r/shortstories • u/OldBayJ Mod | r/ItsMeBay • Jul 18 '21

Serial Sunday [SerSun] Serial Sunday: Dissonance!

Note for SerSunners:

Note: We have several new writers that have recently joined us. That’s so exciting! Please make sure you are reading the entire post each week, and following all rules and requirements. *You are required to leave two feedback comments on the thread (on a total of two stories, not two on one) by 12pm, est, the following Sunday.***

Welcome to Serial Sunday!

To those brand new to the feature and those returning from last week, welcome! Do you have a self-established universe you’ve been writing or planning to write in? Do you have an idea for a world that’s been itching to get out? This is the perfect place to explore that. Each week, I will post a single theme to inspire you. You have 850 words to tell the story. Feel free to jump in at any time if you feel inspired. Writing for previous weeks’ themes is not necessary in order to join.

 

This week's theme is Dissonance!

This week we’re going to explore the theme of ‘dissonance’. Examples of this are found everywhere. It can be something as small as a disruptive sound or contrasting notes in music. Dissonance can be a disagreement or inconsistency between people, places, or things. This could be external, laid bare for the world to see, or something more internal, within your characters. This is an excellent time to build some real conflict within your world. What does that look like? How does that affect their plans and motivations? Will this cause a rift between the other characters?

These are just a few things to get you started. Remember, the theme should be present within the story in some way, but its interpretation is completely up to you.

IP / MP

 

Feedback on the Serial Sunday feature

Please take a moment this week to fill out this feedback form about SerSun. Let me know what you like, what you don’t, and what you think could be improved. There may be some bonus points in it for the writers (be sure to list your username in the form). Thank you in advance!

 

Theme Schedule:

I recognize that writing a serial can take a bit of planning. Each week, I will be releasing the following 2 weeks’ themes here in the Schedule section of the post.

  • July 18 - Dissonance (this week)
  • July 25 - Expectations
  • August 1 - Balance

 

Previous Themes: Fallen | Pride | Amends | Hypocrisy | Deception | Ignorance | Redemption | Purity | Growth | Sin | Choices | Preservation | Dichotomy | Harmony | Temptation | Loss | Resistance | Distortion | Courage | Misunderstandings | Surprise | Illusion | Secrets | Emergence | Discovery | Rebirth

How It Works:

In the comments below, submit a story that is between 500 - 850 words in your own original universe, inspired by this week’s theme. (Using the theme word is welcome but not necessary.) This can be the beginning of a brand new serial or an installment in your in-progress serial. You have until 6pm EST the following Saturday to submit your story. Please make sure to read all of the rules before posting!

 

The Rules:

  • All top-level comments must be a story. Use the stickied comment for off-topic discussion and questions you may have.

  • Do not pre-write your serial. You may do outlining and planning ahead of time, but you need to wait until the post is released to begin writing for the current week. Pre-written content or content written for another prompt/post is not allowed.

  • Stories must be 500-850 words. Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.

  • Stories must be posted by Saturday 6pm EST. That is one hour before the beginning of Campfire. Stories submitted after the deadline will not be eligible for rankings and will not be read during campfire.

  • Only one serial per author at a time. This does not include serials written outside of Serial Sunday.

  • Authors must leave at least 2 feedback comments on the thread (on 2 different stories) to quality for rankings every week. The comment must include at least one detail about what the author has done well. Failing to meet the 2 comment requirement will disqualify you from weekly rankings. (Verbal feedback does not count towards this requirement.) Missing your feedback two consecutive weeks will exclude you from campfire readings and rankings the following week. You have until the following Sunday at 12pm EST to fulfill your feedback requirements each week.

  • Keep the content “vaguely family friendly”. While content rules are more relaxed here at r/ShortStories, we’re going to roll with the loose guidelines for now. If you’re ever unsure if your story would cross the line, please modmail and ask!

  • Begin your post with the name of your serial between triangle brackets (e.g. <My Awesome Serial>). This will allow our serial bot to track your parts and add your serial to the full catalogue. Please note: You must use the same serial name for each installment of your serial. This includes commas and apostrophes. If not, the bot won’t recognize your serial installments.

 

Reminders:

  • Make sure your post on this thread also includes links to your previous installments, if you have a currently in-progress serial. Those links must be direct links to the previous installment on the preceding Serial Saturday/Sunday posts or to your own subreddit or profile. But an in-progress serial is not required to start. You may jump in at any time.

  • Saturdays I will be hosting a Serial Campfire on the discord main voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and share your own thoughts on serial writing! We start at 7pm EST. You can even come to just listen, if that’s more your speed. Don’t worry about being late, just join!

  • You can nominate your favorite stories each week. Send me a message on discord or reddit and let me know by 12pm EST the following Sunday. You do not have to attend the campfire, or have read all of the stories, to make nominations. Making nominations awards both parties points (see breakdown at the bottom of this post).

