Total Contact (Western)

[Harakiri]

Chapter 1

 

 

 

Jack sat on the wagon, holding onto the rail along the roofs perimeter as the wheels hit holes in the ground.

 

 

 

The man clutching the reins screamed Giddyup! He wore a pinstriped suit, and his hair was combed back. His name was Ted or something like that. He spoke with a thick British accent. Call him a limey, though, and he would break all of your fingers until you screamed God save the queen.

 

 

 

Jack wore a pair of jeans, with a thick leather pad secured around his thighs. He also wore a denim button down, and a leather jacket. His boots were also leather, exactly the reason his wife left him.

 

 

 

You kill too many animals. She would scream at him as he got back from his shopping in town.

 

 

 

Too bad I haven't killed you. He would reply under his breath. He soon learned women had very keen hearing. He was sent packing, and next thing he knew he was living off bounty hunting.

 

 

 

It was too bad, because he loved that ranch where he would keep the animals healthy and help his wife with the garden. They had a large barnful of horses, and when he was kicked out, he was told to take only one. He wanted to take them all, but decided to take his favorite, Lightning.

 

 

 

The fastest horse he knew, it had been his best friend for a year of hunting, before getting run over by a train while its owner tried to prevent a heist.

 

 

 

Now, without his horse, he had to rely on local transportation. He did not have enough money to buy a horse, and food kept going up in prices. He would try as much as he could to catch as many bounties as possible, but would always find himself with barely enough to get by.

 

 

 

We're getting to the cabin now sir! The man at the reins yelled up at Jack.

 

 

 

Just stop fifty yards from it, I'll go in through the back, you throw a dynamite in through the front.

 

 

 

Yes sir. The man replied, giving the thumbs up.

 

 

 

Jack waited for the carriage to stop before jumping off. He fell into the long grass, rolling to spread the pain of the fall. He pulled his revolver from its leather holster. It was a new, silver model. Most of the guns he had had before were dull gray, and had horrible aim. This revolver was perfect, and aimed better than anything he had seen. It's chamber also was slick, so he could easily place bullets into it without having to hide behind something as he slowly placed them in.

 

 

 

Jack slowly crouched through the long grass, trampling it below him. Ted (or whatever) was tying up three sticks of dynamite with a thin piece of rope.

 

 

 

Jack stared at the cabin ahead. It was nothing special, it had a nice porch on the front with a swing that slowly rocked back and forth in the wind. It had a large, jutting chimney. It also had a shed, shovels and other yard tools lying againt the outside walls.

 

 

 

The windows were closed, and the curtains were blocking Jack's view inside.

 

 

 

After ten minutes of slow progress, the duo made it to their positions. Jack put his back to the right side of the back door, while Ted stood, prepared to kick the front one in.

 

 

 

Jack felt sweat trickle down his forehead. The sun beat on him, and was menacing, even with a wide brimmed hat (also leather) on.

 

 

 

Ted then took a thin wooden match from his pocket and with a quick swipe over his stomach he was able to light it.

 

 

 

He placed the match on each of the three wires jutting from the sticks, listening to the satisfying crackle of the sparks.

 

 

 

He then kicked the door open.

 

 

 

It swung on its hinges, and just as it smashed into the wall inside, Ted threw the dynamite in. He then jumped off the porch, and waited for the imminent explosion.

 

 

 

There was no explosion.

 

 

 

After three minutes, Jack kicked open the back door, and walked into the cabin. He was in a straight corridor leading from the front to the back door. Rooms were placed to either side of the hallway. In these rooms, sat dead bodies, blood staining their shirts and pants. Hats lay on their heads, the same kind Jack wore.

 

 

 

Suddenly, as Jack quite his surveying, a man entered into the corridor. He was tall, and wore baggy pants and a leather jacket over a bare, muscled chest.

 

 

 

He held the dynamite in his hand, tossing it in the air and catching it without a second glance. He was taunting the two men, laughing at them mentally.

