(no subject)
May. 23rd, 2006 07:59 amPART ONE IS HERE...
And now, Part Two:
Fifty years have passed since Mok Leung and his men disappeared on their quest for the Mo-Lan Devils. Men have been born, men have loved, men have died. Guan Lau Ching has only done one of those. He has not even been a fighter for long enough to have earned a nickname, such as ‘Iron Umbrella,’ or ‘Bloody Scholar,’ or even the ubiquitous ‘Fearless.’
Lau was not happy about this.
Indeed, when he sought to go with Hairless Priest Kam on an expedition to the Fog Plateau, he was brazen enough to ask if Hairless could keep an eye out for any feats that Lau might perform while there that would be suitable for a name preface.
“Feats?” smiled Hairless, stroking the smooth skin where most Taoist priests had ridiculous eyebrows, “One does not earn a nickname through ‘feats,’ and one certainly does not seek a name to be known throughout the martial world.”
“I know that, Sifu, I’m just saying—”
“Would you like me to find a short way of telling people that you are Constantly Reaching Yet Never Attaining His Goals Lau?” the priest asked, his smile widening.
“No, sir.”
“Now, tell me again why I am taking you to the Fog Plateau with me?”
“The villagers all say that every few months you go there to dine with Third Uncle Li, the Lord of Spirits, to convince him not to come down from the mountain and feast upon our very souls and fill the rivers with our blood. I thought perhaps…I could… cook the meal or something.”
The laugh of a Taoist priest is always unique, and Hairless was no exception to this rule. Instead of the curt, vaguely maniacal laugh of so many, though, his was like somebody had stuck a very tiny flute in the back of his throat and amplified it several times over.
“Eeeeeee-heeeeeeee-heeeeeeee!” came the piercing wail of Hairless, as Lau’s hands clenched to keep them from covering his ears.
“I dine with Third Uncle Li?! This is what the villagers believe? Eeeeee-heeeee!” Hairless laughed again.
“Young Lau, it is true that I go to the Fog Plateau on occasion. It is also true that while I am there, I dine. The only reason I go, however, is to free what spirits I can from the iron grasp of Third Uncle, and the reason I dine is so that I may have food to offer the ghosts of our ancestors in order to gain their trust. Third Uncle does indeed wish to claim our village, and many others, to swell the ranks of his army. His evil sorcery draws otherwise benevolent ghosts into his servitude, and only by occasionally thinning the crowd can I and other priests keep him at bay."
The smile fell from Hairless’s face and it was as though his features were now cast of bronze. Lau found himself frozen in place, his ears flush red with shame.
“But even I dare not face Third Uncle Li in battle. He has been Lord of Spirits for over three times my own age, and was a simple ghost for many lifetimes before that. In all the times I have been to the Fog Plateau, I have seen him but once, and a single wave of his hand was enough to change my life forever.
The priest removed his small, tent-like yellow hat and ran a hand across his bald head.
“Or did you think that I was always called Hairless?” he smiled, melting Lau’s frozen voice.
“Sifu?"
“Yes, Lau?”
“Is it true that when Peerless Mok vanished on his failed quest for the Mo-Lan Devils, Seventh Tooth of Golden Dragon returned to its hiding place on the Fog Plateau, in the armory of Third Uncle Li?”
“Two things, Lau. First, fifty years is not yet long enough to say that a quest has failed. As for the spear…if we encounter Third Uncle, see if you can keep your wits about you long enough to ask him.”
With that, Hairless hefted his bamboo-framed pack onto his back and began walking, one hand absently beckoning the young man over his shoulder.
Lau was not stupid enough to say anything else until they were several miles into the forest.
b
Novella, perhaps?
May. 22nd, 2006 07:55 am------------
Mok Leung stood at the entrance to the Cave of the Mo-Lan Devils, the ocean's waves licking at his feet, and held aloft his spear, Seventh Tooth of Golden Dragon.
"Mo-Lan Devils!" he shouted into the darkness, his powerful voice echoing deep within, "I, Mok Leung, come to fight your champion. You have kept this fortress hidden for many years, but on this day, red-faced Kwan himself has guided us! Give me face and present your champion, that I may defeat him with my Serpent Fist kung-fu!"
There was a quiet shuffling in the cave, but no response to the challenge.
