So, first off, I've decided that I want to present Seek in third person. This is for a number of reasons, but in short, I think it will force me to get better at dialogue, and that's something I really need to work on.
The new setting (only slightly new) is that of a corporate metropolis. Essentially, corporations their own nation-states.
"Jonah, this isn't child's play," Simeon said.
"I'm done."
"You can't just be done. This isn't some game you can play."
"You know, I don't think you're really the one to be talking to me about games. You've been playing Jael the whole time. You've been using me to do your dirty work while you've been thinking up more ways to kill people."
"Kid, I can't answer for my past, but this is something bigger than you and me, and you've gotta get over yourself if we're going to try to make things right."
"I already told you, I'm not going. I won't be a part of it."
Simeon storms off
Kara enters
"I overheard your conversation from the hall."
"Yeah, how 'bout that? He's got some gall, doesn't he, coming in here like that?"
"Jonah, I'm actually with him on this one..."
"Oh yeah, I'm sure you--"
"--I'm not kidding. I think he's right."
"Well this I don't understand then. I don't get how after everything you've seen--after Shibboleth and the caravans and Secra--"
"You--leave--Secra--out of this. You have no right--"
"After everything you've seen, you still want more death, more violence."
"That's not true. I don't know how you can be so blind sometimes. All this talk of the ideal world and philosophy and paradise, and still you don't understand--won't understand. You still can't see that Khaios and Rai are opposites, that while Khaios stands, there can never be a Rai--not in Secra, not in Shibboleth, nowhere! How many cities have to burn before you see that? /How many people have to die--" She broke into a sob, and Jonah rushed forward, putting his arms around her as she cried. (Jael was killed in the attack)
"Kar... I'm sorry. I guess I didn't really think about it that way. I guess I didn't want to think about that it way..."
-----------------------------
Strangers to ourselves again
Living out these summer nights in solitude and silence
*Writers, artists, sculptors working ot rediscover the old truths--the symbols, the watchwords, the tokens, the unities
Runes, gestures, watchwords
To love is to feel as though we are giving away nothing when in fact we have put aside all else for the one within our heart.
War is the child of fear. Everyone is secretly a coward.
Forests shrouded in memory
The quiet of snowfall
Kids' river stones = jewels and quartz
Clay swallows' nests
Sand to glass because of fires--shards of sunlight shimmering in the sand.
Flesh has little argument against an iron blade
Staves, scepters, amulets, etc. --> Simeon decides gloves are cooler
Lights in abandoned skyscrapers
City like a charcoal drawing sketched across the horizon
Dreams that call you from your solitude, back to the bourne of infinity and oblivion
Lost/forgotten sun
Sparks rush upward into the endless night and fade into the darkness
"The ones who knew God have fled."
Ash flowing through the furrows on the wind
*Bathe in the river and dress in new garments, wash off his old self, old ways
--He cupped the cold water and laved it onto his body to try to acclimatize himself to the chill
--Robed in nothing but the warm breeze
One step at a time in the dark until you see the light
perfect night
Sand racing the wind as it rushed by them, off into the blinding sky
A moon hidden somewhere beyond the clouds
Beach at night, black swells; a fine mist rolling across the blackness.
Simeon doesn't die? Jonah gone now?
Telling it in the future: And then his eyes will grow large, and the girl will gasp, then I will (use technis arm to blow up reactor/whatever). And then I will lay down and rest with the Founders, my knowledge and their buried at last.
War chooses us / Love chooses us / Life chooses some.
So far away, so long ago, that it might have been a drea.
How can the world ever change/be renewed if we do not question it, if we are enamored with it as it is now?
World erased in the white of a winter's night
Coaxing gargoyles from granite stones
*Finding our stories
*Dream: running through a golden field, something calling. A flash of red between the tress and then footsteps pounding off into the jungle. Chase. A laugh up ahead, and for some reason I thought of Kara, and then there was a feather on the path--a crimson feather that turned silver-gray before his eyes.
