gypsevedius: When does Writer's start?
Ariel.of.Narnia: Now, I guess.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Riiiiight... now.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Seeing's how neither of us have anything to share, I'll proceed with Jaygee's
Ariel.of.Narnia: She says it's chapter one of her original fantasy story
Jaygee shares ~
Ariel.of.Narnia: Elias sighed as he half-listened to Ularon’s lecture to Roald. Jonathan, sitting beside him, appeared to be bored as well. “We cannot take the risk of the ‘Faithful,’ as they call themselves, rising up against us!” the general explained ily.
“So we have to kill all of them? Even the women and children? Children younger than the three of us?” Roald, the newly crowned king of Merjal, pointed to himself, Elias, and Jonathan.
Ularon smiled condescendingly at him. “Roald, what you don’t understand about these rebels is that their children are just as radical as their parents, if not more. And children grow up to become adults who fight against us. These dissenters, remember, are the same ones who killed both your father and Elias’s!”
Elias winced at the callous reference to his father’s death. Jonathan touched his arm, silently comforting his friend.
Roald sighed in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. You certainly have more experience than I do, General.”
“Indeed, which is why you should leave such military matters to my expertise.”
“I don’t know why I even bother to argue with you, for you are always right.”
Elias stood. “If you will excuse me, sire, I believe that I left some work undone in my chambers.”
Roald laughed. “Elias, there is no need for you to stand on ceremony! We’ve been friends since we were but babes in arms. You saw no need for formality when we were children; why should you use it now? But, yes, you are excused.”
“Thank you, Roald.” Elias quickly exited the room, releasing a deep breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He tried not to give an appearance of haste, though all he wanted to do was run to his chambers as quickly as he could and slam the door behind him. Upon arrival, he gently closed the door and leaned his head against it as he slowly exhaled.
“Oh, Father,” he whispered. “Father, Father, Father.” Tears burned at the corners of his eyes as he tried with all his might to block the old memories that were struggling to resurface…
/Elias, Jonathan and Roald were playing one of their favorite games together when a trumpet blast was heard at the gates. “They’re back!” all three boys cheered, leaping to their feet and dashing toward the courtyard to meet their fathers. Other than the fact that their fathers were all nobles, the three shared one more common trait: their mothers were all dead, Jonathan’s while giving birth to his little sister, who had also died, Roald’s of an epidemic, along with almost half the population of Merjal, and Elias’s had been attacked by wolves one evening when she was returning from helping a nearby young mother. They had now all three worried over their fathers going off to war together, afraid one or more of them would become orphans. With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, they all ran to meet their only remaining parent. As usual, Reginald, the king and Roald’s father, was the first to enter, and Roald ran to him, crying, “Father!” and throwing his arms around him. Reginald returned the embrace. Ularon, the general was directly behind them, and Jonathan hurried to cling to him./
/Reginald detached himself from his son after a few minutes and walked over to Elias. “My lord,” the young man greeted. “Is my father following behind with the rest of the army?”/
/Reginald sighed. “Elias…”/
/“Is he wounded? Or possibly captured?”/
/“Elias…” Reginald turned and pointedly looked at soldiers removing a roll of cloth wrapped something shaped like a body from a horse./
/“No. No. No, he can’t be dead. No! Father! No!” His screams echoed. Jonathan and Roald exchanged sympathetic glances. While they had always feared something like this happening, none of them had ever actually thought it would. Reginald laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Elias.” /
/“May-maybe there’s been some mistake. Maybe it was someone else,” he choked out through his tears. /
/“No, Elias. It’s him. He must have stepped out of his tent one night for some fresh air and accidentally wandered outside the camp’s boundaries.”/
/“How can I go on without him?” the boy wondered, almost inaudibly./
/Reginald smiled at the boy wistfully. “While I know you do not mean physical needs, Elias, I promise you that you shall never lack for anything.”/
/“Thank you, sire,” he managed to whisper, before whirling around and running into the castle, tears streaming down his face. “Why did you have to die?”/
Shaking himself out of his memories and brushing away the lingering tears, Elias strode to his wardrobe and removed an old saddlebag, one that hadn’t been used for years, by the looks of it. He lifted the leather to his nose and inhaled, sitting on his bed as he did so. “I miss you so much.” He opened the bag and removed the contents one at a time, relishing the memories each itself induced. His hand hit the base of the sack, eliciting a sigh. He pressed his hand against the side, seeing it from the outside. Elias’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Wait… that’s not quite the bottom,” he realized. Several inches still remained. He excitedly felt around the false bottom, finally finding the grooves he was searching for. Pulling them, he became elated upon its giving way. “What could be in here, and how have I never noticed this?” he breathed in suspense, removing the leather piece and lifting the hidden contents.
