Question about making fanfics

[Darth Yan]

Okay, on second thought you are right. Sorry.

[Formless]

About the only judgment I've seen that could be described as unfair in this was GMT trying to compare anime to 80's cartoons and manga to american comic books (both of which represent a far wider variety of genres and target audiences including adults). But even there to say that those two mediums are far overrepresented on TVtraps is frankly hard to argue.

[CaptainChewbacca]

As someone who DOES write recreationally, I agree that TVtropes shouldn't be used as a guideline. I think it is BEST used if you want to break down and analyze some of your own work, to figure out if you're copying anything too closely. Early in my experience, I tended to have one plot/theme that I followed a LOT, and once I recognized that I was able to vary my stories.

[kilopi505]

After going trough the whole thread, and looking at TVtropes, I can say that it's a good source of things that I should NOT do when I write. Thanks.

P.S.
Of I posted my fic on fictionpress.com, will you guys read it?

[Mayabird]

We might if you actually posted some information that would let us access it, like your username or the title of the fic or better yet, a link to the story itself.

[Enigma]

I recommend unless someone already has mentioned is to keep re-writing your story and don't just stick to your first draft. I don't have a laptop so I do most of my writing on (paper) notebooks. I write my stories on it until such time I can type it into the computer. When that happens, I end up changing a lot of the story so it becomes polished and works better than it was before. For example, I'd write a dialogue between two characters on my notebook and when I start typing it up, I look and realize that it is either too short or too long or some of the dialogue sucks and needs overhauling.

Basically, work on your story until you feel it is polished enough to either send it to your proofreaders\beta readers or to just post it.

One more thing, have a thesaurus handy, whether a paper version or online. It really helps.

[kilopi505]

(Story start)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
‘Herbert Ward. Resident of Buckhorn, Kentucky.
Born January 3, 1949.
Died April 1, 2007 of Unknown causes
He will be missed’

This...is what I imagine my epitaph is going to be after the kids and the grandkids are done with it. In the meantime, I have to attend to the issue at hand: I am confronting what appears to be a pissed of supernatural being in the woods behind my home, ranting about my granddaughters’ offense against her.

Let me repeat that in more emphatic terms.

I AM IN FRONT OF A PISSED OFF FEMALE SUPERNATURAL BEING WHO IS RANTING IN ANGER ABOUT MY OFFSPRING WITH NO COVER IN SIGHT, AND NO WEAPON IN HAND.

This is definitely...the greatest mistake I made in a supernatural encounter, next to discovering that lost temple in Cambodia while I was separated from my unit.

‘Damn zombies, damn demons, and God bless the jubilant, thankful VC’s that let me go free after I managed to kill everything in the temple. Wonder if they are still ali…‘

I was brought back to the present when the girl, light coming out from her eyes, suddenly grabbed my shirt and brought my face down near hers and asked, in a voice that shook my bones (No, really, I felt my body vibrate) “Now do you understand why I am making your grandchildren’s lives miserable?”

I deadpanned“Because they made you a laughingstock in front of most of the supernatural world, to the point that trickster deities and long dead Greek comedians are using you and them as the subject for new jokes, and thus offended you so much you have to keep messing with their lives for half a year? Yeah, I think I understand.” Then I went back into a confrontational tone of voice “But listen here kid”

The girl quickly interrupted me, returning to a normal human voice. “Do I look like a kid to you?”

*Stare* “…You have a teenager’s body right now. Anyways, back to what I was saying, this isn’t productive. If you have a problem with them, go talk it out with them. Resolve your problems and finish this whole mess. This is just a waste of time for everyone concerned”

The girl let go off me, stepped back and crossed her arms. This is the first time I saw her clearly, since a while ago both of our tempers were very hot, which is…not conducive for proper conversation. She is a young (probably around 20 or so), dark and waist length haired girl dressed in a mostly white t-shirt with the words “AnimeFest 2007” printed on it and blue jeans you would probably find in any department store. The only thing different about her looks compared to any other girl her age in the county, is that she is wearing sandals made of…what looks like rope, with the blue jeans.

“Well sorry…gramps. I don’t trust myself to not slap them silly if I do talk to them. Besides, it’s worth it, believe me, making their lives miserable is worth it”

I looked at the…SMILING girl in her by now normal eyes, wondering what the hell is wrong with her to look so happy talking about messing up somebody else’s life. I then remembered from my grandmother’s fairy tales (the original ones, not the watered down versions Walt Disney are turning into movies) that those who aren’t human have their own values. Heck, even the Vietnamese have different values, and they are fellow humans. And I also remember the nut jobs of the Greek pantheon from high school classes. So I decided to change tactics.

“Look. I’m trying to be fair here. I accept that you have the right to be compensated for the humiliation, so can we just have a settlement? Do you know what a settlement is in the first place?”

“Of course I know what a settlement is. I even know what to use to sue your granddaughters in court. I could sue them for negligent infliction of Emotional Distress, if I were a human. Unfortunately, human courts only deal with humans. And you don’t have anything that could compensate me.”

“Err…money?”

“I am the Irish goddess of prosperity, as well as two other things. I donate PURE GOLD to you humans. Try again”

I am silent. I honestly didn’t know what to do, since usually, if not all settlements and litigation was ended with someone paying money. If this…’goddess’ doesn’t want money…my poor grand daughters are going to get killed if this continues. Then I got an idea.

