The Hatching Process
(Brother)
Spoiler :
Happy Valentine’s Day! I LOVE ALL OF YOU!!
(even those of you who hate me meheheheh)
First let me apologize for not posting for so long. All I have to say on the matter is first I got caught up in school work, and then more recently I got sick and so all I did the whole day was sleep. Also I have been feeling kind of lackluster about writing…for various selfish and possibly not so selfish reasons.
Sorry about the suckiness of this chapter…I am working on getting to the point of having the MC hatch but as you have probably realized I am having troubles writing it out…I think this chapter could have been worse though…
Now for the CONTEST UPDATE!
So I got a total of four entries, Ok so just another little warning…as I said specifically before, if you want to remain anonymous then you have to ask, so if any of the people I post here wish for that but forgot to ask for it please tell me and I will remove it immediately.
So here are our lovely entries in the order in which they received (along with some of my comments) if you don’t like my comments I of course could remove them too, also if I made any mistakes (like got your name wrong, please don’t hesitate to correct me.
Entry Number One: A Short Story and a Poem
Form:
Source: Lycoris
Have You Read Reincarnation Flower Before?: Yes
Tell the truth, have you read all/most of it?: of course
Entry Type: short story and poem stanza
Why this type: I <3 stories.
What prize do you want if you win?: spoilers~! Minor influence on Reincarnation Flowers sounds cool. Recommendations of good books if possible and not troublesome
Thanks for your stories! They're super fun to read~!
Story/Poem:
It was more than fifteen years ago I first walked into that room. When I was five, to be exact. When I first came here, it was some nondescript waiting room, the chairs not too hard, but not too soft either. The air didn’t assault you with a tidal wave of floral fragrances. There were only a few people, but they were genuinely mournful.
You wouldn’t recognize anyone now. Or even anything, really. Translucent curtains darken the room just enough that it’s barely dim, but you can still see the way the women’s attire glisten and glean. Plush chairs and spacious sofas you could drown in line the walls with first rate paintings are draped above, depicting my father’s life. People fake sob, casting covetous glances at whatever priceless antiques my mom has in here. It’s ridiculous.
“Well, son, I am sorry for your loss. He was a great man.”
One of my father’s older business colleagues roughly pats me on the shoulder, his wine glass sloshing a bit.
“Thanks,” I say back, but he’s not paying attention. Well, can’t blame him, that’s a deep v-neck he’s eyeing.
When my grandfather died, the people who came didn’t make a poor joke of it. I suppose Grandpa forgot to teach Dad how to tell who your real friends are. Or Dad didn’t bother to learn, wrapped up in his dreams of never-ending gold and diamonds. Look where it got him now.
Even though the waiting room is packed with people, no one stops at Dad’s corpse long enough for me to recognize them. They just sink, bow, and slink away, the shadows dripping off of their veils and bowler hats. A record player starts, the slow rhythm seeping into the guests, causing them to sway. Voices grow louder as the sunlight fades and people get more intoxicated. I stand close enough to Dad’s resting place that I can prevent any mishaps, and far away enough from the crowd that they seem like a black cloud, wraith-like mist rising from the plentiful cigars and water bongs. Even the smothering rose stench can’t mask the smell of smoke now.
And none other than mother is in the center of it all, the center of a crowd of powerful elitists, the center a global billionaire corporation, the center of a self-made-man’s fortune.
She couldn’t even wait for him to eat dinner, what I had specially ordered to be so good the chef said it would was so ambrosial it was to die for. Ah well. There’s a reason why mom insisted having Dad buried with his childhood scarf that smelled so sweet. Said he couldn’t go to hell without it.
To the same fires that burned the divorce papers to crisp. Tragic. At least the makeup hiding the bruises on mother’s neck get washed away- unlike these sins that stain us.
To me, dreams are only of
A blank world filled with
Coalescing and dying vapor, their storms
Drowning all shards of hope
Short Story Author’s note: What a dark story. Originally, I was planning on only submitting the short story, but after a while, I came to thinking that as an avid fan, why not show something nice~
I just really adore the unnamed MC and the story (especially the beginning, man the beginning is dope) you’ve created, hence a cute poem.
Other note: You see, to me, poems are far more personal than stories. Poems retain much of the poet’s raw voice unlike prose, the beauty of language magnified by simplicity. So I ask (on the small chance of this being relevant) for this poem to not be used for not nice purposes (idk how that’d happen). Gracias por su amabilidad, y feliz cumpleaños! Thanks for your kindness, and happy birthday!