  • Authors who successfully finish a serial with at least 8 installments will be featured with a modpost recognizing their completion and a flair banner on the subreddit. Authors are eligible for this highlight post only if they have followed the 2 feedback comments per thread rule (and all other post rules).

  • There’s a Serial Sunday role on the Discord server, so make sure you grab that so you’re notified of all Serial Sunday related news!

 

Last Week’s Rankings

What a full week! We had a total of 21 stories submitted. New stories began, others progressed, and they were all so good! Thanks to everyone who participated this week, and those who joined in the Campfire, helped read them all, and provide feedback for those who were present.

 

Ranking System

The weekly rankings work on a point-based system. Here’s the breakdown:

Nominations (votes sent in by users): - First place - 6 points - Second place - 5 points - Third place - 4 points - Fourth place - 3 points - Fifth place - 2 points - Sixth place - 1 point

Feedback: In order to be eligible for feedback points, you have to complete your 2 required feedback comments.

  • Written feedback (on the thread) - 1 point each, up to 3 points (5 crits total on the thread)

  • Verbal feedback (during Campfire) - 1 point each, up to 3 points.

  • Note: Completing the max for both is equivalent to a first place vote. Keep in mind that you should not be using the same feedback to receive both written and verbal feedback points on the same story. Your feedback should be actionable and list at least one thing the author has done well.

Nominations: Making nominations for your favorite stories will now earn you extra points! - 3 points for sending your favorite stories to me, via DM, by 12 pm Sunday, EST. You may send a max of six nominations. (The 3 points are the total.)

 

Subreddit News

 

14 Upvotes

94% Upvoted

94 comments sorted by

1

u/OldBayJ Jul 18 '21

Welcome to Serial Sunday!

  • All top-level comments must be serials.

  • Reply here to discuss the theme, suggest future themes, or talk about serial writing.

  • Please read the post rules carefully and follow the subreddit rules in any feedback.

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4

u/Ahoroar Jul 20 '21

<Soul Incursion>

Chapter 6

Teravor, put his free arm over the young monk. The two left the apartment and walked in the corridor. He explained, “Rhetorical question. No one has ever seen a religion fall. It is more complicated than that.”

Redrowen eyed the knight carefully, wondering. In a shaking voice, he asked, “W-what are you saying?”

The two paused and Teravor looked at the monk. There was something to his face, more than the wolfish qualities, that made him look… concerned. Finally, he said, “I was never meant to wage war. I do not like what it entails, nor what the consequences will be afterwards, but it seems I must.”

“You are going to go to war with the Order of One Will?” Redrowen could barely say the words, but he looked back at the other man with wide-eyed disbelief. It was like fighting the creator! It was madness!

For his part, Teravor shrugged and then resumed walking with the young monk still firmly under his arm. If anyone came upon them it would have looked like two friends walking the halls of the bishop’s quarters. “I think we have been at war,” Teravor declared. “We just had no knowledge of it until more recently.”

Armored footsteps echoed ahead of the two men before four guards from the Guild appeared. Golden sunburst sat on their chests with the eye of the One at its center. Hope rose in the young monk, but then blood-slicked steel touched his throat.

“I promise I will not kill you, but I need to buy a little time."

Redrowen did not speak. What could be said to such a mad man? For a moment he chose to close his eyes and pray.

The guards reached them, weapons drawn, and all four of them looked like ice in the face of Teravor the Unyielding.

“Cedric!” Teravor exclaimed with a smile in his voice. “Good to see you, old friend!”

An older man at the back spat on the ground, his one good eye glaring from under his helm, “I am no traitor’s friend.”

“Traitor? Come now Cedric, what have I actually done to be a traitor?”

“You betrayed the Order!” The old guard nearly screamed. “You betrayed us! You fled to Lasendall the first chance you got, lying to us all the while!”

Squirming under the blade, carefully, Redrowen added meekly, “You killed the bishop?”

“Okay,” Teravor replied sounding resigned, “guilty on all accounts. But – and I can explain – I had very good reasons for all of these things.”

Another guard shouted, “There are no good reasons for what you have done! Undead lay siege to the very home of the One, and you murder their holy messengers!” They fanned out around Teravor in a half-moon and prepared to attack.

Passion flared in Teravor, and he growled, “It is a corrupt home. They sent us to murder children and other poor souls who could have been saved! No. More. What I do now, I do for the One more purely than any of those pious men.”

The guards advanced, and with a shove the cursed knight moved Redrowen out of his way. The young monk slammed into a wall, and the wind was driven from his lungs.

He caught himself on an open window, breathless, and the sounds of steel meeting steel behind him played out. Hazel eyes looked at the scene below, and he found something more concerning to watch than the fight behind him.

Marching across the open plain was an unfathomable force of the dead. Stretching from left to right, and from the gates of the cathedral all the way out of sight, untold number of shambling soldiers marched against the church. Redrowen’s blood turned cold.

In the distance, a surge of power reached towards the heavens like a fount of horrid grey-green water before dying away. Then, surging forward with horrific speed, a wave of that same ill-colored power raced to the cathedral.

