ByrdBrain
Active member
I hate walls of text.
I don't even bother to read the first sentence :laugh:
yet sometimes you type em <_<
I hate walls of text.
I don't even bother to read the first sentence :laugh:
yet sometimes you type em <_<
I don't like it when people make new paragraphs when characters speak.
Makes it look like a highschool play script imo.
You haven't read enough books or something because it looks normal because that's how it's done in standard novels. I mean on a computer screen a sentence is spread out longer because a screen is wider than a book page. So in a book it looks like there is less spacing out maybe?
I can't stand it when a new paragraph isn't started lol. It's just what I've been use to since I've been reading lol.
New lines for each dialogue just makes it look bigger & more of a clusterfunk, imo.
I create new paragraphs for every new idea/event. Small paragraphs trick the reader into thinking its shorter than it really is.
I like broad audiences, nah mean.
New lines for each dialogue just makes it look bigger & more of a clusterfunk, imo.
I create new paragraphs for every new idea/event. Small paragraphs trick the reader into thinking its shorter than it really is.
I like broad audiences, nah mean.
New lines for each dialogue just makes it look bigger & more of a clusterfunk, imo.
I create new paragraphs for every new idea/event.
Exactly. So if there's a long action scene I'm not going to just cut the paragraph in half for no reason.
Sektor dodged the green net, firing a missile back at Cyrax who repelled it with his laser sword. Cyrax then jumped up in the air, performing an aerial version of his special spin kicks. Sektor grunted and jumped up as well, pulling his fist back but then coming up with an idea. He opened his fist, grabbing Cyrax's ankle and using his immense strength to slam him to the ground, creating a small crater in the ground below them.
Cyrax checked his systems, springing up off the ground and opening his chest plate to reveal a deadly, blood-coated buzzsaw.
There's no reason to start another paragraph lol until like the fight is over :?
You Critcal'ed my paragraph.
I don't type like this!
D:
High school. Most children dream of the day that they will get to choose their own classes, mingle with each other in a cafeteria and witness rowdy scenes of pointless violence. Though, it was far from the ideal in reality, as a young Billy Coen had found out in the last two years of his life. He had been a social outcast, mostly because of his lack of social skills and this tough exterior. His hard face, slight scowl and huge tattoo on his right arm did contribute to the fact. Other students either ignored him or were too scared to go up to him, especially the girls. They simply gossiped about him, discussing what it would be like to actually talk to his face. Billy had just come to accept it, he sat alone and nobody bothered him, which came in handy if he was studying. After school, unbeknownst to everyone, he took piano lessons. Billy was actually quite good at it too. Music was one of the outlets for his creativity, he even wrote his own music. Art was another pastime, he took art classes at school, though no Picasso, he liked to paint and draw. His literary skills were something to be admired, his research was thorough and when it came to discerning the facts, Billy would come out of top. This influenced him in his choice of his major, which was history. Funnily enough, that was the class that Billy almost felt like being in. Not that English wasn’t interesting, It was just they were reading Shakespeare and Billy’s attention span was waning. As he looked around the room, he could see that it wasn’t only himself who was bored. Most of the guys were either asleep on there desks or scribbling in their books, and the girls were either gossiping quietly or texting under their desks. Mr Oliveira, Carlos, the teacher who claimed calling him by his last name was far too formal, sighed and snapped his book shut, waking up the sleeping students and grabbing the attention of everyone. “One minute to go, why don’t you get out of here” He said pointing to the door. After packing up his things, Billy made his way to the door, brushing against a dark haired girl on his way out, causing her to whisper to her friend. Sighing, he continued down the hall and heading to his locker as the bell rang. His locker, down further than anyone else’s, was close to the art rooms. Not many people used these, as they were older style cube lockers, rather than the sleek full length ones nearer to the math classrooms and the cafeteria. Opening the lock with a key attached to his wallet, he dumped his English books in the cramped space and picked up his history books, folder and visual art diary. Billy needed to study at lunch, as he had a history test today and he hadn’t studied as much as he wanted to last night. Shoving the books into his backpack, Billy strolled to the cafeteria, dodging the groups of people and heading through the huge double doors. Joining the end of the line for the lunch counter and picking up a tray, Billy thought about how we was going to finish his assessment piece for art. Grabbing a burger from the bain-marie he progressed down the line, picking up a can of solo and a vanilla slice on the way. He quickly looked behind him, checking that his usual table was free. Satisfied with his choices and the fact his table was free, he grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and produced a ten dollar note, handing it to the disgruntled cashier at the end of the line. One very unexcited “enjoy your lunch” and handing of change later, Billy was on his way to his table, passing tables of gossiping girls who usually occupied this area. Sitting at this lone table, he set down his tray and fished a history book out of his bag, opening it and beginning