HippoHead

see if i can get some critique on the pages! It'd be a very, very gradual help >:}

The calm surroundings of Horoscope Hill were unreflecting of the rage Sylvia felt. Horoscope Hill was always peaceable, though. It was both urban and rural. Houses were set in between evergreens and fields. Animals could be heard cooing from the surrounding forests and caves. It was not like any other town, village, city or place in the world. Sylvia knew exactly what to call it: Bloody weird.

She strode through the High Street, her wavy hair billowing backwards. Ethel struggled to keep up with her, while Cheryl had disappeared completely. Few pedestrians were itinerating and a hazy mist had settled over the town. The heavy, grey vapours hanging in the sky clouded out the sun, giving off the distinct impression that this was a typical Sunday.

“Sylvia!” called out a panting Ethel. “Where you gonna go?”

“The church,” Sylvia answered immediately. “I know I’m being a pain, but I don’t care at the moment.”

Ethel jogged up to Sylvia. “Miles is innocent. He’s not part of FOG - in fact he’s against them. Why did you think he was a Knox - Knox - amI saying thatright?"

Sylvia sighed. “Looking for someone to blame, really. I needed a culprit. I never really thought he was a Knox. I just needed something to cling onto. Y’know?”

“Professional analysis.”

“Thanks. Gave it some thought… just now, actually. I like to pretend I know a thing or two about psychology.”

“Even though you don’t.”
“Well, yeah, that’s implied…”
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ok, I cannot fix these huge spaces! Help me, someone?

Wildcard

Okay. You need to change that font as well as the text size. That's the best I can do for now.

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"Even if you win for the short term, you'll ultimately fail, alive or dead. Imagine if the great men from the past - men who thought they were working to shape the world – could see what their efforts have yielded. There is no change. There is no hope. Marx failed. Hitler failed. Jefferson failed. I just don't try."
-- Reilly (Everyday Madness)

HippoHead

ha. sorry, it went a bit screwed up there. I don't remember it having that font :S

however, I'm keeping the font in the chapter title. As it is an awesome font.

HippoHead

There we is. 27. Read!

far too flash. She liked animals - especially Sir Snout. She wanted to be a veterinarian, though knew nothing on the subject.

“Sir Snout… babe,” she sighed, her usual silvery tone coming out in a tired rasp. “It’s three in the morning!”

Sir Snout merely stared up at her, tail wagging and head cocked. Drool cascaded from his drooping mouth and he wore an apologetic expression - the same look he had when he was discovered with his head down the toilet.

“Sir Snout,” she called down like an announcer. “You big silly. You came all the way here at this time?”

He gave a series of loud barks in return.

Sylvia giggled. It was funny that he seemed to respond to her. In actuality, Sir Snout was admitting his frustration at having to sit out in the bitter cold while she rambled to a creature she knew could not understand her.

“Granddaddyyyy!” Sylvia called. She had to put on her sweetest intonation in order to cool his embarrassing wrath. The disappointed rant he would force on Sylvia resulted in her unable to keep a straight face.

Nobody responded, and she couldn’t make anything out. The amber bulbs in the street lamps were too weak to provide adequate lighting. Where was the tax money going if not into basic necessities such as street lamps?

To add to her grandfather’s senility, Sylvia suspected that he was going deaf, too. Exhaling loudly, she closed the window and glided down the stairs to the front door.

It had been open less than a second before Sir Snout barged past her. The weakened Sylvia gawped at the dog’s rudeness. Paw prints had manifested themselves into the lily-coloured carpet.

She poked her head out of the doorframe, squinting hard. “Grann- ddaadd,” she sang, wondering at which point he would come waddling. But, like before, no response came.

HippoHead

No-one's reading any of this. Never mind. Up it goes!
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“Now, the church - inside it we found a dead body - some innocent person they killed for no good reason and another Sense Scarecrow, though this one was at peace. Had no quarrel with anyone.”

Miles shifted slightly.

“We did a thorough search. To be honest, there wasn’t much in there,” Moonshine rambled on. “We found two very interesting things, though. There was this key card, for one thing… “ He held up what resembled a silver credit card patterned with many lines and circles. “And there was a - ”

Miles’s head burned with the growing volume of the obscene ticking. He harshly pressed his hands to his head, and Moonshine continued his lecture in incomprehensible mumbles.

“Apprentice…” Moonshine said loudly after a few minutes, “are you well?”

“Fine,” Miles replied forcefully.

“Hmm. Very well.” He addressed them all once again. “Anyway… we have absolute evidence of what we feared most. All those ruptures in the ground, those snaking earthquakes - the subterranean dragon, Abaddon Noir has been resurrected.”

Fearful yet intrigued muttering followed this statement.

“Whether by Noxturne or Elder technology, we do not know. If it has been revived by Elder technology, remember this: it has two throats. One for breathing in air, and the other for expelling Xyvenrimous Herasoxide. Should you see it’s throat movements change… run for your life. We‘ll be sending out squadrons to find this dragon, which will be lead by each of you - except you of course, Apprentice. I‘ll be handing-”

“Could I interrupt for a moment?” squeaked a weedy, slick-back, ginger-haired man at the other end of the table.

“Apparently you can.”

Someone snorted.

HippoHead

PSFoster

Hip, I find these pages interesting. Not sure why.

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I'm too blessed to be stressed and too anointed to be disappointed.

HippoHead

oh, I'm done with this
lasted about 3 days XD