BF-Alvaro

=
=Hello, everyone! My name is Alvaro, if you haven't noticed. So I live in Barcelona, Catalunya, Spain. I can speak 3 languages (Catalan, Spanish, and English). Then, I know some Japanese and Italian (though I'm originally from Catalunya). Life in Barcelona is great. It has a good climate, nice people (mostly), and very good food. Now, enough about where I live here is some information about myself:
 * I'm 12 years old (for now).
 * I'm alive.
 * I'm pretty (though my classmates would say really) strange.
 * I'm tall.
 * I enjoy writing.
 * I love basketball but don't like soccer (though I dislike sports in general).
 * I like learning new things.
 * I hate geography.
 * I love history.
 * I enjoy both reading and writing (writing best).
 * I like mangas (Japanese comics).
 * I use my imagination a lot.
 * I enjoy eating.
 * I'm done with the general info and will start with more detail.

I don't really want to put an image of myself so just imagine a basketball player, take away the beard and t-shirt and make him shrink a little. That's me. Oh, and if you really need a picture of me here is my fictional character which I use in most RPs, I look nothing like him, yet:

Now, I have many hobbies but most of them are related to learning, manga, anime, or role-play. Here is my favorite anime character from Law of Ueki: Seiichiro Sano: Here is my favorite food, "pato a la naranja": Now I like both poetry and literature, my favorite book is The Hobbit and Ender's Game. My favorite author is Tolkien (author of the Hobbit and LOTR trilogy). My favorite poets are Pablo Neruda and Joan Maragall and I don't have a favorite poem.

I also have favorite quotes and here they are: and some quotes without pictures:  //I think, therefore I am.// **René Descartes**

//Except our own thoughts, there is nothing absolutely in our power. **René Descartes**

The first precept was never to accept a thing as true until I knew it as such without a single doubt. **René Descartes**

Evil brings men together.// **Aristotle**

//Imagination is more important than knowledge.// **Albert Einstein**

Um, I hope this is enough about me, and if you have any questions such as "What does "pretty strange" mean?" or any others, please don't doubt to send me a message which I'll answer as fast as I can.

YOUR STORY WAS AMAZINGGGG ! GREAT JOB, THERES NOTHING BETTER YOU CAN DO.

=STORY= = = =The Calling of Darkness= Sergio (nicknamed “Dino”) opened the door. I watched him come into the room. He then said, “Xavi, I’m tired! They’ve fired me again! I can’t do anything right!”

I sat up from the purple couch I was sitting on and looked around the room. Since I had to maintain Sergio we didn’t have a decent apartment. Even though, it was next to “La Playa de la Concha”, it only had a living room, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom which were all quite small. The living room was kind of decent, with a purple couch in the middle and in front of it was the TV. Except for that, there was only a yellow table in the far corner where we ate. I stared at Sergio wide-eyed even though I wasn’t surprised. I looked around the room again and got the courage to say these words, “Sergio, it’s not that you’re a failure, it’s that you don’t put effort into things.”

I set the bomb off. Sergio normally had a pale skin, small blue eyes, and dark brown hair which was always perfectly combed. He was in shape and usually wore a shirt and jeans. Now, he was a new man. His face turned red with fury, his eyes widened and stared at me intently. He approached slowly but with heavy steps which made even his perfect hair shake. He was a bit taller than me, but we were at eye level. He stared at me with rage and roared, “I try my best! **Always!**”

That was quite a terrible scene. I was like the old him, and the new him was staring at me enraged.

He then opened the door and went out of the apartment., before he slammed the door he said, “I’ll show you what I can do! I will become better than you!” Then, he slammed the door and left. I sat on the couch thinking. After a while, I decided to go to sleep (it was about nine in the afternoon). I thought that that all problems would get solved by tomorrow but, oh, they didn’t!

