I'll be damned if it doesn't seem to be working. I'm starting the story about two months before my previously posted excerpt. The previous material will survive, with minor tweaks to fit later in the story. I am not offering to email additional material at this time, as I'm still filling the void between the two sections.

In particular, I'm wondering if I'm managing to keep the same atmosphere and style as the previous excerpt. Does Kerm seem like the same character? Any logical, plausibility, grammatical, spelling or other errors?

Thanks!

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No one would ever mistake Kermit Gode for a Belter. He was too short, too beefy, and too dark. On Earth, he’d be just another generic American-stock mutt lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t been dirtside since he was five.

The kid facing him had generations of Belters in his blood, and it showed. He was pale, long and lean, and he moved with the easy grace of someone born to light gravity. He had the attitude, too, smiling around his mouth guard like he’d already won. It was that sneer, that damned smirk that pissed Kerm off the most. He’d make the kid eat it, just like the last guy.

The bell clanged and the kid danced out, punching the air. Kerm leapt out of his corner and was inside the kid’s reach before he could react, smashing the kid’s nose with a jab. The

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More generally, Kerm has attitude, but lacks interest for me. The previous opening scene featured action that was necessary in a larger context. Nothing about this opening suggests it's anything other than an exercise in pointless violence. Not that this lacks any appeal...but I was thinking about why Tanaka Punie is so much cooler than Dokuro-chan, and I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Punie has to be violent, she's not just screwing around and beating people to death for no good reason.

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You need to transpose the first two paragraphs (rewriting the new first line, of course) to maintain POV and frame the importance of the information properly. I'd also suggest using "kid" less often, half the number of instances would still be a lot.

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Good points, especially the POV. Kerm's calling him "the kid" because he's arrogant in his own way and doesn't care what his name is. It is awkward to read, though.

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More generally, Kerm has attitude, but lacks interest for me. The previous opening scene featured action that was necessary in a larger context. Nothing about this opening suggests it's anything other than an exercise in pointless violence.

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Not hard to clarify, I think.

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Not that this lacks any appeal...but I was thinking about why Tanaka Punie is so much cooler than Dokuro-chan, and I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Punie has to be violent, she's not just screwing around and beating people to death for no good reason.

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I know those are anime references, but they're outside my experience. I get what you mean, though.

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On that note, it seems a little implausible that a Belter, facing a physical confrontation with somebody that looks like a dirt-sider, isn't going to be very cautious. Perhaps confident about his ability to out maneuver his opponent, but seriously aware of the difference in raw strength. He might feel the way you would about wrestling an alligator, pretty sure of winning (presuming that you knew what to do, that is), but very wary of screwing up.

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The kid called himself The Whip. He had generations of Belters in his blood, and it showed. He was pale, long and lean, and he moved with the easy grace of someone born to light gravity. He had the attitude, too, smiling around his mouth guard like he’d already won. It was that sneer, that damned smirk that pissed Kerm off the most.

No one would ever mistake Kermit Gode for a Belter. He was too dark, too short and too beefy. On Earth, he’d be just another generic American-stock mutt in the crowd, but he hadn’t been dirtside since he was five.

The bell clanged and The Whip danced out, smirking and punching the air. Take a dive for this punk? Kerm thought. Screw that. He leapt out of his corner and was inside the kid’s

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They called him The Whip, because he liked to hurt his opponents before finishing them. He had generations of Belters in his blood, and it showed. He was pale, long and lean, and he moved with the easy grace of someone born to light gravity. He had the attitude, too, smiling like he’d already won. It was that sneer, that damned smirk that pissed Kerm off the most.

No one would ever mistake Kermit Gode for a Belter. He was too dark, too short and too beefy. On Earth, he’d be just another generic American-stock mutt lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t been dirtside since he was five. Not that the mob around the ring would have cared if they’d known. They were there to drink and watch a mudfoot get pulped.

Kerm made his decision. Screw it, he thought. I’m gonna wreck him.

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