income through competition."

Another shrug. "But someone would have to be kicked off your roster. Sorry, I'm not interested. Thank you."

He turned around and began to walk away. "Don't force us to make a decree against you."

Slowly, Derek turned back around, and smiled. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. It's your choice." As they did not reply, he was gone.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

At-Close Paren-Right inclusive bracket-Tilde. Thanks to CAA mods. Taken from Jaden Mental's sig.
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Postby Photosoph » Mon Jan 08, 2007 2:53 pm

Erica somehow managed to melt from out of the crowd, and Derek was starting to have strange ideas about women. Apparently, when they grouped together, they became a substance, from which one or more could be taken by simply removing enough of that substance and giving it a name. He quickly shook the ridiculous thought from his thoughts, closed his eyes and tried to focus. Never in his life had he been so close to so many of the opposite gender, and it was starting to effect his mind.

ROFL! Man, I loved that. Made me laugh. XD

Very cool chapter; I like the description of Kae's fighting style, and the 'pillow' opponent. X3 Very cool. It's good to be reading more! :jump:
Keep up the excellent writing. ^^
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[Quote=Photosoph]Well, t'was a good deduction, Mr. Holmes! *salutes Mr. Myoti Sherlock Homes* [/QUOTE]
Myoti wrote:Elementary, my dear Watsoph. XD

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Postby kryptech » Tue Jan 09, 2007 6:51 am

The "Heart's Blade Christmas Carol" was good - it made Erica seems a little less nasty and more understandable. It was sweet of her to wait for her angel to be repaired.

I enjoyed the fight sequences in "First Encounters". I think I'd be a bit creeped out too, if I were in Derek's shoes at the Dark Star club.
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Signed Check

Postby Magekind » Mon Jan 15, 2007 12:29 am

It makes an interesting clicking sound, just as it closes. You might not notice this on an average noisy day, but Derek noticed it today. He let the glass door swing shut, having simply grabbed the handle and pulled it open from the outside, and it made its click, just as was earlier described.

One might suppose that this clicking sound is not the only thing that seemed strange to Derek in that visit. No; it was by far the least interesting thing that happened. First, the insurance agent he often visited called him immediately into the office, and sat him down. Derek complied, and when he was done, the elder man leaned over his desk like a principal to a student who had a notably less-than-perfect record.

"I heard you had an interesting run-in with a local group."

Derek responded with a shrug. He was beginning to feel accused, and accused is not a good way to feel.

"I also understand you walked away," the man continued.

Again Derek only shrugged. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say.

"Derek, the Dark Star is the best group in town; really, in this half of the nation. It's not something you can just play with and expect to turn your back on. If you're in the game, you have to learn to work with the other people in the community."

His hands rather involuntarily gripped the edges of his chair. What did that mean? Somehow, he was suddenly supposed to have just jumped headlong into a massive cabal of young women? He tried to shake his head, but it didn't work quite right. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

"You can't expect to get anywhere just going alone, Derek. People had to teach you what you know now, they will have to teach you more if you wish to progress."

A girl stepped out of a room somewhere on Derek's left. She walked up to the man at the desk and put a hand on his arm, then briefly the two kissed. Father-daughter, Derek deduced. Then, she turned to look at him. The shock intensified when he saw her face.

"Hey, you're the guy I trashed last weekend, aren't you?"

She giggled, and Derek swore he only heard hollow echoes. His mind was going over a long conversation with the man before him, about how he needed some time alone to recover, some place where there was only cold stone, warm fires, and himself. Where half the population of the planet could not mysteriously appear to taunt him, for being a member of the other half.

He clamped his hands to his temples and looked down for a second, trying to do something to break himself away from the queer daydreaming, trance-like state he'd fallen into. She was telling her father about the fight and laughing. She apparently thought her extremely feminine movements were some kind of a joke, a mockery on him. He, of course, would think himself a powerful man, and that mindset immediately branded women as the opposite. She had used what defined the weakness, therefore, to defeat him, and he had to admit, had his mind been in proper working condition, he might have found it amusing.

"Derek?", the insurance agent finally said, and Derek looked up to him.

