It's another Tequila Sunrise

[Valentine]

Long after the last embers of sensuality that had been set ablaze during the brief kiss had been snuffed from existence, Kadarus’s mind still could not wander very far from the silky smooth, sensual taste of Sati’s lips. Traces of her saliva remained on the cusp of his lips, a nectarine flavour he would not soon forget. His tongue remembered the taste of her’s from their brief encounter and would not relent as it bombarded his mind with long absent lustful thoughts.

Fortunately, the twin women were unable to notice that his mind was less than focused on his present situation as they endeavoured to free him from the very prison they had locked him in a few hours ago. Kadarus took these few moments to compose himself and feel the energy and vitality return to his body. Sati’s kiss had done more than trigger primal emotions; it had pushed his body on its way to recovery. His muscles twanged with the power that had been stolen from them, eager for a chance to demonstrate their colossal might.

“Move,” the samurai said, a single word laced with so much authority that the two startled women had no choice but to oblige.

His muscles bulged as they exerted themselves, his face grimacing as he struggled against the chains which bound him. The metal links creaked under the stress before the first link finally snapped under the pressure. With one of them gone, the rest stood no chance and Kadarus let out an animalistic growl of frustration as he gave one final, powerful tug, shattering each of the binds that held him in place.

Kadarus rose a man triumphant, some form of pride restored after his chauvinistic display of strength. His legs pushed him to his feet in a less than steady manner; they had been bound down for so long that it almost felt strange for them to be free again. Still, it took only a moment for those muscles to be revitalized and the samurai to be comfortable standing upright once again.

“The weak men and women of this town do not occupy my thoughts for more than a moment,” he said, though it was more informative than authoritative in tone. He had calmed down somewhat, controlling his emotions enough to see these two women as what they were, his allies. Nothing more, nothing less. “What does concern me is what the two of you are you are doing in this part of the world. There is nothing special in this town, nothing here that warrants more than the bat of an eyelash.”

“We’re travelling without much aim,” Sapna stepped forward to say, her voice stern and objective. “An odd job here and there, under the employ of any that can make use of our... skills”

That last word sent shivers down Kadarus’ spine, though he did not let either of them see any signs of weakness. He took a few uneasy steps forward, stepping past the two of them and looking forward to the door exiting the warehouse.

“Perhaps we should leave then. But first, if you really gift me with your trust and belief... give me my sword.”

[Magdalena]

Upon hearing Kadarus’ request, Sati turned to her sister, the question glimmering clearly in her arctic eyes. The priestess was still reluctant in granting too much of her trust, especially when the recipient killed without rhyme or reason, answering to naught but murderous whims. That a greater force had planted the seeds of change in this man did little to assuage her worries; in fact, this knowledge only made things worse. His relative tameness might have been a chance occurrence, a mere oversight by whatever had cursed him to become this arbitrary killer. At any moment, the corruption could pour into his veins and the poison consuming him it could guide his shivering hands toward the only antidote he knew.

“Yes, we have to,” was Sapna’s sincerest reply to the unspoken query. Her gloved hand trailed to her belted hips, past the ebony sheathes of her daggers to an indistinct shadow that seemed to rest on the small of her back. Its form seemed to warp with the touch and, as it slid into sight, took on the shape of a curved sword, sheathed in three feet of sullen grey and spattered crimson. With a slight yank, she pulled the blade out from the scabbard, emerald eyes stern as she saw its blood-red hue, as she felt it beckon to drink more and more. Insatiable. “Your sword is not your venom,” she began calmly, her tone oddly dispiriting. “However, it is as much of a conduit for the infection as it is a bane unto itself.”

“I know of this,” Kadarus answered, his voice neither shameful nor joyous with pride. It was simply awareness of an evil he could not discard, the submission to a habit from which he would never wean. Not unless he held on to the blade, not unless he yielded to its demands. Outstretching his hand, he waited for the vile touch of the hilt, the all too familiar weight of the wicked weapon. “Yet I will keep it. I must. The Valentine cannot be denied.”

