NYC Mage

[Stardust]

I've had an idea floating around in my head for a story I planned to call NYC Mage. My original intentions were to do it in a third-person person perspective with insight into the mind of the main character, but I was thinking about it yesterday and I had an idea. What if I try to make it a collection of monologues? Well, this is what I wrote earlier today and I want to see what others think of it. I'd like your thoughts on the idea of using monologues like this and also any critiques of what I've written so far. Just a warning though: this isn't exactly a happy story.



I still remember the first time I heard the dreaded phrase "soul break". We never hear it outside the magic community and even inside that community it's something that's whispered and hushed. I supposed it's something one born into magic would hear of before being told they have to watch someone experience it. But of course, my idiot parents couldn't even use a telephone, so I wouldn't expect them to fucking handle magic.

Anyone and everyone who wants to be a part of the magic community has to watch someone experience a soul break. In a way, it's an initiation. We're told it's "to prepare us for the harsh reality of what someone might try to do to us", but anyone with a brain knows it's just a scare tactic. The OC is usually the only group who can successfully soul break someone, so their lecture on the dangers are complete bullshit.

The victim was John Andrews. I had seen him around the city once or twice and he was fairly average. In fact, I was incredibly surprised to find out he would be anywhere in the magic community. As with most people who the OC decided deserved a soul break, they read through the reasoning behind their decision. No one wanted to actually watch, but they gave people the opportunity to listen so there wouldn't be questions and couldn't be decisions made without reasoning. I hate laws and politics. But the OC was fair and open and they've always had my respect for that.

The room was simple. It was large, gray, and empty except for a huge stone chair in the center. Two guards struggled to tie John down with chains and magic while a judge read off the accusation to me and one girl who also had to be "initiated".

"John Andrews, registered as an advanced medium, was confronted on October fifth by three humans meaning to rob him of his possessions." John screamed as the guards slammed his feet into the front of the chair. "His action was transferring his visions to all three non-mages, permanently scarring them."

"Those bastards deserved it!" John roared in a demonic voice. A guard waved his hand over John's mouth, muting him.

"For this action, which violates several laws regarding conduct with non-mages and medium-specific laws, John has been sentenced to a soul break. There are no exceptions." With that, the paper in his hand disappeared to somewhere in The Archives.

Translated, that means John snapped. Mediums see both our realm and the realm of spirits. When they begin working for the OC, they are taught to enhance the ability so their mind can enter the spirit realm at will. The things in there...no one wants to be there. But since the spirit realm is tied strongly to magic, the OC offers a lot of incentives to people with the ability. So some take the path, but the end result is always insanity. It's never a question of if; it's a question of when.

I turned to the girl next to me. She was still fairly young - somewhere in her mid teens. I doubted she would handle this well judging from the look on her face.

The guards had finished strapping John down. Chains that grew from the stone wrapped around him so that no matter how he struggled he couldn't budge. And there were likely numerous spells around them to make sure John couldn't break free or use any abilities.

The judge moved toward John so that he stood directly in front of him. A demon's eyes glared back in protest, then closed as he realized his fate had been decided. The guards hovered their hands over John's shoulders as the Judge grew silent in concentration. The victim's eyes opened slowly and focused on me, standing in the background against my will. In that moment, I wanted to help him. I saw the human - the sorrow, the sadness, the torture he had been through and now the betrayal of the ones who taught him how to succumb to the torture.

I felt the energy coming from the judge as he started to direct it at John. The victim grimaced in pain and struggled against the chains. His mouth opened wide in what would have been a bloodcurdling scream had he not been muted by the guard. The sheer pain I saw in his face made me want to look away. I didn't want to see it. I wanted to turn and run and never look back. But I was frozen in place, watching a man's soul get torn to shreds and listening to a girl sob next to me.

After a few minutes, John stopped struggling. The guards started releasing the chains while he stared at me with empty eyes. The eyes of something no longer human. The judge turned to me and the girl like he had just accidentally squashed a bug. "You may leave now."

 

[Stardust]

Rayzack

No one knows what "OC" stands for. There's a whole history behind the initials, apparently stretching far beyond the current era. From the little I've learned of it, the organization adopted the initials from some ruins they found. Tom finds the idea of a gap in our history fascinating, but I don't care whether or not magic faded from our knowledge for a while. The answer won't do shit for me now.