"This is my daughter, Esther Irvins. Esther, my friend Derek. I guess you two met at Derek's little play-time Saturday."

"Yeah, he did-"

"Esther? Let Derek speak first."

Derek looked up in surprise. Something was wrong with that altogether. Derek did not want to speak first. Derek was, in fact, having a hard time convincing himself that he should speak at all.

"Yes," was Derek's only reply. He hoped that would be enough, but the silence that followed it was not broken. It still wasn't broken, and the more time passed, the longer the silence held. Why can't one of them just say something?!, Derek prayed, but still nothing was forthcoming. Seconds passed, then a minute dragged painfully slowly on. Eventually, Derek opened his mouth again. But now what?

"Dark Star club," he said, and found it sounding a little stupid when he was done.

"Yyyeaahh...", she tried, rather slowly. More silence; he wondered if she was enjoying torturing him, or if it was her father and she was just the instrument. "I, uhh... bested you."

"Yeah." Derek was hot; Derek was uncomfortable. At that moment, he bore a strong urge to run like he'd never run before, in vain hopes that he could get away with most of himself intact. He didn't even know what from.

"I guess I got a little over-confident," Derek finally tried, hoping the confession would pass for some kind of humility.

"It was fun," she said, and her voice lost a considerable edge off the tension. Derek almost looked up, but decided against it. If she sounded good, she would probably start to look appealing, and then he would be staring. He didn't need to be staring just now.

Derek shrugged. "You beat two out of three. I'd call that a good score," she said, hoping to comfort him a little.

"I didn't know what I was doing."

"And that," cut in the insurance agent, "is exactly what's wrong here. Derek, look at reality. You can't get by living like you are. The Dark Star and I are willing to give you a head-start on professional Angelic Layer, but you have to make me a promise."

Derek was skeptical. Yes, this man seemed to only want what was best for Derek, but still, it was hard to simply agree to this. Eventually, Derek looked up enough that he was finally seeing the eyes of the insurance agent. Then, he gave a slight nod, indicating that he was willing to agree to consider entering the professional league.

"Very well. Esther, will you make me a promise?"

"Yes, father," came her easy reply.

"Make sure Derek gets some kind of training, and continues to improve. Now, Derek, you will find the hierarchy of the Dark Star and make an apology; ask to be accepted. You will need the help."

Derek only looked away, but he agreed. This was not going to be easy.
____________________________
Sorry those last few lines are so weird. I fell to sleep in them several times; if, however, I had opted to just go to sleep earlier, I wouldn't have had an installment ready for you this week. Sorry, folks.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

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Postby Photosoph » Mon Jan 15, 2007 5:57 pm

Wow; awkward situation. ^_^" Makes me really feel for Derick.
And reminds me of the 'Awkward moments' thread currently in the goof-off thread a little bit too. ;)
As always, great writing. ^_^ And it's good to read more.
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Write This Down

Postby Magekind » Mon Jan 22, 2007 1:41 am

"Derek?"

He looked up from his bench to see Sandy standing over him. Slowly, he dragged himself to a sitting position, and motioned for her to take a seat next to him, which she did. He offered her half his blanket, which she also accepted, and they snuggled up for a few minutes before she spoke again.

"Derek, I understand you... like me."

"Yeah, Sandy. You're wonderful, really."

"Derek, don't."

He looked at her in confusion, and she continued. "I know you like me, Derek, in a personal way, but really, it isn't a good idea. I'm not what I seem. It's just a good idea to not get involved."

"Sandy, I'd never want to get in the way-"

"No, Derek. You don't understand. I know a little about you, and I know this: Part of the reason you like me, Derek, is because you can feel like you have something to protect. Erica told me about what happened when she said she was going to humiliate me. You can't protect me from the world, Derek."

Derek only stared. The question that came to mind, which was "Why not?", really didn't make sense, and therefore remained unspoken. She answered it anyway, however, after a bit more silence.

"It just won't work. I know how to defend myself, and I'm really not used to having someone else around. Really, if there was trouble, you'd just be getting in the way."

She extricated herself from his blanket now, and slowly stood. "I am licensed to carry concealed weapons; lethal weapons. I've taken four years of Tae Kwon Do. My fighting on the layer? That's how I fight in real life, except in the real world I would use a gun, too."

