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    1. ZB1996 9 yrs ago

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6 yrs ago
A run-on sentence does not mean a long sentence.
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6 yrs ago
@Ophidian Funny thing, that was always my court.
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6 yrs ago
Nanowrimo time.
4 likes
7 yrs ago
I didn't even know Life is Strange had a prequel before Fabricant mentioned it. Going to have to pull some money out of somewhere.
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7 yrs ago
@Fabricant, I think I understand what you're saying, but it still made no sense.
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On the topic of romance, no matter what I do I'm never able to set up real romantic tension between characters. It did happen once accidentally last year between a pair of characters, but I was never able to settle that since there was never a time when a kiss scene wouldn't have been completely out of place.

The vision I have of my characters from when I begin to write tends to be radically different from when I begin. This seems to be affect me without fail. This year I had planned a side character who had a fiery, even rude personality. She's now turned a trickster whose pretty kind, and has turned into the main character. The fact that I am even able to surprise myself is undoubtedly the best part of pantsing for me.
Riza


Riza looked to the row of bottles that the Field Supervisor had all set up. Riza knew that they must have been far from homogenous, since the Field Supervisor had ordered them to a bottle from the left first. Riza was not much a drinker, but he had could hold his own on that front well enough. As long as he didn't have to outdrink some Erubescian drunk he suspected he should be fine. Riza approached the drinks and took one off the table.

"Cheers," Riza said.

Then Riza, rising the drink to his mouth, took a gulp of it.
It took me forty pages to actually get to a point where something happens. And I'm still not satisfied with the imagery.


I have the same problem. For Nanawrimo I generally try fast-paced, action-packed writing, but I don't think I can really write a flesh-outed story that can be written in 50,000 words.
I realized that the more years I participate in NaNoWriMo the lazier I get.


















Written by me and TheDuncanMorgan
@EchoicChamber Sorry about that. It was just a mistake, and I've fixed it now.
Riza let out a smile as Beretta entered the room, to try to help her become at ease, if that was possible. It was naturally for one to be nervous for one’s first assignment, but Beretta was far too nervous. She was unfortunately far too nervous. Then he saw Agent Lesauvage enter. It was quite the sight to behold, he dressed fully in Erubesco attire. If he had seen a civilian dressed in such a manner he would have brought them in for question.

“Agent Baretta, Agent Khan,” Agent Lesauvage said.

“Agent Lesauvage,” Khan replied. “You’re sure on top of things.”

Truth be told, Riza had said it as a joke. He simply could not help himself. Riza thought of himself as someone who was punctual and did the things he was ordered to, but he would never have thought to dress himself as an Erubescian before they had even left the country. Yet if Agent Lesauvage wanted to dress early, that was fine too, he supposed. Such thoughts were not important. The Field Supervisor, Canvas Fajaar, was addressing him now, though she seemed oddly enthusiastic about Agent Lesauvage’s outfit. Yet perhaps all the officers of this sector were silly.

“Agent Khan, I presume? I've heard good things. I think you'll be a great asset to this mission," Canvas said.

“Thank you, sir,” Riza said, in complete accordance with military discipline.
Riza

As the sun rose to greet the new day Riza was already rising. He lived in a small apartment on the 11th floor of an apartment building. All of it might have been nondescript to the uttermost to someone who lived in Erubesco, but Riza lived in Liberty. This was the way of Liberty, simple, uniform, united, and no one could convince Riza that there could be any other way. As he looked over the sea of pristine white buildings that littered this great city Riza could not help but think that the city looked absolutely beautiful amongst the light the rising sun as it illuminated and shined off its buildings. Riza dressed himself in his uniform. The plain black suit of the Homeland Protection Sector was nothing fancy, but it was practical and easily made. After a quick breakfast of nothing but some butterless toast with some eggs and a glass of milk he went on his way.

As he went on his way to work he was greeted by the janitor on his way out. The people here knew what his job was, roughly. They were always amiable to him, greeting him as he went out to work and came back from work. Whether it was a true friendliness or a show to not offend a loyal governmental did not matter Riza. If you acted friendly towards someone for long enough you became their friend, whether you meant to or not. The pristine steel elevator was crowded, as it so typically was. Just now was the time when pretty much everyone was heading out to work.

As Riza made his way out of the building he stood on the street he had only to wait a moment, long enough to look at his watch and wonder whether his ride was late – he wasn’t – when he pulled up. A thick and long black car pulled up to the street. Riza quickly opened up the back door and entered as usual, and as he fastened his seatbelt the car went off. Justin was sitting in the front as usual, and as they continued driving Riza waited for his orders.

