Before posting in this area, please be sure to read the brief instructions that follow. Thanks!

The idea of this area is to build a story piece by piece, working together, in order to get insights about the kinds of decisions and options open to us as writers. When we write our own pieces, we may be used to looking at things in particular ways that we can transcend by writing a piece collaboratively.

Anyone can participate, whether continuously or just now and then. If you were involved with Story 1 (about Jason & Hedra), please note that Story 2 will work a little differently.

Each section of the story can be written by anyone and can be any length from a few dozen words up to several hundred.

The story starts off with a piece contributed by one of the writers on this forum, which garnered the best average rating of the five possibilities that were posted.

From here on in, there will be no more ratings: Instead, anyone may post a continuation of the story here at any time, provided only that at least two people have posted continuations since you last posted yours.

Please make a special effort to break your piece off in the middle of a scene, if possible. Please be sure to be consistent with what has gone before.

In the discussion and character threads, we'll discuss how the story is going and how it could continue: where might the story go? Where else might it go? What kinds of decisions are coming off? What kinds of tradeoffs have we made so far? What has come up that was unexpected? Etc. The idea is to put our heads together in discussion what our options are as writers. You're welcome to participate in just the writing, just the discussion, or both.

In order to keep the exercise running smoothly, I may adjust our methods as we go. In order to keep confusion down, I won't try to get consensus on how to proceed here, but would welcome recommendations through e-mail.

There is no longer a password on this forum. Go ahead and post here or in the other threads.

If you have any questions, please e-mail me or post in the discussion thread. Thanks!

Luc

Dr. Trory stepped in front of the class and called everyone to attention. The room hushed and the few remaining dawdlers secured their frogs and hurried back to their tables. "Each partner should have their own frog, swab, jar, and tools," her withered voice spoke the words as though she had repeated them for decades on end. "Begin by placing your frog into your jar and securing the lid."

Qimat opened her hands over the jar and watched the frog plop to the bottom. She lowered her round black eyes to its level, touching her nose to the table edge, and stared at it, the thick, wavy glass obscuring her view only slightly, as she secured the lid. It fidgeted for a moment or two beside the swab, Qimat could still feel the life within it, then settled at the bottom.

"Make certain," Dr. Trory’s voice grew loud and firm, "that the lid is properly secured; it is vitally important." Her creased face softened a little. "It will take a few minutes for the frog to pass. Watch carefully, then you know what to do."

Each student’s eyes turned to their frog. Qimat watched and waited until the swelling of her frog’s throat grew erratic, slowed, and came to a halt. She reached into her tool case and removed a slender knife and a small rod, her eyes still fixed on the jar. The frog lay still for a moment before she saw it. A slight movement along its back that grew until its source, a vaporous body of green and brown, rose from the animal. With a hop, the hazy form fully emerged—a paled, nearly transparent version of the dead frog. Qimat smiled again as its eye regarded her with the same uninterested stare the frog had given her at the aquarium.

"I just can’t see it." A thin, lanky youth, Qimat’s partner, lifted his jar to his face and stared into it. Qimat turned to him and watched as his frog spirit kicked about, then found its way out of the lid. He poked at the jar. "Are you dead yet?"

"Maybe you’ll be able to see it next time, Ram," Qimat set her tools down and patted his shoulder.

Tristram shook his head. "I don’t know. This is the third time I’ve taken this class and I still can’t see them. Maybe if I concentrate more ..." He leaned in closer to the jar.

"Don’t bother. Your frog spirit escaped." She watched as it leaped across the floor, finally leaving the room through the distant wall.

Qimat sighed and turned her attention back to her own frog spirit. She picked up her tools, blade in the left hand, rod in the right, and stared down at where it still sat, perched contentedly upon its body. I can’t worry about Ram now. I must finish this. I must see if I am able.

"Just pay attention to your own frog please, Seeker Qimat," Dr. Trory said, and she stepped briskly away toward Vemma.

The frog had noticed the rod now, and wiggled through the glass side of the jar toward it. Qimat dragged the rod across the counter toward the pentacle, tapping it whenever the spirit began to look distracted. Spirits don't focus very well.

There, it was on the pentacle. The frog seemed suddenly to realize something had changed, and tried to jump. Its motion slowed as its legs extended, and a moment later it had snapped back into a sitting position, unmoved. It blinked at Qimat. She wondered if it was uncomfortable. She set the rod down for the moment and angled the knife toward its head. Her hand was shaking a little.

"I see one!" Tristram shouted. Qimat jerked her hand away and looked up. He was pointing toward the wall. "What is that? Is that what they look like?"

That wall had a light fixture and an emergency pentacle box on it: Nothing else. There was no spirit there that Qimat could see. She motioned Tristram to hush, but it was too late. Dr. Trory came back.

"What?" she said sharply. "What do you see, Tristram?"

"There!" he said, smiling broadly. "That thing: like a goat with two legs. What is that?"

Qimat still saw nothing, still--wait. Did something move? For a moment she thought she saw something flicker there, move across the blackboard.

"It's over by the window," she whispered.

