Raw Talent

[Alydia Ettermire]

When Aly got back into the house, she locked the door and then shuffled up the stairs. On the wall that led up to her room were various projects...some of her favorite paintings dating back from the earliest days of her education, various academic certificates she'd won, from the time she was a young child to the congratulatory note she'd found on her desk the day she'd solved her hundredth case.

She hadn't put up any of them, it was all the Chief's doing. They were so routine to her that she rarely saw them, but tonight she paused and looked at them. It was so weird; the man used his own awards, more solid awards for valor in service, for paperweights or other ridiculous, mundane uses. But that tacky purple and orange painting she'd done at fifteen that vaguely resembled a house was still in the same place it had been for the last seventy years. It was crumbling with age, but still there.

She had to shake her head. She doubted that even her biological father, had he stuck around to raise her, could have been nearly as proud of her as the Chief, even for things that didn't really deserve pride.

Like today's failure.

Frustrated, Aly reached out, taking the old painting and crumbling it, tossing it down the stairs. How could she miss the clues? There had to be clues just glaring to be noticed, begging to take a worthy investigator right to the kidnapper and his victim.

In her room, Aly kicked off her boots, tossed her hat aside, and then threw her coat at the foot of her bed, flopping down on the mattress and glaring up at the ceiling. How could she be incompetent enough to doom a child to death?

A jumble of lights on her ceiling caught her eye; her suncatcher was throwing purple and blue specters of the light it stole from the streetlamps. When the lamps had first been installed for the benefit of the humans who did business with the technologically advanced nation, they'd annoyed Alydia to no end. How was she supposed to sleep with all the light? But eventually the panorama of shadows it sent scurrying across her room had become entertaining, and then soothing. And the light cast off of the delicate piece of glass in the window had always comforted her, no matter what.

Except tonight.

There's got to be something...in his pattern...

Suddenly a burst of inspiration struck her in the form of the shards of light dancing on her ceiling, and Aly sat up straight. There had been something in common in all of the areas, something so minor and mundane that she and Aonar had automatically dismissed it. But what was it?

She thought back to her conversations with her partner over the course of the day, and remembered one particularly annoying tendency her partner displayed. He made sure to step on every single sewer grate.

That's it. The sewer has access to all those areas, and to the river. It's how he remained unseen.

Hopping up, Aly hurried to put on her coat, hat, and boots, scribbled a quick note for the Chief, then grabbed her whip off the side table and was gone into the night.

[Alydia Ettermire]

The houses from which children had been taken burned as bright spots in Alydia's mental map, and she overlaid them with the sketchy mental image she had of the sewers, based on where she knew grates were and the little bit of time she'd spent in the wretched darkness when she was a small child. They formed a sort of fan around an area of town that had long since been abandoned by industry and had gone largely to the street rats and the scum of society, people that anyone on the force would put away without a moment's hesitation. The river formed the fan's handle, and the nexus point was right under the old depot, the area where the kidnapper - the murderer of children - had demanded his ransoms be paid.

Going into the area alone at night as a recognizable member of law enforcement wasn't the most intelligent of actions, but that didn't matter. If she could get there in time...if she could just get there in time.

The scarlet-coated detective chose a sewer grate about a block away from the area she hoped would reveal the criminal and his victim and bent down, prepared for a monumental effort to pull it off. She braced herself, then pulled as hard as she could...only to find that it popped off easily. That just confirmed Aly's suspicion that the underground waste tunnels were being used to conceal someone.

The young detective hit a maintenance ledge when she jumped down, but almost slipped on the slick layer of mildew and sludge that coated the smooth stone.

The first thing that hit her, even before she caught her balance, was the smell. The roiling stench of thousands of gallons of waste, gathered from all of Ettermire's people and complemented by the stink of rotting rats created a terrible miasma in the small, enclosed tunnel, and Alydia choked and gagged, just trying to breathe, but there was no such thing as fresh air in the sewers.

Shunting it to the side and reminding herself that she'd be able to breathe again when she got back up, Alydia closed her eyes and listened, trying to get her bearings. The loudest sounds that rang in her ears were the sloshes of waste through the troughs and the drips of moisture off the walls and back into the sewage, but faintly, in the direction she hoped she'd hear it, were the terrified whimpers of a child.

YES!

She was in time. Either that, or she was going to witness the death of a child she could have saved.

Wheeling around and taking care not to slip too badly and fall, Alydia ran toward the sound of the cries, moving with all the agility she could muster. She didn't even notice the stench anymore, she just wanted to save the little one.

The cry turned to a terrified scream as Alydia burst into a bigger cavern. She saw two bright figures, one bigger and standing over the other, bright with anticipation, the other, smaller one - the little girl - bright with fear and fever. Blood already dripped from her arms and face, meaning that Aly had arrived just in time.

