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View Full Version : Jasper (Jessepinwheel) vs. Sadko (Sadko)



Jessepinwheel
03-25-2014, 11:31 AM
Characters:
Jasper (Jessepinwheel) (http://forums.stickpage.com/showthread.php?79473-Jasper): Mental sense, bladed bow, knife, can create extensions of his body with shadows
Sadko (Sadko) (http://forums.stickpage.com/showthread.php?81698-Sadko): Guns, knives, prophesying, sense disabling
It was a bad day.

Relentless rain soaked the manís coat all the way through. He sloshed through the street, eyes straight ahead, focused on a lone couple sharing an umbrella.

No sane person would go out on a day like this. Even though it was barely past noon, it was as dark as night. The combination of thick fog and rain destroyed visibility. The storm was deafening and covered all smells with the musk of rain. It was some small wonder that there was no lightning.

So why, then, was this couple out and about? Why, of all places, were they strolling around Chinatown like it was Christmas? And why, of all people, was one of them his hydrophobic target?

He clenched his fist in his pocket, bending the laminated photo he kept there. He memorized the face weeks ago. It was a thin face with thin features--thin nose, thin brow, thin cheeks. Pale skin, red eyes, black hair. Roughed up from wild living, but no notable scars. His given name was Jasper, but he went by other names as well.

The man hadnít asked his employer why he wanted a skinny twenty-something dead. As long as he got paid, he didnít give a ratís ass about who he shot. But heíd be damned if this target wasnít hard to pin down; he was constantly travelling, never in the same place for more than a day at a time, and never unarmed. The man was not an impatient one, but he was growing weary. It had taken over two weeks to find and catch up to the target. Accomplishing that, he couldnít find a good opening to take him out.

At least, until a few days ago.

For no apparent reason, the target had ventured into a town and stayed with this girl, completely against the behavior his file suggested. He stayed there for two days, and now he was out here with her, unarmed, wearing a collared shirt and jeans, walking around Chinatown holding a bag of foreign sweets.

It was the perfect opportunity.

Jasper stopped walking and said something to the girl. He gestured towards a nearby shop. The girl looked at Jasper, said something, then took the bag of sweets from him. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and left with the umbrella, waving back at him.

Jasper watched the girl leave, hands in his pockets, then turned into the shop he had indicated, unaware that he was making a fatal mistake.

The man followed after him, pulling a gun from under his coat and turning the safety off. He went over his inventory: two fully-loaded handguns, two extra magazines, and a combat knife--sixty-eight cartridges and insurance, respectively. One bullet was usually enough, but it never hurt to be sure.

The man stopped before the door. It was a porcelain shop. As with any other Chinatown shop, the shelves were prohibitively close to each other--barely a shoulder-length and a half apart. It wasnít ideal, but it wouldnít matter if he got a clear first shot.

The man pushed the door open, a cheap bell signalling his entrance. As he stepped, the world shifted beneath his feet. Colors flashed in his vision, and he saw himself turning. The target was at his side with a hunting knife in his hand, lunging at himÖ

The man preemptively counterattacked. His fist crashed down to intercept the attackerís skull.

And suddenly, Jasper pulled back. The manís fist swung through empty air. Surprised, he stumbled. Before he could react, there was a flash of silver and a sharp pain across his forehead.

Hot blood flowed down his face and around his eyes. His breath was heavy in shock. What just happened? His future sight was never wrong.

He didnít get the chance to think it through. The world shifted again, and he saw the red knife come down, down towards his throat. Last time it had missed. This time, it would not...

The man didnít think. He pulled back, dodging the knife. He raised his gun and fired without aiming.

Ceramic shattered and there was a scream from the back of the shop. The shopkeeper, probably. This wasnít the time to worry about that. Cold hands grabbed his wrist, wrenching it upwards. The man struggled with Jasper, trying to aim the gun right between those red eyes.

Jasper tried to twist the gun out of the manís grip, but between keeping it pointed away from his face and avoiding spilled blood and water puddles, he couldnít manage it.

The man tried to detach one of Jasperís arms with his free hand, but his enemyís grip was surprisingly strong. He tried to disengage, but Jasper matched his steps, backing him into the display counter. Cursing, the man threw his arms down to the side, throwing the target off balance, and kicked.

Jasper pulled back too slowly and the manís heavy boot clipped him. Not in the kidney, as the man had intended, but the pelvis. He recoiled in pain, freeing the manís wrist. The man aimed and fired.

Jasper sidestepped, but not quite fast enough. The bullet went into his arm, missing the bone, but not the muscle. Clutching his arm, he retreated into the shelves of the shop. The man didnít follow. He needed a moment to recover, too.