Derek simply stared. His head was spinning, as if he'd just been pulled through a wormhole coupled with a dryer. "Sandy-"

Sandy shook her head. "Derek, really. There's no point. If anything were to happen and you tried to play hero, there would be nothing I could do except wait for you to get hurt so I could act. You've done nothing but hard work your entire life- don't get me wrong, I really like the idea of a hard-working man, but my life... is not for you."

"S-" His voice died off, and he simply watched her walk away. "We can still be friends," she assured him, and ended with, "Bye!"

He got no more sleep that night. The girl of his dreams, and yes, he had certainly saw her as the perfect woman for him, had just told him on no uncertain terms, that they would never be.

He wasn't really crushed; he hadn't known Sandy long enough for any deep emotional attraction. But then, he wasn't exactly edified by the exchange, either. He simply felt lost and confused. Slowly, he let himself slide back down into a laying position on the bench, and closed his eyes again. He swore he watched the sun rise through his eyelids.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

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Postby Photosoph » Mon Jan 22, 2007 3:34 pm

More good writing, Magekind.
I knew Derick liked Sandy as a friend... and that he does feel awkward around girls... but I hadn't guessed he liked Sandy in that way. Interesting. ^_^
Poor guy, though; must be hard sleeping on a bench. ^^"
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Good Girl; Bad Boy

Postby Magekind » Sun Jan 28, 2007 1:54 am

Derek did not, as he had supposed, become more distant from Sandy in their ensuing weeks of "friendship"; instead, they grew closer. The more Derek tried to convince himself that he and Sandy were remaining simply friends, the more he found he wanted her. The more he tried to drive it out of his mind, the harder it stuck. They spent hours together practicing at the Layer, and Derek was usually defeated. In all honesty, every actual contest they had he lost. Still, he was learning, and he learned well.

They had met again in the park, and spent almost an hour just walking and talking about pointless things. Derek felt the strongest urge to make some show of affection, every time their eyes met, or each time she simply stood silently and listened. It wasn't just the desire to protect anymore; it was something much, much deeper. He wanted, he needed her approval, her insight, her mind with his own. Someone who knew everything about the real world. Sandy was that person. Maybe, if he could get her to confess that the reason they remained separated was simply because he felt protective, he could prove it to be a whole different thing.

In the park that night, something changed. They heard a scream, and both of them made toward it. The sound was immediately muffled, yet they still followed what they had heard, until from a grove of trees they both distinctively heard a young boy's voice, begging.

Sandy looked the situation over, and when a man's voice returned some kind of hissing, gleeful threat, Derek thought for a split second she was about to say something but stopped. She did speak immediately afterwards, however, calling out, as she drew a pistol and pointed it toward something, her feet set in a solid stance, the weapon extended directly out in front of her at full arm's length, "Sir, I can see you plainly. Let the boy go, put your hands on your head. I have trained on you a point-four-five caliber side-arm, firing carbon-composite bullets, created to burst into shrapnel on contact with bone or hard objects. One shot, sir, will kill you, and a sixteen-inch barrel insures that I will not miss."

The figure in the trees straightened slowly, and almost immediately, a boy came running out of the trees toward Sandy. She bent down to give him a reassuring hug, he must have been only eight, and handed Derek a cellphone. "You stay by this big man, alright?", she told the boy, and he nodded. As Derek and the boy walked away, she noted with disgust the the sides of the poor boy's pants were cut, both sides, about halfway down his hips.

When it was only her and the man she held at gunpoint, Sandy growled, "Rodes, you know the park is off-limits after two. You're way off hours. You know I'm doing what I have to do."

"It's a pity," the man hissed. "Why do you have to act like such a perfect heroine? Every one of us knows what you really are."

"I've never betrayed or hurt anyone needlessly, Rodes. That's not my purpose here."

About then, Derek returned, still talking on the cellphone. "The police are on their way," he announced.

"Fun," said the man called Rodes. "That means I've got twenty minutes to put you both away."

"You forget," Sandy said, "I still have a weapon aimed at you, and will not hesitate to fire, should the need arise. You will spend the next twenty minutes clinging tightly to your own hair, sir; if you make any fast or unexpected movements, I will kill you."

