I vote for random insertion of chapters by people whenever they have something to contribute, it may move things along faster.

I told you before that this is not a good idea.
What if I was writing a ten page chapter and someone added a 4 page one in the meantime bringing changing to the timeline. That would totally mess my chapter up.
So how do we work this problem out?

You could always just write a flashback for your own character. I guess Tier and Alexander have plenty of history.
I did it myself for a couple of times. That keeps things going as well and it won't interupt our story. As a matter of fact, I'm working on one right now.

How about the "I got something" system? Somebody makes a post when they think they've got a good idea. If somebody else wants to make the next chapter, they can talk it over with the other party.

I still like the turn system but it seems that the writers involved haven't committed themselves to the story. Besides which, I think communication is a problem. How are we going to merge the separate storylines? Are we planning on killing any characters (imho, we should)? I'm not suggesting that we lay down a definite plotline but I really think we need to communicate more with the other writers involved.

I tend to talk to people over mIRC when something comes up. But yeah, we used to have a thread for the united story. Why don't we use that anymore?

That's a good point. A mixture of random and turn chapters would be an ideal situation, allowing flexibility and progress.

If this is what the majority wants, then its fine by me.
I will post a flashback chapter somewhere between now and three days from here.

Well now the majority hasn't spoken yet. It looks like 2 to 2. We probably shouldn't change anything.

I vote for DD's idea.

The man from Earian, part 1. (flashback scene)

He had kept track of the days he had spent in solitude in the beginning. Just to give himself something to do. Time ment little to a madman however and in no more then two years he had given up. He welcomed in the thief that came to collect his sanity.
There was no other choice then to let the maelstrom of incoherent thoughts wash over him.
As a stream of lunacy in which to baptize the insane.
In the beginning there was Estella to keep him company and teach him all he had to know about his new found so called life.
She had told him a vampire was not able to take his own life, for the need for his kind to survive was to great. The vampire was considered a threat to each and every other form of life in the known universe. And therefor many were out to hunt them down. And kill them all.
He had cursed himself enough over the fact that he could not kill himself.
The many attempts he had made had failed miserably, for his entire body shut down whenever he tried anything to put it in danger. In the eve of the new moon. Exactly seven years since he had died. Louie could be found in the garden of his mansion.
He sat next to the oak his parents had plant for him when he was born. A common customary among the wealthy residents of the Peddleburg area.
He watched out over the lake. Memmories of better times were all he had now.
His body shook and he curled up to protect himself against the cold. He often looked around to see if someone was coming towards him.
The town has stopped growing and the few people that stayed behind believed the ghost stories that went on around the mansion. There was nothing to gain for them so they stayed away. Those new to town however, the few that were, knew not.
And so it came to be that a stranger arrived at the mansion. Seeking shelter from the cold night. The open gate gave him the idea that he was welcome here. A brown robe which seemed to be made out of drapes covered his old and wrinkeled body against the winter cold.
A smile on his old face when he noticed the light behind one of the windows.
Louie had shot up when he had heard the man enter his gate, one of the many traits of a vampire were the enhancement of his senses. Without a sound he rang along the wall and peered around the corner to examine his unexpected guest.
“Prey.” He startled himself by his own whisper. It had been so long since he had heard his own voice. The rats and the other small animals in and around the mansion had put his hunger to rest in the years before. He had not want to leave the mansion in the hope that Estella would return. And here it was. A meal on wheels right in front of him, ready to be devoured.
“You know, it is very rude to let an old man wait in the cold, vampyre.”
A voice ripend by age and surprisingly calm for someone who knew there was a vampire only a few yards away from him. Louie stood behind the corner for a while, looking over the old rabbit. The image of his body rotting in the ground beneath him gave him second thoughts.
His new guest leaned on his cane and kept looking at him with eyes that seemed to take the time to take in every small molecule in his line of sight. Louie walked out from behind the wall and bared his fangs at the rabbit. “There’s no need for this vampyre. There shall be no bloodshed tonight. Come on in.”
Louie was puzzeled. This rabbit was supposed to be scared of him, whatever happend to him being at the top of the food chain?
“You must have many questions vampyre, let us go inside.”

