7 years ago
This is a piece of literature I am writing for an English class but I would be interested in knowing what you guys think, This is only one chapter so far. Enjoy!
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Good evening Ronny.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Evenin' mister Syre, sir.Ã¢â‚¬Â
The prisoner stands hunched at the doorway of my office in C Block, Grey Mill penitentiary, bloodshot eyes darting around the familiar setting before settling on the dark haired, spectacled individual sitting on a dark leather armchair in the corner of the room.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Please, sit down,Ã¢â‚¬Â I lean forwards and pick up a case file from the coffee table positioned between the armchair and the couch Ronald Pierson just settled himself into. Ã¢â‚¬Å“Now I hear you've been starting a few fights recently Ronny,Ã¢â‚¬Â I say as I study the case file.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes'm mister Syre, sir. I don' mean to but the guys jus' keep making me so angry, y'know?Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“How do they make you angry?Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“They say things, they know what I done.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Now you know as well as I do, Ronny, that no-one apart from you, the parole board and I know what you did before you came here.Ã¢â‚¬Â
He jerks in his seat slightly and his fists clench for a split second. Ã¢â‚¬Å“But they say they know, mister Syre, sir. They say they know I eated those little kiddies. They say I is a monster an' they make howling noises at nights in the cells an' I just can' take it an' I just wanna hurt 'em so bad...Ã¢â‚¬Â His fists clench tighter this time, thumping down on the soft leather of the couch, he closes his eyes and drops his head towards the ground.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay, Ronny, come back to me, it's all okay, we'll get it sorted-Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ronny, shaking slightly, raised his head again and stared unblinkingly into my eyes, Ã¢â‚¬Å“Mister Syre, sir, can I ask you something?Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes, of course. I'm always open to questions.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“The guys, they also told me you've been having problems. Problems with missus Syre.Ã¢â‚¬Â
I looked at Ronny over the top of my spectacles, piercing green eyes burning into him, Ã¢â‚¬Å“What's it to you?Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Just wondering, mister Syre, sir.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well next time keep your...wondering to yourself.Ã¢â‚¬Â I look up at the clock ticking away beside the bookcase. Ã¢â‚¬Å“Your session is over, get back to your cell.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ronny glanced at the clock as well. Ã¢â‚¬Å“But there's still 20 minutes left-Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don't care, to your cell, now!Ã¢â‚¬Â
I stand up and knock on the door, it opens and two burly prison guards in uniform step in, grasping each side of Ronny and dragging him out the door and down the cold stone corridor.
* * *
A key is inserted into a lock. There is a click as the door is unlocked and the handle is pushed down by the person on the other side.
Laura's eyes snap open as the familiar creak of the front door creeps up the stairs...
I shake off the light covering of rain on my coat and remove my shoes, placing them beside the door, next to my wife, Laura's, expensive black high heeled shoes that I bought her the year before for her birthday. I remove my coat and place it on the coat rack above the shoes and stop.
I look down again.
Three pairs of shoes?
There are never more than two at the front door unless we have a visitor, which is a rare occurrence; and no-one I know wears brilliant white boots, shining like the light from heaven.
Well, except for...
No, it couldn't be, he's never visited before. Or at least not when I've been around.
The patter of feet above me. The low thump of a cupboard door closing.
Ronny's words drift through my head, Ã¢â‚¬Å“They also told me you've been having problems. Problems with missus Syre.Ã¢â‚¬Â It couldn't be that, it's obviously something else.
I call up the stairs and begin to climb them, the dread of finding Laura with another man, held hostage or maybe even dead growing deeper every step.
I reach the landing and push open the bedroom door, Laura is sitting upright in the bed reading a book, trying to cover her blushed face; she is breathing quickly. She is huddled on one side of the bed yet the rest is crumpled as if someone departed from beneath the duvet in a hurry.