He wiped his forehead. The bleeding made him dizzy. The right half of his face was hot and slick with blood. He didnít understand. There wasnít supposed to be a fight. There was supposed to be one gunshot. Clean and simple.

Something had happened. The target had been ready and he was the one caught off guard.

Why had that first blow missed?


Jasper released his arm, assessing the damage. The bullet had ripped through part of his bicep and lodged there, but it had miraculously missed any major arteries, veins, or nerves, so the damage was minimal. That said, he couldnít move his forearm at all. White-hot pain radiated from the wound, cutting deep into the flesh. His ears rang from the gunshots. His hip ached, but that was only a bruise.

The hunter wasnít pursuing him into the shelves. Perhaps he was getting to grips with the last couple of minutes too. Jasper bit his lip. He hadnít expected a fight. Just a knife in the kidney and another across the throat, thatís all it should have taken. But then the man had countered so quickly that Jasper had been forced to withdraw.

A normal person wouldnít have been able to dodge that counterattack, Jasper thought ruefully. It was the brief window between intent and action that allowed him to react. He cast out his mental net. The shopkeeper had fled, and anyone else who had heard the gunshots probably assumed it was the storm, none the wiser to the fight next door. The hunter was still at the door, displeased and confused. Well, that was good. That meant the hunter didnít know his abilities yet.

He felt his arm. Beneath his now-red sleeve, he could feel cold shadows rushing over his skin and filling his wound. Slowly, carefully, the the black mass dislodged the bullet and carried it out, along with some black powder and flecks of metal. He caught the bullet as it rolled out of his sleeve. Now he didnít have to worry about bleeding or getting infected down the line. He dropped the bullet in his pocket and considered his situation.

He was in a better position than the hunter. The hunterís weapon of choice was a gun; he had known that much for over a week now. Those didnít handle well in a small shop like this, as the shelves destroyed maneuverability and visibility. He, on the other hand, didnít need much space because he wasnít using his bow--only an idiot would face a gunman with a bow. He could sense the hunterís location, so reduced visibility was no problem either.

He hadnít known about the hunterís ability to fight in close range. The hunter was somewhat stronger than he was, and about as fast, but he had faced worse before. It was the manís reaction time that really concerned him. It seemed supernatural. Probably was.

Jasper tilted his head from side to side and the tag at the back of his collar scratched his neck. He disliked ďnormalĒ clothes, but it was a necessity for today. Fortunately, collared shirts had stiff, loose sleeves. He shook out his good arm and rolled back his cuffs, uncovering a knife sheath on each arm--one for his obsidian dagger, one for his hunting knife. He slid his dagger out of its sheath and transferred it to his left hand, then unsheathed his hunting knife.

He had carefully stacked this fight in his favor, and he was going to end it.


The man finished applying salve to the gash in his forehead. It could only do so much, but it was enough to keep his eyes clear and further blood loss to a minimum. He was as ready as heíd ever be.

His future sight flashed again. Above him. A porcelain teapot lobbed from behind a shelf...

He moved out of the way, and the teapot shattered on the linoleum, throwing ceramic shrapnel everywhere, cutting into his leg near the impact. He winced. He couldnít afford to wait around. He wanted to end this now.

Silently, he cursed. He didnít know where in these shelves Jasper had disappeared to. He couldnít fire randomly; he didnít want to give his location away and the chance of hitting was slim to none. He drew his knife. It seemed like the right time to call in his insurance policy.

He heard a clink of ceramic and a few pots flew at him from above. He ran out of the way and they smashed on the floor behind him. He rushed into the middle of the shop, looking down rows of shelves for the target.

The man walked from side to side, scanning back and forth without avail. He didnít know how a grown man could disappear so completely in such a small shop. He stopped pacing and listened.

There. Footsteps.

He turned towards the sound and saw a flash of white. He dodged the wrong way and the figurine cocked him straight in the face. He swore.

The man headed after Jasper, knife in his left hand, gun in his right.

Time slowed again as it came before him. A knife snaked out from around the corner, aiming for his sideÖ

He parried Jasperís hunting knife and lunged at him. Jasper ducked beneath his thrust, not so much as wincing as the blade nicked his scalp.

He saw again. This time it was an upwards slash. He moved his knife to parry and aimed his gun where Jasperís head would beÖ

There was a flash of steel as the knives struck. The man pulled the trigger, but Jasper disengaged too quickly. A vase exploded, shards cutting and scratching both fighters.

The man attacked again. He feinted with his knife and thrust with his other arm.

Jasper didnít take the bait. He stepped back and smashed the hilt of his knife into the tendons of the manís wrist, forcing him to drop his gun. It hit the floor with a clatter. Jasper kicked it away.