"Mo-Lan Devils! If you do not give me face," he continued, his face turning red, "we will block up your cave with a thousand stones, leaving you to die slowly of hunger and madness!"
Far inside the cave, a single ember glowed brightly and a torch flared up beside it. The small old man holding it walked slowly to the entrance of the cave, staring with white eyes at the six men who stood before him.
"Since I cannot see you," he said to Mok's chest, "you must tell me. Are you strong?"
"I am stronger than any man in the prefecture! These hands have pulled a running boar to the ground and broken its neck!"
"Ah. Tell me, are you handsome?"
"When the time came for me to marry, I chose the most beautiful woman in the land, and a dozen maidens dove to the bottom of
"Of course. And are you brave?"
"When nobody would seek the Seventh Tooth of Golden Dragon, I alone went to the
"And your men? Are they loyal?"
"Only these men came with me to the Fog Plateau, where the spirits of corrupt ancestors can pit brother against brother, and we emerged with stronger hearts than ever!"
The old man smiled, and pulled at the loose, rotting tunic that hung over his thin and bony frame.
"So now you seek to destroy the Mo-Lan Devils, whose faces have not been seen in daylight for hundreds of winters?"
Mok said nothing, but slammed the butt of his spear against the rocky ground, the brass rings at its tip smashing loudly together. The old man laughed, and turned back towards the cave.
"Wait!" shouted Mok, thrusting Seventh Tooth at the old man's back.
Like lightning, the wizened man spun and stopped the spear with the middle of his thumb.
"Mok Leung," he said quietly, "if you kill me, who will teach you how to be King of the Mo-Lan Devils? Now come, my wife is making us dumplings."
As they followed him into the cave, the sound of the waves grew almost deafening behind them.
------------
b
(no subject)
Mar. 1st, 2006 01:56 pmI think too comic/movie visually when I write things like that.
I need to just let it flow, and leave the details to the reader.
After all, if you can buy The Unmoveable Stance and Steer Cutter, then you can bloody well figure out how Cunning uses the table leg to pull Swift Wind from the Mongolian. Also, I'm changing his damn name. Yes, it's a real Mongolian name, and it means..."Destroyer," I think, but it's too clumsy.
I'll try to rewrite it later. Probably not tonight, especially since I need to do some more LAST SHOT work, and the next part is Hairless Kam and Lau Ching Ying anyway. Fog Plateau, HUZZAH!
b
Who also needs to speak to his Chinese friends and get names and titles right...
DISCLAIMER
Feb. 26th, 2006 04:11 pmThe fourth part of the Mo-Lan Devils story, which I posted early this morning, is still unedited.
It was written at three am after two hours of sleep, and not proofread before it was posted.
So be gentle.
benjamin
WUXIA ALL UP IN YOUR FACE!!!
Feb. 26th, 2006 09:19 amThe Mo Lan Devils are back!
For those who need the story up until now:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three (complete with reference shots)
A quick note: This was written at 3am after 2 hours of sleep and is still unedited. Be gentle. Writing kung-fu fights is hard.
And now...
( Part Four: Aw, man, that Mongolian is gonna dice Cunning into tiny little pieces... )
b
Off to Allerton Park for brunch and a tour of the mansion...
MORE MO-LAN
Feb. 22nd, 2006 05:10 am Man, I did NOT sleep enough tonight. But that's okay, 'cause I got several pages of Mo-Lan Devils out of it.
For photo reference of the type of old Chinese inn I’m talking about, I provided two pictures. The first floor was traditionally open, and functioned as a restaurant and bar. The balcony lead to rooms where people could stay for the night.
Also included is a shot of a the type of traditional wine urn that they would be using, minus the labels. These came in a myriad of sizes, from the one shown to massive, three-foot tall versions. For weapon reference, I have provided pictures of a flexible tai chi sword (imagine one slightly longer) and a Chinese broadsword (imagine one about, oh, three-times that size).
benjamin
No longer drunk
(no subject)
Feb. 16th, 2006 10:09 am1) Wrote part two of the Mo-Lan Devils thing, which apparently only
2) Saw BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN. Can't say much that hasn't already been said. Ang Lee is arguably one of the best directors of all time. Heath Ledger was so good that we needed subtitles for him half the time. Cried several times, like the enormous girl's blouse that I am.
