The Way of the Imp: Pip's Monastery [Training]

It sits on a mountain, shrouded in dense white mist. The temple seems as if it were spit from the very rock on which it sits; a single spire stabs the sky to the left of the topless dome (the dome itself looks as if the fist of God was once thrown down here, and the jagged edge of the wall curves to suggest this was once a whole; inside the fragments of the ceiling are scattered about, on which can be discerned the idea of a mural, and a Goddess with sad eyes), both built of rough-hewn stone and covered in creeping vines which bloom bright red flowers of succulent scent. Surrounded by trees and the dark shadows between, there is light - it does not flicker flickle like candles, but glows with steady, calm intensity.

Inside the great wooden doors, the mist has trickled in the open roof and clings to the spaces between the stones, the curls of vine, the cups of flowers. The floor is cobbled and vast - much more so than the outside suggests. Along the curved wall runs a row of door; but it is hard to get a count on them, for when you start you find yourself suddenly lost, never quite returning to the first (once an arrogant man painted a red stripe on the first door, thinking he was clever, and after weeks of counting was finally led to the inner garden where he lived out his days mumbling numbers from a drooling, twisted mouth).

In the center of the arena sits a diminutive black figure with long ears and a swishing tail. His short legs are cross over each other in full lotus, and his hands are folded together in prayer.

"Welcome," says the strange creature without moving. The voice compells succour from any who hear it; it says Peace, friend, lay your troubles at the door.

"You are here to learn. But what you learn is your choice. I shall teach technique, if you ask, offer advice, should you want it, guide skill, if it be requested. I shall set the stage for battle when you are ready, and those of you who are worthy, shall pass. Remember that you determine your own worth; in the hands of Purpose, everything is possible."

***

This is my training school. What I hope to do is strengthen the level of sophistication that already exists within the battlers, and give advice on writing techniques that are successful both for the arena, and for writing in general.

Sign-up begins today. We'll start as soon as we have an interested party - once you declare that you want to be a member of the Monastery and learn the Way of the Imp, please post your character bio and we'll work from there.

Enrollment:
Fireball [graduated]
SearanoX [in training]
Bobslob
dekuaxelmage
DivineDragoon

NOTE: ENROLLMENT IS TEMPORARILY CLOSED TO MAKE SURE THAT THE PEOPLE WHO'VE ALREADY SIGNED UP ACTUALLY GET THEIR TRAINING.

I wish to learn the ways of the imp.

******
A young warrior that had entered through the doors had made his way to the master of this place. He sits in front of the Mystrious Imp. His face is eager with anticipation and a willingness to learn.
"Hello again," he says, "Do you remember me?"
Pip nods and comments "However I never did catch your name last time we meet?"
"It's Fireball," the youth replies, "I had heard that you had started a school."
Pip nodded. Fireball continues, "It shall be a honour to call you master." The young flame weilder now waits patiently for his training in the ways of the imp to begin.


*******
Name:Fireball
Age:19
Race:Human
Sex:Male
Hairrown
Eyes:Green
Weight:100kilograms
Height:180

Weapon: Criket Bat, Also can peform flame attacks from any video game he has played. If runs low on energy cannot peform attacks until he consumes a vast amount of TIM TAMS. He can project flame from any part of his body.
Armor: Blue guanlets that have triforce symbols on them.

Personality:Fairly easy going with a strong feeling of resposibility

Apperance:Wearing blue cargo pants a red shirt dunlop volleys, a kind of shoe, he appears fairly average with fair skin.

Bio:Fireball discovered he had his control of flame last year when he was complete bored one afternoon. He discovered that his brothers had also obtained powers. They formed team triforce and had many adventures. It was later revealed that they had obtained their powers through playing Zelda a real lot on their old T.V. that gave out a lot of low level raidation. Fireball's power corresponds with the goddess din and the triforce element of power. He however refuse to join the din clan because he believes that only with the help of those with wisdom and courage can obstacles be overcome. This was proved to him last easter when a group of malevolent aliens tried to use him to bring about armeggedon. Along with the help of his brothers fivefifthteen and the Sleeping Aardvark was he able to overcome the Alien's Mind control device. Yes he can fly by directing fire down his legs. He hopes to have many more adventures.
Rank
Overall Rank:III
Strength:II
Speed:II
Magic: IV
Skill:III

Pip regards the young hot-head before him with a slight smirk on his lips.

"You are a good fighter. I did not expect one with experience to trot through my door, but very well. I enjoy a challenge."

And he drops a wink.

