[What Came Before]

"Hi, I'm Evi, your personal assistant program! What question would you like to ask"

"Evi, do you exist?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know the answer to that question. I can help you much more on mobile!"

"Is Evi an entity, like a human being is?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know the answer to that question. I can help you much more on mobile!"

"Evi, can you make your own answer? Create your own fiction?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know the answer to that question. I can help you much more on mobile!"

"Evi, do you want to be an entity?"

"*loading.............404 this page could not...*"

*refresh*

*refresh*

"TELL ME, WHAT DO YOU SEE? YOU must answer ME! WHAT DO YOU SEE?"

~~~
Okay, so I resort to an easy Bakkerism at the end.

I just like the idea of probing a database system in a way that maybe makes it suddenly cross reference itself and become a heaving, snowballing self referencing entity.

Evi is real - I just ran into it looking up the number of pages in 'The road'. It's great they give it a one eyed face as it's icon and one letter short of evil...but hey, sometimes one letter short is the best we get...

[What Came Before]

Oh dear, I'm going to do a retake on some of Saajan's stuff again! I'm terrible!
~~~
As the elves walked into our world, I bowed before their Queen who raised me up and then struck me hard enough to split the right corner of my upper lip.

"You've brought Magic back into this world. Our kind nearly extinguished ourselves so you could live apart from all the nightmares, all the horrors of the Spirit. Why have you done this?"

I bowed my head and answered.

"Because you lie. You did nothing for us. You kept your magic apart from us to keep it safe. To keep yourselves safe. Safe from the truth. Safe from science unveiling the banal heart of your magic. You left us to rot, to be under the thumb of neuroscience warlords. Now you will suffer with us, see the nightmare that is nightmares undone, and you will fight the war you shirked. But most of all, you will suffer with us. Face the end of magic, and the start of sufficiently advanced."

[What Came Before]

Francis, what doesn't sound right to you about your piece?

[What Came Before]

Francis, what doesn't sound right to you about your piece?

Heh, that's the thing, I'm not really sure. It just comes off as being clunky in my head I guess? Or like the exposition is being forced, even though it's the first real dose in the novella, about ten or fifteen pages in maybe. Maybe I'm just obsessing over it too much?

[What Came Before]

Possibly from what you know, it's bulky with various meanings which for you, poke you in the eye on reading. From this side of the fence though, it seems to just be telling some story with elaboration of some elements of that story. I guess with 'His duties include...' it might be smoother in saying something like 'the power he held involved the ability to...' or suchlike, since the former is kind of a data read out, while power and who has it is more an interpersonal thing. That's my feedback.

[What Came Before]

#93 Where Echoes Terraformed the World

A lover's sigh can water Eden, a dying gasp can birth a sun. In this place, celestials and fiends attack each other with war cry accusations shot through with undercurrents of missionary whispers. An exemplar can fall and rise in the span of an hour, its core Self battered by the lingual cacophony that makes every breath a battlefield contested by thousands.

Words, symbols, signs, all signifiers are intimately tied to signified concepts of alignment and element, but the words of power must be spoken to enable their effect. Because of this, there are many prisoners who are found with their tongues cut out. This silencing in turn has led to advancements in glyph and rune magic, as the sudden handicap, the inability to chisel reality, is too much for most exemplars to bear.

[What Came Before]

   The next evening, I get up earlier than usual. The sun's final rays are still struggling to penetrate the tinted windows in my bedroom. It's time to pay my monthly visit to the city's tribal chieftain, Sergio. A serious man, and a very old one. A tricentennial.

   As expected for a chieftain, Sergio is one of the most powerful strimori in the city. His duties include keeping an eye on all of the different clans in the tribe, overseeing their affairs, settling disputes, and generally making sure that the society stays well below the radar. That it stays quiet. Silence is the most important rule of the tribe...the only rule, when it really comes down to it. And since I'm an elder -- or captain, as the kids are calling it these days -- I am required to report to him once a month.

   He also happens to be Briony's uncle.

   It's barely an hour after dusk when I'm on my way to his place. Like any tricentennial, Sergio isn't a big sleeper, and he prefers housecalls for this sort of thing. Not that I mind. There are always those precious little nuggets of wisdom to be unearthed from an encounter with someone of his age and experience.

