(no subject)
5. Samples
First-Person: (5-10 sentences)
If I have been diverted here for a reason, tell me now.
Otherwise, stay out of my way. I have much to accomplish and very little time to do it in. I will warn you now. I don't take kindly to those who hinder my efforts. Do not force my hand.
Third-Person: (200 words minimum)
Damn him for forcing him into this position. Damn him for sending him to stop him. Damn him for ruining her dream. Damn that man. Zero. The root of all his problems. Damn him.
John couldn't let this boy stop him now. Even as his Metal Gear lay in ruin. His goal was too important to let it bet taken from him yet again. That cowardly bastard sent in one of John's own 'children' to take him down, again. If he thought any attachment to the solider he trained was going to stop him, he was dead wrong. He could see what he was trying to do, to make a mockery of John's pain. The bastard trying to mold a soldier in John's image, one he could control. That's how it is then? Can't control the man so you make yourself a copy. He had the greatest respect for his former pupil. He never wanted to face him in battle, but he knew the day would come so long as Zero still lived. Twice now, he has send his own 'son' to destroy him. Psychological warfare. A slap in the face. John channeled his outrage and took aim.
He felt almost proud as the man expertly dodged his attack. He did train him well and the boy continued to learn. It was a shame he was being used as a pawn in a shadow war. And he followed his orders like a good little soldier. Couldn't he see that this was just what John was trying to prevent? Soldiers forced to fight in wars that weren't even theirs.
The next few exchanges with his former pupil went as expected. The boy was adept at avoiding enemy fire. Such a skill is hard to master. John knew he was unarmed but he also knew that by no means made him any less deadly. He would try to complete his mission using whatever means necessary, just as John would.
A glint of something shiny caught his eye. He turned in time to see a column of flame extending toward him. That sneaky little--
The world swirled around him. He found himself on a road in the middle of a vast expanse. His coat, still smoking and singed from the attack. John glanced ahead to see a city in the distance. “Hm,” his eye narrowed. This... was not was he expected. He doubted the afterlife was something of this nature. He idly patted out the fire from his coat then strode onward. He did not appear to be dead. Whatever happened.... gave him a new chance at his goal. One he was not going to take for granted.
446
Third-Person #2: (200 words minimum) This sample should be rated R to NC-17, and be erotically-focused. It does not have to be explicit smut.
It was the here and now that got his blood pumping. Where he felt the build up. The excitement. The rush. They said... that's what makes you addicted to the battlefield. He was man enough now to admit that much. He took no joy in killing. He took joy in the act of war. The act of fighting. The act of struggle.
There was no greater struggle than this. He shed his heavy coat and picked a knife. He settled into his old familiar stance of combat.
His first attacker came in fast. John sidestepped and brought the butt of his knife down against the man's skull. No time to see where he fell, the blood was pumping now. His next attacker came from behind with a machete. In a swift turn he blocked the weapon with his forearm, the blade bit through skin then stopped abruptly with a 'ching!' when it hit the metal inner working of his arm.
And John smiled, “Yes, that's it. Don't hold back.” He barely registered the pain where blade cut skin but it was enough. Enough to feel the thrill run right through him. Yes... hang onto that feeling. Let it build.
A new attacker managed a body blow with a length of wood. This send John staggering back. The machete dislodged from his arm as he did. The new rush of pain... right where he was still human. Such feeling. He felt alive again. A smile crossed his lips, “That's right. Good. Good.”
John surged forth and grabbed the nearest of the two, with a heave he sent him flying at the other... the man with the board. They fell with a glorious sound of clashing bodies.
Just in time, his first attacker attempted a CGC grab from behind. While John was seemingly distracted not less. Admirable. John easily reversed the hold and sent the man crashing to the ground. John came down bodily with a knee to the man's gut. The horse gasping that ensued was strangely satisfying. Almost... musical. It was now that John felt truly alive again. Such tremendous gratification at the smallest triumph. He was hyper aware of every inch of his own body and even that of the dispatched soldier beneath him. Even the two others that still laid sprawled a short distance away.
He took a moment to savor the feeling. He knew all to well how short lived it could be.