It slammed into the building, and the very stone shuddered, throwing Redrowen to the ground where he watched the ceiling fracture.

An unarmored hand reached down and grabbed him by his robes, hoisting him to his feet. Laying on the ground, their weapons shattered, the four guards did not move. Only Teravor remained standing, and he appeared unharmed.

“You killed them?” The young monk asked, though he felt silly for it. Of course they were dead.

Teravor shook his head to the monk’s surprise, stating, “I only kill if I must. These were good men, meaning well, but in my way. I hope that they will forgive me for what I have done and make it out in time.” The cathedral shook again, but neither of them moved. More cracks appeared in the stone, and the cursed knight pulled the monk along, “Come."

Redrowen looked at the other man confused, “I cannot come with you. You are--”

“Save your judgement,” Teravor interrupted, heated. He sighed and asked, “Tell me, friar, what was your oath charge?”

Blinking, Redrowen answered, “Truth.”

“By your oath I compel you: seek the truth.”

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6

u/Xacktar Jul 22 '21 edited Jul 24 '21

<Captain's Orders>

It's natural to feel unsettled in a place of death. Cemeteries, funeral homes, hospitals, and morgues all share that skin-shivering quality of not-so-subtly reminding people that they too are mortal.

That goes double when it's in the dark.

For a few moments Joe just focused on breathing in and out, quieting the noise inside his head as he tried to get all the pieces of his little theory lined up. There was no light, not a speck. No windows in the morgue, not a glimmer.

"Um..." Robin's uncertainty filled his ears. "I'm a little in the dark here."

"Obviously."

"Oh, no, I... I meant about why we need a posse and how you knew there'd be glass in the wound and-"

"You want me to explain it now?" Joe wanted to turn around and face her, but he didn't know where her face was. "I think we have bigger problems."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Emergency lights should kick on any minute."

"That's not my worry."

There was a sound outside, the sound of a heavy truck engine rolling by. Joe flailed about until he found the edge of the autopsy table, then the edge of Robin's oven mitts. He decided not to grab onto those for obvious reasons and gently touched her shoulder instead.

"That is you, right?" Her voice squeaked. "This isn't like that time in night school when the cadaver fell off the top tray and it's hand landed right on my-"

"It's me." Joe said as quickly as he could. He had no desire to hear the rest of that sentence.

"Oh, good, because that was really embarrassing when that happened, the whole arm went right down my-"

"It's about the Armory!" Joe decided that explanations could be used to protect him from whatever story Robin was about to tell. "Captain Boss comes from a long line of captains. His great-grandfather-"

"-founded the 22th 'American Armory after the battle of Broonstoon."

"Er." Joe frowned. "Almost correct. It was Brownstown."

"Oh, probably. Cap'n has his own way with words."

"Uh..."

Red emergency lights flickered to life along the floor. Joe let his hand drop from Robin's shoulder and moved forward. "The thing is, they went the wrong way. Old-timey Boss charged them backwards out of town, but here's the thing..."

Joe paused at the door to the Morgue, cracking it open just enough so he could peer out and watch the crimson shaded shadows.

"They found something." He continued.

"Ooh, what?"

"I don't know. but it was big and valuable and Canadian and they stole it." Joe pushed the door open and led them into the hall. "They took it back with them and made a fortune with it. Enough to buy a bunch of weapons, build an armory.... and possibly fund an entire police union, if not the police itself."

"Wow!"

"And... I'm not sure, but I think part of that treasure is still here. At least the Canadian commando squad believes it." Joe reached a window and peered outside. "Look, there."

Robin popped up next to him, wrapping her oven mitts over the window sill. "What is that?"

"A rental truck with a tree cutter arm welded to it."

"But... why?"

"Because they crashed the truck the arm used to be on." Joe answered. "And they needed the arm to cut the overhead powerlines to the Station." Joe pointed to a line of cables that was now dangling from the building, throwing sparks out onto the asphalt.

"Okay, but why steal the tree too?"

Joe held up the polaroid picture of the dead soldier's tattoo he'd still had gripped in his left hand. He used his right to point at the smudge on it's surface.

"Because of this. A fingerprint. A Captain Boss fingerprint, the same kind that he smooshed into a piece of gum every day on that damned tree. A fingerprint that they need because I'm betting that when the power is out, the only piece of security between them and the 22th armory is that little fingerprint scanner."

"So they're here to break into the armory!"

"Yup."

"But you told Boss... the armory is gonna be full of... of everyone!"

"Yup." Joe grinned. "C'mon, we need to get to the truck."

"But-"

Joe didn't wait to hear what she said. He made for the door and sprinted across the parking lot, hoping and praying that there wasn't a man left behind as a guard. He made it to his destination without being shot, so he counted his blessings. He pulled out his key ring and cycled through till he found the little window-breaking tool. He set it against the passenger window and turned away.

