Post by Neko Bazu on Oct 18, 2007 14:12:27 GMT -1
Title: Try Again
Theme: The Wild West
Genre: Humour
Rating: 12A
Feedback: Yes, public
Warnings: Some bad language
Notes: Not really a proper story this time either (more of a vignette, or maybe even just a snippet), but it introduces my second original character – everyone, say hi to Shuu!
Try Again
The stable-boy winced as McCane leaned too close to him for comfort, the smell of cigar smoke and cheap whiskey on the gunslinger’s breath making the boy feel ill. Taking a step away from the older man, praying he’d not invade his personal bubble again, Jonas managed to force out, “I’m afraid there aren’t any horses available right now, sir.”
“Ah’m afraid that ain’t the answer ah was looking for,” McCane slurred, a leer on his lips. “An’ when ah don’t get the answer ah’m lookin’ for, people are prone to get hurt, ayuh…”
“I-I’m sorry, sir,” Jonas uttered in reply, taking an extra step away from McCane and trying not to look at the guns on his hips. “But we really don’t have anything available. If you’d like, you can wait until there’s another-”
Jonas yelped in fear as an empty whiskey bottle crashed into the wall beside his head, exploding and sending showers of glass everywhere.
“That still ain’t the answer ah’m lookin’ for, kid…” McCane drawled. “So ah’ll ask ya once more – do ya have any hosses for me to hire?”
“Uh-uhm, well, w-we might have some soon, i-if you’ll just-”
This time, Jonas found himself cut off by McCane’s fist, the gloved appendage smashing into his cheek and sending a blinding pain through Jonas’s face. The boy gave a cry as he rocked back against the wall, holding the bruise that was already forming where the drunkard had struck him.
“That ain’t the answer ah was lookin’ for,” McCane repeated again. “P’raps ah should teach ya some manners…”
The scene was interrupted as a bullet rang out, and in the next instant, McCane was on the floor, clutching at his now-bleeding foot. ”Shit, ya fuckin’ bastard, who the fuck-?”
The drunkard was silenced as a boot struck him clean in the temple, knocking him out cold. Without wasting a moment, Jonas’s rescuer grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the stable. “We’d better get going before someone comes investigating that shot!” he cried.
As the two boys took off down the street, Jonas struggling to keep up with his friend, he couldn’t help a breathless laugh. “Thanks, Hick,” he offered gratefully, before stumbling and just catching his footing again. “I owe ya!”
A grin graced his friend’s face. “No problem… pard’ner.”
The two kept running until they came to the farm Hick’s parents owned, where they took refuge in the hay barn. “I guess McCane won’t come looking here, huh?” Jonas remarked, panting as he caught his breath back.
“Ayuh,” Hick replied.
The two sat in silence in the hay after that, both boys getting their breathing back to normal. After a while, though. Jonas spoke up again.
“Hey, Hick,” he began. “How’d you know what was happening?”
“I was… I was watching you…” the slight elder of the two admitted. “Soon as I figured it out, I came for ya.”
“But weren’t you supposed to be working out here?” Jonas asked. “How come you were all the way down in town?”
“Well, I… Look, Jonas, there’s somethin’ ah gotta tell ya.”
“Oh?”
Hick cleared his throat nervously, before shuffling a couple of inches closer to his long-time friend. “Ah wanted to say this a while now, but ah never knew how. Ah guess ah’m jus’ gonna come out an’ say it…”
Jonas said nothing, but merely urged his friend on with a curious look in his eyes.
“Jonas, I… I-”
“-And I have no idea how he should say it!” Shuu wailed, flopping dramatically into the chair she’d been perched on the arm of. “I swear, the universe hates me!”
Rave set down the proto-novel Shuu had handed him, and fixed her with a serious look. “You know what? This wouldn’t normally be the case, but I agree entirely. The universe must really hate you-”
“I know! It’s like-”
“-to have made you so keen to be a writer, yet given you such little talent.”
“WHAT?!”
Rave cowered behind his arms as Shuu launched a cushion at him indignantly. “Hey, I’m just saying!” he protested. “I mean, look at it – how many clichés do you want to fit into it? The phrases, the accents – Hick apparently can’t decide what his is, by the way – the drunken bad guy, hiding in the hay loft? Come on!”
“It’s only setting the scene,” Shuu retorted, folding her arms in a fashion Rave found to be far too sulky for an eighteen year-old girl. “It’s gonna improve later!”
“A bad start is enough to put publishers, reviewers and readers off,” her friend replied simply. “Besides, gay cowboys? Come on!”
“Ah hah!” Shuu exclaimed triumphantly, wagging a finger at Rave. “Gay cowboys are hot at the moment! I’m targeting a market niche that’s growing as more people are exposed to it!”