“Hey, do you have any debts or favors you owe anyone? How about I help you with those if you promise to let this vendetta against my granddaughters go away?”

Now, the girl blinked, and then looked at me like I just said something stupid. She asked “You have a death wish? If you are Chu Chulainn, sure, why not? If you are 30 years old or younger, plausible. At your age? You’ll get a heart attack first before finishing whatever I send you to do. I don’t think so.”

“But you said you are the ‘goddess’ of prosperity. Happiness and Health are also related to that word, isn’t it?”

“Ok, now you are telling me how to do my job?”

“It’s magic. You claim to be a goddess. What’s so hard with making sure I don’t have a heart attack?”

The girl looked to the left, thinking hard about something. It was silent for…a while, I guess. Then she started tapping her foot on the grass, still thinking about something. Then the tapping stopped, and the girl looked back at me, with a face that just reeks of curiosity.

“Can you fight? Been in any fight at all?”

“Kid, I am a Vietnam veteran. I was at Saigon with the 25th during Tet. Even after all these years, I do still remember how to fight, it’s just…I don’t practice anymore.” I chuckled, and then stopped with a smile on my face. I don’t know why, but my guts are telling me something is going to go a little bit wrong.

“Good. Practice again. Some of the jobs could get quite dangerous.” At the word ‘dangerous, I lost the smile at my face at this bit of information. She faced away from me, and walked forward to a… an oval wall of white light, which doesn’t hurt the eye. She continued talking.

“I’ll contact you two weeks from now. It will be through any reflective surface. But don’t worry; I will give advance warning so you don’t get a sudden heart attack seeing me suddenly in the mirror. Oh” And she turned her head sideways to look at me “The name’s Anann. Yours?”

“Ward. Herbert Ward” I responded in the same voice that I heard get used in one of those James Bond films, getting a need to get back at her in some way. The girl winced (and am I glad to see her getting uncomfortable) and said “That is SO not cool. Later, Mr. Ward” And she stepped through the wall of light, and it disappeared. I was left alone in the forest behind my home.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Story end)


Comments? Here, I posted one of my ideas.

[kilopi505]

Umm ...hello anyone?

Comments please.

[Dass.Kapital]

*Bows*

I replied with a PM.

Much cheers to you and yours.

[kilopi505]

I'm sorry but, what PM?

[Dass.Kapital]

Edit: Ah, oh dear. I thought my message had gone through, that's a pity. Oh well hopefully that last one will make it through.

*Bows*

[kilopi505]

(Story start)
--------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 2
Minutes after the FUBAR of a confrontation, I cleared my mind of all other thoughts and went back into the house. It is a small, rectangular, one story log cabin 120 sq. meters in size with only 2 bedrooms, a kitchen and dining area, and a bathroom. I went into the cooking and dining area, opened the refrigerator, and took a can of Coors. I then pulled the tab off and drank from it, sat down in one of the chairs and looked out the windows, contemplating my next move.


It is 3 hours after the FUBAR with the kid. By now, the reasons for the FUBAR in the back of the house are here, cooking the dinner at the stove and regaling me with their stories of the day, while there I was, letting their words go in one ear and out the next, thinking of a way to ask for the reason as to why did they piss off some Irish deity.

The one on minding the pot is Regina Ward. She is my elder granddaughter, has black, shoulder length hair, and a little bit of fat, not that it detracts anything from her physically. Her place of residence is in Hazard, where my son and his wife moved to after being married 20 years ago. She is now 19 years old, a graduate of Human Services from HCTC down there in Hazard, and was employed with a local NGO.

The one taking drinks from the refrigerator is Annie Walker. She is my younger granddaughter, has long, brunette hair, and is a very beautiful girl, telling me stories about many boys trying to ask her to a date in her high school. Her place of residence is at Louisville, where my daughter’s husband lives. She is currently 16 years old and is a 10th grade student at Louisville Collegiate School.

My mind was suddenly pulled back to the present when I heard Regina telling me about some freaky event in the convenience store in Buckhorn where she and Annie are currently working at part time.

“And then when I was about to open the cash register, the machine suddenly refused to open. The customer I was talking to refused to leave without the change and receipt. And the other people in line started complaining. I called the manager to ask for help in making the clunky machine work, but it just won’t open.”

“So, what happened Regina?” Regina looked back at me and said

“Well, in the end, almost all the customers left the shopping carts full of goods on their own and left irritated, while the manager closed the store and gave the one I was going to give the change to the same amount of money from his own pocket. And there I was standing there embarrassed for all the trouble.”

“Regina, that is not your fault” Annie said while pouring milk into 3 mugs. “The manager said it could happen to anyone. It’s just bad luck”

“But that is the point” and Regina started waving one of her arms in a lecturing mode “If only one unlucky thing happened to us, I’ll take it as just bad luck. But one bad thing happening after the other, for 6 consecutive months? That’s not bad luck. Someone cursed us. Someone really, really good at this kind of thing cursed us, and what’s worse, we don’t know who to even make amends to!” Regina wailed in the end, by now completely turning her back on the stove
“Regina, just out of curiosity, but what sort of things happened to you and Annie? All I know is that you have a series of unrelenting bad events that are steadily going worse happening to you kids. And Regina, please look at the pot, not at me”

The two girls looked at each other, and then started telling me one story after another. At first I was thinking ‘that’s hilarious’. Then as time went on, as the stew was poured into bowls, and as the stew and the drinks are finished, I was slowly getting more and more horrified by the unfortunate crap hitting them once a day. By the time the girls finished washing the dishes and sat down at the table, I am thinking that compared to them, my time in Vietnam is just being stuck in rush hour.

