Friday, October 25, 2013

Friends and Enemies // Chapter Twelve // A Failed Escape


   Willow bit her lip as she was shoved roughly towards the horses, her hands bound together in front of her. Should I make a break for it? she wondered. Author, what should I do? she prayed, but knew that the Author didn't speak in audible voices in your head. He spoke through the Writ, his very word. He didn't speak through the "silence" either. Trying to listen to him by sitting quietly trying to hear some voice in your head wasted your time and opened you up to the influences of the Shadow.
   Please help me, she pleaded.
   "Onto the horse, girl," an inexperienced-looking young guard ordered her, joining his hands together like a step. Obviously she couldn't just run for it now, so she agreeably stepped into his hands and awkwardly clambered onto the horse. Trying to do that with your hands tied together in front of you was rather trying. Gritting her teeth, the guard produced a handy piece of rope and tied her hands to the saddle horn. Then taking the halter, he followed the others.
   Willow turned in the saddle to glance over her shoulder, searching for Teclemith. He was on the horse directly behind her. He met her gaze and had a fierce gleam in his eye. Lifting her shoulders in a slight shrug, Willow blinked at him. He nodded slightly at the guard leading his horse as he stopped for a moment to retrieve something he'd dropped. She nodded slowly back at Teclemith. The plan was in place.
   Trying to act natural {an act that she was infamous for not being able to carry out} Willow glanced casually around her, as if enjoying the scenery {which sounds absolutely ridiculous when you think about it}. Then came the moment of truth.
   Teclemith's guard dropped something again {what a klutz, was her personal opinion} and bent down to retrieve it, loosening his hold on the halter. Teclemith waited for only a millisecond before kicking him hard in the back. The guard let go of the halter and landed face-down on the muddy moss of the path. Wrenching his hands free, Teclemith grabbed the reins and urged his horse forward, close enough to Willow's guard to throw him off-balance. A quick push with her left foot allowed her and her horse to break free and gallop after him.
   "This way!" Teclemith directed, pointing down a narrow footpath barely visible between two trees. Willow nodded bravely, and tried to shake off her insecurity with horse riding.
   Riding in first, Teclemith made good time. He was a natural on horses, guiding the horse through with excellent precision. Willow followed more slowly, trying to direct her horse as best  she could, hoping against hope that the horse wouldn't stumble. The hanging branches scraped her face and raked at her hair, pulling it free in long tangled wisps, some of which fell into her face, hindering her vision even more.
   "Teclemith, are you sure-" she began, but was cut off by the dreaded sound of an arrow whistling inches from her ear.  Her usual calm composure was rattled, and she shrieked in surprise.
   "Down there!" she heard a cry. Oh, no!
   "Teclemith, hurry!" she called out in warning, digging her heels into the horse's flanks. Teclemith had also heard, and was galloping forward through the now falling fog. The mist felt cool and damp on her face and hands as she thundered through the narrow passage between the trees.
Teclemith by now had reached what looked like some sort of bog. He dismounted as fast as he could and caught the reins of Willow's horse as she galloped up.
   "Hurry!" were his only words. She nodded and slid off {rather clumsily} as quickly as she could.
   He led the way as they raced against time through the bog. Their feet sunk into the muck, which made it even more difficult to run. Teclemith was {of course} faster, taller, and generally more athletic than Willow {who generally hated any type of exercise and avoided it like the plague} so he was making better time. The shouts of their pursuers grew louder, but it looked like they were home-free. Until...
   Willow turned slightly to look back over her shoulder, to see how far behind the bad guys were, when her foot struck a large stone. Crying out in pain, she stumbled and fell, clutching at her ankle and trying hard not to burst into tears as pain shot through her foot and lower leg. Teclemith was at her side in a second, trying to help her up. Biting her lip against the pain, Willow tried her hardest to run, to walk, to crawl, anything to get away from the Shadow closing in. But her ankle seared with pain, and try as she might, she couldn't even hobble.
   "Go, Teclemith! I'll be fine, leave me," she croaked, her throat clogged with held-back tears.
   He refused. "A gentleman never leaves a damsel in distress," he assured her as their pursuers scrambled up.
   Teclemith was now forced to walk between several guards. They weren't taking anymore chances. Tajoreth {much to her embarrassment} carried Willow back to the Fortress. So much for an escape, she lamented.

*****************

   So sorry for the delay, but I hadn't written this until yesterday and this morning, so it wasn't ready yet. And the edit for the cover should be done within the week {hopefully}.

~Willow

   By the way, we have a new authoress here on The Call! Welcome Ammelia Gabriella!

   Postscript: I will hopefully have a characters post done soon!

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The Watchmen Files // Half Chapter Six // Characters page

   Top of the morning to ya!

   Once again, it is I, Darrion! But once again, it is a half chapter that I must post. Why? Because I'm not finished. Thought I was, turned out I wasn't. And now I'm sick :( Not like I've got a funny feeling in my stomach, but a real cold. Bleck.

   But anyway, that also means that I will give you a special treat because you have to wait until next Watchmen Wednesday for the rest.