Frostypine Commentary:
Pros:
Well I felt the quality was quite good, I like the simplicity yet vividness of the descriptions they are interesting. The poem really made me think, yet wasn’t exactly impossible to understand both qualities I like to find in poetry I read. Don’t worry I definitely won’t use it for any bad purposes :)
Cons:
Well it was a bit too short for me, even for a short story, I may have to dock you points for that. Also is that in addition to being short…it doesn’t really have any plot to speak of, thus rather then calling it a ‘story’ a better way to describe it in my opinion would be a ‘scene’. As a result of being so short, it is kind of vague I can’t really tell whether I should just be stereotypical and assume the father is a rich bad man who beat his wife, and that wife is now merely guiltily happy that he is dead. Or if the wife was some sort of evil gold digger who gave as good as she got in that relationship, and is not wearing any make up because she wants to play the victim/engender sympathy and attention.
I am also not quite sure what or possibly who killed him…did they both work together to poison him? And if so why are they not facing justice for it?
Other:
If you want it to be a short story what I recommend is adding in some conflict that is still in motion…for example does is your character angry at his father? Empathizing with him? Is he still getting over his death/agonizing over what might have been? Does he wish he hadn’t gone to the funeral? What does he hope/expect for his own funeral? Another option I could see happening with these sorts of stories is that the father decided to have his will read at the funeral and something happens that no one expected. Or if he or his mother did kill the father maybe police barging in and arresting them or something, like mentioning their connections that got them out of trouble.
Entry Number Two: An Observation on Reincarnation Flower
Form:
Source: OshieteKudasai
Have You Read Reincarnation Flower Before?: Yes
Tell the truth, have you read all/most of it?: Yes
If No for either of the former 2 questions or in the case that the reason for yes is really interesting, why are you entering this contest?: I don't want to be a lazy reader. (I am arleady, to late for me :p )
Entry Type: My thoughts abour Fiction (clever criticism and litle flatery)
Why this type: I'm bad with writing and making any kind of art. ;(
What prize do you want if you win?: Medium sized - painting/picture of MC after haching
Let the flame (akemhhh i mean clever criticism....) begin:
When i first found your fiction i thought that this will be another boring reincarnation story, where MC is kiled in a accident, then reincarnated, becomes op, fight with final boss, and ends with a happy ending with harem. Damn i was sooooo wrong.
First chapters (0-14 in one go) were a masterpice, i couldn't get myself away from it. But then something hapend, and each next chapter was less and less entertaining. At first i didn't knew why, but after a long thoutght i realized the reason. TOOO much informations, to litle action and to slow plot development. Don't take me wrong, i still like your fiction and i will still read it no matter what, it will just be litle less entertaining than at the begining.
Propably after a while, i will look back to this post and cry becuse of my stupidity but well.
And this is it, i hope that ur not sad or mad at me, but if u do and u want to discuss this with me, i will always reply to your messages.
One last thing before the end, WE NEED MOOOOORE CHAPTERS.
THE END teheeeeee......
Frostypine Commentary:
Pros:
Well…I am kind always open to some flattery, in particular I had a five second fantasy centered around your use of the word ‘masterpiece’
Cons:
Come on, it was only after a ‘long thought’ that you realized all my weaknesses? I think that is kind of exaggerating I think my weaknesses are actually quite apparent.
Other:
Well I am definitely not sad or mad at you, but it is slightly annoying that people focus just on a single part of my story (in your case the first four chapters) and then say they found the rest (boring etc.)…in my opinion it is far too early to make any concrete decisions on it. However I don’t really feel a need to discuss it with you…I don’t really see anything you said that can really be argued about.
Entry Number Three: A portrait of ‘Perfect’ Peridot
Source: Nibbles
Form:
Have You Read Reincarnation Flower Before?: Yes, It's one of my favorite stories
Tell the truth, have you read all/most of it?: All but chapters 32-34 ..... May have skimmed over those ones.....
If No for either of the former 2 questions or in the case that the reason for yes is really interesting, why are you entering this contest?: I felt like drawing some fan art for this series anyway since I thought gem dragons sounded interesting. I wasn't going to submit it at first since I have like zero confidence in my art and thought it would look stupid if there were a lot of better ones submitted and I got a little intimidated. But when there turned out to be less entries than I thought there would be, I figured, YOLO
Entry Type: Fan art of prince Peridot
Why this type: Because my drawing skills are okay, but my writing skills suck.
