Re: Laws of the Night OOC and Discussion
Ronny's fine, actually it's best since most people don't use my full name anyways. If it seems I'm answering slow in your prologue don't worry I have to pace it a little so as not to give things away elsewhere.
Also for an example if any of you are having trouble with your "homework". This is what I'm looking for as demonstrated by Rule.
"The jogger on the path is moving fast, and Fletch is struggling to keep up. It's probably his luck the man is listening to music, or he would hear him rustling through the underbrush rather easily. Eventually though he falls behind, and it's at that point Fletch decides to screw this stealth business. With a posture like his, he's not meant for sneaking, damnit. So the big man steps out -
Into the smoldering heat of an Iraqi village.
Fletch stops dead. His eyes squint almost shut from the sudden bright light. Only his lips move – they twitch, again and again, as if they suffered a tiny seizure all of their own. “This isn't real,” he whispers. He remembers that day – it was one of the good ones, but that doesn't mean much. The fights had ceased for a little while, the village was safe. There's no real reason for him to come back here, out of all places. But there's never a real reason to his flashbacks. It can be the most trivial shit, or the worst hell he ever lived through. And good God, they've never been this... vivid. He can feel the dry air, and he can hear the steps of the jogger...
Right, the jogger!
With a curse on his lips Fletch turns and runs after him. He notices the memory – the halluzination – getting hazy. Every one of his heavy steps seems to shake it, like a hand-held camera effect in one of those recent movies. Eventually, parts of it fall apart like a crumbling structure, and the park peers through the cracks. Still the big man is speeding up, running faster than he ever did before, and the village with its heat slowly disappears behind him. By the time the jogger hears him and turns around, it's already too late. Fletch jumps – no, he pounces. The jogger moves, reaches for something, but it's too late. Fletch buries him underneath his body, pins him to the ground and bares his teeth.
The man's intended cry comes out as a groan when Fletch digs his fangs into his neck. As the blood hits Fletch's tongue, it's like he touched a live wire. No beer, no cigar in the world can be as delicious as this. He closed his eyes to savor the effect, and he doesn't open them again until he has taken at least a pint of a blood. When he does open them, he finds himself face to face with a mangled, torn apart corpse in a U.S. Army uniform.
With a choked gasp Fletch jumps back and falls on his ass, crawling away from the apparition before getting to his feet. They carry him back into the darkness at break-neck speed, leaving the dazed jogger behind by himself."
Any questions knock yourself out.