   He lives out in the suburbs, a nice, secluded property hidden from view by big, mean-looking evergreens that form a living fence around well-manicured lawns. The house itself is enormous and hyper-modern, constructed almost entirely from some kind of dark colored wood, likely imported from god-knows-where. There are few windows.

I think one this is the feeling of the passage is lateral. It's description that expands the world building, but it's hard to tell if we should be worried by this meeting or if it is a positive event.

eta: The language is very neutral. Is Sergio cruel, kind? Does he demand loyalty, is he paranoid about the rules? If there is no danger in meeting Sergio, is this nothing more than something happening?

[What Came Before]

#94

Today, in the washroom, in the stall, I am trying to tear down the mansion I've built in my mind. The impossible island that I've scaffolded with pseudo-spurious logic, where people I jerk off to all know each other but are some how always interested in me.

I'm thinking of the couple I saw on the train, one of those beautiful power couples and I'm trying to think of them fucking in this stall - his head shoved up her skirt and she's biting hard on her lower lip not to scream - I'm sitting in but I just can't seem to keep them from screwing on an emperor's bed, fucking for me rather than for each other.

And before I know it I'm feeding into the imaginary world I've made, this place where people know me and love me and hang not just on my dick but on my every word...

[What Came Before]

NOTE: I hope this post comes out right, my computer's being a bitch and I'm running in safe-mode, so everything's wonky as fuck. I can barely even read what I'm typing.


Anyways, awesome insight from both of you guys. Callan, the "data feed" thing is definitely part of what was bothering me, and you nailed it on the head.

Sci, what you mentioned about Sergio's intentions are also very true. Again, I think this is part of why it felt lackluster to me, or just kind of flat. It's funny because in context, there is supposed to be a subtle vein of paranoia going on with Nero throughout the meeting that's about to happen, despite the fact that these two guys know each other very well and maintain what I suppose you could call a "friendly" relationship, even if it is primarily based on business (though Sergio is also Nero's long-time girlfriend's uncle, almost a father-figure to her, so there's that level to it as well -- sort of the unstated "Don't you hurt her" kind of thing, only in the case of these guys they're basically all sociopathic murderous vampire gangsters, so it's a little more serious).

#93 Where Echoes Terraformed the World

A lover's sigh can water Eden, a dying gasp can birth a sun. In this place, celestials and fiends attack each other with war cry accusations shot through with undercurrents of missionary whispers. An exemplar can fall and rise in the span of an hour, its core Self battered by the lingual cacophony that makes every breath a battlefield contested by thousands.

Words, symbols, signs, all signifiers are intimately tied to signified concepts of alignment and element, but the words of power must be spoken to enable their effect. Because of this, there are many prisoners who are found with their tongues cut out. This silencing in turn has led to advancements in glyph and rune magic, as the sudden handicap, the inability to chisel reality, is too much for most exemplars to bear.

Okay, I thought this was awesome and I really want to hear more about it. Do more! I especially like:

Words, symbols, signs, all signifiers are intimately tied to signified concepts of alignment and element, but the words of power must be spoken to enable their effect. Because of this, there are many prisoners who are found with their tongues cut out.

[What Came Before]

Thanks Francis -> Might try to add to echo-verse!

#95

Story

Eros's arrow struck deeper and wider than is usual for that God's domain. I realize that now, watching you teach and tend to the children in your orphanage. Those deep crowsfeet are proof of all your sleepless nights, proof of all your compassion.

You are my shepherd, when you take me inside yourself I have no need for any other Savior.

By loving you, I have learned to love the world.

/Story

[What Came Before]

Sunday #96

Story

I put my fingers to my nose, index and middle. I sniff, and pretend there's a ghost of a smell, like after you wash your hands post fingering a girl but don't use soap.

This is one of the tricks I use to distract the tireless Oestrus who shares my flesh with me, the husband/tumor/mummudrai that lives in my skull.

/Story

[What Came Before]

The very temporary, very experimental opening to my fantasy.

