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Tell no Tales- rewrite (NSW, R (language), COMPLETE)


Jidai Geki

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Was wondering when we'd see Ferrer again. The thought of Ferrer and 'our band' duking it out in the city is an interesting one, but not to the style that has been established for our group.

 

As Delta said, the dialogue is excellent, flows well, and the tensions, hatred and accent all leap of the screen.

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Penelope returned from the toilet a few minutes later- Jason often wondered idly just what they did in there that took so bloody long, anyway- and he thanked the gods that she hadn't come back whilst Ferrer was still sitting there. If she had”¦ things would have gone very badly indeed for all of them.

 

”œWell, shall we- are you ok?”

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Well, looks like Silas isn't inclined towards reading anymore, so I'll just plug on with the updates.

 

Sorry broski, I got caught up in real life. I'm working on catching up at the moment.

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No worries, Silas.

 

----------------------------------

 

They finally allowed Jason to see her several hours later, after a frantic, wild-eyed dash across the city in search of the nearest police station. Several horseless drivers flat-out refused to take him, not even slowing down for the flustered, bellowing, bruised youth swinging his arms like a man possessed at the side of the road. In his panic he had almost forgotten the parcels they had been sent out to buy in the first place.

 

At the forefront of his mind was emblazoned the image of the cargo ship they had bought passage on. Leaving in fourteen hours. Besides it was the image of Pen languishing in jail, her friends long gone as both her father and Ferrer searched doggedly for her.

 

They had to get her out. They simply had to.

 

The dockyard police station was only a mile or so away- Jason hadn't known this, or else he would have simply hoofed it over to the building rather than have wasted precious minutes trying to flag down a horseless- and was one of the queerest buildings he had ever seen in his life. Its stately, Beforetime-influenced stone edifice was dominated by a huge marble statue of a crowned, shield-bearing woman fixed into the wall over the entrance, but the most striking thing about the building was the ubiquitous steam mechanisms and clockwork contraptions that cocooned the building, festooning it like the metallic implants of a Promethean cabern. The machinery revolved and rotated tirelessly, thrumming with muted diligence as it powered whatever systems it powered within the confines of the police station.

 

The desk sergeant within, a thin, mousy man with a salt-and-pepper moustache and a neat navy uniform addled with brass buttons and black leather straps, proved to be about as helpful as Jason had expected. No, he couldn't see the girl. She was being questioned. No, there was no chance of bail until after the arraignment, which would be two or three days away. Yes, he could wait. No, he had no idea it would be until he could see her.

 

About three hours later, an increasingly leaden feeling of frustration and despair creeping into Jason's stomach as he obsessively glanced at the clock and sighed in impotent anger, they finally allowed him to see her.

 

”œI am Grootin' hell, Pen,”

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Did not expect Jason to hit Xi like that.I know they're not exactly fond of each other, but he just never came across that way.

 

I'm not to surprised at Ossus' decision though. He is very realistic..nor Xi's reaction...her religion etc.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Sorry I didn't get to this one over the weekend Lee. Had a busy weekend myself.

 

Interesting addition. I'm still intrigued as to why Pen breaks down the way she did. I thought it may have been Ferrer initially.

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Ah sweet dear darling Penelope drugging her father to go and save Jason. I love it. You captured her well here. She played the demure dutiful daughter, who happened to have a cunning plan, very well.

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She changed quickly, back into the clothes she had been arrested in. Her father had had those cleaned too- gods knew why, since he almost certainly had no intention of allowing her to wear men's clothing again. Perhaps some part of him knew, as she did, that it wasn't over. Perhaps he knew that he'd have to let her go all over again before it was truly over.

 

She slipped into the plush, crimson-carpeted corridor beyond her father's chambers, and cursed herself instantly as she looked into the eyes of her father's man, Geoffrey.

 

”œWhere d'ye think you're goin', Miss Grosvenor?”

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Very nicely done. Good build up to Kwame's arrival, and escape from Grosvenor Manor.

 

Depending on the pacing you're trying to achieve, you could embellish the description of the ship and the docks etc.

 

Otherwise though, good work.

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Book III

 

The Penultimate Frontier

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Women and Fools

 

The ocean lapped gently at the edges of the flotsam, each swell lifting it gently up before ebbing away, the languorous rolling of the water almost invisible except to those caught in its heat-sapping embrace.

 

Kwame cursed and hauled himself up with a small splash of seawater, grasping the large, warped plank he was clinging to with a fervent strength born of incipient terror. His legs felt numb and leaden now, almost all feeling fleeing the immersed limbs as the cold of the sea began to seep into his body.

 

”œFu- I am Groot,”

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Interesting start to the new section. I can only gather that we'll see what's between the end of Book 2 and the start of Book 3 in a flashback at some point and why our lot are on planks in the middle of the sea, planking with sharks below them.

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Cooper pivoted around, the long, wicked-bladed knife gleaming dully in the clear moonlight, and sprang forward again.

 

The muscles in Locke's calves tensed as he prepared to feint to the left, but with an effort of will he forced the instinctual action away and slowed himself down, allowing the youth to catch him.

 

The youth moved smoothly around him, a swift heel taking one of his legs, and Cooper slammed his hip into Locke's, grasped his arm, and twisted. Locke watched all this impassively, the youth's movements still unbelievably fast, but as he spun away to the ground, tensed for the impact, something occurred to him.

 

He was ready.

 

”œYe're getting' better,”

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Must be running out of what you've written I think...posts have been considerably shorter the last few times then normal.

 

All good.

 

I liked this one...the image of Xi and Kwame arguing out while stammering from cold is quite amusing.

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Well, these bits are broken up more because the scenes themselves are very tightly intercut, so it's either post a short one or post two or three lengthy longer ones. But yes, as you know, I'm getting low now.

 

-------------------------

 

Jason looked out over the vast, undulating sea below, his drink grasped tightly in one hand as he rested against the rail on his elbows.

 

At this time of night, there was almost nothing to see, save the reflected glow of the ship glimmering briefly on the rolling pitch below. A steady, low breeze cut across the open deck, the smell of salt gentle and pervasive. In the distance, floating above the horizon, a cluster of will-o'-the-wisp lights shined dimly above the calm seas.

 

”œS'a Celestopolis,”

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Locke sat calmly in the chair, the quiet solace of the otherwise empty boat both tranquil and unnerving as it bobbed gently on the undulating ocean beneath.

 

In one hand, he clutched one of Cooper's knives, and in the other, a soft chamois cloth. He cleaned the knife reflexively, almost unconsciously, his eyes focused in the distance and his mind, as it so often was, elsewhere.

For the thousdanth time he pinched the cloth on either side of the dully gleaming blade and ran it up and down, cleaning away something that wasn't there.

 

There was a sudden slosh of water and a dull thud. Locke looked up, vaguely surprised, and stared at the fat, dead-eyed fish lying on the deck, a large knife wound slashing down the side of it.

 

A moment later Cooper pulled himself onto the boat, wearing a black-and-white striped one-piece which extended down to his knees.

 

”œProductive swim?”

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Some interesting character development for Cooper here. It's odd to hear him talk so much and to talk about something other then his work. Nicely done though, it feels natural and organic, not at all forced in.

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