Comments on "Where are you going, Where have you been?"

Though it might be considered obvious and not worthy of mention, I interpreted this story as a warning. The warning was at a practical level to be safe and watch out for men such as this Arnold Friend. There are numerous occasions in the story that one can point too and state that with appropriate common sense and safety measures, the threat from someone like Arnold Friend could be avoided. For example, not opening the door for someone you do not know when no one else is home and not engaging in conversation with someone you do not know when no one else is home. These practical things aside, lets look a little deeper into the story. Connie has begun to rely on her good looks to obtain this near indescribable feeling of euphoria that she gets when others give her attention (primarily from boys), which I assume is felt by all girls to some degree at some point in their life (I say this as i know guys desire for girls to give them attention to some degree at some point in their life). It has lead to her dismissal and ignorance towards anything else that does not have to do with this obtaining of feeling of being longed for or found attractive by guys. The danger is that some guys may perceive this behavior that Connie engages in to get attention to be mean more than what is actually meant by it. What is worse in the story is that this Arnold Friend is a good psychological manipulator. He uses subtle means of manipulation such as, continuously telling Connie that she will go away with him or love him or simply get in the care. Friend also, manipulates Connie into believing that there is no other alternative than to do what he says, by alluding to her desire to be liked and thus unable to do anything that might compromise that, stating that she has always felt this way and thus was always going to belong to Arnold Friend. Finally, this Arnold gets Connie to consent or give in to a few seemingly harmless requests, but he is aware that one is more likely to consent to requests from someone who you have already said yes too, than you are to someone who you have not said yes too, no matter how trivial the earlier requests that one said yes to were.
I do however, find it hard to believe that a girl would be so blind to the obvious danger she was in by even opening the door and talking with this person for so long before actually becoming scared. She has not learned caution or discretion and it cost her in not being able to recognize this Arnold Friend for the deceitful predator that he was. 

This story takes place in the Games Workshop owned Warhammer 40k universe. The characters and story are of my creation but the universe they inhabit are of the Warhammer 40k universe.

As an Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus, I am bound to seek out and destroy all those who have chosen to turn from the divine light of his majesty the God-Emperor of mankind. Despite his eternal vigilance in watching over and protecting mankind from his golden throne on holy Terra, mankind must forever wage war upon the Xenos, the daemon, and the heretic. Though I have every respect for the Ordo Malleus (protection against the daemonic) and the Ordo Xenos (protection against the vile alien), the greatest threat to mankind comes from the threat within…the traitor…the heretic. My name is Inquisitor Caeso Flavius Merula (retired). I have been persuaded to write a full memoir of my career as an agent to the Ordo for ‘historical and educational purposes’. I will try to tell the account as accurately as I can but my 177 year old mind is not as sharp as it used to be. I preferred to have juvinat treatments done to keep my body much looking and functioning as good as it did when I was in my mid-twenties, rather than replace my ageing body with augmetics as the years went by. Okay, I do have a few body parts that are more metal than flesh, but they were due to wounds that proved irreparable. There was this one time I…oh yeah, career as an Inquisitor. I won’t bore you with my time at the Schola Progenium or the short period of time I was an Acolyte serving under Inquisitor Augustine. All you need to know is my hatred for Augustine was surpassed only by my respect and loyalty for him. If you want to know more about him, just read his thirteen volume memoir (yes, he thought he was that important). I will instead begin with my first assignment as a full-fledged Inquisitor.

 I had been sent to Sectarus Prime, a major industrial world in the Gothic Sector of Segmentum Obscurus. It was the early in the year 949 of the 39^th millennium. I was to eventually see the 10^th millennium anniversary of the Imperium of Man’s dominance over the galaxy in M41, but at that time I still ridding the high from my recent and unusually quick ascension to the rank of Inquisitor (having only been 24 standard Terran years old, and only an Acolyte of Inquisitor Augustine’s for just over three years standard). Anyway, my first assignment proved to be far more important and influential than just the fact that it was my first assignment. Even after all this time, I still wake up some nights in a cold sweat, with fading mental images of a woman with raven purple-black hair and piercing green eyes.

I strain my senses for any sign of pursuit. Did I manage to lose them? Should I stay hidden or keep moving and try to find a way out of here? Something close to fear gripped my heart, causing me to hesitate with indecision. That moment of indecision would cost me. The sounds of pursuit managed to make themselves heard over the sound of my own heart beat in my ears.

