The Character Sketch: A Challenge

My turn... Although I think everyone like forgot about this thread... so sad. Come back! Ok n wayz...Wahoo!

And inspiration finally hits! Well actually hit, but with some revisions.

This was actually part? well still is part? of a prologue for one of my stories and I thought it fit quite well to someone else with a few minor adjustment seeing as this person isn?t an alien. It's kinda short I know, but oh well.

________

Darkened Storm

Lightening lit up the pitch-black room as the thunder rumbles menacingly loud overhead. Jades of water streaked down the two windows forming a gentle waterfall in the midst of the chaotic storm. The rain patted loudly on the roof of the apartment drowning out the creek made on the floor from a light footstep.

A streak of light once again made daytime at night a lit up the room; reflecting on two blue beady eyes. The boy?s look hadn?t changed much. He still wore the old leather tunic only now black gloves covering a golden hand was added to his appearance. His eyes still held a fire of hate. His lips still curled into an evil grin and his laugh still chilled anyone unfortunate enough to hear it race through the air. His responses were still quick and harsh. His feelings still cold. His hear still black and his revenge still fresh in his mind.

Long slender figures covered by tight soft leather reached out towards the small box sitting atop the table in front of the two windows that have a spectacular view of the raging storm. The small silver key reflected the anger being released from the dark clouds hidden by the blanket of night, as crazy as the person who held the small trinket. A slow turn and a click told the young man that for the first time in five years his most prized possession had been opened. Five long years, so worth the wait.

Reaching in slowly and pulling out the long silver object inside the boy let out a low laugh that filled the grand apartment he shared with his wife. The silver cylinder in his hands glinted the lightening dancing across the sky as it was turned slowly. Every dent, scratch, burn, warn spot was being inspected with a dead blue gaze. A long slightly trembling finger made it?s way from the bottom of the weapon to the top, stopping and hesitating over the small silver button. It was so tempting to push the small button to see the bright green glow illuminate the night from his old, long gone friend?s saber. To be reminded that the brightness was the same as his friends smile, personality. As bright as his glow for life.

Shaking his head the young man laughed callously. He had been waiting so long for this moment and yet it didn?t feel right. All his planning seemed to be short, not good enough. It would be the worst. Death. Every one of them would die for his revenge. He was no longer a kid scheming up lame ways to get back at people for enslaving others, but instead he was a grown man making up the worst he could cook up. The one way to get rid of the ones who betrayed him. The ones who would die. The Jedi. What he wasn?t anymore.

Clipping the ancient weapon to his belt the boy unconscious smiled at the thought of his old friend. Who now seemed to be his only friend. Long dead from what he was. A sith. He had walked out on his Master, breaking the man?s heart. He had killed his friends. Destroyed what he lived for. Chocked the Force around him with darkness.

The forgotten storm made itself known again as the apartment shook with a tremendous clap of thunder. Unsteady hesitant footsteps creaked the floor behind the guy. Turning around he stared at his beautiful wife. The one he left the Jedi for. A decision he has yet to regret.

Giving her a soft smile had nodded and walked from the home, out of the building, and out into the storm. Peering long over the horizon lightening lit up the gorgeous Temple that stood with serenity in the middle of everything.

Anakin Skywalker shook his head as he said goodbye to his home. To his friends, his everything he had grown up to know.

It would not be missed.

 

OH MY GOSH!!!!!!! DUDE!!!!!!

DON'T YOU EVER EVER EVER SAY THAT YOU CAN'T WRITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

I'll take that as a compliment...

And I didn't say that...about this particular piece of writing that is.

Till Later~
Siri

 

great idea, Musicalla: hope my contribution isn't out of place. I was supposed to be doing up a post for Last Chance, but what can I say, I was inspired...

*Derisa*

---

The night?s chill is at my back, while the suns rise in front of me, spreading light and heat across the sands at my feet, baking the possibility of life from this harsh place. I have never liked this world.

Too spare, too arid to host any but the meanest lifeforms, the Force feels far away here, I have to stretch to reach it. I have trekked the Dune Sea across three routes now, with no more sense of life than the first time. What once buoyed me up and carried me along like a leaf in the current is too far distant now to do me any good.

