The purple Bengal Tigers eat yellow marshmlllows and should they be Rasberry flavour

[gavintonks]

so 2 is the emotion of loneliness
pain
hope
and then being crushed by things you did not expect or could not control

 

[gavintonks]

dreaming oif freedom and running on green grass she smelt the flowers, and then a pain in her face made her wake up, One of the guards took out his dagger and slit her dress so that it fell to her feet, 2 woman came in and bather her aching body, and washed her her. the joy of being clean was short lived as the guard threw a bucket of cold water over her, she woke instantly and realized her predicament.

They threw a robe over her to stop the shivering and left
the manacles had drawn blood and a trickle mixed with the water and the soap stung her wounds bringing her mind back into focus
a clatter and noise was harsh against her ears after the silence, and she slid back down the wall when the door opened and Martin was dragged inside manacled and beaten. Four men manhandled him and chained him to the wall and tied a leather strap against his neck and head so he could only see her. he roared and flexed but could do nothing he was helpless

Damien had planks brought in and placed across the filth so he could walk up to her, the guards stayed 3 on either side of the room witnesses to her, 'what is he up to now.' she thought
he held a small basket of treats, her stomach rumbled and she realized how hungry they made her, he placed small delicate translucent powder covered delicacy on her cracked and parched lips,
"her mind wanted more she tried to turn away but he motioned for a guard to hold her, the sweet melted into her lips and mouth, her cuts and cracks healed, she could speak again, she wanted more, she felt betrayed by her body
the glazed look in her eyes passed and she saw things so clearly now.
he gave the basket o the guard to hold, he still held the back of her neck the cold steel of his gauntlet hand made her realize the danger she was in

he ran his hand along her shoulder and slipped under the cloth of her robe,and slowly rounded the arch of her shoulder so the cloth fell in a puff of elegant cloth so out of place her,
she could not move her hands manacled and her neck held, too weak to do anything but her mind was alive

she was used to being naked but here in front of all these men part of her just did not care and another was affronted as it was not her choice
she felt hot, her belly warmed and heat rose within her,
he looked at her accusingly, see what you make me do, you see I have no choice
he violently slapped his cupped hand between her legs, the violence was senseless unnecessary and violating, she tried to squirm but the hand held her hard, 'no" she whispered, no please not this I dont know anything i swear,
she felt like collapsing, but she was held transfixed. martin moaned and started shouting, but his muffle was all she could hear as thy stuffed a gag in his mouth

he explored her with his filthy mage hand she felt violated, she wanted to bite run away but all her wants were impossible.
she tried to struggle but it just made him wors, he lapped her and the stinging sound reverberated through her drugged mind, it was futile, he smiled and whispered to her, tell me your story and I will let you go

she detached her mind it was all she could do, she thought of other things as he forced himself into her, the pain was nothing compared to the ache in her hands and arns as the guard held her hands above her head
she cried, and her mind wanted to hide wrap itself in a blanket and just die

his thrusts grew more urgent until he panted in her ear and against her hair, what would make a person do this want to do this, she saw the smirk on the guards face

 

[gavintonks]

the violation
where your mind goes to deal with these things
the humiliation
pain
despondency
anger
outrage
becoming a victim accepting /not accepting and then resolve

 

[gavintonks]

as one can see the three scenes although the characters engage for say 5 minutes, 10 minutes and then 20 minutes it is actually a very long time but choosing the right words and sequence can crate a gripping episode - the emotional iq is what we think of last instead of planning it with the structure and outline of the writing

 

[gavintonks]

Martin wept in silence, his eyes reflected the damage they had done, he would never be the same, they had damaged him and they would pay

 

[Caged Maiden]

So here's the conclusion of the scene then:



It was several moments later that she dared to move. The sounds of the footsteps had completely faded, and she knew that she was again alone.

She pulled her dress closed as well as she could and pressed the cloth to her ribs. The bleeding slowed, and she crawled to Martin’s side to see to him. She put her hand gently to his head. He barely breathed, still unconscious. Using what little strength she had, she rolled Martin onto his side to assess the damage.