“Feck” I cursed my moment of weakness. Come on, you are an inquisitor…it is time you started acting like one, I thought to myself even as the pursuers became visible in the weak moon lit chamber of the Planetary Governor’s palace. The giant hall was filled on either side with statues of previous governors, war heroes, or early depictions of the Emperor. These statues were positioned to be in between the giant pillars that rose up to the glass domed roof. The planets second moon was out tonight, casting the hall in a kind of twilight, throwing long shadows from each pillar and statue. I hid in the shadow of one of these statues, frantically trying to figure out what I was going to do to get myself out alive. 

Peering out of the shadows I could see the lamp packs bobbing left and right as they began to spread out in search of me. There were nine from what I could see past the glare of the lamps, but there may have been more. I doubt I could make it to the front entrance as it was over thirty meters away from where I stood and the squad of cultists separated me from the entrance. Even in the weak light and the glare of the lamp packs, one could tell that these were Slaaneshi cultists. The weapons they held were as varied as the state of dress they were in. Some were dressed in little more than boots and tattoos, while others wore costume masks and the overly embroidered attire of any planetary nobility, or anything in between these two extremes.

“You are sure he came down this way?” I heard one cultist whisper to another as they wondered over to my general direction.

“Yeah, he couldn’t have gone far and we would have heard him use the main entrance to this hall. No, he is in here somewhere.” The other whispered back. The words came out slurred and distorted, as if the speaker were under the influence of a narcotic. 

I was grateful for my dark gray coat, black shirt and trousers, and brown boots. I carried my badge of office on a chain around my neck. Standing at just under two meters tall, I had a strong well toned body, white almost pale skin, and dark brown hair cropped short. I had piercing hazel-green eyes, a strong gaunt jaw line, and clean shaven face. At my belt I had my bolt pistol and custom made short power sword. I was confident that I could beat any single cultist in a strait up fight, but against a whole squad I would surely be overwhelmed. 

One came to within a few meters of where I hid, and it was then I noted the sounds of murmuring, giggling, and moaning coming from the cultist. The sounds were similar to the ones heard from private rooms of bars or taverns. The smell caught up to me and I nearly lost consciousness with the intensity it assaulted my senses with. Everything began to become hazy, losing its edge and clarity. Fear of discovery began to fade into the back of my mind. I couldn’t think clearly as the thoughts became like sand, slipping away as I tried to grab them. I knew I should be concerned about this, but even that was a fading distant echo of my consciousness, as my senses became overstimulated.

I began to lose myself in the swirling wonderland of sensual desire. It was then that I understood why people were drawn to embrace the foul God of unspeakable pleasure. Why live a life of tedious boredom? All that matters is the experiencing of pleasure no matter how forbidden they are. Slaanesh promises a life of constant pleasure and happiness where the limitations of society are thrown away in light of the true human existence. These thoughts went through my head as if being spoken by someone else, but with such seductive power I didn’t care about the intrusion on my consciousness.

“Here he is” one cultist shouted, though the sound barely registered in my reeling brain.

I knew I should be worried, but I could not summon the effort to care. There was something nagging in my mind somewhere. What is that? As if not wanting me to find out, the intrusive thoughts I had felt before came back with renewed effort. However, the harder they tried to keep me from focusing on the nagging feeling, harder I sought after it. Upon grasping it, I seemed to wake up from a bad dream, sweat coating my body, and feeling the disorientation of not remembering where I was. 

This is what I have thus far. 

Comments on Chapter 6: Dialogue and Scene

I will admit that of all the areas of writing covered thus far, it is in the area of dialogue that I felt I needed the most help. The books view of dialogue being easy due to our having done it all of our life was reassuring. The book does a good job of going through all of the little administrative problems that writers (such as myself) will likely run into. What I am referring to in administrative problems are the uncertainty of how to deal with dialect, slang, cursing, accents, and tone of voice. I believe that the book could have put a little more emphasis on the importance of visual data in everyday interactions. There is a reason why they have an application when someone sends a text, to add in some kind of facial expression along with the actual message itself, and this reason is that we rely on visual data to help interpret the meaning we think the other person holds when uttering a certain statement or phrase. The scene portion of the chapter did favor my way of thinking about how I write. The scene providing the overview or big picture than one knows contains all the elements that are necessary for the advancement of the story. There has to be a framework in which a character exists and interacts. A scene is where a plot is realized. The book goes into different kinds of scenes, but the overall purpose of a scene is still where and how the story is experienced.