Geceden çıkıp şimdi gündüze dönmek buna da şükür :)
Geceden çıkıp şimdi gündüze dönmek buna da şükür :)
Writing has been a part of me for as long as I can remember.
Elementary and Middle School is where I discovered my love for creative writing in particular. Overall, I think I can say I write pretty well. It's always been my strongest asset in school, whether it be essays, written assignments, etc. I can say that creative story telling was not really the main focus of English curriculum, unfortunately.
Of course, I did not let that limit me.
My preteen years were spent on forums and websites dedicated to - I admit, fanfiction and original stories. I spent all plenty of my free time indulging myself in these stories and groups where individuals like myself would create original characters, having them interact in turn based posts to create a story in real time. Although the internet is dangerous in many aspects, I'm thankful I met/interacted with people who were kind, helpful, and had fun with writing. I learned a lot when it came to story development, character development, etc. Although most were fun interactions between a self-insert character and canon/official character from media I enjoyed, it was still so much fun creating new narrative in either an already existing universe or new one all together. So, for this post I'll be posting a short story/original narrative. The main purpose is to demonstrate the basic element of plot - a situation (A) undergoing some change, which then leads to another situation (B). This is a fun assignment I look forward to doing to challenge myself, will be creating on the spot. Overall, I hope you enjoy!
Prompt: You're the hero waltzing with the villain, realizing they were right all along
She scanned the room before her, watching hundreds of nobles dance before her in lavish gowns and suits. It was unexpected, to say the least, that her father would plan such a regal and extravagant event, especially soon after the untimely death of her mother. Granted, it had been 3 months since the gruesome murder but nevertheless, it seemed off. Her father had been distant, not that they were incredibly close to begin with, but even more so since his wife's death. This could be his way of coping, as it was supposedly in her late mother's honor.
It still felt... off, however.
She began to walk amongst the others, nodding politely to those that gave curtsey's and bows in her direction. This came to no surprise, however. Besides being the King's daughter, it was revealed that her mother's inheritance had been left to her, much to everyone's surprise. Although her fathered had married into royalty, it was assumed it would go to him. With this in mind, she gained more respect, although it was merely just a status to her.
She continued her rounds, watching those dance around her as she tried to make her way towards the balcony. She had been asked previously to dance by interested suitors, although none seem too genuine. Hoping to romance their way into the family in order to have access to some of her now abundant inheritance. How annoying, she thought to herself. Regardless, she continued to deny interested parties, trying to make her way outside when suddenly -
"May I have this dance?"
"Sorry," she began, turning to face what she expected to be yet another gold digging suiter. "But I really just need some fresh air-"
She froze as her eyes laid upon him, realizing who it was she was facing. She looked around frantically, trying to gain the attention of a guard, her father, anyone really. Before she could speak, he grabbed her wrist and began the intricate waltz routine.
They danced around the ballroom, the other guests unfazed by the pair. She, however, felt fear creep up her spine as the man held her close.
"Thought I'd ask the most beautiful lady in the room for a dance," He said smoothly.
"Y-You.." She stuttered, gritting her teeth together as she tried to appear unfazed. Her heart, however, was pounding. "What are you doing here? How did you get in here? Surely someone must have recognized you-"
He chuckled, placing his left hand on the small of her back, just low enough to make her breath hitch and any other words die in her throat. Silence.
"All unimportant questions and concerns, my dear," He said, smirking. Despite the conversation, his eyes had never left hers, his feet still managing to execute the steps perfectly. The look in his eye changed, however, as he spoke again. "Call for help, however, and I'm afraid I'll have to cause a scene." He smiled again, demeanor changing as he held her close. "Now then, where were we?"
She couldn't speak, helpless in this situation - what other choice did she have, being swept away by a notorious, wanted assassin? Never caught, always slipping away before facing judgement, the man before her was infamous. That being said - how the hell did he end up here, with no one recognizing him? Perhaps this was his talent, and how he got away with numerous murders.
Still, how was she going to get out of this?