His face was a mess, his nose broken, both eyes bruised and cut and swelling, and a sizable cut on the bridge of his nose which had bled profusely.

Despite his face being covered with blood, two fresh white lines cut down his cheeks where recently shed tears had washed away the blood. She gasped. He had wept for her.

Raven collected the linen scraps of her knickers off of the floor and sucked on the corners. Cradling Martin’s head gently in her lap, she carefully wiped the blood from his face.

When Martin finally awoke, the sky was just beginning to lighten. “What time is it?†he asked, groggily, his head still resting upon her crossed legs.

“Perhaps an hour ‘ere dawn,†she said, soothingly. She brushed the hair away from his eyes softly with her fingertips, “the bells chimed four quite a while ago.â€

“Come,†he said, rising. “We need to get out of here.â€

Raven set down the blood-tinged scraps of linen and said, “There is no way out, Martin, I have tried.†She held her dress closed with one hand, while she stuffed the bloody linen scraps against her own wound.

Her voice was weak and raspy from thirst. “I’ve been here for days with no food or water. I have no energy left from trying to get out.â€


Martin winced in pain as he knelt on his hands and knees before her. His ribs were probably broken, she thought. Dimata had not held back with his heavy boots.

“Oh gods!†Raven gasped, bringing her hands to cover her face, “what have they done to you?â€

The hopelessness of their situation became very real to her all of a sudden. Tears attempted to fall from her painfully dry eyes. She and Martin were beaten and battered. How could they hope to escape?

“I’m so sorry,†she wept, wiping her tearless, stinging eyes with the sleeves of her filthy dress. “I‘m so sorry that you are here, Martin. You should not be. Gods! If you’d not tried to defend me.... you’d not be here bleeding and.....â€

“Do not waste your tears on me,†he said quietly, not bothering to take his eyes off the floor in front of him, “I am not worth it.â€

She crouched next to him and put her hand gently upon his back, “You’re very seriously injured,†she said. “We cannot hope to escape. We are hardly strong enough to crawl, let alone break our chains and scale the wall. If we cannot find a way to talk our way out of here, I’m afraid our fates are sealed.â€

“No,†insisted Martin, “I can get us out of here.â€

Raven shook her head. She had tried to climb the walls, and it was impossible with her hands bound. How could Martin hope to escape with his two wrists shackled to the floor? The chains could not be broken.

“How?†she asked, “you are in no condition to move. Your ribs are probably broken. You may be bleeding internally.â€

Martin began unbuckling his belt and pulled it from his trousers. He handed it to her, “Here,†he said, “belt your dress closed, we are going to have to climb out.â€

She took it and looked confused. Was he oblivious to the fact that he was chained to the floor?

She belted her dress closed as he’d asked, glad at least for the warmth. The morning air was freezing. She sat back down and looked up at the grate above. It was so high up. Truly, it was impossible to reach, even if her hands had not been bound.
“Martin,†she said, “I cannot make it. I cannot climb the wall. I have no strength left.â€

“Shhh,†he shushed her.

In the dark they listened. There were voices coming from down the hall.

“I can bring the girl up to my office if you wish to have a bit of fun before you go,†said Dimata.

“No,†said the blonde mercenary, that had interrogated her earlier; she recognized his voice. “I am not interested in ****ing your prisoner. I have already questioned her. She has no knowledge of the crypt.â€

“So she says,†snapped Dimata.

“She does not know,†insisted the mercenary.

Raven’s heart fluttered with momentary hope. Perhaps if they knew that she spoke the truth they would let her go. There was still a chance to hope for.

“Then she is useless,†said Dimata.

“No, “said the mercenary, “if she is the heir she alone can open the crypt now that the key is destroyed.â€

“But I thought she had the key.â€

“She may be the key. But, if that is the case, she will only be useful if we can locate the crypt, and right now, we do not even know which town to begin looking in.â€

“Question the other prisoner,†suggested Dimata.