 

 

 

Nice try, but you got here too late, the bounties mine. He laughed and threw the dynamite at Jack's stomach. Jack caught it and checked the fuses.

 

 

 

There were only five centimeters left.

 

 

 

How? Jack asked.

 

 

 

The hunter showed him the blisters on his fingers.

 

 

 

Jack wanted to punch himself. It shouldn't have been quiet with twenty men in the house. Yet no sound escaped.

 

 

 

Stupid, stupid, stupid! He mumbled under his breath.

 

 

 

The hunter took a body from the doorway he had exited, and showed it to Jack.

 

 

 

This the man you were searching for? The body was riddled with bullet wounds. The mans stomach had been reduced to nothing but tatters.

 

 

 

Don't matter no more, cuz he's mine! The hunter laughed again, and then hefted the body over his shoulder before departing. He did not give a second glance to Ted, who was getting up from the grass.

 

 

 

Jack approached him while he dusted his knees off.

 

 

 

That man was a bloody brute! Ted said.

 

 

 

He stole our kill. Jack said, disappointment in his eyes.

 

 

 

Lets get back to town. Ted said.

 

 

 

Jack nodded.

 

 

 

Ted, who had been Jack's partner for a week, had never talked much about himself. He usually just took orders and took his share of the money. He owned a carriage, which was a plus, and he also had contacts throughout the frontier, which was an even bigger plus.

 

 

 

So far, with a partner, Jack had picked up quite a few thousand dollars more than usual. He did wish that his partner would talk more about himself though. Ted, or whatever, was a perplexing man. He was good with horses, every type of gun, and hand to hand combat. Where did he learn this?

 

 

 

As Jack rolled these questions around in his head, he heard Ted yell, and the gallop of horses.

 

 

 

Jack did not need to look up to know what had happened.

 

 

 

BLOODY THIEF! Ted screamed, drawing his pistol and shooting at the departing carriage.

 

 

 

Dammit. Jack muttered, looking up just in time to see the carriage go down a large hill and out of site.

[Harakiri]

Chapter 2 will be up tomorrow for those interested.

[archimage_a]

The epic return(shall try to keep it up)

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

 

Jack sat on the wagon, holding onto the rail along the roofs perimeter as the wheels hit holes in the ground.

 

 

 

Good opening, shame about the word 'Sat'...its an inactive word, it is often used to begin jokes 'Three men were sitting' ect. because it sets the reader or listener in as passive state of mind, as though the person is about to do something mentally consuming, like write an essay or tell a story, not a hell bent murder mission(which was my earliest impression). Perimeter is also not a good word, it sides with the idea of a essay or other mentally involved activity. A prefered version:

 

Jack cluched the rail tight as the wagon bombed its way though the potholed road.

 

 

 

The man clutching the reins screamed Giddyup! He wore a pinstriped suit, and his hair was combed back. His name was Ted or something like that. He spoke with a thick British accent. Call him a limey, though, and he would break all of your fingers until you screamed God save the queen.

 

 

 

Doesn't need a full new paragraph, though that is a personal thing more than anything else. 'The man' is a very non-descript phrase and should never really be used to begin a sentance beyond a childs book because it does form the bulk of child's learning book's openings. Additionally screamed is not a particually effective word for a house driver, it sounds like they have no control or are clinically insane. In either eventuality it is not a good verb for the situation because 'Giddyup' is usually something to make them go faster, and if the road is badly holed....

 

As for his sense of dress, ok I don't know what I gonna happen next but really, a pinstriped suit. Is that something Americans relate the wild-west to? It was always my opinion that maybe a traveling salesman who would whip out a tonic of somekind, but then they would be in a carriage because they would need to hide the fact it was water or colouring...

 

As for British. Limey was because Brits ate limes during the end of the 18th century. This story would be taking place in the same century but probably the first half.

 

God save the Queen...although my kings and queens are rusty I am fairly sure that Victoria was 19th century but mid-late 19th...

 

 

 

Jack wore a pair of jeans, with a thick leather pad secured around his thighs. He also wore a denim button down, and a leather jacket. His boots were also leather, exactly the reason his wife left him.

