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Post by Kathleen on Oct 14, 2010 0:21:56 GMT -5
He sounds fascinating. Dark characters are oftentimes the most fun. Does he actually have different personalities?
Although for some reason, I keep wanting to read his name as 'Augustus'. D=
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 14, 2010 0:25:30 GMT -5
Sort of different, but not really. Just different facets of the same person, really.
xD Yeah, I've done that too. Augustus is more common than Augustine. Also sounds more masculine, and I really don't know why Augustine works better for August but it does. =D
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 16, 2010 14:45:00 GMT -5
I think that reading The Dispossessed has effected my vague idea of how to write this story more than it reasonably should. See, that story's told in two parts, sort of. Two timelines of one character. One ends where-when the other begins. Alternating chapters tell the two stories that are one. It's brilliant and beautiful.
And I could totally pull that off for Saviour. I know enough about Sumati and Colleen to do it. And, for all that Matthias Lionel is going to be a viewpoint, Sumati and Colleen are the people Saviour's about. I could pull it off, and I think I might need to. But that leaves the question of how to format this, which was already a challenge.
It'd need to be sort of alternating, at least. I have more known-present things about Colleen. I have more known-past things about Colleen, too. I think this comes of not wanting to look at Sumati too closely. Anyway.
I know the first scene. It's Sumati's. The following chapter would need to be Colleen's, and I think I know what that is. From there, I can extrapolate the rest of the pattern, which is... sort of odd and very like my mind. I'd need to draw it to show it, though.
Of course, to pull this off I need to worldbuild the area Sumati lives in.
...and I just realised that I could write the connection between Sumati and Colleen in a number of different ways, all depending upon how I build Sumati's life and area.
See, Grebes exists on a world roughly equivalent to Earth of fifty-some years ago, I think. When we had a lot of technology, a lot of knowledge, but not much computer/space/internet type stuff. Phones exist. Cellphones don't. Computers exist. They're huge and expensive and only governments or colleges really have them. It's possible to get to space; it's just not worth the cost.
So that world -- which is going to be arbitrarily named Mekra (from mekkar (home) in an ancient tongue) -- does have world trade and all, but regions can be quite independent and out of governmental control if they don't do anything obviously wrong and are out of the way. Grebes is an example of that. It's out by a western bay of whatever the continent (Mahalla?) is. Sort of in the area of Seattle, I think, using the USA as an example.
The Institute (full name: Institute of the Extra-Natural/Mekran, or IENM) is sort of like Torchwood, except better. It's one of the only world-wide organizations, something only possible because of its telepaths. Telepaths and empaths of usable strength are rare. Most people have at least a touch of each; 'paths just have it stronger. 'paths also tend to be brilliant. Anyone working in the Institute who isn't a 'path is someone who is brilliant or extra-natural in some other way; their intellects are 4+ standard deviants from the mean, typically.
They keep an eye on the world and have more technology than any government. Most governments know about them, but they're shadows upon the world, and they know enough about governmental secrets that they can blackmail governments to keep them out of the news and all. They have bases in various places around the world (like the Torchwood stations), typically in out-of-the-way places. So, let's place one near Mistral/Grebes, just because it probably makes the story work better.
...and yeah. xD I could continue on this, but no time right now. And yes, that's spawning world from the top of my head as best I can to make it make sense. And sure, I could just call this an alt-Earth, since it pretty much is, but it also really really isn't, so the planet gets a name of its own.
..yes. xD I'll stop rambling for now, yes. Shall come back to this later.
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 19, 2010 23:47:03 GMT -5
There is a better title for this. I know there is. Mostly because my brain has rearranged at least half the elements of this story so that it can actually be told decently well.
One of those things is that Gus needs to be someone in the Institute, and he has black hair.. And Augie needs to have red-orange hair, because there is no way out of that, and should be Matthias Lionel's friend. Austin has sandy-brown hair, and is fairly tall. And Augustine Doyle is the doctor/governmental person. And they all need to be decently distinct. Related, perhaps -- Gus and Augustine being related makes sense, somehow, but Gus's name is a shortening of Gustav. Augie is just.. Augie. xD And Austin is Austin.
For this to work also... let's see. Things need to cross. I can see the weave, in basic -- it's red and gold and their faded kin. A light and its shadow, a sound and its echo -- this is what I'm writing.
