JRRT

Guess I'll jump in here:The End, by Tolkien.Much obliged.JRRT

“Remember, creature.”“Perhaps then you will learn to listen...”The Hau faded into the starlight as Takanuva moved away, its eyes glittering with a knowing look as it flickered and vanished.The wind began to moan again as Takanuva jogged off down the ruined track of the road. His focus was now turned to a new duty—a new goal. He was running out of time. He felt the urgency of his plight keenly now. He would have to finish this task quickly if he was to continue.Before him, along the horizon, the silver light rose up into the towers and spires of a vast city. A City of Silver. The stars paled in comparison as he ran briskly down the winding track. Here and there to the side of the road a stone pillar loomed among the trees, and sometimes he glimpsed the remains of ruins deeper in the forest, broken and buried beneath ancient dust and the winding of dead roots.The forest ended abruptly before the walls of the Silver City. Straight from the earth it rose, smooth and glass-like. Takanuva approached and ran a hand along the surface. It was almost frictionless. Impossible to climb, for sure. The metal or crystal of which the wall was made glowed with an inner light, filling the sky above him with its silver radiance.He turned back to the road. Now he saw that it wound its way parallel to the wall, vanishing in the dusk to his right. He followed it, moving more slowly now, staff in hand, ready for anything he might meet.After a while, he found that the roadway was paved. Closely-fitted stones made the path straight and even. The stones were well-carved, bathed in the same silver light as the city. No Po-Matoran could do better...For a moment, faced with memories rising in his mind, Takanuva felt the strangeness of his situation. Lost in a dead forest in some Mata Nui-forsaken land, searching along a glowing road beside a glowing city. He certainly never expected to be doing this.A sound broke his reverie—the noise of shouts. He realized that he had slowed to a walk, but now he quickened his pace. There was a commotion ahead. Some kind of uproar. He squinted through the dimness, around the curve of the wall. This must be the danger the Hau had spoken of.He would find out soon enough.Takanuva left the roadside and hugged the wall closely, sidling along it, covered in the radiance of it. As a Toa of Light, light itself could be his camouflage here.Suddenly a noise came from behind him—on the road to his left. Something was hurrying past along the paved way. It was a small figure—a Matoran?“No...” he thought, “Not a Matoran, but strangely close.”The small figure dashed away along the track. It was clad in some kind of armor—shades of dark red and purple. Takanuva couldn’t tell if it was wearing a mask or not. It certainly reminded him of a Matoran.He had to follow it. Stealthily, carefully, he moved along the length of the wall, craning his neck to see around the smooth bend of the silver barrier. The small creature vanished along the road, trotting steadily along.The sounds were growing louder now, and the Toa thought he heard the noise of metal clashing on metal. Voices were raised in anger. He sped up, almost running now, close against the wall. Almost there——And then he saw it. A creature! It was huge: a hulk of silver, metallic armor. It lumbered across the road in front of him, and Takanuva saw that it was surrounded by a host of the smaller creatures, crowding around it. They were shouting, gesturing. Some of them thrust small spears at the massive beast, crouching low to jab at its underside.The silver beast gave a deep groaning roar and lashed out with one of its great claws, scattering the smaller beings like dry leaves in a wind. Takanuva left the wall, strafing out across the road now, careful to keep out of the creature’s line of sight. He saw that he had reached the gate of the city: it was open. Two great doors swung inward, all metallic silver, except that both were scarred with black marks—claw marks?“This is it,” Takanuva thought. “This must be what I have to do...”The Hau had said that the city was threatened—threatened from outside the walls—and here was a beast attacking the city. It seemed almost too simple.Takanuva smiled grimly, readying himself. He turned back to the city, reaching out a hand toward the gleaming walls. He might be drained of his full power for now, but he didn’t have to be the light source in order to use it.As he watched, the great beast lashed out once more, driving the smaller beings back. One of them took the opportunity to hurl a spear, catching the creature between two armor plates. It roared suddenly and charged the contingent of smaller beings, who scattered as it barreled headlong down the road. Mouth gaping, eyes wide.Straight toward the Toa of Light.Takanuva made his move then. Focusing his remaining power, he drew a surge of light out of the city walls, a flashing conduit of radiance spreading into his form as he unleashed it full into the beast’s face.The massive creature swerved away from Takanuva, rearing up as the blinding flare seared its eyes and singed its armor. The Toa leapt to the right, crouching on the gravel beside the road, ready for any attack.But no attack came. The beast continued in its headlong rush, stumbling away from the road as it dashed madly into the trees.Its groaning roar faded into the distance as Takanuva listened, slightly out of breath. He smiled, proud of his success, and turned back toward the gate of the city.

