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Maeve
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 PostPosted: Wed Nov 17, 2010 3:54 pm Reply with quote        
This will be the thread where you'll be allowed to post your entry for the Writing Challenge. ONLY ENTRIES FOR THE CHALLENGE SHOULD BE POSTED HERE!!! Comments, chat and everything else goes in the challenge's main thread, or wherever they belong on the site.

When you want to submit an entry for a challenge, please use the following form:
Code:
I'm submitting something for *insert month and year*!

[b]Title:[/b]
[b]Themes:[/b]
[b]Personal Goal(s):[/b]
[b]Entry:[/b]
[b]Additional information:[/b] ((if needed, otherwise just erase that line))

Athilea Majiri



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 PostPosted: Fri Dec 31, 2010 10:39 pm Reply with quote        
I'm submitting something for December 2010!

Title: A Letter From The Grave
Themes: Book(s), Time, Cold
Personal Goal(s): I wanted to be descriptive, and give a sense of loss.
Entry:
The pale grey stone and dark wood panels that made up the walls and floors of the Halasian house did not look as thought they should offer as much warmth as they did. In some places the wood had been carved intricately, while other areas were left bare. The same was true for the library, though the walls could barely be seen for the dark stone bookshelves and tapestries that lined them. In one corner of the room was a hearth with a blazing fire. The center of the room held an ornate green and white rub with a black marble desk and chair sat atop it.
A woman sat at the desk, her face a mask of concentration. Red hair was pulled back into an intricate braid, though long bangs hung over her eyes. Te red, tribal tattoos on her face and pointed ears marked her as a Wood Elf. Green eyes seemed to study the large book that was opened on the desk, but her full attention was on the old, worn parchment in her hands.
What she read had drained the color from her already pale skin. Athilea looked as though she had seen a ghost. It was a letter from a husband that she knew to be years dead. The parchment and envelope themselves appeared to have gone through a fire to reach her. That, couple with the hastily scrawled words, left her with little hope though.
Athilea,
I do not have much time, and I can only hope that this will find you well. I do not mean to worry you, but I will likely be dead by the time this finds you. I could not die without telling you one last time that I love you.
Caroth

Shock and the despair of being lonely left her feeling cold. For a time, however short and fanciful, she had hoped that the letter would show that he had somehow survived the Orcs ceaseless onslaught. For the first time in years she wept over her husbands violent end.
Additional information: This is a fan fiction for Everquest 2 of my Wood Elf Ranger.[/i]
Breaker-Lim



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 PostPosted: Sun Jan 02, 2011 10:22 pm Reply with quote        
I'm submitting something for January of 2011.

Title: A Moonlit Wanderer
Themes: Blanket, Music, and Star
Personal Goal(s): I tried to make a moment special, and contrast it with a moment that isn't so special.
Entry:
Akira looked down at her sun-darkened legs in the moonlight. Even though she spent most of her time in the blistering heat, that white orb in the sky still managed to make her look pale. It was like it was washing away the last ten years, leaving her back home with her mother, where she was happy.
All around her, there was silence. It crept into the valleys and through the sand, making it shuffle and tilt in the woman’s vision. It was broken only by the occasional howl of an animal far off in the distance.
Closing her eyes, Akira let herself melt into the ground, blanketing it with her body as she sought out the noises. Here, there was a cricket, about to be eaten. There, there was a coyote settling down for another lonely night. Akira sighed, and then headed home, her shadowy form slipping through the cracks and down the channels until she was where she wanted to be.
Her body slowly materialized, still glimmering with the last of the moon. Outside of this room, she could hear the drunken lyrics of some old tune echoing through the base. Pembroke and Amie were both out there, and she could hear them laughing loudly as they passed the door.
Akira turned her eyes to the bed and then stepped forward, her footfalls barely making a noise as she reached out to touch her lover’s face. He smiled in his sleep, and the world lit up like the fiery star itself had come out. At least, that was what Akira thought, although if he knew she was sneaking out in the middle of a war every night, he probably wouldn’t have been smiling. She slowly climbed into bed, covering herself with the warm blankets and hugging Dante from behind as she finally felt tired enough to rest.
When her breathing slowed and her body turned heavy, Dante turned around and put an arm over the girl. He tugged the strands of hair out of her mouth as she chewed on them in her sleep, and smirked to himself as he saw her twitch ever so slightly in her dreams. Then, satisfied that the war hadn’t taken his star away from him, he kissed her goodnight.
Outside, the party raged on.