----


I will continue this later, but I figured a flashback should not be to long.
The man from Earian is important to a side story-line thing I want to create, it will only be two or three parts and it will have something to do with the rest of the story. Who is next?

Ooh! Nice chapter!

Susan was not feeling her best. But she was the hostess, and the guests needed their carrot slices. She chopped them slowly and carefully, fearful that her usual efficient chopping might lead to a nasty accident. She didn't see Majo come in from the hall, and only noticed her by the time she was at the back door.
"Hey, what's the rush?"
Majo stopped. Without looking at Susan, she said "Nothing."
"Is something wrong?"
"No, I just need some fresh air."
Majo opened the door and walked out, letting it slam behind her. Susan was a little perturbed, but shrugged it off. She took the sliced carrots through to her guests, then went to fetch Yakira's soup.

Alexander was strolling along beside Peddleburg Creek. The moonlight shone on the rippling water. In the distance, he could see a scattering of lights telling him how near to Greenthorpe he was. As peaceful as the scene seemed, Alexander was well aware that he was entirely alone, in the middle of nowhere, late at night. His transceiver beeped. This was something of a surprise. Reception had been so poor since he'd arrived in Greenthorpe, he'd not heard much from headquarters. Now, out here in the wilderness, he was picking up a message. He pushed a button and it played in his ear.
"Investigative reporter due in Greenthorpe. Name is Alice Frowley. Represents Carrotus Daily News Channel. Potential global television broadcast. Target is the recent Class 7 Type EB incident in Greenthorpe. Mr. Garand, you are instructed to ensure that no credible account is made available for broadcast. ETA 2330 hours."
An electronic voice took over and informed him that the message was sent 7 hours, 3 minutes previously. Alexander looked at his watch. Just past midnight. She'd be in Greenthorpe by now. Alexander broke into a run.

The soup was sloshing around in the bowl more than Susan would have liked, and she watched it intently as she ascended the stairs. With her eyes focussed downwards, the first thing she saw on the landing was a pair of feet. Her gaze shifted upwards. Her balancing act finally subsided and half a bowl's worth of soup found its way down her shirt.
Yakira took the bowl out of Susan's hands and rose it to her lips. Several large gulps later, the bowl was empty, and she handed it back.
"Um. Okay," said Susan.

If Alice Frowley didn't know any better she'd have sworn she was under attack from the restless spirits of Greenthorpe. The video camera had stopped working, and it had taken three hours for her cameraman to fix. When she'd checked the morning's footage, she'd found that it had all been erased. And, of course, all good things come in threes. Her notebook containing all the details of her exclusive was nowhere to be seen. She'd torn her room in the tavern apart, she'd completely emptied the news van, but it had vanished off the face of Carrotus.
She only had the afternoon to complete the story before she had to leave. Still, at least she'd get this interview in the can.
"Mr. Dalton, what's it like to live in Greenthorpe?"
"Life in Greenthorpe is great. Everybody knows everybody else, to some extent, and so we have a wonderful community spirit. We don't have a problem with crime. We're in one of the most idyllic parts of Peddleburg. The roads are quiet, so you can ride bicycles or horses without worry..."
"It certainly sounds nice. But are you familiar with the rumours surrounding your town?"
"No, I'm afraid not. What rumours?"
"Rumours of attacks by mythical creatures?"
"Attacks by mythical creatures?"
"There have been a number of suspicious deaths here recently, and..."
"And you thought you'd make a story about how we're all so superstitious out here in the sticks? That's just sick."
"No, I just..."
"This interview is over. Good day, madam."