I enjoyed it. I liked the way you didn't actually say he was old, but gradually let us realize that as you described his trouble doing his various tasks, and going into him being a hermit for so long.I like the idea of him realizing his death was coming and preparing for it in practical, prideful, and symbolic ways. To me unexplained, possibly supernatural things like a his knowledge of his upcoming death are really good ideas and add a lot of mojo to a story.Glad you entered this challenge, I hope you had fun with it. - 55555

A Story, by iBrow Hearts Rarity, reviewed.JRRT

Hello iBrow Hearts Rarity. You requested it, and now it’s time—time for an official SSCC review. Brace…yourself?-----------I’ll start with what I think works the best in this story: the pace of the narrative and the reactions of your main character. The sense of disorientation and horror is conveyed quite well through the disjointed nature of your character’s thoughts and his/her struggle to understand what is happening. All very effective—description, pacing, etc. Together, these aspects certainly make for an interesting read. I didn’t notice any major typos or grammatical errors either, so I’ll give you high marks for writing structure overall. Nicely done.The main area where I think this story could be improved is the conclusion. I can understand how the “point” of the story might be to leave the reader in a state of mind similar to that of the main character (namely disoriented), and I think you have accomplished that.The problem is that there is no “pay-off” for the reader—no real resolution. The tension in the story seems to be building toward something, and yet nothing actually resolves. Instead, we’re left just as mystified as we were at the beginning.Now, I’m not saying that, in order to improve this, you need to actually reveal anything more about your character or the circumstances that led up to the time of the story (since the absence of these things seems to be an element of what you were trying to convey here). But I do think that there needs to be some kind of closure. Even having the Matoran black out could be effective. There are an infinite number of ways to do it, and it’s up to you how you want to go about it. I simply know that, as a reader, the ending left me quite unsatisfied, especially since the story seems to be slowly leading toward some kind of clarity. The introduction of the Toa at the end made me think there would be a hint of resolution, but it ultimately falls flat.That is my main suggestion narrative-wise. Again, I think your writing style and sense of description are very good and effective at drawing the reader in. With some finessing, this could make a gripping short story.As for the title, might I humbly suggest…Confused? That does seem to be a consensus reaction…just kidding.(or am I?) JRRT

Departure, Loss, and Arrival, by Despair--all reviewed.JRRT

Hello, Despair (wow, that sounds…metaphorical). Here is one of three flash fiction reviews from the SSCC! Owing to its three-part nature (and the short length of the story at hand), this should be more of a “mini-review.” That is, unless I get carried away. We’ll see.---------Story: "Arrival"First impressions: Quite a grim take on the classic ‘Arrival of the Toa’ story. I think it fits the Alternate Universe theme quite well. Although you have limited space, I think you’ve used the words you have very effectively. The sudden twist at the end of the first paragraph and the lines that follow are wrenching and eerie, and they add a very dark tone to the story overall. Nicely done.Critique: In terms of writing structure, I don’t see much that I would change. There’s some good description, particularly at the beginning, describing the surroundings of the cylinder, and then throughout as you note the reaction of the wildlife to Tahu’s emergence.One point that might be improved is the progression of the action in the following section:

The being looked down at his sword, as if hearing the voice of his weapon and its cry for devastation. Slowly, the sword was pointed at the nearby forest. The trees themselves seemed to shy away from the spectacle, as if they knew what was about to happen and wished to somehow wished to escape their fate. Unfortunately, they had no chance for escape; a pillar of fire quickly shot out from the sword and began to consume everything that stood before the being of fire and destruction.

The trees themselves seemed to shy away from the spectacle, as if they knew what was about to happen and wished to somehow wished to escape their fate.

Hello, Despair (wow, that sounds…metaphorical). Here are two of three flash fiction reviews from the SSCC! Owing to its three-part nature (and the short length of the story at hand), this should be more of a “mini-review.” That is, unless I get carried away. We’ll see.---------Story 1: “Loss”First impressions: A touching scene, and an excellent snippet of interaction between characters. I think this fits the contest theme nicely as well, due to the fact that it is actually the introduction of two characters—one supposedly familiar (the main character) and one unfamiliar (the man with the hat/tattoo). The minimalistic description of the environment and characters is also, I think, appropriate and effective, serving to help focus in on the characters themselves.Critique: One criticism I do have involves the dialogue. It’s not quite consistent throughout, and I didn’t really get a sense of either character through the dialogue. That is, neither character was quite distinguishable through their dialogue, and because most of the content of the story is conveyed through dialogue, this diminishes the effect of the story overall. Sometimes it’s good to use some feature of speech or turn of phrase to set one character apart—perhaps make one character’s speech very clipped and minimal, while the other is more talkative.This difficulty in distinguishing between characters made it slightly confusing at the end of the story. In the end, I’m not quite sure who says the last line of dialogue. It seems like it would be the hat-wearing man, since he says “thank you,” etc., but he introduces himself as a doctor, and therefore I must assume it is the main character of the story instead? This passage at least could use some clarifying.Otherwise, a very evocative and emotional story! Nicely written.---------Story 2: “Departure”First impressions: This is an interesting and introspective little story, and deals with a problem that most people will face at some point. It certainly follows the theme of the contest, since the element of “preparation” plays a great role. No mistakes that I can see, and, in all, it’s a nice snapshot of an important scene in your character’s life.Critique: I have to say, though, that of the three flash fiction entries I’ve reviewed, this is probably my least favorite. This is mainly because it has no real action and no definite resolution. The former point involves mainly the means by which the story is structured—too much telling and not enough showing. The single point of action that occurs in the story is when your character leaves the room and encounters his (his?) family. As a reader, I’m told what happens, but I think it would be much more effective to be shown your character’s interactions—perhaps even with a line of dialogue or two. The issue of your story’s resolution is probably not as crucial in light of this, but it would certainly be nice to see some change in your character’s intentions at least.…or maybe the problem is just that every time I read the word “goodbye” I had the Beatles saying “I say hello” in my head...That could be it.All in all, it’s still a well-written piece though—don’t get me wrong. With some alteration, this could definitely make an effective piece of short fiction.---------And that concludes this (these) review(s). It’s been a pleasure. Keep on writing. It’s been great reading what you’ve done here, and I certainly look forward to more.JRRT