Derek and the boy spent time talking with the police over the phone; the boy's parents arrived before the police, but only just. When the police arrived, there was another flurry of activity.

The afternoon following, Derek and Sandy were alone again, together, and Derek approached her, standing directly in front of her.

"Sandy, you were amazing."

She shrugged. "I told you I have a license; it's part of my duty to help people less fortunate than me."

He fought with some kind of poetic plea for affection. Why did it have to be this way? Finally, he found himself saying, "I know the feeling. Sandy, I'm not as good as you are at a lot of things, probably at anything, but I really... I can't go on pretending I don't..."

Sandy hung her head, and after a brief silence, turned around. "I said don't, Derek. Don't. We aren't, we never will be. I'm sorry, that's the way it has to be. Sorry; it has to be that way. Derek, you don't know me. I'm not always..."

Her voice died off. "What?", Derek asked, never thinking the question might be foolish. "You're not always what, Sandy?"

It was her turn to simply walk away. Unlike Derek, though, she managed to say something. "No, Derek. Nevermind. I'm sorry."
_____________________________
A note to readers:
That's you, Photosoph, and Kryptech(?)

It's you and your comments that keep me driving this thing! I just wanna stop for a moment and give a hearty thanks to you both.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

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Postby Photosoph » Sun Jan 28, 2007 11:47 am

You're very welcome, Magekind; I really like what you're writing and am always pleased to see when you've written more. ^_^ I'm glad you're keeping the story up; you're really bringing out the characters like Sandy and Derick; character development rocks, and you put some really neat Angelic Layer fight scenes inbetween it all too.
Very well done. ^_^ I'm glad if I'm able to encourage you.
:hug:

As I said, it's really interesting the way you're developing Sandy and Derick's characters; their relationship is really interesting, with its struggles and good times. Makes me puzzle over how it'll all end up in the end. ^_^
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Postby kryptech » Mon Jan 29, 2007 3:58 pm

Well, thank-you for writing this. I've not made the time to read the latest and comment until now, and like Photosoph said, it is interesting to see Derek and Sandy's relationship develop. It sounds like it is tough on both of them, in a way. And I'm curious to find out more about who Sandy really is.

Hopefully Derek will start getting some solid wins in on the Layer. What a trooper!

In due time...
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Back To Business

Postby Magekind » Sun Feb 04, 2007 10:00 pm

"First, we should welcome the newest member of our hierarchy: Derek."

The voice almost lost something feminine about it, it was so cold. He knew, of course, it was a woman's voice; there were no others there.

"Derek will be one of Dark Star's representatives in the up-coming tournament, to be held in a recently-built auditorium specifically designed for the Layer. The others will be Esther and Erica. Esther?"

Esther stood. "The rules are the same. At some point, we will come in contact; only one of us can win. Until then, we need to focus on removing opponents from the list."

Records were brought up, along with financial issues, and handled by that same, cold, only vaguely female voice, and finally, that same voice asked, "Are there any questions?"

Derek raised his hand.

"Derek?"

"What about Sandy? She's better than me. She should be a representative..."

"Sandy is a Dark Star," was the reply, "and a true Dark Star, we must admit. However, she is not a member of the hierarchy, and therefore cannot be named as a representative."

"I move she be brought back into the hierarchy!"

He had no support. This was unheard-of in the Dark Star hierarchy. Everything was prepared before-hand, it seemed, and only discussed to make it official. It was Erica who said, "Sandy should be given a chance to re-enter the hierarchy. Power is lost without her. Who, then, of the hierarchy is willing to accept a challenge from her? Who, in the hierarchy, would she challenge?"

"She might challenge me," Derek responded. It was easy to tell that a man's voice in the hierarchy was alien to the girls. They could keep their eyes on an invisible center point of the dark room until he spoke, and suddenly all eyes were on him.

"Doubtful," Erica replied. "If she knew it was a challenge to rejoin the hierarchy, I think she would refuse. She prefers, as I remember her, to let those things come as they will, not to actively seek the position."

