Book Club #1 - 10/15/2018 thru 10/29/2018

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Conrad Jamboy

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Note: Book Club is now LIVE! Review away!

Book Club #1 - Overview

Hey all, and welcome to Multerra's first Book Club! This runs a little bit differently than its predecessor, so here's a brief rundown of what you need to know:

Book Club is an opportunity for you to submit a sample of your writing for review. Other members of the community will read your sample and give you feedback in five core categories, giving you an idea of your strengths and weaknesses as a writer. Book Club runs for two weeks. During those two weeks, you can submit your own sample for entry into the next Book Club, locking down your spot. Once your writing has been in a Book Club, you can't submit again for one month (the next two Book Clubs), to make sure everyone who wants to participate gets their turn.

It costs 10 Tokens to submit a sample of up to 5,000 words to the Book Club. You can make your submission by sending a private message to the Book Club host (for now, that's me!) with your writing sample. Be sure to include 'Book Club Submission' in the subject of the message. A maximum of 3 samples will be accepted per Book Club, to make sure there isn't too much to read and review.

Book Club Review Guidelines
Of course, we'll also need people to read the submissions and review them. Reading and writing are their own rewards, but we're a community striving to help each other improve, so we're not above a little bribery to keep the wheels greased. Thus, reading and reviewing all three submissions will earn you 20 Tokens, paid at the end of the Book Club period. To earn your Tokens, you will be expected to provide feedback in each of the five categories outlined below. There is a requirement of 50 words per category to qualify for the Token payout, but we encourage you to go above and beyond to help out your buddies!

Note: Please avoid including 'grades' with your reviews. Book Club is not a competition, and there are no winners.

*****​

Grammar and Mechanics: Grammar is the structure of written language. It refers to the parts of speech and how they combine together to form sentences. Mechanics refers to the rules of written language, such as capitalization, punctuation and spelling. Does the writing sound natural? Is it formatted well and punctuated correctly? Is there good variation in sentence structure to avoid repetition?

Plot and Pacing: Plot refers to the sequence of events inside a story. Does the story proceed logically? Are there clear conflicts and resolutions? Pacing is just that, the pace of the story. Does the writing flow well and keep you engaged? Does the writer linger too long on minor details, or rush past major details too quickly?

Characterization: Characterization is the process by which the writer reveals the personality of their characters. Do the characters have distinct behavior and dialogue? Do they behave believably? When interacting, are the relationships between characters clear and do they make sense? Do the characters have strong motivations for their actions?

Aesthetic/Creativity: Aesthetic is the 'visual' side of the story. Do the descriptions give you a clear image of the setting and characters? Creativity, in this context, refers to how the writer approaches conflicts and breathes life into their story. Are conflicts resolved in a unique and unexpected way? Does the writing introduce new and exciting facets of the world that you hadn't considered? Are there twists and turns that keep you on the edge of your seat?

Style: A writer's style is a reflection of his or her personality, unique voice, and way of approaching the audience and readers. This is a broad category that allows you to reflect on what sets the writer apart from the others. How do their unique methods of storytelling engage and entertain you? What quirks do they display that you haven't seen before? In short, what sets them apart?
 
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Conrad Jamboy

Always Hunted
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Entry #1 - The Doctor
Excerpt from We R Who We R

“I don’t want to go...”

Tears streaked down the Doctor’s visage as he felt that all-too familiar and horrifying warmth of the regenerative energy bubbling to the surface. He caught the yellow-orange wisps in his peripherals as he shakily lifted his right hand into his field of vision. His fingers were nearly concealed in the glow of the potent energy. His sad, heavy eyes moved to his other hand, which was likewise enveloped.

Turning his attention to the TARDIS console, the Doctor looked upon the beautiful, derelict machine for what would be the last time with his current, weary eyes. Fresh tears broke away from the corner of his eye as he felt the final surge well up within his two hearts. Above the humming of the energy, he heard the TARDIS’ engines flare up—a sad, horrible noise that sounded more like a whimper than the normal roar of her reactors.

And just like that, everything was yellow. The final eruption of energy threw his head back and his arms out as the fury of the regeneration process turned the glow of yellow into surging pillars that spewed forth from his exposed skin. The entire chamber shuddered as the raw power of the outpouring energy tore apart the walls. Chunks of the honeycomb console room were blown away by the blast, and the dense, arched support struts withered and snapped beneath the horrible force.

Even the console itself was consumed in the blast—the delicate assortment of levers and dials erupted into flames as the massive glass cylinder suspended from the ceiling exploded into a thousand sparkling shards of crystal. And even after that first surge, the process did not relent—waves continued to emanate from the Time Lord’s quivering, energy-wreathed form. Fires spread across the cavernous chamber as sparks rained down from cracks in the ceiling.

Through it all, the Doctor remained conscious—his wide, teary eyes staring up through one of the cracks into the void of time. The storms of the Time Vortex surged violently, as if the Vortex itself wept for his passing. His gaze never faltered until he felt that familiar and never pleasant sensation that snapped his eyes shut.

In the next instant, the Time Lord as his recent friends knew him was gone. It was in that moment, his eyes clamped shut and his flesh born anew, that the Doctor let his mouth fall away. A scream—a quick, fleeting scream that sounded utterly new--escaped him before he snapped his eyes open.

The yellow and orange energies of his predecessor’s passing had dissipated, but in their wake, the console room was bathed in fires and still actively in the throes of a cataclysm. Sparks flitted from ruptures in the walls and danced above broken panels. Despite the fact that the room was an inferno and actively shuddering like a person experiencing a seizure, the fresh Doctor found his attention pulled elsewhere.

Looking down, the Time Lord lifted his leg up and grabbed his pants. “Legs! I’ve still got legs.” With a manic grin, he planted a kiss onto the tattered remnants of his predecessor’s pinstripe trousers. “Good!” He added as he patted his hands across his chest and then down his sleeves. “Arms! ...Hands!” The Doctor smiled widely as he flexed and twitched his ten new fingers.

“Fingers... lots of fingers.” He gently clapped his fingers over his ears. “Ears… Very small ones.” They then slipped over his eyes. “Eyes. Two.” One slid down and squeeze his nose. “Nose!” Sticking out his chin, the Doctor ran a hand over it. “Chin.” He then ran both hands through a surprisingly matty head of hair.