He opened the door wide on creaking hinges, letting the orange light of evening spill across the floor of the hut. The windows followed, shutters flapping open in the breeze that was just now rising over the empty prairies from the north. It blew gently through the hut as he busied himself with other matters, shuffling about on aching knees.First, he swept. A slow task with the thatch-broom that he always kept in the corner. Dust rose in little clouds as he worked, glinting in the sunlight before the wind snatched it up and away.When that was finished, he turned to the furniture. Not much: only a wooden table and chair. These he dusted, straightening the small collection of books on the tabletop, and put away the pewter dishes that lay scattered about. They would be useless to him on the journey. He smiled faintly, though, as he touched the books. They were dear to him. He would miss them.Next, he hobbled outside, leaning on a stick that he had used for many years. Rounding the hut, he made his way up the hillside behind. There, he looked upon the pens of sheep and goats that he had tended for so long. A hermit must keep himself busy, after all, and what else was there to do on the open prairie but tend the animals and read and think? What more indeed?He wheezed a bit as he stooped to lift the latch of the main pen. The gate swung open, and he tied it to a stake so it would not shut. Within, the livestock shuffled around but did not leave the safety of the pen. They held together, looking back at him with dark eyes. Sad eyes. He smiled at them, always grateful for their simple, silent company.The descent from the hill was harder in the twilight. The hut seemed grey now, thatched with colorless reeds, fluttering in the wind. He stopped when he reached the door again, looking out into the distance.South, he looked, and then west. The wind stung his eyes as he turned to the north, and he shielded them with one trembling arm. Soon, now. Soon he would go. The thought sent a shiver through his aged body, and suddenly he wept, for he was lonely. Here in the desolation of the prairie, with only the sheep and goats to keep company, he was lonely at last.He had chosen this solitary life for himself, but now…now he longed for something else. He longed for speech and company…warmth on a cold night.Soon he would go. Yes, very soon, and he was ready.His hand gripped the wooden stick tightly as he turned from the door, leaving it thrown open to the prairie and the fading sun. With faltering steps he moved towards the chair, wheezing as he lowered himself into it. He wore a weathered cloak, and on his feet were traveling boots.Now all was prepared. Yes, now was the time.The hermit lay back as the sunlight fell away, and night crept up from the west. His eyes closed……and abruptly he went out…out from the sheltered place into that greater night where there are no stars. A dry land, with dark hills rising to a darker sky…But above those hills, fitful and half-lost in the darkness, it seemed that a pale light flickered faintly.Now suddenly he started forward on strengthening limbs, casting aside the walking stick, for he may now climb those deathly hills without weariness…climbing…climbing ever up.Ever up, toward the light.

------------Hi folks. Officially, this is an entry for the Flash Fiction Marathon, following the theme "Preparation." Unofficially, this is the first COT short story I've posted on BZP. Funny how that works. It's a sad kind of story, but not, I think, too dark in the end. I hope you enjoy. Leave a comment or critique if the desire moves you. All such things are appreciated.JRRT

Great job on this contest, guys. It's great to see so much writing creativity going on 'round here.------------Member Name: TolkienTheme: PreparationWord Count: 600Story: "Ever Up"