“What are all these papers?” As he rifled through them, they began to make sense. “Diagrams of the army’s camp? Battle plans? A diagram of this castle? Father, why did you have these? And why were they hidden?”
The last paper to appear looked to be a letter addressed to him. He carefully wiggled the seal free from the back of the envelope. The pages crinkled as he removed them. His father’s words were as clear as they must have been the day he had written them.
/Dear Elias,/
/My son, oh, how you must be hurting. For I know that if you have discovered this letter, I must have joined your mother in death. I will not ask you not to mourn for me, but do not become lost in grief. For I am yet alive, safe in the arms of the One./
Elias froze. /What? The One? Father was one of the “Faithful”? Surely not!/ He quickly returned to the letter.
/Yes, I know you are shocked, surprised, and quite possibly disappointed. How I wanted to tell you. How I wanted to share with you the faith that has sustained me for many years. I never did simply because I did not wish to place you in danger./
/The papers, as I’m sure you have guessed by now, were my own way of helping the Faithful cause. Yes, my son, I am a spy for Prince Alderan of the Faithful. I know that you are certainly confused, so I will explain how I began to aid the Faithful. /
/I am sure that you remember the story of when your grandfather and I were captured by the Faithful. You have heard that he was murdered by them, but that was not quite how it happened. You see, we accidentally wandered into the boundaries of their camp. They surrounded us, asking us (quite politely, I might add) to surrender our weapons to them. They assured us that we would not be harmed if we did so. Your grandfather refused, attacking their leader. He was dreadfully outmatched and in only a few moments was disarmed. Yet they did not harm him, only defeat him. Shock gripped me, and I quickly dropped my small dagger. As they approached to take us with them, I clearly remember the look on your grandfather’s face. He was prepared to attack./ /And attack he did. He grabbed the sword of the man closest to him, stabbing him in the stomach. Before he could slay any more of them, the men slew him. I was but a youth then, around your age as I write this, but I was still sickened by Father’s actions. /
/They took me back to their village, treating me gently and compassionately, despite my being stunned, grieved, and rather unaware of my surroundings. I was taken before their prince, whose name was Alderan, who was kinder to me than I would ever have expected. All that had happened that day caught up to me while he was speaking with me, and I collapsed into sobs. He wasn’t much older than I was, I later learned, and had recently lost his father, so I suppose he understood my feelings. At first, all he did was place an awkward hand on my shoulder. I imagine he thought that the last person I would want comfort from was him, and had I not been crying so hard, he would have been right. But when I only cried harder, he wrapped his arms around me and held me as I cried./
/Once my tears had subsided somewhat, he ordered that I be escorted to a room where I could rest. Upon arrival, I collapsed on the bed, barely even noticing the click as the door was locked from the outside. The only other person I saw that day was a man who brought me my supper, and he said nothing and only gave me a small smile before departing.