408
First-Person: (5-10 sentences)
If I have been diverted here for a reason, tell me now.
Otherwise, stay out of my way. I have much to accomplish and very little time to do it in. I will warn you now. I don't take kindly to those who hinder my efforts. Do not force my hand.
Third-Person: (200 words minimum)
Damn him for forcing him into this position. Damn him for sending him to stop him. Damn him for ruining her dream. Damn that man. Zero. The root of all his problems. Damn him.
John couldn't let this boy stop him now. Even as his Metal Gear lay in ruin. His goal was too important to let it bet taken from him yet again. That cowardly bastard sent in one of John's own 'children' to take him down, again. If he thought any attachment to the solider he trained was going to stop him, he was dead wrong. He could see what he was trying to do, to make a mockery of John's pain. The bastard trying to mold a soldier in John's image, one he could control. That's how it is then? Can't control the man so you make yourself a copy. He had the greatest respect for his former pupil. He never wanted to face him in battle, but he knew the day would come so long as Zero still lived. Twice now, he has send his own 'son' to destroy him. Psychological warfare. A slap in the face. John channeled his outrage and took aim.
He felt almost proud as the man expertly dodged his attack. He did train him well and the boy continued to learn. It was a shame he was being used as a pawn in a shadow war. And he followed his orders like a good little soldier. Couldn't he see that this was just what John was trying to prevent? Soldiers forced to fight in wars that weren't even theirs.
The next few exchanges with his former pupil went as expected. The boy was adept at avoiding enemy fire. Such a skill is hard to master. John knew he was unarmed but he also knew that by no means made him any less deadly. He would try to complete his mission using whatever means necessary, just as John would.
A glint of something shiny caught his eye. He turned in time to see a column of flame extending toward him. That sneaky little--
The world swirled around him. He found himself on a road in the middle of a vast expanse. His coat, still smoking and singed from the attack. John glanced ahead to see a city in the distance. “Hm,” his eye narrowed. This... was not was he expected. He doubted the afterlife was something of this nature. He idly patted out the fire from his coat then strode onward. He did not appear to be dead. Whatever happened.... gave him a new chance at his goal. One he was not going to take for granted.
446
Third-Person #2: (200 words minimum) This sample should be rated R to NC-17, and be erotically-focused. It does not have to be explicit smut.
It was the here and now that got his blood pumping. Where he felt the build up. The excitement. The rush. They said... that's what makes you addicted to the battlefield. He was man enough now to admit that much. He took no joy in killing. He took joy in the act of war. The act of fighting. The act of struggle.
There was no greater struggle than this. He shed his heavy coat and picked a knife. He settled into his old familiar stance of combat.
His first attacker came in fast. John sidestepped and brought the butt of his knife down against the man's skull. No time to see where he fell, the blood was pumping now. His next attacker came from behind with a machete. In a swift turn he blocked the weapon with his forearm, the blade bit through skin then stopped abruptly with a 'ching!' when it hit the metal inner working of his arm.
And John smiled, “Yes, that's it. Don't hold back.” He barely registered the pain where blade cut skin but it was enough. Enough to feel the thrill run right through him. Yes... hang onto that feeling. Let it build.
A new attacker managed a body blow with a length of wood. This send John staggering back. The machete dislodged from his arm as he did. The new rush of pain... right where he was still human. Such feeling. He felt alive again. A smile crossed his lips, “That's right. Good. Good.”
John surged forth and grabbed the nearest of the two, with a heave he sent him flying at the other... the man with the board. They fell with a glorious sound of clashing bodies.
Just in time, his first attacker attempted a CGC grab from behind. While John was seemingly distracted not less. Admirable. John easily reversed the hold and sent the man crashing to the ground. John came down bodily with a knee to the man's gut. The horse gasping that ensued was strangely satisfying. Almost... musical. It was now that John felt truly alive again. Such tremendous gratification at the smallest triumph. He was hyper aware of every inch of his own body and even that of the dispatched soldier beneath him. Even the two others that still laid sprawled a short distance away.
He took a moment to savor the feeling. He knew all to well how short lived it could be.
408