Susan found Yakira sitting on the terrace in the back garden. It was a clear, lukewarm day, and Yakira was watching a small bird flitting around the bushes.
"Hello," said Susan. "How are you feeling now?"
"Not bad."
"Have you seen Majo. Nobody's seen her since yesterday."
"I'm afraid not."
"Mind if I just...?" Susan held up her medical case.
"No, go ahead."
Susan checked her pulse, her blood pressure, and her temperature. All normal.
"It certainly seems you've made quite a rapid recovery. If I didn't know any better..."
"What?"
"Oh, never mind."
If there's anything Susan had learnt over the last few days, it's that she didn't actually know any better.

"So, how did it go?" asked Alexander.
"She feels like a terrible person. I didn't like doing that," replied Dalton.
"No. It isn't always easy. But you've done the right thing."
"I know."

Alice was in a better mood now. She'd been interviewing liars half her life, and Dalton was one of the worst she'd come across. If only the refugees had been as bad. Luckily, she'd finally found one she may be able to get some answers out of.
"So, what's your name?"
"Charlie."
"And how old are you, Charlie?"
"I'm seven and three-quarters years old."
"Well, you are very grown-up, aren't you? Now, Charlie, can you tell me what happened here four nights ago?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers about that."
"But I'm not a stranger. You've seen me on television, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"So, how can I be a stranger?"
"I don't know."
"That's because I'm not a stranger."
"I suppose."
"So, do you want to tell me what happened?"
"Okay."
Tony entered the room. He had been out in the hall, changing a light bulb, when he'd heard the exchange.
"Hello Charlie, who's this?"
"This is Alice Frowley from the television."
"Oh? And what are you talking about?"
"We're talking about the big fight that happened a few days ago."
"Really? Well, your dinner's almost ready, and you don't want it to get cold, do you?"
Charlie ran out of the room. Alice glared at Tony.
"What are you people hiding?" she asked.
"Look," Tony whispered conspiratorially, "His parents had a huge argument a few days ago."

In the staff room of the Cholmondely & Smith offices, three people were watching the local CDNC broadcast.
"The town of Greenthorpe has fallen victim to a large-scale internet prank. Greenthorpe, where a derelict mansion was recently restored to house refugees to Diamondus, is just south of Almsbury. The rumours range from the mansion being haunted to a large werewolf invasion of the town that allegedly took place a few days ago. The rumours have been widely dismissed as an attempt by political activists to discredit Gary Parker, who was a Councillor in Greenthorpe before he became Governor. Mr. Parker has dismissed the rumours as 'Absurd'. And that's all from Peddleburg Press, join us tomorrow at the same time."
Jack Cholmondely switched off the television.
"Gary, you are doing a terrible job of keeping things under wraps," said Ranford Smith.
"I agree," said Cholmondely. "I think this incident reinforces our conclusions vis-a-vis our association with you."
"And what are your conclusions, gentlemen?" asked Gary.
"That we should terminate all association forthwith." replied Smith.
"I see. Well, gentlemen, my plans from here on out do not require participation from either of you. If you do not desire a seat at the top table, that is your loss."
"We don't believe there will be a top table," said Smith, "let alone any seats. So we rather think our decision will be our gain. You owe us a lot of money, Parker."
"Oh, it's 'Parker' now, is it? Well, I don't think you need to worry about your money."
The blows were swift and immaculately timed. The Cholmondely & Smith legal team ceased to practise.

Their bodies lay there for three days before Estella found them.

(Apologies for the British spelling)

Wow, nice cliffhanger there. Nice work.

Slay, I love your flashbacks. WANT MORE.

I am next, correct?

Indeed, that appears to be the case.

I have a flashback for use when nobody has anything to type.

My life is currently interfering with my ability to work. Skip me for now, and I'll post after that.

Well, I could get started on the next chapter since nobody else seems to want to.