For around a week, that was the pattern of my days. I either lay still and cried or paced around the room and cried, only seeing people at mealtimes. Despite my ingrained beliefs about the Faithful, none of them mocked my grief or even spoke anything beyond a “Hello,” “Good morning,” “Good evening,” or “Goodbye.” /
/Slowly, as I dragged myself out of the deepest throes of my mourning, I began to realize that I had been lied to all my life. The Faithful were not the cruel, lawless people I had believed they were; instead, they were kind, compassionate, humble, and gracious to me. Even Prince Alderan was sympathetic, something I would never have expected Reginald to be toward the Faithful, despite our friendship. Alderan was the first person to tell me the truth about the One and His love for the world, even me./
/After I had been living among them for over a month, Alderan asked me a question I would never have expected to hear. He asked me if, upon my return, I would attempt to locate their spy, who had not been in contact with them for some time, and they had begun to be concerned. Upon hearing the name, I had the sad duty to tell him that his spy had been arrested for treason and executed. Hiding his grief for a moment, he then turned to me. “Faron?” he asked. “Would you do something for me?”/
/I immediately guessed his intent. “No. No, no, no, no. I can’t. Not even for you, Alderan.”/
/“Please. Won’t you even think about it?”/
/“Alderan, Prince Reginald is one of my best friends! I can’t betray him! It isn’t that I don’t trust you, but I cannot be responsible for his death! I cannot believe you would ask that of me!”/
/“He will not be put to death, Faron. I can’t believe you would think that of me! His life will be spared, even if his father fights us to his death.”/
/“I-I don’t know. Can I have time to think about it?”/
/He gave me a small smile. “Of course. Do you think you will be decided by tomorrow?”/
/“I might be.”/
/“Good. I shall speak with you then.”/
/I nodded and was escorted to my room. I paced back and forth all that night, sometimes falling to my knees in prayer, sometimes sinking to the ground in despair. Tears sprang to my eyes at about midnight and they didn’t stop until the sun showed its face in the early morning. I stood at the window, gazing at the horizon. I breathed out a prayer, “What should I do?”/
/All of a sudden, everything became clear. If I deny my earthly king, I keep my allegiance to my heavenly King. If I remain true to Reginald, I deny the One. The first is temporary. The second is eternal. I knocked on the door, knowing that there was a guard out there. (Alderan had assured me that he was there more for my protection than for the protection of the community. I wasn’t sure if I believed him or not.) “Excuse me? Is it too early for me to speak for Prince Alderan?”/
/Well, my son, as you know, a few weeks afterward I left their midst, though I was escorted to the outskirts of their camp, instead of the escape you have been told of. Upon arrival at the castle, I was greeted warmly, although I had to lie about my “imprisonment.” My reconnaissance began almost immediately. /
/I met your mother a few years later. She was the first person to whom I told my secret. She married me anyway, and after a few years, she, too, followed the One. Then you were born. We agreed that we could not tell you of our faith until you were old enough to understand that it must never be told to anyone. I continued to gather intelligence for Alderan. /
/A few years ago, Reginald and I began to talk about a new piece of legislation that would make the worship of the One legal. That was a ground-breaking development, and Alderan and I allowed ourselves some excitement in hope that it would be passed. Then Ularon found out about it, and he began to put pressure on Reginald to forget about it. Reginald was unwilling to do so, thank the One, but he placed in my care, for safe keeping, two copies of the document. One I keep with me at all times. The other is hidden in the library. There is a hollow book on the top shelf of the last bookcase before the entrance to the restricted section. Look inside, my son. You will see that I am telling the truth./
/I know this letter was quite long, and there was much information in it for you to digest. All of it goes against everything you have been taught since you were small, but every word of it is true. Think on what I have said, Elias. Research for yourself the accuracy of my tale. Read the restricted books, as by this age you must surely have access to them. If you have an opportunity, meet Prince Alderan. Tell him you are my son. He will be kind to you, just as he was to me. Also, do not place your faith in Ularon. He hates the One and His followers. I believe that he suspects my shift in loyalties, and you know as well as I how ruthless he is and how much of a grudge he holds against the Faithful, though I do not know his reasoning. But no matter what might happen, my son, trust in the One, and He will never fail you./
/With much love,/
/Your father/
Elias carefully lowered the letter to his lap, taking several deep, fortifying breaths. My father followed the One? /My father was a spy? /He read the letter once more. /Wait… what’s that about a law?/ Elias bit his lip. Looking wouldn’t do any harm, would it? He got up and picked up his key ring, fingering the key that unlocked the door to the restricted section of the library that his father had talked about. Tonight. I will look tonight. Elias laid down on his bed to take a nap, since he would likely be awake most of the night.
Ariel.of.Narnia: And that is chapter one of Jaygee's story
Ariel.of.Narnia: Comment away!
Ariel.of.Narnia: (hello, Will and Ed)
Sir-William: *waves*
Ariel.of.Narnia: I know you came in partway, but do you have any comments for Jaygee?
gypsevedius: That was great!
Sir-William: Oh, so this is her story?
Ariel.of.Narnia: Yes, it is her story. She is unable to attend writers', so she asked me to share for her
Sir-William: Whoops, you just said that,
Sir-William: Lol, okay
Ariel.of.Narnia: Personally, I found the letter to be too detailed, especially where dialogue was concerned. Maybe I'm just lazy, but I wouldn't myself put all that work into a letter.
Ariel.of.Narnia: And while the use of a flashback was good, I think the information in that scene might be better given by other means.
Lil: I liked it
Ariel.of.Narnia: I do like the way the story is headed, don't get me wrong. It'll be interesting to see how the two sides play out, especially once things get personal
Ariel.of.Narnia: Does anyone have anything further to add?