The man took a step back from Jasper, right hand twitching with pain.

How? How was the target dodging every one of his attacks? It was as if heÖ

No.

Impossible.

The target couldnít possibly have the power. After all, what had he gone through to gain that power himself? He had to do that ritual with that snake, he had to carve that eye into his skin, he had to endure that pit. And now there was this man, not even thirty, with some power that overwhelmed his own?

Ridiculous.

He would not lose.

He flexed his hand, letting his will rise, directing his power at this black-haired wretch.

Cut his vision. Then kill him.

Heat concentrated under his skin. Pain gripped his heart and lungs, but he didnít care. He was going to kill this target, no matter what.

The target staggered, and the man struck. His arm snapped out like a snake, aiming for the throat. For sure, his target was paralyzed with fear. No one could fight suddenly blinded.

For a split-second, those red eyes squarely met his and he faltered. Jasper hopped back, avoiding the manís strike. The moment after the man realized he had missed, Jasperís foot cracked him in the thigh.

There it was again, colors swimming in front of his eyes. Jasperís knife came down upon him, already stained with his blood onceÖ

He swept his knife up to deflect Jasperís and reached for his second gun.

Sparks flew as the knives came together and he froze.

It wasnít by choice. Sharp pain pierced his side, firing what felt like needles through his torso. This time, it wasnít internal.

After what seemed to be the longest time, Jasper slid all seven inches of black glass out of the manís rib cage. As the man crumpled, he looked from the bloody dagger to Jasperís face. There were patches of black swarming across his skin where he had been cut. He could see more blackness frothing out from beneath his collar.

How?

He had blinded his opponent, but that hadnít stopped him from striking the finishing blow.

The finishing blow. That arm was shot. There was no way he could move it.

But then, as Jasper sheathed his knives, he saw. His lamed left arm was enveloped by the shifting black substance. He realized dimly that he had foreseen the attack from the side, but completely missed it for the hunting knife.

Jasper looked down at him, scarlet eyes calm, almost bored.

Perhaps this was the face of a demon, the man thought, blearily conscious of the hot blood filling his punctured lung and spilling out onto the floor.

Jasper turned and walked away. Faintly, the man could hear him talking to that girl.

ďAh, youíre finished. You donít look so good. Will you be all right?Ē the girl asked.

"My arm is on fire and I can't hear very well, but it's nothing permanent.Ē

ďThatís good. Are we even now?Ē

ďThe lure worked, so yes.Ē

Lured.

The target had played him this whole time.

It had been a bad day.
"Mr. Mortisse, rent's due." Raspy voice of the owner of the house spread across the corridor.

"One moment, please." Quickly, Mortisse paced across the room. Suddenly the door was turned open. Mortisse smiled with his thin mouth, handing over the money.

"I'm moving out tomorrow."

"What is that smell?" The obese man locked his eyes on the insides of the house as Mortisse, or should we finally refer to him as Sadko, kept blocking the sight.

"Nothing of importance, monsieur." He slightly bent as to show his respect. Graciously shaping his physionomy as to resemble a wicked smile. The owner wandered off. Sadko withdrew back to his room. He threw his menacing eyes onto the man bound to a leather chair, uncontrollably sweating and edging uncomfortably. He swung out a blade from under his sleeve and began to leave a slightly red trail along the man's cheek. The cloth in his mouth would not let him scream for help.

"I just want to know about Mr. Jasper, please." he twisted the blade without a flinch. The man tried to speak into the cloth. In an instant, the hitman grabbed the cloth out of the man's mouth and threw it on the floor soaked with the poor man's sweat and blood.

Desperately gasping for air, the man began to speak. "Please, let me g-" Sadko slapped him on his blooded cheek.

"Alright! Alright." he nearly wept from pain. "Quarre, facon de miel, house ten. That is all I know." The man plead for his life.

"Go, I'm not going to kill you. You better go down the street or else they'll catch you." He spoke as he cut the man's binds and opened the door for him. Just as soon as the man stormed out of the hotel, Sadko flipped open his old telephone and took a call to his employer.

"Our friend is heading just south of my hotel, you can meet him soon."

"Good. Oi, I see him, get that damned bastard!" The hitman stared out his window. The black truck instantly rammed itself into the wall as several armed men grabbed the fellow and shoved him inside, quickly driving away. Releasing a brief chuckle, he cleaned away the blood and sweat and opened up his briefcase revealing a shining golden magnum.

Strolling out of the hotel he soon found himself staring at a sign just indicating his just-to-be target is nearby. He waited for a couple of minutes, cellphone already resting along his palm soon to begin vibrating and spurting out the ringtone. He instantly hit the accept call button.