She looks up from her book Ã¢â‚¬" an old edition of Pride and Prejudice that she had bought at a church fairÃ¢â‚¬" when I enter the room, Ã¢â‚¬Å“Evening honey,Ã¢â‚¬Â she gasps between her heavy breaths.
Laura's clothes are strewn across the room and my eye settles upon a sock. One sock lying in the centre of the room. A single, black sock that was definitely not one of hers nor mine...
A cough from the large wooden cupboard to the left of the door.
Laura's expression turns from mild surprise to sheer panic and leaps out of the bed, skillfully taking the sheet with her to spare unwanted embarrassment Ã¢â‚¬" which I find rather unusual as she is my wife but I glaze over the fact, I am too preoccupied with the cupboard and its mysterious inhabitant.
Laura stops between me and the cupboard, her face a dark shade of maroon, her breath coming shallow and fast, Ã¢â‚¬Å“Ignore it David, I'm sure it was just a mouse.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Unless mouses get very nasty colds I doubt it, now move,Ã¢â‚¬Â I push her gently out of the way and continue towards the cupboard.
I pull the door open hard enough to nearly cause it to fly off its hinges and uncover the coughing cupboard culprit.
My mouth drops open in complete shock and bewilderment, Ã¢â‚¬Å“What Ã¢â‚¬" the Ã¢â‚¬" hell?Ã¢â‚¬Â
Crouched in the corner of the cupboard clinging on to all his clothing apart from one black sock was Dr. Christopher McRae of Grey Mill penitentiary.
He smiles cheerfully up at me, a glint of fear in his eyes,Ã¢â‚¬Å“Good evening, Dr. Syre, what a pleasant surprise. We didn't expect you home for another few hours.Ã¢â‚¬Â
My eyes pierce his skin like the fires of hell, a fury like no other fills inside my chest, Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry, did I interrupt your evening? Please, continue.Ã¢â‚¬Â I step to the side of the cupboard and gesture for him to exit the cupboard.
7 years ago
The rest of my english piece.
The fear vanishes from his eyes and he stands, stepping out, Ã¢â‚¬Å“I'm so glad you understand, David. We really didn't mean for you to see us like this. This is all obviously one big misunderst-Ã¢â‚¬Â
My fist flies into his face, throwing him backwards into the cupboard again, there is a crack as the back smashes from McRae's weight crashing into it.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Get the hell out of my house!Ã¢â‚¬Â
McRae pulls himself from under a mountain of clothing and wood splinters, blotting his bleeding nose with a shirt sleeve. He stands straight in front of me, his forehead just reaching my stubble chin, and looks up into my eyes with concealed hatred, Ã¢â‚¬Å“Now I'm sure we can sort this out like proper gentlemen...Ã¢â‚¬Â
A further fist to the side of his head, persuades McRae to leave the room and he hobbles down the stairs, pulling his vibrant white shoes onto his feet. He opens the door and turns back towards me standing half way down the stairs, Laura is clearing the mess in the bedroom, Ã¢â‚¬Å“One more thing, Syre. I'm taking over Ronny's case, you don't seem to be getting anywhere with him. Good Night,Ã¢â‚¬Â he exits the house and makes his way down the driveway, shivering from the night air; he was wearing nothing apart from a vibrant green pair of loose boxer shorts.
I stride down the stairs three at a time and out the front door, everything I see is a blood red haze. I snatch up a stone gnome from the patio and without hesitation smash it against the side of Dr. Christopher McRae's head.
He sways for a few seconds before crumpling to the ground. I unlock the car , drag his limp body over to it, open the boot and throw him in. My body is on complete auto-pilot. Everything is being done by some strange force, pushing my limbs this way and that while I watch from a far away vantage point.
I climb into the driver's seat of the car and drive away, so wrapped up in the recent event to notice the slight movement of the curtains in the upstairs bedroom window of the house.
7 years ago
Thanks to ShirtGuyDom for giving me this brilliant idea after he posted a blog on his ideas of a dream video game idea. I will now mimic his idea by posting my own dream video game.