“No, I suppose not,” Sati said with a sneer of sarcasm. “That is why you will kill us the moment you hold it, is it not? The cold haft of a killing tool is all that is needed for you to throw those hollow promises to the wind. Do you have no will, or is it simply weak? Ah, nothing but pretty words scrawled to the dust...” She even grinned as the swordsman cringed, his eyes gleaming as gold in the forge, angry and afire.

“What my sister so tactlessly meant to say,” Sapna began, looking crookedly at the priestess, “is that you seem to have forgotten one thing. You are a tool to your sword as much as your sword is a tool to you.”

“And what my sister so wisely meant to say,” Sati interrupted, “is that if you cannot deny its urges, you can learn to control them.” The priestess had concluded with an annoyed tone of finality, happy to end a lecture that made her queasy with repugnance.

Then, as curtly as can be, she purloined the katana from Sapna’s grip. She paused, sighing deeply to collect herself, and with as much trust as she could muster, she brought it dangling in front of Kadarus’ face. “The men I kiss are never weak. Do not prove me wrong.” At last, she shoved the sheath into his outreaching hand, and to his wide-eyed stare, she only grinned. The men Sati kissed also never lived very long, but that he would learn another day, perhaps.

Sati strolled away from a scenery of dust and darkness that had become so familiar it sickened her. Too many hours were spent in this dank warehouse, and the smell of brine and stale fish was starting to impregnate her dress. She yearned for the sunrise, if only for a momentous change of pace. Thus, without a word, she left the depot through the brightening doorway. Sapna answered the look on the man’s face with a shrug, then scuttled for the exit to rejoin her hasty sibling. Seeing that there was nothing more to say, Kadarus tightened his grip on the scabbard, the loosened it as he simply followed suit.


Only minutes outside, and they could already perceive the sun’s scarlet crest peeking over the horizon, dragging itself up from a long night’s slumber. Sati could hear the distant caw of a lone gull, an early bird wandering the shores past the port of Etheria, testimony of how young the day still was. Despite that, however, they met with activity the moment they rounded a soot-stained fence of bricks, onto the scene of the midnight’s massacre. Constables and street labourers had gathered there, quietly at work as they pulled half a dozen dead sailors out of sight, picking severed limbs that had flown into the town’s decorative underbrush and industriously scrubbing the blood from the brick walls and cobbles.

Before Sati could even swear and back away behind the corner, an officer accosted her, the skin beneath his lavender eyes sagging and weary. The Drow was a grouch, his speech cantankerous as he questioned her. “Isn’t it rather early for a leisure walk, milady?” Something in that last word made Sati cringe in disgust, either the degrading way in which he spoke it or the simple fact that during her noble upbringing, she had never heard it used in anything but a pejorative way. “As you can see, the nights here can be dangerous. It’s a wonder you’re unharmed.”

“Oh gods, what… what has happened here?” she stammered apprehensively, gently pushing the officer out of the way for a better look at the premises. Two quick steps forward and a last, tentative one to show that she was realizing the situation. Bringing one quavering hand to her lips, she backed away step by step, evincing as much revulsion as she was capable until she had to turn away. She tottered weakly as she crouched to rest on a wall, the heave of her shoulders arrhythmic as she faked the repression of vomit.

Taking advantage of the moment, she pinched the skin near her eyes, drawing tears of pain and minor swelling as she began to whimper between whispered words of disbelief. For a moment she hesitated - the final act was one she would definitely not enjoy. Finding no escape, she subtly stuck her finger down her throat, prodding around until she gagged. The woman purged an already empty stomach into the bushes, yet the watery substance still burned her, smelling foul an acrid. She lay there for a moment, feeling truly sick and incapable of reacting to neither the officer’s soft rasps and taps on her back nor his words of worry and apology. ‘The price to pay for maintained freedom,’ she groaned inwardly.

Alas, in that moment, she saw Kadarus appear from the street’s corner, with a careless Sapna roving in tow. Silence hung taut in the air, the constable having seen the two as well, but his eyes focused on that fleeting image of a red-stained sheath. “You… that’s…” he stuttered, afraid to look back at the scene, at the slashed and dismembered bodies. The swordsman saw that creeping realization on the officer’s face, could feel the Valentine calling to be released, to deal with these gnats and taste the unctuous blood of dark elves. He would have answered, had Sapna not intervened.