“I can tell you now, even if I were gay, nothing’d be growing over here, reading that.”
The girl’s face became sympathetic. “Yeah, you might wanna see a doctor about that problem.”
“Here’s a line for your book – ‘Screw you and the horse you rode in on.’”
“Hey, not bad!” Shuu exclaimed brightly, grabbing a notepad and scribbling the line down in it. “You’ve got a real talent for this, you know that?”
Rave sighed in irritation, and silently wondered if the poor girl had ever come across irony before. That said, fangirls seemed to be able to deflect just about any criticism that came their way – it was like they actually lived in those lovely little universes they created.
“So come on, what about that line?”
“Huh?”
Shuu briefly raised her arms skyward in exasperation, before dropping them into her lap. “If you were about to confess your undying love to a boy, what would you say? I need that line so that I can get onto the good stuff!”
“…are you writing a romance novel or a porn script?”
Shuu paused, gazing thoughtfully at her ceiling. “Both, I guess,” she admitted. “Like I said, I’m targeting a niche market!”
“…we’re done here.”
“Come on, I need that line!”
“No.”
“You must’ve thought of it at some point!”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“No. Now come on, or we’re gonna be late meeting the others.”
Even as Shuu dumped her notepad into her bag and slung it over her shoulder, she persisted. “What if you did think about it?”
“I’d be violently ill.”
“Use your imagination!”
“I’d rather not.”
“Prude!”
“Perv.”
Shuu opened the front door and let Rave out, before slamming it behind her and running to catch him up. “I’ll give you ten percent of the profit!”
“I don’t want to be associated with gay cowboy porn.”
“What about publishing under an innuendo?”
“You mean pseudonym, idiot.”
Again, the criticism seemed to just bounce off Shuu’s invisible steel shell and travel away into the heavens. Rave couldn’t help but marvel at the idea that, if his friend’s work ever did get published, she might be the first writer ever to genuinely not be affected by what the critics said. Which would be just as well, considering that they’d probably have a lot to say.
“So where are we meeting them?”
Rave unlocked his car and gestured for Shuu to take the passenger seat. “Cinema – don’t know if we’re staying there or moving on though.”
Shuu nodded at this, reaching over to grab her seatbelt, before pausing as a thought struck her. “I wonder if they’re still showing Brokeback Mountain…?”
Theme: The Wild West
Genre: Humour
Rating: 12A
Feedback: Yes, public
Warnings: Some bad language
Notes: Not really a proper story this time either (more of a vignette, or maybe even just a snippet), but it introduces my second original character – everyone, say hi to Shuu!
Try Again
The stable-boy winced as McCane leaned too close to him for comfort, the smell of cigar smoke and cheap whiskey on the gunslinger’s breath making the boy feel ill. Taking a step away from the older man, praying he’d not invade his personal bubble again, Jonas managed to force out, “I’m afraid there aren’t any horses available right now, sir.”
“Ah’m afraid that ain’t the answer ah was looking for,” McCane slurred, a leer on his lips. “An’ when ah don’t get the answer ah’m lookin’ for, people are prone to get hurt, ayuh…”
“I-I’m sorry, sir,” Jonas uttered in reply, taking an extra step away from McCane and trying not to look at the guns on his hips. “But we really don’t have anything available. If you’d like, you can wait until there’s another-”
Jonas yelped in fear as an empty whiskey bottle crashed into the wall beside his head, exploding and sending showers of glass everywhere.
“That still ain’t the answer ah’m lookin’ for, kid…” McCane drawled. “So ah’ll ask ya once more – do ya have any hosses for me to hire?”
“Uh-uhm, well, w-we might have some soon, i-if you’ll just-”
This time, Jonas found himself cut off by McCane’s fist, the gloved appendage smashing into his cheek and sending a blinding pain through Jonas’s face. The boy gave a cry as he rocked back against the wall, holding the bruise that was already forming where the drunkard had struck him.
“That ain’t the answer ah was lookin’ for,” McCane repeated again. “P’raps ah should teach ya some manners…”
The scene was interrupted as a bullet rang out, and in the next instant, McCane was on the floor, clutching at his now-bleeding foot. ”Shit, ya fuckin’ bastard, who the fuck-?”
The drunkard was silenced as a boot struck him clean in the temple, knocking him out cold. Without wasting a moment, Jonas’s rescuer grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the stable. “We’d better get going before someone comes investigating that shot!” he cried.
As the two boys took off down the street, Jonas struggling to keep up with his friend, he couldn’t help a breathless laugh. “Thanks, Hick,” he offered gratefully, before stumbling and just catching his footing again. “I owe ya!”
A grin graced his friend’s face. “No problem… pard’ner.”
