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Post by Canuovea on Mar 15, 2019 21:21:08 GMT
Ah yes, okay, but that is maybe how she might feel about it. If she saw other options, would she be interested in the suicide option really?
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Post by wordweaver3 on Mar 15, 2019 22:02:39 GMT
There are a couple of things motivating her toward that end. First of all, she's descended from the wealthiest line in her village. Her mother had provided her with a house and fields to get her life started. She had multiple house men who were eager to move in with her early on because she was in a wealthy line. She grew up with the expectation of wealth. Unfortunately she couldn't hold up her end so she ended up losing her property back to her mother, and house men aren't obligated to stay. Her life is way off the path she was hoping to be on, she feels like a failure compared to her sisters, she thinks she's damaged the reputation of her family, and she's still young enough that she can't see past such a setback.
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Post by wordweaver3 on Mar 18, 2019 7:22:51 GMT
Another bit of a stumbling block I've stubbed my toe on:
So doing some research and since the subject is serial killers I inevitably get to Silence of the Lambs. I get to Lecter's escape scene and...
...fuck me...
There's a disemboweled guy strung up in a crucified position. I didn't mean to do it but I lifted imagery from the most famous movie about serial killers and put it in my story about a serial killer. I haven't seen the movie in a long time but without a doubt I was subconsciously grasping at it. Even if I can convince myself that it's not some sort of blatant rip off, it's highly unlikely a reader is going to be so forgiving.
So I need to come up with something new.
The killer wants his (or her) work to be displayed. He wants people to find it and be awed by it. So stringing them up somehow makes sense. I suppose they could be hung by the neck, but that lacks a certain something. Doesn't seem as deliberate as stringing someone up to face a certain way. There's also the religious subtext that accompanies crucifixion that kinda feels off about it anyway. That's a more modern interpretation of religion.
I have to think on this some more.
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Post by StyxD on Mar 18, 2019 12:58:44 GMT
I've never watched Silence of the Lambs, but isn't this "crucified and disemboweled" position so generic that it's hard to really say it was taken from any one work? If anything, it made me think more of Silent Hill, where one such corpse features in a prominent scene.
And anyway, this seems to be such a insignificant detail, hardly worth of a rewrite. It's like not letting the protagonist use a sword in a heroic fantasy story because it would be a rip-off of King Arthur and Excalibur.
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Post by wordweaver3 on Mar 18, 2019 16:30:47 GMT
Yeah, now it's generic because it happened in Silence of the Lambs.
It being so commonplace is all the more reason not to use it. In 1991 it was shocking, today it's schlock.
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Post by wordweaver3 on Mar 18, 2019 21:00:56 GMT
(Eh... misgivings aside I'm gonna push on a bit)
Chapter 4
Ket woke up and shivered. The sky above her was slowly shifting from black to blue with clouds hanging nearly motionless. The stars were winking away in the wake of the coming dawn. All around her the green stems of barley stood over her with dew glistening on their narrow leaves. The young lady sat up, groaned, and put a hand on her face. Her head was throbbing and her eyes felt dry and coarse. Next to her a man wearing a great deal of her smeared paint on his face and body slumbered contently.
Ket stood up, found her felt loin cloth nearby and slipped it on. The garment was uncomfortably cold and damp. She brushed the sand off of herself and looked around. The previous night's bonfire continued to smolder and smoke in the distance. Ket walked back to the village through the barley field, nearly stepping on a pair of men peacefully laying together on her way.
The village was still asleep. Most were still lounging drunkenly around the bonfire but some had sense enough to go back to their huts. It would be a late morning for them by the time they recovered from the previous night. Nev was still lying undisturbed in front of the fire. Ket didn't see Onu anywhere nearby and was surprised by that. The holy man was at the point where he couldn't stand anymore by the time Ket had gotten enough courage to drag a man out to the field. Hopefully he didn't drink himself to death. She was in no position to conduct the proper rituals by herself yet.