Additional information: This is an attempt to flesh out some previously-made characters, and to give them personality even if this particular section isn't actually in my storyline. How the characters know each other isn't very important for this piece, and should be self-evident.
Garnett-Remie



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 PostPosted: Fri Jan 07, 2011 10:18 pm Reply with quote        
I’m submitting for January, 2011

Title: Fake Moons and Child’s Play
Themes: Blanket, Music, Star
Personal Goal: To convey a feeling of displacement and being trapped in frightful constraints.

Entry:
There’s something special about stars. They’re always there, even if you can’t see them for the fog or smog or the clouds, sailing with infinite laziness across the inky blue-black of the sky so often called a blanket and sea.
She misses that. There are no stars here, nor a sun or clouds. Not even fog or the smog that is humanity’s waste. The only thing to be found in the sky of this place is its pseudo-moon –pale and haunted, ominous and desolate. All that is offered in its sleek and sickly glow is madness.
This is not where she belongs. She was never meant to be trapped like a rat in this cage of bleeding stone walls. An amazon is what she is; a proud and wild warrior woman, meant to be owned by no one and allied only to her sisters in battle. Her soul is swayed by the music that is stomping feet, clashing swords, and howling wind. Not the last, desperate screams of mutilated innocence, the pleading of minds on the cusp of breaking, or the quietly shouting ravings of those who spent too long in the light of the false moon.
He’s at her door; she can hear his lunatic’s giggle even before the barrier that keeps her as safe as she is imprisoned slides away.
Red. The color of blood, the color of fire, of passion and love, lust and –as she has recently found out- tormented souls. It is also the color of his constantly fever-bright eyes that care only for destruction, havoc, and the manipulation that results in either.
He knows even before he enters that she’s full of fear. That’s good. What is fearful is, in his experience, obedient. The demon king doesn’t want her to be happy; he wants her to do a job. Happiness is fleeting. The results of what she will do for him will last a lifetime. Or, at least, it will last the pitiful span of a human life.
Her hand is trembling as she takes the one that he has offered to stand her up. He doesn’t allow her to slip away, moving his grasp to her wrist so as to drag her along behind him like an excited child, eager to show his friend an exciting new play thing.
And he is. Except she isn't the friend. She's the toy –the marionette about to dance at the will of her master’s finger tips. He hasn’t even gotten to the play mate yet, if he ever had one at all.

Additional Info: Apologies for the morbidity of this, it wasn't planned to be that way. I realized what it was likely to become somewhere in the second paragraph and that's where I found my goal.
The woman is my character, Lynn while the demon belongs to my fabulous friend with whom I am currently writing a story.
Several creative liberties were taken for the sake of mood and metaphor
Sameth_Delaetus



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 PostPosted: Wed Jun 22, 2011 9:08 pm Reply with quote        
I'm submitting something for June 2011!

Title: Life Goes On
Themes: fight, innocence, story
Personal Goal(s):
-longer than 1k (1.4 Happy)
-want at least a part of it to tug at peoples' heartstrings (lemme know, folks!)
Entry:
Jack sat there on the couch, slouched back against the cushions, as his brothers invaded Kim’s kitchen. He bit his lip, then glanced at the girl next to him. She returned his regard, still pale but much better than she appeared on their porch earlier. He paused, his eyes flicking to his brothers.

“Does it get easier?”

Kim, who had resumed watching her pets play, locked eyes with him again, startled. After a moment, the unasked words filtered through.

“I’m not gonna lie.” She murmured, a soft sigh escaping her. “There are days where everything’s okay, in spite of it...but there’ll be those moments, when you see something she woulda liked, or hear something that woulda made her laugh...” Kim paused, eyes over bright. “An’ you’ll think, ‘I gotta tell Ma when I get home’ or ‘that’ll be her Christmas present’...then you realize...” Her grin was small and bitter. “Those are the worst moments.”