So, to have it work... I can use more POV than just Colleen and Sumati, it's just more difficult. But that's okay. Difficult is fun. If I weren't making this a challenge, this wouldn't be any fun. If I wanted easy, I'd just write Eschaton Apocalypse and have a decently straightforward story. xD But no, I have this instead; a story that will keep morphing until I just sit down and write it. =D
So I'm not taking anything I've written so far as set except for who Matthias Lionel, Colleen, Sumati, and Tanith are. xD Because I need those four characters as they are to have this story work, in whatever form it ends up taking.
Anyway, my mind's more in the real world or in Inquisition, and this story'll probably work better with only half a plan anyway. ^_^
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 23, 2010 12:36:05 GMT -5
Figuring out scenes that I know I'd never get to write in-story is fun. =D Like Lionel's past, because, while he might be a POV character, he doesn't get any flashback-y stuff unless something changes in the structure of this, which I doubt will happen. So, anyway. Some Lionel-POV stuff, from before Saviour's beginning. (...and I really do need to find a better name for this story. xD That one doesn't feel right anymore.) Lionel leaned back, tilting his chair at an angle most would deem dangerous. He considered it to be so as well; he just didn’t care. A bit of danger was more interesting than being as neat and proper as most of the Mistral students. Besides, there were only a very few people who would think it funny to knock him down, and unless someone did that he could stay balanced for quite some time.
Unfortunately, one of those people was coming by. Lionel pulled himself forward with his feet, thumping all four legs of the chair back onto the ground just as Augie walked by. The wiry red-head stopped just past him, turned, and stuck out his tongue. Lionel just watched, elbows braced on desk, chin on clasped hands. “You know,” he said, “you would get a scolding if one of the professors saw you.”
Augie grinned and retracted his tongue. “You would’ve too, Matt.” He wandered around the desk, glancing at the papers scattered across it. “What you working on?”
“Professor Stork has me doing statistics for her.” Lionel grimaced. “Punishment for skipping her class one too many times.”
“Any worse than being in her class?” Augie picked up a graph and studied it. “Wait, she has you studying the Norm?”
Lionel nodded. “She’s decided that if I don’t want to learn about the Norm in class, I can do some of her work and learn at the same time.”
Augie laughed, a full-throated laugh that made heads turn towards them all around the cavernous study hall. Augie didn’t seem to notice. Lionel flushed, pale color rising in his cheeks. His friend leaned across the desk, leaning on the papers without worrying if he crinkled some. “You know what I think?” he said intensely, dark eyes looking straight into Lionel’s. “I think you scare her.”
He shrugged. “She respects me, at least.” He flicked a hand. “Most students wouldn’t know the math for this.”
“Or have the patience to actually do all the work.” Augie paused, considering something. “Say. Are you getting out of class for doing this?”
Lionel sighed. “Were I so lucky. I’m forced to come and give her all the completed equations, and then, of course, I must stay so that I don’t disturb the class by leaving.”
Augie grinned and reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “Hey, it’s not that bad, is it?”
“Half of each class is taken up by watching videos from Grebes about the Norm,” Lionel said softly. “Videos showing why the Norm is necessary to a functioning society. They look like machines, most of them. The ones that break the Norm – they’re the only ones who look fully human. Have you ever really studied Grebes and the Norm?”
Slowly, Augie shook his head. “They don’t consider it necessary for those of us who grew up in the area.”
“You grew up here?”
“In the Works.” Augie shrugged. “Things are better there.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Eventually she’ll need to show videos of the Works. Most of us came from the city.” Augie shrugged, looking, for once, uncomfortable. “Look, I’ve got class. If you want help with all this, come by later and I’ll give you a hand, okay?”
“Alright.”
Augie gave him a brief smile as he hopped off the desk and strode quickly through the hall. Lionel watched as he ducked through the door to the library. Augie didn’t have class at this time. He might have classwork, but unless something had changed in his friend’s schedule, no class. Lionel sighed, and decided to try never to ask about Augie’s past or the Works. It wouldn’t, if this was any evidence, end well.
He turned back to the graphs and equations. The data here, about how many citizens were Normed each year, and how many sent to the Works, was truly appalling. He doubted Professor Stork had known just how much data was in here, because if she had, and had given it to him anyway, he wanted to know why.