“I’m a girl? How progressive of me!” He exclaimed before one of his hands clasped a very distinct Adam’s apple on his throat. “No... no, I’m not a girl.” Reaching back up, he pulled a some of his hair down in front of his eyes to see it wasn’t much different from the brown shade of his predecessor. “Bah, and I’m still not ginger!”

With that done, the Doctor began to glance to and fro, his eyes wide and his lips pulled back in an erratic, tense grin. “Ah... there’s something important! I’m. I’m. I’m...” At that moment, something exploded deep within the TARDIS, and the Doctor was knocked from his feet. He would have slammed face-first into the floor if he didn’t manage to fall right onto the burning, broken console. As he stared up, the realization dawned and a manic smirk spread across his fresh face.

“Crashing!” At that moment, the flames surged once more and the room shuddered again as fresh fires seemed to spew forth from nowhere and everywhere. Outside the TARDIS, the ship, her hull literally consumed in flames, erupted from the time vortex and began an uncontrolled plunge down to the planet Earth.

Inside the blue box, the Doctor whooped and hollered as he ran around the other side of the console, where the view screen had somehow managed to remain intact. Despite the situation, the Gallifreyan text displayed on the window said that the systems were relatively stable. With that same, wide-eyed grin, the Time Lord grabbed both sides of the monitor, threw his head back, and let out a shout. “Yippie kay yay!”

As the TARDIS dropped down from the upper strata, the entire chamber shuddered violently, and the Doctor found himself thrown backwards over the railing. With a dull thud, he landed just a few inches away from a blaze erupting up from a ruptured pipe beneath the grated floor. The flames were close enough to leap onto his suit jacket, which the Doctor quickly shrugged off after retrieving his sonic screwdriver. Putting the device between his teeth, he glanced around with wide, gleeful eyes

Scrambling back up to his feet, he let out a far too energetic ‘woo’ as another shudder threw him down the walkway and clean through the doors of the TARDIS, which must have opened at some point.

With a less enthused yelp, the Doctor grabbed hold of the threshold before he was dropped onto what looked like Washington DC. As the TARDIS zipped over the White House and in a direct line toward the top of the Washington Monument, it became extremely clear to all parties involved that this was Washington DC. Pulling himself up far enough to rest his chest inside the ship, the still smiling Time Lord let out a sigh and aimed the screwdriver at the battered, burning console. The tip of the device light up with a hum as one of the levers clamped down with a pneumatic hiss, sparks spraying out all around it.

The TARDIS let out another groan as she angled upward, causing the Doctor to lose his grip and nearly plunge out of the ship once more. He managed to catch himself with enough time to lift his dangling legs so they could skirt by the tip of the marble obelisk.

A sigh escaped the Time Lord’s lips as his beloved blue box continued to angle upward, away from any more pointy monuments. Immediate crisis averted, he let out a grunt and gradually pulled himself up into the veritable inferno of a console room. Once he was snug inside, he slapped the doors shut behind him and collapsed against them. The wailing, burning machine permitted him only a few seconds as a respite before another explosion shook him back to reality.

***

A little blond girl, a sole streak of purple in her bangs, sat in her room, alone and as apathetic as one could imagine an eight-year-old could get. She was perched on the end of her bed, her blue eyes staring blankly ahead at the drapes. A cool breeze from the cracked window was making them waft ever so softly. Like many nights before, mom and the brothers were running late on their way back home, which meant they probably wouldn’t be back before she fell asleep.

The little girl let out a sigh and fell back onto her bed. As she did, she lifted her hands up and clasped them above her head. “Whoever’s listening, I need a really big favor... I want out of this place.” A tiny scowl spread across her face as she glanced over at her desk, where a book sat open, its pages scrawled with a days’ worth of irritating memories. “School is bad, and I don’t like those people. They’re mean.”

Another sigh escaped her lips as she looked up at the ceiling over her head. In the dark, the white musical notes glowed a vibrant shade of green. Her mother, a songwriter and aspiring performer, had purchased them for her because the two of them shared a love of music. The little girl loved the times she got to go with her mother to the studio and sing. On nights like these, she couldn’t wait for the day she could run away from all of this and become a rock star like Freddy Mercury, Johnny Cash, or Madonna. She’d often imagine herself playing with dinosaurs or fighting the monsters under her bed. “I just want away...”

From the crack of her open window, the little blonde girl heard a bizarre noise—like the sound of grinding gears echoing in and out. Then, a beat later, there was the recognizable sound of something crashing through wood and slamming into the ground. Hopping off her bed, she ran over to the other side of her room, shoved aside the drapes, and threw up the window.

She poked her head outside to see that the backyard shed had been obliterated. Lying in the midst of the smashed structure and its equally flattened assortment of tools and lawn care devices was what looked like a large blue box with a telephone container. A light at the top of the box flared a few times before going out, and the words ‘Police Public Call Box’ emblazoned at the top of each side seemed to both alleviate and muddle the mystery of the crashed object.

Scooping up her coat and flashlight, the little girl scampered down the stairs and burst through her backdoor. As she drew closer to the box, she heard the squeak of old hinges as the ‘top’ side of the tipped over booth fell inward. A beat later, a grappling hook erupted out from somewhere within the small box, and after barely missing her head by a few feet, it landed in the middle of her carousel and latched onto one of the handles once it was pulled taut.

As she watched, a grinning, raggedy-looking man drenched in water hoisted himself up over the edge of the box and slumped onto what would have normally been the base. He glanced around for a few moments before he noticed the girl, whose mouth had fallen open at the sight of the wide-eyed man in the box. “Can I have a pear?” Her brow furrowed as the smiling man continued to gawk at her. “All I can think about are pears. I love pears. Maybe I’m having a craving...that’s new, never had cravings before.”

With a grunt, the damp man pulled himself all the way out of the box and straddled the threshold. Leaning to the side, he looked down into the box. “Woah!” From somewhere inside the blue box, the little girl heard a series of strange, warbling sounds. “Look at that!” He declared as he grinned madly at something she couldn’t see. “I didn’t think water could do that.”

Pursing her lips in what amounted to something between confusion and more confusion, the little girl glanced once more at the label on the box. “Are you okay?”

The man smiled as he swung his leg around so both were on the outside of the box. “Just had a fall. All the way down there, right to the library...heck of a climb back up,” he concluded nonchalantly as he fixed one of his rolled up sleeves.