His head lowered as he spun her, breath hot as it grazed her ear. She couldn't help but shudder, hearing his gravely voice in her ear. It sent her heart racing, albeit for another reason. His next few words however, changed her world.
"Your father wants you dead."
Eyes widening, she pulled back slightly to look at him, opening her mouth to speak but he shut her up with a kiss, their faces hidden to onlookers. She was taken aback, her mind wanting to shove him away and scream for help. That's what her mind was telling her to do, anyhow.
Yet, her body kept them close.
He pulled away slowly, his eyes gazing into hers. She stared back curiously, trying to read his expression. It was hard to calculate his intentions and his sincerity - how could she read the mind of a murderer, anyhow?
He spun her around again, making their way towards the corner of the room. He leaned to speak into her ear again, quickly explaining.
"You have to trust me. There have been orders not to let you leave this room alive. I was -" He hesitated before continuing. "-originally part of this plot, as are the rest of the guards in this room. Which answers your question as to how I entered without trouble, yes?"
She said nothing, still in complete shock as she slowly nodded yes. Thoughts swarmed her head as she tried to rationalize what he was saying, trying to think of any logical reason as to how this could be true. This was crazy! how could she believe the words of a killer? Why would her father-
Slowly, the wheels in her mind began to turn as she faced the reality of her situation. Tears welled in her eyes at the sudden betrayal, pain she was feeling in her heart. It made sense - the suspicious timing of this very ball, the increasing distance between her and her father, and the very plot would be a very rational answer as to how her sudden dance partner entered such an exclusive and protected event. Or so she thought.
"Hey now," He said softly, wiping tears from her eyes. "No tears. "
"My father is a very determined man, you know," She croaked, the tears continuing to fall. "If he wants me dead-"
He suddenly held her face in his hands, the room and its inhabitant slowly disappearing. It was just the two of them. "I will kill every last person in this ballroom while letting your father watch, and then I’ll kill him too. No one will ever hurt you.” He paused. “Ever.”
Somehow, his words were comforting. Although she could not think of a reason for his change of heart, his sudden devotion and protective nature for her, she couldn't ignore that this man wanted to help her.
Taking a deep breath, she looked at him determined. He said nothing, reading her expression in the same way she did to him. Seeming to understand, he nodded, slipping a dagger into her small hand.
"On my mark. We'll both make it out of here alive. And then we plot. Are you ready?"
They both stood still at this moment, catching the attention of the guards and her father. Realizing their plot was to be discovered any moment, he spoke.
"On my mark."
Half the trouble in life
is caused by
pretending there isn't any.
- Edith Wharton
Plate 26: Cerialis Pardons and Relieves Roman Soldiers who had Helped Civilis by Antonio Tempesta & Otto van Veen 1611, from The War of the Romans Against the Batavians (Romanorvm et Batavorvm societas). 6 3/8 × 8 1/8 in. (16.2 × 20.7 cm). Current location: MET Museum. Antonio Tempesta in collaboration with Otto van Veen published in 1612 in Antwerp a series of thirty-six etchings on the Batavians and the Romans in a book entitled Batavorum cum Romanis bellum.
