(Oh thank you!)
"N-No…" Sam said, trailing off. He wasn't even halfway done. The villain Mel was facing wasn't even the main villain! He hated to admit it, but he only had a basic outline for what he wanted to write. He had no idea who all the characters were going to be, he had no idea even what gender Mel's love interest was going to be. Hell, he didn't even know if he was going to make Mel asexual or not. He sighed.
"So then just…word vomit! I don't care! Just do something!" Mel was trying to be pissed and encouraging at the same time. She wasn't sure if her advice would work, but she tried.
Sam's face crinkled into a look of disgust and confusion.
"Okay, first off, for the love of god never say that phrase again. And second off- I've tried that before with another story. Do you know what happened to that story?" He asked, in a slightly threatening tone.
"No, I have no idea what happened," she rolled her eyes, sarcasm like her second language. "Word vomit is used to jot ideas down! Write down options! 'If this happens, then…', you know? I'm not forcing you to do anything!" Mel was bored. "So what do I do now, Sam?"
"Right now you can shut the hell up!" Sam slammed a fist on his desk, getting pissed, "And stop trying to tell me how to write!" He groaned, taking a moment to collect himself. He knew what writing techniques worked for him. Word vomiting was not one of them. The last story he had tried that for, it became convoluted and lost any resemblance to a plot. And he had deleted it. He had been wondering whether he should do the same with this story, saving the scenes he likes and scrapping the rest, starting fresh, but he knew that was off the table now.
Mel bit her tongue, her eyebrows raised. She hadn't expected for him to snap at her. Takes one to know one, I guess… was a faint thought that echoed in her head. After all, she was technically Sam's creation.
(Hello, I have returned! Are you still interested in continuing?)
(YES PLEASE :D)
(Sorry for seeming overexcited…I still like the idea…)
(Yeay! I also still really like the idea too XD)
Sam rubbed his temple, trying to calm down a bit. He had heard what she had thought; it was hard for him not to. He had been working for ages to get access to her mind, see what she was thinking so he could actually write a story about her. He finally opened his eyes, turning back to the computer. The first thing he did was delete the conversation they had had; it had stopped appearing on the screen earlier, but even then there was enough there to change the entire plot of the story. Now, they were back where they had begun.
Melanie looked into the fire, grabbing the girl and hugging her, clutching her, desperately wanting her to live.
"You think this is funny? Torturing and killing, murdering an entire town? This is funny?" There was anger and hostility in her voice as she let the few tears she had fall, sizzling against the flames.
Sam sat at his computer, typing away. He followed Melanie, seeing into her mind. He saw how much she wanted this girl to live; a possible love interest?
"I'm…what? No! I'm not…interested…in her…. Amaya's just…a very close friend of mine. Yeah!" Mel seemed to respond to Sam, but was that blush from the heat of the scorching flame, or from something else?
Dragging Amaya past the flames, Melanie fel back, barely catching herself so she was in a sitting position.
"Shh, shh. May-may, you're gonna be okay, alright? I'm not gonna let you die, okay?" Melanie cooed towards her friend, petting her hair while she cautiously looked around for any hostilities.
Sam scoffed, speaking under his breath.
"Sure, Mel. Whatever you say."
The far off sound of footsteps could be heard; guards, no doubt. Amaya looked up at Melanie, tears in her eyes. She had burns covering her entire body, blisters forming over several. She raised a shaking hand to Melanie.
"P-Please… you have to go."
"May, you know I can't…I'll…I'll figure something out, alright? I don't want you to go through hell. You know what the king can do…" But it had seemed that Melanie had lost hope. She wasn't strong enough to carry Amaya, too weak from fighting.
"God damn it, May-may…" Melanie was distressed, and with what little strength she had, hugged Amaya tightly.
"I'll find you, May-may. I will. I promise, and you know I will never break a promise." Melanie stood and, before leaving, silently hoped that Amaya would be safe from the hell that Mel had went through when she was taken.
(Dang, I might actually use this for a character and/or story…)
( That'd be cool!)
Sam leaned back in his chair after writing this, thinking. He rubbed his eyes, tired.
"I think that's it for tonight…"
"So you'll leave me hanging? So I must wait at least twelve hours to continue on?" Melanie's heart was still hurting from her decision as she swallowed down the ache in her throat.
(Are we just going to time skip?)
(Ye, after this)
Sam pushed his chair back, standing up.
"Yeah, you will." At this point, he didn't really care if she was actually alive or not; it was his story, and he would still write it on his time.