Ten seconds later he was in the passenger seat. Ten seconds after that he had the truck hood popped, and thirty seconds after that a few important wires and plugs had been carefully rearranged.

Joe smiled and sat down behind the truck, listening to gunshots, shouting, and the roaring hiss of a flamethrower, all accompanied by the strangely jubilant woops and hollers of Captain Boss.

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u/EmmaRM97 Jul 22 '21

<Angitian Anthology>

Chapter 1

It was dark when Clara reached the small village. The only light came from above; the small stationary moon was nearly eclipsed by the larger orbiting moon, giving them an overall lumpy look. Down the stone path, Clara could see the blue flames burning within the entrance of the religious hut. The flame unnerved her; they cast no light on the surrounding surfaces, and made them seem unnatural. The Grove, a name she decided to give these crooked congregational mounds, was impressive in its own dirty way.

The shape of the Grove relied on the support of two large tree trunks; they were a type Clara had never seen. The bark was a simple brown colour with dark green oblong spots scattered throughout the surface, which was mostly smooth. She was uncertain if it grew this way naturally, or if it had been hand-carved by the native Angitians as there were no obvious signs of tools being used against it. The trunks were five or six feet wide, and bent towards one another, curving into a single tree at the centre of the Grove. This single trunk sprang upwards, sprouting yellow leaves just above the tallest structures within the village. The rest of the Grove was formed from thin, wooden fences with vines growing so thick it was impossible to see through.

Inside, the ceilings are higher than Clara expected, sitting several feet above her head. Feeling it was safe to do so within the walls of this structure, she flicked on her lantern. The dull yellow light swam across the room, illuminating small effigies sitting along the walls, an altar at the opposite end, and a few dozen holes in the floor, neatly spaced into a grid. Instead of crafting chairs, it seemed the Angitian’s dug holes for their legs to hang into while they attended religious ceremonies. The holes were separated by an aisle down the centre leading to the altar, which held the blue flames.

These two sources of fire were fed by nothing; they seemed to burn on their own, consuming no fuel, and providing no heat. They were kept inside two glass jars, both of which had their caps sealed with a wooden cork. As Clara drew closer to them, she noticed they seemed to lean towards her, flattening their flame against the glass. The fire licked against the glass towards the hand she had drawn near as if they were touch starved children.

Sceptical of their use, or danger, Clara decided to leave them alone and stepped towards the wall of effigies on her right. These little dolls perplexed her due to the pattern they had been placed in. Two clay dolls, one with a male’s body parts and one with a female’s, sat before a third doll, but this one was made of leaves, twigs, and other plant material. This third doll seemed to either have both male and female characteristics, or neither, yet it seemed entirely random which pairs these two types were placed with. The only other feature detailed on the dolls were their eyes; the clay ones had a pair of painted eyes with a set of double pupils found only on Angitians, one circular sitting atop one horizontal, and the plant dolls had tiny flowers for eyes, one white sitting atop one black.

Clara stepped out of the Grove, and back into the cool night air. Looking around, it seemed like this village was recently abandoned. There were doors left open, wooden tools thrown about, and it was silent. So silent, it seemed even the insects and night birds had decided it best to follow. Clara wondered what had frightened them enough to drop their lives and flee, and if it had been similar to why she fled.

You’re here because of Jo. Clara winced at the thought. She felt a small burn in her chest, the remnants of the rage she had felt towards the village that took Jo’s life, the feeling that drove her to end the lift of that Angitian hunter.

What was its name... Shilo? The pain and fear that washed over her with this thought brought her back to the ritual site. She could see the flowers that had surrounded each section, the purple stones with the glyphs carved in them, and Jo’s lifeless body staring at her with blank eyes. They both lie in a warm pool of Jo’s blood, Clara physically unable to move, and descending the hill they lie atop is the Angitian hunter. This is what she was running from; she didn’t have a destination to reach or a person to find, she was simply running, hoping to become someone else. No, she was hoping to go back to who she used to be. When Jo died, she turned into someone else, something else, a creature hellbent on revenge who was willing to take out anything in her way. She was terrified of that person and ran away to make sure it never emerged again.

1

u/Xacktar Jul 23 '21

Hello EmmaRM97 and Welcome to Serial Sunday!

First off, I want to say you have a good grasp of description. You present us with very clear, detailed images that made it easy for me to know where we were and how the character was moving.

That said, (for future reference), When beginning something longer-form like this, I would look at bringing in the Why of why we are here in earlier. This will anchor the reader, helping them understand the importance of the things being described and why the main character is there and interested in them.

As for some more nitpicky crit:

I noticed a lot of early usage of semicolons for you sentences, which in one or two sentences is fine, but in more than that it may be a sign to break up your complex sentences into smaller chunks. Just something you may want to look at in order to keep the flow of your story concise. (reading your story aloud can help with a lot of these, as when you start running out of breath you realize a section might be a bit too long or complex.)

to end the lift of that Angitian hunter.

Small typo here, I think. 'Lift' was supposed to be 'Life,' I assume?