Ariel.of.Narnia: Okay. Does anyone have anything to share?
Sir-William: *has finished reading the section of story available. Likes the name "Prince Alderan", but wonders if it is too close to the planet that was destroyed in Star Wars: A new Hope*
Sir-William: Other than that, it was great, though!
Sir-William: smiley-lol
Ariel.of.Narnia: That's why that name sounded familiar! Except that one is "Alderaan", yeah?
Sir-William: Yup
Sir-William: You even spelled it right
Ariel.of.Narnia: Don't ask how, 'cause I don't know.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Was there anything that stuck out to you, Will?
Sir-William: Please don't ask me.
It was fun to read. Ariel.of.Narnia: Haha, alright
Ariel.of.Narnia: Have you anything to share?
Sir-William: Me? Nope, sorry
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well. My story's not done yet either, so I have nothing to share myself
Ariel.of.Narnia: Anyone up for a challenge?
Sir-William: Err..depends on what it is
Lil: *started writing*
Lil: But word lost my recovered documents
Sir-William: Sorry to hear that, Lil
Ariel.of.Narnia: @Will: how about you pick?
@Lil: I'm sorry!
Sir-William: I hope you didn't lose too much?
Sir-William: Oh brother, let me think
Sir-William: Maybe....hmmm
Sir-William: *rolls dice*
Sir-William: Something by the sea?
Sir-William: With wooden ship wrecks and treasure?
Ariel.of.Narnia: Sure, why not?
Sir-William: I don't know, but just the sea and beach in general would do
Sir-William: Okay
Ariel.of.Narnia: What's my time limit?
Sir-William: Infinity
Sir-William: But for me it's 10 minutes
Ariel.of.Narnia: Haha, thanks
Sir-William: I might go to 15, though
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well, just pop back in here once you're done!
Ariel.of.Narnia: Ready and...
Sir-William: Sure
Ariel.of.Narnia: Go!
Lil: I know of a poem about ships
Lil: Say but unfortunately someone else wrote it
Lil: Say years before me
Ariel.of.Narnia: Perhaps you could write one of your own?
Ariel.of.Narnia: How are you doing, Will? I might actually be near the end of mine
Ariel.of.Narnia: Will?
Sir-William: I'm just about done
Ariel.of.Narnia: Okay, me too.
Sir-William: I'm done, but I can always spell check a bit
Ariel.of.Narnia: Okay. Just give me a couple more minutes. (*sigh* that’s my trademark, isn't it? )
gypsevedius: smiley-razz
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): *trots in*
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): *gives everyone a thumbs up*
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): *trots out because she interrupted*
Sir-William: smiley-razz
gypsevedius: smiley-razz
Ariel.of.Narnia: Almost... almost
Ariel.of.Narnia: Go ahead and share, Will
Sir-William: Ok.
Sir-William: By the way, sorry about changing tenses so many times in this story. I kind of meant to on purpose, but still
Sir-William shares ~
Sir-William: The blue-green waves became transparent as they washed up on to the shore, scattering shells in their wakes. But amidst the sand and shifting shells there was something that lay on the beach unmoved. It was large, very large, but also beautiful. It was the wreck of a seventeenth-century sailing ships laying partially on its side.
Many boards were missing from its weathered hull, and yet there remained enough to block all view of the inside compartments when viewed from even short distances. But if one was to put one's eye up to one of the many cracks or spaces in or between the planks, the inside of the ship could be seen clearly.
And if you were to look through the spaces in this ship's hull, you might be surprised at what you would see. Instead of more sand and wood, you would see a great assortment of the strangest objects to be found in a sailing ship.
A wooden band leader painted red; a large assortment of wooden blocks were scattered about and mixed with poth plastic and ivory dominoes; Many toy soldiers and dolls with bright outfits stood about or were propped up against the wall. And (that's irony for you) a model ship.
But after your eye sees these objects and more, you would surely notice the layers of blankets, sheets, and quilts that covered the floor of the ship. A picnic basket of woven reads lay nearby, resting atop a mountain of pom-poms. And over this whole scene was cast the most beautiful patterns of light and shadow that were brought forth by the sun shining through the cracks in the ships hull.
There were more than enough cracks and even several gaping holes in the top deck of the ship to allow the sun to penetrate into the space below. It was by no means dark, and there were even several sun rays visible coming through a space where the aft deck hatch had once been.