"Everyone will please proceed to the refectory immediately," Dr. Trory announced. Her voice sounded almost as bored, almost as flat as usual, but Qimat thought she heard a note of strain in it. "Vemma, please go to the Spiritualist's office and ask her to come to me immediately. The rest of you will work on your exorcism reports. You may use the library and the data terminals if you wish.

"But I just started!" said Holk. He was a heavy boy with a perpetually startled look on his face, a year ahead of Qimat.

"You may continue later, if the situation permits."

"But my frog spirit will--"

"Holk of Albany, you will serve one week's detention. You may have two if you continue."

Holk's face swelled in indignation like a squeezed balloon, but he only said, "Yes, Dr. Trory."

The other seekers began filing out the door. Qimat struggled for a moment, wondering if she should free hers. No, she could always do that later if they had to repeat the experiment. She followed Tristram toward the door.

"Not you two," Dr. Trory said. "We'll need you here for a little longer, if you please."

After the other students had left the room, Dr. Trory turned to the two. She did not speak immediately but gazed for a lingering moment from Qimat to Tristram. Finally, she spoke. "I can sense it's still in the room. Tell me what it looks like."

It sounded to Qimat like Dr. Trory could not see what they saw.

Both Qimat and Tristram looked to where they had seen the spirit.

"Uh...it's like a goat, with no hind legs, and silvery-blue all over," said Tristram, apparently having no difficulty seeing the spirit.

Qimat wondered why Tristram could see this spirit when he failed to see the frog spirit. Did different "sights" exist? To Qimat, the goat thing Tristram saw flickered--she saw one it moment and the next it was invisible. Yet, she knew it was there, she could sense it, and so she concentrated, struggling to open the pattern.

And then she saw it. And she saw not only the goat-like spirit, but also what looked like a storm cloud with claws that reached for the goat-like spirit.

"Ram can you see the storm cloud too?" asked Qimat.

"Storm cloud...?" It was not Tristram who replied first but Dr. Trory, whose face had gone pale.

"Yeah, I see it now," said Tristram.

"What is it?" asked Qimat of Dr. Trory.

Dr. Trory shook her head. "Describe to me what's happening."

“Why’d it stop?” Tristram pointed as the cloud extended its claws again, cupping them around the frog spirit. “A frog. There’s a frog there in its hands. I see it.” His face spread into a grin. “I can see the frog spirit.”

Qimat turned to Dr. Trory, who seemed to be recovering slightly, then back to the cloud. “My spirit,” she said, almost with disbelief, “It took my frog spirit.” The cloud grew, its vaporous form spiraling down to the ground until it became a massive dark column, and then began pursuit of Hulk’s frog spirit, following it as it hopped out the room through the exterior wall—five floors above ground.

Tristram turned to Qimat. “What’d it do that for?” The two hurried to the window in time to watch the falling cloud reach out and grasp the tiny spirit. “It’s after another frog spirit! Dr. Trory, you’ve got to see this.”

The cloud consumed the spirit and grew denser, morphing almost into an animal shape. Are those eyes? Qimat squinted as the cloud fell, much more quickly then its vaporous form would suggest, down to the ground and through it. Qimat turned from the window to where Dr. Trory sat, her hands clasped wearily in her lap, at one of the desks. The color had returned to her face, but she could see the glistening promise of tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

“What was that thing?” Tristram had opened the window and was leaning half his body through it.

Dr. Trory rubbed her hands together, lost in her own thoughts. “My poor Adiel…” she muttered.

“Adiel? What’s an adiel?”

Before Dr. Trory could answer there came two sharp knocks at the door. The knob turned and in walked a large brick of a woman in a gray uniform. The Spiritualist. Dr. Trory came to herself immediately, wiping her eyes and standing to greet the woman. “Thank you for coming Dr. Toan, but I’m afraid you’re too late. Adiel died again and I couldn’t secure him in time.” She paused. “He was taken.”

The both fell in step behind the good Doctor, feeling as though they had lost a tournament. The sounds of upper class lectures eminating from the other rooms filled their heads. Down two flights, up one, across the horticulture center, and into the main domicile they went. They approached the rectory(sp?). Their classmates, chatting rather loudly, seemd to sense their approach and a curious murmur passed between the huddled 5th season class.
"My I have your attention, please" Trory called. "You will be sent home early today". A excited cheer began to erupt. "Quiet!! You will also receive a codemarked letter to your parents. If you attempt to break into it we will know and you will recieve 4 demerits followed by a weeks work in The Pit after class. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Dr. Trory" everyone recited toghether.

After Qimat grbbed her bags and spiral flute element she wandered off to the bike corral to grab her 2 wheeler.
"Qimat, wait up!" Tristram yelled from across the entryway yard. "Hey, we walk home together. Those two in the 7th season, 2nd order, have been following me around again. I told them that I don't have any more seperators but they wont listen. Did you want to take the shortcut today?"

END

I hope you like my addition Now, maybe we can all get back to writing on this. So far all of your additions are great I would hate to see this story die in its infancy.