“The bard that you stole from the Don? Why?†asked the mercenary. “I thought he was mistakenly captured with the girl.â€
“He was,†admitted Dimata quietly, “but now I am sure he knows something.â€

“That’s ridiculous. How could he?â€

“I don’t know, but he does.â€

“That’s impossible.â€

“Torvu said that he has not uttered a word since arriving,†said Dimata. “How many men say nothing after a visit with Torvu?â€
Silence.

“An innocent man would have been begging Torvu’s mercy before he had to bring out his toys.â€

“How far did he go?†the mercenary asked in a low tone.

“Far enough.â€

“Then the man is probably in shock. Torvu is too heavy-handed for interrogation. You cannot read too far into this. Torvu has killed men too quickly before.â€

“I told him if that happens again he is out of a job!†snapped Dimata. “Question the bard and find out for yourself. I’m sure he knows about the crypt.â€

“If you wish, I’ll interrogate him; later,†agreed the mercenary, “though I believe it will be fruitless.â€

“It doesn’t matter,†said Dimata, “Use what force is necessary. If we can’t get him to talk to save his life, then he dies.â€

The door closed again and the footsteps moved further away.

Raven looked at Martin. “They mean to return to finish the job with you,†she whispered, frantically. “Martin, he’s going to kill you,†she hissed, “if you can get out, then do it. You may be able to use the pin from your belt to pick your locks.â€

“We must go together,†he said with conviction.

“I can’t,†she shook her head, “even if my hands were freed, I couldn’t climb the wall. My hands have turned feeble. They shake constantly now, and not from cold.â€

“Then I will carry you,†he said sternly.

“You can’t,†she sighed. “Leave me here. I am too heavy to carry and it would be stupid for you to try if you are certain that you can climb the wall. I will only slow you down and ruin both of our chances. Here, pick your locks.â€

Martin grabbed her hand as she went to unbuckle the belt. His grip was firm but not unkind. Raven looked down at his bloody hands and then back to his battered face. He must be in unimaginable pain. How could he still fight?

“I can get us both out of here,†he said quietly, “but I demand your word that you will never speak of this to anyone.â€

She tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was like steel. She was unable to free her wrist from his grasp, the chains jingling as she tried. “You’re frightening me, Martin,†she said, pulling on her hand, “let go of me.â€

He hung his head and released her. “Logan,†he said with a sigh.

“What?†she asked.

“My name is not Martin,†he said, shaking his head as if he did not yet understand why he was saying those words to her. “I am not a bard. My name is Logan, and I am Sayan, a shape shifter.â€

“Shape shifter?†she asked.

“I am telling you this so you are not frightened,†he continued, as he unbuttoned and took off his bloody shirt, letting it slide onto the chains, cuffs first. His ribs already showed extensive deep purple bruising from Dimata’s ruthlessness.

He unbuttoned his trousers and slipped out of them, then handed them to her.

“What are you doing?†she asked nervously.

“Saving my clothes from being destroyed,†he said. “Keep them for me, we may have to run when we reach the top.â€

She stared silently, not sure what she was supposed to say.

He knelt, completely nude before her in the stone cell. “Swear it,†he said, his head down, and his eyes closed. “Our secrets keep us alive. Swear you’ll keep my secret.â€

“I swear it,†she said, nervously kneeling in front of him.

He nodded and aid, “Don’t be frightened, this is our only way out.†His back arched even before he’d finished his sentence. His naked body trembled as though wracked with horrific pain. Raven backed away and watched, terrified, as Logan’s muscles flexed and bulged. His eyes were tightly shut; whether from pain or embarrassment, she could not tell. His hands and feet became massive deadly claws and his skin transformed into thick fur. His face changed into a great, frightening canine muzzle, his ears pointed and long. His coat was deepest black, like a moonless night.