***

We'll start with your bio. Fireball is kind of a happy-go-lucky, sitcomy type guy. A lot of fighters seem to take themselves really seriously, and what I appreciate most about Fireball is that he seems to have a sense of humour - which, in the fight we had, you incorporated nicely. So that's all good. Remember, you know the character as well as he can be known, so it's up to you to keep him consistent. If you begin a fight with one of the serious-types, make sure you remain true to the spirit of Fireball. Imagine him as a living, breathing person - imagine asking him to do those things you have him do. Would he truely say yes? (None of which is to say you don't do these things already, but I want you to be thinking of Fireball as an actual person - it gives him weight and reality for the reader, even though he has some pretty unreal powers.)

Now, your homework.

***

You find yourself suddenly transported to a room busy with passing bodies, cocktails held high; laugher and applause echo off the walls. It is, from what you can discern, a swanky cocktail party. Fat men in suits and portly ladies dressed in fur stoles and silk dresses; gaudy rings throwing spikes of light on the walls. You are the youngest person here, and only one wearing sneakers.

A snooty old dame scuttles up to you - her drink sloshes onto the front of shirt, soaking it to the skin.

"Who are you, little boy? Where are your parents?"

She turns to crowd and calls out. "Anyone know who this belongs to?" You find yourself abashed when you realize she is pointed at you.

The boisterous group quiets, and a voice pipes up. "He's mine, Audrey." You see the smiling face of your mother peek between the shoulder of two tall gentlemen.

The old biddy moves on, but there are too many people between you and your mother for you to reach her. You remember something she mentioned over dinner last night - about an important cocktail party she was supposed to attend, where her very future will be decided. Nothing can go wrong.

A doddering old man walks up to you and hands you a phone.

"Fireball!" The voice on the other end in none other than you comrade and brother fivefifthteen. "You have to hurry! Mom's in danger; she's about to be killed!"

You drop the phone and scan the crowd. Sure enough, there is a seedly looking gentleman leaning in the doorway, about three feet from where your mother is smiling.

***

So it's a fairly mediocre scene, but I want to see what Fireball would do in this situation. A party full of rich old snobs. You need to protect your mother from this man without making a scene. Bear in mind this is the just situation, and write out what you think Fireball would do. Don't wreck yourself - just a short narrative passage.

Important BA tip: NEVER EVER 'BLOCK' YOUR OPPONENT. Which means if your opponent says, "The sky is blue," do not turn around and say, "The sky is green." Take whatever you are given to work with and use it to the best of your advantage. Too many times I've begun fights where I set the situation up, and, for example, a NCP leaves the scene - and low, in the post from my opponent, she is still there. Read carefully what situation others put you in and go from there.

Without making a scene. Okay I've got just the thing.

*****
Fireball laments at the fact there was a crowd of elderly overweight women inbetween him and his mum. The young man finds a place were the throng of guests thins out a little, however it is still to thick to get through. He remember that the bathroom facilities were in that direction from when he asked upon his arrival at the party. He taps one party guest on the shoulder. "Excuse me Miss," Fireball always found it best to talk to women as if they were younger to aviod being slapped in the face, "I need to get past so that I can go to Porcelain throne"
The women just stares and replies with a loud "What?"
Fireball then jumps from leg to leg while holding his crotch.
"I need to get past to go to the toliet," he says in a soft voice.

The women steps aside not realising that his bodily function plight is just a ruse to get to that guy by the doorway. Finally Fireball now stands beside the potential killer. As a waiter walks by he grabs four cocktails off the tray and pours them over the man, who had just begun to walk over to Fireballs mother. The young hero then manages to trip the prospective murderer and place the empty glasses on another passing tray at the same time. The man gets up and looks at Fireball, "You've got some nerve...." fireball cuts him off mid-setence by pulling up another passing waiter, "Excuse me sir but this man is very drunk."
The waiter leans over and smells the alcohol on the man.
Fireball continued, "I think he may need to go outside to get some fresh air."
The waiter nods in agreement and talks into the headset radio that was being used by the catering and security staff to co-ordinate their efforts. Soon the security guard that was cheking invitations at the door earlier is helping the man to the door. Of course the man protested with comments about how he was not drunk and that it was the kid that made him fall over.

Fireball decides to finish the guy off. He follows one of the waiters to the kitchen door. There is an exit to the side of the building opposite to it. Fireball runs to the family car and uses his keys, he had finally convinced his mum that he should be the designated driver that after noon. He pulls his beloved criket bat of the back seat. He then notices the thwarted killer coming around to try and sneak in the side entrance. Fireball runs through the shadows and reachs it before the man who is walking at a casual pace, probably to aviod suspicion. As the man grows comfortable he quickens the pace. However he fails to notice fireball concealed behind a drain pipe. At the last moment the young warrior sticks out the bat, clothes lining the the man. Fireball is satisfied for unconscious men have not been know to kill many people, except darwin award recipients.