Alydia saw the big one, the man, just a little larger than she was, raise a dagger, and she rushed over, leaping across a tunnel and cracking her whip. She meant to actually hit him, but the whip just wasn't long enough and cracked beside him. Still, it was enough to distract him, and he let out a surprised hiss. No one had ever come close to finding him before, and now a woman shows up at the eleventh hour!

The kidnapper snarled, whipping his knife around and stabbing at Aly, but just as he thought she was to be his first adult victim, she vanished as the darkness congealed around her. Behind him came the sound of boots on stone, and he turned around just in time to see the woman pick up the child.

"I am Detective Alydia Ettermire, and this child will LIVE!"

Without wasting any more time, Aly started running away. She didn't have any real combat capabilities; she'd always had backup for that and she depended on being able to get out of danger without violence. She abhorred violence.

The criminal was right on her, though, and before she was even part way down the tunnel where the grate was, he rammed into her, sending her sprawling. It was all she could do not to fall into the sewage and take the bleeding child with her, but she managed to land on the ledge. She shoved the child roughly, hoping she'd get to her feet.

"RUN!"

The child hurried to her knees and started scampering away as fast as possible, and Aly rolled over to face the knife-wielding maniac. If she didn't take him on now, he'd definitely go after the child. She kicked out, and was rewarded with a cut on her shin. The pain lanced through her leg briefly, but she couldn't afford to focus on it. She lashed out with her whip, and its tip dragged across her attacker's face, leaving a long welt. He screamed in fury, then raised his blade high over the still-prone Alydia, starting to slam it down.

There was a soft click, and then a loud report echoed through the sewers. The kidnapper froze in place just after a tiny hole appeared in the middle of his forehead, and without another sound crumpled into the sloshing waste he'd made his home in.

Alydia got up, looking behind her, and what she saw filled her with relief. The bright orange barrel of the gun was lowering, and on the other end was the fedora-covered face of the Chief.

"Good to see you, boss," she said with a relieved grin.

"Come on, Stickyfeet," he told her, picking up the little girl. "Let's get this one home."

[Alydia Ettermire]

The child, Ilmuit, was returned to her parents at just past midnight. The mother started crying again, but Alydia found her happy, relieved tears a lot less irritating than the tears of fear and worry that had choked her voice that morning. It took the two detectives nearly half an hour before they could leave the house.

Aly was looking forward to getting home. Her clothes and boots were covered in sludge; she smelled like the sewage she'd nearly died in, her leg hurt where it had been cut, and now that the job was done and the child was safe, she was beyond exhausted.

"Never," started the Chief, his voice nearly a growl, "never ever go to hunt down a perp alone, Alydia! I have told you this a hundred times. You don't fight, you don't even carry a baton! You recklessly endangered yourself, and I had given you explicit orders to go home and to bed! If I hadn't come home when I did...if I hadn't gone to the kitchen for a glass of water...Alydia..." he sighed, exasperated, and took off his hat to rub at his forehead.

"Will you never learn?"

"That couple there almost lost their only child tonight, Chief. I'm not going to repent saving her life." Aly took a deep breath, savoring the clean night air. For a moment, a terrible moment in the sewer, she'd thought that her last breath would be more of that horrible, stale, polluted fumes that called those tunnels home, and it was good to take in a clean breath.

The rest of the short walk was spent in silence, and the Chief let them back into the house, taking off his coat, hat and boots in time with his protégé. "Go get some clean water and bandages, Alydia. We'll take care of that cut."

He started for the living room, but kicked a piece of crumpled paper on his way. With a frown etched on his lightly lined face, the Chief bent down, gently smoothing out the paper the young woman had discarded in her earlier frustration. Wordlessly, he carried it partially up the stairs and tacked it back into its former place.

"That man and woman, those parents whose baby we returned to their arms...they weren't the only ones who nearly lost their only child tonight, Alydia. Now...take care of that cut and get to bed. We'll take tomorrow off. Do laundry."

Aly let a weary smile creep across her face.

"That sounds good, Chief."

[Taskmienster]

Story -

Continuity (7)

Order of play is timely and consistent, I didn’t lose my place reading, but the compounding of time between posts disjoints the reader. If you’d combined it with your well wrought ability to maintain pacing and progressively develop the story without the need for ‘a moment later’ or ‘a few hours on’ gaps this would’ve been top marks. Well done either way, it’s well constructed.

