Narrators Corner

Last updated on 7 years ago
Pritrostell
Pritrostell Posted 8 years ago
I sat back in my chair and sipped on my coffee. Opening the book I began to read aloud.

"Narrators Corner by: Insert Name Here"

Odd I thought, who would write a story and not claim it as their own? A quick turn of the page revealed the answer to me.

"This book is written by you, the reader, and whoever else may be reading with you. It is really simple to read this book, and to help I've set up a small list of instructions.

1) You, the reader, become the narrator when you begin to speak (post). You must always narrate the story being told and add yourself into the story.

2) You may have dialog in your story but it may only be your own. Each person shall speak for themselves when they feel it is time to join in.

3) You must play along for the sake of playing along. It is much more fun and entertaining if you don't veer the story in a senseless direction (Ex. person before you is at an ice cream store and you respond with eating cupcakes with that person in a construction site.)


So, to clarify, you can give action to other characters but not voice. You can go on a date with them, fight with them, or even make them walk around town in a chicken costume but you must have a semi-valid reason and you cannot give them voices."

I took a sip of my coffee and continued reading out loud.

"Now that you know how to read this book, it has begun. Please enjoy and thank you for writing such a great story. Really, I quite enjoyed it."

I hear a cough and look up to find someone sitting in front of me on a stool

"And you are?"
__________________________________________

I grab the freshly washed grizzly skin, which still holds the warmth of it's previous owner despite it's chilly bath in the nearby river...
Shinalisz
Shinalisz Posted 8 years ago
/I hope I got the rules rightSmile/

I sat in a bar. It wasn't anything new, though I didn't know this particular place.
I seated myself by the counter, on a slender, and uncomfortable stool. Why do they have to make these things so uncomfortable anyway?
I sat there for a minute or so, waiting for the bartender, who seemed to be deeply engaged in a conversation. He was a huge guy, probably as tall as wide, with short salt and pepper hair and beard.
I leaned on the wooden counter, trying to be noticed, without any success. Tiny just shot an annoyed glance at me and continued talking.
My crappy day is just getting worse by the minute.
A few hours ago I got mocked by some cops, who think women are not suited for work as a P.I., which earned me an unpaid, unfinished case. I thought I would go and relax for a bit, maybe even calm down, but now the damned bartender doesn't even care to get me a glass of water.

'Men should learn to respect women more.' I grumbled, loud enough for the bartender to hear. 'What do you think?' I turned to the man "“ who else would it be "“ beside me by the counter. He has been reading something, in the company of a cup of coffee, and didn't seem to notice me. I coughed to get his attention.
When he looked up and asked who I was, I just snorted. 'That's what I'm talking about..'

'Look man; I'm just a pissed off woman, trying to make her day better. ' I answered, not even thinking if the guy might think, I'm some kind of crazy or just simply an idiot. I shook my head to myself and added; sounding more calm and rational. ' Nevermind... Don't even listen to me.'

Then I turned to the fat man again and waved my hand towards him, then made a pistol out of my fingers, pointing it at him. 'Hey, Tiny! Get me a drink, or I'll shoot you!'
"I'm the most afraid of people seeing me as I see them."
Don Roble
Don Roble Posted 8 years ago
Oh great, I thought, another feminist threatening to shoot me. What is it with women that they all want to hurt me? It had been quiet all evening. Now the woman sitting next to the quiet coffee drinker was on a rampage.

"Sure, whatever you want. Just point that gun at someone else. My ex is at the end of the bar. Shoot her and the drink's on the house."

I really hated my ex, the heartless bitch.
last edited by Don Roble on 25-09-2010 04:24
Kerri-Emmitt
Kerri-Emmitt Posted 8 years ago
I snort with laughter into my coffee cup and I can already feel the glare from the woman sat next to me. I catch the bartenders eye briefly and with his mischievous glare I already know things are gonna get out of hand. This woman just wont shut up.

She's been complaining about Life in general for the past five minutes. Apparently all us men are dickheads, only out for what we can gain and will push anyone off of the top spot to get what they want. Thing is, I wish I could disagree with her; I had done exactly that, and very recently too.