 

 

 

Alternating between characters like this only really works when you have big paragraphs and they lead onto each other. The wife referance places him at 50 odd... A cowboy wouldn't have a wife, or more correctly if he did then she would be with him, unless of course this is very early wild west...

 

 

 

 

 

You kill too many animals. She would scream at him as he got back from his shopping in town.

 

Scream has been used twice and a man going shopping...well anyway...

 

 

 

Too bad I haven't killed you. He would reply under his breath. He soon learned women had very keen hearing. He was sent packing, and next thing he knew he was living off bounty hunting.

 

This is, sorry to say, a weak storyline. He has married someone who is clearly aggressive and threw the sole breadwinner out of the house, either she has a very sympathetic family or she is a showgirl, in which case she probably wouldn't care about the shopping.

 

 

 

It was too bad, because he loved that ranch where he would keep the animals healthy and help his wife with the garden. They had a large barnful of horses, and when he was kicked out, he was told to take only one. He wanted to take them all, but decided to take his favorite, Lightning.

 

 

 

Right...so his wife magically has ownership...And its a ranch...the nearest 'police' would be hours away, he could have easily beaten her until she gave in, as frequently happened.

 

I think it is simply a case of applying modern day thinking to a old way of life, and that just dones't work.

 

 

 

The fastest horse he knew, it had been his best friend for a year of hunting, before getting run over by a train while its owner tried to prevent a heist.

 

 

 

Sigh...Yep, here is a major plot point and actually its dead so it isn't important. As for preventing a heist...If something like that had happened he would probably be dead, it is certainly more likely than a horse being run over by a train.

 

 

 

Now, without his horse, he had to rely on local transportation. He did not have enough money to buy a horse, and food kept going up in prices. He would try as much as he could to catch as many bounties as possible, but would always find himself with barely enough to get by.

 

 

 

So a failed heist-breaker becomes a bounty hunter without a horse. Shelter obvouisly not a problem :roll: .

 

I think this character has a certain amount of Sueism, or perfection...No matter what happens they go 'Oh well, whats the moral thing to do now.'

 

 

 

We're getting to the cabin now sir! The man at the reins yelled up at Jack.

 

 

 

Getting close to?

 

 

 

Just stop fifty yards from it, I'll go in through the back, you throw a dynamite in through the front.

 

 

 

Dynamite being worth a fairly large amount, not to mention a house being worth alot. Aside from that blowing a building up is no way to be a bounty hunter, you are relying on an explosion to kill someone but not blow them to unrecognisable peices...or anyone could say they had killed them and there would be no proof.

 

 

 

Jack waited for the carriage to stop before jumping off. He fell into the long grass, rolling to spread the pain of the fall.

 

 

 

Bending his knees not an option? Or is the wagon/carriage 20ft tall?

 

 

 

It was a new, silver model.Most of the guns he had had before were dull gray, and had horrible aim. This revolver was perfect, and aimed better than anything he had seen.

 

 

 

'Somehow he got by.'

 

 

 

Jack slowly crouched through the long grass, trampling it below him. Ted (or whatever) was tying up three sticks of dynamite with a thin piece of rope.

 

 

 

String/twine obvouisly at a premium. As for three sticks...considering you would use 6 sticks to blow out a couple of tonnes of rock three seems a bit much.

 

 

 

Jack stared at the cabin ahead. It was nothing special, it had a nice porch on the front with a swing that slowly rocked back and forth in the wind. It had a large, jutting chimney. It also had a shed, shovels and other yard tools lying againt the outside walls.

 

 

 

Not only an expensive house, its a plantation in the middle of central America...or this is late wild west.

 

 

 

After ten minutes of slow progress, the duo made it to their positions. Jack put his back to the right side of the back door, while Ted stood, prepared to kick the front one in.

 

Should really be a full stop after 'back door'. As for 10 minutes...the curtains are closed and you are in the desert. Unless you were waiting for a tumble weed it would take a minute or so.