 

[gavintonks]

So here's the conclusion of the scene then:



It was several moments later that she dared to move. The sounds of the footsteps had completely faded, and she knew that she was again alone.

Look through her eyes.
she tried to run away and die, the violation laughed at her with every retreating step, the gulls taunted her she wanted it they lied, it was her fault the steps said
You have characters use them make them part of the story or ignore them and concentrate on the areas that are important
I have never felt so filthy, despite living in this mess for 3 days

She pulled her dress closed as well as she could and pressed the cloth to her ribs. The bleeding slowed, and she crawled to Martin’s side to see to him. She put her hand gently to his head. He barely breathed, still unconscious. Using what little strength she had, she rolled Martin onto his side to assess the damage.

She lay where the guard had thrown her, her arms ached, but her mind ached even more, the vileness, having this alien garbage inside of her, getting joy and pleasure from her pain. had we come to this, slowly she remembered she was not alone. It gave her reason half of her wanted to lie there forever, but she need to know is xx was still alive
emotion
revulsion
victims always blame themselves
do not want to move or get up or take action


His face was a mess, his nose broken, both eyes bruised and cut and swelling, and a sizable cut on the bridge of his nose which had bled profusely.

She turned her arms aching with every movement, she saw dirty stains on her legs, she tried to rub them with the manacles but all she did was scratch herself but seeing her blood was cleansing, something was washing away the filth
her mattress still wet from the water thrown over her, allowed her to tear a strip and wash his face

Despite his face being covered with blood, two fresh white lines cut down his cheeks where recently shed tears had washed away the blood. She gasped. He had wept for her.

despite is a challenge and question it begs an answer from the reader
Her heart fell when she saw him lying in the filth unable to move, spittle and blood leaked from his once beautiful face streaked with filth

Raven collected the linen scraps of her knickers off of the floor and sucked on the corners. Cradling Martin’s head gently in her lap, she carefully wiped the blood from his face.

When Martin finally awoke, the sky was just beginning to lighten. “What time is it?” he asked, groggily, his head still resting upon her crossed legs.
he/ she you need to decide the perspective hears a ragged breath, maybe a broken rib
she would not have the strength to lift dad weight she could turn him on his back

“Perhaps an hour ‘ere dawn,” she said, soothingly. She brushed the hair away from his eyes softly with her fingertips, “the bells chimed four quite a while ago.”

it was hard to look at a man after what had happened to her
she needs to force herself to touch him realize not every man is the same
look through her eyes into her soul and see whats there

“Come,” he said, rising. “We need to get out of here.”

Raven set down the blood-tinged scraps of linen and said, “There is no way out, Martin, I have tried.” She held her dress closed with one hand, while she stuffed the bloody linen scraps against her own wound.

Her voice was weak and raspy from thirst. “I’ve been here for days with no food or water. I have no energy left from trying to get out.”
# the body is ok but exhaustion would be a problem and exertion demands energy which you will need to get from somewhere


Martin winced in pain as he knelt on his hands and knees before her. His ribs were probably broken, she thought. Dimata had not held back with his heavy boots.
# broken rib is never a probability it is a certainty pain is excruciating and every time you move

“Oh gods!” Raven gasped, bringing her hands to cover her face, “what have they done to you?”

The hopelessness of their situation became very real to her all of a sudden. Tears attempted to fall from her painfully dry eyes. She and Martin were beaten and battered. How could they hope to escape?

# the hopelessness is there since the first time despair would be better

“I’m so sorry,” she wept, wiping her tearless, stinging eyes with the sleeves of her filthy dress. “I‘m so sorry that you are here, Martin. You should not be. Gods! If you’d not tried to defend me.... you’d not be here bleeding and.....”

# would you in the same situation say these things? it is like giving the reader back story
he has offered a way of escape you need to know how!

“Do not waste your tears on me,” he said quietly, not bothering to take his eyes off the floor in front of him, “I am not worth it.”