"We have transferred money to your account now. We have another friend you must visit, he lives in-"

"Yes yes, Quarre, facon de miel, house ten."

"You're always surprising us." He did not want to speak more to the man. He simply crashed his cellphone onto the ground and began to edge slowly towards the designated building. Slapping his tongue against the bottom of his mouth, spitting out clicking sounds, he moved a little to a tree's shadow. There he is. A young man, perhaps half a decade younger than himself. The target emerged from the building, quickly finding himself staring at his hitman. There he is. With a sudden whirl of adrenaline and hallucinations, his vision threw itself into the wind of clairvoyance. His entire skeleton shook as he began to see the moments which would happen in mere seconds away from the present. With a swift step to the left, analyzing the surroundings, the vision of him whipping out his magnum, the chase, it swung around him, stunned him.

Coming back to his senses, the present, the reality. With a fantastic grin, he whipped out his magnum and let his bullets loose. Quickly slashing the man's hip, the lucky bullet went straight through, the cringeworthy pain striking the man from behind. An easy job, Sadko thought. He thought that until he saw dark matter stick itself to the place where he shot him. As he began to shoot more, Jasper began to run, a shield materialising and brushing off his shots. With a quick step left, Jasper immediately threw himself inside the building, collecting the dark aura around himself to transport him up the stairs as he found the elevator was broken. Instantly released arrows on Sadko made him duck down as a couple shots were narrowly avoided along with a scary death. Ferociously pulling the trigger as to make the opponent shift positions, Sadko moved back to evade cement falling from the stairs. Jasper desperately used a knife to cut open the door into an apartment, while the hitman approached him. Breaking into the house, Sadko wrestled him to the ground.

While he tried to reach for the gun, Jasper kicked away the gun before he could be shot. Surging with a strange kind of confidence, Sadko sent a couple swift kicks to the groin and jabs at the jaws before kicking away Jasper. In an instant, he grasped the magnum and pulled the trigger.

No ammo.

Swinging the magnum at full force, he pulled Jasper by the shirt as to whip him with the golden firearm. But to no avail. A dark matter constructed before his eyes and knocked the weapon out of his hands sending it flying across the kitchen and over to the living room. Grabbing Sadko by his hair, the enraged Jasper began to knee him in the face with a more and more blood-lust. Sliding over the blade which he used to interrogate the other man from under his sleeve, he plunged it deep inside Jasper's side and quickly covered his face as his jaw was about to drop, blood dripping all over the apartment's carpet.

With a snort he blindly moved his hands around the shelves to find a knife or something to fight Jasper. A knife in the right shelf. Sharpened. With a tremendous cough he rolled out the knife and sent it flying at the unexpecting Jasper. It hit him right in the shoulder. With a thud, Jasper leaned on the counter taking quick steps. Drawing a knife out of the shadows, he swung it above his head, twisting it expertly, with an attempt to stab him right in the heart. Suddenly, the shadows almost sliced off Sadko's fingers as he moved to stop it from cutting his neck. With a kick to the abdomen and a quick punch to the temple, the hitman sure was horrified at the vision of one of his fingers falling on the floor. Elbow to the abdomen and soon Jasper rolled into another room.

Quickly jogging in, he slid across the blood-stained carpet, and took cover behind the couch as arrows whizzed above him. As Jasper nocked another arrow, he pushed the couch over and ran across the room, grabbing the unloaded magnum and whipping Jasper across a cheek. Knocking over his opponent, he finally grew bored of the fight. Grabbing a large television, he finally threw it at the lying Jasper. With a tremendous blow, glass erupted like a volcano and spilt everywhere. The sight wasn't a thing you would be happy to stare at. The remaining man, crippled by several blows and holding his hands from falling apart from horrible cuts began to slowly emerge out of the apartment of a god-not-so-lucky person. Surging through his memory and expertly twisting his mind as to spill out all it's secrets, he finally memorised the number of his employer. Slapping away a cellphone of a random bystander, he began to type numbers while stepping back in pain as his blooded fingers rubbed against the buttons of the phone. Pressing the reddened green button, he let out a gasp of pain and relief.

"Done."
May the best writer win. Feedback obviously requested and appreciated.

Ezy
03-25-2014, 05:39 PM
I'd have to go with Jesse, both stories were really good. Really like the build up and setting in Jesse's story. Sadko did a swell job too. Good job u 2 10/10 frontpage. (Can't give critical feedback because I suck at life)

Hewitt
03-28-2014, 12:56 AM
A rating by Ezy that isn't a 1? Who's sucking your dick lately?


Alright. Kidding aside, I would say both pieces are a tie. But I wouldn't vote for either.