I woke up the next morning. I walked up to where Dino was supposed to be sleeping (a hammock in the other side of the room). Dino wasn’t there. At that moment I cursed and swore. I walked into the living room. There was a paper on the table. There was writing on the paper. This got even better, the writing was from Dino! It said, “Dear, no, wait, forget about it. Hello, no I should be formal. Um, I’ll just give you the message, ok? Oh, yes, this message should be to you Xavi, not anyone else. Yes, not even mom if she ever comes. Anyways, I have joined the mafia in Sicily. Do not come to Sicily to try and take me back. I have made my decision. I have already left to Sicily, this morning. I will do various jobs. Don’t try and search for me.”

I knew he was being serious but, strangely, decided to ignore it. I didn’t want to stop him, it was his choice, not mine. I passed seven beautiful years in peace.

Then, I saw it, written in bold black letters in the popular Catalan newspaper (I was originally from Girona and have lived in Barcelona for lots of years) called Avui. It said, “**Dos Cadavers Trobats a la Ciutat de Barcelona al Port Olimpic**.” This meant that two corpses were found in the city of Barcelona (at Port Olimpic). If you read further it said that these corpses were from Piero Passolini (my dad) and Nuria Puig (my mother). Yes, I am called Xavi Puig Passolini and Sergio is called Sergio Puig Passolini (my parents decided to change the order of the last names so my mother’s could go first). They had been put in the port at 2:00 AM by an Italian boat from Sicily. They haven’t found the boat’s owner yet but they say it had to do with the mafia. Now, it was seven years since Sergio joined the mafia and I think he was corrupted. He was possibly, now, a malicious, vicious and even bad being. He didn’t deserve to live. Of course, all this was speculating. Though, I would like to tell you some information I researched about the mafia. After five years of being in it, you could get to be in a higher rank. Yes, a higher rank such as boss of a section instead of a useless drug-dealer. If you wanted to go up in rank, though, you had to kill someone in your family. If you wanted to become the chief of a section (only in Sicily) of the island, you had to kill your parents. Most people do this after six or seven years of being in the mafia. Now, it is January the 8th and I have heard that mafia members only reveal corpses from their “initiation rituals” after about two months had passed (since the kill). This might mean that Sergio decided to become the ruler of a section in Sicily, and therefore had killed our parents.

At that moment fury and rage burned in me. I tore the newspaper into pieces. I went to the computer (which I got installed in the living room next to the TV) and into the webpage of a travel agency. I wanted to get a flight to Sicily. I was going to meet my twin. I printed out the tickets and headed for the airport where I would wait. I waited until it was the time for the plane to take off (at eight in the afternoon). I went in the plane and sat in my seat. I looked out the window, wondering how I would talk to Sergio, but, that would come later. Right now, I enjoyed the view of Donostia from the air. It was beautiful. It had beautiful houses, people were enjoying a nice dinner in the streets, the water of the beach was blue and calm. All was sweet. Too sweet for me, especially when enraged. How would you feel if your twin, brother, and/or friend had killed your parents? Yes, I felt like shooting my idiotic brother. At least, the view relaxed me so I slept for the whole flight. The adventure was about to begin.

I arrived at an airport of Sicily. I went to get my suitcase and then went out of the airport. I could finally feel free, and smell the fresh air filled with gasoline. It wasn’t that fresh, but for an urban person like me, it was just fine. Basically, I could see taxis and people. My view was very limited. It wasn’t the best place to be in, but I felt great, because I was calmed down. Though, I think I would be better in the hotel. I went in the line which was waiting for a taxi. I could still only see taxis and people, oh, and taxi drivers which I can’t quite qualify as people. Finally it was my turn to get into the yellow transport. I went in one which was driven by a man, probably about thirty, which was Arab. I had seen such things in New York but I had not imagined that taxi drivers were also immigrants in Italy. I felt bad for him, such a notorious and horrible job for a normal person. Anyways, I sat next to the driver, told him by hotel address, and waited for this ride to be over.