Doubble Dutch, it would be nice if you'd post that flashback. I enjoy reading those and encourage people to write more of them. (Then again, they don't seem to write much at all )

Is everyone alright with me going next and posting a flashback followed by a chapter? (It could get rather lengthy though, I hope that's no problem.)

Fun fact: DD only writes after 1am in the morning, this explains a lot.

* * *

A long time ago...


"Hey c'mon! What are you? Rabbits or shellians?" Adrian heard the yell and fumed under his hard hat. "Fine for you ya blowhard; you're not the one risking life and limb!" Technically that wasn't true Adrian knew, but still this was risky and boring work. He stared at the pile of rubble in front of him, then at the hillside it was half buried in. Judging by the shape of the former building it had been some sort of barracks; so it probably didn't have anything worth salvaging in it, but you never knew, once he'd happened upon a stash of jewels in an abandoned kitchen, and there were stories of guys striking it lucky in this business. He set the explosive charge and stepped back. That was all of them. He scrabbled over the already evacuated rubble to the safety zone, called out the warning signal and detonated the charges.

There was the usual loud boom and the building partially collapsed. The machines moved in to salvage any metallic fragments found. Amidst the noise and commotion Adrian moved in, now was the perfect time to scavenge anything valuable. Technically of course he was supposed to report any finds, but why should other people benefit from his hard work? Some of the things you found were valuable too; there was the inevitable gold and jewels, and plenty of spent ammunition, not surprising considering they were digging up an old war zone, but some of the most valuable stuff were the antiques; ornaments, jewelry even odd things like old jam jars; after a hundred and fifty years in the ground they were suddenly worth a lot to the right people.

(-); the building had been filled with debris; all the floors had collapsed; probably due to a bomb hit; there would be little of value inside and excavation would take up most of the metal inside. He removed his earmuffs and trudged back toward the explosives shack. It would take several hours of course; there were bound to be the remains of rabbits inside which would need to be collected and sent off for proper reburial. Then rather suddenly, a large piece of wall tilted and tipped over, nearly crushing several evacuators. "Hey c'mon people! Let's be careful huh? This is a salvage site not a playground!"

Utterly terrible! People didn't know their butt from their elbow around here! Adrian stalked off to the explosive and equipment shed, there was a technically illegal bottle of whiskey there and he needed to destroy the evidence. He didn't make it halfway across the quarry before the yelling started. It was quiet and confused at first, but rapidly grew in intensity. Several people rushed past Adrian, then a few seconds later ran off in the other direction. Someone started shooting and Adrian got worried, guns weren't allowed, but lots of guys carried them 'just in case' After several more shots were fired there was a final strangled scream, then silence.

Adrian realized he'd been crouched behind a pile of scrap metal; he'd nicked his leg somehow too, and it was bleeding profusely. The right thing to do would be to back off, call for backup, then approach the scene with caution; raids were rare on salvage parties, but that didn't mean they could be any less deadly. However Adrian was incurably curious so he cautiously approached the attack site. At first there was little to see aside from discarded equipment, he kept hidden, crouching behind machinery or rubble until a rather warm, wet sensation underfoot made him look down. He quickly wished he hadn't when he saw what, or rather, who he was standing in. He staggered backwards in shock, staring at the soft red mess that had once been his supervisor. There wasn't much left. He shouldn't have done that either, now he had an undisturbed view of the site and what had happened to the people there. About a dozen rabbits hadn't made it, though it was hard to tell from the scattered remains. Adrian slipped on somebody's arm and was almost sick. He turned to run and was knocked to the ground.

Adrian stared up in sheer wordless horror at what was now on top of him. What it was was hard to tell; its features shifted and twisted into horrible shapes, but it was vaguely shellian shaped. It snarled, splattering Adrian with unidentifiable gore, then giggled. It was a horrible sound, half choked and eerie, something from a broken mind. It stared at him for a few seconds as if trying to figure out what he was, then spoke. It was a strangled, weak voice and sounded as if it hadn't been used in a long time.