If it has to be extended, it's usually "Overseers of Conduct". Only the morons who hide behind formalities actually try extending it. "OC" is just easier and some claim even that is a mistranslation from the original language found in the ruins. I've come to the conclusion the only people who give a fuck about the name are the ones who complain about every little thing anyway. People like Tom who are curious don't even bother with challenging the name. The OC has its own definition now.

The political structure of the OC is simple, as it should be. There are eight elected members of the Ring, each focusing on a different department of magic while convening to vote on new rules or amendments to existing ones. Unlike the ridiculous campaigns of human politicians, it's pretty much just a vote on who we think will do the best job. In a community where about a third of the members can tell when you're lying, political bullshit goes out the window real fast. Underneath each of them are various other positions, like the judges and guards. Each member of the Ring works separately and controls his or her department, which seems to work surprisingly well.

Then there's Rayzack. His position is called "Lord" or some fancy title like that. He's the one who really runs the show. The Ring does mostly background work, so they needed someone to be a figurehead. If there's a tie in the Ring's voting, Rayzack also acts as a deciding vote. That's the technical weight of his position.

In reality, Rayzack has enough influence to do just about anything he wants. Unlike the Ring members, who have to go through an election ever decade, Rayzack is in for life. And thank the heavens for that! Some disagree with his decisions occasionally, but no one with a brain denies that he's effective.

Rayzack is the type of person who oozes with confidence, but not with that snotty "I'm better than you" attitude. He spends most of his time helping the teachers and students, which is where I first met him. He was sweeping the floor in one of my classes during break. With a broom in hand and ordinary clothing, I assumed him to be a janitor.

"Hey!" I called to him. He looked up with a smile and leaned on the broom. "Have you seen my notebook around? I left it on my desk...I think."

"I put it on the counter," he said, grinning and pointing to the area on my left. I looked over to see it lying there, perfectly aligned with the corner of the counter.

I picked it up with a chuckle. "What's your name?"

"Rayzack," he responded smoothly. When the look of bewilderment crossed my face, he returned his attention to the paper and dirt on the floor. Everyone knew him, the head of the OC. And here he was, sweeping. Not even sweeping with magic; he was using a human tool. I couldn't say anything for a time, so I just watched as he hummed a tune and swept the floor. He wasn't lying; I'm one of the third who can pick out lies. And he looked so...normal.

"Why are you...sweeping?"

Rayzack got that wicked grin on his face. "Because I enjoy it. It gives me time to think." He grabbed a dustpan from the counter and swept a pile of dirt and papers into it. I backed up as he walked over to the garbage can next to me. Then he looked directly at me with his hazel eyes. "You're going to miss your lunch! Go on and eat while you can! We'll get a chance to talk some other time."

I couldn't do anything but nod and start walking toward the lunchroom while Rayzack went into another classroom with his broom and dustpan.

Some say he's crazy. I think he's brilliant.

 

[Stardust]

Grandfather...

"Grandfather, I hate to bother you, but I desperately need your guidance."

I looked over at the man sitting a few graves down from where I was kneeling. He had his eyes closed and hands clasped together, so I turned my attention back to my sister's grave and the weeds growing into it.

"I'm not sure what to do with mom anymore." I turned back to the man near me, but he still had his eyes closed and was facing the grave in front of him. "She's still unhappy with Dan, but she won't do anything about it."

Was he...talking to himself? I watched as he seemed to listen to a non-existent response and felt decidedly uncomfortable being near him. I never liked people who claimed to be "mediums" or "psychic"; it was all in their head and that made them insane and unstable. I was so naive back then.

"Thank you. I promise I'll visit again soon." With that, he pushed himself up and brushed off his pants. "Think I'm crazy?"

I hadn't even noticed that I was still staring at him. "N...no, of course not!"

"I can tell you're lying," he said, looking at my sister's grave. "I would have thought me insane a few years ago. She's your sister, I'm assuming?" He gave a gentle nod toward the grave in front of me.

"Yeah...car accident..." My eyes feel to the ground as I tried to hide the sorrow.

"I'm sure she appreciates the time you spend here." With a smile, he turned around, got into his car, and waved to me as he drove off. I didn't really know what to say. Regardless of his insanity, he understood, so I reconsidered my opinion of him. Looking back, I'm not sure why that one sentence meant so much. I guess I was beginning to think the trips a waste of time. Whatever the reason, I'm glad he said it.