I mean… at least the ones trying to kill me are humans. They have electrical appliances suddenly deciding to electrocute them, random birds falling from the sky (The Hazard Herald reported that one 2 months ago, Annie told me), cargo falling FROM FedEx planes flying overhead (LCS was asking very pointed questions at FedEx for that one, besides the usual government agencies raising hell every time something that flies messes up), brakes failing every time they drive a car themselves no matter how often they go to a mechanic (Regina called 911 for help at those times. May God bless the LMPD)

And those are only the more lethal ones. I must not forget to mention the irritating and demoralizing ones, like how Annie’s grades at school are steadily going down because of test papers getting lost in transit or in freaky accidents (I never thought that a teacher will say to their student that their test paper was ripped to pieces by a dog, since it usually is the other way around. The only difference from the cliché is it was a rabid and starving dog infected with rabies, and was causing havoc on LCS property until the dogcatcher caught it).

Or how traffic jams suddenly appear when Annie is on the way to school, no matter how early she gets out of home (She finally resorted to using a bicycle to travel all the way to school. Less mechanical malfunctions to worry about)

Or how Regina was fired from her job by the local NGO because thousands of dollars of equipment keep getting broken when she touches it, a reason that I keep finding to be ridiculous. Is that even a justifiable reason for firing someone?

And the worst event, the one that really sealed the deal for my children and made them send Annie and Regina here, was when they are together celebrating something I have no idea about at a family restaurant in Louisville. Suddenly a bar brawl happened in the restaurant (How in God’s name can a bar brawl happen in a freaking FAMILY RESTAURANT?). Now I have never been in a bar brawl, but how on Earth can several drunk brawlers mistake the girls for the ones that punched them, and proceed to give them, according to Annie’s friend since the girls are knocked out, ‘an almighty KO punch that belongs more to Manny Pacquiao than to a drunk patron‘. In fact, there is just no other explanation, from the witnesses, the girls, and even the drunks themselves, for how the girls got in the line of fire, and in THAT kind of fire, so suddenly other than bad luck.

After that last story, the cabin was silent for some time. I looked at the girls. Both of them look pretty traumatized by their experiences. I am really tempted to just stop here, but I want them to at least remember why the curse started, so that when they learned about the cause, they could try to find another way of appeasing the Irish kid, since right now, I am not very sure if I can finish the deal in one piece. So I went on.

“Regina, you think someone cursed you girls. Tell me, since you are the only one in the family dabbling with those Neo-pagans, what have you two done to get this hypothetical someone to curse you?”

Regina looked thoughtful for a while, then was about to shrug when she stopped in the middle of the action, eyes looking at the bottle of milk on the table. Her face went blank for a while, then she looked at Annie, who looked on curiously. When Annie saw this, her face was suddenly filled suspicion and asked Regina

“Dear cousin, do you have something we, or more importantly, I should know about?”

Regina winced and said “I think I have some ideas” My world stopped for a moment at the word ‘ideas’. If I remember correctly, adding an ‘s’ to a noun that doesn’t have one in the singular form indicates that the plural form is being used. Combine that with the word ‘some’, and that means...more than one.

“Kid, what the HELL are you doing in that religion of yours?!” I shouted at Regina. Annie just sat there glaring at her older cousin. I continued shouting “And how the hell do you get that many people angry at you?”

Regina winced and said “I...don’t know. For some reason I just rub some people the wrong way. Unfortunately, these people in the movement I am rubbing the wrong way...are some of the more knowledgable and older ones, not to mention dangerous”

“Dangerous” Annie deadpanned. “Dangerous as in those cults you see in the movies?”

“No, not that kind of dangerous. These people are dangerous because they are the real deal. They ...have power. Even other neo-pagans who have their own...connection with what we worship are wary of them”

Silence...

Annie is the first to do something. She left the table, made a ‘follow me gesture’ to Regina, and said goodnight to me. Regina followed after her cousin, also saying a goodnight, and closed the door to their room. I was left alone on the table, looking the door of their room.

Great. They are screwed. I am screwed. Even if I manage to appease the Irish goddess, looks like there is a waiting line of other people waiting for their own chance to make my granddaughters’ day lousy.

Hmm....

Next time I see the Irish girl, maybe I could add something to the contract?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(story end)

comments?

[kilopi505]

(Story start)
--------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 2
Minutes after the FUBAR of a confrontation, I cleared my mind of all other thoughts and went back into the house. It is a small, rectangular, one story log cabin 120 sq. meters in size with only 2 bedrooms, a kitchen and dining area, and a bathroom. I went into the cooking and dining area, opened the refrigerator, and took a can of Coors. I then pulled the tab off and drank from it, sat down in one of the chairs and looked out the windows, contemplating my next move.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is 3 hours after the FUBAR with the kid. By now, the reasons for the FUBAR in the back of the house are here, cooking the dinner at the stove and regaling me with their stories of the day, while there I was, letting their words go in one ear and out the next, thinking of a way to ask for the reason as to why did they piss off some Irish deity.

