gah.  i already started on this once, got halfway through when the power
blinked out.  happy day.

here's some comments.  ignore them if you want to.  hell, if you want, get a
group of your friends to come and play duck-duck-duck-goose with me.  only
instead of me running around the group whacking people on the head, everybody
would whack ME on the head, while yelling obsceneties.

wait, that's not like duck-duck-duck-goose at all.  nevermind.

----- Original Message -----
From: "Sam Vilsmeier" <syp104@email.psu.edu>
To: "FFML (E-mail)" <ffml@anifics.com>
Sent: Tuesday, April 30, 2002 10:17 PM
Subject: [FFML] [Fanfict][R.5/SM][1st Draft]Awkward Consequences: Chapter 1

It was light, the day had come. Once more into the breach. Hotaru looked at

her clock. 6:25. Close enough, time to get up and face the world.

Okay... originally, I addressed this further on, but might as well say it
here: this isn't immediately clear that she's been up all night.  Instead, she
could have simply woken up before her alarm went off.  So you might want to
clarify a little bit.

She arose from her bed and turned to her closet. She was running her daily

routine, she had to continue on as if there was nothing wrong. If she acted
different from the norm the others would realize something was wrong, and if
they knew something was wrong then they would eventually find out. She had to
figure things out before it was too late. She had time, just not enough.

find out what.  --what was wrong.

She removed a uniform, the colors of Mugen Academy. What would happen to her

school life. She fought hard, studied hard, to get into the school. What would
happen to her education.

a uniform with the colors...  school life?  ...education?  --questions need
question marks.

Hotaru's train of though was disturbed by the shrill cry of her alarm clock.

6:30, time for all good girls to get up and face the day. She quickly turned
it off and left toward the bath.

6:30.  Time for all...

toward<->towards.  not sure which is correct.

She exited her room and carefully walked toward the bathroom. Good, no one

in the halls. No one in the halls to see the dried tears that framed her face.

toward<->towards.

She closed the door. Time to wash up, to cover the evidence of her sadness

and tears. Smile, Smile, always smile. A smile was a mask of happiness. If you
smile then people would not question, and search for the truth before you were
ready. She ran the water and washed her face.

Smile, smile, always smile.  If she smiled then people would... before she was
ready.

In a cascade of soap and water she wiped away the tracts left by her tears.

She wiped her face clear and glanced in the mirror. All she saw was her self.

tracks.  tracts are something else.

was herself.  --this indicates body and whole more than 'self' does, imo.
self usually seems to indicate something psychological, some mental aspect of
a person, which wouldn't necessarily be reflected in a mirror.

Kawaii. She had been called Kawaii. Was it true, or was it a falsehood said

to throw her off balance. She couldn't see how it was true. She was short,
bony, and flat-chested. Her hair was too thin and she didn't have enough color
in her skin. How could she possibly be cute? Who could find a sickly girl like
her attractive? That was a question to ask when the time was right, but not
now.

japanese here, for no reason.  there is an english equivalent of the word
kawaii, so use it.

given to throw her off balance?  --sounds better, question makr.

Right now she had to worry about her face. The tears themselves were gone,

but she still looked like hell. Her eyes were puffy and she had rings under
her eyes. She would have to do. She did not have the time for makeup.

It would have to do.

For a moment she felt her stomach wretch, the feeling of vertigo and nausea

that had been plaguing her regularly for this last accursed month.

wretch, or wrench?  i'm not sure which is usually used.  wretch is something
used for insulting people, wrench can either be an object or a verb.

last, accursed, month.  --sounds better.

In moments she was worshiping the porcelain goddess with the enthusiasm of a

zealot. As she hurled Hotaru wondered how could something that taste so go
going down be so nasty going back up.

hurled, Hotaru...

what did she eat?  at first i thought this was some kinda, 'just gave a
blow-job, gotta puke it up now' type of thing... no idea why that comes to
mind.  heh.

Hotaru removed her head from the toilet bowl and sighed in dejection. It is

only going to get worse from here. Why did the kami hate her so. She had to be
cursed. It was not possible for someone to have worse luck then she*.

from there.... hate her so?

than she.  --comparison, so uses than, not then.

With a gag she spit out the vomit that was lingering in her mouth. With an

irritated grunt she opened the medicine cabinet and withdrew her toothbrush
and some toothpaste. After squeezing a hearty helping of the mint flavored goo
onto her brush she began the task of ridding her mouth of what vile flavor
remained.

why would she gag?  the gagging made me think she was puking again, or had
something blocking her mouth.

mint-flavored.

When she completed her brushing, she quickly changed into her uniform.

Stopping only to throw her PJs into the hamper, she proceeded down the stairs.
Smile, smile, the less they know the better you are.

the better of she was.

When she got to the kitchen, she noted that all of the outers were present.

Michiru was finishing up on the cooking, Haruka was sitting back waiting for
breakfast, while Setsuna was drinking her ritual cup of black coffee and was
reading the newspaper.

Outers.

"Good morning Hotaru-chan!" said Michiru shattering Hotaru's train of

thought.

morning, Hotaru!" said Michiru, shattering...

no need for the 'chan' bit.  if it's not necessary, you really shouldn't add
in japanse.

"I'm jut fine Michiru-mama," replied Hotaru. To prove her speculative state

of happiness Hotaru smiled. The smile was a wonderful example of poor acting.
A large, plastic Chelicerae Cat grin to give emphases a plastic mood.

just fine, Michiru-mama," --'just', comma.

happiness, Hotaru smiled.  --think so, not sure.

Cheshire Cat grin... --guessing this is a mistype, if not, no idea what it's
referring to.

Of course Michiru did not buy her act for a second. She took a look at her

adopted daughter. Making a mental inventory she did not like what she saw.
Greenish tint to the skin, a sign of nausea. Red puffy eyes, like she's been
crying. Black rings under her eyes, looks like she didn't get much sleep.
"Hotaru-chan, what's wrong?"

daughter, making a mental inventory.  She did not like...

eyes, looked like she...

eh... i'm about to pass out.  i have to get up for work in five hours.  i'll
finish this after work tommorrow, most likely.  :)


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