# a warrior would hardly be counting his self worth, he needs to survive driven by the need
worth is superficial to a warrior

She crouched next to him and put her hand gently upon his back, “You’re very seriously injured,” she said. “We cannot hope to escape. We are hardly strong enough to crawl, let alone break our chains and scale the wall. If we cannot find a way to talk our way out of here, I’m afraid our fates are sealed.”

“No,” insisted Martin, “I can get us out of here.”

Raven shook her head. She had tried to climb the walls, and it was impossible with her hands bound. How could Martin hope to escape with his two wrists shackled to the floor? The chains could not be broken.

 

[gavintonks]

“How?” she asked, “you are in no condition to move. Your ribs are probably broken. You may be bleeding internally.”

Martin began unbuckling his belt and pulled it from his trousers. He handed it to her, “Here,” he said, “belt your dress closed, we are going to have to climb out.”

She took it and looked confused. Was he oblivious to the fact that he was chained to the floor?

She belted her dress closed as he’d asked, glad at least for the warmth. The morning air was freezing. She sat back down and looked up at the grate above. It was so high up. Truly, it was impossible to reach, even if her hands had not been bound.
“Martin,” she said, “I cannot make it. I cannot climb the wall. I have no strength left.”

“Shhh,” he shushed her.

In the dark they listened. There were voices coming from down the hall.

jump in action
timing how long and when are they that they hear this conversation

“I can bring the girl up to my office if you wish to have a bit of fun before you go,” said Dimata.

“No,” said the blonde mercenary, that had interrogated her earlier; she recognized his voice. “I am not interested in ****ing your prisoner. I have already questioned her. She has no knowledge of the crypt.”

another no name brand blond mercenary we do not form emotional bonds with no names

“So she says,” snapped Dimata.

“She does not know,” insisted the mercenary.

Raven’s heart fluttered with momentary hope. Perhaps if they knew that she spoke the truth they would let her go. There was still a chance to hope for.

“Then she is useless,” said Dimata.

“No, “said the mercenary, “if she is the heir she alone can open the crypt now that the key is destroyed.”

“But I thought she had the key.”

“She may be the key. But, if that is the case, she will only be useful if we can locate the crypt, and right now, we do not even know which town to begin looking in.”

3 rhey cannot be walking for such a long dialogue
should be outside the door
what tension do you wish to set up in the emotional dialogue
you have started with hope for release
but then she must release there is no release they want the key

“Question the other prisoner,” suggested Dimata.

“The bard that you stole from the Don? Why?” asked the mercenary. “I thought he was mistakenly captured with the girl.”
“He was,” admitted Dimata quietly, “but now I am sure he knows something.”

“That’s ridiculous. How could he?”

“I don’t know, but he does.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Torvu said that he has not uttered a word since arriving,” said Dimata. “How many men say nothing after a visit with Torvu?”
Silence.

“An innocent man would have been begging Torvu’s mercy before he had to bring out his toys.”

“How far did he go?” the mercenary asked in a low tone.

“Far enough.”

“Then the man is probably in shock. Torvu is too heavy-handed for interrogation. You cannot read too far into this. Torvu has killed men too quickly before.”

“I told him if that happens again he is out of a job!” snapped Dimata. “Question the bard and find out for yourself. I’m sure he knows about the crypt.”

“If you wish, I’ll interrogate him; later,” agreed the mercenary, “though I believe it will be fruitless.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Dimata, “Use what force is necessary. If we can’t get him to talk to save his life, then he dies.”

The door closed again and the footsteps moved further away.

Raven looked at Martin. “They mean to return to finish the job with you,” she whispered, frantically. “Martin, he’s going to kill you,” she hissed, “if you can get out, then do it. You may be able to use the pin from your belt to pick your locks.”

“We must go together,” he said with conviction.

“I can’t,” she shook her head, “even if my hands were freed, I couldn’t climb the wall. My hands have turned feeble. They shake constantly now, and not from cold.”

“Then I will carry you,” he said sternly.