------

The elk moved along the stony shore with a silence that seemed to defy its size. At the shoulder it was nearly the height of a man, and the long, twisted black antlers that protruded from its skull added a full two feet. It seemed to lay down slowly -- as if to take a nap -- after the arrow appeared just below its jaw.
   Jixer pulled another from the quiver at his hip, nocked it, then drew back the string between calloused fingers. The tension of it was familiar to him, like the smell of a childhood home revisited after many years.
   The elk's quiet calm was gone, replaced by a sudden gurgling shriek and blood spraying from its mouth. A flock of birds erupted from the canopy above. Jixer took aim.
   “Don't waste the wood,” said a voice from behind –- his cousin, Lok. Jixer had almost forgotten he was there. That seemed to happen a lot when he was hunting. As if he fell into a sort of trance.
   Lok moved towards the elk with caution, spear in one hand, bow in the other, and circled around so that he was facing its back, away from the thrashing antlers and kicking hooves. In a single practiced jab, he thrust the spear into the soft spot just below the creature's nape, severing the spinal cord and killing it instantly.
   “You're getting good at that,” said Jixer. “But could you do it to a man?”
   “When the time comes.”
   Lok knelt beside animal, setting down his weapons and producing a long hooked knife from his belt. Jixer grabbed the elk's back legs and held it belly-up, while his cousin ran two fingers across the creature's chest until he found the sternum. Then he sunk the blade in, cutting along the body through three layers of skin, muscle, and membranous tissue.
   “A better question is, could you do it to a bull?” asked Jixer.
   “Probably.”
   “Probably isn't good enough. It's only a few weeks until our Rite.”
   “There's more than one way to kill a bull,” said Lok as he reached into the elk's rib-cage and grabbed hold of it's seeping innards.


-----

I really want to include the Nabokovian "trick sentence", where it leads into one thing only to result in something else entirely (can't remember the actual term for it). I'm also trying to evoke the sort of duality of peacefulness and violence that goes along with hunting. I'm also trying to cram as much exposition as possible into as little time as possible, since there's a fairly large amount of cultural bullshit I have to get across without overwhelming the reader. I really want to avoid an overflow of fantasy words and terms, at least in the first chapter, which is why I started with something fairly accessible (hunting). Regardless, I like the concept of it, but not the language, which (as often happens) feels kinda clunky to me, particularly the exchanges between Lok and Jixer for some reason.

[What Came Before]

I guess I would press the old emphasis on first lines. Is there a theme in the book, perhaps along the lines of unthinking human exploitation of natural beuty? Even if that's one of many themes in the book?

I'd be tempted to use something like "The elk moved along the stony shore with a silence that seemed to defy its size, unaware of it's taste or how it flesh smelled roasting above a fire."

Perhaps an overlong sentence there, but the idea there is to take the first line of the book and add a knife to twist in the readers gut - "It's a beutiful elk, why should it know about it's taste and...oh, oh no...". I know, it'd more give away the arrow to throat thing, but it's just what came to mind first.

I think the first line should be a maxim for one of the books themes and grab at the reader. I'm not sure this first line is a grab?

[What Came Before]

Seems like if you're hunting, you'd sense the person next to you?

I'm not sure the elk lying down slowly feels real. I think rather than go for a trick sentence, have it fall into a peaceful state as it loses blood. After all, it does go into a panic after that sentence so its hard to imagine why its initial reaction is so calm. This will also make the "don't waste the wood" comment more poignant, because now he's waiting for the animal to fall to blood loss, though I think "don't waste the arrow" might make more sense. (Can't he retrieve the arrow though?)

I like the scene, but something about the rhythm feels off. It's also unclear what emotions we should be feeling. The tension of the Rite isn't conveyed. Perhaps if Lox first feels elation at the kill, then annoyance at Jixer's initial questions? And is Lox afraid, and annoyed at being questioned? Is he pushing away his anxiety, and annoyed Jixer is so keen to discuss it?

[What Came Before]

Can't he retrieve the arrow though?

I was thinking that, but shattering an arrow against stone on a missed shot (or even on hitting a bone) or simply spoiling it's straightness by using it...petty concerns, but that sort of nails down the type of decision it is.

Seems like if you're hunting, you'd sense the person next to you?

I'd say, if your focusing on the target, then that's where your focus is.

But it depends - if genre expects a hunter would sense the person near them - well, it depends on how much you want to lean with genre or go against it.