Both stories were...well, they ain't bad terrible. They just feel inadequately stupid. And for different reasons. I don't know if it was deliberate or subconcious, but reading both stories made me think how they seem to somewhat reflect both author's moods and actual disposition. Jesse's no-nonsense, meticulous, and engaging Thriller is bogged by showy cerebral sequences and bordering pretentious lack of detail. Sadko's frantic over-the-top Action Blockbuster on the other hand just felt a little too silly at times, just cos it used alot of wrong stupid words that just made me not take things seriously in a bad way.

In short, Jesse's story felt like a John Woo movie that abused the hell out of CGI Bullet-Time sequences. More than usual. And Sadko's story was billed as Lethal Weapon, when I actually saw a bad parody instead. It was so bad, it was hilarious.

I wanna say that I felt cheated with Jesse's use of POVs. You stick to one or the other or go omni. But you never ever switch between both, at least not in one consistent action sequence such as this. It's confusing and cheap. I think you wanted to make this focused on Jasper though, which is why he's the only named character and we never get to see Sadko's name. It doesn't work. If anything, I was just confused even more when both 'he' and 'him' appeared in the same sentence and I didn't know who was what.

We start the story with Sadko's POV, then Jasper as he reacts to the first strike, then Sadko again as he is beatened. But despite all that, even though Sadko's POV was dominating, it's clear that Jasper is the main star. And therein lies the cheapness: All we see of Sadko's defeat and being countered at every turn is how HE gets the punishment and loses. We almost never understand how and why this is happening. We just get his ass kicked because you know...that's how these battles are. It makes Jasper that much more badass, right? Well, it was at most vague to me. I even had to reread a couple of times what did Jasper do exactly that allowed him to beat the Clairevoyance. I'm still a little confused tbh. I would really have loved to see an even POV working both sides out in that critical moment.

Also Jesse's ending felt a little contrived. They're even now? For what? Maybe a little more exploration into the context behind the twist would've been nice. I can see what was attempted though: the intro with the girl was established in order to set up the unexpected end. But if the reader doesn't feel invested in that peripheral/tertiary character, then there's no point making her quip like that in the end. It felt pasted on at the end for the sake of using a Chehkov's Gun like a "I planned writing it all along" kinda way. And while I do appreciate the irony that Sadko's demise was indirectly caused by the very thing he he swore he would never kill, none of this is ever brought up or put into question save for the end and beginning. Like bookends. There's no meat or emotional carriage in between that ties it all together.

And while I can understand why such a setting and plot required no dialogue from both people (There was no reason to talk. It was a hit, after all. I get it.) perhaps a little mild chatter could've saved us some context for the parts that needed some explaining. Most egregious when you had to mention "The target had played him this whole time." I mean, as if we couldn't gather from what was already given that you had to explain that tiny tidbit. If we couldn't gather from it, then it's because you plotted it poorly. Don't magic the message by telling us outright. What's the point.

Oh and most of your sentences are run-ons. Commas are not used that way, dearie.

Sadko's piece is so funny. Lots of wrong words. Lots of contrivance. If you were going for a slapstick style then congratulations. You should've written Sadko's bio as a Lobo-like character then. But for all its intentions, it did not feel like Sadko really never stood a chance and you just decided to have fun with it. To put into context, it feels like in the time Sadko's story was taking place, Jasper had already killed him. And this whole surreal and absurd sequence Sadko writes is just in the euphoric dying dreams of his now bleeding-all-over-the-floor character before Jasper silences him for good. I mean come on! Smashing a TV on top of his head and glass erupting "like a volcano"?! I practically lost it at that point. Best comedy I've ever seen. But as a serious battle in this context, just. No. It's so bad it's bad.

That's all I can say about Sadko's part. Most of his errors are in wrong words. Let's go through some of my nitpicks for both writers:


He clenched his fist in his pocket, bending the laminated photo he kept there.You can't bend a photo by crushing it with your hands into a fist. You can only crumple it.


Jasper watched the girl leave, hands in his pockets, then turned into the shop he had indicated, unaware that he was making a fatal mistake.Run-on sentence. Could be split into two. Also, watch your Subject Verb agreement. You imply that the girl was a man as she was leaving. Either that or you imply that Jasper's hands were in her pockets as she was leaving. Changing the pronouns to direct the subject does not make it right.


He went over his inventory: two fully-loaded handguns, two extra magazines, and a combat knife--sixty-eight cartridges and insurance, respectively.I just find this silly and unrealistic. What is this a videogame? Either he has a bottomless hammerspace menu that requires pressing triangle to open, or this is all tucked under his coat which begs another question: how could Sadko move so fast in the fight when he is encumbered by all that shit?


The man tried to detach one of Jasper’s arms with his free hand, but his enemy’s grip was surprisingly strong.You mean disarm right? Please tell me Sadko doesn't actually have super strength and is literally trying to rip Jasper's arm off.


