forum Instrumental Inspirations
Started by Kagura3417 Premium Supporter
tune

people_alt 4 followers

@amber_is_in_a_loop

The steel sky loomed high and threatening overhead. A rough wind blew from the coast, and you could just feel the tang of the sea in the air.
Alice stumbled along the river, hands in her pockets. It was raining hard, and you couldn’t see further than 5 metres. The sweet smell of damp earth wafted through the air, soothing all the sullen souls roaming these streets by night. All but hers.
She stepped into a deep puddle. Her boot soaked through. She kept walking. Where was she going? She had no idea– all she wanted was to get away. She let the hammering, repetitive sound of the raindrops numb her thoughts, and let the penetrating, wet cold numb her pain, and let the forces of nature take her away.
She was headed for the park without even knowing it. Of course, that would be her first instinct: so many firsts had occurred in the innocent surroundings of this child paradise. His first steps, his first laugh, his first soccer goal. She stood still, staring blankly at the deserted play area. Her tears rose to the surface, mingling with the rain. She wept, silent, still, suffering.
The sun was beginning to set. She hadn’t moved, and the tears still flowed freely. She kept trying to stop them and kept breaking further. Her tired legs trembled and caved, and she fell to her knees on the muddy ground. This time, a terrible keening accompanied the crying. She sobbed uncontrollably, chest heaving, images flashing before her eyes: his eyes fluttering shut, his toddler’s hand going limp in hers, the nurses rushing in and dragging her out, the consistent beeping of the machine… the line going flat. The cold rush of shock, the deafening realization, the screaming. She curled up on the cement.
It was irreparable, this grief. It was too big, too overwhelming, too constant for the mind to even comprehend. It was ever-growing, for nothing could replace a loss of this kind. Nothing ever would. This piece of her so suddenly torn away from her, this four-year-old wonder she had brought into the world, had vanished in a heartbeat. And there was no heartbeat anymore, only the rain, and the cold, and the wet, and the broken mother mourning her deceased son.
Passers-by didn’t stop to wonder why this woman was crying. What did it matter? They didn’t know her. She was probably crazy. And so they kept walking, and life went on, and his ended, and hers came to a stop.

@WriteOutofTime

"Tell me ag-again about the –the sea."

The kid's eyes glistened as he sat curled up next to me, his arms around my free hand. I was almost annoyed. I needed to finish this essay before tomorrow's paper was printed. It was imperative that I… but no. His eyes were far too bright, far too gray. I couldn't ignore him. I finished the word I was writing, then lowered my pen down, my lips puckering. "The sea, hijo?"

"Y-yeah," he said, "and then the bun –bun –bunnies. I love the sea. And the bunnies." He squeezed my arm tighter.

I sat back, staring up at the dirt ceiling of our apartment. Condensation slid down the exposed pipes and dripped onto our feet. It was from there I gained my inspiration. "The sea, Mitsy, is like that water right there. See it?"

"Yeah!" he said again, wiggling his toes against the damp floor. "Wet."

"That's right." I smiled a tight lipped smile at him. "Except there's much more of it. Gallons of it. Tons of it."

Mitsig shook his head, his curls flying into his face. "Like a bath?"

"Not…quite," I replied. "More like millions and millions of baths."

"That's imposs-possible. There aren't a million bath tubs."

Literal, again. The kid was always literal. He took everything so seriously. I gave up trying to explain the size, shifting gears towards the things he would like. I explained the feeling you felt when the salty drops reached your tongue, or the smell of the sea mist against your face, or the squelchy noise your shoes made when you walk across the sand. He drank it all in, begging for more until I exhausted my knowledge.

"And bunnies?" he demanded after I finished. He didn't care that I was working. He just wanted to hear me speak. I hoped he'd fall asleep soon.

"Yeah, well, bunnies and oceans aren't seen together too often." I yawned, leaning back and cuddling him closer to my chest. "Bunnies live in the woods. They hop around and eat carrots. And they, uh, I don't know. Sleep."

At the word "sleep", I realized his eyes were closed. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I could finally finish my work. But my hand didn't reach for the pen immediately. I studied the kid's face instead, my eyes trailing over his long lashes, his opened mouth, the drool dribbling out the side. I watched him sleep and suddenly felt like kicking myself. I acted like I knew everything for his sake, but really? I don't know what a damn bunny looks like. I've never felt the sea mist on my face. I've never seen the sun. Hell, I've hardly seen those UV lamps in the Lower World.

But the kid nuzzled his face into my shoulder and I decided I wasn't too awful. He was happy. If he dreamed of bunnies and oceans tonight, then maybe tomorrow's darkness and dragons would be easier to bare.

I didn't pick my pen back up that night.

Kagura3417 Premium Supporter

I wasn't really going to critique the drafts, but I will if you want me to.
The biggest criticism I had with your first draft is that you kept using "she" too much. It's fine use pronouns when addressing your characters, but don't overuse them or people won't know who you are talking about.

Otherwise, I really did like it. Good job.

@WriteOutofTime

It was raining.

Nyir's eyes locked with those of the Dragon. She could hardly think over the mind numbing rage she felt. Her hands shook around her newly formed iron blade. Tears and raindrops mingled on her cheeks, dripping down to her torn clothes. Her mask was gone, and every breath she took stung her lungs and spread fire to her veins. But she didn't care.

Nearby, Tyfer groaned.

Fury. Pure fury. At the sound of his weakness, she felt nothing but horrible anger. He was dying. He was dying, just like Yuu'mi had died, just like all the others had died –not of old age, surrounded by loved ones, or by some accident that was just the way of things– no, he was dying because this hellish monster waved a flippant talon.

"I hate you!" Nyir screamed, her voice a crackling mess as it rose above the roar of the fire and the rain. "I will kill you!"

The Dragon, with absolute apathy in its huge eyes, said nothing. It reeled back and prepare to attack her. The apathy was another blow. Her fingers twitched around her blade.

"I'll kill you," she screamed again. And then she attacked.