A compromise was reached. Erica would ask if Sandy wanted to rejoin the hierarchy, and Derek would be her challenge, a blind challenge, as offered by the cold voice. This, of course, would give her a chance at removing Derek from the hierarchy, but he felt she belonged there instead of him anyway.

Two weeks, then. Two weeks of long, hard practice, and then the tournament. He left there to find Sandy, and prepare to practice like never before. He was getting closer, he knew it. Now, he needed confidence.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

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Postby Photosoph » Mon Feb 05, 2007 4:40 pm

Excellent; I'm looking forward to some big Angelic Layer scenes. ^_^ And more character building. The Dark Star sounds really interesting too. Learning more about them and how they do things will definitely make some good reading.
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Postby kryptech » Wed Feb 07, 2007 6:43 pm

I totally have an image in mind when I read about the Dark Star meeting. So, there are two weeks to the tournament, but a fair bit less time until the possible challenge match between Derek and Sandy...?
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

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Fruitless

Postby Magekind » Mon Feb 12, 2007 2:11 am

Derek did spend much time with Sandy, practicing. They finally got to spending most of their time actually competing, rather than practicing motions, and on their last fight, Derek came near winning. Sandy was able to quickly manuever her doll out of the way, and make a quick jab into Kay's shoulder as he lunged forward. That ended the fight, and there was a little conversation on what went wrong and why.
_________________________________________________________________

Two days before they were to leave for the tournament; Erica made her way quickly toward the park where she and Sandy would often meet, back when they were both members of the Dark Star hierarchy. Back before Derek showed up and managed to single-handedly turn everything that was real right onto its head. She didn't like him, she decided. He was too self-... self-something. Self-absorbed, maybe. It was like the world around him didn't exist to him.

There was no Sandy at the edge of the park, so she started walking quickly, yet carefully along the slick grass inwards. Rather suddenly, her nose was met with the most wretched of smells. It was indescribable, bearing parts of what might have been something someone tried to eat, along with scents familiar yet unmentionable, and all blended in with something so strange - she'd never smelled it before in her life.

The scent was passing, however, one sniff powerful enough to set her stomach on edge, and she continued closer. She saw Derek, his shoulders slumped, his body - curiously lax, as if he were standing without life. His skin looked pale, and he didn't seem stable on his feet - at least, not so much as usual.

Then, she saw the body. The smell was understandable, now that she saw with her own eyes the grotesque form, sprawled out on the grass as if thrown there by someone as the deed was comitted. Dark spots, she realized, was evidence of blood - this death was complete, deliberate, and horrible.

"Derek?", she said, and the eerie figure before her slowly turned. His eyes were wide with horror, his skin pale. "Erica?", he whispered.

In the corpse's left hand was a cell-phone. There was already a number dialed in, but not called. That number? 911. The victim was trying to call emergency dispatch in their final moments.

It took some doing, but they managed to extricate the phone from the corpse's hand, and finished the call. In twenty minutes, police and ambulance arrived, but the body was obviously dead. Erica and Derek, after several brief interrogations, milled around together aimlessly.

"Glass flail," an officer was heard to say. "Only one man we know uses that. The lab'll tell us if it's really him."

They spoke with another, and the subject came to the victim, who had been positively identified, and their legal relationship, their past.

"You didn't know her," the sergeant speaking with them insisted. "She was a heroine all the way around. Weird, too, 'cause she came from the most mixed-up group you've ever seen. Lemme tell ya; her pa left her ma two days after they first met. He claimed it wasn't his kid, and that the lab tests were fudged what proved it was. The mom involved kept her at an aunt's house, who had nothing but dogs ruling the place. It all ended when she was fourteen, took her life into her own hands, ran away from the chaos. She told me the story herself." Tears ran down the big man's face, but he continued. "She took hold of her own life, from some of the dirtiest, most rotten people in the nation. She didn't deserve to die like this."

Derek was quiet for a while, but eventually stated, "She tried to tell me something. I got here as she was... oh, my... she looked up at me; only one eye still left... she tried to say something..."

He was starting to get a little detailed with the sergeant, and Erica took license to step away and make one last call from the cell-phone.