“You can’t,” she sighed. “Leave me here. I am too heavy to carry and it would be stupid for you to try if you are certain that you can climb the wall. I will only slow you down and ruin both of our chances. Here, pick your locks.”

Martin grabbed her hand as she went to unbuckle the belt. His grip was firm but not unkind. Raven looked down at his bloody hands and then back to his battered face. He must be in unimaginable pain. How could he still fight?

“I can get us both out of here,” he said quietly, “but I demand your word that you will never speak of this to anyone.”

She tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was like steel. She was unable to free her wrist from his grasp, the chains jingling as she tried. “You’re frightening me, Martin,” she said, pulling on her hand, “let go of me.”

He hung his head and released her. “Logan,” he said with a sigh.

“What?” she asked.

“My name is not Martin,” he said, shaking his head as if he did not yet understand why he was saying those words to her. “I am not a bard. My name is Logan, and I am Sayan, a shape shifter.”

“Shape shifter?” she asked.

“I am telling you this so you are not frightened,” he continued, as he unbuttoned and took off his bloody shirt, letting it slide onto the chains, cuffs first. His ribs already showed extensive deep purple bruising from Dimata’s ruthlessness.

He unbuttoned his trousers and slipped out of them, then handed them to her.

“What are you doing?” she asked nervously.

“Saving my clothes from being destroyed,” he said. “Keep them for me, we may have to run when we reach the top.”

She stared silently, not sure what she was supposed to say.

He knelt, completely nude before her in the stone cell. “Swear it,” he said, his head down, and his eyes closed. “Our secrets keep us alive. Swear you’ll keep my secret.”

“I swear it,” she said, nervously kneeling in front of him.

He nodded and said, “Don’t be frightened, this is our only way out.” His back arched even before he’d finished his sentence. His naked body trembled as though wracked with horrific pain. Raven backed away and watched, terrified, as Logan’s muscles flexed and bulged. His eyes were tightly shut; whether from pain or embarrassment, she could not tell. His hands and feet became massive deadly claws and his skin transformed into thick fur. His face changed into a great, frightening canine muzzle, his ears pointed and long. His coat was deepest black, like a moonless night.[/QUOTE]

the other point is you can labour the story with too much information
we know they want the key and are not getting it
characters know lives and freedom at stake
what is key to the story
the butcher is not he has done his job so threatening his job has no bearing to the story, it becomes something you wish to say
be direct the guy wants something he has raped for it, he is in charge and has victims which makes him happy

 

[gavintonks]

we also need to unpack the statements
she knew the chains could not be broken why?
there is magic
they need a key
challenging the reader with a statement requires qualification and then the solution enhances the story

 

[Reaver]

I think it's a question of experience that's been brought up here. When young people write, we begin with concepts, and make out a world that is very detailed. And then it's almost a compulsion to find places to enter all the clever details it took so long to invent. I am guilty of it too, and when I look back on my first few novels, they aren't nearly as clever as I had imagined, but long and boring. I mean, who cares whether my dwarves have a very clever state-of-the art plumbing system with flush toilets underground? It's boring to write a scene in which they are used...

While I agree that a certain amount of world-building is necessary, an author needs to keep in mind whether every detail needs to make it to second draft.

Very well said, anihow! After reading some of your stories, it's abundantly clear that you have a passion for writing that is mostly lacking in today's fiction.

 

[gavintonks]

Yes Anihow has wrapped it up in a paragraph

 

[gavintonks]

so do we continue with emotional iq or does the thread come to an end?
is anyone else willing to look at the story from an emotional content perspective as ther are many possibilities if we change the emotions?
or another story any volunteers?

 

[gavintonks]

and of course to leave some of the imagination to the reader so they can form their own pictures as that is what people are buying into, being able to make the world their own in the context of the story.How many people tried to make Lord of the Rings over the years as there was never enough detail until Peter came along and captured the essence of bits of vision that retained the ability of the reader to hold onto their imagination within the context of the story