He opened the door wide on creaking hinges, letting the orange light of evening spill across the floor of the hut. The windows followed, shutters flapping open in the breeze that was just now rising over the empty prairies from the north. It blew gently through the hut as he busied himself with other matters, shuffling about on aching knees.First, he swept. A slow task with the thatch-broom that he always kept in the corner. Dust rose in little clouds as he worked, glinting in the sunlight before the wind snatched it up and away.When that was finished, he turned to the furniture. Not much: only a wooden table and chair. These he dusted, straightening the small collection of books on the tabletop, and put away the pewter dishes that lay scattered about. They would be useless to him on the journey. He smiled faintly, though, as he touched the books. They were dear to him. He would miss them.Next, he hobbled outside, leaning on a stick that he had used for many years. Rounding the hut, he made his way up the hillside behind. There, he looked upon the pens of sheep and goats that he had tended for so long. A hermit must keep himself busy, after all, and what else was there to do on the open prairie but tend the animals and read and think? What more indeed?He wheezed a bit as he stooped to lift the latch of the main pen. The gate swung open, and he tied it to a stake so it would not shut. Within, the livestock shuffled around but did not leave the safety of the pen. They held together, looking back at him with dark eyes. Sad eyes. He smiled at them, always grateful for their simple, silent company.The descent from the hill was harder in the twilight. The hut seemed grey now, thatched with colorless reeds, fluttering in the wind. He stopped when he reached the door again, looking out into the distance.South, he looked, and then west. The wind stung his eyes as he turned to the north, and he shielded them with one trembling arm. Soon, now. Soon he would go. The thought sent a shiver through his aged body, and suddenly he wept, for he was lonely. Here in the desolation of the prairie, with only the sheep and goats to keep company, he was lonely at last.He had chosen this solitary life for himself, but now…now he longed for something else. He longed for speech and company…warmth on a cold night.Soon he would go. Yes, very soon, and he was ready.His hand gripped the wooden stick tightly as he turned from the door, leaving it thrown open to the prairie and the fading sun. With faltering steps he moved towards the chair, wheezing as he lowered himself into it. He wore a weathered cloak, and on his feet were traveling boots.Now all was prepared. Yes, now was the time.The hermit lay back as the sunlight fell away, and night crept up from the west. His eyes closed……and abruptly he went out…out from the sheltered place into that greater night where there are no stars. A dry land, with dark hills rising to a darker sky…But above those hills, fitful and half-lost in the darkness, it seemed that a pale light flickered faintly.Now suddenly he started forward on strengthening limbs, casting aside the walking stick, for he may now climb those deathly hills without weariness…climbing…climbing ever up.Ever up, toward the light.

