Take Two

[MessengerOfDreams]

So the art of the forum story has long been dead, until now.

I'm working on a forum story that involves all of y'all as characters. It'll be somewhat true to life albeit with a long-expanded, sorta jumbled timeline. I'm gonna be the main character, sorry, but it's definitely a story that will glorify the five of you representing different roles for different people that I've experienced in my tenure lately as I've worked out of a streak of depression and the fear of being irrelevant. The theme is Runolympics and teamwork, yes? So the plot is that I'm someone who hasn't felt relevant or some creative spark in years, but finds herself running into new, talented members who slowly coax her out of her shell, to stop living in the past or feeling like they're a relic and work to make her mark in the industry again by taking Supershroom's offer to compete on his team for the Runolympics.

This first scene is of me in Demonik's Tavern talking with FrozenFire, who I've portrayed here as a new visual artist phenomena, which is super true to this forum. Like I've said, I still need character names from y'all if you can offer them, but I'm also working in pennames/usernames as well. For instance, my character here is uncomfortable offering their name because they haven't decided it yet. I'm toying around with a lot of ideas.

Feedback is much, much, much appreciated! Take a look at this, I'm gonna keep working on the story. It'll be large, imagine six segments this size, but I can bang out a lot of writing in a small amount of time. I just need y'all as my quality check team, to offer ideas and make sure I'm on the right track.

Thanks, Team Super. I'm super stoked for the future.

Days like this I feel like I'm gonna be scraping blacktop shards out of my knees for days. Doesn't take much to trip me up on those days- I've mastered the art of falling without anyone pushing me down. I'm nursing my wounds from a long day of fruitless set work with some post-rock no one knows or cares about, some cold washcloths nursing old scars, and a bottle of soda. Jones soda, to be exact. The soda that used to be the type of soda I'd drink to celebrate something. Despite just finishing a new script I'm not sure why I'm drinking it.

You know that feeling you get when you finish something huge that you've been working on for ages? Everyone sees it, and you're stunned by the fact that they appreciate it. For a moment you're on top of the world- you did something amazing and everyone respects you for it. You're not just some nobody. You're somebody talented, someone who's done something no one will forget.

Yeah, guess I'm drinking this soda to remember that feeling. I don't drink, probably never will drink. I think that'd drive home points I don't wanna face. I'm already busy being someone I'm not. So I just drink the soda and reminisce like an old war vet. Yeah, like I've done something that heroic.

The door opens and reminds me that I'm not as alone as I feel. I look up just long enough to convey that this bottle's going over the head of anyone who thinks I'm in the mood to turn off this relaxing ♥♥♥♥ post-rock. The easygoing smile of someone who isn't at all alarmed or threatened by my ♥♥♥♥ disarms me and I reluctantly pause the iPod, silently bemoaning the fact that I'll have to start the track over when I'm done if I'm gonna feel anything. I watch this guy walk through the bar. He's a handsome, well-dressed young man, but in a distant way that seems untouchable. His clothing is clearly custom-made with an explosive, distinctly colorful style. I realize at first that it's a FrozenFire brand jacket- amazing clothes with explosive patterns that I've been daring myself to buy a dress of- and I figure the kid's just got good taste until I look at him. That's a fresh-faced tan face that I've seen smiling like a dope on many fashion covers, and I don't know how I feel about him wearing his own brand of clothing, but I guess if you've got it, work it, and he does.

The new hotness takes that as initiative to sit next to me. Yeah, because there's no other open seats in the entire tavern. Not nearly as many people go to Demonik's tavern anymore now that Nik's not running the place. You'll find new people come here just for the experience like it's a tourist attraction. Just another relic that I was supposed to join awhile back. Makes me wonder if I'm just a eulogized legend that forgot to die. I wouldn't say Kurt Cobain was onto something but he had merit in his plans.

♥♥♥♥, thank God he can't hear my internal thoughts, he'd think I'm crazy. I let him keep that ideal of the Messenger and whatever the hell that was all about and finally decide to emulate social and normal people. “What's up?” I say, clumsily tacking on “Sorry for the quiet and all.”

FF shrugs. “It's okay,” he says, legs stretched lazily from the end of the booth like someone who knows he can run this town but chooses not to yet. “Haven't really been here before so I figured I'd find someone who had. You've been around here awhile, yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah. You're asking the wrong guy, though. I don't drink alcohol.”

“Thanks, Messenger,” he replies with a laugh, “but that's not what I meant.”