I saw him again about a year later. He seemed much more solemn as I walked up to my sister's grave. "How's your grandfather?" I asked with a slight snicker.

"He moved on," he said quietly, picking out a couple of weeds.

"He wasn't here last time, so what's different? What does that mean? You can't talk to him anymore?" I was a snippy bastard most of that year.

The man nodded slowly, brushing off the stone in silence. I wondered what his name was. It was probably something stupid-

"I'm Tom," he snapped. "If you're going to be like this I'll just leave."

"Mark, be nice." My sister's voice. I turned to look at her grave, but everything was silent. We were the only two people here.

Tom started chuckling. "I take it you heard her? That's the face most people make when they hear a spirit." I stared at him skeptically, trying to find some source of noise - anything that I could misinterpret as her voice.

"And you thought I was crazy!"

"You'll get used to it eventually," Tom whispered with a grin. "Either that or you'll block it out and struggle with the voices your entire life. If you choose to accept it..." He reached into and inside pocket on his jacket and pulled out a small index card. The background had OC in huge letters with a name, phone number, and e-mail address in the front. "Send me a message or something. It's a bit more...involved than you think, though."

I nodded and started to trying to think of the extension for OC. He glanced at his grandfather's grave one last time before leaving.

"It's nice to be able to talk to you, little brother."

I grinned and started cleaning off my sister's grave, tucking Tom's card into my pocket. "It's nice talking to you, too. I've missed you so much..."

 

[dadevvtsvre]

Seeing as there's no comments yet, I'll give you my thoughts of it.

A lot of it sounds like typical "angry teenager" writing, though. Right away I'm given the impression of an angry teen, and that puts me off:

But of course, my idiot parents couldn't even use a telephone, so I wouldn't expect them to fucking handle magic.

I hate laws and politics.

things like that. Maybe I'm just biased but I've heard things like this far too much, and after a while the whole angsty shindig gets repetitive. But maybe that's my personal preference more than anything.

Also, careful about liberal adverb usage. It's common in new writers to use too many adverbs, and it can really create bad storytelling. Here's an example of too many adverbs:

With a lowered head and eyes fixed in front, she moved silently, swiftly and carefully like a cat stalking its prey. The dirt worked its way stubbornly into her fingernails. She coughed softly and carefully continued on her way.

It's not like there's so many that it's impossible to read or anything. But it's something you'll want to keep in mind when you're writing in the future.

Some of your dialogue could be improved upon. imo, some of it sounds like it's from a campy movie or something similar. I wish I could be more specific, but it sounds like somewhat juvenile writing. Like this, for example:

"Those bastards deserved it!" John roared in a demonic voice.

sounds like something I've heard a million times before. It's alright to just say "he said" after somebody says something. It's perfectly acceptable. Most of the time, that's all we're doing, anyway. If you have too many instances of "he yelled loudly" or "she whispered in a monotone voice" or "he responded smoothly" it starts to get boring. Most of the time, readers don't even read the part after dialogue. And besides, if your dialogue is strong enough, most of the time the dialogue itself will fill the reader's head with sound and emotion, and the adjectives after the dialogue isn't even needed.

 

[Stardust]

Heh nice critiques. Thanks for writing them down.

(I get compliments but they're incredibly unhelpful, so it's nice that someone took the time to point out things they thought were wrong with it.)

Angry Teenager - yeah I see what you're saying. I'm trying to push away from that as I go further as a sort of time progression (seeing how the narrator develops through the story), but it's good that you pointed that out. I do have a habit of going in that direction, so I'll try to make sure to veer myself on the path I intended to take with him when I began.

Adverb - someone else pointed that out with something else I wrote, actually. :x It's not something I usually watch for when I'm writing, so thanks for reminding me that I have that problem.

Dialogue - yeah there were certain instances where I didn't like the dialogue. In that part you quoted...he's actually roaring, though. That's not an excuse; it was hinting at him being possessed by a demon. I meant "demonic voice" very literally. I think I see what you're saying, though, and I'll keep it in mind as I continue with this.

Again, thanks for all the great advice. :wink:

 

[Stardust]

Three section update! (I finally got around to typing them up. ^^ The first two are kinda "blah" and boring, but the last I like. The last section is also what I made for the Creative Writing Workshop.