The darkness within the tent was complete—a shade so thick that not even the strong light of dawn breaking above the trees could enter in. It seeped out through the seams and the thick tent-flaps, stilling the air about the encampment, draining the color from the earth and sky. It was a pure darkness. But it was not empty.Two eyes flickered in the lightless space. Crimson and piercing, they stared through slitted eyeholes, but they did not look outward, for there was nothing to see.No, they looked inward on this day—deep within, seeking, searching…eons of memory laid out before their gaze, for it was on this day that the world would be changed forever, even if that change began in a single mind…His mind.The War had gone well. The might of the Brotherhood was strong, and knowledge was their ally. It had always been their ally, and so the struggle against the League of Six Kingdoms was decided by superior tactics, greater strategy, more cunning battle-plans. These six pretenders could not hope to stand against the Brotherhood’s best. It had been folly to try, even if they were Mata Nui’s “chosen.” They had given up that title long ago, and now the Brotherhood must restore order and control, by whatever means necessary.And for many years he had been content in that task, content to wage war with the enemies of the Brotherhood and the Great Spirit. But of late, a feeling had been growing in his mind…a sense of foreboding, as if something was not right with the world, or not right with himself. In truth, he had felt it for a long time, but only now, now at the end of his labors in this war, did it become a sense of urgency, of insistence, a sense of, dare he say it, fear.It had begun as a whisper, a slim suspicion, creeping into the back of his mind, and for so many years he had ignored it, put it aside. The world had been bright and open—full of opportunities to discover what was not known. He had thought that, in time, all things would be made clear.But…the years had passed, and still the whisper remained, taunting him. It was a simple thing, too simple: merely the feeling that something had been…held back. Something remained hidden to the sight of the Makuta. Something important, and he yearned to know what it was. Through all the centuries and millennia he desired it, but could never discover it. So it was that he came to a final conclusion: that whatever this thing was, whatever it was that was hidden from him and his brothers, it could only be the work of the Great Spirit. Mata Nui withheld something from them, or simply did not see fit to grace them with his knowledge. Either way, it gnawed at his spirit, and he would give anything now to gain what he did not have.It was for this reason alone that he had forsaken the usual pursuits of the Makuta, seeking instead arcane knowledge, unknowable things. He had looked past the barriers of the world, past the knowledge of the elements or the lesser powers…he sought something that went beyond all of them. And now…now he had found it.A vision sprouted within the dark mind of the Makuta…a vision of blackness…reeling…empty. At first it seemed like the blackness that filled the tent—cold and silent—but no, it was unlike. That darkness was elemental: it had substance, energy. This was a different darkness, a darkness that roared and raged and devoured. A darkness that was without substance. An Absence.“Yes,” thought the Makuta. Yes, he knew of it. In his search he had heard whispers, rumors, stories of fear and terror from the beginning of the world, and it had a name:The Void.The Void surrounded all. It was that which separated one thing from another. It was a paradox, for it was nothing. But as the vision grew and filled the space of his mind, the Makuta knew that here was true power: a power and a knowledge far beyond the petty command of the Elements. Here he would find what he sought: the knowledge that the Great Spirit hid from him. And knowing that…he would—But the thought went unfinished, for the vision changed. He saw a great light shining, far away. The intensity of it was painful, and he tried to avert his gaze, but could not. It grew, and now he saw that it was a sphere: white and pure and featureless. And then it resolved into color. It was a world…the first world. The Great Sphere…Whispers of legend arose in his memory. Spherus Magna…Paradise…the home of the Great Beings…There it hung in the midst of the Void. One dazzling speck against the unending blackness. Defiant, untouchable.But then…then he saw how the blackness invaded the Great Sphere. A sliver of shadow seemed to pass into the glowing circle, and it was marred. Smoke filled the skies of Paradise, and the Makuta watched as the Great Sphere shattered before him. The Void did its work, and what was once whole was now broken, undone.Three worlds remained as the vision faded, spinning desperately away in the emptiness. The Makuta felt himself sink back into the darkness of the tent, but he was no longer alone. A presence was there. A presence he had not felt before…a feeling of otherness. It was…unsettling…and it seemed to coalesce in the silence of the tent, speaking with words that had no sound. He did not understand them yet…not yet. The Makuta stirred, raising himself from the metal seat. He shook his head……but even as he let the elemental darkness dissipate, even as he turned to go…another vision flashed through his thoughts...six from one…once whole but now broken…six lights flickering out in a sea of darkness.And then it was gone. The tent flap fluttered in the cool wind of morning. The sentries straightened to attention as their commander stalked into the trees. He was ready now…the idea was taking shape. But not now. First, he had business to attend to.The trees thinned as he entered the main encampment. Soldiers stood to attention in ranks upon the central staging ground, encircling a group of six iron stakes driven into the ground.The Makuta strode forward until he stood before those stakes, and smiled as he looked down upon the six figures tied to them. The ones who had been called Warlords…now defeated. Indeed, once they had been a great force in the world—a unified power. But now…now he had broken that unity, and their power was nothing.“I am the Makuta,” he said to them, using his proper title. “You have rebelled against the Great Spirit. You have abused the power given you, and now judgment will be passed upon you.”“You cannot so easily snuff us out, Makuta,” said the one called Pridak. His eyes were bright, defiant. “Who are you to pass judgment on us? You who have destroyed just as much in this war?”The Makuta laughed, a deep, unseen laugh, and the Mask of Shadows flickered with terrible energy as he replied.“Destroyed? Indeed, for destruction is the payment for peace, for control. The enemies of the Brotherhood, the enemies of the Great Spirit—all these shall fall into destruction. For I have been given that authority…I AM destruction…”The Mask of Shadows pulsed as the Makuta looked into the heart of the Barraki Pridak and saw…saw his true plans for the universe. The eyes of the Makuta narrowed. He smiled faintly.“…and I WILL destroy you.”

This was a wannabe contest entry for the Visions portion of the Flash Fiction Marathon. Didn’t quite make the word limit, so here it is in its own topic. You may have encountered the subject matter before (possibly in a previous story). Any comments, critiques, and/or evaluations are much appreciated.JRRT

Member Name: TolkienTheme: VisionsWord Count: 599Story: The Sight

They were coming. He knew it. Faint footsteps in the hall…a sound of whispered voices…metal rasping against stone. He was discovered again, after all this time. He had to get away. They were coming!Shui bolted up from the bed, suddenly awake. His eyes snapped open, but there was nothing to see—it was night, and darkness filled the room. The street outside was still as he squinted through the shutter. No shadows moved down below. No sound in the hall.But they would be here. They were probably already on the way. If there was anything he had learned in the past century, it was to trust his dreams. Especially the nightmares.Quick and efficient, with skill born of repetition, Shui gathered his belongings: two small satchels and an iron staff. Nothing more. These days he had to be light, fast, and always ready to run.He turned to the door, listening carefully before moving into the corridor. He’d be gone before anyone knew.Down the winding wooden stairs. He dropped two widgets behind the innkeeper’s desk as he moved towards the entrance, then into the street.His heart raced, despite the fact that he had done this a hundred times. A century of running, and he was good at it too, especially with his Gift. But the Brotherhood was relentless—they did not give up. They needed him—especially him…all for their War against the Six Kingdoms.Many had been taken—some willingly, others not. After all, it was easy to go along with what the Brotherhood offered…too easy for some.“No…” Shui had told himself long ago, “No…I will not use this gift in the cause of destruction. The Sight was meant for greater things.”Through the empty streets he crept, down towards the harbor. His ears strained, listening for sounds of pursuit.But at length, he stopped to rest. Perhaps he had evaded detection tonight. Tomorrow would be a new day——a shock cut his thoughts short, and he fell headlong into darkness...