She cried in a huff, as if she had been running. “Thank god, officer! I’ve been attacked!” In an instant she had flung herself into the man’s arms, shivering with fright and sobbing as she tried to catch her breath. “This man… h-he saved me from my assailants. He managed to take down two of them with that stick, but there were too many! We had, had to run,” she blubbered on, face still buried in the man’s shirt.

“Stick?” he asked, incredulous. “That’s not a stick that’s clearly a… a… stick?” Unable to believe it, he squinted his eyes, then drew his head back slightly, but the result was always the same. It was a stick, seemingly broken off from one of the many maple trees scattered along the streets, and stained with fresh blood from blunt strikes to the head, apparently. With a more scrutinous look at the man, he noticed similar trails on his body such as his face, neck and hands most likely spattered from the impact. “I must have been mistaken. All this has… oh, it’s so early.” Massaging the bridge of his nose, he resumed. “You said you ran from them. How far from here, and how many?”

“I… I don’t know how long we’ve been running. But it was a-almost a straight line, I think. Down that street.” Sapna was calming down, stinting her whimpers and replacing them with the occasional sniffling. “Ten, maybe twelve. T-two wounded. Armed with s-swords.”

“Alright men,” the officer grinned, the weary look on his face quickly replaced by one of satisfaction. “We’ve found our culprits. Everyone follow me.” All stood at once, fastening their belts and checking that their blades and sword breakers were present and at the ready. With a whistle from their leader, they stormed out in his tow, yet were silent and organized enough not to bottleneck into the narrow street. Only the workers were left, some staring absently at the dust brewing in their wake, others throwing away their scrubs and pails for an early break. Only few paid attention to the three outsiders, but it was listless, almost as if they wished for them to leave.

“I will not argue with that,” Sati murmured, slowly rising from her shelter near the bushes. She had been all but forgotten, and was beginning to wonder if her act had been necessary, but to believe that she had retched for nothing was a dispiriting thought. Looking at Kadarus and her sister, she gestured for them to leave first. Half a minute later, she did the same, only taking a different path so as not to arise suspicion.


“You certainly thrive under pressure, Sapna. A stick? That was rather ingenious,” Sati said in genuine praise.

“I’m surprised I failed none of my illusions,” the girl answered, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her final feat had been beyond taxing, and the wear of a sleepless night did nothing to help. Still, that she was still so apt in such circumstances proved that she was becoming stronger. “An eventful night, and not a bad one at that. Though, the officer hasn’t worn clean clothing in weeks.”

“Well you had to hide your face some way, or else he’d be suspicious to find identical women stumble upon the same place with two different stories. Plus I doubt you would have managed to change your face and the sword simultaneously. Besides, you were quite an actor.”

“I would have killed them,” Kadarus said at long last, breaking his self-imposed muteness. Ever since their narrow escape, he had been silently brooding, and for what reasons neither of the twins knew. The sisters’ light conversation had come to a screeching halt, as had their stroll through the dark alleys of the city. Trying to make sense of his words, they waited, watching. He was holding his blade laxly, staring at it as he would a strange and unknown device. “I was going to kill them, but you stopped me,” he continued, turning his golden gaze to the assassin sister. “That… has never happened before.”

“Your point being?” Sati asked hastily, hoping that he would not bawl with his heart on his sleeve, but at least speaking without her usual nagging quality. Sapna, however, silently answered the man’s gaze with her own implacable eyes.

“I have a proposal,” Kadarus said at last, this time meeting the priestess’ quizzical stare. “You said you were once an agent of the Audeamus.” There was a time of pause after this statement, a time during which the swordsman awaited an assertion. Sati, however, did nothing but narrow her eyes. “And you said you were seeking any who could make use of your abilities.” Again, she answered with nothing but a deeper squint. Almost sighing, Kadarus decided that there was no point in beating around the bush. “I would that both of you come with me, and return to the Audeamus as my… protégés, if you will.”

