A place for writers to offer creative feedback and post works in progress.


Postby luckyseven » Thu Jul 23, 2015 3:56 am

Hey everyone, first time poster here. This is an idea that I've had rattling around in my head for awhile, and forever reason, I decided to post it here.

Not really much macro content in this post, it should show up in subsequent installments. I haven't done much writing in the past, so any pointers or (constructive) criticism would be appreciated.


Under a cloudless blue sky, a summer sun beat down on the assembled soldiers of the Revolutionary Army. Banners emblazoned with a blue and yellow circle, the symbol of the new nation, flapped in a light breeze.

“Why must we fight? Why must we bleed?” General William asked from atop a great white horse, “Why are we on foreign soil? Is this not invasion?”

Francis's tufted ears swiveled to pick up William's speech, his feline features concentrated. He readjusted the long musket which lay balanced on his shoulder.

“Twoscore and three years ago our nation rejected tyranny. This was not simply tyranny of the body, but of the mind and the soul. The very spirit of the Yarni race was held down, kept in bondage by the machinations of old, corrupt despots, as it had been for a millenia.”

The General's gaze moved to the sky, a wistful look upon his face.

“A few brave visionaries among our nation spoke out against this evil. Many lost their lives. However, the revolution prevailed. After all, we were on the right side of history. Not all revolutionary philosophers were as successful.”

William gestured at the silent, black-clad army that stood across the wide, grassy clearing from the blue-uniformed Revolutionary Army.

“This is why we are in Aragrandia, a nation swathed in the royal purple of oppression. The nobility of the Aragrandian Kingdom have kept their country in darkness. Their clergy have bled the citizenry dry. Their monarch has beat down all resistance to this decadent and despotic system through violence.”

Drawing his cavalry saber with a hiss of steel, he motioned sharply.

“Violence. This is the only thing that the old order understands. This is our only way to talk to them.”

Francis could feel the crowd around him tense up. He settled for scratching his back where the standard issue wool uniform rubbed.

“No, this is no invasion. This is liberation, the first of many. The light of rationalism will spread, and you are a vehicle that will grant the whole globe its bright rays. You will burn through the fog of ignorance. Indeed, your enemies are but a dark cloud passing in front of the sun.”

Cries of agreement started to well up from the crowd.

“Raise your head high! You fight today not only for the people of your nation, but for the people of all nations! You march for the future! You march for what is right! Go, brave Yarni of the Revolution, and rescue the world!”

Above the cheers of the crowd, drummers from behind the main body of the army started up a cadence.

“Forward march!” called out a captain.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

The drums pounding out a marching rhythm punctuated each step that Francis's booted paw took. He stared straight ahead, looking down the barrels of Aragrandian muskets.

“For the revolution,” he whispered to himself.

A sound like rolling thunder washed over Francis and balls of lead flew around him, tearing through most of his unit's first rank.

“Annnnnnd Halt!”

Francis stood still. He found that one of his paws was shaking.

“For the revolution,” he whispered, again.

“First rank, load!” called out the captain.

The few Yarni that remained in the front row began fumbling around with their muskets, trying to recall the various steps in shooting a flintlock firearm. Another series of cracks across the field sent more humming bits of lead through uniformed Revolutionaries.

“First rank, fire!”

Francis flinched at the thunderous roar of musket fire directly in front of him/ His feline ears swiveled inward, trying to avoid the sound as best they could.

“Reform and reload! Second rank, aim!”

Francis moved forward past the retreating rank in front of him and shakily leveled his gun at the soldiers on the other side of the field full of swaying tall grass.

“Second rank, fire!”

Francis squinted and looked away, readying himself for his gun's recoil. He pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

“Second rank, reform and reload! Third rank, aim!”

He hustled to the back of his unit's formation, not looking at what effect his rank's volley had on the . He heard a crack from the Blackcoats' ranks, and a yells of pain from his own soldiers. Still, Francis kept his eyes downcast, looking only at his second-hand boots enclosing his paws and the grass beneath them.

“Third rank fire!”

While the few troops surrounding him started to tear off the ends of paper cartridges containing powder, Francis held his musket upside down and attempted to shake it out.

“Misfire,” mumbled Francis.

More fire from the Aragrandians rang out; more screams of pain the Revolutionaries.

“Third rank, reform and reload! First rank, aim!”

Francis started to pound on the side of his weapon.

“First rank, -AAGH!”

The captain’s final scream sent what remained of Francis's unit into a mad route.