"The... date... what date?"

Adrian panicked "Monday! It's Monday!" He tried to get up but the creature was pushing him down with a force that seemed greater than its weight would allow. It snarled again. "Day! Month! Year!" Adrian told it, and it sat still for a long time. As it did it got less and less repulsive until it finally dawned on Adrian that it really was a shellian sitting on him; its appearance however did not do anything to sate his fears. While it was distracted Adrian took the chance to wiggle out from under it and hide behind a pile of rubble. It was still sitting there, staring blankly into space when he dared look, several minutes later. It was obviously some sort of zombie, silver garlic would stop it right? (-), no, hang on...

It was giggling to itself; rocking backwards and forwards slightly, and gigglingand muttering to itself! Despite his terror, or maybe because of it, Adrian leant closer to try and hear what it was saying. The words were very indistinct and slurred, as if from a drunk, or someone half awake. "Hah hah! One hundred and fifty four years! Hee hee hee!" The words were repeated over and over, shot out like bullets from a machine gun so fast as to almost be unintelligible, finally the creature stood stock still and let out a hideous yell before dashing of into the distance way too fast for something dead to be moving.

There were shouts behind him, someone had sounded the alarm. Adrian turned around and walked stiffly toward the rapidly approaching figures. Right now he wanted to drink and to forget; when the asked what had happened he told them it was a raid by bandits.

ooh, bloody Did they dig up an undead turtle from the ancient battleground, who had been buried 154 years? cool :P

Err, is this my Adrian?

EDIT: Forgot to mention, I like the chapter.

No, different Adrian, sorry, forgot about yours. This is a long long time ago flashback.

Ok, might want to clarify then. Just to avoid confusion, y'know?

I'm pretty sure I did, it says right at the top of the thingy, besides, people asked for a flashback.

Very good flashback. It provided a nice read. I guess I shall get started on my flashback + Chapter now.

You still alive, Slay?

*claims 666th reply*

666th is mine, since everyone knows that mods are evil.

I hesitate to suggest skipping Slay, since he's really the driving force behind this whole idea. Shall we wait a little longer? :P

Might as well. It's not like were going to do anything else. Dang, this story is long! I'm getting dizzy...

It's been like a month... might as well continue on.

Working on it, give me another three days.
I haven't been doing anything for a while because I noticed nobody seemed to care about this thing anymore. It's been a month since anyone has even said anything in this topic. That really takes the motivation out of the writing.

Very true. I don't know if there's really a solution to it though.

*says something in the topic*

I kinda pictured this story as something we did for ourselves though. I mean, recognition is nice and all, but it's not really that important in my opinion. Although on a professional level it leads to monies.

I don't want to be the one to say this, but...

Perhaps we should be thinking about moving towards an ending?

Ending? Are you kidding, we haven't even hit the climax of the story yet!

I agree once more with you, Slay, but it is rather difficult at this point to drop authors (and their characters) once they have grown bored with the idea.

For the record, I fully intend to write my chapter when my turn comes.

I'm working on it and I'm almost done.
And I agree with Coppertop, we can't really start thinking about an ending yet even though I'm going to try and do my best to move it along.

We're definitly not ready for an ending. Right now it's still building up. To make the climax chapter and an ending chapter the same feels waay too rushed. An ending will come though, as we're probably about halfway done at this point.

First draft is done guys. Just need to put this into the computer (Since I enjoy writing stuff by hand first.) and I have to take out several errors and maybe change a thing or two.

Awesome. It'll be easier too as we collect characters together, if their authors want to drop out and let someone else take over that character. Just tossing the idea out there, if some of us are finding it too inconvenient to write.

I'm not saying an ending would be in any way appropriate with respect to the story. I'm saying that, given the time that passes between new chapters, it may be necessary. If even SlaYo is taking ages to post a chapter, we're in trouble.