“Don't call me Messenger,” I reply too abruptly, even though I can't remember this guy's real name. “Call me...” I think for a second and stop. I know I've got my scarf tighter than a noose right now and I've found the skinny jeans I used to pretend I didn't own, because ♥♥♥♥, I'm in my fifties, I don't need the world knowing that, but I've also got a two-day's growth of beard that doesn't know when to leave the ♥♥♥♥ alone. So I just blurt “...nevermind.”

“Sorry,” he says, but I wave him off. I notice that he has a notepad with him. It's not a sketchpad like Ani has when she does her artistic endeavors. I remember FF's a graphic artist, I guess in addition to all the other ♥♥♥♥ he's been making waves in. “I'm mostly wondering what it's like in here nowadays. Ya know, who's here, who's working...” He sighs, looking away as if he's embarrassed to stoop to this level. “You know, the rustic charm of this place.”

“Oh. Old folk reminiscing.” I sound as enthusiastic as I feel, and FF notices, looking embarrassed when really I'm wondering why the new star of the forum has any business canoodling with an archaic ♥♥♥♥ like me.

“Something like that,” he mumbles, trying to keep a hold on that youthful the-world-is-my-playground charisma. I'm so not in the mood, especially now that journalism's not what it used to be. All the chronicling's lost its soul. I tend to the timeline as often as I can because it's like being there again but you don't get the essence of a city, a society, a revolution through a glorified news ticker.

I think for a second because I've got no good answer. “Well, it's hard to explain,” I say. “I mean, I can't really see the city as it is now through your eyes. I just see it through mine. How long you been here?”

FF counts on his fingers. The kid has to count. That's how long he's been here. I feel like I should be giving the little ♥♥♥♥ a sippy cup. “Six months in a week,” he says.

I nod. “Yeah, that's around when I started going here, six months in. For me it was more that this was the in spot and I wasn't in a good enough place to actually face-to-face interact with people. I mean, I wasn't for a long while, but I wasn't at the point where I was stupid enough to think I was.”

FF laughs, kicking me lightly. “Don't be so hard on yourself, man,” he says.

I shake my head. “Not important, don't worry.”

He shrugs. “I think figuring out where everyone was in a place like this in its heyday is the interesting part. Everyone goes to a bar for a reason. Some to drink, some to socialize, some just to feel like a part of something.”

I nod. “Yeah, and ya know, no two people were the same. I mean, you could tell too. Back then when the city was small everything felt more intimate. I mean...” I swallow, more out of annoyance with myself than anything. “I'm not gonna be the grouch that complains about everything changing. Things change. That's time for you. All I can say is, the way you're feeling now, just... here.” I gesture to the city around me behind these walls, which is much grander than my unbelievable wingspan can reach. “That's timeless. That's how everyone was feeling. Everyone's wondering if they're gonna make it. If they're gonna be worth a damn. And they're here to build their slice of the community.”

I look away, kind of wishing I did drink so I had an excuse to not think about this. FF is scrawling into his notebook like a madman. I imagine the sort of artwork he could wring from a weathered artist's musing and I smile, the kind of smile that's visibly trying to block out envy. I knock it off when I hear him stop writing and he says “Thank you, Messenger.”

If only I could decide on an actual name. Maybe be a person for once. “You're welcome,” I reply.

FF finally addresses a bartender- Brandon, who's taken a job here as the new chief amongst a bunch of greenhorns who I doubt I'll ever meet. He orders some sort of drink I honestly can't understand and honestly I'm not sure if even Brandon does. Whatever it is, it sounds sinful- I feel like an inadvertent drug trafficker just letting it happen. I fix my scarf and let them interact, taking a drink of my soda and watching the conversation proceed without me.

Brandon catches my eye and asks if I need anything. I feel weird about asking him for a drink seeing as I used to idolize the guy, so I just shake my head in that moody way I'm becoming known for. FF turns back to me and asks “So, are you working on any movies right now?”

I nod stiffly, even though the movie's the last thing I want to think about. “Yeah, I've got a good script going.” Not much else good going on, I'm getting strung up on my concept. I've been watching my old films trying to recapture the magic that everyone else is seeing but through my eyes it doesn't feel fresh; just stained from the thousands of hours put into every single one of them.

FF nods. “Yeah, they say you're one of the best writers here.”

“They say a lot of things,” I reply, waving it off.

He looks away for a bit to ask “Hey, if you ever need help with... anything...” I raise an eyebrow, because he's acting way too embarrassed about this. “Give me a shout. We could work together sometime.”