Yet that?s for the best, isn?t it? With the Force so distant, a faint hum I hear in my dreams, the visions are gone, too. I no longer have to see out of [i]his[/i] eyes the destruction he has wrought on the ancient Order we once belonged to. I no longer have to witness the Dark eating him alive, making a puppet of him, to perform unspeakable acts.

At least my discipline remains intact, and that gives me an edge against the primitive peoples that eke out a meagre living in the wasteland. The Sand People, with their tattered, bandaged faces: they fear me, walking the wilderness, unafraid, as I do. I pay their cruel gods no homage, and yet I am untouched. The Jawas I trade with, but they?ve seen my ilk before. I am not the first Old Man of the Desert, nor will I be the last, I am sure. It is the news they carry I find more of value than the shiny trinkets they delight in.

The dry wind tugs at my silvered hair, that once was a deep copper in hue. I am old, now, and in the cold nights of this Force-forsaken world, I feel it the most. The days I wander, shielded by a robe made heavy with sand, biding my time. The boy is safe from the Monster I helped make, and he waits too, all unknowing, of the fate that must await him. He must be the Son of the Suns, for surely the creature who sired him isn?t. The last hope of the Jedi, the *real* Chosen One.

You were wrong, my Master. That slave boy you brought back from this place was not destined to save us, but I have looked into eyes bluer and a heart more loving, and I know the truth. Anakin destroyed so much, and continues to ravage the Galaxy, Sidious holding his leash... but Luke will rebuild.

I must place my hopes in him, barely a boy, because if I do not, I must confess that I have no hope left. That is a very great sin for a Jedi, I recall, though who is to hold me to that, I wonder? I am the last.

The second sun has risen, and the day grows too warm. I turn my back to the suns? unforgiving heat, and half-shuffle, half-slide down the dune where I took my morning meditation. Today, I will follow the sheltering shade of the cliffs, past Eriwadih and Mos Eisley.

Owen was to be at Anchorhead for the next fortnight, Beru told me: this would be a good time to visit, see how the boy progresses.

 

Derisa- that was great!

yea not much of a talker am i?

but luved it n e wayz.

Till Later~
Siri

 

did everyone die??

UP!

 

Not dead! Just busy - and stricken speechless.

Very moving, Siri. A perfect portrait of the kind of madness that devolves into perfect evil. Brrr! Gives me chills.

And, Derisa- what the hell is there to say, except - when do you plan to publish your first professional work? Geez - I mean I could literally feel the sand in my teeth - and the despair in my heart. You captured perfectly the nobility - and the lonely determination to cling to what he was - that first caught my heart and made me - eternally - an Obi-Wan believer.

Excellent job, Guys - and I AM working on one. Almost finished with the current work in progress, so might have something soon.

CYN

 

Thanks for the boost, CYN. I'm working on it... But even if I meet my late September deadline for submissions, it'll be a couple of years before anything sees print.

I can't wait to read you piece: who are you doing? (I know, I know, keep the suspense, don't tell us... )

Well, I have to get to work on posts for Martyrs and Traitorous Knight. Take care!


*Derisa*

 

Thanx Cyn!

Always nice to hear a good word about something.

Till Later~
Siri

 

I am just found this and i think i am going to try, i mean it doesn't hurt. so time to get to work i guess, to everyone who has already post one, they are all great very real

Yoda

 

****************************
The wind blows against my skin, cooling it as the sun bakes it. The sun shines of the water as it moves; it looks like a sheet of a thousand diamonds. It was here, here that I gave him that kiss. Little did I know what it would lead to, the destruction of so much. If I had known then what I know now I don?t think I would have given it to him. But I did love him, I never could figure out why, I just did. It was the way of the Force as he would say. Those beautiful blue eyes, how many times did I lose myself in them, I can?t even count. It was me, he left for me, but why would a man I trust for so many years, turn the man I loved, the man I gave up everything for. The evil that he hid so well, Anakin was Anakin, never that thing he turned in to. Obi-Wan said he?s gone, dead to the dark side. I don?t believe him, Ani is still there, I know it. I can feel it. Oh Anakin, why did you turn so easily, you were supposed to be here, when they were born, your twins? A boy who has those same blue eyes and sandy blond hair, and the girl that in all accounts looks like me, but acts like you. There is only one Jedi left, the only one I trust. I wonder were he is. With Luke, singing him to sleep, he will bring back what you took Vader. He will bring back my Ani.
***********************
This was the first time i tryed this tell me what you think.