But he could think about that later, after he had finished his work. With a sigh, he picked up his pencil and began to write once more. I like Augie. He reminds me of Rikku-characters. xD And that Lionel thinks of himself as Lionel and most people call him Matthias or Matt, even his friends, amuses me greatly. Though, Augie might do that just to annoy Lionel some. |
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Post by Rikku on Oct 24, 2010 15:53:35 GMT -5
... I like them! ^_^ And of course I like Shadewriting more or less automatically. If the tone of Saviour-doesn't-fit is similar to in that or not terribly darker I might actually be able to sink into the story without breaking my brain, which would be pleasant. And even if I can't I'm sure I'll be able to keep up with excerpts and so on while NaNo's going on, and that's a happy. So yay!
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 25, 2010 1:10:20 GMT -5
Rikku -- Darkness depends on the characters and scene. xD If the opening doesn't break your brain, the rest shouldn't, 'cause I think it'll start out darker and then get nicer?
Anyway, it's weird creating a dystopia that's sorta based on a view of American schooling. So. Grebes. Most backwards city in the northwaters, far as most of the region is concerned. Oh, it’s been the source of a lot of brilliant things, too, but it’s remembered for its oddities.
One of those oddities is its history.
Grebes was founded by Daniel Grebeson, a strong telempath of the Institute. That he was telempathic is not something widely known; outside of the Institute, he told almost nobody, and very few had both the knowledge and belief necessary to discover the fact on their own. Grebeson ran from the Institute, turning rogue, in 1793. He created Grebes by going around the country, speaking about the horrors of people knowing too much: Hubris, Arrogance, Tyranny. These were his words, and he used them well, projecting, subtly twisting, the people with the same powers he denounced.
As Grebeson’s followers grew in number, he began looking for a place to settle, a place to create a city of believers. The Institute watched him, but their non-interference policy kept them from actively doing anything against him. So he set up Grebes, a city based upon the belief that no person is better than any other. Side beliefs were that to do anything to place yourself either above or below any other was wrong, and that each person was a part of the machine of a city’s life; no breaking the machine by leaving your place.
Grebes became, thus, a rather rigid, oddly hierarchal (for a supposedly egalitarian) society. Grebeson, as long as he lived, kept it in order. Once he died, and the government he had set in place took over running Grebes, things started changing.
It was slow, at first, the changes. People who disobeyed the Norm were punished more severely than Grebeson had done, for instance, and schooling became more rigid. And then, as drugs that changed behavior became more common, they became the ‘punishment’ of choice, and the drugs gained the name of the system: the Norm.
The institution of the Norm created the Works. Or the Works created the Norm. It’s hard to tell which came first, because they happened at so near the same time. All the brilliant people retreated to the center of the city, where industries were, and refused to let the government in. They set up their own harsh government, a system that followed two essential rules: don’t ask unnecessary questions, and don’t get in anyone’s way.
The Works, naturally, became a hive of villainy, in the eyes of the City. So the Works became the dumping ground for everyone who couldn’t stand the Norm, but was too useful or smart to be used as a test subject for different varieties of the Norm.
This all happened around 1900. Mistral College was founded slightly after the City and the Works came into existence. The Institute Node followed shortly thereafter, though they had always kept an eye on Grebes in some fashion or other.
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Post by Rikku on Oct 25, 2010 1:47:54 GMT -5
... 'tis intriguing! ^_^ And I am glad I know more of this now, 'cos it's all interesting-like.
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Post by Amneiger on Oct 25, 2010 2:38:03 GMT -5
...Have you read Snow Crash? xD
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 25, 2010 19:15:25 GMT -5
Amnei -- Nope. I think it might be vaguely on the list of things I may read someday, but it's not something I really see reason to read.
I have more random notes here than on my saved word doc. To add to that, some notes scribbled down before class:
Sumati's plotline needs a s/r telepath, and she needs to be decently conscious for a decent amount of time each day/week. And there's this vague idea that there's some sort of change of power going on in the Institute, or at least in the Grebian Node, where the gifted are being overthrown by the telempathic. There's overlap between those groups, sure, but typically you either have enough telempathic ability to be in that group or you don't. If you don't, you're just gifted. And the reason for this changeover -- rebellion, really -- is Tanith and Sumati.
Colleen's plotline... Austin is more important than I give him credit for. xD And I need to have at least one more character -- a female -- in her flashbacks/history stuff.