"On the next day Cerialis entered the colony of the Treviri. His soldiers were eager to plunder the town and said "This is Classicus's native city, and Tutor's as well; they are the men whose treason has caused our legions to be besieged and massacred. What monstrous crime had Cremona committed? Yet Cremona was torn from the very bosom of Italy because she delayed the victors one single night. This colony stands on the boundaries of Germany, unharmed, and rejoices in the spoils taken from our armies and in the murder of our commanders. The booty may go to the imperial treasury: it is enough for us to set fire to this rebellious colony and to destroy it, for in that way we can compensate for the destruction of so many of our camps." Cerialis feared the disgrace that he would suffer if men were to believe that he imbued his troops with a spirit of licence and cruelty, and he therefore checked their passionate anger: and they obeyed him, for now that they had given up civil war, they were more moderate with reference to foreign foes. Their attention was then attracted by the sad aspect which the legions summoned from among the Mediomatrici presented. These troops stood there, downcast by the consciousness of their own guilt, their eyes fixed on the ground: when the armies met, there was no exchange of greetings; the soldiers made no answer to those who tried to console or to encourage them; they remained hidden in their tents and avoided the very light of day. It was not so much danger and fear as a sense of their shame and disgrace that paralyzed them, while even the victors were struck dumb. The latter did not dare to speak or make entreaty, but by their tears and silence they continued to ask forgiveness for their fellows, until Cerialis at last quieted them by saying that fate was responsible for all that had resulted from the differences between the soldiers and their commanders or from the treachery of their enemies. He urged them to consider this as the first day of their service and of their allegiance, and he declared that neither the emperor nor he remembered their former misdeeds. Then they were taken into the same camp with the rest, and a proclamation was read in each company forbidding any soldier in quarrel or dispute to taunt a comrade with treason or murder." -Tacitus, The Histories: Book 4, Chapter 72
Plate 25: The Roman Commander Cerialis Attacks Near Trier by Antonio Tempesta & Otto van Veen 1611, from The War of the Romans Against the Batavians (Romanorvm et Batavorvm societas). 6 3/8 × 8 1/8 in. (16.2 × 20.6 cm). Current location: MET Museum. Antonio Tempesta in collaboration with Otto van Veen published in 1612 in Antwerp a series of thirty-six etchings on the Batavians and the Romans in a book entitled Batavorum cum Romanis bellum.
"This was the state of war when Petilius Cerialis reached Mainz. His arrival aroused great hopes; Cerialis was himself eager for battle and better fitted by nature to despise a foe than to guard against him; he fired his soldiers by his fierce words, declaring that he would not delay a moment when he had a chance to engage the enemy. The troops that had been levied throughout Gaul he sent back to their several states, and told them to report that the legions were sufficient to sustain the empire: the allies were to return to their peaceful duties without any anxiety, since, when the Roman arms once undertook a war, that war was virtually ended. This act increased the ready submission of the Gauls; for now that they had recovered their young men they bore the burdens of the tribute more easily, and they were more ready to be obedient when they saw that they were despised." - Tacitus, The Histories: Book 4, Chapter 71
Plate 24: The Advance Guard of the New Roman Troops Turned Back by Antonio Tempesta & Otto van Veen 1611, from The War of the Romans Against the Batavians (Romanorvm et Batavorvm societas). 6 5/16 × 8 1/16 in. (16.1 × 20.5 cm). Current location: MET Museum. Antonio Tempesta in collaboration with Otto van Veen published in 1612 in Antwerp a series of thirty-six etchings on the Batavians and the Romans in a book entitled Batavorum cum Romanis bellum.
"The result was that neither the Treviri nor the Lingones nor the other rebellious people made efforts at all proportionate to the gravity of the crisis; not even the leaders consulted together, but Civilis ranged the pathless wilds of Belgium in his efforts to capture Claudius Labeo or to drive him out of the country, while Classicus spent most of his time in indolent ease, enjoying his supreme power as if it were already secured; even Tutor made no haste to occupy with troops the Upper Rhine and the passes of the Alps. In the meantime the Twenty-first legion penetrated by way of Vindonissa and Sextilius Felix entered through Raetia with some auxiliary infantry; these troops were joined by the squadron of picked horse that had originally been formed by Vitellius but which had later gone over to Vespasian's side. These were commanded by Julius Briganticus, the son of a sister of Civilis, who was hated by his uncle and who hated his uncle in turn with all the bitter hatred that frequently exists between the closest relatives. Tutor first added to the Treviran troops a fresh levy of Vangiones, Caeracates, and Triboci, and then reinforced these with veteran foot and horse, drawn from the legionaries whom he had either corrupted by hope or overcome with fear; these forces first massacred a cohort despatched in advance by Sextilius Felix; then, when the Roman generals and armies began to draw near, they returned to their allegiance by an honourable desertion, followed by the Triboci, Vangiones, and Caeracates." -Tacitus, The Histories: Book 4, Chapter 70
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