I quickly look over to the woman next to me, just in time to see her raising from her stool and leaning over the bar. She slams her fist down onto the brass bar and demands to be served.

Okay, here's my time to move.

The bartender saunters up to her with a look of pure wicked encouragement, like he's been board all day and now suddenly, he has something to play with.

Shit, this is really going to kick off.

I slip off my chair as subtly as I can manage and begin to walk to the darkest side of the bar.
Administrator

I'm drowning here, and you're describing the water!
Shinalisz
Shinalisz Posted 8 years ago
The bartender finally gave me what I wanted. Which turned out to be the sweet drunken oblivion.
Some time later, - after the sixth or seventh whiskey, "¦ or tequila? What color was it? I had no idea, but I could feel it's effects at least. - I half laid on the counter, the usually cold brass now warmish beneath my arm and cheek. I turned my head to one side, finding my glass of something with dull cheer. I pulled the transparent, fragile thing closer to my face, until I could see my hazy brown eyes in them, along with my tousled blond hair framing my face.

'I look like shit.' I stated as if I've just made the biggest discovery of the world. 'But you are with me at least.' I muttered to my glass, stroking the cool edge of it lovingly. Then I shot up suddenly, raising from the counter, and pointed a finger at my drink, winking. 'You know what? From now on, you are my best friend.' I said, drawing out the last few words. My drunken voice sounded funny even to me, and I chuckled as I took a sip from the blessed liquid again.

When it was gone, I dig into my pockets for more money, to order some more, but I found nothing. 'No money, great...' I mumbled, then I remembered.

I stood up, barely able to stay upright as the whole world started to turn into jelly beneath my feet.

'Now, where is that ex of yours?'I asked Tiny, as I freed my gun from the shoulder holster beneath my black denim jacket, and searched for mentioned woman, looking around.
"I'm the most afraid of people seeing me as I see them."
Pritrostell
Pritrostell Posted 8 years ago
*Clang*

The bell rang loudly behind me as I left the bar an headed home. Not much of an eventful night, just some crazy lady talking to her drink really.

Something was happening at that bar that I really wasn't interested in getting involved with.

On my way home i ran into a homeless man, and managed to dig up a couple of quarters to toss his way. He hurriedly thanked me and ran off, probably to find his dealer.

Rankton was a fairly large town, and for some reason I had to choose the farthest bar from my house to be my "home away from home".

A sudden chill went up my spine and i froze in place. I had a funny feeling I was being followed; i had to be certain but I couldn't be obvious about it.

I pretended to rifle through my pockets and shrugged after finding nothing of use. I walked a short distance longer and decided to window shop, hoping a reflection would reveal my suspicions.
__________________________________________

I grab the freshly washed grizzly skin, which still holds the warmth of it's previous owner despite it's chilly bath in the nearby river...
Kerri-Emmitt
Kerri-Emmitt Posted 8 years ago
'I must be quiet; easy, light steps. Must not let him see me. I have worked too damn hard to blow this now. breathe, one, two, three... breathe, one, two, three.'

I may not be the most experienced person that could have been set this task but that doesn't mean I have to fail.

The man, a hundred yards in front stops suddenly. I quickly shuffle back and cover myself with the shadows of the shop door way next to me.

'I have to keep my heart slow. Have to keep my breathing even slower or He will know I'm here. Concentrate, damn it! Concentrate'

The man only hesitates for a moment and then carries on his way. I watch his feet, watch their reasonable pace and listen to the rhythmic sound; ready for any alteration in his stride and if that happens... I will be ready.
Administrator

I'm drowning here, and you're describing the water!
Malicepoint
Malicepoint Posted 8 years ago
It was quite, so very quite. Rankton was in a hibernating like sleep, a bank could be robed an none would notice. But today, I had a different job. I was the unknown backup to an accomplice further down the street. He had no I idea was even here. For various reasons I was to not even to let him know I was here.

From my vantage point, I could see what he and his target were doing.