Clueless
The OC is an organization, not a government. We abide by the laws of the human governments and then have the choice to accept the additional rules of the OC...assuming we run into another mage. A lot of people with magical abilities suppress it and hide it. We call them "the clueless". Occassionally they're dangerous - not knowing how to control magic energy ensures that - but most are harmless.

Naturally, there are challengers to the OC. Rogue mages with various abilities have begun other organizations, the most successful being The Wave. Whenever another group gets too powerful, the Ring orders them to be dispersed. Directly, the OC doesn't have control, but they can impose restrictions on the various trade groups and businesses to effectively stop supplies from reaching the rival organization. The OC is the biggest buyer in most cases, so companies don't risk losing that and usually agree to the Ring's laws. Not that it always works at first. Businessmen can be sneaky when they might make a profit. But when OC inspectors start visiting and looking through records, they have to make a choice. They always choose the OC.

The Wave...Rayzack saved them. It's the only time I've ever doubted him. I still hear whispers of "traitor" when Rayzack is around. But The Wave accepted some OC restrictions and it went over alright without them being dispanded. Tensions still exist, but The Wave make some unique magic items and trade makes most people at least accept their presence.

No one really knows why Rayzack stood up for The Wave. There are numerous conspiracy theories. They even go so far as to say Rayzack is the founder. I think it was just business. The OC is mainly teaching and defense. The other departments exist, but funding is limited. On the other hand, The Wave focuses on technology and experimentation with magic. They venture into areas the OC strictly prohibits, like necromancy, which was the reasoning the Ring gave for their elimination proposal. Rayzack would see the usefulness of these differences. The OC laws are potentially stagnating our growth, so having a separate group for advanccement is beneficial as long as the two work together.

I have no idea how I got involved in all of this.



Insanity is Calling
Shortly after I had been given a room and schedule, I went to find Tom. Honestly, the room alone would have gotten me to join the OC. I wanted to rid myself of my past in every way possible. I have to admit that I regret that decision now. The OC is a great placce. It was interesting. But it was also dangerous. And as strong as the grudge against my family is...I miss them in some weird way.

The residential area of the OC's huge underground labyrinth is surprisingly easy to navigate. Even with mutliple buildings for various classes of residents and no maps whatsoever, it's not hard to find someone who can give you easy directions to whatever or whoever you're looking for. And the buildings are simple in design, which is boring but more functional. All you need is the floor and room number and you can find the place. That's exclusive to the residential district, though.

Two knocks, then a "Come in!" Tom was hunched over a desk, playing with some kind of machine. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Uh...thanks for inviting me. It means a lot."

He spun around in his chair, flipping a lens out of his eye. The lens was attached to a type of headband, although I still don't know how he kept it in place. It wasn't magic; Tom always stuck to mechanics except where they overlapped. Some type of small lever or something, I guess. "So what you skilled with?"

He was referring to the short test we're given before being allowed in. It comes before the soul break, but that's where we choose the direction we want to take in magic. Put simply, we're taught how to cast different types of magic to see which comes easiest. "I'm best with shields, so I'm going with that. Linking as secondary."

Tom chuckled and pointed to a small robot thing next to me. With a flick of his wrist the robot sprung to life and started walking around the room aimlessly, guided by the slight movements of Tom's hand. "Electronic manipulation with telekinesis as secondary. I'm a techie."

"That's not what I would have expected from you." I watched as the robot settled back into its original position.

"Because of the spirit stuff?" I nodded. "I only learned enough of the medium stuff to talk to spirits. I thought it would be helpful. I could have taken it further, but I don't like disturbing that realm too much."

At the time, I thought 'Why wouldn't you want to get stronger?' Tom had the oppurtunity to advance in something, but he chose not to. In this case, it's probably one of the smartest decisions he could have made.



Seasonal
"What's your favorite season?" The girl let go of my hand and spun around, an expectant look in her eyes. She had somehow dragged me into an empty practice room.

I rubbed my chin for a few seconds before responding. "Spring, I guess. I like watching everything come back to life as if nothing had happened. It feels like nature is forgetting the past and starting over, if that makes sense."