Jasper pulled back too slowly and the man’s heavy boot clipped him. Not in the kidney, as the man had intended, but the pelvis. He recoiled in pain, freeing the man’s wrist. The man aimed and fired.

Jasper sidestepped,I don't care if you're a human or a half-demon. You can't just recover so quickly from a groin kick. That shit is nasty.


Jasper released his arm, assessing the damage. The bullet had ripped through part of his bicep and lodged there, but it had miraculously missed any major arteries, veins, or nerves, so the damage was minimal.Anatomy begs to differ. The bullet fucking buried itself IN his arm. Nerves and veins, are EVERYWHERE where there is muscle. A better explanation would be is that he just couldn't feel pain like a normal human. But some nerves AND veins would have to be hit. The only major thing is the arteries since its not close to his heart.


He dropped the bullet in his pocket and considered his situation.

He was in a better position than the hunter. The hunter’s weapon of choice was a gun; he had known that much for over a week now. Those didn’t handle well in a small shop like this, as the shelves destroyed maneuverability and visibility. He, on the other hand, didn’t need much space because he wasn’t using his bow--only an idiot would face a gunman with a bow. He could sense the hunter’s location, so reduced visibility was no problem either.This is just a personal opinion of mine but it's something I like to call TAS: Tactical Author Syndrome. This is when the author, through the character's thoughts begins plotting how the battle should be or would go, even though it is not inherent of the character to do so. I briefly touched upon this in my cnc of Cruel's work.

Yes, Jasper is a survivalist and a cerebral fiend. He is not however, perfect to know the inner workings of a quickie mart just from slumping near a corner after being shot. He can't just asses an environment in the heat of battle to give context to the fact that the author is just giving readers a clearer setting and premise. Don't tell us how Sadko has a gun, how unmanueverable the shop is, and how a bow was unusable. Show us how he heard the gunshots and thought to himself how many bullets were possibly left, show us an actual gunfight where bullets flew everywhere and constricted their manuverability---bringing jasper to that foregone conclusion, and show us how Jasper instinctively reached for his bow but felt hesitant as it wouldn't work after all.

No matter how tactical or brilliant these characters are. They are still just human or human-like. They need input to react and draw conclusions. They can't just see all and give the readers one big picture. It feels lazy and unengaging.


The man finished applying salve to the gash in his forehead.The hell did that salve come from? The shop? His hammerspace? He could've easily just ripped his own clothes and made a makeshift bandanna.


He moved out of the way, and the teapot shattered on the linoleum, throwing ceramic shrapnel everywhere, cutting into his leg near the impact.That must be one deadly teapot. Is it filled with ninja stars by any chance? Last I checked, shattered ceramics just sort of cover you in ceramic pieces. Moreso, it doesn't launch its shrapnel at you like it wants to kill you. And even if you can argue that it can at least wound you with a well-placed sharp piece, wouldn't it rip your pants first? Is Sadko wearing shorts in this battle?


Silently, he cursed. He didn’t know where in these shelves Jasper had disappeared to.I had no idea Jasper had the ability to shrink himself and hide in these things.


Jasper hopped back, avoiding the man’s strike. The moment after the man realized he had missed, Jasper’s foot cracked him in the thigh.You try hopping back then kicking your attacker's foot immediately. Impossible. Unless there was a pause in between in which Sadko went "DUH! I MISSED!"


“Ah, you’re finished. You don’t look so good. Will you be all right?” the girl asked.
"My arm is on fire and I can't hear very well, but it's nothing permanent.”If he can't hear very well, how is he clearly answering her question?! He's not nursing his ears or stuttering or being confused about what was asked.
"Mr. Mortisse, rent's due." Raspy voice of the owner of the house spread across the corridor.Dear lord first line. A voice is not contageous. It doesn't spread like a fucking plauge.


"One moment, please." Quickly, Mortisse paced across the room. Suddenly the door was turned open. Mortisse smiled with his thin mouth, handing over the money.Dear lord second line. A door can't suddenly turn open. Burst, yes. Slam, yeah. Smash, okay. But turn...is what doors normally do. Also why is Mortisse's mouth handing over the money. You guys have some weird rent-collecting fetishes.


He threw his menacing eyes onto the man bound to a leather chairYou throw a gaze at people. You don't fucking pop your eyeballs out and throw it at the guy.


"What is that smell?" The obese man locked his eyes on the insides of the house as Mortisse, or should we finally refer to him as Sadko, kept blocking the sight.Dear lord this voice-catching, mouth-laundering man is our protagonist?! Why fucking call him Mortisse to begin with?