We finally arrived, I paid the taxi driver, and went into the hotel. I waved the receptionist, he didn’t wave back. From that moment and on, I despised that darned receptionist. Anyways, I went to him. He was a tall white man with a big moustache. He had a ling nose and was very ugly. That’s all the description I’ll give you about this horrible man. He had a wart, yes, that I can tell you. I walked up to him in him, to his perfect golden desk with a perfect golden bell, and papers. I rang the bell to disturb him. He pointed at the red, big carpet on the floor, with beautiful patterns, and at the couches, each beautifully dressed with green silk. The lounge was the opposite of the receptionist, beautiful. I talked to the receptionist and he gave me the key to my room. He said someone was waiting for me up there. I knew who it was. I walked toward my room using the colorless steps. I could’ve taken the elevator, but I did not want to describe it. The stairs were squared and colorless, not much to describe. I finally arrived to the seventh floor, out of breath, where my room was. I walked into the hallway. There were a couple of paintings of rivers on the walls which were painted yellow. The floor was covered by a red carpet with green stripes. My room number was two-hundred nine. I walked toward the room and entered. It was quite a nice place, with green wallpaper, couple of red carpets on a brown floor, and some paintings. It had a bathroom with the usual things (didn’t really inspect it thoroughly). There was a closet, with a couple of hangers. Most importantly, though, there was the main room (as I will call it) with one big bed and a TV. There were also a couple of desks and chairs (wooden) and, of course, the minibar. A person was sitting on the bed. He was a bearded man with white hair that surrounded his face. The man was wearing a yellow t-shirt and green pants. He looked old, with wrinkles and a slow and unsteady movement, and I can assure you he wasn’t drunk. The old man said, “Hello, um, Xavi, right?”

“Yes, Xavi, Mr. Fabriccini. Well, you know why I called you, right?” I answered.

“Yes, I do indeed, and please call me Paolo,” he said.

“Ok, so what can you tell me about the Sicilian mafia, I mean, you wrote a book on them, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did write one, which is still unpublished due to the fear a feel. I think my life would be in danger if I published it. Anyways, I can tell you many things about them, anything, you’d especially want to know?”

“Yes, how can I contact them?”

“Oh, that, it’s quite hard. First of all you’d need to have a relative in there…”

“Which I do.”

“Yes, which you do, and then, um, I don’t know. I guess you’d have to contract their services.”

“By their services you mean?”

“You know, protection. Maybe you’d need to do a job or too. If you know their wife they’ll let you pass. Also if you have anything special to trade. Some drug or weapon maybe?”

“What if it’s old?”

“They love the antique business! Lots of Americans would be interested. Of course, if you do such a thing, you would be able to talk to him whenever you want, if he’s not doing, you know, things."

“Yes, I know, do they have some code of honor?”

“Yes, they have ten commandments which are *(Written at bottom of page so you can continue reading).”

“Ok, that’s all I needed to know.”

* (Page would supposedly end here and though they were other pages, this is the only important break I need to write about)
 * 1) No one can present himself directly to another of our friends. There must be a third person to do it.
 * 2) Never look at the wives of friends.
 * 3) Never be seen with cops.
 * 4) Don't go to pubs or clubs.
 * 5) Always being available for Cosa Nostra is a duty - even if your wife is about to give birth.
 * 6) Appointments must absolutely be respected.
 * 7) Wives must be treated with respect.
 * 8) When asked for any information, the answer must be the truth.
 * 9) Money cannot be appropriated if it belongs to others or to other families.
 * 10) People who can't be part of Cosa Nostra: anyone who has a close relative in the police, anyone with a two-timing relative in the family, anyone who behaves badly and doesn't hold to moral values.

Paolo left the bed and walked towards the door, opened it and went out of the room. I now knew many more things. I had to sell my old Glock Pistol. It was kind of cool, but if it was needed, it was needed. I left the room walked through the busy hotel in search of coffee, bought a coffee which tasted horrible, so I threw it out. What was I going to say? Oh, yes, I went out into the street and smelled the dirty air. It felt great (for an urban person like me it wasn’t so contaminated but if I was a country person, that would be awful air)! A taxi stopped in front of me, I had called it, of course. I went in the taxi and talked to the driver, I said, “Please take me to the //Intelligente Gelato// abandoned factory.”