His eyes snapped opened. Nothing to see. He tried to move, but his hands were chained. It was a stone cell…a prison. So, he was taken…But before the horror of his situation settled in, a noise broke the stillness:Faint footsteps in the hall outside the cell…a sound of whispered voices…metal rasping against stone…flint striking steel. A flickering light flashed under the cell door.Sudden fear seized him, and Shui realized now that he had foreseen this. His own downfall…The door swung open, light flooding the cell as rough hands hauled him forward. There was a fire burning in the grate in the center of the chamber. But this was no rough hearth—it was an ornate censer, gilded with many symbols. The fire burning there was bright and hot, twisting and hypnotic.“So,” a cold voice pierced his thoughts, “after all this time…Shui the Seer.”Shui shivered at the voice of Toa Koh, lieutenant of Makuta Gorast.“It’s been quite a chase, Seer, but now…you must face your Duty to the Brotherhood.”“I know my duty, Koh,” Shui replied, defiant, “and it is not to your Brotherhood. My visions will not lead you to victory in war.”Shui sighed, shutting his eyes tight, “I will not help you.”“I never expected you would. But either way, you will cooperate.”Hands seized his head, and his eyes were pried painfully open, filling his field of vision with the burning, hypnotizing fire. The sacred flame filled his mind’s eye as the Sight took hold…And then the vision ended.

(it appears that inspiration does strike the same place twice. yay.)

Blah. Wrote an entry and didn't check the word limit. I assume 1300 words is way out of bounds, right? JRRT

To Take the Stars from the Sky, by D.A.V.E., reviewed.JRRT

Hi D.A.V.E., it’s time for an SSCC3 official review. Remember, you asked for it.-------First impressions: definitely an enjoyable read. You’ve got action, betrayal, a bit of romance. All of these combine to make a story that flows quite well overall. Your sense of description is very well developed, and as a reader that means that it’s very easy to form a rich picture of the scenes. There’s also a great deal of emotional content that is expressed quite well through the medium of your characters, all culminating as a satisfying backstory for your main character.However, as always, there is room for improvement, and that’s the point of writing a review! But you knew that already.----------Probably the main thing that could stand improvement here isn’t actually related to the structure of the writing. The vital areas such as description, pacing, dialogue, etc. are all well-crafted. Instead, as a reader, it was the development of your main character Tirus and his relationship with the female Vortixx that left something to be desired.Tirus seems to start out alright, he’s good-natured, unafraid—certainly not someone I as a reader would expect to turn bad. But he changes abruptly at the transition from the first to the second scene, becoming a hard, cruel, ruthless character. Despite the fact that this is blamed on his witnessing many deaths, the fact that none of these life-changing events is described makes this sudden, drastic shift in Tirus’s personality a bit unconvincing. Because of this, Tirus’s second change in personality at the end is also rather unconvincing. This second point may partially be due to the fact that the relationship between Tirus and “his lover” never seems to be explicitly established.Now, these might seem like harsh words, but I believe you have the potential here for a really great story with a few adjustments and finessing.The solution to the problem of Tirus’s character development is pretty simple, actually, and it involves the balance between showing and telling within a narrative. As it is, you as the author tell the reader how Tirus has changed, but nothing is actually shown that makes those changes real or effective. I’m thinking of this section as an example:

Every able-bodied male and female was drafted, and Tirus quickly made his way through the ranks, growing hard as he witnessed more and more deaths, interrogations, and scenes of despair. He lost his innocence in that war, something he could never regain, not that he tried in those times. He, a youth, able-bodied, bright, and friendly, had his soul twisted, so that he became a shining knight with a less than-shiny essence. He killed, tortured and destroyed in the name of his superiors, and he did it without hesitation.

Say, how do you beat a troll?

You beat him with da bamboo stick.

It came on a dark night,

God's anger he bore;

Then his mind laughed!

life from body...

struck without warning,

Velox is Scriptophobia but he loves writing.Tolkien is Mythopoeiaphobia but he's into mythology.Any others? They seem to contradict the interests of the member.

