I am writing a story - constructive critics wanted!

[Ever Talbot]

^It's exactly what the title says! I'm going to post what I've written, and you give me your opinions/critiques of it. Remember it's still a work in progress though :)


My oversized paws slammed hard into his chest. My grinning muzzle pulled back into a snarl, long frothy strings of saliva dripping from my teeth. I held his gaze, watching him look me over. Jesters are a rare sight on the colonies, even rarer to see us in full out beast-mode. I couldn’t help but let out a throaty, laughing bark. The kid winced, squeezing his eyes shut tight and seeming to wait for me to sink my teeth into him.<o =""></o>
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My weight shifted as I start the change. Paws become three fingered hands, my muzzle shortens, bones crackle and pop as they move back into their proper places, and into the petite young woman I am. I keep my hands on his shoulders, hoping he’s still frightened enough not to fight back.<o =""></o>
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“Who are you and where is Sef?!”<o =""></o>
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The first five years of my life are missing. None of us have actual memories of our childhoods, and if we do, we never talk about it. There’s part of me that wishes I did remember, even if it was painful. Did I always look like this, or did the scientists make me this way? Did I have parents? Are they still alive somewhere? The only “parents” we’ve ever known were the scientists. And Falk. None of us want to be thought of as “his” children. He is the one who made us this way, altered our genetics and turned us into mish-mashes of animal and human. <o =""></o>
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</o>My “name” is E3023, but the name I’ve given myself is Ever. I’m a jester, a changeling created to help protect the last few bits of humanity left on the smoking heap that was the earth. Except I escaped, with Sef, and have been living free for months now. He’s a jester too. An older version, C2696. He’s a smuggler, taking things and people from the heap to the colonies, rescuing damsels in distress on the side. You could say I’m biased, since he saved my life and all, but he’s the greatest jester ever created. <o =""></o>
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Two months ago, I was bitten. It wasn’t a big bite – a perfect little crescent moon of teeth marks on my right arm. The trainer I was with wasn’t so lucky. I watched them put a bullet in his head before they brought me back here. Most people get sick, die and come back once they’ve been bitten. It had been a week, and I was feeling as fine as I could feel. They kept me in a tiny dog crate, with a thick leather collar around my neck. Scientists would walk by my cage, talking about me like I wouldn’t understand them. “More tests” and “This might be the one!” were what I heard the most, along with a lot of big words I can’t begin to pronounce. <o =""></o>

Soon they were taking me from the crate. It was a Thursday – I could tell because the scientists were whining, wanting it to be Friday so they could go back to their families. I felt a brief tinge of jealously; I’d never known if I had a family at all, or if I was created purely in the lab. I felt myself hunch, the change coming on from too much emotion. Then I was being pushed roughly onto the dusty ground outside the compound. The blistering afternoon sun only emphasized the stench of death that hung in the air. I gagged, putting a hand to my mouth as I got to my knees. The air was filled with the moans of the undead, clamouring for a piece of the tasty humans who surrounded me. Three scientists, four armed guards, a trainer with another jester chained at his side, and him. We rarely saw him, usually he merely barked orders from the safety of the compound, so I knew something different was going on here. Falk was standing in front of me, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.<o =""></o>

[Blind Molly]

I'm intrigued, and the concept seems original so far. :thumbup

I'm sure some of it will make more sense as you add more, such as, what being 'bitten' means, if she's already a jester. :)

Write more! :dance (is LD)

[Ever Talbot]

Bitten by zombies ^_^; I have loads of notes, but havent typed them out or scanned my drawings.

[Knight Staedtler]

:thumbup

I am so glad you posted this.

[Sudoku]

I couldn’t look at him. A knot was growing deep in my gut; I gagged again, my shoulders lurching forward. The change only comes when a jester is extremely emotional – fear, anger, even happiness can trigger it if the emotion is powerful enough. I felt my bones shift, my fingers digging into the sand as dark brown fur sprouted from my knuckles and ran all over my body. The world goes from colorful to shades of gray, my ears pulling back, a low growl rising in my throat. When I was younger, the change was something scary and painful. Now it was part of my everyday, coming easier and easier each time it happened. My muzzle pulled forward into a slightly beakish shape, the distinctive “grin” pulling back to expose rows of sharp teeth. I shook hard, the last of my fur coming in; hackles raised and ready to fight if I had to.

I heard a faint click then my collar was yanked back, pulling me into a sitting position. I whimpered in spite of myself, more from the shock of it then pain. A heavy hand patted my head, and if I could’ve winced, I would have. The hand moved under my chin, lifting my face up so I could stare into his eyes. A knowing smile was on his lips, as he pressed my muzzle so tightly in his hand that I could only snuffle air out my nose. His voice cut through me, making me shut my black, teardrop shaped eyes against his unwavering gaze.

“It’s come to my attention, Ever, that you have been bitten. And yet,” He released my muzzle, wiping a hand on his dark colored pants. He was impeccably dressed, not a stitch out of place or a spot of dust on him. “Here you are. Perfectly fine and showing no signs of infection.”

I wanted to get up, to pounce as hard as I could, to rip into him before the guards could get a shot off. A growl curled my lip, the fur on my shoulder blades rising. I might be stronger then them in this form, but even I’m not bulletproof. Any physical attack can kill me just as easily as it could kill you. Fortunately, that also means Falk and his cronies are just as vulnerable; one good bite, bye-bye arm. So long leg. See ya later throat.


Here is what I've added on -- not a whole lot. I think the jesters' are pretty well described now, as far as looks go. They've kinda gone from being wolfy to more, I dunno, griffiny XD Dogs with beaks.

I also use "then" too much, IMO. I reread the entire thing so far and I'm quite proud of it ^_^; :lol

[Wyl Staedtler]

I only counted three 'thens' and two of them are really just "thans" in disguise. ;)

Muchas smooches to you chica, it's great. Hurry up and post more! :D

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Excellent writing there, I love the description of her transformation. :)