to revise.His ears picked up at the sound of some girls begging to gossip loudly about some new students this year, much to Billy’s distain. Its not that he didn’t like girls, but they were so damn noisy, it didn’t help with his revision. Looking back to his book, he tried to concentrate, only to be interrupted by a tremendous clatter. The whole room had fallen silent, and Billy looked over to where everyone else was. It seemed a girl, seemingly a new student, had tripped and spilt her lunch all over the back of the resident posh holier-than-thou prick of the school, Alfred Ashford. The prick in question was currently shooting the poor girl the death glare, almost on the verge on slapping her. Looking left and right, no-one seemed to be rushing to her aid anytime soon. Doing something he never thought he would, Billy got up and started to walk over to Alfred’s table, feeling eyes penetrating his back as he approached the scene. Stopping before the ‘royalty’ of the school, he simply looked down at him and addressed him calmly. “Don’t get so worked up, it was an accident.” He said, diverting attention from the girl. Luckily help was not far away for the girl, as Chris Redfield, his fellow classmate, and a student that Billy didn’t recognise helped her up. Jill, that was the girl’s name. Billy found that out as the two boys helped her up, while Alfred dramatically yelled something about getting her out of his sight. Billy quickly apologised for the idiots at another table tripping Jill, and retreated back to his table, leaving the others to their own devices. Looking down at his now cold lunch in distain, he picked up his burger and took a bite out of it, but instantly regretted it. Setting it down, he looked back at his history book. He didn’t notice that Jill had snuck up on her, Chris in tow, until he heard her speak up. She thanked him for saving her and introduced herself. He returned her greeting, and was slightly confused about Chris’ offer. Why would be offering for him to sit with his group? Maybe it was just because he had helped Jill, or just out of curiosity about him, it’s not like they knew each other that well. After a moment, Billy decided to accept the offer, and packed up his stuff and moved over to the new tables, sitting next to Jill and smiling as she broke into conversation straight away. Noticing that she didn’t have any food, as her lunch was splattered over a blazer, he offered her his dessert. Others had noticed this fact too, and soon enough Jill had a full lunch to enjoy. He watched her as Chris gave her a portion of his food, Jill blushing slightly before accepting it. Billy could tell straight away that there was an attraction between them, especially after the way Chris had saved Jill. Jill had looked at her saviour as a knight and shining armour, and had launched into a conversation with him as soon as they sat down. Billy stayed silent during the chatting, just listening to what they were talking about. As two preppy girls sat near him, and began talking to Chris’ sister about cheerleading, he decided to excuse himself from that area. Looking around the table, he spotted a short haired girl, absorbed in a textbook. Billy briefly remembered her greeting him as he joined the table, but never caught her name. Deciding quickly, Billy walked over to her and sat next to her. “Hey” he said, trying to catch the mystery girl’s attention “Whatcha reading?” . The girl returned his greeting, and talked to him, although she seemed a bit annoyed for the interruption. “Just reading ahead in my Calculus textbook. Never hurts to check what’s coming up next in the course.” She said, showing her the cover of her book. Billy was impressed, He never met someone who actually understood calculus, let alone took the course. “Wow, one of the suicide five subjects, I salute you!”. Billy gave the girl a playful salute. He then extended his hand to her. “I didn’t catch your name before, I’m Billy Coen” He introduced, not knowing if she would actually reply. A thought ran through his head, to do with why he was attracted to this girl, why he wanted to talk to her and more importantly, why did he have this weird feeling? “Rebecca Chambers. Nice to meet you.” The girl, no, Rebecca, replied. She then told him that calculus wasn’t too bad, but he knew that she wasn’t too thrilled to be doing the subject. Billy sighed and decided to try a bit of humour. "I don't think I could pass that subject if I tried. Maths goes straight over my head" he joked. Falling silent, Billy looked over to where Jill was, glad that she was fitting in, then stared off into space, thinking about his upcoming test and what he was feeling. A voice snapped him out of his revere, Barry’s voice to be exact. After Billy had joined his new table, Barry introduced himself and struck up a conversation with him. It turned out they shared the same homeroom. Barry was now enquiring what everyone had for their next lessons. Chris was fumbling for his timetable but soon announced his classes, which were oddly enough, the same as Billy’s. Jill was trying to remember her classes, and then shared what they were. She shared his Billy’s history class too, but had drama after it, rather than art. She enquired what she would have to do to change classes. Billy wracked his brain. One of his rare friends in first year wanted to change out of his art class, as he wanted to do mechanics. Billy compiled what he knew, and then offered to help. "You’d have to go to the drama teacher and get then to write a note to the principal about why you wanna change, and that the teacher will let you" he said, hoping he was right.
You don't like it?
A critical hit is good.
You showed you can write a lot better than I can too
+
Good job though :]
BBBLP doesn't like my work?
:|
:bawling:
I joke. I hate stories with cliche lines or mushy love stories