The one on minding the pot is Regina Ward. She is my elder granddaughter, has black, shoulder length hair, and a little bit of fat, not that it detracts anything from her physically. Her place of residence is in Hazard, where my son and his wife moved to after being married 20 years ago. She is now 19 years old, a graduate of Human Services from HCTC down there in Hazard, and was employed with a local NGO.

The one taking drinks from the refrigerator is Annie Walker. She is my younger granddaughter, has long, brunette hair, and is a very beautiful girl, telling me stories about many boys trying to ask her to a date in her high school. Her place of residence is at Louisville, where my daughter’s husband lives. She is currently 16 years old and is a 10th grade student at Louisville Collegiate School.

My mind was suddenly pulled back to the present when I heard Regina telling me about some freaky event in the convenience store in Buckhorn where she and Annie are currently working at part time.

“And then when I was about to open the cash register, the machine suddenly refused to open. The customer I was talking to refused to leave without the change and receipt. And the other people in line started complaining. I called the manager to ask for help in making the clunky machine work, but it just won’t open.”

“So, what happened Regina?” Regina looked back at me and said

“Well, in the end, almost all the customers left the shopping carts full of goods on their own and left irritated, while the manager closed the store and gave the one I was going to give the change to the same amount of money from his own pocket. And there I was standing there embarrassed for all the trouble.”

“Regina, that is not your fault” Annie said while pouring milk into 3 mugs. “The manager said it could happen to anyone. It’s just bad luck”

“But that is the point” and Regina started waving one of her arms in a lecturing mode “If only one unlucky thing happened to us, I’ll take it as just bad luck. But one bad thing happening after the other, for 6 consecutive months? That’s not bad luck. Someone cursed us. Someone really, really good at this kind of thing cursed us, and what’s worse, we don’t know who to even make amends to!” Regina wailed in the end, by now completely turning her back on the stove
“Regina, just out of curiosity, but what sort of things happened to you and Annie? All I know is that you have a series of unrelenting bad events that are steadily going worse happening to you kids. And Regina, please look at the pot, not at me”

The two girls looked at each other, and then started telling me one story after another. At first I was thinking ‘that’s hilarious’. Then as time went on, as the stew was poured into bowls, and as the stew and the drinks are finished, I was slowly getting more and more horrified by the unfortunate crap hitting them once a day. By the time the girls finished washing the dishes and sat down at the table, I am thinking that compared to them, my time in Vietnam is just being stuck in rush hour.

I mean… at least the ones trying to kill me are humans. They have electrical appliances suddenly deciding to electrocute them, random birds falling from the sky (The Hazard Herald reported that one 2 months ago, Annie told me), cargo falling FROM FedEx planes flying overhead (LCS was asking very pointed questions at FedEx for that one, besides the usual government agencies raising hell every time something that flies messes up), brakes failing every time they drive a car themselves no matter how often they go to a mechanic (Regina called 911 for help at those times. May God bless the LMPD)

And those are only the more lethal ones. I must not forget to mention the irritating and demoralizing ones, like how Annie’s grades at school are steadily going down because of test papers getting lost in transit or in freaky accidents (I never thought that a teacher will say to their student that their test paper was ripped to pieces by a dog, since it usually is the other way around. The only difference from the cliché is it was a rabid and starving dog infected with rabies, and was causing havoc on LCS property until the dogcatcher caught it).

Or how traffic jams suddenly appear when Annie is on the way to school, no matter how early she gets out of home (She finally resorted to using a bicycle to travel all the way to school. Less mechanical malfunctions to worry about)

Or how Regina was fired from her job by the local NGO because thousands of dollars of equipment keep getting broken when she touches it, a reason that I keep finding to be ridiculous. Is that even a justifiable reason for firing someone?

And the worst event, the one that really sealed the deal for my children and made them send Annie and Regina here, was when they are together celebrating something I have no idea about at a family restaurant in Louisville. Suddenly a bar brawl happened in the restaurant (How in God’s name can a bar brawl happen in a freaking FAMILY RESTAURANT?). Now I have never been in a bar brawl, but how on Earth can several drunk brawlers mistake the girls for the ones that punched them, and proceed to give them, according to Annie’s friend since the girls are knocked out, ‘an almighty KO punch that belongs more to Manny Pacquiao than to a drunk patron‘. In fact, there is just no other explanation, from the witnesses, the girls, and even the drunks themselves, for how the girls got in the line of fire, and in THAT kind of fire, so suddenly other than bad luck.

After that last story, the cabin was silent for some time. I looked at the girls. Both of them look pretty traumatized by their experiences. I am really tempted to just stop here, but I want them to at least remember why the curse started, so that when they learned about the cause, they could try to find another way of appeasing the Irish kid, since right now, I am not very sure if I can finish the deal in one piece. So I went on.

“Regina, you think someone cursed you girls. Tell me, since you are the only one in the family dabbling with those Neo-pagans, what have you two done to get this hypothetical someone to curse you?”

Regina looked thoughtful for a while, then was about to shrug when she stopped in the middle of the action, eyes looking at the bottle of milk on the table. Her face went blank for a while, then she looked at Annie, who looked on curiously. When Annie saw this, her face was suddenly filled suspicion and asked Regina

“Dear cousin, do you have something we, or more importantly, I should know about?”