She made her way down to the river. Her skin felt greasy and her mouth had the bitter flavor of the wine lingering in it, making her feel a bit queasy. It would be nice to get cleaned up.
"Good morning!" Onu greeted her cheerily when she arrived. He was up to his waist in the water, scraping away the ceremonial dressing from his skin with a bathing knife. On the shore Ket noticed the straw bag that contained their washing implements.
"The deep spot is over there." He told her, pointing his thumb upriver over his shoulder.
"You're up early." Ket observed as she hung her loincloth on a tree and waded in.
"Haven't been to sleep yet." He said. "Still a bit wobbly and waiting for Tain's Revenge."
"I'm already there." Ket told him as she rubbed at her temples. Tain, the god of food and wine, was always quick to punish those who overindulged. "What were you doing up all night?"
The holy man grinned. "What were you doing all night?" He asked astutely.
"Ah..." She replied before diving into the water. She swam down to find the bottom before arching her back and returning to the surface. The slow moving river was warmer than the crisp morning air, but only just. Didn't help with her chill but did seem to improve her headache. She spent a few minutes wiping away the paint from her body while treading water. Took in a mouthful of water, swished it around and spit it out. She swam around for a while to invigorate herself and try to cast off the effects of the hangover. She loved swimming, but the dry summer season had reduced the river to the point where there were few places deep enough to engage in the activity. Onu had told her that on their journey down the river they would soon come across a lake where fine swimming could be had, and even farther down where the river ended was a lake so vast it went all the way to the end of the Earth. Ket couldn't wait to see that.
Ket returned to the shallows with Onu. She ducked into the water to scoop up two handfuls of sand to cleanse her skin with.
"The sand here is quite nice." She noted as she rubbed it on herself.
"It's much better than the muck they have downriver." Onu said. "You should probably get your fill before we head there." He had the bathing knife stuck behind his ear and was working sand and fire ash into his beard in an attempt to tease out the sticky oil. Ket noticed that his back was still covered with it.
"How long are we staying here?" She asked as she plucked the knife from his ear and moved behind him to work on it.
"Tonight is the open eye, so we'll have to head up to the spirit house to guide the other three." He told her. "A day of purifying and a day of rest after that and we'll move on."
"So soon?" She wondered, a little disappointed by the pace. She wasn't looking forward to dragging the travois again.
"We're a bit behind." He said. The unspoken implication being that she was slowing him down. Ket had a sense that he was a lot behind, but wasn't willing to openly lay the blame on her. She scrapped at the oil on his back. The bone knife peeled away the drying goo like a snake's skin, exposing the tattoos on his back. As she worked her way lower she noticed that he had a ring of small blisters around his waist where the grass skirt had burned. She paid careful attention not to scrape over them with the knife. Scrubbing some sand on his back scoured away anything that the knife had missed. Ket helped him with his hair and beard as well. Running a wooden comb through to make sure everything was removed.
Onu turned to her and put a hand on her face. "Close your eyes." He asked. Ket had the strange feeling that he would kiss her again, but instead he rubbed his wet thumb on the inside corner of her eye.
"You still have a little paint left." He explained before taking her shoulders to turn her back to him. He took the comb and started to work on her hair, pulling apart the long braid. Tending a woman's hair was a chore that was usually reserved for a house man and beneath the dignity of a teacher. However, it wasn't her place to question him on it. Not to mention she no longer had a house man to do it for her.
"When do I get to learn how to do what you did?" Ket asked, taking the opportunity to speak about her training. "Walk the fire path?"
"Fire passage takes years to master." He said as he carefully coaxed a tangle out of her dark, waist length hair. "You may have noticed even I haven't managed that yet. You need more understanding of the ancient language before we can even start on fire passage."
The young lady grimaced. "More understanding" indicated that he expected she had acquired some of it. She felt like she understood it even less than she had before she started. She was having trouble getting her mind around a language that had no discernible words in it.
The comb was gliding smoothly through her hair and Onu swept it over her shoulder so it would hang down the front. Ket started to run her hands over it to work out the water and the guide scrubbed her back to remove any paint residue that remained.