“Are you from the mafia?” he asked.

“No.”

“//Mamma Mia//! //Tu é pazzi//! (Mamma Mia is a common expression in Italy to express surprise and //Tu é pazzi// means “You are crazy”)

“No, I’m not, I got contacts in there.”

“I don’t really care, as long as I get paid.”

“You won’t don’t worry.”

“Huh?”

“Or do you want my protection to be used”

“No, no, of course not. Well, we have arrived, take this like a free ride.”

“Great,” I said as I smiled, I had tricked the fool.

I stepped out of the car, being alert for any guns or things. This was the place where the Sicilian mafia met with drug dealers and low-life scum (as they called them). I entered the place in silence and saw many people talking in a circle. The smells of burning flesh filled the air. I could here someone talk. It sounded like Dino!

“... do you understand? If any of you dares take part of the precious drug we sell, especially cocaine, and sells it at a low price for more useless drug, you will end up like your companion. Understand?”

“Yes,” they all said in unison.

“Good, oh, and don’t you dare try take over our territories. You are scum, no, worse than scum. You are the low-class criminals, if you can be considered criminals. We let you be in the prideful organization called //Cosa Nostra// and you take this privilege and think it’s and obligation of ours. well, it’s not. I’m tired! Only people from the //Camorra// (Sicilian mafia) can own territories in Sicily and offer protection or contracts to people. You just transport the drug, understand! If it’s not clear, let me show you this. Bring the idiot.”

They brought a person, who could barely stand due to the severe wounds he had. He had been tortured, possibly by cigars and was naked. He had crystals at his feet, making him bleed. I don’t want to describe anymore of this grotesque show.

"He has been punished, because he offered services to the civilians. This is not tolerated. He has not been killed, yet. I will show you how this punishment would end.”

He took out a gun, and well, you know the rest. I was quite amazed at that scene. I actually expected them to do that. Dino had changed a lot! The drug dealers left and I approached the group. They raised their guns until Dino saw me. He said, quite surprised, but happily, “Oh my boss! Brother! Is it you, Xavi?!”

“Yes it is me, I wanted to talk to you,” I said.

“Do you have anything to trade,” he said turning serious.

“Yes I do, indeed, brother. I have ,my old Glock Pistol.”

“Nice, an antique. Take it boys.”

Just when he said that two people, probably from mafia’s rank “The Soldiers”, approached me and put out their hands. I handed my Glock Pistol. I’m not that much of a gun lover so I didn’t really care. Those two people wore a jacket which covered even their face. That’s strange for a Mafia member so maybe they were associates. Mafia people make black or Asian associates (sometimes even American) wear these jackets, to cover up their body.

“Alright Xavi, talk to you tomorrow at... nine, maybe? In the morning of course.”

“Why can’t you talk to me now, I’m free.”

“Got some business to do. As the head of one of the three sections from the Famiglia Vongola, I have no rest.”

“I really think you need another job.”

Two of his friends approached menacingly, but Dino stopped them.

“No, I’m fine where I am. You told me to find a job! Here I am! Earning much more in a month than what you earn in a year."

“Money is not the most important thing in this…”

“Of course it is. Money moves mountains. The only important things in this world are pride and money, now go! You’re getting me angry so come back tomorrow.”

I walked to the hotel through the dark street. I could barely see anything except for lots of houses. They were all similar, white and straight, and lifeless. I finally arrived in front of my hotel when a women came running to hug me. She started to cry. I did not know that women, at all. She had blonde straight, but long hair. She was wearing a blue dress, and high-heeled shoes. She was beautiful, with big blue eyes, that stares intently at me and bright-white teeth. I did not know her, though, so I asked her, “What are you doing?”

“Aren’t you Xavi, Dino’s brother?” she asked.

“Yes, I am, who are you?” I asked.