What prize do you want if you win?: Another chapter soon I guess? Preferably one where something actually happens and not another filler chapter. Honestly, I just entered the contest cause I love this series and wanted to participate so the prize isn't really important for me.
https%3a%2f%2fscontent-ord1-1.xx.fbcdn.net%2fhph...e%3d575FB671 [https://scontent-ord1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xpf1/v/t1.0-9/12631303_1000388060044091_2033340847561814971_n.jpg?oh=7844d2d76a2ccac6fd4d9aae65061db7&oe=575FB671]
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Frostypine Commentary:
Pros:
I think it is quite pretty and actually kind of close to what I think gem dragons look like, Perry in particular.
Cons:
The shade of green used is not my favorite color…but actually now that I think about it, I created Perry to be a disliked guy to begin with, so maybe this isn’t a con. It is a small one, but although it is close to what I imagine it isn't exact ( and I have to admit exact is probably impossible even by me)
Other:
Only picture entry, makes it kind of unique.
Entry Number Four:
Source: Prajit3
FORM:
Have You Read Reincarnation Flower Before?: Yes
Tell the truth, have you read all of it?:till Chapter 32
If No for either of the former 2 questions or in the case that the reason for yes is really interesting, why are you entering this contest?:
Entry Type: why I like the friction/book (which ever you prefer) RF
Why this type:can't think of anything else.
What prize do you want if you win?:more chapters and soon (please)
I really like this friction because:-
1) it has really good world and character building.
2) the author does not rush the friction like some (most) people do
3) the releases are stable (ie. Do not happen like no chapters of months or weeks or days and then releases all at once. ) (though slow for my taste. ).
4) the grammar is very good (almost perfect but for the rare mistakes which are almost instantly fixed after posting .)
5) you resond to messages fast and do not keep the person waiting. Ps. Btw I hate waiting for a reply to my comments
6) you are open to suggestions and do not ignore them.
7) the story is good (very good)
8) etc..........
Will stop hear because I think I went over the character limit (sorry if more or less RRL does not have word/letter count and I am to lazy to count.
Thanks for the chapter, contest, book and more chapters if I win. Keep writing this great great friction/book (sorry if you don't like either of the words for it.)
Ps. I like the current chapters as much as the previous once or more keep at it.
Btw I like the balancer path.
Frostypine Commentary:
Pros: I like how I have both a (somewhat criticizing) entry and a more complimentary entry (this one). I also like how you are complimenting and me and not just the story.
Cons: You didn’t tell the truth (I mean answer the question that asked you too), while I liked hearing from someone who likes my weakness (too much writing etc.) I would have appreciated it, if you had included a bit more on what I can improve on. You complimented me and I don’t like myself, (I am just being difficult I know).
Other: Just so you know although there were guidelines on the preferred character amount, they were guidelines not concrete rules and as long as your entry wasn’t pages and pages long its fine, with perhaps the exception of shortstories/fics. Also I am glad that you like the balancer path, It is my favorite as well ;)
So I think I will get back to the winners/what prizes they won in the next chapter see you then and happy reading!
It was somewhat embarrassing to be a hatchling once one got over the shock.
We had all tried our best to choose the option in unison, but once chosen it was unknown if we succeeded. For right after the hatching instinct took over and all my body could think of was focusing all my energy and using the small egg-horn on the tip of my nose. To hit against the shell of my egg with all my strength.
Although my shell was supposedly quite strong and according to sister it was even stronger than most of the others eggs, with the exception of possibly my other siblings, I was also strong and thanks to the buffs that came into effect when I started the process I wasn’t unable to make some progress.
After a lot of struggle and an unknown amount of time which to me it felt like days. I felt and heard the first success of a crack. Encouraged I homed in on the newly appeared weakness with my egg-horn and was able to widen the crack and then even break off a few actual pieces making a small hole.
With that little hole everything changed. There never was much room inside of my egg it was quite crowded for my body, and in fact I could barely move. However until that moment when my egg first became opened to the elements of the world for the first and the start of the last time, I had not known it.
Engaging on the mental plane, had always kept my mind distracted enough that I had barely felt my body and even more rarely thought of it. But with the air coming inside and touching the liquid I was immersed in as well as some of that liquid dripping through the hole to the outside.
The environment I existed in, since before I could remember cooled all so slightly. But that tiny temperature change was enough for me to become aware of my body, in a way that I had never done before.
The hatching process was also in play. It of working to slowly drag my mind from the mental plane and into that of my body and unlike before once inside I could not go back. An equivalent experience I could only say was to be found in a barely remembered dim memory, old enough that the shock of it was akin to have never have felt being in a body before.