Regina winced and said “I think I have some ideas” My world stopped for a moment at the word ‘ideas’. If I remember correctly, adding an ‘s’ to a noun that doesn’t have one in the singular form indicates that the plural form is being used. Combine that with the word ‘some’, and that means...more than one.

“Kid, what the HELL are you doing in that religion of yours?!” I shouted at Regina. Annie just sat there glaring at her older cousin. I continued shouting “And how the hell do you get that many people angry at you?”

Regina winced and said “I...don’t know. For some reason I just rub some people the wrong way. Unfortunately, these people in the movement I am rubbing the wrong way...are some of the more knowledgable and older ones, not to mention dangerous”

“Dangerous” Annie deadpanned. “Dangerous as in those cults you see in the movies?”

“No, not that kind of dangerous. These people are dangerous because they are the real deal. They ...have power. Even other neo-pagans who have their own...connection with what we worship are wary of them”

Silence...

Annie is the first to do something. She left the table, made a ‘follow me gesture’ to Regina, and said goodnight to me. Regina followed after her cousin, also saying a goodnight, and closed the door to their room. I was left alone on the table, looking the door of their room.

Great. They are screwed. I am screwed. Even if I manage to appease the Irish goddess, looks like there is a waiting line of other people waiting for their own chance to make my granddaughters’ day lousy.

Hmm....

Next time I see the Irish girl, maybe I could add something to the contract?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(story end)

comments?

[kilopi505]

Any comments? Please?

[kilopi505]

(Story start)

Chapter 3
It is the morning of April 2, 2007. The sun is shining brightly, the air is so clean and cool, the food in front of me looks as delicious as usual when my granddaughters are the ones who made them, and the only thing spoiling this wonderful morning are my two granddaughters.
The two normally talkative girls are so silent today. Looking at their faces, I see that they are deep in their own worlds. They are barely looking at each other or at me for that matter. And they have not touched their own food yet.
While I understand that they are...depressed with their current situation, I have no intention of letting breakfast and our collective morale (in that order) be ruined by this depressing silence.
“The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, breakfast is in front of us, and we are all still alive. So girls, stop being such a downer on this day and eat! You girls all have time to be depressed later, if you really want to continue doing so”
The girls looked up at me with incredulous looks on their faces, then at each other, and they went back to their plates. They started eating, showing more life in them than a while before.
‘Nice job Herbert’

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After breakfast was finished and the dishes were cleaned and put away, I just sat there with the by now mildly warm cup of milk in front of me, watching the girls make some last minute preparations, like Annie looking for her cell phone, or Regina applying baby powder of her face and neck. I feel better now, seeing my two cute granddaughters having more life in them than before breakfast.

Finished with their preparations, the girls hugged me and then said their goodbyes. When they were about to go out the door, I asked them to stop because I am going to tell them something.

“Girls, I just got some errands that might cause me to be away from home starting from today, so please don’t be surprised when if you went home I am not here. Ok, stay safe.” I finished, and then I emptied my glass of milk in a few gulps.

Regina didn’t let it go at that. She asked me “What errands? And what kind of errands might get you to stay away from home?”

I looked at her, thought for a moment for an imaginary job, and then I thought it is better to use both truth and lies.

“Well, I got invited by some friends from way back in Vietnam to a hunt in Alaska. It is going to be a reunion of our unit, whoever is still alive, from Saigon. So, here I am going to the nearest gym to get myself up to a better physical state. Then I also got to buy a new gun”

Annie is the one who asked this time. “What’s wrong with the Winchester? You know the one you just tested at the shooting range a week ago?” She pointed and looked up at one of the two rifles that are mounted above the door.

Like Annie said, one of the guns is a Winchester Model 1894 that I bought in ’72, after I had left the army. The other one is the family heirloom, nicknamed ‘Annie’, a constantly (and lovingly) maintained Kentucky Rifle that has been in the family ever since my great-great grandfather commissioned it’s making a few months before joining the militia and going off with Jackson’s army in the War of 1812. Since then, the gun has been used constantly in every military and violent action that my ancestors participated in as a sniper rifle all the way until the Civil War. From then on, it has only been on display.

Annie looked back to me and waited for my answer.

“Well, you see we are going Grizzly bear hunting. As much as I would like to, you don’t bring a small caliber gun to that kind of hunt. So…I have to buy a bigger rifle.”

Annie frowned at me and then said “Well, if that is what you old guys really want, then I can’t stop you. But I still protest the unreasonable killing of animals that has not attacked a human, not to mention you are 58 years old. See you later grandpa” She then turned around and stopped. Curious about what made her stop, I looked over her shoulder and saw something I don’t see every day.

Regina is kneeling on the ground laughing, only managing to keep it silent by covering her mouth with one hand. One moment she would seem to be finished laughing, then the next moment another bout of laughing started. But when she looked in our direction, she gave up trying to conceal her laughs and just laughed out loud. I and Annie looked at each other, both clueless on what Regina is finding so funny. Then we approached her.