“I’m his girlfriend from the USA Grace Stewart.”

“Oh, and what do you want?” I questioned her.

“You have to save Dino!” she said as she broke into tears (even more than before). Waterfalls were now pouring from her eyes.

“I’m trying to, but don’t worry, I’ll save him tomorrow,” I said kind of jokingly.

“He has killed too many people, please do it now.”

“Tomorrow.”

I passed her, ignoring her. She tried to follow me but a guard blocked her. I think that person was from the mafia because he then took her. Also he had a square face, was smoking a big cigar, and wore a nice tuxedo. Only mafia dress like that for a job. I didn’t stop him, because he had done me a favor, and because Grace would be safe with her boyfriend, I’m sure. I was terribly wrong, but I just walked up toward my room, opened the door, and laid on the bed. I didn’t even take off my clothe and I was already asleep.

I woke up the next day. There was something on the floor for me. It was a videotape from my friend Giovanni (an informant on mafia). I got it and put it into the television (it had a video recorder). I saw a video, which happened in a dark alley. There was Grace and Dino. Grace tried to resist, I did not know why. Then I heard a shot. It came from the video (obviously). Grace was lying dead on the floor on a puddle of mud. It was quite terrifying. I switched off the TV. It was 8:30. This time I decided to walk toward //Intelligente Gelato//. I found Dino there. he talked first, “A bit late, aren’t we? Anyways, I’m all alone, so you can talk to me privately.”

“You killed your girlfriend,” I said solemnly.

“Oh, she was against our plans.”

“She wanted to help you! You killed a person!”

“Anything else you want to talk about.”

“Yes, I want you to come back home.”

“NO! I’m good where I am!”

“You killed our parents!”

“To become the boss of a section in…”

“I don’t care, you idiot. Is pride and money worth love?”

“Love is for idiots. Pride and money are the only important thing.”

“Ok, but I don’t think you have forgotten the days when we used to play together in Barcelona. Happy that Franco (Catalans really hated him but Dino did especially) had died, we had a good life, until now. You’re no more than that dictator!”

“I’m no dictator! I’m not like him!”

“You are! Otherwise you would remember the happy moments and value the brother that had saved your live.”

“I..I…I lo…”

I heard bullets being shot. Metal bouncing into the concrete walls of the factory, creating echo. Someone came in, probably a “transport person” since he wore old rags. He was missing an eyebrow (and eye) had few teeth and was cut in many places. He had a bad shaving (which probably wasn’t shaving). “Boss wants you, no time to chat,” he said.

Dino left the room by force, he was still in shock about what had happened.

I had to leave or I would be shot (possibly). I left //Intelligente Gelato.// It was quite dark in the street, the tall buildings blocked the sun. I was quite nervous for poor Dino, he was beggining to change, and they got him, which was quite scary. I finally arrived at the police station. I walked in, called for the chief. They told me to wait. I waited in that metallic room. Only thing I could see were desks full of papers, most of them with the word mafia on them. Only one person was working, the others were drinking coffee and eating doughnuts. The chief finally came. He was a short man, about 1.50 cm, and chubby. I looked down and saw him. He glared at me and said, “//Buongiorno// (good morning), why have you come?” “//Buongiorno// (good morning),” I answered, “I have come because I have a problem with the mafia.” “ // Paolo, hai sentito? Questo vecchio pazzo vuole il nostro aiuto contro la mafia! Hahahaha // .(Paolo, have you heard? This old fool wants our help against the mafia, Hahahahaha)“

“I’m serious, I want help. I need you to aid me,” I said, rage burning inside me. “Go talk with the idiot over there, Marc, and leave me alone.”

I walked up to meet “Marc” which seemed to be the only person working. I got air to say something but he interrupted.

“I can’t speak Italian, don’t bother, I’m from Catalunya and have lived my whole life in Italy speaking Catalan. So, what do you want?”