The sound of the sea and the whipping of the pieces of tattered sail canvas from the two surviving masts above your head would surely call you inside. But rather than attempting to climb up on to the rather perilously fragile deck and then down into ship's hull, it would be better if you circled the shipwreck first. Ah ah! You've seen it, haven't you. There's a wide crawl space near the bow of the ship that allows you to enter.
The sea sounds different from within the wooden cavity, and it's also slightly muffled. The many blankets and quilts no doubt help with that. There were pictures on the wall, and letters in a little leather chest nearby. Several partially used candles were laying nearby in case it was too dark to read. But a clue lies here.
What is it. An ink bottle and quill pen lay nearby, and a typewriter, buried beneath at least a dozen old books. The letters were written with the type writer, so what was the ink bottle and quill pen for.
And then beneath the last stack of books you find a gorgeous, little journal. The bookmark was made of a strip of cut lace glued on top of colored paper. The sun is still high and there is yet time left in the day. With a happy sigh you nestle into the blankets to read a story that you found,
...a treasure buried in the sand....The End
Ariel.of.Narnia: Ooh!
Ariel.of.Narnia: I'd like to check that out!
Ariel.of.Narnia: I really am almost done, I promise
Sir-William: Okay
Lil: smiley-lol
Ariel.of.Narnia: Like, one more sentence
Sir-William: lol
Ariel.of.Narnia: Okay
Ariel.of.Narnia: Done
Ariel.of.Narnia: *looks at time and blushes*
Ariel.of.Narnia: Yikes...
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): smiley-razz
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): RECORD!
Ariel.of.Narnia: I need to work on this...
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): IT'S A RECORD!
gypsevedius: smiley-razz
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): smiley-wink
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): *is no longer here*
Ariel.of.Narnia: Record for short time? Yikes.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Anyway
Ariel.of.Narnia shares ~
Ariel.of.Narnia: Stan quickened his kicks and the dark shape ahead began to grow more defined: a ship. What must have been a very proud one, once upon a time. So it is here! Now to see what it has in store.
He swam around The Siren first. She was a decent size for her time period, if the locals were right about the timing of the wreck. And yes, certainly a once-proud ship. Even down here, in her final resting place, she was beautiful, not even a hole in her hull – at least, none that he could see. She was fashioned to be swift. Her masts must have held sails enough to catch even the slightest breeze. All about her, she was decorated with the magnificent forms of mermaids, the one on the prow being the most impressive of all – and obviously the reason for the ship’s name. The locals had been right about her beauty.
Stan readied his light and swam up to the deck to find his way below decks. The fact that there had not been a direct entry through the hull niggled in the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside. The locals may have been right about the timing of the wreck and the ship’s beauty, but that business about a curse was just an urban legend. Had he not been swimming, he would have been trembling with excitement. /Who knew that my childhood dreams could actually be realized? /
Down, down into the dark he went, shining his light this way and that. He hoped there weren’t any predatory fish down here to startle. The thought almost drove him right back out the way he’d come, but there wasn’t a single movement beyond his own. Onward he pressed, searching, searching. But it all seemed to be your standard storerooms and crew quarters, all empty but for the bones of the unfortunate crew members who had sunk with the ship all those years ago. Though they were a little upsetting to look at, Stan had at least expected to see as much, so it wasn’t too much of a scare whenever he found another. All the same, they were creepy enough to make him feel as though he was being watched.
But he had found nothing else. Not what he’d hoped to find. He decided to swim all the way to the end at least, before heading back. /Oh, hey! Lucky I did!/ For there, on the floor toward the bow of the ship, was another hatch. And was that – /Gold?/ Stan picked up the coin and examined it. /The locals were right!/ He couldn’t get sliding lock open fast enough.
Sure enough, there was a whole third level to this ship and it was full of treasure. /All this treasure! And I’m the one to actually come down and find it!/ The gold rushed up to greet him as he swam down to its level. Jewels sparkled and gleamed as he passed his hand over them. Opening up the backpack he’d brought with him for the purpose, he scooped up as much of the treasure as he thought he could reasonably carry back up to the surface. And that’s when he saw /it/.
How Stan had missed it before, he hadn’t the sligh. The stone was about the size of his hand and set in an intricate silver setting that declared it “The Siren’s Eye”. It was beautiful and almost seemed to glow of its own accord. The stone was of a watery, aquamarine colour, but it shimmered with the slightest hints of greens and pinks and whites. Transfixed, he reached out and picked it up. It had to be worth more than everything he had stuffed into his backpack. /Man, the locals will wish they’d checked this thing out themselves ages ago!/
Treasure in hand, he swam back to the hatch, but – /Doh! I should have made sure that would stay open for me./ He tried to push against it, but it wouldn’t budge. Almost as if….