And that's all I got for now. Welcome aboard! Hope this helps!

1

u/OneSidedDice Jul 24 '21

I really like the detailed imagery you use to describe the abandoned village--I easily envisioned the whole setting, and could feel suspense building as Clara explored it.

Toward the end, I found this sentence a bit jarring:

Clara wondered what had frightened them enough to drop their lives and flee, and if it had been similar to why she fled.

You skip from *why she fled* to why she is here, which threw me a bit. By the end I think I have a good picture of what happened in the past, though I'm unsure why fleeing from her past brings her to the village where the events took place (or if it's the same village) and why the villagers may have had a similar reason to flee. Is she looking for a specific person or thing, or for atonement, or further revenge? I have the feeling that will be revealed soon, but a hint of her motivation for this visit might help tie those elements together.It's an intriguing story, and I'm looking forward to the next part!

2

u/chunksisthedog Jul 23 '21

<The Stone Wielder>

Jeson and Dast wove their way through the line of giant trees. There were parts where Jeson had to turn sideways to get through the grove but for the most part the walk was easy. After several minutes of walking, he noticed that he did not hear any sound other than them. He looked up and saw the shadow of a four-legged creature.

The shadow appeared to be following him. Jeson tested this by zig-zagging, moving forward really fast and then slowing his pace. One time he walked back several paces and made a wide loop to get back behind Dast. The shadow always followed him.

“Naer beast.” Dast said.

“What?” Jeson asked.

“Naer beast.” Dast replied. “They live in trees. They know who is and isn’t supposed to come in.”

“How do they know who is not supposed to come in?” Jeson asked.

Dast pointed to her ring and kept walking.

They cleared the trees, and Jeson could tell they were no longer in the Swamp. The ground was firm and dry. Bushes and grass were short and green. He felt much safer just being on firm land and away from the shadow.

“What’s he like?” Jeson asked. “The Stone Prince. What’s he like?”

“He’s nice. He protects us from the Academy.” Dast replied. “Right now he is working with the King for us to become our own kingdom. He doesn’t ever lie or hide things from us.”

“That cannot be right.” Jeson said. “Everyone lies. Everyone hides things from people. We need to have our secrets. No one is perfect.”

Dast furrowed her brow. “No one has ever caught him in a lie. Like ya said before, he is over 200 cycles. Someone would have caught him in something by now. We know he’s not perfect, but he’s pretty damn close.”

“What happens if I choose to not be part of this? What if I want to go back?” Jeson asked.

Dast kept her back to him. “I don’t know why ya would, but if ya do then I take ya back.”

“That is it?” Jeson asked.

“That’s it. Ya go home, but ya can never return here.” She said turning around. “Ya tainted right now. Ya have the dust flowing through ya. When we arrive ya be cleansed. If ya leave, that taint will return.”

Jeson sat down. “Because I would be using the Academy stones again instead of his.”

“No.” Dast snapped. “Because ya cannot be cleansed outside of his city. He is the only one that can save us. He is the only one that can remove the taint.”

Jeson stared at Dast. “Why does he not share that with the Academy?”

Dast’s eyes narrowed. Her focus became only on him. “Because the Academy is evil. Look at what they did to ya.”

Jeson stood up. “They taught me, sheltered me, fed me, and gave me a job. What evil did they do to me?”

Dast rolled her shoulders back and expanded her chest. “For starters they stole ya from your mother.”

“I did not know about that.” Jeson said.

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong.” Dast replied. “If a man steals from ya but you don't need the money, does it make it any less of a crime? Does it make it any less wrong?”

Jeson sat back down. “Your example is flawed. If the money he took is to feed his starving family, then no, it is not wrong. Fernas keeps a way for wielders to not be corrupted to himself as a bargaining chip. That to me is wrong.”

“Stand up.” Dast commanded. “I’m takin ya back. Ya obviously aren’t ready to accept the truth.”

Jeson stayed seated. “I want to meet him. I want to hear what he has to say, and I want to understand your points. Maybe I am closed off.” He stood up. “But you refuse to hear any other truth than your own. It’s been that way since we met. I’m not that way. I know that the Academy is not perfect.” Jeson dusted off his pants. “I know that Veras can be self-righteous, and maybe he has done wrong. The difference is I am prepared to accept that, and hear the other side.”

Dast felt a fire burning inside her. “Ya know nothing about me or him. Ya just like Veras. Think ya know everything. Looking down on us. Thinking of us as lesser creatures.”

Jeson started to speak but a vine wrapped around his throat. She saw Jeson’s face and lips turn purple. “This is how helpless we feel.”

Dast released the vine when she saw Jeson’s eyes roll back. He crashed to the ground and did not move. “Get up.” she commanded. Jeson did not move. “Get UP.” Dast rolled Jeson over and saw he was not breathing.

Dast’s looked around. “Help!” She knew that no one was around but she did not know what else to do. “HELP!” She pounded on his chest.

Dast saw a white flash and suddenly could not move.