“Reg, what’s so funny?” Annie asked. By now, Regina’s laughs are starting to die out. A moment later, she got it under control. She then answered “When grandpa said he is going to go training, something funny came into mind. I saw him wearing Rocky Balboa’s clothes, with the theme song playing out loudly in the background while he is doing his training stuff”

I thought about what Regina said. There I am, dressed in a white sweater and jogging pants with ‘Eye of the Tiger’ playing in the background, jogging in the streets and up the mountains shadow boxing all the way, hitting a punching bag as fast and as hard as I can, then me holding a training rifle I borrowed from the ROTC and practicing my bayonet drill, when all of a sudden the sirens of an ambulance intruded into the scene, and the image of orderlies carrying my limp body into the ambulance and sped off into the distance, with the same song still playing in the background.

Both I and Annie snickered at that, for different reasons I am certain. Then I reminded the girls that they have a job, and ought to go there before they become tardy for work. The girls took one look at their watches, yipped, and quickly ran to their bikes in the garage, mounting them, then took off down the road, with both girls waving back at me.

I stood in the same position watching the bikes go along the road towards the convenience store at the interstate road. When I they moved out of view behind the hills, I turned back to the house and walked in, checking to see if there are any chores left to do before going to buy my new gun. Seeing that everything has already been finished yesterday, I took my wallet and locked up the house.

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I stepped down from the bus and looked at the street signs, trying to find my bearings and occasionally looking at the piece of paper where the address of the gun shop I was referred to by my nearest neighbor is written. Finally, I found the street sign which says ‘Lexington Street’.

I quickly gave up on finding the place by myself since I am already lost the first moment I got here in Versailles so I looked around for people to ask. Seeing a clean shaven young man in a business suit, I approached him and asked if he knows the address on the paper. The man apologized, saying that he is only here in Versailles for business purposes, and is not familiar with the city. Saying it is alright, I moved away from the man, looking for another person to ask when somebody asked me if I am lost. Looking at the speaker, I saw it is an Indian girl dressed in one of those Indian looking things. Forcing down the impolite urge to ask what is an Indian doing all the way up here in Kentucky, I answered that yes, I am lost. Then I showed her the address of the gun store. She looked at it, then gave it back and said “Please follow me sir. The store is just a short walk away” And I followed.

For the next few minutes, we talked about various everyday topics while she is leading me to the store. I learned that the name of the Indian girl is Ratri and she is here straight from India on a business trip. Ratri is a young, beautiful girl with long black hair and light brown skin that just seems to shine naturally. She is dressed in one of them famous Indian dresses and is also bedecked in more gold jewelry (a nose plug, earrings, a ring on each finger except for the thumbs, bracelet on each arm and two necklaces) than I know Mary, my deceased wife, ever possessed in all our years together (just our wedding rings and the engagement ring). Which made me think about the sensibility of wearing all those gold accessories while one is walking in the middle of a city (albeit a small one). Thankfully, nobody else on the sidewalk is looking at the both of us.

Then Ratri asked me why do I need to buy a gun. I told her that my grand daughters have some problems pestering them and that I could wave those problems away by doing some jobs for this crazy Irish chick which I was warned could unfortunately end in violence, so I kind of needed the right guns for the job. She nodded, blinked, and stopped walking, turning to me with an incredulous expression and surprised me with her next words.

“I’m sorry, but did you just make a contract with Annan Mr. Ward? Oh no…that is very bad sir”

I blinked, and then stopped walking. When did I tell her Annan’s name? And now that I think about it…the pedestrians are not ignoring us out of being polite to strangers. It’s more like they seem to be unaware of our very existence.

Suspicions aroused and getting ready for a fight, I was about to ask her how does she know the Irish girl’s name when Ratri stopped walking turned around, snapped her fingers, and everything around us turned as dark as the night…for a moment.

[kilopi505]

(Story Start)

Chapter 4

The darkness lifted and I saw I was back home, in front of the house.

I blinked once. Twice.

At that moment I think I must have been disoriented, saying these next words from out of nowhere.

“Ratri, you owe me a hundred dollars for what you just did.”

Ratri blinked, and then had an expression on her face that just plainly says ‘What’? I continued talking.

“Well, you see the fare from here to Louisville is around a hundred dollars by bus. And” I looked at my wristwatch “The next bus coming to Buckhorn and going to northern Kentucky is around an hour from now. So…you getting us here in front of my house without any guns bought is a hundred dollars and two hours of precious time wasted.”

Ratri blushed at her mistake and then took a wallet from one of her pockets, counting off some bills from some other country, and then handed them over to me.

“Umm…sorry about that Mr. Ward. Here, this is the Indian equivalent of one and a half hundred dollars. All you have to do is go to a money changer to have it converted to dollars.”

“Thanks Ratri. Now…you were saying?” I steered the conversation back to what she was talking about a while ago.

“Well…I am here to apologize for the actions of my friend. Right now me and another one of our little club of goddesses are trying our best to calm her down. But it’s very challenging to do so when the botched…’prayer’ your grand daughters made while deeply inebriated is…the latest inspiration of many in the supernatural world and the mortal afterlives who just keep won’t stop making jokes referring to it.”

‘I swear from this moment on, those girls are never getting any alcohol ever again, not on my watch’

Making that promise to myself, I missed parts of what Ratri said next so when she paused for a breath, I interrupted and invited her to continue the conversation inside my house. She accepted my invitation and went after me inside the house. I showed her to the dining table and went to the refrigerator, taking a bottle of milk to offer to her as a guest. After she accepted it and I sat down at the table, I continued the conversation from where she last stopped.