I'd like to point out the Tolkien might be into mythology, but mythopoeia isn't about that. It's the act of creating the universe, structure, laws, and myths of a "secondary" world for a story (and a term coined by the real-life J.R.R. Tolkien).~ BioGio

Perfectionist, by Aderia: Toa of Ducklings, reviewed.JRRT

Hi Aderia. There’s an official SSCC3 review for you here. Just need a signature—------Great story, and a very interesting read, built around an interesting concept. The idea that the Brotherhood might just create a Toa to do their work has always seemed possible, but never actually happened in the canon. I think you’ve provided a fascinating look at how it might work.In terms of the writing, you have a good grasp of description, both of the environment and of a character’s feelings and sensations. The opening few scenes, with Evior completing his mission and the description of his first few moments of life were particularly well-done, I think. Also, your dialogue is quite good—very natural, not too stilted, and it was easy to transition from one character’s lines to another.All in all, an enjoyable read, and I look forward to more.In fact, in reading this, I must admit I have very little to criticize. Some elements of wording and description might be improved (like perhaps the dialogue of the Steltian barkeeper—a few too many apostrophes?), but overall, this is a very well-conceived, well-structured story. Of course, anything can stand improvement, and in the interest of provided some substantive critique, I’ll pick one thing that might seem rather minor at first glance:Action. There’s not a whole lot of it here, but it ends up being the hook that gets the reader into your story, since the opening scene is really an action scene, with a slow build-up of tension that’s finally released (like…a whip cracking…oh, yes, very good).With this in mind, one thing that I thought could improve the opening scene of the story was a better depiction of the setting within which the action takes place. I could picture to some extent the geography of the canyon, but the actual details are a bit sparse. For example, the fact that Evior is standing by a cliff-side didn’t register quite as strikingly as it should have, and I ended up not realizing that he had sent the Skakdi over the edge until the final sentence (although the detail of the Rahi birds flying away was quite good). So I think that might be cast a little more effectively simply by adding more concrete description to the scene.Otherwise, moving away from the actual writing-structure, something plot-related that I think could warrant improvement is the actual background of Evior himself. As the reader, I still ended up with quite a few questions as to what his purpose was. He seems to be sort of an assassin for the Brotherhood—who is he assassinating? Was there an actual purpose for him to kill the Skakdi in the opening scene? In view of the fact that this is supposed to introduce an epic, I can understand that certain things might remain unexplained, but I was still a bit mystified in the end.Others have noted the nitpicky things, so I won’t repeat them. Again: I think these issues are rather minor in light of the overall story. So don’t take them too seriously. Please.JRRT

I suppose I'll take the opportunity here:Remember, by Tolkien.JRRT

Thanks for the comments, you two. Much appreciated. :) Sorry for the lateness of my reply: Life, laziness, etc.

You sometimes emulate the actual (or perhaps original is a better word) Tolkien's Silmarillion in your sentence style. I like it, but at times you try so hard that it becomes a little disjointed and disrupts the flow of a really neat story. However, your prose is strong and your emotions well-established. 8/10-HH

This story is neat, with no obvious flaws that I could detect.Aside from the ending. It is a really ingenious plot twist, but it is also a bit confusing. Is this meant to be a dream Mata Nui is having when he is asleep during Bionicle? It it is good that this story is open to interpretation, but it is really hard to imagine Mata Nui being a Matoran in the MU and being the MU at the same time. Is that what you were going for? I can't tell.Good story through. Work of genius.

Reviewed Jowm's "Scars of War."JRRT

Hello Jowm. This is your official SSCC3 review. A long time coming, I’m afraid. But here we are.First off, I just want to say this is one of the more interesting Spherus Magna-oriented stories I’ve read. The prehistory of the Glatorian and the Core War has always been ripe for expansion, and I think you’ve done a good job with that. I also like the interaction between the much younger and more inexperienced Ackar and the character of Perditus. You were successful in creating two well-rounded characters. So kudos to you on the story/plot side of things. Well done, and I look forward to reading more.----------On the critique side of things, I’ll start off by saying that this story would definitely benefit from some major re-formatting of the text. Dialogue in particular should be split off from the description, and each separate line of dialogue should get its own line. Generally, huge blocks of text are very difficult to get through visually, and unfortunately they tend to make people skip over them. Plus, if you’re writing an action scene, short, punctuated formatting can actually help convey movement and suspense.For example, in the opening scene, you start with two paragraphs. The first isn’t bad, but the second should definitely be split up, starting (again) with the dialogue. There’s a lot that happens in the second paragraph, and it’s best to try to think through when a particular line of thought ends and another begins. This is a good rule of thumb for the entire story, actually, as the trend of huge chunks of text continues throughout.Another point I’ll mention—somewhat connected to the first—is your description of action. At times it’s a bit clunky. Here’s a specific example:

Ackar drew and swung his sword, with almost impossible speed, toward the troop who had been interrupted, to his right and behind him, knowing that from the angle he was at, he would strike whatever had impacted his fellow Glatorian.

When he struck the thing, on what appeared to be its back, it went sprawling into the sand, while his troop, recovering, struggled to return to his feet. Ackar quickly placed his Thornax launcher in the hand he was holding his sword with, holding both in his right hand as he reached down with his left hand, and grabbed his fellow Glatorian by the right arm, pulling him to his feet.