"Hey! Asshole! I'm still here! I haven't gotten any rest! I'm still-goddammit…" Melanie was realizing he was serious when he stood up to leave.
About twelve years-or rather, hours-later, Melanie sighed. "Any 'grand ideas' in your dreams, oh author of this story?"
Sam grumbled a response, a seeming hybrid between 'fight me' and 'shut up.' He rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them, sitting down heavily in his chair. It was the weekend, so he might have some time to get some work done on the story.
"That's a wonderful idea! Because I haven't been waiting here forever!" Melanie stood over Amaya and fled, knowing that if she turned back, she wouldn't run. She just needed to run, wanting to run away from the situation, run away from her problems, runaway to a happy ending with Amaya.
But life wasn't like that.
It never was.
Especially with someone like Sam as her author.
After getting up again to make himself coffee, he was back at the computer, staring at the screen with dead eyes. After writing down what was going on with Melanie at that moment, he sat back. Damn writer's block. He threw around a few ideas as to what to throw at Melanie next. Dragon? Magically enslaved townspeople? More emotional trauma to do with her close friends and loved ones?
Don't you dare mess with my 'emotional trauma'. That bullshit you pulled there is enough. Melanie thinks, ducking behind a building to catch her breath. Sooner or later, silent tears fall as she grieves her friend. She didn't want her to die, but death was the better solution to torture. But Melanie was too stubborn, too hopeful, too-
-in love? No, not me. Not me, Mel, the adventurer. You don't get to love someone, Mel. You live life for the thrill of it all, but now…look where it got you. Amid war and destruction, you're the only one fighting. Just you…you and May-may.
Sam ignored the first part Melanie thought, but he liked how the second part sounded. As he was typing, an idea came to him. Before Melanie could tell what it was, however, he was already filing it away for later, something he would definitely use later. But now was too soon to enact it.
Already, he wrote, the sound of guards could be heard again, meaning only one thing; they had already taken Amaya away, to the depths of the castle. After all, she held information the king wanted.
Letting out a shaky sigh, Melanie came out from hiding. Mel, Like a coward-and she felt bad for it-she didn't go after Amaya. She couldn't, not with her wounds, both physical and emotional.
"What are you doing?" Mel had yelled that day, finding a girl around her age tugging her bag. She had stringy brown hair that was a mess, and I could easily see her ribcage. Her eyes were wide with fear as she froze from my voice.
"You won't even find much in there. Here," I gave her the leg of the rabbit I had hunted, and her cautious hands took it. She kept looking at it for a while.
"You're supposed to eat it, silly!" I had said, breaking her trance to look at me. She took a small bite, and she devoured it within a minute, grease running down her face as she smiled at me.
"I'm Melanie. What's your name?"
She took a step back and responded. "I-I'm Amaya…"
"Well then, Amaya, do you want to come to my house? My mother makes a killer beef stew."
"Okay!" May-may had beamed. "I mean, I'd love that. Thank you."
That was when we met. I never knew who or what or how she was so skinny and frail, but ever since we met, she'd stick by my side, even if I was reckless…and I was reckless often. And selfish, so, so selfish. I'm so sorry, May-may.
I'm so sorry.
So sorry.
Melanie stood and ran, away from the castle. She couldn't bring herself to go there, not now, when she was tired and hurt in more ways than one.
(Sorry for the longer responce!)
(You, kidding, I love it!)
Sam typed away, finally obtaining some life in his eyes. This was going amazing, from an author's perspective. He finally sat back, staring at the screen. Now, an important question; how was he going to realistically get Melanie healed. For this, he turned to Google, trying to identify exactly what wounds she would have physically, and how long they usually took to heal.
(Um, second-degree burns, maybe a medium cut and multiple small cuts (they would scab over and heal naturally with time, but I'm assuming medicine would help prevent infection. Note: I'm not a medical expert, so don't quote me on that…) Maybe a pulled muscle, like, say, her left shoulder?)
Melanie clenched her fists, biting her cheek to distract herself as she ran.
Mind hurrying up with Google? These stupid burns hurt like hell!
Melanie didn't mention what had happened-or even what she remembered. She was past that now, or so she had hoped so.
"Sure, sure, whatever…" Sam was already on a tangent, casually browsing through the medical websites to see how they were normally treated. And like that, his storytelling ground to a halt, leaving Melanie unable to move.
(Ach! Gtg! I'll respond tomorrow, at the latest!)
(Okay, see you then!)