I now understood that strange preparation sister had forced us to do before. She had required us to each force our minds back into our bodies and let ourselves get accustomed to feeling them, for as long as we could stand it. We had all hated this feeling but had forced ourselves to do it anyway as we were long used to obedience.
With Sister’s caring present there to guide us, it had been easier for us to find the will power the first few times as well as endure, long enough that we became quite accustomed even practiced to most of the feelings.
Never had I felt as grateful for her wisdom as now for, although this claustrophobic sensation was horrible. I knew it could have been much worse. I might perished from the feeling of being enclosed, penned in. possibly even done something drastic and potentially injuring if I had tried to hatch with no body feeling experience.
Her training held me in good stead now, for after a brief panic I was able to force my mind to think over my extreme feelings and focus on instead of my current situation, the hole and going about making it wider.
The more I worked on making the hole wider the easier it became, the leaking of the liquid out of the egg increased so much so that I felt air on my flesh for the first time. It started with a burning itchy feeling of coolness on the top of my head, but over time the area that was effected slowly started to increase, until I felt the coldness all over my face.
This caused me to at first slow down my speed greatly and then to stall for quite a while.
Though then I thought it cold, I realized not to long latter that the outside temperature that was my hatching place, was actually quite warm. It just was, contrasted with the perfect exact temperature that I had always known before it was a few degrees lower and to my young tender flesh, covered by thin delicate scales the difference seemed quite apparent.
Besides the newly experienced temperature difference there were other new distractions that were affecting me. Such as a strange feeling of almost irradiation, on the part of me I later identified as my eyes. For although it was quite dim, the crack was indeed letting in a minuscule amount of true or at least physical light into what had before been complete and absolute darkness.
Luckily I possessed eye lids, and thus instinctively squeezing my eyes shut even tighter, I forced myself to ignore my various irritations and begin my laboring again. My panic and the claustrophobic feelings now used as motivation, rather than hindering. My shell became merely annoying rather than intimidating, and rather than fear at the unknown outside, my long term companion curiosity was itching to explore.
And thus, after that one long pause my speed quite increased, and soon the hole was large enough that with a little effort I was able to slip my small thin body through it.
I flopped out of my egg and onto the floor, soon after my egg also toppled over and having lost much of its defensive power, as it had been powered by my magic, I heard the sound of it cracking, and then there was silence.
A few moments after that I instinctively coughed the remaining fluid out of my lungs and had started to breath for the first time. At first each and every breath was all that I could think about, but then as I grew accustomed to the sensation after some point I stopped thinking about even that and just ‘existed’.
I lay there on the warm, though it was cool to me, soft sand covered floor, desperately tired as I had never been before, after all my exertions. After a long time during which I may have slept a bit, because I did feel like I had started to awake, or at least become more aware and conscious.
It was quite uncomfortable, I had never felt so helpless and weak before. For most of the time since I had first gained consciousness in the egg I had always been the strongest of the unhatched not counting my Sister.
Maybe not when it came to having powers, Peeper and the others beat me there, and I admit freely that I believed several of my friends to be more intelligent, but I had always been strong in such a way that everyone relied on me, and counted on me because of that strength.
But right now I felt vulnerable and felt quite unreliable besides. Though I could dimly sense the presence of at least several other huge beings (at least from my current perspective) but those creatures, those ‘adults’ were completely unfamiliar and foreign to me.
I felt quite alone. I had broken my connection to the mental plane quite some time ago, but since the challenge of the hatching process had taken up most of my focus I hadn’t been that bothered at the time but now with no mission to distract myself with, I was beginning to realize the reality of my complete and utter isolation.
In the mental plane I was constantly surrounded by others, the few times that I ‘wasn’t’ because of my shallow attempts to seek out privacy, all the others were still just a thought away. Right now, the only one I could hear was myself, besides my own thoughts it was utter silence.
This feeling was quite painful. Though in the beginning I tried to distract myself from my singleness with the new feelings of my body, trying to focus on the sensation of breathing…and the extra novelty that was smell that came with it, it was too overwhelming, too unfamiliar and I started to crave my old familiarity that was now forever lost to me.
I even came to mourn it, it was not like I could go back inside my egg and become unhatched again. But just when I had barely begun to feel depressed, what I had missed the most was suddenly returned to me joyously when I heard the sound of what was the most familiar thing of all.
“So how does it feel to be out in the world?”
It was the voice of Sister, and at the same time I heard this reassuring voice I felt the bond of the mental link snap into place.