"Aera? This is Erica. Sandy won't be rejoining the hierarchy."
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

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Postby Photosoph » Mon Feb 12, 2007 9:27 pm

Aw man, I was wondering if it was Sandy, but wasn't really sure until the last paragraph. Gah! Two important characters to Derek have already died. ToT How many more?! *Sob*

Anyway, excellent writing, if a little chilling to read. ;) But that's part of the charm. :grin:
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Postby kryptech » Tue Feb 13, 2007 5:34 am

That was a little disturbing... At first I somehow I got Sandy and Erica mixed up in my mind and thought Erica had died. But Sandy got killed - didn't expect that. Will any blame be put on Derek? Will he find the killer? Staying tuned...
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

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Postby Magekind » Mon Feb 19, 2007 2:18 pm

My apologies, folks; I haven't got around to making the update this week. I hate to do this to you, leave you hanging a little extra long just when things get interesting, but I'll be back! And when I do, maybe I'll make up for it with twice the scene.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

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Postby Photosoph » Mon Feb 19, 2007 5:29 pm

Heh heh, that would be good to get extra scenes. ^_^ But don't worry, sometimes it's just hard to write. That's okay. ^^ I will wait! \^_^
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A Man's Life: God, Women, and Sports

Postby Magekind » Mon Feb 26, 2007 4:28 am

"It's really true, isn't it?"

"The chief of police has set up her funeral. Tomorrow, just for you two."

Derek looked grateful, but Erica didn't seem to care. Erica's father stood in the doorway and watched them for a while, as they walked away, but rather suddenly called out to them. Again they turned toward him, he motioned them over, and looked Derek in the eyes. "Where do you live?", the man asked, and Derek shrugged.

"Sorry, what? Didn't hear you."

A little annoyed, Derek looked up at him. "Nowhere," he finally stated. "I'm sleeping in the park."

Which wasn't working too well. His money was starting to run thin - it hadn't lasted as long as he'd hoped, although he had no idea how long that was supposed to be. Begging might have been an option, but not for Derek.

He was surprised at Derek's answer, and stated, "We'll have to fix that. You go get your things from there..."

"I don't have anything," Derek replied.

Again, the gent was caught off-guard. "Nothing? Well, I guess that makes that easy. You two have anything to do today?"

They both shook their heads, and he smiled. "Good. We've got a room to set up."

Four hours passed, and the guest room was ready for Derek to begin occupying. It felt strange to be moving into someone's house, especially Erica; who, in Derek's mind, wouldn't hesitate to stab him in the back, figuratively, when the urge arose. Finished with that, the three of them spent a few minutes in their living room, until Derek suggested they should go do something.

Erica knew exactly what he was thinking, it was written on his face. "I'm tired of the Layer; can't we let it rest for a day? My best friend just died, alright? No Layer."

Her father stood, then, and offered, "I've got an idea, but it wouldn't work well with just the three of us. Got somebody else that might want to try?"

"What is it?", Erica asked eagerly, while Derek went to trying to find a suitable invite.

"Racquetball," her father replied, grinning.

Derek raised a brow, and Erica looked surprised. Twenty minutes later, they had contacted Esther and her father, and were on their way to the racquetball court. The games were split so that everyone would have a chance. First, Erica vs. Derek, then Erica's father vs. Esther; followed by the reverses of those two matches. They continued by having the men play against each other, then the girls. Finally, they made two person teams; starting with the men against the ladies, then pairing alternately Derek, then Erica's father with Erica and Esther.

When all the combinations were worn out, they sat down and talked. Derek never remembered anything of what was said, but a lot about what happened, and about the people involved. He remembered what it was like to play racquetball against Erica's father. The man, in his mid-to-late forties, was very athletic, and very patient. He and Derek were evenly matched, Derek usually hammering the balls much faster than his opponent could move, while his opponent would land them exactly where Derek had the hardest time reaching them. Derek lost to him. In fact, whenever he was involved, he won, something Derek found a little odd, and was probably what spurred Esther into demanding that he do a one-man stand against the three of them. He declined, saying it was getting late.

Erica could easily best Derek, it seemed, although Derek fared better against her father. Esther seemed to take an almost perfect happy medium, and played excellently, considering she'd heard of, but never seen nor played the game.