“You’re soaking wet,” the girl replied.

“I was in the swimming pool,” he shot back.

“You said you were in the library.”

“So was the swimming pool.”

The girl blinked hard as her mind tried to wrap itself around the casual tone of the man’s replies. “Are you a policeman, mister?”

The remark caused the man to furrow his brow and lean forward. “No. Why, did you call a policeman?” He glanced over her shoulder toward the darkened house.

“Did you come about the monsters under my bed?” She asked as she lifted the beam from her flashlight up to his face.

“What monst—ah!” The man’s eyes went wide as he stumbled from his perch and hit the ground in front of the girl.

“Are you all right, Mister?”

“No, I’m fine, it’s okay,” he gasped as he clasped one hand to his chest and held the other up toward her. “This is all perfectly nor—” the raggedy stranger was cut off by a seizing pain in his gut that hunched him over. Lifting his head up, he opened his mouth and breathed out a sparkling yellow puff of air.

The girl’s eyes went wide. “Who are you?”

Visibly more relaxed, the man leaned back and lifted up his hands, which were also sparkling yellow. “I don’t know yet. I’m still cooking.” The girl twisted her features up in yet another exacerbated. confused expression. “Does it scare you?”

“No,” she scoffed as she shook her head a wee bit.

“No, no, no,” he waved his hands, which still glimmered faintly. “The monsters under your bed. Do they scare you?”

“Yes,” she answered, which prompted a fresh grin on the man’s damp face.

“Well then!” He exclaimed as he hopped up off his haunches to a vertical stance. “No time to lose! I’m the Doctor. Do everything I tell you, don’t ask stupid questions, and don’t wander off.” With that, the man pivoted on his heels and marched straight into an oak tree, which lai

“Are you all right?” The girl asked again.

“Early days. Steering’s a bit off.” With another grunt, the Doctor scrambled up to his feet and was led by the little girl through a gate, a back door, and then into her kitchen. He stood in the threshold as she ran over to a bowl on the counter to retrieve a pear.

“If you’re a doctor, why does your box say police?" She inquired as she handed him the fruit.

Staring down at her, the Doctor lifted the pear to his mouth and took a large bite. Without breaking eye contact, he chewed it for a few moments before promptly spitting it out the side of his mouth onto the floor. With a cough, he held the fruit out between them. “That’s disgusting, what is that?”

“A pear,” the girl replied with an incredulous look on her face as the man shook the fruit at her.

“Pears are terrible. I hate pears.”

“You said you loved them.”

“No, I love peanut butter. Peanut butter is my favorite, give me peanut butter.”

Without objecting, she ran back over to the counter, reached up into a cabinet, and grabbed a large plastic jar of peanut butter. Scampering back over the raggedy man, she extended the jar toward him, and he snatched it up. A quick twist removed the lid, which he dropped on the ground, and the Doctor scooped a handful up into his mouth. He held it there for all of three seconds before spewing it out over her shoulder. “I hate peanut butter. It’s just slimy stuff with bits in it.”

“You said it was your favorite,” the girl retorted, unsure whether to be amused or frustrated with the strange, damp man’s eccentric behavior.

“New mouth, new rules,” he answered matter-of-factly as he rubbed away the traces of the gunk from his lips. “It’s like eating after cleaning your teeth. Everything tastes wro—Ah!!” The shout seemed to force itself up from the man’s gut without his consent. If that wasn’t enough, his entire body started to shudder and he clamped a hand over his forehead.

“What is it, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wrong with me? It’s not my fault...why can’t you give me any decent food? You’re… Southern, aren’t you? Can you barbeque something?”

The girl furrowed her brow for a brief moment before spinning around and jogging over to the oven. She twisted the igniter with one hand as the other threw open the nearby fridge. As the Doctor watched, she threw some meat onto a griddle and poured a heaping amount of thick, brown sludge from a Mason jar on top of it.

Moving over to where she was cooking, he grabbed a small towel off a nearby rack and used it to start drying his sopping wet hair. “Ah, barbeque pork!” With his hair dry-ish, the Doctor dropped the towel onto the counter and plopped into a seat on the kitchen’s tiny table. Grabbing a fork that had been left there, he grinned wildly and tapped it on the table as his cook finished tinkering with the food.

A few moments later, the girl sat down across from him and slid him a plate of barbeque pork. Cutting off a chunk, the Doctor stuffed it into his mouth and looked across the table as he chewed. The tiny blonde smiled proudly right up until the strange man’s entire body quivered. He then opened his mouth and scraped off the chunk of meat as if it were venomous. “Pork. That’s pork...” he declared as he leaned forward. “Are you trying to poison me?”

A frown spread across her tiny features as she slid up out of her seat and reignited the burner. The Doctor followed her and watched as she dumped a can of beans into a pot. “Ah, you see? Beans!” He exclaimed before rushing back over to his seat and picking his fork back up. He tapped the fork onto the table for a minute or so before he was rewarded with plate covered in beans. A beat later, he scooped up a mouthful, and after all of one second, he shot up out of his seat and toward the countertop. With a distinct ‘ugh,’ he spat out the entire mouthful of beans into the sink.

He looked over to see a look of shock on his tiny associate’s face. “Beans are evil.” He muttered, his eyes wide with genuine horror. “Bad, bad beans.”

For her next attempt, the girl dropped a slice of bread onto a plate and retrieved a dollop of butter. Sitting down across from the Doctor once again, she spread the butter thickly onto the bread as she glanced up at his expression, which was back to that sort of strange, manic glee.

“Bread and butter,” the happy tone made the girl smile. “Now you’re talking. An American staple… or something.” He added with a nod as she slid the plate over to him.

The Doctor took barely one bit before lunging out of the seat—plate and all—and making a beeline for the back door. He threw open the door with one hand and then flung the plate like a Frisbee out into the night. “And stay out!” He shouted as a cat meowed in the distance.

When he arrived back in the kitchen, the Doctor began to pace back and forth as the girl glanced through her fridge. “We’ve got some carrots.”

“Carrots? Are you insane!” The man declared as he spun to face her. “No, wait...hang on.” He added as he rushed over to her. “I know what I need. I need. I need... I need...” He threw open the freezer door and grabbed a box as his other hand found a tupperware container. “Corndogs and jello.”