"Nothing of importance, monsieur." He slightly bent as to show his respect. Graciously shaping his physionomy as to resemble a wicked smile. So he contorted his body to resemble a smile. What the fuck am I reading, a Dali painting?


"Yes yes, Quarre, facon de miel, house ten."

"You're always surprising us." Why BOTHER beating the shit out of someone for info when he was just gonna be informed in the next second?! His bio doesn't match up. Is this a man who is UNDERSTANDING? Apparently yes. Understandably stupid.


He simply crashed his cellphone onto the groundLike he actually took the phone and made airplane noises like he was feeding a baby as he bashed it on the pavement making explosion sounds with his teeth. You don't crash things with your bare hands! GOD.


There he is. With a sudden whirl of adrenaline and hallucinations, his vision threw itself into the wind of clairvoyance. His entire skeleton shook as he began to see the moments which would happen in mere seconds away from the present. I can't even explain how your own fucking skeleton is suppose to shake INSIDE you. Also, "Winds of Clairvoyance"? Seriously?


he whipped out his magnum and let his bullets loose. Quickly slashing the man's hip, the lucky bullet went straight throughBullets don't slash.


Instantly released arrows on Sadko made him duck down as a couple shots were narrowly avoided along with a scary death.Jasper's arrows are heavy and his shots are slow. Also releasing arrows is something the wielder does, not what the target is feeling >_>


While he tried to reach for the gun, Jasper kicked away the gun before he could be shot. Surging with a strange kind of confidence, Sadko sent a couple swift kicks to the groin and jabs at the jaws before kicking away Jasper. In an instant, he grasped the magnum and pulled the trigger.I just find it funny that in both Jesse and Sadko's versions of the tale, Jasper's fate appears to be kicked in the crotch and shot at.

That's it. I'm fucking done with Sadko. I'm serious: if this was how you really wrote, then okay get better. But if you made it silly on purpose, that was golden. I was laughing so hard at how stupid it was. But never do this in a serious match ever again.


On the plus side, props to Jesse for picking a setting that isn't cliche.

Jessepinwheel
03-30-2014, 12:30 PM
Hewitt, while I appreciate the feedback, I'll thank you not to dismiss something I put a lot of effort into as "inadequately stupid". That being said, if you think that my story is full of run-on sentences, I'm not convinced that you actually read my story. The least you can do is cite an example.

Anyways, it'd be more helpful if you explained why you disagreed with my stylistic choices as opposed to just saying that you did and what I should do instead. Or at least explaining why your suggestions are preferable.

I used points of view the way I did because the major point of the story is that Jasper knew something that Sadko did not, and that's why he won. Switching point of view lets me invoke dramatic irony and bring the story together more fully for the reader. If it was only Sadko's point of view, the reader wouldn't understand what was going on at all and the way that Jasper finally offs him would come out of nowhere. If it was only Jasper's point of view, it would be unbelievably boring because going into the battle, he already knows about his enemy and the setting in which he's going to fight. Omniscient third person would just be me artificially creating tension by withholding information.

You say that it's just about Sadko getting beat up by Jasper, but I would disagree. It's about the conditions that Jasper invoked that allowed him to get the upper hand for the entire fight as well as the events that conspired before the actual fight that allowed him to do so. I intended for the reader to piece together the larger story as more information comes out.

The "twist" with the girl is that she was in on the plot. The only context you need is that she did it because she had some history with Jasper. Which is to say, "so we're even now" is the context. What exactly that history is is irrelevant because it has nothing to do with the story of Jasper and the killer.

"The target had played him the whole time" isn't to inform the reader. It's Sadko realizing that there was this precursor to the fight that led to his demise. It should only be confirming what the reader has already deduced.

I'm not sure what to say about "pretentious lack of detail", because I'm not sure where you're expecting more detail than I already have. I don't think I could reveal the whole "it was a setup" thing any less subtly without insulting someone's intelligence.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that you took the time to write up your thoughts. I just think it would have been better if you elaborated on the whys rather than the whats because as it stands I'm not convinced.


Anyways, other people who are reading this story, it's really easy to give feedback. Just take five minutes to say what you thought and why. Two sentences would do, though more would be appreciated. Any feedback is useful, regardless of whether or not I agree with it.

Crank
03-30-2014, 07:02 PM
I am going to forget everything if I give both CnCs at once, so:

Maybe I've been putting you on a massive pedestal in my head, but this really didn't feel like your normal caliber of writing. I'm not saying that it was bad, but I know your better than this and was thrown off in that regard. To begin with, it felt like you began a bit too slowly for my taste. I get wanting to build up to the battle but it felt terse, like I was revving the engine of the story but it wouldn't go. As someone who's gone through three car batteries, that isn't a very fun feeling.