Her eyes were still narrowed, but a faint smile drew itself upon her rose-polished lips. ‘And here I thought you’d never ask.’ Looking at her sister, she received a nod of approval. “Well, and here I was thinking that you would hold a grudge for what I did to you,” she taunted, yet there was seductiveness in her tone. “Or is it that I have, somehow, redeemed myself?” This time, it was his silence that vexed her, which she made clear with an annoyed grunt. “And should we join you, what would be our first order of business, might I ask?”

Lifting his left hand, he presented them both the jewel upon his ring finger, the studded gem gleaming a somber grey in the alley’s shadows. “To get your own rings.”

“Well, well,” the priestess began humorously. “First a proposal, then a ring? But my, we’ve only just met.” She was playing coy, batting her eyelashes teasingly as she forced a blush and gyrated as sappily as she could. Sapna repressed a giggle at that, but Kadarus remained steadfast, apparently not one to be embarrassed by her flippant banter.

“Do you accept?” he asked sternly, as was his habit, though his tone was slightly gentler, more sincere, and touchingly expectant.

Putting her antics to a stop, she stared into the man’s eyes, wondering. When at last she answered, the rising sunlight threw shadows upon her ravishing face, and he could not choose whether it was an angelic smile or a devilish grin.

“I do.”

I'll submit this for judging now, but we'll have time for one final review of the thread. There are just a few kinks that need to be taken care of, but one short sitting should be enough.

I'm very sorry for making you wait this long, but I've been having a hard time being motivated to write with these two lately. It's back, though!

Also, "I would that" is not missing a verb. It's correct grammar.

To the judge, I know this final post is very long, but I think it flows better when in one block. Still I was wondering if it could be considered as two posts? If not, it's very okay, I just thought I would ask.

Spoils: No spoils. Instead, if everything could be dumped into experience, I would be very grateful.

[Breaker]

It's another Tequila Sunrise
Quest Judgement

Hopefully my comments are lucid enough, I haven't slept in about a day. As always, I'm available on AIM for extra commentary/discussion.

STORY

Continuity ~ 5/10. As far as storyline goes, this thread was pretty bare bones. The ending tied it off nicely, which saved you from a lower score, but there wasn't much of an arc, not much happened, and nothing really took me by surprise. I'm guessing you two didn't put a huge amount of thought into the storyline, and that results in a lower score here.

Setting ~ 7/10. You're both great descriptive writers; you know it and you show it. I especially liked Valentine's opening description of the battle with the blood spattered across his invisible form. But I think you both need to go back to the minors a little. You got caught up in describing your characters, and yes, this thread was all about the characters, but that doesn't change the importance of observing and interacting with the setting. For example, I think I read at least six different descriptions of the twins' eyes, but I didn't even know where the chains came from. That's a fairly inconsequential detail, but a paragraph about the girls shaking rust off the chain like an ancient serpent shedding skin then winding it around Kade and a scarred oaken support beam would have helped me identify with the surroundings more. I know it can get stale describing the same room over and over again, but try to find new things to elaborate on; look for ways to make your warehouse original.

Pacing ~ 5.5/10. In all honesty, as a casual reader I don't think I would have finished this thread. The first post was incredibly thick and didn't demand attention; the second kept me reading but was rather long winded. The elaborate descriptions of torture and pain kept me reading, but never had me begging for more, never kept me guessing. I find pacing is largely tied into the other categories, so my comments here run a little short.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 5.5/10. Dialogue wise, I think the first post was my favourite. Not saying anything, barely even pausing to think, really represented Kade strongly for me. However, I think a little banter between the sailors would have added the edge of realism to the scene. From then on, the dialogue was defiantly average. Despite the insane level of physical and emotional pain the characters went through, the dialogue remained bizarrely lucid. Also, until the last post, each interaction seemed to have "plot point" written all over it. In the last post, things got a little melodramatic and daytime-soapish, capped off by that buffoon of a cop. And IMHO... "Using all caps DOES NOT ADD ANYTHING TO DIALOGUE!"