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u/OneSidedDice Jul 23 '21 edited Nov 27 '21

<Looking Homeward>

Part 2 (Part 1)

At sundown, Russ and Larry left the diner and walked slowly through the work camp. There wasn’t much else to do in the evening, unless your idea of socializing was limited to guzzling homemade liquor, playing craps, and impromptu wrestling matches. They were both a few years older than most of their campmates, and were happy to be left out of the evening activities.

“So, I was working construction until about three months ago, you know?” Larry said. Russ walked beside the taller man and nodded, listening to Larry’s deep voice and the crunch of gravel under their boots. Mobile LED towers flashed on at the camp perimeter, painting stark shadows across the rough ground.

“My last day was when the Conservation Bureau inspector came, and yep, sure enough,” Larry continued, “seawater had contaminated the whole dang water table. Company paid us a half day, took their trucks and bugged out. Must’ve been the last new development in dry land Florida; never could pick up a job after that, you know, man?” Larry’s dark, lanky hair barely moved as he shook his head. “I’d've flipped burgers or whatever, but the city had started evacuating. So, I lost my apartment, and the medical insurance outfit sold off my stuff and put me on Repay. That’s how I got shipped up here. Russ, man, you’re all right, but this place is the pits, you know? P. I. T. S., mama used to say.” He sighed and lapsed into silence.

“I hear you, Larry,” Russ said with a sigh of his own. He spotted something unusual and pointed. “Hey look, the Comfy Couch is free; let’s grab it.” Russ pointed to a pile of broken cinder blocks that had been cobbled into something resembling an outdoor sofa. Larry settled onto it like it was built for him, while Russ’ legs dangled and a jagged block wedged against his back. “This sucks,” Russ said, “but it’s better than being stuck in the barracks with a bunch of sweaty guys arguing about nothing.”

“Amen to that, brother,” Larry agreed. “What’d you do before you got dumped here?”

“Surface water desalination. Sounds high-tech, right? I thought so, and when my college shut down, I went for it. Hundred-ten degree days, walking through poison ivy, spraying hydrogel on ponds and canals. Getting eaten by mosquitos, running from gators and Canada geese, then going back to skim it all back up at the end of the day. It paid better than this enviro-reclamation gig, but it was hell. I used to be a little overweight, you know? Had to punch new holes in my belt. After Hurricane Rosario hit in June, I quit and drove north to find my folks, but my car microlease got cancelled for being in the storm.” Russ shrugged. “That was about a mile from here, so for now, I’m stuck.”

“Hey man, you got a car?”

Russ shook his head. “Expired; the app won’t unlock it now. It’s waiting for repo in a parking garage in town.”

“Huh. Battery still got a charge?” Larry was suddenly animated.

“I guess so, why?”

“Got a phone?” Larry asked. Russ nodded, happy to see Larry’s mood improve. “Well, you can still use the app to make emergency calls, and there’s a code that’ll unlock full data—you know about that?”

“Really?” Russ asked. He thought about it. “That’s… a lot better than paying eight of these stupid ‘Freedom Points’ for five minutes of AmazOnline. What’s the code? Wait—is it, you know, legal? I want to do it, but I get good Freedom Points for not having a record.”

Larry shrugged. “I don’t think it’s actually illlegal, you know, man? It’s like, kind of a gray area. Just something I picked up workin’ construction.”

“Man, I haven’t talked to my parents in months, since they headed back to Pennsylvania. They said they’d call if anything happened, so I’ve kept my phone charged, but it’s just too expensive to reach out.”

“Well, let me put your cognitive dissonance to rest,” Larry said. He laughed at the look Russ gave him. “Yeah, bud, I know what it means. I tested into senior high and finished. Could’ve gone on to State, but with mama’s med debt, I couldn’t get a loan, so I’ve just been workin’ ever since. Anyway, the insurer ain’t tracing that little bit of emergency data once they lock you out of the car, because now the car belongs to the salvager. That’s free data you can use at their expense. I’ll show you how, if I can make a quick call from your phone. Deal?”

Russ looked around at the dingy trailers they called home. He felt excited for the first time in weeks. “The app connects by Bluetooth. Phone’s in my pocket; let’s go, man,” he said. They hopped off the couch and headed for the gate.

“Got your bracelets?” the bored camp guard asked. They raised their hands, metal bands glinting in the camp lights. The guard nodded. “You’ll need ‘em to get back in; if you’re going to Nineveh, be careful.”

(WC 848)

Part 3

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u/Zetakh Jul 23 '21

You've got a really good follow-up to your first chapter here, OneSided! I adore the world building you layer into the conversation here, it's a very subtle and natural way to give exposition about the world and circumstances, and you're absolutely nailing it. This really feels like the worst sort of nightmare society where corporations own everything, one way or another - like a return to the Age of Robber Barons, and I love it.

The one thing I noticed that bothered me was this passage here:

What’s the code? Wait—is it, you know, legal?