3) Finally saw Running Out of Time 2 (literally: Secret War 2 or Hidden War 2). While not as good as the original (which probably makes my top ten list, which has about 20 movies), it was still quite fun, and has what is quite possibly my favorite non-car chase scene of all time. Any chase scene that starts on foot, has a break in the middle where the chaser and chasee are opposite sides of the street--buying bottled water and an ice cream cone, respectively--taking a relaxing break, and ends up with two guys riding bicycles and totally girl-slapping each other? 4 Teh Winz, bitches.
4) Fell asleep.
Other things happened, but they are TopSecretConfidentialWhyWhyWhyDidYouResign?!
b
Part Two Begins...Now!
( Fifty years have passed since Mok Leung and his men disappeared on their quest for the Mo-Lan Devils. Men have been born, men have loved, men have died. Guan Lau Ching has only done one of those. He has not even been a fighter for long enough to have earned a nickname, such as ‘Iron Umbrella,’ or ‘Bloody Scholar,’ or even the ubiquitous ‘Fearless.’ )
benjamin
You, You, You
Feb. 13th, 2006 03:59 pmWow.
So, by my count, between my LiveJournal and Composite Molecules (the slightly-stripped in-your-inbox version of my LJ) I've got between 250 and 270 people reading what I write these days.
That BLOWS my MIND.
Sure, I know a lot of people have a lot more people reading their stuff, but I like to think that gaining 250 readers in two years simply on the Webernet is THE BEE'S BALLS.
I know that real life, and comic scripting, and manga editing, and Shonen Jump writing has been getting in the way of new stuff--well, new fiction or new About The Fuckbrain stuff--but I'll be getting on that very soon.
I just wanted to say, again, thanks to everybody for your encouragement and your Words of Awesome.
Next up?
A bit of Sir Reginald and, I believe, a return to the land of The Mo-Lan Devils.
Smooches,
benjamin sTone
Flash Fiction In the Middle of the Night
Jan. 21st, 2006 01:45 amRecommended Music: Flowing Water from the High Mountains.mp3
Mok Leung stood at the entrance to the Cave of the Mo-Lan Devils, the ocean's waves licking at his feet, and held aloft his spear, Seventh Tooth of Golden Dragon.
"Mo-Lan Devils!" he shouted into the darkness, his powerful voice echoing deep within, "I, Mok Leung, come to fight your champion. You have kept this fortress hidden for many years, but on this day, red-faced Kwan himself has guided us! Give me face and present your champion, that I may defeat him with my Serpent Fist kung-fu!"
There was a quiet shuffling in the cave, but no response to the challenge.
"Mo-Lan Devils! If you do not give me face," he continued, his face turning red, "we will block up your cave with a thousand stones, leaving you to die slowly of hunger and madness!"
Far inside the cave, a single ember glowed brightly and a torch flared up beside it. The small old man holding it walked slowly to the entrance of the cave, staring with white eyes at the six men who stood before him.
"Since I cannot see you," he said to Mok's chest, "you must tell me. Are you strong?"
"I am stronger than any man in the prefecture! These hands have pulled a running boar to the ground and broken its neck!"
"Ah. Tell me, are you handsome?"
"When the time came for me to marry, I chose the most beautiful woman in the land, and a dozen maidens dove to the bottom of Bronze Gar Lake, drowning with their sorrow."
"Of course. And are you brave?"
"When nobody would seek the Seventh Tooth of Golden Dragon, I alone went to the peak of Tung Ting to wrest it from the grasp of the Shou tribe's leader!"
"And your men? Are they loyal?"
"Only these men came with me to the Fog Plateau, where the spirits of corrupt ancestors can pit brother against brother, and we emerged with stronger hearts than ever!"
The old man smiled, and pulled at the loose, rotting tunic that hung over his thin and bony frame.
"So now you seek to destroy the Mo-Lan Devils, whose faces have not been seen in daylight for hundreds of winters?"
Mok said nothing, but slammed the butt of his spear against the rocky ground, the brass rings at its tip smashing loudly together. The old man laughed, and turned back towards the cave.
"Wait!" shouted Mok, thrusting Seventh Tooth at the old man's back.
Like lightning, the wizened man spun and stopped the spear with the middle of his thumb.
"Mok Leung," he said quietly, "if you kill me, who will teach you how to be King of the Mo-Lan Devils? Now come, my wife is making us dumplings."
As they followed him into the cave, the sound of the waves grew almost deafening behind them.