I unearthed this, and have been wavering about posting it, simply because I'd like to rewrite it one day. So I've decided to just leave out her name, and just type out the Sue-iest stuff. No danger there.
Anyway, I wrote this at age fourteen, under the influence of Airwolf, Riptide, Miami Vice, and Stingray. I've left the errors intact, to keep the amusement level high.
I would say "enjoy", but that's a little optimistic.
Hmm...I think I'll just start it right from the beginning, because the first couple paragraphs are possibly the most pretentious, horrid action-Sue drivel.
Eighties Action Show Sue
"Shh," she said. "Someone's coming."
The golden retriever was stretched to full form, head raised, ears folded half above the eyes. The rifle barrel glinted dangerously in the hands of the girl...dangerous not because she knew how to use it, but that she would use it. Her companion lay stretched out in a dark green sleeping bag, hand on gun; one could never be sure about suprises. They didn't necessarily conform to one's expectations, no matter how rational they were. But the girl was generally right about things, especially the other side, so he just lay where he was and waited for the stranger to break into the light.
Then the dog relaxed and sat on his hind legs, still staring out into that black waiting darkness. It was enough to make one wonder about the real truth of the situation; it also made one wonder why the girl--and he even supposed himself--would give up their lives for some stupid documents.
"Dresfield," the girl commented softly. "To your right I hear somebody in the bushes. Dog don't even hear him." [Somewhere in the distance, a banjo is heard...]
Into the clearing stepped a tall, lean figure dressed in dark green. A wide brim camo hat all but obliterated his eyes from view, and he wore a long polished rifle that stood out in bright contrast with his dark green clothes. [What the hell is it with dark green? And it must be scary to talk to someone with obliterated eyes.]
"So good to see you again. And this must be Dresfield. Pleased to meet you," he said in a laughingly sarcastic voice.
"You forgot Dog," she smiled, her sharp green eyes glinting in the downcast shadow.
His eyes turned up questioningly, but he never got a chance to speak because at that moment Dog landed on top of him. With a swift kick she silenced him. [Hey! Don't hurt Dog! Oh, wait, you mean Mr. Laughingly Sarcastic. Go right ahead. He won't even see it coming.] With a thwack of the bow he was quieted forever.
"That was unnecessary," remarked Dresfield after the realization had finnaly sunk in.
"No, it was not," she said tiredly as she dropped her bow and picked up the rifle. The dark metal looked cold and remote in her callused hands.
The night passed on slowly. The crickets, momentarily silenced by the death of a living being, resumed their quiet mind-numbing chirping.
[Dresfield falls asleep, boring, deleted]
He awoke to a fierce noon. [A bit tired, eh?] Dog was sleeping where he had been; Bow was laying where she had dropped it; the smoke from a dead fire curled upward in a thin stream of whitish gray. Birds flitted from tree to tree; a small brown squirrel scrabled up as the girl's other "pet", Wolf, snapped angrily after it with flashing teeth. [She seriously needs to invest in a book of pet names.]
The cabin door opened and out walked a man.
Dresfield recognized him. He was Arrin, a skillful diplomat who was well informed in the matters of politics and wine, but lacked intelligence, because he was supposed to be in Latin America. [Bwahahahaha!]
All of a sudden Dog perked up. Personally, Dresfield hated dogs and especially Dog in particular, but he could tell that the girl knew that. She had a sixth sense for dogs and a seventh sense for guns like none other that he had seen. [Do I even need to comment here?]
Slowly he got up. The bullet wound in his shoulder troubled him, but he had to find out what Arrin was doing at her cabin. [Ah, yes, the omnipresent shoulder wound, followed by the second favorite, thigh wound, in eighties action shows.] He was on a very strange mission; he had to find--and destroy--a jewel called the Mahwani-Tengani Zi'ltar, yet he had no idea what it was, or even why he was searching for it. [That will so be my journal subname at some point in the future.] He was upset that he had recieved the mission, and it was showing through in various ways. His obvious blunder at Kahlmu-ar Rej was one way, his bullet wound another.
The girl stood in the cabin, obviously unsure of what to do next. Wolf growled deep in his throat, but the girl did not try to silence him. "Azure of Gold Rainbows," she said tiredly. "You want the Mah-Jewel?" ["You want mah jewel? Ah don't think so, sugah!" It's Rogue!] Arrin Veklanarin nodded consent. "We are quite sure you have it." [I obviously haven't read my own Fanfiction Guide on clear dialogue...]
"We don't," she said pointedly.
"We will see."
Rifle sighed. "I don't have it. My partner is in the clearing by the lake. If he has it, then I am wrong; if he doesn't, then..." She let the sentence hang unfinished. [Uh...yeah. Because the ellipses were just for show.]
Arrin was obviously raged by this bored statement. With a single gesture he dismissed the soldiers that had come with him. [Is that wise? Oh, no, wait! He's "raged"! And he's working by the eighties action-show manifesto! If the bad guy is about to succeed, then he needs to do something wrong!]