The realization here in the middle of the bigger sentence led to a bit of a start-stop in the flow of the dialogue. The question and sudden new thought is a bit abrupt - perhaps the inquiry about the code could come later, in the next sentence block where he mentions his reasons for wanting to get his data working again?

Very minor nitpick, though. Like I said, you've got a great thing going here, and I'm very keen to see where it goes.

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u/OneSidedDice Jul 24 '21

Hey, thank you very much! Having gotten part 1 under my belt, I forced myself to slow down and polish this part, and try to keep in mind the feedback I received from the last one. Of course, the awkward passage you mentioned is the one bit I could never quite work out to my satisfaction LOL - I think I changed that part every time I read it. That right there should be a sign to me that I need to go about it another way, I think. Thanks for reading and commenting!

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u/FyeNite Jul 25 '21 edited Jul 25 '21

A really nice story. I liked the dialogue you have here. It really gives each character their personalities.

I also really liked the casual conversation whilst also setting up the events for the next chapter.

Now I might just be missing something obvious, but I don't quite understand the comment about the cognitive dissonance. It seems a little forced, like they wouldn't actually say that naturally. From what I know, you don't have to force the theme word into the writing if that's what you were going for.

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u/OneSidedDice Jul 25 '21

Thanks, Fye! A little encouragement goes a long way, with or without the critical bits :)

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u/ReverendWrites Aug 08 '21

Hi dice, I'm catching up on your serial and I really enjoy the worldbuilding you're doing in this disturbingly believable dystopia.

I especially wanted to point out one line: "Hurricane Rosario, back in June". I loved that. It takes a moment to realize how big a sign that is that things have gone horribly wrong: to have an R-named hurricane that early in the season.

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u/OneSidedDice Aug 08 '21

Thanks, Reverend, I appreciate the encouragement. I didn’t know if folks would pick up on that detail; it was intentional, as part of the ecological and sociological breakdowns behind the story.

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u/Zetakh Jul 23 '21 edited Jul 24 '21

<The Royal Sisters>

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom in the shadow of the Frostmist Mountains, ruled by a young king and queen.

The royal couple were honorable, driven, and madly in love. Together, they ruled with justice, honor, and compassion, and under their guidance, the kingdom prospered.

However, one thing weighed heavily upon them, for as the years went on, their love, strong as it was, did not give them an heir. They sought remedies from all across the land, but nothing could give them the child they so desperately craved.

Finally, as nobles grumbled and commoners whispered, they attempted one final ploy, and together they made the treacherous journey through the Frozen Pass, up to the very highest peaks of Frostmist.

There, they sought an audience with the Dragon Queen. They pleaded with her, promising all the gold and jewels in the kingdom, if only she could use her magic to help them overcome their misfortune.

The Dragon Queen refused any such treasures, for she had no need of it. She told them she sensed the love and longing they held, and so would grant them their wish - but that the cost would not be for them to bear. For any heir she gave them would always bear the mark of her magic, and would be just as much hers as they would be theirs.

The royals accepted without hesitation, pledging to love any child of theirs no matter what.

And so, in the fullness of time, the queen gave birth to twin daughters. The eldest bore her mark in her golden eyes, with eyes like slits, and in her hair, the locks of purest silver, sparkling in the light.

The youngest, though - she was as much dragon as she was human. With reptilian muzzle, long sinuous tail, sharp fangs and claws, and clad in glossy, golden scales.

True to their word, the king and queen loved them both dearly, and were overjoyed to finally have the children they so had longed for.

The girls grew fast, inseparable - but their destinies would soon diverge, through no fault of their own…

---

"Aurelia! Where are you?"

Aurelia suppressed her giggles as her sister entered the room, clad head-to-toe in one of those ridiculously frilly get-ups Governess Agatha was so fond of. She peered down from atop her well-chosen hiding place, silent and still - only betrayed by her twitching tail.

Shireen, her sister, turned slowly, looking about the room with her face scrunched-up with concentration. "Oh, I see what this is! The fierce dragon has gone into hiding, has she? Well, ready or not, here I come! Princess Shireen will find her, and tame the terrible beast!"

She crept along the room, to all of Aurelia's favorite hiding places - under the bed, in the pile of toys-

"Hah!" she yanked the curtains wide, to see nothing but the courtyard beyond the windows.

Aurelia couldn't hold the giggles then, the sibilant laughter barely muzzled by her hands clamping down on her snout.

Shireen whirled around, fixating on the huge wardrobe Aurelia was crouched upon. "I heard that! I've got you now, dragon!" She ran across the floor and ripped the doors wide open - to find it empty of anything except clothes. "Huh?"

"Yah!" Aurelia yelled, and leapt from her perch, pouncing onto her sister's shoulders. Shireen yelped and toppled, the two rolling across the floor in a laughing tangle of scales and frilly dresses, before crashing to a stop in Aurelia's hoard of piled toys.

"I have you now, princess!" Aurelia laughed, pinning her sister beneath herself. "Surrender, or I'll eat you!"