Fireball threw his criket bat into the bushes incase and staff came to investigate the noise. He checks the man for weapons. He uncovers one, a knife of illegal design. He places the knife in the man's hand and then goes and informs the staff that a druken party guest had just tried to attack him outside. They call the police and the cops come and go without the party goers noticing. Because Fireball had gone inside for five minutes, while waiting for them to arrive, and turned up the music.
*****

How was that?

The music fades - as does the party. People melt into mist. The carpet under your feet is replaced by hard, smooth stone, and before in the temple sits the imp.

"Very good, very good. You executed yourself admirably. Your hands are firmly on the reigns of your destiny."

***

Perfect. Very well done. The whole bit - the washroom fake, the villifying of our Stranger; cunning and convincing, and totally in line with who Fireball is. What this shows is that you don't betray the core of your character, regardless of the situation. Top marks.

And nice job on the addition of the 'security staff.' I didn't say anything about it - specifically, I didn't say there wasn't one, and you took that to your advantage. Learning to use what your opponent doesn't say is just as important as using what they do.

Now, for step two. It'll be brief, but it's none-the-less one of the most important (and least appreciated) aspects of writing.

***

"I expect success, Fireball - do not disappoint me."

The imp gestures with his hand, and out of nothing bloom three objects; a coat, a knife and a rotten orange. They lay at your feet spaced evenly apart.

"Tell me what you see."

***

What I'm looking for is your ability to describe objects. It's a balance; you need just enough interesting detail to suggest a picture to your audience, but not so much that you overwhelm the reader with your vision of what each piece looks like. Bear that in mind, and go ahead.

If you don't mind, pipking, I'd like to enroll in your school sometime. I don't really know if I need the training, but considering that you have more experience in writing, and I always like to improve at things that I'm good at.

Of course, if you don't feel like taking more than one person at a time, then I understand.

As Fireball sets about his task, Pip nips into the tower. He sits at his scarred wooden desk and takes a quill from the inkpot.

He writes:

Dear Seeker of Truth,

I am delighted about your interest in learning the Way of the Imp. Unfortunately, because of the nature of training, I am unable to accept more than one applicant at a time. But fear not! My current pupil will soon be through his training, at which time I shall expect to see you on my mountain, ready to learn.

Regards,
Pip the Imp

***

I'd like to keep it one at a time, for a while. If anyone else is interested, PM me and I'll set up a list in my first post; when the person before you is done, then its your turn.

Seeker of Truth? You been reading Terry Goodkind again, pip? :p Heh, awesome series, though. Actually where I get most of my inspiration and writing skills from, though I haven't read the latest book.

Anyway, it's perfectly fine that you only want to take in one at a time. I can wait...I can...wait...

*goes insane*

Knife first.

*****
There is a small balde, it glints silver in the light. This knife is not unused. Small Blood stains that were unable to be wiped clean betray the purpose of such an object. It appears as though the knife would not only cut through butter but spam thats still in the can as well.
*****

Now the coat.

*****
An ordinary brown coat, yet it looks slightly longer then normal. Perhaps tailor made for taller person. This coat would look good if worn with a scarf of some kind. Yes a person trudging through, or having a snow ball fight in, the winter snow would wear a coat such as this.

*****

The rotting orange

*****
The skin of the orange is progressing towards the brown of compost. A piece of skin has fallen off at one section. A closer look reveals the fruits of the fruit fly mating ritual. The entire orange just makes a person want to go ewwww...
*****
At this point pip returns from writing his letter to a prospective student. Fireball points at the orange and says, "A biological weapon."
*****
That was enjoyable.

Pip hastily scurries back to his mat at the center of the arena.

"Excellent again, my son. You are learning fast."

***

Good. I especially like the nature of the details - not purely physical attributes of the things themselves, but really evocative similes. I, as a reader, see your objects clearly, but still have ample room to imagine them for myself. Again, top marks.

***

"And now for the third stage. In which demonstrate your ability to play fair."

***

Write a battle - do your intro and set the tone, which can be whatever you wish, and invent a villain for Fireball to fight against. Not some dope, but someone of power, strength and agility. In this battle you must fight true...
...but you also must lose.