Yoda

 

Yoda that was great!! The way she knew that Ani wasn't completely dead, very nice.

Keep up the work, that was very very good for your first try.

Till Later~
Siri

 

More great posts! I'm eagerly awaiting more as I chase the plot bunnies...

 

thanks siri, thanks alot... i think i am going to try another one, if thats ok.


Yoda

 

No one would ever mind Yoda.

Keep writing.

Till Later~
Siri

 

WOW!!!!!!! GREAT JOBS ALL!!!!

Siri: Honestly...if you don't stop freaking the living crap out of me I might have to stop reading your work!!! Nah...I'll just get some good therapy...

 

Very impressive, all of you! I've been behind, so apologies for no individual commentary or congratulations. Keep up the good writing!

 

but I want to get away a bit from the territory I usually explore...

Does this mean you're going to write Anakin Cyn? *grins innocently and runs*

 

ok i am going to do another one, and maybe try and make it longer.


Yoda

Thanks guys...

 

Derisa - you WILL be sure to let all of us loyal readers know if you make the transition to PRO successfully - won't you? And are you really, REALLY working on an update to Traitorous Knight - or are you just stringing us along?

Mara - Although I HAVE tried Anakin once of twice (and if you think that didn't feel strange think again) No, I'm not thinking of him. As anyone who reads my work knows, I'm Obi-centric - but there are some peripheral characters that affected the things that happened to my favorite Jedi - and I might just try to explore one of them.

Great job, everyone.

Back soon - if I can just get the rest of Lingering Frost to come together, I'll be free to concentrate elsewhere. I very much admire writers who can write more than one fic at a time - but I'm not very good at it, I'm afraid. I get too immersed in the story - and barely remember to eat when I really get into it.

CYN

 

Absolutely, I will, CYN! Who else is gonna buy the books?

I am in fact working on a TK post: I'm just waiting for my beta-reader to finish with the next Martyrs piece before I swamp her with the Traitorous Knight post.

I am working on four stories right now, aside from the two novels currently in construction. Yes, it can be hard to maintain focus from story to story (which was why I broke off everything to finish off the last of the USJS), but I have of late discovered the benefits of mood music. Martyrs just flows from my fingers when I listen to the SpyGame soundtrack, the Johnny Mnemonic soundtrack triggers Last Chance material. I use a variety of medieval and folk music when I'm writing TK, and I got a friend to cut a CD of Sithly music for Dialogues. Now I can sit down to write and just switch CD's to switch stories. It's a neat trick and has yet to fail me.

Now that I've wired my brain that way, it's not too hard to write a series of disparate stories covering the full range of the SW milieu, from Dialogues, which is 500 years pre-prequel, to Last Chance which is post-OT era.

The Obi-short I wrote yesterday to some deep-voiced, meditative Russian chant.

*Derisa*

 

Derisa -Ya know what? I DO know what you mean - although I don't apply the music so much to different stories, as to different moods of the same story. Anything Simon & Garfunkel or Elton John helps me through romantic scenes, James Taylor (and have you heard his new CD - it's fabulous) through spiritual times, George Harrison and/or U2 through angsty moments - and I wrote an entire chapter of one of my more recent works with the soundtrack from Working Girl. And the soundtrack from Moulin Rouge is ALWAYS inspiring - although I won't stipulate just WHAT it inspires.

I tend to see music (and yes, I know that sounds weird) in the same way that I see my stories in my mind - and sometimes a simple melody is all it takes to turn a phrase a particular way - and shed a whole new light on where I'm going with a fic.

Am waiting with bated breath for your next posts. I am SOOOOOO enchanted with your lovely prose.

Later.