“So Ratri, I appreciate your sincerity and I thank you for your effort in trying to calm down Annan and lifting off her curse from my granddaughters” Ratri interrupted me.

“I’m sorry Mr. Ward, but all I could do for now is lessen the severity of the curse. If I break it now, Annan could just curse your granddaughters again, and maybe make it nastier this time around. We just have to wait until she calms down and is in a mood to forgive before we can ask her to take away the curse.”

Well, that is one thing off my chest. Then I remembered the other people that my granddaughter supposedly pissed off. I spoke about my other concern just as the Indian girl was about to say something

“Umm…Ratri, can you also do something about another problem that concerns my granddaughters?” At her curious (and patient) look, I explained that some neo-pagans are very angry with Regina for some reason she doesn’t know. Ratri is momentarily lost in thought, then she finished the rest of the milk in the bottle. After finishing it, she put it down on the table and then spoke.

“Mr. Ward, I am not sure how to deal with that one. You have to understand that in the supernatural world, not everybody knows everybody else even after all this time. And the neo-pagan worshippers…they are…unusual. Some of them might worship gods I know, or acquainted with but many of them also either worship a mother goddess or nature in general, in which case I am not sure who to talk to since there are so many of us who can claim that title or jurisdiction, or they outright invent themselves new spirits to worship who either don’t exist, or who are just newcomers in my world. Realistically, all I could advise is that your Granddaughter talk and reconcile with those who she had pissed off.”

“Dang…well, can you do anything so that anyone who is asked to curse them have to talk it out with you first?”

“Do you mean put them under my protection? Well…I am an old goddess who doesn’t have much of her powers anymore and is mostly unknown by mortals nowadays…Newcomers and younger gods either ignore the old, less known and relatively powerless ones or are disrespectful to those elders. But…alright, I will temporarily take them under my protection in case someone else does try to curse them. But if you want really solid protection, it could also be done by more Christian activities such as praying.”

I raised my eyebrows at this, not expecting a pagan Indian goddess to recommend praying to God. Ratri explained further upon seeing my surprise.

“Well, your YHWH, Allah or just plain God is someone us other gods don’t really like to talk about, especially not after the things that were pulled off against the Egyptians during the Exodus. But that one is content to let us coexist with it, ever since the eldest of us gods woke up and that being is in front of them smiling and welcoming them into existence.”

I blinked. And then blinked once more.

‘Well…that answers that question of whether God is real’

“Now, if there are no other concerns about your granddaughters Mr. Ward, we have to talk about YOUR trouble now”

This day seems to be one full of meaningful blinks.

“What trouble?”

“You said you made a contract with Annan to make her lift her curse from your granddaughters. As a result, despite the fact that me and my friend are trying to lift the curse on your granddaughters, you are still required to finish that contract with Annan whether the curse gets lifted or not.”

Oh

That really sucks.

“Umm…can I get it cancel…” Ratri immediately interrupted me.

“Trying to break a contract is a pretty bad idea Mr. Ward. You see, when we supernatural beings make a promise or an oath or a contract, we and the other party are bound to do as we have promised. If not…well…bad things happen.”

“Bad things?” I asked with a curious tone.

“Bad things you don’t want to know and I don’t want to remember. Even the Bible says something to that kind of effect.”

Even God said its bad to break a promise?

I was now quickly thinking back to the moment me and Annan made our promise, trying to find a loophole somewhere.

“How about if I did not actually say I would do it? Annan and me didn’t say we have a contract. She just asked me if I can fight, I said yes, and she said good, she has some jobs for…me…” I slowly stopped speaking upon seeing the Indian girl’s sad face

“Mr Ward, that counts as an implicit agreement, which still validates that as a contract”
I felt very dismayed by this turn of events. Luckily, Ratri is still not finished explaining.

“Don’t worry Mr. Ward. There is a way we could use to solve the problem with the contract. All you have to do is think like a lawyer and be technical about fulfilling the contract, which is alright because ever since the turn of the 19th century, most of the contracts in the world are being interpreted that way. But there is a condition. The other party has to agree that the contract is still being fulfilled despite the different interpretation by one of the parties.”

“So all I have to do is get Annan to agree to a different interpretation of the contract?” I felt a big, fat ray of hope beaming down on me from above at this point. “Well…how do I contact her? I don’t want to get in the middle of a fight just to get her debts paid”

“Well…first off you have to tell me what is it you want to interpret in a different way, and then I will tell it to her”

“All I want is to do a fixed number of favors and debts for Annan, and that they must not be in any way dangerous to me or bring me trouble after all this is over”

Ratri nodded, and we were interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone.

I looked at my wall phone located beside my bedroom’s door, but the ringing isn’t coming from that quarter. Nor did it come from my cell phone, which I had put in silent and vibrating mode. Motion from the edge of my vision had me turning to Ratri…holding a cell phone and about to answer the call.

Ratri noticed my expression and asked “What is it?”

“You have a cell phone?”

She sighed and then replied “Just because I am an old goddess from before the Jews exile to Babylon doesn’t mean I don’t keep up with and use modern technology. It is the same thing with Annan and Dalsun, my other friend.”