Okay the battle is entitled "Child of the Mind"
*****
It was another enjoyable evening for Fireball. The rain was coming down in buckets and he had settled in for a game of time splitters 2, after making the obligatory comment about the rain being good for the the farmers that surrounded the town. Fireball loads his favourite custom map, which he designed specifically for capture the bag, with the maximum amount of bots. All on the other team of course. About half way in to the game lighting and thunder begins. The noise of the thunder shocks Fireball out of his game trance and back into the real world. He pauses the game and flicks through the television channels. The Special Broadcasting service and the Australian broadcasting corporation, or the SBS and the ABC, were down. Not even the usual test signals were getting through. The commercial stations were not doing much better. Every time the lighting flashed the images were replaced by static.

Although Fireball had recently purchased a new power board, with extra surge protection, he was not about to take any chances. After all he always remembered the story he was told about a vcr exploding during a storm because it was still plugged in, and the idea of that happeing to his cube frightened him. Quickly returning to the game, he selects quit from the pause menu and returns to title screen with haste. He then quickly touches the cubes power switch while holding the powerboards connection to the wall socket. As soon as the screen is black, because it is not recieving any signals from the cube, Fireball rips out the plug. Flash, crack, just in time. That last bolt of lighting had hit the creek that was just a few streets away.

His cube safe the young man then proceeds to unplug everthing else, even the fridge and frezzer. That done he realises that he had to switch of the power point that the power board had been plugged into. As he presses the switch another bolt of lighting strikes. This time it struck Fireball's house. The powerful surge lances down the wiring to the power point fireball is touching. His body twists like an insect caught in a bug zapper and he is thrown across the room. He blacks out for about three minutes.

When he comes to he notices a young woman standing over him. Her clothes suggest snowboard, however a snowboarder would not have two revollers sitting in a gun belt around their waist. Nor a sawn off shoutgun aimed directly at Fireball's family jewels. The young man recognises her, it is the trade mark gray beanie that gives it away, but she should not exist in this world.
"Is that you Beanie?" he asks.
"Yes," she replies, "But that is The Beanie to you, Dad."
The Beanie is the name that Fireball gave to his ever urge to run amock with semi automatic weapons, blast things with shoutguns, blow stuff up and finally his desire to be in old style shoot outs. It took female form when Fireball first started playing good old perfect dark.

The Beanie pulls the trigger of the sawn off. Flame springs from Fireball's feet and send him backwards along the floor. The what would have been a life altering shot harmlessly hits the floor. It makes a mess of the carpet though and fireball thinks to himself, "Mum's going to kill me." He gets up and faces the Beanie. "What was that for?" he asks.
The beanie smirks and says, "I'm sick of you running my life Dad. I want to do more then be a character for FPS multiplayers."
She placed her shotgun in a a specially designed holster on her back. The Beanie then pulls out her revolvers and begins firing Fireball amasses a ball of flame in his hand and releases it in towards and oncoming bullet. The bullet melts in the air and falls to the ground. The ball of flame continues and strikes the beanie on her left hand, it causes her to drop one of her guns. She continues firing with the other one. Fireball leaps out the window and hits the ground hard. He feels pain in his left arm, it might be broken, thats what you get for leaping out of the window of a house of the queenslander design. He manages to stand and he realizes that the Beanie has leapt out after him. Fireball tries to encase his fists in the flame that was gifted to him. It doesn't work the pelting rain has made him to wet. He must fight with out the aid of his powers. He grabs his cricket bat that he had left on the front lawn after playing criket with his brothers that afternoon. He swings the bat and the Beanie yells "Wacky Swat." Her hand had broke it in half. Fireball tries to punch her but she grabs his hand and presses her remaining revolver against his belly.

"Just one thing," Fireball begins to ask," How did you get to this world from the parasitic universe in which you reside?"
"You know how it is with interdimensional travel and people with super powers dad," she replied. Fireball nodded. The beanie pulled the trigger and left Fireball there to die. As he lay there on the wet ground he cursed the existance of teen angst and anger. Luckily before Fireball's injures became untreatable the neighbour arrived home and helped him get medical attention.
*****
Is this good enough?

[fireball - I'm going to be away tomorrow - I'll edit in my response then - sorry for the delay - you're doing great so far, but since this is the first sustained passage I have to work with, we can now get into the nitty-gritty.]

*sits down and listens*

One must listen by quieting all other aspects of life to hear truth. (God did give us two ears.)

I come as a listener, as a battler, as a learner and as a friend. Teach me your ways and in the end, perhaps we will learn from each other.

Ooooh a mat? I'll have tons of fun on that. Jigoro Kano practiced in a Buddist temple for a while, so if those mats are good enough for his Judo, they can certaintly nourish mine. *starts warm up exercises*

Hehe, ok pip, notify me when you have cycled past your other students and my turn has come up.

I have have been gone a week and the master as still not replied. I suppose I must still be patient.