In emergency case in which case he failed, I would direct him to a safe area through a secret phone located in his coat. If he were to become captured it'd be my job to silence him.

A Barret 50 cal silenced is what I had if he were to get caught and a pistol if I were to.

I'm a professional.

The day just might not stay so very quite for long.
Whatever happens now shall affect the future in odd ways.
last edited by Malicepoint on 26-09-2010 17:11
Vermithrax
Vermithrax Posted 8 years ago
I was about to move; to follow my target, when the dark silhouette ghosted out of the darkness of an adjacent street. The long, low car, it's lights off, coasted past me on silent tyres, and I realized the driver must have cut his engine.

It rolled past the doorway I had concealed myself in, and was close enough to allow me to discern two people; driver and passenger in the shotgun. Both were little more than shapes, camouflaged by the night.

They didn't look left or right. Their total attention was for the figure ahead of me. The gentle declivity of the road aided their progress, enabling the white-walls to roll easily and silently towards my mark.

It said much for my state of mind, that several seconds passed, before it occurred to me that something was seriously amiss here. The sedan was fifteen, twenty yards away, before I threw myself from the doorway, and pounded along the sidewalk.

I was far, far, too late.

The bronchial cough of a silenced weapon made hardly a ripple in the deep silence. Once, twice, three times, it barked; a low hacking sound.

The shadow that was my man staggered, raised a hand to support himself against a nearby shop window. The glass adjacent to him shattered, and suddenly, the silence was ripped apart by the strident howl of a wailing alarm.

Simultaneously, the cars engine roared into life with a deep growl, and the tyres squealed, as they bit into the asphalt of the road.

By the time my man hit the ground, the car was forty, fifty yards away, and picking up speed. Ahead of him, further up the street his target was just visible; his face a pale blur. Glass showered around the prone figure, glinting dully in the poor light.

indecision gripped me. What now? Do I go to him? Check he's okay? Dead?

He had to be dead. These guys were no amateurs. there was nothing I could do here.

Damn; but the police were fast in this part of town. I could already hear the first faint wailing of a siren, as I turned, and faded into the night.
Vermithrax

Don't try To Fix Me; I'm Not Broken.
Please Do Not Cling To Me; I Swear I Can't Fix You.
last edited by Vermithrax on 27-09-2010 23:21
Don Roble
Don Roble Posted 8 years ago
"Oh, damn!", I thought or, perhaps, said out loud. Someone is on to us! They took out the kidnapper like they were killing pigs.

Who were they? How did they know? Why did they stop it? Who is the man I'm following? I pretend to get drunk to throw him off my scent and the whole plan blows up right in front of me.

Where did he go? He was right there and now he's gone. I took a chance and went into the alley where it was darkest and the last place the police would be looking. I went into the alley and saw nothing. Then I heard a cough.
last edited by Don Roble on 27-09-2010 23:10
blue_veined_hatred
blue_veined_hatred Posted 8 years ago
I was busy doing the usual, laying back inside my cruiser and helping myself to more doughnuts every now and then, with an eye on the street. For most of the cops back at the station passing the night in a cruiser is something they would skip as often as they can manage. I was not most of the cops. Most of the cops do not have a marriage on the verge of dissolving into the most sour taste.
Rankton was as quite at that hour of the night. Quite enough for the rapidly approaching engine noise of a car revving up the road. I tossed back the half eaten doughnut into it's box and fumbled up to a feasible position.
I hardly recognized the brand of the car which fleetingly shot past the street but I clearly recognized the situation: a speeding case deep at night. This mght range from some adventure hungry delinquent to some high profile hit and run. Just at that moment, my radio cackled out:
"All units in the vicinity. A possible hit and run suspect has been seen going East found down Rosewood Boulevard. Suspect is driving a black Classic Ford Mustang. Requesting reports on visual."
"This is Z3005.I have a visual of a possible suspect. On pursuit."
I turned on the ignition and the on the lights, wailed the siren and zoomed out of the alley. Tonight is going to be a bumpy.
a restless death awaits
last edited by blue_veined_hatred on 15-07-2011 21:44
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