“The Sector thanks you for your service,” Justin said. “In the meantime, you’ve got some new orders. You’ve been assigned to an espionage assignment. Head of the [redacted] branch is leading an infiltration to an Erubesco Ball. You’ll be informed of the details later. You are to report to [redacted] immediately and await further orders. Councilor Heather Laxton is now your commanding officer. At least for the time being.”

“Aye aye,” Riza said. “So it’s an inter-branch mission, then? And with Councilor Laxton leading. But why I am being assigned to it? I could understand Defense sending an agent, but Homeland Protection?”

“I’ve been informed that this mission involves a national security issue,” Justin said. “And remember Riza, loyalty is key. Agents who ask too many question end behind an office desk.”

“Right, right,” Riza said. “I was just curious. But [redacted] is my commanding officer, and I will fulfill her command completely. You don’t need to worry on that end. After all, when have I ever questioned Liberty?”

“Never,” he said. “And now’s no time to start.”

Councilor Laxton. Riza had never had the pleasure to meet her, but he was already well aware of who she was. At the age of twenty-nine she was already the head of the Espionage Sector. Yet Riza was not impressed by her. He knew she was a slovenly woman who lacked propriety. She was not the kind of woman that belong in Liberty, yet she had somehow climbed so high so fast. Riza would not look forward to serving under her. He could not imagine that she would be the ideal commander. Justin continued to tell Riza more details, specifically where he was supposed to meet the Councilor.

When he was dropped off at the headquarters of the Espionage Sector he removed himself from the car, and Justin drove off. Riza walked into the headquarters. Showing his badge and telling him just enough about his business here without telling him too much to endanger him, Riza was allowed to go up. He entered into a fairly small room, which was fairly plain and nodescript, where he saw that a woman who could have used a comb was sitting. Riza had a gentle smile on his face as he approached her, and went into a salute.

“Councilor Laxton,” Riza said. “It is an honor. I trust you have been properly informed that I shall be assisting you for the duration of the mission.”

Cecily

Cecily stood in front of the entrance of the Erubescian cathedral, doing her best to stand tall with her rifle by her side, though as time wore on it became increasingly difficult to look like she was looking attentive. She was now on guard duty. This meant nothing else than that she stood guard, making sure that no one made any trouble. Who would dare to cause trouble here? No one that she was aware of, and that was perhaps what made the whole thing so dull. To be sure there were people coming and going, and things to do and things to see, but these had nothing to do with her. She had her orders, and was to stay put right here. It might’ve been all well and good to say that you had a position at the cathedral, but there was no glory to be gained as someone who had merely guarded a gate. A mere dog could do the same, and as long as she remained here she was nothing but a dog.

Yet she understood why she was here. Her uniform hid it, but she could not hide from herself her what lay beneath her wound. On her leg was a huge gash, a wound from the war. It still hurt, though Cecily would never admit it; she had lied about that part. It was no longer the bother it once was, it was healing, but that wound she could still feel, and she supposed that it would never really disappear. It brought back had memories. Whenever she looked at it she felt as though she had returned to the battlefield fought when the sun was at dusk. After marching on to Liberty territory they dug in. They knew that retribution would be swift, but command was convinced that could win. They underestimated Liberty. They had to withdraw, but before that Cecily had to fight. The battle had been hard, and she received this wound to the leg from a bullet from long-range. It turned out that not even a gift would bring her down, but a bullet, something a mere human could’ve managed.

She had been noted for distinguished conduct, but had not been given a promotion. Now she was sent here, away from the fighting, to recover. She could at least do guard duty now. The memories bothered her more than the pain ever did. But she did not think much more of that. She had become lost in thought for a second, but the thought now passed from her. She yawned, already tired of her guard duty. She hoped that it would be ending soon. At last another conscript came up to him.

“I’m here to relieve you,” he said.

“Good. My feet are killing me,” Cecily said.

As Cecily saw her leave she saw some fool running past her in a hurry. What surprise her was that he had the bade of a Knight Commander. Cecily made sure to salute as he went by, but he didn’t really notice her. He seemed to be in a hurry. He certainly didn’t seem like a Knight Commander. Yet that didn’t have anything to do with her. She wondered if she’d find anything to do here. She was free for now. Many places here were locked away to a mere conscript like her, but if she was careful she just might find something here that caught her eye.
This'll be my third Nanowrimo. I'm both excited and worried, since I'm much busier than I was with the last two. It requires a lot of dedication and focus, but if you just keep writing no matter what you should be able to pull it off if you don't get hit by a truck of writer's block. For me whole thing became a lot easier once I created a chapter outline, which I unfortunately didn't have time to do this time around.







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