And that treat is this...

A characters page!


   A what, you ask? A characters page has actually been on this blog for a while, but has been under construction. But now, it is open! I have put the important characters on the page for you to view, because we know just how confusing it is to remember what all those guys look like.

   I do believe Willow will be adding pictures for her story later Friends and Enemies, so hang tight!


And here is my preview for the next chapter...


   "Mikey, I see you're playing the tourist part well," a young man's smug voice chirped from behind the postcard stand in the gift shop that Sargent Graham immediately recognized as Jason Gray.
   Michael Graham sighed, annoyed once more by the son of one of his best friend calling him that irritating nickname that just wouldn't go away. "Don't call me that," he remarked in his light Scottish accent.
   "Why?" Jason shrugged casually. "Dad calls you that all the time."
   Graham adjusted his Ducks football cap and kept the no-nonsense expression on his lightly scarred face. "You aren't your dad. Now why'd you call me here, kid?"
   Jason flinched, irritated by the use of the word kid. "If you remember, I'm Junior Director Gray now. I'm not a kid anymore." Then Jason's tone turned more playful again. "Just like you're not as young as you once were." After all, the guy's, like, in his fifties now. That was pretty old for a Watchman, but not too old to be a trainer of rookies.

   "We shouldn't talk out here," Graham whispered carefully, glancing around the Tillamook Air Museum gift shop warily.
   "You're right," Jason nodded toward the hanger where they kept the vintage aircraft for the public to view.
   When they entered, Jason admired to high open structure of the hanger. The crisscrossing beans when made in WWII out of wood, since they were running low on mettle for the air craft. It was first made to hold Blimps, but now housed many different vintage air craft. They moved closer to a group of planes and Graham ducked around the tail to move on and study the cockpit.
   "This is a
PBY Catalina," Graham stated.
   "And how would you know that?" Jason questioned. "I mean, I know you're old and all, but you're not that old."
   Graham's expression grew cold. "Cut to the chase, Jase."
   "Right," he pulled out an old photo from his pocket and handed it to Graham. "We want to know if you'll train this little guy."
   The photo was of a boy, with dark curly hair and a smiling face seated at a table with a cake on top (most likely a birthday cake, with the six candles pocking out of it). The boy wasn't alone in the picture, a man Graham knew very well was standing near, along with his pretty red/brown haired wife. He wasn't smiling much (he hardly ever did) but he did have a small smile peeping out. It made Graham smile too, recalling the old memories fondly, then his face turned downcast when the not-so-fond memories came to him. That poor boy...
   He examined it carefully, taking in all the details before asking, "Where'd you get this?"
   "I've got connections," Jason examined a postcard as if it was an easy task to get his hands on the family's last real family picture. "And I knew you'd want to help. You knew his dad, you know what they're like."
   "They who?"
   "You know who. Supers. After all, you worked with them a lot."
   Graham turned to look the young ambitious man in the eyes. "Is he an active?"
   "Yup. Just take look at this," Jason handed him a iPad with a video of the little boy, except he was much older, probably in his mid-twenties, and he was smashing through a door and running from Watchmen. Just like his dad.
   "He's got the condition?"
   "Oh yeah. Except it's more muted than his father's, of course."
   He understood and considered the idea of becoming his trainer. There were a lot of difficulties with Supers: they were different than normal people, stronger, and specialized in different ways, but weaker in others. They often had emotional issues, and this kid would probably have them too. His dad had left him, his cousin had been captured, and he was alone in the world. The kid would be tough, like his dad.
   Jason tapped his foot impatiently. "What's the verdict, chief?"
   After considering the concept for a moment longer, Graham nodded, "I'll take him."

And there you have it! Now I'm gong to go get another tissue box and work on the rest of the chapter. And make sure to check the characters page, see the characters, you know, all that good stuff. 

And, please, if you happen to think that a character is particularly good-looking, keep it to yourself. We have eyes, we can see. And some of us are still kids (*cough cough* me), and feel even sicker when you say that stuff.
Thank you for your cooperation :)


Sincerely,
Darrion

Characters // The Watchmen Files // File One

Here are the characters for my (Darrion's) story, The Watchmen Files, File One


Main Character
Mason W. Kruger


Supporting Character
Conner J. McKee


Other Characters Include the Following

Ava R. Ross


Dr. Hans J. Kruger


Jason Grey, Junior Director of Recruitment Divisions


Captain Clark Barton


Sven Kruger


Lila Norris

http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/5f/69/26/5f692684f791ec19e9ed22dba7b02b9d.jpg

The training squad's characters include the following


Sargent Mike B. Graham


Duke S. York


Gabriel (Gabe) F. O'Malley


Felipe and Jean-Claude Rousseau


Jared Washington

http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/fb/b7/8e/fbb78ef535ed140d6bc6378cb35a5ef5.jpg

Chris Wilson



Hank Sulaven


Leon Washington



When more characters appear throughout the story, I will update this post and you can view them on our characters page


Sincerely,
Darrion