Adventure Game Studio

Creative Production => Critics' Lounge => Topic started by: The Book on Sun 13/02/2005 13:55:49

Title: A piece of writing
Post by: The Book on Sun 13/02/2005 13:55:49
 "Sar" has monologue-driven narrative. There is a moment in the game when the protagonist, At Teuren, looks at the clerk in Guard headquarters. A monologue follows:
"
I didn't know the guy's name, to me he was just 'the clerk' and nothing more.
Every time I stepped through the narrow door to our humble fortress we exchanged looks; and this exchange carried more meaning than any verbal conversation.
As our looks met, so did our madness; each sprang from different source, each had its own, mute tongue.
Mine was a madness of hunter, hunting its prey down the empty streets.
This was the madness of constant alertness and insomnia.
His kind of madness was the opposite of mine.
It was a madness of infernal stasis; an eternity of motionlessness without a faintest hope for relocation.
This was the madness of constant boredom and insomnia.
Several times a week, these two kinds of damnation met in mute conversation that occured within the evanescent moment when we looked in each others eyes.
How close to each other we were; how alien at the same time. "

I'd like to ask english users to correct any stylistic or grammar mistakes in the monologue.
Title: Re: A piece of writing
Post by: Dreben ama Vreden on Mon 14/02/2005 08:31:55
"Mine was the madness of a hunter"
Title: Re: A piece of writing
Post by: The Book on Mon 14/02/2005 16:48:17
Thanks!

Does the text contain any other mistakes?
Title: Re: A piece of writing
Post by: YOke on Mon 14/02/2005 17:07:40
There's a bit of repetition regarding the madness of the clerk.
What if:

"I didn't know the guy's name, to me he was just 'the clerk' and nothing more.
Every time I stepped through the narrow door to our humble fortress we exchanged looks; and this exchange carried more meaning than any verbal conversation.
As our looks met, so did our madness; each sprang from different source, each had its own, mute tongue.
Mine was the madness of a hunter, hunting its prey down the empty streets; the madness of constant alertness and insomnia.
His kind of madness was one of constant boredom and infernal stasis, the complete opposite of mine.
Several times a week, these two madnesses - these two damnations - met in mute conversation that occured within the evanescent moment when our eyes met.
How close to each other we were; how alien at the same time. "

Made it a bit shorter and moved some of the words around.