A few moments later, the Doctor was sitting at the kitchen table, happily swirling a corndog through the plastic container of jello. Using the deep-fried hotdog on a stick as a spoon, he lifted a mound of jello up to his mouth and joyfully devoured it as he stared across the table at the little girl. She was also smiling as she ate ice cream straight from the box, using the scoop as a spoon. Once he swallowed the mouthful, he repeated the action with the remaining half of the corndog, and then he tipped back the tupperware and gobbled down the cherry jello until all that was left were the bits fused to the sides of the plastic.

“Funny,” she remarked as he set down the tupperware and sloppily chewed the gelatinous mouthful.

“Am I?” He inquired. “Good. Funny’s good. What’s your name?”

“Kesha. Kesha Rose.”

The Doctor furrowed his brow, thinking he should remember something that he couldn’t place. After a moment, he shrugged his shoulders before realizing he had never responded. “Ah! That’s a brilliant name. Kesha...like some type of alt-rock fairytale princess. Are in the South, Kesha?”

“Yea, you guessed it. Brentwood, Tennessee,” she answered with a noticeable sadness in her voice. “I was born in Los Angeles, though. I want to go back when I’m older. It’s crap here.”

“So what about your mom and dad?” The Doctor asked between bites of another corndog. “Are they upstairs? Thought we would have woken them by now...”

“I don’t have a dad, and my mom is with my brothers.”

“I don’t have a dad or a mom or brothers,” the Doctor replied with an awkward smile painted red with cherry jello stains.

“You’re lucky...” she replied as she turned her sad, blue eyes to the empty rooms over her head.

“I know,” he shot back with another grin. “So your mom and brothers...where are they?”

“They’re out.”

“And they left you all alone?” The Doctor scoffed as he used the corndog to shovel another mouthful of jello.

The remark caused Kesha to straighten her back and purse her mouth. “I’m not scared.”

“Of course you're not, you’re not scared of anything! Box falls out of the sky, man falls out of box, man eats corndogs and jello, and look at you, just sitting there. So you know what I think?”

“What?” She asked with a tilt of her head and a little gesture from a small hand.

“Must be a hell of a scary monster under your bed.”

Kesha mulled it over before giving a small nod, prompting a wide grin from the Doctor, who pushed away from the table and made his way upstairs. Realizing she’d been left behind, she made a detour at the fruit bowl before following the raggedy stranger. She arrived in her doorway to see the man on his hands and knees with a strange flashlight-looking device.

“Oh, you’ve had some cowboys in here,” he quipped as he brought the illuminated blue tip of the device up to his face and gave it a thwack with his index finger. “Not actual cowboys...although that can happen.” The Doctor stood up off the ground to see Kesha standing in her doorway with another pear in her hand.

“I used to hate pears, so my mom put faces on them,” with that, she walked over to the raggedy man and handed him another fruit. He accepted it with a warm smile and turned it around to see that she had tenderly carved a smiling face on it.

“She sounds good, your mom,” he remarked as he tossed the pear up and caught it in his hand. “I’ll keep it for later,” he replied as he dropped to his knees again and stared at the black space under her bed. “Ever wonder why it’s always dark under here, even when the room’s completely lit up?” He asked with a grin as he swept the space with his blue stick.

“...No?” Kesha replied as she went on her hands and knees next to him. Now that she looked under there at that dark, empty space, she did wonder if it always looked so black.

“Well,” the Doctor said as the tip of his stick blinked out mid-sweep. The raggedy man frowned for a moment and tapped it a couple of times before it lit back up. “There are certainly some monsters under here. Unless you live to be about two hundred years old, I don’t think you have to worry about them maturing and devouring you,” he added rather nonchalantly as he stood up and pocketed the stick.

“But what…”

The Doctor glimpsed at her. She still looked sad. Unsettled, almost. “Okay, then,” he replied as he grinned. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small little device. “You know when grownups tell you that everything’s going to be all right, and you probably think they’re lying?”

“Uh huh,” Kesha replied in a tone that told her she hadn’t heard that phrase for the first time.

“Well… everything’s going to be all right,” the Doctor grinned as he ran the tip of the sonic along the edges of the oversized computer chip. A beat later, he chucked it under the bed. Lifting the screwdriver, it buzzed a few more times before the faded musical notes on the girl’s ceiling started to glow bright. “Well nothing exploded. That’s a bonus.” He chuckled as turned, saw her diary, and scooped it up.

Before the girl could protest, the man started thumbing through her open diary, his lips tight in a frown as he read words quicker than anyone should be able to. “Hey!” Kesha shouted as she pulled the book from the desk and slipped it into a drawer.

“You shouldn’t let people bring you down,” the Doctor spoke with that warm smile as he reached up onto a shelf above her desk and retrieved a bottle of glitter. “I’m going to say from the hair that you make it an effort to separate yourself from others, but the problem is, you either have to go big or go home. Me? I ran. I ran as fast as I could and I never looked back.”

Kesha shrugged her shoulders as she tenderly ran her hands over her purple streak.

“Ahh!” He shouted as he popped the cap off and walked over to her. “Rule of thumb: Glitter makes everything more awesome,” before the little girl could react, the Doctor drew something on her face with the tiny bottle of dry-on glitter. “There you go, you wanna see?”

With a grin, Kesha nodded her head. Reflecting her enthusiasm, the Doctor stepped out into the hallway and began to glance around at the numerous doors that lined the rather cramped passage. Kesha ran out after him, but before she could get a word out, they both heard the distant thrum of what sounded like a giant gong or bell. Whatever the sound was, it made the color drain from the raggedy man’s visage.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” The Doctor shouted as he spun around and started sprinting for the stairs, leaving the bewildered little girl to follow after him as he leapt down the stairs three at a time and made a beeline for the backdoor. “I’ve got to get back in there!” He shouted as he erupted through the door into the backyard. “The engines are phasing. She’s going to burn!”

“But...” Kesha shouted as she followed him to in front of the toppled box. “It’s just a box. How can a box have engines?”

“It’s not a box,” the Doctor replied as he undid his grappling hook and spun around to face her. “It’s a time machine.”

“What, a real one? You’ve got a real time machine?” She asked as he ran around to the other side of the police box.

“Not for long if I can’t get her stabilized,” he remarked in a rushed but still casual tone as he tossed the newly lassoed rope down into the box. “But a five-minute hop into the future should work.”