“(I will not talk in Catalan much so I don’t have to translate) //Home, amic meu! Jo també soc català. Bé, Vull que m’ajudis amb un tema de la mafia.//(First sentence is a friendly expression. I’m also catalan. Well, I want you to help me with a problem with the mafia)”

“Yes, yes, what is it?”

“Well, my brother has joined the mafia and…”

“He can’t get out, right?” he interrupted.

“Yes, indeed.”

“I’ll help you, but you’ll have to meet one of my contacts. That’s my duty as a policeman, to have contacts,” he chuckled.

I followed him into a dark alleyway. There was an old man dressed in old clothe. For the first time I looked at Marc. He looked like an athlete, with muscular arms and legs and no beard. He had straight white hair and looked pretty serious all the time. The other man had a short beard, an old pocket watch and gloves. He was wearing a vest and some kind of pants. He was neatly dressed, but by the look on his face, he seemed to live in the streets.

“Does he live in the streets,” I whispered to Marc.

“No, of course he doesn’t. Though, he spends most of his time “researching” and/or reading outside,” he whispered back.

Marc turned to face him.

“Hello, Tom, would you find giving us some information on a new member of the mafia called…” said Marc.

“Dino,” I said,” He’s been there for quite some time. His real name is Sergio.”

“Thou art searching for the mysterious and treacherous Dino, am I not mistaken?” said Tom smiling.

“He speaks with an archaic accent, in Old English, and always wants to know everything, which he does, that’s why he said the ‘am I not mistaken’ part,” Marc whispered and turned to face Tom, “Yes, we are, do you have any information on him?”

I waited there for them to finish their conversation. I mean, I knew how to speak English but not as well as Tom, I barely understood him. First of all, though, what’s “thou”? I mean, I guess it meant you but it could’ve meant anything. Anyways, while I thought, they continued with their conversation.

“Yes, I do, indeed, my friend. Some reliable sources say that, this fool thou are looking for resides in the area of //Esperanto// in Northern Sicily.”

“That place is not inhabited by the mafia, why would he be there?”

“Thou art wrong, Marc. Thou goest there, betwixt two buildings, and they’ll shoot as if thou wert an old sack. Do thou know //El Bambino// as he is nicknamed? He hath all types of things there. From old weapons such as bilbos, to wittles producers such as kine.”

“Ok, so there is mafia there?”

“Thou dost not understand. Yes, there is. I was filled with dream when it seemed thou understood but now I see thou dost not,” Tom became sad but I didn’t know why, he was filled with dream? What is that?

“Oh, I did understand. So, he lives there?”

“Yes, indeed, my old friend. Anything else thou would like to know?”

“Yes, is there anyone that I would be able to put in jail?”

“Thou art dead if thou attempt to put them in gaole. Thou mote be able to caest thyself into gaole, though. The Quene would not permit it, nor the President, nor the king, all sitting happily in the shake-down. The gaole is all fluey because nobody hath been there since 1890. Art thou crazy or what?”

“I’m desperate not crazy. Anyways, thank you for the help.”

“It’s always a pleasure to help thee, as thou hast help this old fellow, a couple of times,” Tom chuckled, maybe because he though he was speaking normally.

“Keep practicing that English, it’s still not normal enough,” said Marc as he and I went off. I heard chuckles from behind. I then whispered into Marc’s ear, “Are you happy? Now, can __thou__ explain to me what you were talking about?”

Marc laughed and started explaining. When we finally arrived at the hotel we decided that we would search for Dino tomorrow.

The next day and envelope was at my door. I got it and opened it. It seemed to be from Dino. Inside were some photos of… Tom and Marc’s death! There was a message from Dino. It said, “Hello, brother. Please listen to me before you tear this envelope to pieces. I did not do this. Neither did I kill my girlfriend. I am not permitted to visit you, but I want to. My boss is controlling everything I do and I’m scared but I promise you, brother, that I will get out of this organization! Then, we’ll go back to Barcelona, and inform the police about this. Then, we’ll inform the French police, then the American. All of them! We will stop this organization from killing anybody anymore!”