 

 

 

Jack felt sweat trickle down his forehead. The sun beat on him, and was menacing, even with a wide brimmed hat (also leather) on.

 

 

 

There are not a lot of other materials to make a hat out of....Good first line though.

 

 

 

Ted then took a thin wooden match from his pocket and with a quick swipe over his stomach he was able to light it.

 

 

 

Wearing a wooden corset? Or the door frame not good enough...

 

 

 

He then kicked the door open.

 

 

 

Poor English.

 

 

 

It swung on its hinges, and just as it smashed into the wall inside, Ted threw the dynamite in. He then jumped off the porch, and waited for the imminent explosion.

 

 

 

Sounds like you are reporting a very dull story. 'The door swung on its hinges' So either these hinges are massive and the door is heavy or it is a wonder of nature... 'waited for the imminent explosion.' A good reader will know that there will be an explosion and knows that is why he jumped off the porch.

 

 

 

After three minutes, Jack kicked open the back door, and walked into the cabin. He was in a straight corridor leading from the front to the back door. Rooms were placed to either side of the hallway. In these rooms, sat dead bodies, blood staining their shirts and pants. Hats lay on their heads, the same kind Jack wore.

 

 

 

Oh but of course, and this bounty would have been the extremely high one?

 

 

 

He held the dynamite in his hand, tossing it in the air and catching it without a second glance. He was taunting the two men, laughing at them mentally.

 

 

 

Look at me, I can throw and catch a stick. It is just not that good a skill to have.

 

 

 

Nice try, but you got here too late, the bounties mine. He laughed and threw the dynamite at Jack's stomach. Jack caught it and checked the fuses.

 

 

 

There were only five centimeters left.

 

 

 

 

Oh no, this is so much better. A lone gun man has managed to somehow overpower a house of maybe 12 people(assuming 4 rooms and 3 people in each room), in addition to somehow lengthening the fuse on the dynamite.

 

 

 

 

Jack wanted to punch himself. It shouldn't have been quiet with twenty men in the house. Yet no sound escaped.

 

 

 

Not twelve, twenty, my mistake.

 

 

 

The hunter took a body from the doorway he had exited, and showed it to Jack.

 

A body is fairly heavy...so either this guy is from the 22nd century with gene boosting or Jack and Ted don't know how to take advantage of a situation.

 

 

 

This the man you were searching for? The body was riddled with bullet wounds. The mans stomach had been reduced to nothing but tatters.

 

 

 

So a Gattling gun, mid-late wild west...just a shame that a gun like that would have tore though the house as well.

 

 

 

Don't matter no more, cuz he's mine! The hunter laughed again, and then hefted the body over his shoulder before departing. He did not give a second glance to Ted, who was getting up from the grass.

 

 

 

'He was mentally laughing at both of then' and now one is outside...

 

 

 

He stole our kill. Jack said, disappointment in his eyes.

 

 

 

OMG he PWNed us!

 

 

 

Ted, who had been Jack's partner for a week, had never talked much about himself. He usually just took orders and took his share of the money. He owned a carriage, which was a plus, and he also had contacts throughout the frontier, which was an even bigger plus.

 

 

 

So pretty much the brains, the brawn and well everything else to the operation.

 

 

 

So far, with a partner, Jack had picked up quite a few thousand dollars more than usual. He did wish that his partner would talk more about himself though. Ted, or whatever, was a perplexing man. He was good with horses, every type of gun, and hand to hand combat. Where did he learn this?

 

 

 

I repeat myself.

 

 

 

"Dammit. Jack muttered, looking up just in time to see the carriage go down a large hill and out of site.

 

 

 

Well that wasn't expected, what with Jack's string of bad luck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All in all it sounds like a fan fic to a game I have not played...sort of there but mainly not. I would recommend going back over it and expanding it in your mind before reposting.

 

 

 

Just to note I am not trying to be hurtful or flame, I am just giving my immediate response.