Kesha looked down at her feet, back at her boring home, and then back to the erratic, raggedy man in front of the blue box with the orange glow. “Can I come?”

“Not safe in here...not yet,” he answered as he continued to feed the rope in. “Give me five minutes. I’ll be right back.” With that, he hopped up onto the toppled box and stared at something inside.

“People always say that,” Kesha muttered as she frowned.

The girl’s despondent tone gave the man pause. He spun around and hopped back down to the ground. Walking over to her, he crouched down to her eye level and smiled at her. “Am I people? Do I even look like people? Trust me, I’m the Doctor.”

When he saw a smile start to creep across the young girl’s face, the Doctor turned back and hopped up onto his box once again. He glanced over at her and held her smile for a few moments before slipping off the ledge and into the orange glow. “Yippie kay yay!”

The Doctor’s voice echoed up for a few more moments before the doors snapped shut and a strange, gentle thrum began to emanate from the box. The orange light on the top started to glow as wind kicked up around it, knocking Kesha’s hair back as she continued to smile. As she watched, the blue box slowly faded away until only the wrecked remains of the shed were left behind.

*****​

Entry #2 - Labor 9
Excerpt fom Such Beautiful Eyes You Have

Recorded: 02/18

There are rumours of a bird man who stalks outside the city at night, no one knows what exactly he does, but there have always been whisperings. Whisperings that he eats children. Whisperings that anyone who walks beyond the borders he sees as willing toys to play with. Whisperings that anyone who visits him, never come back. And you know what? It’s all true.

Suddenly a man steps into half the frame, he is so close only his chest with the lab coat and sweater can be seen. ”I thought I told you that this was meant to be top secret.” The voice was a calm monotone and male in nature, it’s almost emotionless sound quite unsettling.

”Come on, I was just having a little fun.” Replied the female voice from earlier, now obviously in a puff.

”You can’t have fun, this a workplace, you are meant to work.” There was a short pause. ”Though I guess if you must record this you can just keep the camera in here.

”Thank you!” The camera ends up on a table, facing away from the duo as the male grunts. ”Ah, still not use to hugs then…”

~~~

Recorded: 02/25

”So, what’s our first expartmatation together doc?”

Without the surprise interuption, the camera was ble probably focus on the man in the lab coat, His back turned away from the camera. His hair was long, and was a shade of dirty brown, the style becoming messier as you pan our eyes down, a nice purple ribbon tying up his ponytail. “You do know you can call me Shuu right? We are partners now, not student and senior staff anymore.”

“O-Oh yeah. I totally knew that.” She didn’t. ”I was just making it sound better for the video” She wasn’t.

“Well anyway, we are working on the Labor 3 model. After realizing we needed live test subjects for this, I decided it was best t test on animals first. Hence why this is in the shape of a bird, not a human like the last one. But like the last one, all we are going to do is test how well it moves from a controller for proof of concept. If you would Miss Tosaka.”

”Why certainly.” The camera was put down in a near-by bench, the birdy exoskeleton picking itself up a moment later.

”Good, Good…”

”Shu, I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

”Just keep it steady…”

As the machine hurls itself around the room, a very valiant laughter coming from Hiyoko, it flew start into the camera, stopping the footage.

~~~

Recorded: 03/25

“Okay, we are back with the testing of Labor 4!” The video shows evidence of the previous test, a small crack running along the bottom.

”Still in the proof of concept phase because Someone broke the last model.”

”Oh, yeah… sorry about that.” Hiyoko laughed nervously at the previous engagement. ”Maybe… you, should pilot this time, sugarplum?”

”That was the plan yes.” The man counterd back in his useral montone. ”And I would suggest you keep nicknames out of the lab, in here we have a more… professional relationship.”

~~~

Recorded:04/10

A fat grey bird appears on screen, a white streak down it’s stomach and what appears to be a patch of blood on it’s chest. The creature bobbed up and down as a bad impression of an anime protagonist begun. ”Dark sorcerer Wallenstein, last we met was eons ago, at the coming of the darkness. Now I have traversed the Cosmic Soup of Time to finish what we did start all those years ago.”

”Would you not play wit the test subjects please…

~~~

Recorded:06/15

Unlike the other videos, this one’s background isn’t the lab. Instead, it appears to be a foggy barren wasteland, with the occasional big rock or human convenience.

“Hey everybody! That everybody being me, I guess… Both me and Shuu are currently exploring the wilderness for an humanoid like creature. We thought it best to separate to try and cover more ground more quickly.”