"'Kay!" She made a quick wave of her hand and the room started changing. The walls disappeared, revealing a bright blue sky. Grass pushed up and absorbed the floor in its green, then flowers rose up and started blossoming. Targets for practice became trees and benches became bushes. It would have been impossible to know we were still deep underground if the door behind me hadn't stayed.

"What's your name?" I asked, looking around what was now a breezy plain.

"Ariel."

"I've never seen magic like this." I reached down and felt the grass slip between my fingers. Everything about this was perfect - the smells, the sounds, the feeling of the wind and grass. I even wondered whether or not the walls would stop me from walking off into the endless sky. But when I turned around to ask, Ariel was gone. "Hello?"

Only the sound of wind responded. I waited for a few minutes, assuming she'd pop back in. The artificial sun started making me hot, though, so I decided to walk back to the door. My hand grasped the door knob, but curiosity got the best of me and I reached over to where the wall should have been. My hand collided with the cold stone and the entire image blinked out. The room became a boring, dull practice room once again as if the illusion had never existed.


"I think I'm going insane," I told Tom. He chuckled and put down the gear in his hand.

"That's an odd hello," he said, motioning for me to take a seat on his bed. "I'm sure whatever you're talking about would make us all insane, but I guess I should ask why."

I flopped down on his bed and sighed. "A girl who called herself Ariel just dragged me into a practice room, made it into a replica of my favorite season, then vanished. I had no idea magic like that existed. It was so much more than the illusions we have around. It actually felt real. Tom are you...blushing?"

"Oh...uhm...don't mind me," he said, shifting his feet. Whatever he was embarassed about wasn't my business, so I shrugged and waited for him to continue. "If you met the Ariel I think you met, I can assure you you aren't going insane. A few people have met her."

"Who is she, then? I didn't know people could pop in and out of this place like that."

"They can't." I glared at him, which seemed to make him blush harder. "Only certain people can teleport around except for a few rooms that anybody can teleport to. I think it's easiest if I show you something." He stood up and opened the door, letting me out so he could lock his door behind us.


Tom ran a hand over a large piece of slate embedded into a hallway wall. Names were engraved in it...lots of names. "This is -"

"The Memorium." Me and Tom spun around at Rayzack's voice. He was right behind us, reading the large slate. Neither of us heard, saw, or felt him approach. Apparently he was one of the people who could teleport at will, but it was incredibly unusual for him to use magic. "I'm assuming Mark met Ariel?"

"Yeah," Tom said. "She used illusions again, apparently quite advanced by his reaction."

"What is this about?" I was growing impatient with the two of them talking about some insider knowledge.

Rayzack stepped forward and pointed to a particular name. Ariel Winters. "This was made after a certain incident. There are similar plaques around, but this one is the largest in terms of the number of deaths."

Dead. "Ariel is...dead...?"

"She's a spirit, yes. Her body was...destroyed. You'll learn what happened when you're ready, but now the story would only scare you since you're new to magic. If you ever meet Ariel again, just go along with her. Don't bring up her death. Someone made that mistake once and we almost had to add them to this list."

"Holy shit she's dangerous?! Why don't we get rid of her like we do other demons and crap?"

Rayzack sighed heavily. When it was obvious he wasn't going to answer, Tom spoke. "We've tried. She's too powerful." He looked over at Rayzack for a better explanation.

"Sometimes it's best to leave things alone. It is a human assumption that we must make things best suited for ourselves. In some cases, we should simply accept the presence of things we don't like."

"But what if she kills someone? Are you -"

"She could have easily killed many people. She has not. The only person she's harmed provoked her. If you're curious, you can find recordings of the debate in the library. For now I have to get going." With that, Rayzack brushed a hand against the Memorium before walking off. "And you're doing well so far, by the way," he called back.

"Thanks!" Me and Tom read the plaque in silence until Rayzack was out of site. "He's unusually serious today, isn't he?"

"Well..." Tom looked around for a few second before finding words. "This is something he's passionate about and a lot of people ask him about it. He feels guilty for the lives lost. I think I would, too, considering what happened."

"Are you going to tell me what hell happened?" Again, he started blushing.

"I trust Rayzack's decision. You should wait to find out. ...I'd rather not lose you because there are dangerous things here."

I couldn't help but smile. "Well, I need to get to bed. It's been a long day."

"Yeah. Sweet dreams, Mark." I miss having Tom around.