He closed his eyes, willing the burning sensation building up behind them to go away.

“There’s also the times when you sit there and just wonder why...”

Jack turned away from her, from the understanding couldn’t take right now, to the pets locked in ‘combat’ on the rug. If a tear or two escaped, neither of them commented.

“But there’s some times...some times when I swear my mom’s laughing at me, wherever she is.”

He looked up in time to catch an even smaller, but bittersweet grin.

“I’ll sit there and I’ll figure something out--anything...and then I’ll realize it’s what she’d been telling me all along.” A soft snort accompanied this statement. “Thing’s woulda been so much easier if I’d realized back then...”

He looked at her--really looked at her. Her eyes were still over bright, signaling the possibility of tears, but the twist of her lips was nothing short of a grin.

“I don’t...”

“Ya don’t what, fairy?” Bobby interrupted as he returned with a steaming plate of food and a bottle of beer.

Kim rolled her eyes at him; some things never changed. “You will.” She murmured to Jack as they headed to the kitchen to get some food of their own.

“He’ll what?” Angel questioned, mystified, as he passed the two on his way back to the living room.

“Who the fuck cares?” Bobby grumbled as he turned on a hockey game.

Jerry, who entered not long after Angel, smirked over the rim of his beer as he watched the two in the kitchen. He was still smirking when the two returned with their own food and drinks.

“...what?” Kim asked as she took her previous seat.

“Nothin’.”

All four stared at Jerry, who just shook his head, smirk still in place.

“...Ma was just right, is all.”

Jack, about to open his own beer, lost his grip on it; it landed with a muffled thump on the carpet before rolling towards the puppy and kitten play-fighting in front of the t.v. Both skittered away from it, then approached to bat at or chew on it when it stopped.

The humans in the house stared at Jack, who, in turn, stared at Kim.

“What?” She asked after several moments of silence.

“You--” Jack began.

“Weren’t kidding?” An arched brow and the smallest of smiles accompanied her comment.

“The fuck?” Bobby growled as Jack retrieved his beer from the pests--er, pets.

“Convo from when you guys were in the kitchen.” Kim supplied as she rescued Jack’s food from the curious duo, who had scrambled over the moment he retrieved his beer. The two now sat at Jack’s feet, staring up at him and his food as though demanding this uninvited guest give them their cut.

“What was Ma right about?” Angel questioned once his mouth was empty.

Jerry grinned. “Well, lemme ask something first. You guys talked every day while he was in New York, right?”

“No...” Kim replied, wondering where the hell this was going. “We texted occasionally, just to keep up with what was goin’ on. An’ I went to one of his shows, once.”

Jerry’s grin widened. “You realize that’s more contact than all three of us’ve had with him for the past four years, right?”

Kim turned her attention to the man sitting beside her; he was resolutely focused on his beer.

“‘We talk’, hm?” She questioned acidly.

“Who said it was any of your business?” Bobby interrupted.

“It’s not.” The girl snapped back. “But I don’t like being lied to.”

Jack swallowed his mouthful. “I didn’t want to be--”

“Questioned? Lectured? Bitched at?”

“...yeah.”

“So you thought that the person who gets all three of those from her family--daily--an’ hates it was gonna turn an’ do it to you.”

The other three stared at the silent Jack, waiting for his rebuttal.

“Or did you think I was gonna judge you?”

He stiffened.

She shook her head and went back to eating.

“You tellin’ us you’re some kinda saint or something?” Bobby cut in when it became obvious that Jack would say nothing.

“No. But I did spend the better part of my first year out of high school avoiding my family--most of ‘em live in Detroit--because they all thought that an 18 year old shouldn’t live alone.” She paused and took a sip of water. “So, I’d have no place to judge from. I’ve run from my family. I also know what it’s like to feel like you’re too busy to just pick up a phone an’ call ‘em...an’ I live blocks, not miles, away.”

Bobby scowled at her but went for seconds. Angel, after a nudge from Jerry, followed him into the kitchen.

“...I didn’t want you to worry.”

She looked at him; his posture was stiff, his eyes locked with the ground, his food and beer ignored.