The longing of youth.
The new setting (only slightly new) is that of a corporate metropolis. Essentially, corporations their own nation-states.
"Jonah, this isn't child's play," Simeon said.
"I'm done."
"You can't just be done. This isn't some game you can play."
"You know, I don't think you're really the one to be talking to me about games. You've been playing Jael the whole time. You've been using me to do your dirty work while you've been thinking up more ways to kill people."
"Kid, I can't answer for my past, but this is something bigger than you and me, and you've gotta get over yourself if we're going to try to make things right."
"I already told you, I'm not going. I won't be a part of it."
Simeon storms off
Kara enters
"I overheard your conversation from the hall."
"Yeah, how 'bout that? He's got some gall, doesn't he, coming in here like that?"
"Jonah, I'm actually with him on this one..."
"Oh yeah, I'm sure you--"
"--I'm not kidding. I think he's right."
"Well this I don't understand then. I don't get how after everything you've seen--after Shibboleth and the caravans and Secra--"
"You--leave--Secra--out of this. You have no right--"
"After everything you've seen, you still want more death, more violence."
"That's not true. I don't know how you can be so blind sometimes. All this talk of the ideal world and philosophy and paradise, and still you don't understand--won't understand. You still can't see that Khaios and Rai are opposites, that while Khaios stands, there can never be a Rai--not in Secra, not in Shibboleth, nowhere! How many cities have to burn before you see that? /How many people have to die--" She broke into a sob, and Jonah rushed forward, putting his arms around her as she cried. (Jael was killed in the attack)
"Kar... I'm sorry. I guess I didn't really think about it that way. I guess I didn't want to think about that it way..."
-----------------------------
Strangers to ourselves again
Living out these summer nights in solitude and silence
*Writers, artists, sculptors working ot rediscover the old truths--the symbols, the watchwords, the tokens, the unities
Runes, gestures, watchwords
To love is to feel as though we are giving away nothing when in fact we have put aside all else for the one within our heart.
War is the child of fear. Everyone is secretly a coward.
Forests shrouded in memory
The quiet of snowfall
Kids' river stones = jewels and quartz
Clay swallows' nests
Sand to glass because of fires--shards of sunlight shimmering in the sand.
Flesh has little argument against an iron blade
Staves, scepters, amulets, etc. --> Simeon decides gloves are cooler
Lights in abandoned skyscrapers
City like a charcoal drawing sketched across the horizon
Dreams that call you from your solitude, back to the bourne of infinity and oblivion
Lost/forgotten sun
Sparks rush upward into the endless night and fade into the darkness
"The ones who knew God have fled."
Ash flowing through the furrows on the wind
*Bathe in the river and dress in new garments, wash off his old self, old ways
--He cupped the cold water and laved it onto his body to try to acclimatize himself to the chill
--Robed in nothing but the warm breeze
One step at a time in the dark until you see the light
perfect night
Sand racing the wind as it rushed by them, off into the blinding sky
A moon hidden somewhere beyond the clouds
Beach at night, black swells; a fine mist rolling across the blackness.
Simeon doesn't die? Jonah gone now?
Telling it in the future: And then his eyes will grow large, and the girl will gasp, then I will (use technis arm to blow up reactor/whatever). And then I will lay down and rest with the Founders, my knowledge and their buried at last.
War chooses us / Love chooses us / Life chooses some.
So far away, so long ago, that it might have been a drea.
How can the world ever change/be renewed if we do not question it, if we are enamored with it as it is now?
World erased in the white of a winter's night
Coaxing gargoyles from granite stones
*Finding our stories
*Dream: running through a golden field, something calling. A flash of red between the tress and then footsteps pounding off into the jungle. Chase. A laugh up ahead, and for some reason I thought of Kara, and then there was a feather on the path--a crimson feather that turned silver-gray before his eyes.
The longing of youth.
No comments:
Post a Comment