*Snap*

“W-what was that?” The sound of objects under foot came closer and closer, until, suddenly, the camera span around, able to record the last few seconds of a roundhouse kick into a shadowy figures face. Panning down, this the figure was revealed to be shuu. “Oh my god, Oh my god, I’m so sorry. What do I do, What do i do.”

~~~

Recorded: 06/16

A brown book lay on a desk, simply labeled ‘diary’. A hand opens it.

”’At first I started developing these machines as a way to allow people to work more efficiently, be stronger… but lately, I relized it can help with other stuff. It can allow people access to abilities their own bodies made impossible long ago, or allow them to live, to experience, to feel for longer. Hiyoko helped me see that … Oh my little chickadee…’ This, this is one of the reasons I fell in love with him. And so I’m gonna go back outside the borders to try and find a subject again, for him. Tomorrow.

~~

Recorded: 08/17

Back in the lab, Shuu seems to be working on a new model. “Could you pass me the screwdriver little chickadee?”

”Why certainly sugarplum.” Hiyoko made a point to empathize the last word of her sentence.

”I thought I told you to keep nicknames out of the lab miss Tosaka.”

”You should tell yourself that. It was extraordinary obvious how much the girl was enjoying this.

Shuu on the overhand completely froze what he was doing to thing. ‘... Ho Ho Ho. I guess I should do.”

~~
Recorded: 11/10

The video follows the path from the door to the corridor, to the inside of the main lab. ”Shu.

”Yes Hikoyo.” The brown haired man was comfy in his chair working.

”You know what day it is today, right?” She said coyly.

”It’s our anniversary, correct?”

”Yes, and I have a surprise for you…” The girl could hardly keep her excitement in as she tried to lead him on.

”If it’s you asking to marry me, then I say yes.”

There was a prolonged silence. ”What, is me saying yes not what you wanted?’

No! I MEAN YES! It is, but… but you took the surprise nd fun out of it.” She pouted the last part.

”We could try it again if you want.”

”No, your monotone nature will probably do the same thing anyway.” A par of lips appeared in fram to kiss the doctors right cheek. ”But I love it anyway

~~

Recorded: 11/30

Sounds of gunshots could be heard off in the distance, a frantic Shuu Iwamine facing directly towards the camera. ”Hiyoko, I am so sorry. So very very sorry. I was only trying to help, I didn’t want it to end like this. Now your gone, and I lost more then I would have if I didn’t try to save you. Please. Just please forgive me.

The footage suddenly cuts out.

*****
Entry #3 - Michael Afton
Excerpt from Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria

Steak was having a very bad day at work. He had already had to deal with two colossal kid turds off being excreted onto the ceramic floor of the Eastern Hall, and now a third had to just show up barely a few inches from the Bathroom doors. He had to wonder how much food a normal kid had to be able to stuff inside their bellies to be able to produce so much shit in a given day.

The worst part of it all was the odor. His wettened snout wrinkled the moment he stepped near the Eastern Hall and it hung over his fur like a wet blanket. He rolled his tongue out of the side of his open jaws and let it hang there; he panted, trying to cool off from a combination of the foul stench and a busted air conditioner that the mechanics were currently fixing.

Being on his way to check on their progress, he decided to take a quick shortcut through the main attraction of his restaurant: The Dining Hall. His ears perked up; music, goofy but no less pleasing to the ear, with guitars strumming and high voices filled the air around him and grew louder as he approached from the Western Hallway.

Then, after a mere step around the corner, he entered the Dining Hall.

Children of various species and sizes zipped around the room. They played within the rows between the lines of dining tables and chairs. Pizza crusts, meat sauce, and birthday hats covered the white curtains sprawled on top of each table. Columns of pizza boxes, each adorned with a painting of the headliner of the Pizzeria etched onto the cardboard, stood tall over the youthful roughhousing below them, although not as tall as the colorful balloons that floated around, greeting children on their trips to the ceiling above. Steak’s eyes followed the balloons as they slipped past a sparkling disco ball and the ceiling stage-lights. These lights beamed downwards towards the stage directly in the middle of the room, illuminating the icons of the Pizzeria, the headliners of every act, the performers of every song, and the idols of every children with a pulse in Arcadia.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” An announcer’s voice rocketed around the room, silencing the festivities and the music, “please give it up for Freddy Fazbear and his Funtime Rock Band!”

The three members of the band: a slender, yellow chicken in a bib, a tall, plastic-looking bunny, and a cartoonishly rotund brown bear bowed in robotic unison. Cheers and praise spurned them back upwards for yet another song. The new song, peppy, with a pink, bubblegum texture, echoed around the hall, mixing melodiously with the pulse of the dancing patrons inside.

The sight of such joy seemed to swipe away the foul odor that once plagued Steak. With a small smile, he navigated the room to the Eastern Halls and proceeded down them.

As he walked down the Eastern Hall, passing posters of the Fazbear Gang, of pizza and cakes, and advertisements for future events, his ears perked up once more. A discussion, faint, sounded from down the hall. Frowning, Steak continued down the hall. His snout picked up an unfamiliar scent, and the smell itself convinced him to move a little faster.

A few moments later, he turned a corner that connected this Hallway to the other Hallway, and met a new sight. A man in a purple suit, blue tie, and purple fedora, chatting and laughing with the two mechanics as they worked on the air conditioner above.

Curious, Steak stepped around the corner.

“Excuse meh?” He said, his accent mumbling and distorting his words a bit as a thin trail of slobber ran down the edge of his mouth.

The man in the purple suit turned his head away from the mechanics and towards Steak. A smile on his face, he stepped forward.

“Hello there, my canine friend!” He said, bowing his head forward and removing his hat. Long, curly red hair popped out, freed from the cage of the hat.

“Pleasure to meet ya.” Steak replied, reaching forward to rub the man’s head with his paw. He leaned forward to reciprocate the greeting gesture.

“I take it you are the Manager for Day Shift here?” The man said, retracting his hand from the canine’s head.

“Inteet I em. What service can I provide you?”

“Service? Just wanted to stop by and say hello to my economic partners!”

“Economic-”

The canine’s black eyes widen. His tail starts to wag for the first time since the otherwise stress-filled day had began.

“You are the new CEO?” He asked.

“Henry Charlotte,” Henry replied, his smile widening as he tipped his fedora at him, “at your service!”

“It’s good to make your acquaintance! I… hope the new position isn’t too stressful.”


Henry shook his head. “Ah, not at all. Still, I understand if seeing a new face as your CEO will be a bit odd, so I’ve taken to visiting as many restaurants as I can to ensure the employees remember it!”

“Huh.” Steak replied. He certainly couldn’t remember William ever doing something like that. His tail wagged faster at the thought of future appearances from Henry. It would definitely be a morale boost, especially on days like these! It would definitely help with dealing with the janitor too.

“Well, as you may know, I’m Steek. Day Shift Manager. You have met Bub and Rub, yes?”

Bob and Rob, twin yellow octopi wearing the signature purple outfit of Fazbear’s Pizzeria employees, nod their collective heads before going back to work on the air conditioner above.

“Indeed I have!” Henry replied before frowning a bit. “In fact, I’ve met everyone here except…”

“Except…?”

“Except for one. I passed by him and tried to greet him, but he just stared down at his mop and turned away from me. Does he do that often?”