“Jack...you’re in New York. I know Detroit’s no cakewalk--hell, I should know that from our childhood, let alone the three years I’ve spent as a rookie cop--but New York is just as dangerous. I worried anyway...not ‘cuz I think you’re stupid or can’t handle yourself...just ‘cuz it’s dangerous.”

Blue eyes surveyed her; she gave him a small smile. Some of the tension drained from his form as he resumed eating and took a sip of his beer.

“You kids kiss and make up?” Angel questioned as he came back from the kitchen.

“Shut up.” Jack grumbled through a mouthful of food.

“Guess I can’t call him fairy anymore.” Bobby added as he reclaimed his seat; Jerry just grinned.

Kim stared. “Why do I have the feeling I should be wary of that grin?”

“He’s harmless.” Jack muttered.

“Now I remember...” She groaned. “Don’t you start, Jerry.”

His grin only widened.

“I am so royally screwed.” Kim groused as she rose to take her plate to the kitchen. “Not. One. Word.” She snarled at Jerry, who cracked up.

“What the hell?” Bobby growled.

Jerry ducked the dishtowel that was launched in his general direction. “Not yet, but you will be!”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, I’m married--” Jerry ducked another dishtowel. “--and I think Jack’d take exception to that, yanno.”

Angel and Bobby smirked at Jack, who coughed and spat out his mouthful of beer before he choked on it.

Kim collected the towels, threw them towards the laundry room, then returned to her seat. When she sat down, Jack slipped his arms around her and glared at Jerry.

Jerry cracked up; Bobby and Angel gaped; Kim blinked, then recalled that that was how he used to react when he had things he thought people would try to steal from him. He would hold them close and glare at whoever approached.

She grinned. “Guess I’m a bit big to fit under your coat, huh?”

He shrugged slightly, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Told ya.” Jerry stated.

“What?!” Bobby growled.

“Ma was right. She always said those two had a thing for each other.”

Angel grinned. “I remember we always thought she was nuts...’cuz whenever any of us showed up to pick Jack up after school, the two of you always ignored each other...”

“That’s ‘cuz we didn’t want you guys to figure out where he ran off to when he wanted some peace an’ quiet.” Kim replied, leaning against Jack.

“Crafty little...” Angel grumbled as Bobby glared.

“So you’re the one he was always with when he wasn’t with us?”

“Not always. Jack had other friends, yanno!”

Jack’s eyes widened slightly, then he grinned at her instant defense of him. Bobby glowered, Angel shook his head and Jerry smirked.

“Also. I’ve been meaning to ask...what happened to the tongue ring?”

It was Bobby’s turn to smirk.

“I took it out.” Jack muttered flatly.

She patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry; Bobby’s just jealous he didn’t get one.”

Angel and Jerry snickered; Bobby flipped her the bird; Jack shook his head at her, grinning slightly.


Additional information: This be fanfiction, yar Happy It's AU from the movie Four Brothers...and it takes place after the shootout at the house~
Also, language...eesh. I had to edit it a tad to get rid of some. I'm fairly certain we're allowed to curse, but for the one guy to be in-charrie, he kinda curses a lot D:
Hehehe... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yhzN02NwsPU Deleted scene; explains the tongue ring bit~
Malverne
Writer


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 PostPosted: Wed Sep 07, 2011 8:58 pm Reply with quote        
I'm submitting something for September of 2011!