The thought has me saying “Thanks, but I'm usually solo.” Immediately I feel like the wannabe big shot that I am. I know Kyle's off doing his own scientific field rather than working set concept, and he's the only other artist I'd trust to work with- and none of that trust was based off of filling technical needs. That's what FF hasn't learned yet. He's insanely talented, but he needs to find his own path- get with the people that he connects with. That's how you get things done. The fact that I've only collaborated with Kyle is precedent for my own set of problems.

FF nods slowly. “Yeah, I get that,” he says, or something similar- it's an embarrassed mumble that makes me feel like an absolute ♥♥♥♥. He notices other people have come in, which is weird as ♥♥♥♥, and says “Thanks for the talk, man. Take care of yourself, I'm gonna see what they've got to say.”

“Good idea,” I say. I watch FF talk with a new woman, a natural and beautiful young thing with curly black hair and a wonder-driven smile, the type I should have been. He talks to her like a natural and grabs the drano-colored liquid from Brandon. She talks to him freely, either because she's star-struck, or maybe just passionate about something. I think about what's left in the fragments of my mind of our conversation and I already feel that feeling of caring about something fading away.

[Supershroom]

First off, incredible story project. I've finally taken some free time to read through it, and while I've thought I'd take a whole hour (yeah, non-native speaker), it only was a half or such. Looks very promising, and I'm already looking forward to what's coming next.

If I were you, I'd focus on making the dialog even more prominent by removing a few neglegible sentences between speeches, as it could perhaps be tricky at first to keep track of the dialog, e.g.

but I've also got a two-day's growth of beard that doesn't know when to leave the ♥♥♥♥ alone

could be one half sentence too much. Maybe. (just my perception)

In case you didn't plan it already, I'd recommend submitting a screenplay just like you did in the 2014 Halloween Story Contest, especially since with a larger, clearner font the reading experience is even better.

Supershroom

[MessengerOfDreams]

I didn't actually submit a screenplay for the Halloween contest but it might actually be worth it here. I would have to adapt this chapter to it but I think that's doable. It would easily cut down on a lot of baseless narration although my character would definitely have an inner monologue.

Thoughts, everyone?

[Supershroom]

ew, screenplay

that's when I forget to look up words, I was referring to your 17-page spreadsheet

but on the bright side this has given you a cool idea

[MessengerOfDreams]

Ultimately an idea I decided against. Too much boils down to incorporating the past, and that's not something I can do cleanly with screenplay.

[MessengerOfDreams]

I both made the second part (KABOOM) and skipped straight ahead to the fifth part and the conclusion.

I have the plans to add Jumbo as an upcoming designer who has some visual innovation, and Fluorescence as the newcomer eager to make a splash. Please let me know if anything seems wrong- I improvised names entirely. Another storyline I will incorporate to the first part and perhaps the second is the "death" of Suyo, which further enforces the mood of the piece and his forced retirement is something that happened around the same timeline. Another element will also be the construction of "Leaves from the Vine" which is set as a documentary in process that links me to some of the designers. The "script" will probably be what brings me to Jumbo, and I'm still trying to figure out where I'd incorporate Fluorescence. Probably my final interview.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1V2t ... sp=sharing

[Supershroom]

Hey MoD, do you really think that EoT was a flop? Of course it wasn't as successful as its prequel, but you still scored a 2nd place and the duel against Harmless with it. And some issues with difficulty and particularily bland graphics held it back for the most part, not the story itself.

Shroom continues reading, being very interested in what comes next.

[MessengerOfDreams]

It's very relative and I'm aware that it's first world problems, but my problem was that I went into it with far too high of an ego, saying I was going to top Dark and make like the best thing ever, and I absolutely didn't. It was a hard lesson to learn because it failed my expectations and for reasons I could have avoided, the most of which being I designed to achieve fame and replicate my success, not out of desire to communicate my ideas. I loved the script but everything else didn't go well. So while it was a relative success it was a failure to myself because I had to reassess why I was designing. It also didn't help that it was made during a heavy depression streak (which is an underlying subject in this story) which meant I was creatively tapped. If you liked it, yay, but I didn't really like it.

I'll work on some more today.

[MessengerOfDreams]

Progress has been made today, and Jumbo's segment has been added. As far as story content, I need to finish Fluor's segment and finish the end. Then, I'll edit the content to see everything line up better, as well as streamline the story better. For the most part, I'm 80% of the way done with the content.