"Come on," he ordered, his commanding voice entwined with a sigh.

"Halt!" he commanded, his voice slightly betraying his suspicion.

“Let go,” Perditus ordered, “I may not have been trained as a medic, but I know a bit about Glatorian anatomy.”

“I moved some of the internal parts of your neck so that you won’t die, but the damage is bad enough that in about one day, the parts I moved will have been pushed back and you will be dying again, at which time you will have a little less than an hour to live.” Perditus explained,

“No,” Perditus ordered, “Don’t push yourself too hard, we won’t let you,” Perditus finished, glancing at both of the other Glatorian, who nodded in approval.

“No,” interjected Perditus, cutting off Ackar.

“What about him?” questioned one of the Glatorian, gesturing toward Ackar.

“We’ll take turns carrying him,” answered Perditus, “two of us will carry him at a time.”

“Are you the commander of these Glatorian?” he questioned Perditus.

It was a hau.It was a Hau.A Kanohi Hau was hanging in the night air before him, huge and spectral. A Hau made of light.The stars seemed to glimmer through its face, through its two huge eyes. They were deep eyes, ancient and tranquil. The pattern of the stars found an order in those eyes.“Wh-who are you?” Takanuva asked, finally finding his voice. His eyes were wide, almost disbelieving the image that hung before him. The shock of seeing such a familiar likeness in such a foreign place seemed to clash with the relief he felt at finding something living in this dead forest.“I am...of the Great Beings,” the Hau said, staring down at him impassively. Its eyes seemed to pierce him through, gazing into his heart and mind.“Can you...can you tell me where I am?” Takanuva replied. He felt his heartbeat quicken at the mention of the Great Beings. Perhaps he wasn’t as far from home as he had thought.“You are lost.” it replied, and Takanuva thought he caught a glimmer of humor in the mask’s face.“Yes, I know,” he said, frowning a little, “I mean, can you help me find my way?”“I can.” Now the image of the mask turned its eyes downward. Takanuva’s gaze followed, and, there in front of him, he saw the shape of the gnomon, still quivering slightly, pointing straight toward the floating Hau. He picked it up gingerly, finding that it no longer burned him.“Why did this lead me to you?” Takanuva asked, turning the small rod in his fingers.“It is also of the Great Beings.”“Oh? But it’s just a gnomon.”“Appearance should not be judged so hastily,” the mask said with a tinge of reproach. “You will only deceive yourself that way.”Takanuva sighed. The mask was a riddle-maker.“Look,” he said, his mind returning to the urgency of his mission, “can you help me get where I’m going? I have an urgent task—”“—I can, as I said,” the mask interrupted, turning its eyes back to him. “But there is another task you must finish first. Another duty.”“I’m afraid I don’t have time.” Takanuva was starting to feel frustrated now. Was the mask going to help him or not?“There is always time,” the Hau said, its eyes laughing again. “Go to the City of Silver. A wrong must be righted there.”This was not what Takanuva had hoped for: another task set before him. He had wasted enough time wandering through this forest already—he had to find the way back.”And anyways,” he thought, frowning, ”why should I trust this floating mask?”“You must trust me,” the mask said, interrupting his thoughts. Takanuva was startled, wondering if the mask could tell what he was thinking.“I can’t—“”You must. Only then can you continue on your journey.”Takanuva felt anger rise in his chest for a moment. This mask would not force him to do anything. But then he looked into its eyes again. There was no deception there—only peace, confidence. This being could be his key to finding his way. He would have to trust it.“Fine,” he said sharply, standing to his full height. “What do I have to do?”“You must go to the City of Silver. It is not far.”“Alright then,” he said, “just show me where to go.”Takanuva peered around impatiently, looking for a sign of a path or road.“The City is in danger,” the mask continued. “Even now it is threatened from outside the walls. You must protect it and that which dwells within it—”“Alright—I said I’d go.” The Toa of Light stepped toward the mask, impatient, his eyes still searching.There! On the edge of the clearing. There was an opening in the trees, and what looked like the remnants of a road. Something was shimmering along the horizon there.“Is that the City?” Takanuva pointed, moving toward the opening.“Yes,” the mask said, its eyes narrowing. A sad look crept into its face as it moved behind the Toa. “That is the City of Silver.”“Yes, I can see it. It isn’t far. I’ll right whatever wrongs need righting.””Very well,” The mask said, its voice seeming to fade slightly as he moved toward the edge of the clearing.“But remember what I have said, creature—”“—I will, don’t worry,” Takanuva said hurriedly, feeling the sense of urgency rise in his chest. He squared his shoulders and turned from the floating Hau, stepping quickly down the remnant of the path.For a moment as he moved away, he thought he heard the voice of the Hau again, words echoing faintly behind him, whispering in the low breeze.He could not understand them.