“C'mon,” whispered Francis, giving the musket one final strike. He was rewarded with loud bang and a sharp pain in his foot. He toppled over, a new hole in his boot. From the Aragrandian side, he thought he heard “affix bayonets,” and “finish off the wounded,” but something far more pressing was on his mind. Emerging from the woods was an enormous raccoon-like creature, which was, weirdly enough, bipedal. The beast was almost as tall as the trees themselves, naked except for a small, ragged loincloth, and apparently male.

Cries of shock rang out from the Aragrandian soldiery. The creature grinned and descended upon them. Francis blinked, feeling equal parts horror and confusion at the scene unfolding before him. He pushed himself up, then immediately fell back down, the pain in his footpaw pulling him into blissful unconsciousness.


Mira stretched and yawned, her sharp teeth glistening in the room's artificial lighting. Twisting her neck elicited a multitude of cracks, each one a small relief. She readjusted her standard-issue jumpsuit, turned her head back to the screen in front of her and-

“Hey. Hey. Hey hey hey hey hey-”

Mira glanced over at the shorter and more rotund Ternan, Anastasia, sitting at a terminal on the other side of the small room that the two raccoon-like Hershivs.


“Check this fucking thing out.” Anastasia pointed at the screen in front of her, “This friend of mine posted a video where there's this guy who eats like ten whole burgers in less than a minute. Well,” she checked a corner of the screen, “closer to a minute and five seconds.”

“I don't care.” Mira turned back to her own monitor.

Anastasia rolled her eyes. “You know, this job can be fun if you're not a huge stuck-up bitch the whole time. We're stuck out here for another three months.”

“If your idea of fun is pointless consumption, then yes.”

“You know,” Anastasia rolled her chair over to Mira, “I hear you talk shit about how others spend their time, but all I ever see you do is reading.”

Mira cast a brief look towards her partner. “It's called learning. Instead of watching that,” she waved at the other monitor, “garbage, I choose to expand my mind.”

Anastasia held her arms up in mock surrender. “Sure. Fun is for losers.”

“I am enjoying reading this book. It's about the development of social organization, and how we as a society are-”

“Here's where I say that I don't care.” Anastasia stood from her chair, leaving it to spin without her weight, and lifted her arms over her head, stretching, “I'm off to the kitchen. Want something?”

“Will you bring me coffee?”

“Sure thing, sugartits,” Anastasia walked out of the room, the automatic door making only a small woosh as it opened and closed. Finally alone, Mira turned her attention to the digital page in front of her and-”


Reflexively, Mira pulled up technical reports on her screen and smoothed out her uniform.


After the tenth beep, an entire wall, the one opposite the door, lit up, projecting as a screen. A serious-looking yet unfamiliar Hershiv glared down at Mira. Still, Mira could tell that she was a higher-up in the company because of her tailored garb. You couldn't afford that on the wages they paid Mira.

“Ma'am?” Mira stood up, paws behind her back and tail rigidly parallel with the rest of her body.

“-hear me?” asked the distorted picture. It looked like some of the pixels making up the company official were trying to jump out of the screen.

“I'm sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I...regulation...relocation of prisoners...corporate policy...want you code. This is a huge liability!”

“I think that a text transcript would be better. I'm not understanding.”

“...can't afford to leave paper trail...over a secure connection...can't get back to understand?”

“No, ma'am.”

The fuzzy and malformed picture appeared to grin.

“Excellent...heard you were a reliable employee! You...count on a promotion when you get back! Can't...never speak of this to anyone.”


The monitor had already cut out. Mira stood blinking in the suddenly darker room.

A slight woosh came from behind as Anastasia returned.

“Got your coffee. Black and bitter, just how you like it.”
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Re: Constitution

Postby gadabout » Fri Jul 24, 2015 2:08 am

Well first off let me just go ahead and say welcome to the site! We could use more writers :D

Now then... an interesting peice you got here, still not too sure whats going on here, but a man who shoots himself in the foot is always hilarious :D
do continue it so that we may learn more of this world you built up here, I really would like to see more.


you got a sizeable chunk of errors here, a few missing words and a few misspelled ones, I say the best way to iron those out is to proof read your work once or twice and you should be good to go on that front.

None the less, a great first post, keep em coming >:I
RIP Baggy52.

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Re: Constitution

Postby TendoTwo » Wed Sep 23, 2015 6:53 am

Well, this setting certainly caught my attention. Very curious now how this all ties together.

Also, while I am usually not one to mention errors:
He hustled to the back of his unit's formation, not looking at what effect his rank's volley had on the .

Gasp! On the what? I must know! :lol:
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Re: Constitution

Postby RaddaRaem » Tue Oct 06, 2015 2:21 am

I'll reiterate what's been spoken before, a solid if not somewhat mysterious start! How such two divergent settings can intersect with one another will be interesting to see pan out.
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