Title: Hermes' Awkward Teenage Years
Themes: Mystic, Shoes, Test
Personal Goal(s): Actually finish it...I'm horrible at finishing things
Entry:
"Alright, I got this," Hermes whispered to himself. He looked out at the obstacle course in front of him, glanced down at his shoes which flapped lazily at him, and gulped. When Zeus had told him that the gods needed a messenger, Hermes had just been looking for some more money. No one said anything about passing a test! He was already in charge of a bunch of other things too, but that stupid thievery thing always gets everyone down.
'oh Hermes,' they say, 'He steals things, right?' Yep, that's Hermes. He stole a freaking toothbrush!
Flashback
Hermes and Apollo were swimming in the waters of the sea, finding a shark for Poseidon. The god of the seas had caught Hermes in his waters, fishing. Poseidon started to get angry, but Apollo somehow managed to sooth the sea god. As payment, Poseidon demanded that the two boys catch the shark that had been wounded by sailors, and put it out of its misery.
"Can't we heal it?" Apollo asked.
"No," Poseidon snapped, "It is a beast of the hunt. It cannot accept mercy, and it must heal on its own. If that is not possible, it is kinder to kill the creature." Poseidon saw the look on Apollo's face, and his own wrinkled visage creased with understanding.
"It is not a young beast," he said, "It has lived its life. Killing it is not an evil thing. Now go, find the shark, and sacrifice it in my name. ANd no prophecies!"
The pair had combed the coastline of Greece for days, searching for the wounded beast, and finding nothing. They decided to search the open ocean, and eventually found a blood trail from the shark. They followed it, and Hermes caught sight of it. He thought that perhaps he could train such creatures to keep Poseidon's kelp farms under the sea, it was so strong.
The shark had a large spear in its side, and despite the obvious pain it was in, it still swam on in search of food. Hermes could tell it hadn't eaten in days, but Poseidon told him not to give the shark mercy. Together, he and Apollo captured and killed the shark, and offered a sacrifice to Poseidon, as he instructed.
Poseidon appeared before them, and he was not happy.
"It is a sad day when one of my subjects must be killed like this," he said, and the shark's remains turned to foam, and washed into the sea.
"Go home boys," Poseidon ordered, "Your father has planned a feast, and you two are late." Hermes and Apollo ran to Olympus immediately, and waiting for them was indeed a massive feast. The two boys slid into their thrones without a second word, and after a small ceremony, tucked in. Hermes spotted his favorite dish, just across the table, and reached for it.
Suddenly, it was gone. Hermes looked around wildly, trying to see who took the food.
Ares was grinning at him, chewing the dish that belonged to Hermes. Hermes glared, but did nothing. Despite his speed and athletic prowess, Hermes was no match for Ares in a fight. He'd have to use his guile.
"Phew," he said, "what's that smell?" The one downside to the food that Hermes loved was that it had a disgusting odor, and left the eater with horrible breath for days. Ares obviously didn't know this, and blanched when he smelled his breath. Ares didn't breath out for the rest of the feast, and was mightily embarassed, but Hermes wasn't done yet.
That night, Hermes took Ares' toothbrush. Ares raged and stormed, and took the matter to Zeus. The thunderstorms that night were magnificent to any human brave enough to go outside.
Flashback End
Zeus gave a slight cough, and raised an eyebrow.
"Hermes," he said, his voice rumbling like thunder, "If you think you can't do this, just say so."
"No!" Hermes' voice sounds weak after Zeus', but he didn't care. "I'm the god of athletic contests. This is nothing!" With a click of his heels, Hermes floated into the air. Zeus raised his hand, and shot a bolt of lightning into the sky, miles away. Hermes waited, tense as a bowstring.
Thunder clapped, and Hermes was off.
He darted through tunnels, flew over walls, zoomed around corners. He leaped across pits of flame, and ducked the flying arrows. At one point, he rose into the air, and barreled through a hoop that looked like it was the size of a watermelon. Hermes ran through the air, aiming for a cloud of mines floating in the air.
This was the difficult part. Pure precision and patience. The mines, small bug robots built by Hephaestus, buzzed in the air, moving slowly, would explode at the slightest impact. Hermes made tiny and precise movements through the air, avoiding the bugs completely. He spared a glance at his father, but Zeus was frowning. Hermes wasn't going fast enough.
Hermes' brain suddenly though of another way to get through the cloud. He backed out the way he'd come, and ignored the surprised noises of his family. He pulled his caduceus from his robes, and threw it at the bugs.
One explosion sounded, and set off another, and another. Hermes darted through the smoke, flying through the tunnel left by the explosions, and passed the finish line.

"Well?" He asked, "How'd I do?" Athena was rolling her eyes, but Apollo was grinning widely. Hermes' cheating was always a source of amusement.

"Fine, you can have the job," Zeus said, knowing that whatever test he threw at Hermes, the boy would find some stupid way around it.
[/b]

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