Setting (6)

Although you make a point of describing the generic features of the setting, with some close and descriptive detail of character props - hat and whip of Aly and the like, there’s not a great deal of detail here in general. There is plenty of opportunity to expand the setting, the fetid conditions of the swamp, the sulphurous crack of the pistol, or even the cold icy twang of the night air. Obviously, you run the risk of turning a technically sound piece into a verbose monstrosity, but getting the balance right is making a huge step to improving your talent. I liked this line in particular, A jumble of lights on her ceiling caught her eye; her suncatcher was throwing purple and blue specters of the light it stole from the streetlamps.

Pacing (7)

Well paced and constructed, not much to add that has not or is not already mentioned in other sections. Doesn’t change tempo too dramatically.

-----

Character -

Dialogue (8)
Action (6.5)
Persona (8)

All in all the dialogue is mechanical, but methodical. I don’t expect everyone to master natural dialogue overnight, I know I’m a million miles away from it, but trying to push through character traits into a character’s speech is something that can give great rewards from very little effort. Something so simple as missing every -ing ending so she speaks ‘Winnin’ is all I’m about, singin’ and winnin’,’ is already a huge step to giving her a distinctive presence, with an accent or character traits and mannerisms, there’s less of a need to constantly say ‘Says Aly,’ as the reader will quickly identify with her. I definitely got the impression she was a hard working, stubborn, never give up hard ass with a heart, everything she is intended to be and I went over the bio afterwards - you’ve played her well, set her in a world, and nailed it. One final comment would be to refine your action, make her a dynamic and vibrant sort, describe her, not her weapons, and see where it takes you - ‘she cracks her whip and the whip hits’ replaced more with ‘her arm came down, the crack signalling the loss of his teeth’ etc.

Perhaps give trippling or assonance a go, the hard repetition and rhythm of solid, swift steel or dainty dangerous damsels is an effective way of listing, as well as spitting out words and ideas - the sorts of speedy quips a whip cracking fedora wearing thief might be making.

-----

Writing Style -

Technique (8)

Good strong clinical technique, vocalising ideas and the background of your character is half the writer’s battle, and you’ve surpassed the boundaries. You’ve made sporadic use of mechanical techniques, as noted below, and although your descriptive ability Is either not intended for this character idea or simply not jingling your mojo at the minute, it’d be something to work on in the future. One point was deducted for the repetition of words throughout, which aren’t drastic measures or ‘mistakes,’ but they do blunt enthusiasm and are hard to spot yourself, various is one word you’ve bunched together, and vanished and vanishing, together describing the same action in the opening descriptive paragraph. If you do catch these, swapping one word for something similar can add a dramatic flair and compose a sort of, juxtaposition between extremes, ‘where’s she’s materialised with her prize would be a good example, as well as adding that extra hint of the extraordinary, you’re avoiding the same word.

Mechanics (9)

Everything mechanically here is sound, nicely taught simple sentences and well punctuated dialogue, all mingled together into the thread with very little deviation. The only things I picked up on I thought would be beneficial to note were "Wake up and make breakfast. Unless you'd rather I did it.", which appears to be missing a question mark - as the intended impact comes across as rhetorical? Comma instead of full stop mid sentence too would’ve eased off the sardonic and give the Chief’s reaction a more natural edge. Sporadic but well applied use of hyphens, semi-colons, and a flawless use of conjunctions - credit where it is due, a technically sound piece. A point deducted for it’s methodical cleanliness, perhaps you could experiment more with the punctuation, to give your characters more prominence on the page, implement accents or more disjointed/contemplative speech, just a suggestion.

Clarity (8)

The dialogue does trail well generally, but with the quick exchanges and the lack of ‘stage direction’ or indication of action, emotion, facial expression and the like in some parts of the thread, it’s easy to lose any sense of involvement with the demeanour of the characters. It’s a very minor gripe, granted, it’s technically sound, as noted above, but could benefit more from ‘descriptive buffing.’ The relationship between Aly and the Chief is very well constructed, and the time and events are presented clearly, well done!

---

Wild Card (6.5)

A point coined for overall clarity and technique, but one lost for using the word Chief far too many times - in future works giving these characters you’ve been working with more of a presence or identity and their own secret thoughts will give you new avenues to explore Aly and to set her place in Althanas.

Score: 74

Rewards:

WitW: 2230 exp | 200 gold

((Side note, this judgment was done by Duffy for his test judgment upon approval. I have not edited any of the content said, but instead edited the numbers just a little bit. The thread was well done, but not perfect, and I hope the score reflects that… Thanks for your patience! We, meaning me and the staff, love you. ))

[Taskmienster]

Exp and gold rewarded!

"god, you suck worse than Garthabel." ((as you said, and whoever the hell Garthabel is you are more terrible than them. SO there. ))

Where in the World is now level 3!