Action ~ 6/10. You both have writing styles that seem to get in the way of your action sequences. I picked a one paragraph example to break down for each of you.

The next few moments were a blur, as the final bastions of Kadarus' resistance broke down. His feet moved of their own accord, tapping loudly on the ground so quickly and with such force that it was as if a herd of buffalo was stampeding forward. The sailors backed away in fear, knowing that something horrible their way was coming. A katana rose in the air, humming as its fine blade sliced through the air before coming down across the chest of the first unlucky man, spraying blood into the air like a crimson fountain. The Valentine Bleeder did not relent though, using the momentum from that strike to move into his next one, his bloody katana bathing itself in more blood with a diagonal strike across the waist of his next victim.

First of all, you want to avoid words like "was" and "were" at all costs in action sequences. It's passive voice, and it slows things down. "Was" is not an essential word like "the" or "a" or "he". It can be avoided, and it should be in these sections. A perfect example is the buffalo metaphor. "His feet moved of their own accord, tapping the ground forcefully like a herd of stampeding buffalo" is a very nice simile. But you ruined it by adding in all those extra words. Think about the way you wrote this paragraph, then think how you could write it using stronger, concise language. I'm getting long winded here myself, so I'll just say if you want any help with this, feel free to IM me.

She drew her hand back, the palm fuming sulphurous. Silence did not hang long, broken as it was by the violence of the slap. His head jerked to the right, a stream of red spouting out of his mouth under the impact. The skin on his cheek was hissing and melting, slathered in the corrosive substance, but it was not over. She was not yet done.

A lot of the stuff I said above to Valentine applies to you as well, so I wanted to point something else out here. The first two sentences read rather awkwardly, and as a result spoil the rest of the sequence. There are at least a half dozen ways you could have worded it better with the same writing; it's time to start finding these passages when you proofread, and improving them. Once you get good at that, you'll notice them as you write them, and before long you'll be writing concise action instinctively and efficiently.

Persona ~ 6.5/10. Looking over my notes, I have "one dimensional" scrawled in more than one place. You wrote them well, but they came off as violent characters in a violent story, rather than multi-faceted, interesting individuals.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 7.5/10. You both know how to use vivid imagery, for damn sure. In particular, you both have a rare strength in personnification, which I love reading. But again, I found that at times your writing got in the way of technique. A good example is the last paragraph of post #9. "Simplest", "faintest", and "greatest" are all rather weak adjectives, which are weak words to begin with. Try using adjectives with a little more color, or if you can, verbs. Another example is the first paragraph of post #11. The second half of that paragraph is very good; the first half is one horrible run on sentence. Stuff like this, as well as general awkward/roundabout/thick/longwinded writing, can really take away from those powerful literary devices.

Mechanics ~ 8.5/10. I caught an error once in awhile, but only on a couple occasions was it significant enough to give me pause. Careful proofreading can only improve this, but good job.

Clarity ~ 7.5/10. Pretty good here, but I'm going to summarize what I said over the span of a few categories: both of you have numerous, if not dozens of paragraphs in this quest that could be a few lines shorter without losing anything at all. And again, if you need a little help just give me a shout. This could seem inconsequential, but when the words don't get in the way of the writing, your reader is free to enjoy.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 7/10. This could have been a 10 if a threeway ensued, but you walked a different path.

TOTAL ~ 66/100. Despite my harsh critique I mostly enjoyed this read, except when I felt like I was wading through a swamp. But then, what's the point of a judgement if I don't tear the thread apart? I trust neither of you will despair, and I look forward to seeing more from both of you.

EXP and GP Rewards

Valentine gains 2700 EXP and 150 GP
Magdalena gains 1426 EXP and 150 GP

Other Rewards

Kadarus finds the broken halves of an iron chain link in his pocket; a reminder that even the mighty can be bound.

In the folds of her dress, Sati finds a loop of Kade's skin, burned tough and leathery by her acid. It fits almost perfectly as a bracelet or anklet, but is not a recommended affectation for fancy dinner parties.

[Witchblade]

EXP and GP added!