Now, like Shirt, I am a huge fan of the open world/free roam genre yet feel, due to lack of current hardware capabilities and the need for a lineal plot line in the games, these so called "free roam" games are merely a linear game with the added option of making your own way about the vast expanse of world to explore.
Although traipsing through jungle and speeding across desert gives a feeling of slight freedom, you never have any true objective, you are merely visiting additional places created by the programmer just to muck about and have a laugh.
My idea would involve removing almost all forms of linear gameplay elements and leaving the player to their own devices.
Imagine a virtual Earth where you can visit any country, any city and apply for any job you wish; let it be an office drone, a professional skateboarder, an assassin or president of the united states.
Taking the idea from the soon-to-be-released Fallout 3, you begin as a baby, creating what your character will look like throughout his/her life, what their personality will be like and their name. Other things such as where they are brought up and how wealthy/poor their family is is chosen by the console its self.
You then move to growing up, beginning by crawling about, playing with toys, then you move to school, where it is possible to begin long term friendships with a diverse group of characters. The school is in 4 parts, Nursery/Kindergarden, Primary/Elementary, High School and College/University.
Each school stage involves a series of tasks that must be fulfilled by the character, be it in nursery to draw a crayon picture using the analogue stick, completing an exam in high school or taking part in the school relay race; all of these tasks will eventually calculate what your character could do when they are older.
The school stage is effectively a glorified selection process for what would usually be, in games such as The Sims just a matter of clicking a series of sliders choosing the character's intelligence, stamina etc.
From the "Education" stage you move into the main game where you begin in your randomly chosen country with a bare flat, your qualifications and a college fee.
This is where the real fun begins.
The choices you can make are so diverse and so many that it would take 3 blog posts to list the numerous ideas I already have, so instead i will just play out a possible life of a character.
Lets start in...France. You begin as the son/daughter of a small time wine merchant in a small villiage in Southern France. You can go anywhere you want in the battered Renault Scenic your father has given you as a leaving present. There is only a limited amount of fuel and you don't have much money so the best thing to do will be to make your way to a city. So you plonk yourself in the car, which, has a handy sat nav installed, this will serve as your road guide for the game. This would not be a HUD but would actually be placed on the dashboard and would be viewed by pressing a certain button.
The sat nav not only works as a road map but also as an almost portal system, you can plot journeys to specific destinations within the distance of your current amount of fuel. Once the journey has been plotted it is possible to drive it yourself, let the car drive automatically, or to skip the entire journey altogether.
So lets say I have made my way to Marseille, I can now park my car in the city and have a wander about...
Now the largest problem with free roam games for me is the inability to enter every structure, although this would be extremely difficult it would still be a good thing to have; but not all the doors would be unlocked, houses and warehouses would be locked by the owners but it would be possible to access the areas by breaking a window or picking the lock after learning the necessary skills.
So I've made my way into a newsagents and make my way over to the counter. I press the appropriate button to speak with the character and have a choice of answers, but not your usual 3 or 4. The answers are split into catergories and count up to over 50 different replies to the person you are conversing with.
I ask for a job and hand over my credentials. The person accepts and I am given an identification card for the store.
Just a quickie about jobs. It is not only possible to get a job by asking a clerk or shop owner. You can also find jobs on billboards, in newspapers and on the internet in the game.
They range from pretty much anything you can imagine within reason, obviously nothing like a time traveller or anything, this is set in a sudo-realistic world set some years into the near future but nothing sci-fi is included.
God, this is gonna be long winded, bear with me, i have a lot of ideas to write down and quite a few might not make sense but they do to me.
Part 2 coming soon...
Yo dudes. My name's Ben and I live in Edinburgh in Scotland, the greatest province of the greatest country in the universe. I am the Co-Director, Animator, Finacial Supervisor, Script Writer and Producer of and amateur film company called Driftwood Studios. Check it out at www.driftwood-studios.tk.
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