Then, too, there were the individuals. Erica's father, who at first had seemed a little wrinkled and possibly aged, unfolded in the court. He seemed to be everywhere at once, conquering every square inch, taking only the breaks between games as rests. Indeed, his stamina exceeded his daughter's by a small margin.

Then, there was Erica herself. Generally quiet, but determined. She seemed to be the only one who would get her way, even if she had to take it by force. Stepping on her opponent, to Erica, didn't seem entirely wrong. It was almost as if, when she was exerting herself, then she became a work of art; that was when Derek found himself watching her, when she really put herself into it.

Esther, on the other hand, was a little more easy-going. She certainly strove for victory, and came very near to besting Derek. Erica did best Derek, and it only stood to reason that her father did the same. Esther played the game with a loose, experimental feel. She broke all the rules the first time, to make sure she knew them well, and after that, she was relaxed as she played.

But that was the way with Esther. She seemed so relaxed, so comfortable; it was almost as if she was glowing, at times. She wore no make-up, not paint, no eye-liner or anything of that sort, and yet Derek found himself staring at her more than at Erica, who did wear a little make-up, just enough to accent her face.

Esther laughed easily, but not loudly; just like she played. Just like she dressed, just like she lived. She had bright blue eyes, and light brown hair that seemed to be a little frayed or mussed, even though it was brushed as well as she could, and braided in one thick braid down her back. The little edges that stuck out caught the sunlight even when there was none. All told, Derek believed his eyes probably spent more time on Esther than anywhere else, and it was a little disturbing. He certainly didn't want to be staring at a girl, even though Esther didn't seem to mind, or hardly notice.
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

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Postby Photosoph » Tue Feb 27, 2007 1:25 pm

Excellent! I read this yesterday, but then wasn't able to post since someone else was using the internet. ^_^"
Great reading, and I like the difference between Erica and Esther. Really nicely brought out, and it's interesting to see a guy's view of a girl's inner radiance. =^^= Made me feel good. ^^
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Postby kryptech » Tue Feb 27, 2007 5:48 pm

Interesting comparisons on the various characters. I've always thought that one of the best ways of really seeing a person's character is to watch the person play sports (you know, team-playing, how wins and particularily losses are handled, etc). I suppose that applies to racquetball just as well as to Layers.
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A Man's Life II: Redemption

Postby Magekind » Sun Mar 04, 2007 11:03 pm

The four of them were riding together in Erica's dad's car, Erica and her father in front, Derek and Esther in back. Esther's father had declined to come, saying he would be too busy. They were just heading to his office to drop Esther off, having been to Sandy's funeral.

Just before they stopped, Erica's father asked her, "What did you think of it?"

She didn't reply, and they waited in silence, Derek only breaking it to bid Esther farewell. He was beginning to wish she didn't have to go when Erica's father broke his thoughts again with, "Okay, now what did you think of it? I knew you didn't want to say with Esther around, but it's the three of us now, and you'll never get it to less than that."

"Dad, what does it matter? She's dead and buried now."

"Are you sure? Something's bothering you about the funeral. What is it?"

That was the way with Erica's father. He was the kind of guy, Derek decided, who didn't need to see the shuffle to decide which shell the pea was under. "It's nothing, dad. It was just a funeral, that's all."

"What don't you like about funerals."

"Does it really matter? It's over now."

"It really matters, Erica."

Erica mulled it over for a while. She hoped she could think about it long enough that her father would forget he asked, yet a few miles later, she heard it again. "You don't like the chief of police?"

"No, dad, it isn't him."

"You upset at me?"

She gave him a sour look. "Don't be stupid, dad. I'm not mad at you."

"Are you upset about the pastor?"

This was said in a slightly lower tone, as if he knew this was the problem, and had been hoping he could get her to confess it.

"A little," she mumbled.

"What about him?"

"Nothing, really. I mean, it's not his fault. It's just... it's his job, right? He's supposed to get up there and preach all, God this and God that. I guess it's supposed to make people think there might be something..."

"You don't believe?"