[Harakiri]

To tell the truth Archi, its a spin off of Red Dead Revolver on the PS2. There was a britsh guy named Tom Swift who wore a pinstriped suit, and was pretty cool. And there seemed to be five thousand pound giants in the game.

 

 

 

LOL though, love your commentary. I laughed even if it did completely [bleep] my story.

 

 

 

Its one of my first attempts at a western.

 

 

 

Eh, I should've stuck with RS fan fiction...or fantasy. I might try Sci-Fi again, I have only written one chapter of sci fi ever.

[Guest]

To tell the truth Archi, its a spin off of Red Dead Revolver on the PS2. There was a britsh guy named Tom Swift who wore a pinstriped suit, and was pretty cool. And there seemed to be five thousand pound giants in the game.

 

 

 

LOL though, love your commentary. I laughed even if it did completely [bleep] my story.

 

 

 

Its one of my first attempts at a western.

 

 

 

Eh, I should've stuck with RS fan fiction...or fantasy. I might try Sci-Fi again, I have only written one chapter of sci fi ever.

 

 

 

I found that pretty good. I look forward to hearing more of your writing :)

[Harakiri]

To tell the truth Archi, its a spin off of Red Dead Revolver on the PS2. There was a britsh guy named Tom Swift who wore a pinstriped suit, and was pretty cool. And there seemed to be five thousand pound giants in the game.

 

 

 

LOL though, love your commentary. I laughed even if it did completely [bleep] my story.

 

 

 

Its one of my first attempts at a western.

 

 

 

Eh, I should've stuck with RS fan fiction...or fantasy. I might try Sci-Fi again, I have only written one chapter of sci fi ever.

 

 

 

I found that pretty good. I look forward to hearing more of your writing :)

 

 

 

Who? Me or Archi?

[mr_dude160]

 

His name was Ted or something like that. He spoke with a thick British accent.

 

 

 

 

 

The punctuation of this kind of gets me. If you were to read this aloud, it would probably sound a little off, don't you think?

 

 

 

His name was Ted or something like that, and he spoke with a thick British accent.

 

 

 

Something like that would probably make it flow better.

 

 

 

 

After three minutes, Jack kicked open the back door, and walked into the cabin. He was in a straight corridor leading from the front to the back door. Rooms were placed to either side of the hallway. In these rooms, sat dead bodies, blood staining their shirts and pants. Hats lay on their heads, the same kind Jack wore.

 

 

 

Suddenly, as Jack quite his surveying, a man entered into the corridor. He was tall, and wore baggy pants and a leather jacket over a bare, muscled chest.

 

 

 

only a few problems. "In these rooms" can't stand alone like that, it needs a verb. Luckily, you have one right after that unneeded comma. "In these rooms sat dead bodies," is the way to go.

 

 

 

And did you mean he quit his surveying?

 

 

 

Dammit. Jack muttered, looking up just in time to see the carriage go down a large hill and out of site.

 

 

 

Wrong use of the word site. It should be sight.

 

 

 

I could probably do more nitpicking, but i have to go... Happy writing ^^

[archimage_a]

Anti-nit picking! To the Rescue!

 

 

 

"His name was Ted...or something like that. He spoke with a thick British accent."

 

 

 

When spoke aloud it should really be:

 

His name was Ted *Pause* or something like that.

 

It indicates that he is thinking, mulling over what he knows, it reminds me of a story teller telling a story for the first time. Instantly backed up by:

 

He spoke with a thick Britsh accent.

 

There has been another pause, a seperate but related point made.

 

His name was Ted...or something, I don't know, but he did speak with a thick British accent.

 

It is a refined version that that.

 

It needs more of a story tell attitude, stops and digressions as well as tension and action.

 

 

 

'In these rooms' has the same effect.

 

In these rooms *pause* sat dead bodies *pause* blood staining their shirts and pants.

 

Depends on how you want to play it though, mr dude is right if you want a novel, where as I am right if you want a tale told.

 

 

 

Otherwise good observations Dude.

[mr_dude160]

You're right, I was thinking along the lines of a novel, rather than a spoken story. I hadn't thought of it that way :-k