It was a bad day.

Relentless rain soaked the man’s coat all the way through. He sloshed through the street, eyes straight ahead, focused on a lone couple sharing an umbrella.

No sane person would go out on a day like this. Even though it was barely past noon, it was as dark as night. The combination of thick fog and rain destroyed visibility. The storm was deafening and covered all smells with the musk of rain. It was some small wonder that there was no lightning.

That being said, it's a good car. The periods just feel like too long a pause to me, at least with such close proximity.

It was a bad day.

Relentless rain fit for an apocalyptic flood soaked the man’s coat all the way through. Feeling the weight drag down on his shoulders, he sloshed through the forming lake in the street as he held eyes straight ahead, focused on a lone couple sharing an umbrella.

No sane person would go out on a day like this. Even though it was barely past noon, it was as dark as night; the combination of thick fog and rain destroyed visibility. The storm was deafening and covered all smells with the musk of rain, it was some small wonder that there was no lightning.

Another thing that seemed to be lacking was emotion. It made it a tricky to empathize and pick a side to root for, but I think details of expression would've given the fighters a bit more life.

Silently, he cursed. He didn’t know where in these shelves Jasper had disappeared to. He couldn’t fire randomly; he didn’t want to give his location away and the chance of hitting was slim to none. He drew his knife. It seemed like the right time to call in his insurance policy.

Silently, he cursed. He didn’t know where in these shelves Jasper had disappeared to. He couldn’t fire randomly; he didn’t want to give his location away and the chance of hitting was slim to none. A heavy frown tugged down his expression as he drew his knife. It seemed like the right time to call in his insurance policy.

In movies, the people you're supposed to like are shown closer more often whereas the ones you aren't are usually shown in the wider shots further back. Now, I forget the big scientific reason for it, but I know it's effective when done well. I think if you scattered in more close up details, it might bring your reader closer to the characters, literally and figuratively prospectively.

Unlike Hewitt, I didn't mind the switching perspective. I think it's an interesting tool and only feels out of place when there's a massive gap between what is revealed to be going on in the minds of the characters. Had the beginning been loaded with the hunter's mindset while Jasper was only a name, it would've been odd to jump to, but the portrayals weren't nearly skewed enough to interrupt me. They felt balanced, so I think it worked. It didn't bother me that only Jasper was named either, I'm experimenting with 3rd person personally, and it's a pain to me to make sure everyone drops their name. Being anonymous don't equate to being insignificant in my book. Additionally, I don't mind if everything is necessarily possible that all the characters do. I like my exploding cars in action movies, and I thought the teapot shatter was neat, quick thigh kick was cool and found both to be engaging. I always like your action sequences, even if all the future seeing made me have to analyze them a bit more! I do however agree that the ending could've been a little stronger, but seeing as this was mostly the hunter's viewpoint, was more thrown off by his lack of a response to that. Just something to show frustration or something. I know it's there, but if I were in his shoes, I'd be pissed enough to make it worth a sentence or two! Even if the feelings are, and especially internally.

On a side note, I think you win bonus points for coming full circle!

Just my two cents, it was a still a solid story and I hope you keep making them! You always freaked me out with how good you were, but I always liked that fear!


I'm moderately far behind on everything, so forgive me if I'm wrong but this is one of your first battles, right? Well you're diffidently on the right track! I respect that you had your gladiator look into Jasper on his own rather than just wait to be told 'this is who your target is' and taking it from there.

That said, I think they way you did it could use a little work.

I think it would help if you tried thinking of your character's situation, because currently it looks like a lot of things that would be badass of someone. Realistically, if you're involved in murder/killing/kidnapping, you'd probably want to keep your head down and lay low. Smashing your own and then stealing someone's phone would probably call a lot of attention to yourself, maybe a bit too much. Same concept with the gun, I don't see why he would've let it get empty like that.

Another thing you could benefit from is showing the emotion and mindset of the characters. I get that Sadko is mysterious and dark and by the looks of things unempathetic, but you could still portray that with contrast in an effort to have him build on your readers.

The remaining man, crippled by several blows and holding his hands from falling apart from horrible cuts began to slowly emerge out of the apartment of a god-not-so-lucky person.

The remaining man, crippled by several blows and holding his hands from falling apart from horrible cuts began to slowly emerge out of the apartment of a god-not-so-lucky person. His hazel eyes never looked back, only drifting to his gushing palms as his fluids stained his skin. Agony burned inside him like a fire, but he wasn't some pathetic cur who would let a little mind numbing pain get in the way of his work.

I think putting deep thought into the reasoning of character actions and the mindsets they have would be a great route to start taking.

It was a good story, and I look forward to seeing more from you!