"Never, foul beast!" Shireen retorted, giggling just as much and pushing at Aurelia's scaly muzzle. "I am not bested yet!"

"Oh yes you are! You are mine, princess, and I will devour-"

"Aurelia! What on earth do you think you are doing!? Let your sister go this instant!"

Aurelia flinched and leapt back, scrabbling over the floor to hide beneath her bed as Governess Agatha entered the room, her face like thunder. "Shireen, are you alright? The beast didn't hurt you, did she?"

"She's not a beast!" Shireen protested, sitting up. "We were just playing!"

"She has claws and fangs and lord knows what, she should know better. Look, your dress is ruined! Come along." Agatha roughly grabbed Shireen's wrist, and started dragging her out of the room. "And you, Aurelia, are confined to your room for the remainder of the night. If you make any noise, there will be no supper! Is that clear?"

Aurelia's reply was low and defeated. "...Yes, Governess."

Agatha didn't deign to reply. The last thing Aurelia saw before the door was slammed shut was the tearful eyes of her sister, as Shireen was dragged along out of the room, a mouthed I'm sorry all she could offer.

Aurelia's own tears didn't come until the lock turned, sealing her in.

They smoked and boiled as they landed on the rough stone of the castle floor, leaving pitted marks in the rock.

Adding to the scores that were already there.

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u/WorldOrphan Jul 24 '21

I love everything about this story. I love the fairy-tale beginning. I love the scene with the two sisters playing hide and seek. I love how you have characterized the two of them, and Aurelia's slight animalistic, dragonlike behavior, also that she has a "hoard" of toys. And I feel so bad for Aurelia at the end of the story!

My only critique: I would like to know how old the two girls are in this story. That would help me picture it better, and give a framework for their behavior and the governess's reaction to it. Also, are they twins? The sentence "And so, in the fullness of time, the queen gave birth to two daughters" makes it sound like there was just one pregnancy and birth. But you also say Shireen is older. Are they twins, and Shireen was born first, or is Shireen several years older?

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u/OneSidedDice Jul 24 '21

Hey Zetakh--I want to echo WorldOrphan's support for the fairytale beginning. Whenever I see that, I hope for something that blows away the standard tropes, and you've done a great job of that here. I was also wondering about the girls' ages, and as I was reading, I pictured them being about 7 or 8 from their actions and having a hoard of toys, though their dialog made them sound older.

The story flows nicely, and you didn't leave any grammar or logical flaws to critique. The closest I can come is wondering why parents who love their children so much would place them under a horrible governess who clearly favors one over the other. But, I suspect, that's a matter for a future installment?

Great job!

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u/Zetakh Jul 24 '21

Thanks Dice! Aye, the balance between word and deed when writing the young is always tricky. Here I imagined their solid vocabulary to be a byproduct of their privileged and well-educated upbringing, but it is a very tight rope to walk!

And yes, Hagatha will get her proper explanation as the series progresses :D

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u/stickfist Jul 24 '21

This is a lovely start and I'm hooked to read more! I liked how you kept the reader with Aurelia, letting us see joy and disappointment in a tight little chapter.

My only nitpick is more personal preference with the introduction. I felt that the end of it was a little too heavy handed, that you could let the reader draw their own conclusions about the consequences of dragon human siblings.

Thanks for writing, I'm looking forward to more!

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u/FyeNite Jul 25 '21 edited Jul 25 '21

Very much a fairytale. I'm waiting for the fairy godmother and prince to show up. I really like the clear childish personalities of the children.

So I'd like to ask when the "qbnormalities" started. Do they start at birth or slowly over time. Because I feel like the king and queen would see it coming otherwise. But I don't know.

Also, how could you do that. I thought this was supposed to be a happy fairytale.

Great chapter.

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u/Zetakh Jul 25 '21

Oh, the girls looking they way they do was very much from birth, so the parents are very much aware. We'll see more of how they interact in later chapters!

As for happiness, well... The really old fairy tales were more cautionary than happy >:)

Glad you liked it, Fye!

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u/OldBayJ Jul 25 '21

Zet! I'm so glad you decided to join Serial Sunday. Also, I got to read this in Campfire and it was so much fun. This is a wonderful first chapter and I'm excited to see how it progresses. I really like the way you started out very fairytale-esque, it really helped set the scene. The back and forth between the two sisters was playful and very enjoyable.

Now, as I'm not familiar with royalty of any kind, I don't really know what a Governess is, or what her role is. I do find her character very intriguing, though.

Very well done, Zet!

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u/WPHelperBot Aug 06 '21 edited Oct 21 '23

This is installment 1 of The Royal Sisters by Zetakh

Previous Chapter / All Serial Sunday stories / Next chapter

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u/nobodysgeese Oct 09 '22

You do formal language so well, the bit at the beginning has the feel of a fairytale perfectly.

I'd forgotten about Agatha; at least the dragons will have an appetizer for when they eat the Godfreys.