"I want the Jewel," he said in an icy tone, his eyes hard and steely. [Isn't that one of the first stages of glaucoma?]
"Go ask Dresfield," she replied in a flat tone that belied nothing.
Arrin's eyes narrowed to slits. His blue eyes turned dangerous; his handgrip on his pistol turned knuckle-white. [He is Supah Raged! Look out, sugah!]
"Don't test my patience," he said slowly and with inflection. There was a sudden move--barely a flicker--and then he felt a pinprick in his neck. Then he remembered nothing.
There was a rustle of leaves and then the girl appeared. "Come on," she hissed. "They'll be on us in a few minutes." [Oh goody, I hope they're handsome.]
"Who?"
[The Rockettes!] "Arrin's flunkies," she replied.
She ran a few feet, Dresfield behind her. She stopped and started rummaging through the dirt. [I'm quite surprised that Dresfield didn't run right into her, honestly.]
"What are you doing?" he almost shouted, worried that at any moment his life would end, and he would not even die heriocally.
"Wait," she said gruffly. ["I'm gonna take a bite out of crime."]
Suddenly there was a slight whuf as a bush rustled. The girl jumped into the bush...and was not there. Dresfield took a tentative step forward...And there, in front of him, was a long, narrow flight of stairs carved out of stone.
"Come on," urged Rifle, who suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. Carefully Dresfield walked down the stairs. The girl hit a stone in the wall, and a stone slab ground into place, obliterating the sight of the blue sky. [Goodbye, Hamunaptra.]
Then the darkness crept aside to reveal a candle.
"Won't that consume all the oxygen in the tunnel?" he asked worriedly. He knew that the fear in his eyes was not very well concealed. [Ah! The second stage of glaucoma.] He was slightly claustrophobic, and when half your life is spent with cave-ins all over the ICR buildings, you began to have an imminent fear of them every time you're even close to a tunnel.
"ICR was built by fools," she said simply and then turned down the stairs. [Yeah, ya wimp!]
[blah blah blah-leted]
A [something illegible] entered the girl's cabin.
"Señor."
Arrin replied amniably, "Yes, Ramón?"
"Vimos nada; pero un SR5 helicóptero que estaba saliendo." [We say nothing; but a SR5 helicopter was sighted leaving]
Arrin frowned. There was nothing he liked worse than a mysterious exit. "Why was there no followup?"
"El helicóptero ha salida." [The helicopter left] [Somehow I don't think Ramón received very high scores on his SATs.]
---------------
Ugh. I can't continue; my brain is melting.
Anyway, I wrote this at age fourteen, under the influence of Airwolf, Riptide, Miami Vice, and Stingray. I've left the errors intact, to keep the amusement level high.
I would say "enjoy", but that's a little optimistic.
Hmm...I think I'll just start it right from the beginning, because the first couple paragraphs are possibly the most pretentious, horrid action-Sue drivel.
Eighties Action Show Sue
"Shh," she said. "Someone's coming."
The golden retriever was stretched to full form, head raised, ears folded half above the eyes. The rifle barrel glinted dangerously in the hands of the girl...dangerous not because she knew how to use it, but that she would use it. Her companion lay stretched out in a dark green sleeping bag, hand on gun; one could never be sure about suprises. They didn't necessarily conform to one's expectations, no matter how rational they were. But the girl was generally right about things, especially the other side, so he just lay where he was and waited for the stranger to break into the light.
Then the dog relaxed and sat on his hind legs, still staring out into that black waiting darkness. It was enough to make one wonder about the real truth of the situation; it also made one wonder why the girl--and he even supposed himself--would give up their lives for some stupid documents.
"Dresfield," the girl commented softly. "To your right I hear somebody in the bushes. Dog don't even hear him." [Somewhere in the distance, a banjo is heard...]
Into the clearing stepped a tall, lean figure dressed in dark green. A wide brim camo hat all but obliterated his eyes from view, and he wore a long polished rifle that stood out in bright contrast with his dark green clothes. [What the hell is it with dark green? And it must be scary to talk to someone with obliterated eyes.]
"So good to see you again. And this must be Dresfield. Pleased to meet you," he said in a laughingly sarcastic voice.
"You forgot Dog," she smiled, her sharp green eyes glinting in the downcast shadow.
His eyes turned up questioningly, but he never got a chance to speak because at that moment Dog landed on top of him. With a swift kick she silenced him. [Hey! Don't hurt Dog! Oh, wait, you mean Mr. Laughingly Sarcastic. Go right ahead. He won't even see it coming.] With a thwack of the bow he was quieted forever.
"That was unnecessary," remarked Dresfield after the realization had finnaly sunk in.
"No, it was not," she said tiredly as she dropped her bow and picked up the rifle. The dark metal looked cold and remote in her callused hands.
The night passed on slowly. The crickets, momentarily silenced by the death of a living being, resumed their quiet mind-numbing chirping.