And Mistral/Gov. Dr. Doyle, or whatever his name is, needs to be Dr. Brett Doyle. Dunno why; it just should be. And Augustine Bryce is a student at Mistral. Again, dunno 'xactly why, but it needs to be so. *shrug*
Watch me build the world around and before, but without giving much thought to what actually happens. xD I think this is 'cause I need the base, but the story comes out of what Is and Who is.
Soyes. =D I think that's my storyrambling for the day. xD Maybepossibly. I should write stuff about Sumati and Colleen, but their stories, all that I want to write, are things that should be in the NaNo, not random stand-alone things like Lionel. Eh. Could write more stuff about Lionel, or write Augustine, or Austin, or Augie, or something like that. *shrug* Should write at least one more snippetthing afore November comes, though.
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 25, 2010 22:56:41 GMT -5
Gus! And random throw-away character who might come back, but was mostly just someone for Gus to interact with. xD I like Gus. He's a good man. “Everyone talks about TKs. So where are they?”
Gus sighed in disgust and turned to face the arrogant newcomer. “Kid, if you think TK’s real, then you’re not gonna fit in here.”
Right eyebrow arched into almost a perfect checkmark over an almond eye. Gus tried not to roll his eyes. This kid was trying too hard. “Whyever shouldn’t it be real, if TP and emp are?”
Gus scratched his beard, hoping no Work bugs had gotten in there since his last shower. He needed another of those soon, but that was for after this shift ended. “Because telempathy is based on basic human abilities. TK isn’t.”
“But—”
“Shut up.” Gus stretched, pleased to see that the kid knew how to be quiet when asked. He studied the kid for a long moment. Bright eyes, as they all had. Scraggly blond hair that looked like a mess. That might be from the Works, might be genetics. Ragged clothes definitely from the Works, all in grays. Lanky frame. He hadn’t grown up completely yet. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Harvey,” he said. “And—”
“Harvey,” Gus repeated, overriding the kid’s words. “Rule one. Don’t ask questions until you can take the answer.” He smiled. “That tends to mean knowing, or at least having a good guess about, the answer.”
“Then—”
“You’re here because you’re gifted.” He raised his eyebrows, not nearly as elegantly as the kid, but a whole lot more effectively. “I’d say for intellect, but you haven’t yet shown any of that.”
Crimson covered Harvey’s golden-tan cheeks. “My apologies, sir.”
“Better. Now, why are you here?”
“Because one of your people found me and brought me here.” Harvey scowled. “No clue why.”
“Think about it for a bit.” Gus turned back to his paperwork, half-expecting the kid to continue talking even after his advice. He kept a low-level ‘path on the kid, mostly to see what sort of thought patterns he had. Besides, having something else to think about made the routine paperwork more interesting. It was just a grid of who was doing what, why, how long they thought it would take, and how much money it cost. Nothing difficult. Everything had already been approved; he was just making sure they weren’t overspending or overextending themselves.
“Why are you here?” Harvey asked quietly.
Gus stopped, his work-callused fingers spreading on the paper. He didn’t turn to look at the kid. His telepathy allowed him a fairly good sense of what the kid must be doing, even though he had horrible empathy, relative to most here. He waited until the kid was suitably nervous, then said, “Because I knew more than I should have.”
The kid’s confusion passed into his thoughts quite nicely.
He laughed. “Kid, you’re a Worker, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t you learn to mind your own business years ago?”
“Isn’t doing the opposite just what you guys are for?”
“Yes,” Gus said softly. He looked down at his fingers, tracing a scar he had gotten years ago, before the Works, before the Institute, before he knew what he was. “We’re the ones who try to keep a world of insanity from destroying itself, and we do it by destroying the most sacred place any person has. Their mind.” His brother had never understood why he had stayed in the City while Gus had gone to the Works. Gus had never understood why he had received telepathy while his brother was less telempathic than most. He wasn’t sure if it was a fair trade. They still talked, on occasion, when Institute business brought him to the City in a governmental capacity.
Harvey said, slowly, as if he were trying things out as he talked, “So, I’m here because I have the ability to figure out peoples’ minds.”
“In some way or other, yes.”
Harvey’s stillness of body took itself to his mind, and Gus resisted the urge to break his barriers. He didn’t want the kid to know that he was a telepath until he had to. Then, his blocks would be even stronger than they naturally were. He suspected the kid was telempathic, but he didn’t have the skill to tell which.
“That explains a lot,” the kid said at last.