/Is it just me, or is the stone brighter? What am I thinking, I need to find a way out of here so I can get back before my oxygen runs out!/
But he wasn’t imagining it. Nor did he imagine smaller, similar lights coming at him from all around. Or the violent force that ripped off his oxygen tank or the hands that pawed at him or the nails that dug into him. Even more frightening, though, was the visage of the not-quite wooden face that stared into his before he sank down to join a whole slew of unfortunates who had sunken, not with the ship, but of their own accord.
Ariel.of.Narnia: The end
Sir-William: Wow, do you usually write stores like that?
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): o.o
Ariel.of.Narnia: A-heh
Ariel.of.Narnia: Um
Ariel.of.Narnia: No
Sir-William: That was incredibly written, but rather ghastly
Ariel.of.Narnia: My sci-fi stuff tends to go that direction, but I don't write too much of that
Ariel.of.Narnia: Yeah, it kinda was...
Sir-William: Lol, his blood is on your head, Ariel!
Sir-William: You've done this!
Ariel.of.Narnia: *snerk* yeah... along with other characters...
Sir-William: Lol, just kidding.
It was great Sir-William: Hahaha
Ariel.of.Narnia: Haha, don't worry, my RL friends like to bug me about it too
Sir-William: *sees*
Ariel.of.Narnia: "Oh, we better not get her mad at us or she'll write us into one of her stories and kill us off!"
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): smiley-razz
Sir-William: LOLOL
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well. That was fun (if creepy). Thanks for choosing the topic, Will!
Sir-William: Thanks for using it!
Ariel.of.Narnia: Heehee, you sure you want to be thanking me for it?
gypsevedius: smiley-razz
Sir-William: Haha smiley-wink
Ariel.of.Narnia: Anybody want to critique it before I end up posting it somewhere on the interwebs?
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): I want to applaud one thing.
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): Your ending was very clear. I didn't have to take a reread before I realized what was going on. As... opposed to others of your stories *blush*
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): This was very concise. Well done.
Sir-William: Yes, and everything that Tenny just said and all that, yes, yes smiley-razz
Ariel.of.Narnia: Oh, good!
Ariel.of.Narnia: I wasn't sure how much of that would be clear since I didn't wanna, you know, say anything...
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): Also, you made me feel like I was sinking beneath the waves o.O
Ariel.of.Narnia: Thanks, Tenny. I'll try to keep any other stories of this nature to that standard.
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): smiley-razz
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): I do have /ooone/ question about the ending.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Uh-huh?
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): What /did/ rip off the oxygen tank? O.O Shark?
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): Or was that fiiiiiigurative. In which case that was not clear at ALL *shake*
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well... what kills him?
Ariel.of.Narnia: Somethings with hands and nails and not-quite wooden faces
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): Mermaids? o.O
Ariel.of.Narnia: You got it.
gypsevedius: smiley-surprise
Ariel.of.Narnia: *chuckles*
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): I WAS RIGHT!
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): *only actually read the ending*
Sir-William: lol
Sir-William: But why would sweet, little mermaids do that?
Ariel.of.Narnia: The idea is that the decorative mermaids all over the ship are actually... alive.
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): Beware, beware! That's what they WANT you to think!
Ariel.of.Narnia: And very protective of their treasure
Ariel.of.Narnia: Exactly. They are sirens, after all
Sir-William: Spooky
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): The siren part got to me.
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): I was like "OOH, WILL WE SEE MERMAIDS"
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): And then at first didn't see that they were mermaids and was disappointed.
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): But there ARE mermaids! Yay!
Ariel.of.Narnia: So I take it that means that I didn't drop too many hints along the way?
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): Just the right amount.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Good, good
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): Ooh ooh
Ariel.of.Narnia: *realizes that this is her first scary story*
Ariel.of.Narnia: What what?
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): I loved how the ship was named "The Mermaid"
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): I mean
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): The Siren
Ariel.of.Narnia: *grins*
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): And that the sailors sank of their own accord. That part was cool.
Ariel.of.Narnia: *grins again*
Tenethia Brandybuck (Mod): And that's it
Ariel.of.Narnia: Heehee, thank you
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well, on that note then, I guess we can dismiss Writers' for the night.
Writer's Group dismissed ~