Steak whined, pawing the top of his snout. “I take it you met the janitor?”

“Yes?”

“Apologies, sir, but I recommend ignoring him, sir. He is a very troublesome boy.”

“Oh come now, I’m certain he isn’t as bad as you claim.”

“Not from what I’ve seen of him.”


A loud smack splintered from behind Henry. Steak’s ears perked up. Both he and Henry walked towards the sound of the noise.

The janitor stood in the middle of the hallway, his back turned away from Steak and Henry. His thin arms tightened around the wooden shaft of the mop as he brushed the soaked yarn tendrils across the muddied ceramic tiling beneath him. He seemed to seep into the walls around him, no doubt helped by his small height. He commanded little presence, and what presence he had stood in direct contrast to the restaurant around him. Compared to the black and white tilings of the floor, he stood as a dark, purplish blob, and his slouched form contrasted with the dutiful posture of every employee that walked past him. He kept his head down, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, not even the children that occasionally walked past him and tried to see underneath his white baseball cap.

Steak stepped forward, ready to question the teen, before Henry held an arm out in front of him. His smile returned and he gazed at the janitor.

“Excuse me?” He called to him.

The slouched figure flinched. He immediately stood back up at attention. He did not, however, turn around.

The new CEO of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria walked down the hall to approach the boy. He continued cleaning the brown off of the floor; each step caused him to hug his mop closer to his chest.

“Excuse me? It’s Henry Charlotte again. What was that noise?” Henry said, stopping just a few feet from the boy.

The janitor, like a clock, slowly turned to face the CEO. Soft, blue eyes under a thick shadow provided by his baseball cap gazed up at Henry. Tiny curls of brown hair poked out from underneath his hat, and he could see splotches of freckles underlining his eyes. He stared, his tired-looking eyes conveying the only emotion that his stone face could not.

“I… dropped my mop.” The boy said, almost mumbling his words. His eyes darted away and he stepped back.

“I see,” Henry said before looking down at the mop, “what are you cleaning?”

“The bathroom, sir. The boss ordered me to clean up some sh- some poop a child left on the floor.”

The teen lowered his head again to resume his mopping, shutting up. It didn’t take more than a few more swipes for the boy to finish cleaning up the remains of the offending excretion. He picked up the mop and set it inside the yellow water bucket he rolled with him before placing a caution sign right next to the wet, shiny, clean spot.

“I don’t think I caught your name, mister…?” Henry asked.

The boy paused. He glanced towards the CEO underneath the rim of his cap. He opened his mouth for a brief moment before clamming up.

“Sorry, I’m… I’m off my shift.” he said before grabbing the water bucket and advancing past him. The wheels squeaked and squawked as he walked towards Steak. The humanoid canine tensed up as the boy approached; he stared down the boy with all the intensity of a bloodhound hunting a scent.

“Sir? May I get an early dismissal? I have an important test at school today and… I need to keep my grades up.”

The dog sighed. “Alright. Your backpack is with the guard at front.”

“Thank you, sir…”

He looked away from his boss and walked past him, heading to the Janitor’s Closet a few feet away from the Bathrooms. After stashing his supplies back inside, removing his employee uniform, and putting on his blue and gold school uniform, he exited the closet and made his way into the Dining Hall.

Things were starting to settle down, the music dimmer and the lights a bit brighter. Most of the kids were eating their food at this point alongside their parents. The teen hugged the walls of the Dining Hall, hoping his small stature would not arouse suspicion or unwanted looks from any patron.

As he glanced up to check for the exit, however, he saw a familiar sight. The animatronics on the stage, formerly bowed to receive applause, now stood in locked, alarmed form. Their robotic eyes, cartoonish and round behind their animal masks, glared down at the boy, trailing him as he made his way out. They never removed their eyes off of him for even an instant; any parent would provide over-watch over a crowd, after all, if it meant their children remained safe from harm. The boy could not blame them for their basilisk gaze, for it was the only response that was sensible in dealing with somebody like him.

Exiting the Dining Hall, he enters the Atrium, where more kids and parents awaited. He walked past blinking arcade machines and a lone robotic boy with balloons in his hand. He walked to the front, where the Day Guard stood with his backpack in hand. He took it, thanked the man for holding onto it, and wordlessly exited the building and onto the wooden, cobblestone paths of Arcadia.
 
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We R Who We R

Grammar and Mechanics:
In general you do well with these. It's usually well formatted and your sentence structure flows well. I didn't get stuck or have to re-read anything and I didn't notice any spelling it grammatical errors. It's a well proofread piece. I think caring your sentence length might help, but I'll get into that later.

Plot and Pacing
Ok so the real question that I wanna ask is: is it different ENOUGH from the actual episode to be fun? And I think, yes, in most places. You change things up enough for it to me an obvious homage instead of just a scene by scene recounting. I think there might be a little bit more space for some changes so it doesn't feel QUITE as same-y, but it's still strong and unique enough to be fun and engaging.

Characterization
I mean, this is the part of a new Doctor we all get excited for. We wanna know how they ACT, how they're different, what their quirks are. This writing captured a lot of Matt Smith's manic energy, and I found it difficult to imagine anyone but him in the role, but I think there's gonna be space for us to get to know the new Doctor in time. Knowing how you run the character ahead of reading this, I would have liked to see a bit more... Hitting sarcasm, I guess? He's Matt Smith levels of nice boy in this, which might be a shift from the original style you wrote him in, but if he's like I remember him, I want some more of that tannic humor.

Aesthetic/Creativity
You're always straightforward. It's clear in your mind what's happening as you read it, but as I'll get into below, it can get a tad bit dry. Like, again, super clear, fun visuals, fun storytelling, just like always. I just tend to find it not quite purple as I tend to prefer sometimes. It's just your writing style, but I'd like to see you shake it up a tad. Heroes Graveyard is honestly my best example if this: you tell the story, but you don't linger on the details, and sometimes it can feel procedural.

Style
Your sentence length is often short, which sometimes gives it a quippy, fast paced feeling, though I think sometimes it leaves things feeling a little "dry." I think indulging is sometimes in more juicy, lavish description might help the work feel a little more rich in places. The dry, pithy charm with strong visualization is what your writing is best known for, and why it's often praised, but I do think breaking that in a few places might be a good idea. Then again, I'm a weird purple monster, so grain of salt.
 
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Such Beautiful Eyes

Grammar and Mechanics: Overall it read pretty well! I think the sentence structure could be a little confusing in places, but ideal it was a good read. There were definitely a free places that could have used more proofreading, which would have made it better, such as:

it flew start into the camera
”You should tell yourself that. It was extraordinary obvious how much the girl was enjoying this.

Plot and Pacing:
I'm not quite sure I fully grasp the story arc in this one. I get the basic beats: they're making a robot, they're romantically involved, the robot goes missing, then... It kills them? I guess? The "found footage" format was cool, but I think that setting up the scenes a bit more, or providing more descriptive detail in each scene would have helped string them together.

Characterization:
The rep primary characters got a lot of personality for the time we saw them, which had to have been tough in the small spaces you had to play with them. It was done almost entirely with dialogue, so good work there. I think more descriptive detail for the way they moved, what they were doing, how they looked, all would have helped make them feel a bit more real.

Aesthetic/Creativity:
Again, the found footage style is a cool idea. I think you did a good job providing that kinda weird, clip by clip feeling. Again, I would have looked more depth.

Style:
I would say that it's got a strong tone, and I felt like I could feel your presence in the story. While I wouldn't say that this style of working is like, strongly "unique" it was clear that it was written with a person with this specific intent in mind. It has an eerieness to it. Leaning in the shirt, clinical style if writing would work well for stuff like this in the future, but make your clinical notes a little more fleshed out
 
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We R Who We R
Grammar and Mechanics:
With the exception of just a few words missing entirely, this is solid work. I wouldn't expect any less from the legend though. There was only one point in the selection that I had to stop and re-read, but I don't know if it was a grammar issue or just me not following. I totally agree with BWNN, shorter quippy sentences, hardly any glaring errors. Very well put together.

Plot and Pacing:
It was strangely slow for me at the beginning, I'll explain a bit later why, but I just struggled to start this piece. After the small bit of awkwardness, it was paced very well; Very believable. I admittedly liked the second half than the first, if only because of how cute and quirky the interaction was with the two. I also think that was your main focus of this post and it was executed nicely.

Characterization:
I like these characters. From the man who doesn't know what he likes and what he doesn't to the 8 y/o emo angsty girl. The interaction between the two had me laughing a good bit. The obvious and in your face parts were great, but I personally enjoyed the subtle hints sprinkled in as well. The part with him calling her out with just the streak of purple really stuck in my head. You've made me want to keep reading, to learn more about these two.

Aesthetic/Creativity:
In this post, I think this was the weakest category. Aesthetics in particular. Did I have a clear enough picture to follow the story? Yes. Could I imagine a backyard, a kitchen, a hallway, and a bedroom? Yes. Was I pulled in enough for the finer details not to matter? Yes. But I would have really liked to see the same room you saw in your head, and I don't think I did. A small critic for sure, because as stated those details were important for this scene.
Style:

I am a fan, but probably not your biggest. In the beginning, it felt dry and devoid of any voice. It was a struggle to start. When I got into the meat of this, however, it was great and it kept getting better. Maybe it was just because of the dreaded first post/starting a new story that all of us have struggled with, or maybe you weren't really feeling it. I like what it ended up being which succeeded in pulling me in, and that's what important.

I didn't know where to put this, but the phrase "raggedy man" came up a lot. I know the struggle, so it's not really a critic so much as a 'hey you might not have noticed, but'.

All around, great job~!

Such Beautiful Eyes You Have
Grammar and Mechanics:
I think you would benefit most from taking the time to proofread your work. I saw a lot of mistakes that I could just filter out as I read, but when I looked back through it they stood out quite a bit. I've benefited a lot myself from just going back a couple extra times to make sure my tense changes are minimized. I see a lot of just common mistyping. Where you hit space and it ends up being halfway through one word. Or incomplete words.

Plot and Pacing:
The dates on the recordings are a good way to show the pacing, but it still felt a little rushed from my perspective. I believe this plot is pre-established, this may be from the game? I haven't played it, unfortunately. It's simple, it's nice, it works. I just would have liked more definition I suppose.

Characterization:
So we have Shuu and Hiyoko. You did a good job of telling us who was talking and reacting. You also defined them with cues like text formatting. Was I attached to either of them? No. Building off of what I was saying before, it works but I would have personally liked more. More details, more definition of the personalities. I would have liked to feel Shuu's pain instead of reading it.

Aesthetic/Creativity:
I think this was your strongest point. It was interestingly presented. As BWNN said, the found footage style was a very interesting way to present this to us. It felt unique but also familiar. Kind of similar to the way games presents a series of recordings or cutscenes as recorded videos. And again. Just wished there had been more. My advice would be to read it over a couple of times. It helps with grammar and filling out more details. Just ask yourself, "Is the imagery I want, here?"

Style:
I feel as though your post needed more to better define the style you were going for. It has a lot going for it, but there's no real voice to it. Perhaps that was the tone you were looking for? It just is really lackluster which is strange because I was under the impression you were obsessed with this game and the content in it. So I was hoping for a labor of love and I just got 'It's okay'. Don't be afraid to put more passion in your writing.

Great job!

Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria
Grammar and Mechanics:
No major misspellings were found, and I didn't see any glaring issues where it comes to grammar. I did find it strange that you capitalized 'Hallway' twice in the middle of the sentence. Maybe it has something to do with the games and I am just ignorant. I, unfortunately, don't feel very qualified in this category because I am still working on my own. Back to you though, it had a really nice flow, but there was a part at the end that gave me trouble.

While I was able to understand enough of what was going on, the last two paragraphs felt really repetitive and confusing. I'd say stretch it out a bit more and clarify things a bit in similar situations. Maybe there was a little bit a rush there. Still, overall great job!

Plot and Pacing:
The pace is slow, but it doesn't feel like it. It's very calm and 'normal'. I enjoyed that it had this eerie twist at the end, as one would expect with a setting like Five Nights At Freddy's. It certainly was not the turn I was expecting it to go, though I had no idea how you were going to slip the main theme in there. Great job!

Characterization:
This piece shows a lot of characters, and none of them melt together given how little content there is. We have Steak who is happy to be working here but damn today. We have the owner, who gives off a smooth but slightly Pimp feel - maybe its the fedora, and the kid that no one wants to trigger who actually is probably more scared of them.

Aesthetic/Creativity:
You've done so much with so little, I can get behind this. This is the details I like. The atmosphere is established, the tone is nicely presented, the imagery is easy to imagine. I didn't get why you used the term 'etched' for the pizza boxes, but that isn't even an issue. I thought the focus on Steak was a good move, building up the janitor to be someone I assumed would be the old stubborn man hating on fun, only to reveal him as the wallflower kid was a nice touch.

Style:
There is a flavor in your writing that I appreciate, that I am drawn to. I like it. You are pretty clever as well, shown by your way of manipulating the scene. I want to know who this janitor is, why the Freddy gang is glaring at him, what is going on with the families. You've drawn me in on so many levels. Fantastic job.

Awesome read!
 
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