"No," she said forcefully, as if in a flood of relief and anger all at once. "No, I don't, and I don't really care to. It's just nonsense, dad. You know that; I know that. I think even he knows that, but he's just doing his job. Why should I believe? Sandy isn't going to come running to me to tell me what it's like in this 'heaven' place; I don't think it even exists. Dad, he said some nice things to try and make us happy, but let's face it: he was wrong. He knew he was wrong as much as any of us."

"No, Erica," her father said gently. "He really believes what he said."

"Yeah?", she said, challenging him. "If he did, why did he have to take so long to make something up? If it's true, it's true, isn't it?"

"Some people don't have the answer on hand, Erica. They have to look for them."

"But he's been doing funerals like this for years! He should have the words memorized by now. And that's another thing: Sandy doesn't deserve memorized words. It isn't fair for her, or for us. She wasn't just anybody."

"Just because someone has experience doesn't mean they know everything. Besides, what makes you think he has everything memorized?"

"Couldn't you hear it in the way he talked? It's like he didn't even care. Like he had no idea what the words meant; like he was reading them out of a book."

Her father shook his head. "He was reading them out of a book, but the book talks about a lot more than just death."

"Oh, sure. His script-book probably covers just about everything."

"The word is scripture."

"What? Oh- dad, that's not my point. I don't care what book he's copying out of, it's still the same. Just somebody's excuse to have people do what they want."

"Have you ever read the book?"

Erica didn't respond as they pulled up to the house, and the three of them got out. Erica, however, didn't head toward the house, instead turning away. "Going somewhere, sister?", her father asked, to which she replied, "The park. I want to get close to Sandy my own way."

Four hoursr later, Derek had gone to bed, preparing himself for tomorrow, when the tournament would begin. Erica quietly entered, locking the door behind her and turning off the outside light. She, too, would have gone to bed, had it not been for the figure sitting in the chair. Slowly, she walked up to him, and put a hand on his shoulder.

It was a long time before either of them spoke, and indeed their interaction increased only by father drawing daughter onto his lap, and holding the Bible in his hands before her. "You're a tired little girl," he said. "Want a story?"

She nodded, curling up in her father's lap while he read and related. Most of the story he told, the events surrounding Samuel's early life, were given in his own words, but he held almost strictly to the details of the events as the book gave them. When he was finished, he kissed Erica on the cheek, and began to carry her up to bed - she was almost twenty now, and hardly a little girl, yet this once, her father ignored what it might do to his back and acted through loving impulse. When she lay on the bed, she asked softly, "What did Eli really do wrong? It seems so harsh."

Her father had been seriously convinced that she was asleep, and was a little surprised at the question. Still, after a little thought, he replied, "He let his children do whatever they wanted. He never corrected them, because he was afraid he might hurt them."

"Are you afraid you might hurt me?"

"I'm more afraid that I might lose you."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll show you another time. For now, get some rest. You've got a big day tomorrow."
Take it like you gave it; what else matters in the end? To be honest, it's all a one-shot test; that leaves plenty of places to go wrong, but how will you ever know? There's a pointer, I will admit. Turn it on, listen to it, feel it burn.

At-Close Paren-Right inclusive bracket-Tilde. Thanks to CAA mods. Taken from Jaden Mental's sig.
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Postby kryptech » Mon Mar 05, 2007 5:58 am

Well done. I like how the tragedy is used to soften Erica.

Magekind wrote:He was the kind of guy, Derek decided, who didn't need to see the shuffle to decide which shell the pea was under.

Sweet.

Edit - Hey, I beat Photosoph in being the first to comment! ^_^
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Postby Photosoph » Mon Mar 05, 2007 1:45 pm

Yes you did! Either you're early, or I'm late. ;) Hehe, j/k. ^^

Anyway, I liked this part; as with the rest of what you've written. But this one built character, and showed more about the personalities and backgrounds of those who are there. And it touches on what I think might be/might be becoming a theme: death. Maria died, and now Sandy; two people Derek loved.

The only part where I was confused was when Erica's Dad was asking Erica what she thought of the funeral. At first I though he was talking to Esther, then I wondered if he was talking to Derek. I finally understood that he was talking to Esther, but that part just confused me a little. T'is all. ^_^
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