Mel yawns. "Yeah, this is boring. I mean, really. 'Hero girl saves the kingdom from evil king'? Very…cliché. No offense." She drops her arms to the side, the broadsword scraping on the ground.
"Seriously though, when you're not writing, I'm literally stuck here, and everything is frozen! Like Mr. Bad Guy over here!" Her arm gestures to the villain of the story, and an upset look rested on Melanie's face
"There's nothing wrong with cliché stories…" Sam muttered. He slowly stood back up, walking towards the desk again.
"And I can't be expected to be working on the story all the time. I have school, and work, and obligations!" He sat down, rubbing his forehead lightly. He was going crazy; he was in a fight with his main character, and her words were appearing on his computer screen.
"Yeah, but if you're aspiring to be an author, you have this thing…" Mel put her hand under her chin. "What is it again? Ah! Yes! Commitment!" Melanie crossed her arms after sheathing her sword. "So I expect you to commit to this. At least, more often than you've been doing."
(Sorry if she's a bit stubborn and has a huge temper…)
(No way, I love her!)
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Whenever I do get time to write my brain is already dead and I'm half asleep. I'm not about to start writing some sh-tpost story just to keep you happy! I'm going to write when I'm able to, and I'm going to make a d-mn good story out of this."
(Also, I don't care if you curse-feel free to!)
"Whatever. Are you anywhere close to finishing this story, though?" Mel was trying to prove a point, but what, she didn't really know. There was too much to complain about.
(Oh thank you!)
"N-No…" Sam said, trailing off. He wasn't even halfway done. The villain Mel was facing wasn't even the main villain! He hated to admit it, but he only had a basic outline for what he wanted to write. He had no idea who all the characters were going to be, he had no idea even what gender Mel's love interest was going to be. Hell, he didn't even know if he was going to make Mel asexual or not. He sighed.
"So then just…word vomit! I don't care! Just do something!" Mel was trying to be pissed and encouraging at the same time. She wasn't sure if her advice would work, but she tried.
Sam's face crinkled into a look of disgust and confusion.
"Okay, first off, for the love of god never say that phrase again. And second off- I've tried that before with another story. Do you know what happened to that story?" He asked, in a slightly threatening tone.
"No, I have no idea what happened," she rolled her eyes, sarcasm like her second language. "Word vomit is used to jot ideas down! Write down options! 'If this happens, then…', you know? I'm not forcing you to do anything!" Mel was bored. "So what do I do now, Sam?"
"Right now you can shut the hell up!" Sam slammed a fist on his desk, getting pissed, "And stop trying to tell me how to write!" He groaned, taking a moment to collect himself. He knew what writing techniques worked for him. Word vomiting was not one of them. The last story he had tried that for, it became convoluted and lost any resemblance to a plot. And he had deleted it. He had been wondering whether he should do the same with this story, saving the scenes he likes and scrapping the rest, starting fresh, but he knew that was off the table now.
Mel bit her tongue, her eyebrows raised. She hadn't expected for him to snap at her. Takes one to know one, I guess… was a faint thought that echoed in her head. After all, she was technically Sam's creation.
(Hello, I have returned! Are you still interested in continuing?)
(YES PLEASE :D)
(Sorry for seeming overexcited…I still like the idea…)
(Yeay! I also still really like the idea too XD)
Sam rubbed his temple, trying to calm down a bit. He had heard what she had thought; it was hard for him not to. He had been working for ages to get access to her mind, see what she was thinking so he could actually write a story about her. He finally opened his eyes, turning back to the computer. The first thing he did was delete the conversation they had had; it had stopped appearing on the screen earlier, but even then there was enough there to change the entire plot of the story. Now, they were back where they had begun.
Melanie looked into the fire, grabbing the girl and hugging her, clutching her, desperately wanting her to live.
"You think this is funny? Torturing and killing, murdering an entire town? This is funny?" There was anger and hostility in her voice as she let the few tears she had fall, sizzling against the flames.
Sam sat at his computer, typing away. He followed Melanie, seeing into her mind. He saw how much she wanted this girl to live; a possible love interest?
"I'm…what? No! I'm not…interested…in her…. Amaya's just…a very close friend of mine. Yeah!" Mel seemed to respond to Sam, but was that blush from the heat of the scorching flame, or from something else?
Dragging Amaya past the flames, Melanie fel back, barely catching herself so she was in a sitting position.
"Shh, shh. May-may, you're gonna be okay, alright? I'm not gonna let you die, okay?" Melanie cooed towards her friend, petting her hair while she cautiously looked around for any hostilities.
Sam scoffed, speaking under his breath.
"Sure, Mel. Whatever you say."
The far off sound of footsteps could be heard; guards, no doubt. Amaya looked up at Melanie, tears in her eyes. She had burns covering her entire body, blisters forming over several. She raised a shaking hand to Melanie.
"P-Please… you have to go."
"May, you know I can't…I'll…I'll figure something out, alright? I don't want you to go through hell. You know what the king can do…" But it had seemed that Melanie had lost hope. She wasn't strong enough to carry Amaya, too weak from fighting.
"God damn it, May-may…" Melanie was distressed, and with what little strength she had, hugged Amaya tightly.
"I'll find you, May-may. I will. I promise, and you know I will never break a promise." Melanie stood and, before leaving, silently hoped that Amaya would be safe from the hell that Mel had went through when she was taken.
(Dang, I might actually use this for a character and/or story…)
( That'd be cool!)
Sam leaned back in his chair after writing this, thinking. He rubbed his eyes, tired.
"I think that's it for tonight…"
"So you'll leave me hanging? So I must wait at least twelve hours to continue on?" Melanie's heart was still hurting from her decision as she swallowed down the ache in her throat.
(Are we just going to time skip?)
(Ye, after this)
Sam pushed his chair back, standing up.
"Yeah, you will." At this point, he didn't really care if she was actually alive or not; it was his story, and he would still write it on his time.
"Hey! Asshole! I'm still here! I haven't gotten any rest! I'm still-goddammit…" Melanie was realizing he was serious when he stood up to leave.
About twelve years-or rather, hours-later, Melanie sighed. "Any 'grand ideas' in your dreams, oh author of this story?"
Sam grumbled a response, a seeming hybrid between 'fight me' and 'shut up.' He rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them, sitting down heavily in his chair. It was the weekend, so he might have some time to get some work done on the story.
"That's a wonderful idea! Because I haven't been waiting here forever!" Melanie stood over Amaya and fled, knowing that if she turned back, she wouldn't run. She just needed to run, wanting to run away from the situation, run away from her problems, runaway to a happy ending with Amaya.
But life wasn't like that.
It never was.