“How so?”
“Ever been asked how you know something, and not been able to explain?”
No, Gus said silently. I’ve always been able to say, I know it because you know it. But he didn’t say anything aloud, nor in his mind.
“I have. All the time.” Harvey started pacing, the sound steady and soft, worn shoes on worn floor. “Telempathy explains a lot of it.”
“Which side?” Gus asked, turning to look at the kid. He might actually do, if he learned to control his mouth.
“Telepathy.”
Gus raised an eyebrow, then sent, ”What side?”
From Harvey’s jump and shock, he’d never been around a strong sender before. “Receiving, I think?” He shrugged. “I’ve never tried sending. Never had a reason.”
Gus nodded. ”Normal. Try sending, kid. I’ll let you in, if I hear you.”
Thus ensued five minutes of silence. Gus watched the clock tick away absently, keeping his attention on Harvey. The kid looked like he was trying as hard as he could to send something, but, open as Gus was, all he could hear was the static of Harvey’s walls around everything but surface thoughts. As those surface thoughts – fleeting scraps that he doubted Harvey was consciously aware of – were not the intended sendings, Gus at last sighed and said, aloud, “Nothing. But you’re a receiver. That’s good; those are often more useful to us.”
“But—”
Gus held up a hand. Harvey stopped talking, looking like a wounded puppy. Gus smiled slightly. “Kid, senders are useless if they can’t receive. Receivers, though, make all of our lives easier, especially if you have a decent amount of empathy.”
Harvey looked like he was about to protest. Gus scowled, and added, “Go down five doors on the right and talk to the people in there and tell them I said you were a receiver.”
“Alright.” “Bloody coal miner.”
The sending hit Gus like a a shot, but Harvey had already turned to the door. Gus smiled, and sent a thought to the woman he had directed Harvey to. “Su— he’s got some sender in him, too.”
He felt her clear her mind to a single thought. Thanks.
“Anything for you,” he said in reply, and meant it.
The door closed, and Gus turned back to his work, thoughtful. If they got another strong s/r ‘path, maybe they’d left him retire to the Works and his machines. He’d like that. But until then...
He sighed, and continued checking numbers and names. |
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Post by Amneiger on Oct 26, 2010 0:21:43 GMT -5
Amnei -- Nope. I think it might be vaguely on the list of things I may read someday, but it's not something I really see reason to read. Watch me build the world around and before, but without giving much thought to what actually happens. xD I think this is 'cause I need the base, but the story comes out of what Is and Who is. Well, I suppose you got the gist of it from Anathem. It's a somewhat common theme in Neal Stephenson's novels. xD An intellectual, scientific elite seperated from the uneducated masses, kind of. Cryptonomicon had it a bit, while Snow Crash had it very strongly. And you've said that before, I think. xD |
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 26, 2010 0:25:45 GMT -5
Amnei -- Nope. I think it might be vaguely on the list of things I may read someday, but it's not something I really see reason to read. Watch me build the world around and before, but without giving much thought to what actually happens. xD I think this is 'cause I need the base, but the story comes out of what Is and Who is. Well, I suppose you got the gist of it from Anathem. It's a somewhat common theme in Neal Stephenson's novels. xD An intellectual, scientific elite seperated from the uneducated masses, kind of. Cryptonomicon had it a bit, while Snow Crash had it very strongly. And you've said that before, I think. xD Mm. Not altogether an unusual theme, that. Probablypossibly but so what? xD |
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Post by Amneiger on Oct 26, 2010 0:28:13 GMT -5
Well, I suppose you got the gist of it from Anathem. It's a somewhat common theme in Neal Stephenson's novels. xD An intellectual, scientific elite seperated from the uneducated masses, kind of. Cryptonomicon had it a bit, while Snow Crash had it very strongly. And you've said that before, I think. xD Mm. Not altogether an unusual theme, that. Probablypossibly but so what? xD Well, most other writers have the elite getting blown up or something at the end, while Stephenson has them as the good guys. xD So. So it is.  |
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Post by Shadaras on Oct 26, 2010 0:37:25 GMT -5
Newtitle that is awesome. And mostly fits in my head, at least. =D Mm. Not altogether an unusual theme, that. Probablypossibly but so what? xD Well, most other writers have the elite getting blown up or something at the end, while Stephenson has them as the good guys. xD So. So it is. Eh, suppose that's a difference, 'least. |
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