The two kept running until they came to the farm Hick’s parents owned, where they took refuge in the hay barn. “I guess McCane won’t come looking here, huh?” Jonas remarked, panting as he caught his breath back.
“Ayuh,” Hick replied.
The two sat in silence in the hay after that, both boys getting their breathing back to normal. After a while, though. Jonas spoke up again.
“Hey, Hick,” he began. “How’d you know what was happening?”
“I was… I was watching you…” the slight elder of the two admitted. “Soon as I figured it out, I came for ya.”
“But weren’t you supposed to be working out here?” Jonas asked. “How come you were all the way down in town?”
“Well, I… Look, Jonas, there’s somethin’ ah gotta tell ya.”
“Oh?”
Hick cleared his throat nervously, before shuffling a couple of inches closer to his long-time friend. “Ah wanted to say this a while now, but ah never knew how. Ah guess ah’m jus’ gonna come out an’ say it…”
Jonas said nothing, but merely urged his friend on with a curious look in his eyes.
“Jonas, I… I-”
“-And I have no idea how he should say it!” Shuu wailed, flopping dramatically into the chair she’d been perched on the arm of. “I swear, the universe hates me!”
Rave set down the proto-novel Shuu had handed him, and fixed her with a serious look. “You know what? This wouldn’t normally be the case, but I agree entirely. The universe must really hate you-”
“I know! It’s like-”
“-to have made you so keen to be a writer, yet given you such little talent.”
“WHAT?!”
Rave cowered behind his arms as Shuu launched a cushion at him indignantly. “Hey, I’m just saying!” he protested. “I mean, look at it – how many clichés do you want to fit into it? The phrases, the accents – Hick apparently can’t decide what his is, by the way – the drunken bad guy, hiding in the hay loft? Come on!”
“It’s only setting the scene,” Shuu retorted, folding her arms in a fashion Rave found to be far too sulky for an eighteen year-old girl. “It’s gonna improve later!”
“A bad start is enough to put publishers, reviewers and readers off,” her friend replied simply. “Besides, gay cowboys? Come on!”
“Ah hah!” Shuu exclaimed triumphantly, wagging a finger at Rave. “Gay cowboys are hot at the moment! I’m targeting a market niche that’s growing as more people are exposed to it!”
“I can tell you now, even if I were gay, nothing’d be growing over here, reading that.”
The girl’s face became sympathetic. “Yeah, you might wanna see a doctor about that problem.”
“Here’s a line for your book – ‘Screw you and the horse you rode in on.’”
“Hey, not bad!” Shuu exclaimed brightly, grabbing a notepad and scribbling the line down in it. “You’ve got a real talent for this, you know that?”
Rave sighed in irritation, and silently wondered if the poor girl had ever come across irony before. That said, fangirls seemed to be able to deflect just about any criticism that came their way – it was like they actually lived in those lovely little universes they created.
“So come on, what about that line?”
“Huh?”
Shuu briefly raised her arms skyward in exasperation, before dropping them into her lap. “If you were about to confess your undying love to a boy, what would you say? I need that line so that I can get onto the good stuff!”
“…are you writing a romance novel or a porn script?”
Shuu paused, gazing thoughtfully at her ceiling. “Both, I guess,” she admitted. “Like I said, I’m targeting a niche market!”
“…we’re done here.”
“Come on, I need that line!”
“No.”
“You must’ve thought of it at some point!”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“No. Now come on, or we’re gonna be late meeting the others.”
Even as Shuu dumped her notepad into her bag and slung it over her shoulder, she persisted. “What if you did think about it?”
“I’d be violently ill.”
“Use your imagination!”
“I’d rather not.”
“Prude!”
“Perv.”
Shuu opened the front door and let Rave out, before slamming it behind her and running to catch him up. “I’ll give you ten percent of the profit!”
“I don’t want to be associated with gay cowboy porn.”
“What about publishing under an innuendo?”
“You mean pseudonym, idiot.”
Again, the criticism seemed to just bounce off Shuu’s invisible steel shell and travel away into the heavens. Rave couldn’t help but marvel at the idea that, if his friend’s work ever did get published, she might be the first writer ever to genuinely not be affected by what the critics said. Which would be just as well, considering that they’d probably have a lot to say.
“So where are we meeting them?”
Rave unlocked his car and gestured for Shuu to take the passenger seat. “Cinema – don’t know if we’re staying there or moving on though.”
Shuu nodded at this, reaching over to grab her seatbelt, before pausing as a thought struck her. “I wonder if they’re still showing Brokeback Mountain…?”
Nicely done, the poor quality western which then turns out to be someone else's half-assed attempt, drawn in by that! Rave is cool, happily drink with that dude.... 
Got to admit, I've grown an instant liking to Shuu too - she's gonna be fun! ;D