CYN

 

Yes, I will third that concept of music helping me write. Have you tried the Moulin Rouge 2, Cyn? Ascension has yet to fail me in writing moody, angsty things, especially involving grief (imagine that!). For battles, I have a four cd set of original music from the OT, and it usually puts me in a lightsaber-and-blaster mood quite nicely. For fun stuff, I have a few rollicking Celtic cds that work very well. Sometimes music just makes visualization that much easier.

And Derisa, Cyn isn't the only one waiting for your books.

 

TMJ - thanks for the tip. Also, Enya is habit-forming if you're trying for spiritual serenity - very LOTR, ya know? And the Tim Rice/Elton John version of Aida stirs passion and contemplation, depending on your mood. Plus - for pure, hard-driving, get-up-and-move and feel the music, choose from the Eagles, Def Leopard, or Arrowsmith. All have their different positions in the pantheon of inspiration. Pantheon - I like that word! What say you, Derisa? A verbivore, indeed!

 

God, so many of these have been incredible. You all are good writers.

I'm going to try my hand at it, though I don't think it's that good. :/ This is the first SW fic I've ever written-Originally it was (may be?) something much longer, but I just thought it stood better alone as a character sketch.

Anyway, tell me what you think, even if you think it absolutely sucks. Constructive critism is always welcome. Wahey, can't get any better without practicing, right?

******

My son's cries fill the air as lightning crackles against his skin. He is in tremendous pain, but he is not dying, not yet. I crawl, like a wounded dog, to my master's feet, and slowly, painfully rise. I know that the unspoken message is clear; I will stand by my master.

I watch as Palpatine sneers triumphantly. "Young fool...only now, at
the end, do you understand." Palpatine again raises his arms, continuing to assault my son with his force lightning. He is almost unconscious now, but I know Palpatine will never give him the mercy of being
unconscious when death finally overtakes him. Luke has gone too far, and now he
will pay the price for defying Palpatine's wishes.

"Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the dark side. You have paid the price for your lack of vision," my master hisses. It will be over soon now. Luke groans, and I turn my attention back to him.

"Father, please!" He is crying out to me for help. Why does he have this faith in me? It is too late for me. Once you start down the dark path, my son, forever does it dominate your destiny. I cannot come back to you, no matter how much my long buried heart wishes I could. I truly wish it didn't have to be this way.

If only Obi-Wan had not filled your head with these foolish notions, you would not be in this predicament. You could have been at my side Luke, a ruler of the galaxy, if not for those cursed ideas. I curse at Obi-Wan in my head and wonder if he can hear it out in the ether. All of this is entirely his fault.

Luke groans and raises a hand towards me again. I wish I could say I feel nothing for you and your plight, my son, but that would be a lie. I feel as if my heart is being ripped in two.

But that is foolish. I have no heart, no room left to love after all those whom I loved betrayed me; I have only dark hatred to cling to.

Yet...I love this son of mine. I love this boy, whom I have never truly known. I realize with a start that if I could, I would be crying at this moment. I do not want my son to die.

But...I glance back at Palpatine. I must obey my master. He stops his attack for a moment and I dare to hope that he will forgive Luke of this transgression, and allow me to keep my son and turn him. "Now, young Skywalker...you will die," he cackles. My hope dies. He resumes his assault on my son, increasing the lightning's powers to a fatal degree.

I glance back at my son, no longer capable of begging me for help, writhing on the floor in agony. I look back at my master; sickened and disgusted at the pleasure he takes in my child's pain. There is no doubt in my mind now what I must do.

I pick Palpatine up, surprising him. He struggles against me, and I wonder if I can manage to do this. The lightning in his fingertips once meant for my son sweeps over me. Palpatine may know that this is the end
of his reign, but force be damned if he isn't going to take me with him.

I stumble under this barrage, but I summon the last of my strength to keep going. With a final burst of power, I accomplish my task and hurl him as far as I can down the core. I watch Palpatine fall helplessly, screaming. When he is out of sight, I hear an explosion and see the blue flames swirling upwards. My master is dead, and with this knowledge in mind, I collapse toward the core myself.

The emperor's lightning has shorted out my breathing apperatus, and I black out for a few seconds. When I open my eyes again, I feel my son pull me away from the edge of the abyss. Now we both lay here on the cool
floor, exhausted.

There is so muc