"How long did it take you to learn the ancient language?" She asked.
Onu took her hair back to finish with it. Running the comb through a few additional times. "About three summers." He said as he started to twist her hair into a loose braid. "However, my teacher always said I was a bit thick. I don't expect you'll take that long. It's grasping the basic sense of the language that's tough, everything after that falls into place nearly by itself."
"I don't have three summers." Ket said.
Onu's hands paused at their task. "People will think ill of me if I can't keep a student."
The young woman didn't say anything.
Onu finished with her hair. "When it dries I'll tighten it up for you." He assured her.
"Thank you, Guide Onu." She said and she waded back to the shore. Ket put her loin cloth on and headed to the village, feeling irritated with her teacher. That her choice might inconvenience him wasn't her fault. Onu had set the terms of their arrangement himself. One summer and one winter. No more. At that time he would agree to her original request and guide her into the sky.
Just as he had done for Nev.
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Post by Harkovast on Mar 18, 2019 22:18:19 GMT
I'll make time to read this soon, I promise!
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Post by wordweaver3 on Mar 18, 2019 23:30:56 GMT
I'll make time to read this soon, I promise!
Don't worry. I'm specifically not hassling you about it cuz I know you asked me to read something that I still haven't.
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Post by wordweaver3 on Mar 18, 2019 23:32:21 GMT
Changed all the parts with the story on it to a different color so they'll be easier to find as this gets longer and with more comments between.
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Post by Canuovea on Mar 19, 2019 0:39:55 GMT
Hooks. Could always hang the body via hooks. On ropes, from the trees.
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Post by wordweaver3 on Mar 19, 2019 1:18:23 GMT
I was thinking something like that. Like barbed bone harpoon points or something stuck into the shoulders. That way the display wouldn't elicit christian imagery.
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Post by zaealix on Mar 19, 2019 1:29:01 GMT
Hrm. Weirdly enough, a burial comes to mind as a thing. The problem is as an accepted tradition in our world, it won't necessarily carry the same sense of horror you seem to want...Though here's a notion I like: You have a scene of the killer slowly burying someone alive, and cature their internal horror at being a spirit lost in the earth, never able to escape to the sky... Then for an added bonus the killer does something to indicate to their tribesmen that this spot needs digging, and then they find a kinsman who died being buried alive. With the added bonus that because of they didn't know they just exposed someone's spirit to frying in the sunlight. A one-two of horror that turns the burial notions we accept on their head.
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Post by wordweaver3 on Mar 19, 2019 2:06:41 GMT
I like the way you're thinking, Zaealix. Burial without first freeing the spirit is something they would fear. Being buried alive is probably the most horrifying thing imaginable. Having Su destroy your spirit is bad enough, being trapped underground and suffering eternally would be worse.
It would also be a feasible starting point for a concept that would eventually evolve into what we know as Hell.
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Post by Harkovast on Mar 19, 2019 18:20:53 GMT
If you read the thing I told you too, then I will have no excuse.
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Post by StyxD on Mar 19, 2019 20:04:13 GMT
Yeah, now it's generic because it happened in Silence of the Lambs.
It being so commonplace is all the more reason not to use it. In 1991 it was shocking, today it's schlock.
You know, I still vehemently disagree. For one, crucifying people for shock value is clearly ripping off ancient Romans, not some 1991 movie. Also, it's such a small detail that I can't believe anyone is going to care. But if you want to change it, I've gotten an idea, you can take it if you want. How about hanging the corpse upside down, by bound-together ankles? Kids might look at it as her floating upside-down, with arms reaching towards them. I don't feel like I have anything to say about the latest fragment. It's a solid building piece. Although I have doubts about the penultimate paragraph. Without revealing wider context of Ket's circumstances, it sounds a bit… immature? "You have one year to make me a fully-fledged guide or I'll kill myself." It's not a major issue, but I reckon that we're supposed to be sympathetic to Ket, and without showing the despair with which she struck that deal, it doesn't really sound that way.
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