It did not say who it was from but II knew it was Dino’s. For logic, and for intuition. I felt happy and sad. Calm and enraged. There was a big mix of feelings inside me. I decided to stay in the hotel for the whole day, and that day, all I did was watch TV and shave (which I urgently needed). The next day would be the chosen day.

The next day, I got up. I made myself some coffee and stared at the newspaper. Thanks to it I found out that… Dino had committed suicide! It seemed like suicide, but the mafia had done something (for sure). I was enraged while I read this, tearing the paper into pieces. I knew who had done that, so I called the police. I was hoping to find someone like Marc. While I dialed the number I heard a shot, and then I fell engulfed in darkness. The last thing I saw was a glimpse of my own blood pouring out of my forehead and the boss of the Vongola family at the door, carrying my Glock Pistol. Then, the darkness completely covered me and I could feel no more, but finally I was in peace without so many deaths surrounding me, but mine. STORY ENDS

I did'nt really like it: It was to long and i could'nt realy understand it

= =

** Story and Content **
**Starting - March 29 (2009):** 1. Think of plot—is it original? (If an adaptation, is it creative or interesting to you?) What suggestions do you have for the author(s)? It is a very interesting plot, that I found compelling, funny and captivating at the same time. It is obvious you were greatly inspired by Italian mafia stories, but you added in interesting details that made the story worthwile.

2. Think about problems that the characters face. Are there complications that add enough suspense, tension, or interest? Is there a climax that satisfies you? Is the resolution satisfying? What could be added or changed? Your story had a lot of suspense and the problems he was up against, such as libereating his brother, were...enjoyable. I think it would have helped if you put in something to do with mafia traditions, such as Xavi finding a death threat from one of the gangsters.

3. Think of characterization—are the characters life-like? Are characters likable and enjoyable? Do we get a good sense of character from many of these: description, dialogue, narrator's opinion, discussion from other characters, the character’s own actions? The characters were definitely real and life-like, but Xavis...was eccentric.

4. Think of imagery and details. Do they help you //see// and //hear// and //experience// the story? What details would you like to see in the next revision of the story? They really do. I felt like I was there in the police station, the description of all the papers with the word mafia on them, the lazy policemen...But it would have helped if you had put more detail in Xavi´s death and fight.

5. What areas of the story need the most improvement? What suggestions do you have for the author ? I suggest that you make, if you have another mafia story, that you make the characters have more...humane emotions...because Xavi REALLY needs those.

Edited by BF-Sam

** Story and Content **
**Starting - March 29 (2009):** 1. Think of plot—is it original? (If an adaptation, is it creative or interesting to you?) What suggestions do you have for the author(s)?

2. Think about problems that the characters face. Are there complications that add enough suspense, tension, or interest? Is there a climax that satisfies you? Is the resolution satisfying? What could be added or changed?

3. Think of characterization—are the characters life-like? Are characters likable and enjoyable? Do we get a good sense of character from many of these: description, dialogue, narrator's opinion, discussion from other characters, the character’s own actions?

4. Think of imagery and details. Do they help you //see// and //hear// and //experience// the story? What details would you like to see in the next revision of the story?

5. What areas of the story need the most improvement? What suggestions do you have for the author ?

** Story and Content **
**Starting - March 29 (2009):** 1. Think of plot—is it original? (If an adaptation, is it creative or interesting to you?) What suggestions do you have for the author(s)?Tooo long dont like it at all

2. Think about problems that the characters face. Are there complications that add enough suspense, tension, or interest? Is there a climax that satisfies you? Is the resolution satisfying? What could be added or changed? I had no interest 3. Think of characterization—are the characters life-like? Are characters likable and enjoyable? Do we get a good sense of character from many of these: description, dialogue, narrator's opinion, discussion from other characters, the character’s own actions?

4. Think of imagery and details. Do they help you //see// and //hear// and //experience// the story? What details would you like to see in the next revision of the story?

5. What areas of the story need the most improvement? What suggestions do you have for the author ?