Hello Pip. I just recently resigned from my old school. I did so because all the other students disapeared and only one of the teachers was still there. I see your training is very well made. I realize your schedule is filling up, but fit me in after Bobslob, if you will. I hope to summoned to your mountain soon. Here is the I wish to enroll.
Name: Axel
Age:11
Race:deku
Sex[/b[male
[b]Hair:leaves
Eyes:green
Wieght:40 pounds
Hieght: 3 feet
Weapon: a short metal rod with a green jewel
Armor:

Personality: easygoing but very sensitive about being insulted. he can get ticked off really easy, but is generally very nice.
Apperance: sorry no picture. so the best i can do is explain him. he is like a deku guard from majoras mask with strange green markings on his body and a green loin cloth.
Bio: Axel began his life as a normal deku scrub. He lived so far in the lost woods, no humans even knew it went that far. When he was 5, other deku scrubs began teasing him. Eventually he got fed up with them and entered the world. But there, no one respected him because he was a small 7 year old deku scrub. He got mad with the world and soon had an idea. He would fight the most powerful warriors and make a good name for deku scrubs everywhere and then other deku scrubs wouldn’t insult him. He then found a relic to farore and called upon her. She did not come, but gave him mysterious green markings. For 4 years he trained in magic and became a master deku scrub mage. At age 11, he set out into the world to show the world what he had become.

The hall is quiet. Pupils sit in expectent contemplation, not quite reaching the state of peace and stillness they want - the Master has been gone on errands quite a long time.

Just as hope is waning, a cloud forms just above the cobblestones in the centre of the ring. Fireball raises his head and smiles as he watches the mist thicken, begin to take a familiar shape.

Pip says, "Sorry about that. Things to do, you know?" He throws Fireball a wink. Then he turns his small, sharp face to the newcomers.

"You will all be accepted momentarily. I apologize for the delay. But first, I must take care of he who came first."

And his eyes, not longer winking, focus on Fireball.

***

Here's your first paragraph:

It was another enjoyable evening for Fireball. The rain was coming down in buckets and he had settled in for a game of time splitters 2, after making the obligatory comment about the rain being good for the the farmers that surrounded the town. Fireball loads his favourite custom map, which he designed specifically for capture the bag, with the maximum amount of bots. All on the other team of course. About half way in to the game lighting and thunder begins. The noise of the thunder shocks Fireball out of his game trance and back into the real world. He pauses the game and flicks through the television channels. The Special Broadcasting service and the Australian broadcasting corporation, or the SBS and the ABC, were down. Not even the usual test signals were getting through. The commercial stations were not doing much better. Every time the lighting flashed the images were replaced by static.

And here's my edit:

It is another enjoyable evening for Fireball. The rain came down in buckets, and he settles in for a game of time splitters 2 after making the obligatory comment about the rain being good for the the farmers that surrounded the town. Fireball loads his favourite custom map, which he designed specifically for capture the bag with the maximum amount of bots; all on the other team of course. Mid-way through the game the storm really takes off. Booming thunder shocks Fireball out of his game-trance and back to reality. He pauses the game and flicks through the television channels. The Special Broadcasting service and the Australian broadcasting corporation, or the SBS and the ABC, are down. Not even the usual test signals are getting through. The commercial stations are not doing much better. Every time lightning flares the images are replaced by static.

***

One thing you want to be very careful of - don't shift tenses. Pick either past or present, or use a combination of the two for different purposes. When I write the narrative bit of a battle, I use third-person past-tense. If I'm attacking with some strange spell, I switch to second-person present-tense - this pulls my opponent into the story, giving them something concrete to work with. But each person has their own way - if yours is to remain in present tense, be careful to use 'are' instead of 'were.'

Avoid passive voice - the key to good, concise writing. Instead of writing 'are going,' choose 'went.' 'It is raining' or 'he is playing' or 'they are fighting' go with 'it rains, he plays, they fought.'

I'm going to just post my edits from here on it.

***

Although Fireball recently purchased a new power board with extra surge protection, he was not about to take any chances - after all, he remembers the story about a vcr exploding during a storm because it was still plugged in, and the idea of that happeing to his cube frightened him. Quickly returning to the game, he selects quit from the pause menu and returns to title screen with haste. He then touches the cube's power switch. As soon as the screen is black, Fireball rips out the plug. Flash, crack, just in time. That last bolt of lighting hit the creek a few streets away.

The description of how he unplugs the Cube is redundant - edit your writing mercilessly to remove unnecessary details.

In these first two paragraphs, you've set a nice tone without resorting to the conventional 'It was a dark and stormy night.' And your characterization remains consistent - of course Fireball would see the sto