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We sit here, facing each other across this coffee table, mugs in hand. A moment passes, and then another, and one more — and nothing happens.

"Isn't it getting to be that time?" You'll eventually ask, and I will ponder the sentiment for a multitude of moments. And just when I know that you're about to tell me that, in fact, I'm definitely running out of time, I'll start speaking, and after a few words, we'll suddenly be somewhere else and the fake-familiar construct fades away, irrelevant, forgotten.

Where we are instead — well, that's why we’re here, isn't it?

It may be an endless, rolling wave of sand dunes, as I point towards the horizon, describing the silvery ships that will soon come to rain death on the defenseless colony behind us. But look closely, and you’ll see one of the pilots does not fire; she’s the one who will lead the fight against her former comrades. We'll explore her past and see why she joined up, and then turn our eyes to the future, and see how she'll start — and end — the revolution.

Another week, and it may be our future we’re walking through, yours and mine, ravaged by war or uplifted by technology, as we journey through the fallen/rebuilt/floating testaments to humanity's yearning for the stars. They are astounding creations — and yet, in the grand scope of a story, are simply set pieces that the characters we're concerned with will flit around. In story after story, we see that even the problems of just a few people do, in fact, amount to more than a hill of beans in this crazy world.

We'll dive down even further, and go inside someone's mind — a soldier, or maybe a poet — and learn of the struggles they face in their particular age and time, be it a speculative far future or historical distant past, and experience their lives as they surpass their challenges or fall victim to their trials. We'll see that conflicts inherently crystallize not around lofty ideas like freedom and liberty, but instead on specific people and their personal journeys — a small child who has his parents taken away; a brother who is estranged from his sister; two friends who fight on different sides of a war.

My goal is to tell you an interesting, provocative, different story every week. It will almost always be fiction and it will generally be fantastical, but those are guidelines, not rules. There are no rules — and no roads — where we're going. There, is, however, a hope — that eventually, when you return to this world, the real world, you'll leave the one you just left with a touch of regret, and a desire to come back for more.
talonkarrde: (Default)
Some of the best times in my life — and most certainly my writing career — from this competition, and so to have the privilege of entering it again is one that I can't pass up. I look forward to reading more and writing more, and I will wax no more poetic here, for I'm sure there's going to be more than enough of that in the weeks ahead. I might even post early, one of these days, just to break the pattern.

So to you, and you, and especially you — my name's Sean, and I'm rejoining The Real Livejournal Idol today. Let's see what worlds we can create, shall we?
talonkarrde: (Default)
This is an arena, my friend, a colosseum that is the pride of this country, where spectators come to spend their time, a currency above any other. It is a competition, my fellow gladiator, where we must demonstrate our skills, our cunning, our masteries. And it is a battle, my enemy, against me and every person that is in here with you, for only one will emerge victorious. 

There are those that will fall because they lack the strength to continue on after five, ten, twenty rounds, and we will miss them. There are those that fall because they do not please the crowd, for the crowd is a fickle and strange creature that can not be predicted, and we will mourn them. And finally, there are those who will fall because they are defeated in direct combat, one on one, and we will respect them.

And then we will move on, those who are still standing, for there are still more battles to fight. It does not end until there is only one left, and then, after that, there is always the next season, though the one that wins will join the crowd, and turn it as he or she wills, and bestow his or her favor upon the competitors.

Let me tell you a bit about them.

He — over there — he's someone to watch out for, someone who comes up with a new and inventive response every time a challenge is thrown out. He'll come from out of nowhere and take the glory and adulation of the masses, and all the rest of us will be left behind, watching as the crowd throws roses and coins at his feet.

And her, the one with the yellow eyes — wait until she enters the arena, wait until she starts talking, and watch the crowd as they gasp, and cry, and fall to their knees, begging for more. She sinks her barb into you, and only when you are hers will she let go — but really, does she ever let you go? 

At least they are honorable, those two, who show you all their cards and win through skill instead of deception. In this, as in any competition that matters, there are others that are not so, who will deal themselves seconds and misdirect and deceive. But the rules are the rules, and playing 'underhanded' is not the same as doing something illegal. Consider for a moment that perhaps the two I mentioned before are only honorable because their skill is such that they need not resort to other tactics. If they did not win the crowds, if they did not have so many supporters from their hometowns, would they still walk the same path? It is a question to be considered.

But regardless of the path that we choose, we share the same goal, and we will face the same challenges, and we will fall, one after another, until only one remains.

May the best person win — and perhaps, for once, it would be nice if he were a man.

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