[Dresfield falls asleep, boring, deleted]
He awoke to a fierce noon. [A bit tired, eh?] Dog was sleeping where he had been; Bow was laying where she had dropped it; the smoke from a dead fire curled upward in a thin stream of whitish gray. Birds flitted from tree to tree; a small brown squirrel scrabled up as the girl's other "pet", Wolf, snapped angrily after it with flashing teeth. [She seriously needs to invest in a book of pet names.]
The cabin door opened and out walked a man.
Dresfield recognized him. He was Arrin, a skillful diplomat who was well informed in the matters of politics and wine, but lacked intelligence, because he was supposed to be in Latin America. [Bwahahahaha!]
All of a sudden Dog perked up. Personally, Dresfield hated dogs and especially Dog in particular, but he could tell that the girl knew that. She had a sixth sense for dogs and a seventh sense for guns like none other that he had seen. [Do I even need to comment here?]
Slowly he got up. The bullet wound in his shoulder troubled him, but he had to find out what Arrin was doing at her cabin. [Ah, yes, the omnipresent shoulder wound, followed by the second favorite, thigh wound, in eighties action shows.] He was on a very strange mission; he had to find--and destroy--a jewel called the Mahwani-Tengani Zi'ltar, yet he had no idea what it was, or even why he was searching for it. [That will so be my journal subname at some point in the future.] He was upset that he had recieved the mission, and it was showing through in various ways. His obvious blunder at Kahlmu-ar Rej was one way, his bullet wound another.
The girl stood in the cabin, obviously unsure of what to do next. Wolf growled deep in his throat, but the girl did not try to silence him. "Azure of Gold Rainbows," she said tiredly. "You want the Mah-Jewel?" ["You want mah jewel? Ah don't think so, sugah!" It's Rogue!] Arrin Veklanarin nodded consent. "We are quite sure you have it." [I obviously haven't read my own Fanfiction Guide on clear dialogue...]
"We don't," she said pointedly.
"We will see."
Rifle sighed. "I don't have it. My partner is in the clearing by the lake. If he has it, then I am wrong; if he doesn't, then..." She let the sentence hang unfinished. [Uh...yeah. Because the ellipses were just for show.]
Arrin was obviously raged by this bored statement. With a single gesture he dismissed the soldiers that had come with him. [Is that wise? Oh, no, wait! He's "raged"! And he's working by the eighties action-show manifesto! If the bad guy is about to succeed, then he needs to do something wrong!]
"I want the Jewel," he said in an icy tone, his eyes hard and steely. [Isn't that one of the first stages of glaucoma?]
"Go ask Dresfield," she replied in a flat tone that belied nothing.
Arrin's eyes narrowed to slits. His blue eyes turned dangerous; his handgrip on his pistol turned knuckle-white. [He is Supah Raged! Look out, sugah!]
"Don't test my patience," he said slowly and with inflection. There was a sudden move--barely a flicker--and then he felt a pinprick in his neck. Then he remembered nothing.
There was a rustle of leaves and then the girl appeared. "Come on," she hissed. "They'll be on us in a few minutes." [Oh goody, I hope they're handsome.]
"Who?"
[The Rockettes!] "Arrin's flunkies," she replied.
She ran a few feet, Dresfield behind her. She stopped and started rummaging through the dirt. [I'm quite surprised that Dresfield didn't run right into her, honestly.]
"What are you doing?" he almost shouted, worried that at any moment his life would end, and he would not even die heriocally.
"Wait," she said gruffly. ["I'm gonna take a bite out of crime."]
Suddenly there was a slight whuf as a bush rustled. The girl jumped into the bush...and was not there. Dresfield took a tentative step forward...And there, in front of him, was a long, narrow flight of stairs carved out of stone.
"Come on," urged Rifle, who suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. Carefully Dresfield walked down the stairs. The girl hit a stone in the wall, and a stone slab ground into place, obliterating the sight of the blue sky. [Goodbye, Hamunaptra.]
Then the darkness crept aside to reveal a candle.
"Won't that consume all the oxygen in the tunnel?" he asked worriedly. He knew that the fear in his eyes was not very well concealed. [Ah! The second stage of glaucoma.] He was slightly claustrophobic, and when half your life is spent with cave-ins all over the ICR buildings, you began to have an imminent fear of them every time you're even close to a tunnel.
"ICR was built by fools," she said simply and then turned down the stairs. [Yeah, ya wimp!]
[blah blah blah-leted]
A [something illegible] entered the girl's cabin.
"Señor."
Arrin replied amniably, "Yes, Ramón?"
"Vimos nada; pero un SR5 helicóptero que estaba saliendo." [We say nothing; but a SR5 helicopter was sighted leaving]
Arrin frowned. There was nothing he liked worse than a mysterious exit. "Why was there no followup?"
"El helicóptero ha salida." [The helicopter left] [Somehow I don't think Ramón received very high scores on his SATs.]
---------------
Ugh. I can't continue; my brain is melting.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-20 03:31 am (UTC)That.is.so.awesome!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-20 10:38 am (UTC)