She answered her cell phone and talked in what I guess might be Indian. She listened for a few seconds, and then surprised me with an exclamation in Indian that feels to me like ‘What’. For the next few minutes, she is constantly wide-eyed and surprised at what she is hearing from her cell phone and looking at me from time to time.

When the phone call finished, Ratri looked at me a little sadly and told me that she has some good news and some bad news. I asked her to go on with some trepidation.

“The good news Mr. Ward, is that Annan doesn’t care about me tinkering around with the curse she put on your granddaughters, provided that I don’t completely break it. She said she is the one who will break it, as her part of the contract”

My hopeful feelings…started melting like Ice cream when I heard the word ‘contract’.

“Which leads me to the bad news. She wants you to do your part of the contract, and worse: You are definitely going to get into a fight wherever she is going to pay her debts, of which she said will be 6 favors all in all”

I was silent for a few seconds. Then I spoke put what is on my mind.

“Well…better prepare my last will. I doubt I can still move or fight like I used to back in Vietnam, never mind the fact that it will be 6 different situations I had to fight through” And then I chuckled in a morbid fashion.

“Don’t be too downhearted Mr. Ward. Annan said that she will ensure that you will not die on the job and nothing comes after it. And believe it or not, she is asking me and Dalsun to help her with her sudden bout of insanity in paying off her debts and favors. So, me and Dalsun are also going to help make sure that you do not die”

I looked up to heaven (in this case, the ceiling of my own home), wondering if that is suppose to reassure me, and then I closed my eyes and sighed. I figure that I really have no other choice other than to put my life in the hands of divine intervention (preferably God).

I asked Ratri “If I may ask, what are these measures that would let me live through what seems to be something as dangerous as my most violent encounters during the Vietnam War, because while I am a healthy man, please don’t forget that I am already 58 years old, and while I am still a good shot, I have not pointed a gun at another human being since 1970”

“The way Annan explained things to me over the phone, she is choosing people she owes debts to who are asking for favors that she is sure a human being could do for her. And the other thing is, Annan said that she will give you the necessary equipment and that all of us will have one of our own followers who are in the afterlife help you in the process”

The Irish girl is the one to give me the weapons? And companions in hardship…well, as long as those companions can pull their own weight.

“Not to sound rude, but what is her idea of weapons? Because if it is a magical sword…”

“Oh Mr. Ward, that is very silly. Believe it or not, the supernatural world does keep up with current events, although it is more of watching CNN or reading the New York Times.”

“And what does that have to do with weapons?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“Well, it means we know about guns and how effective they are, even though most gods and spirits prefer to do things the old fashioned way. Besides, you are lucky that you encountered our little club of goddesses instead of anyone else.”

“What is your club about and what is its relation to whatever I am going to be armed with?” I asked bewildered by this…seemingly unrelated reason.

“Well…it is called the ’Modern Human Culture Appreciation club’ ” She admitted with a sheepish expression.

I blinked again, thought for a while, and then I nodded to show my acceptance. It is impossible not to know of what I might need if you are someone who claims to study ‘Modern’ culture. I’m sure that includes war.

Ratri then said that she believes that she has nothing more to talk about concerning me and will be there beside Annan when she fetches me around 13 days from now. We both stood up from the table, and I was about to show her out the door when she looked at the mounted guns above the doorway, and then stopped to gaze in…wonder, I think.

I asked her what is she looking at the guns for. She looked down at me and then replied, while her hand is pointing at one of them, saying “I think I know the perfect gun we could use as your weapon”.

I looked at where she was pointing, wondering what is she going to do with the Winchester when I noticed she is not pointing at the Winchester in the first place. She is pointing at ‘Annie’.
I looked down at her, incredulous at her statement that I would use my family heirloom, not to mention an antique, well preserved muzzle loader as my gun. Seeing my expression, Ratri quickly explained.

“Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous, but there are several reasons why I think it is a good weapon for your use in the contract. One: While there are a lot of human made melee weapons that have become magical, or became supernaturally special due to several reasons I, it is rare for any kind of gun to achieve that, but here I am looking at a gun that is spiritually tied to your family and to the land itself and is the oldest, functional gun I have ever seen. A gun like this is quite easy to upgrade with magic, and the more special the gun is, the more magic that could be applied to it.”

“You are going to mess with my family heirloom?! What if you broke it! Or something? And can you even put it back to normal once you mess with ‘Annie’?”

“You don’t have to worry about it breaking from magic. And it is easy to uninstall the magic one applies to any weapon, provided the one doing the uninstalling is the caster of the magic in the first place”

Still not being convinced, I asked her what is the other reason.

“The way I see it, you will not need a high rate of fire for the jobs. You will need more…penetrating power and damage with every shot you make. Besides, included in the magical spells I was thinking of putting on the Kentucky Rifle is one that will pretty much give you infinite, magical ammunition. All you have to do is pull back the cock of the gun and the gun is instantly reloaded”

I looked at ‘Annie’, then back at the Indian girl, thinking about what she is saying.

Do I need a normal M-16 or a magical Kentucky Rifle if I am gonna have to get in a fight with some weird opponents?

[kilopi505]

Any comments?

[Enigma]

Yeah, one. Your fanfic should be in a separate thread and really isn't about "Question about making fanfics". It isn't a question since you are actually posting a fanfic.

[kilopi505]

Ok. Gonna make a new thread later for my story.