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| Writing Contest 01; Prompt -- "A murder" | |
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| Topic Started: Mar 13 2009, 04:40 PM (329 Views) | |
| +Hollie | Mar 13 2009, 04:40 PM Post #1 |
Resident Brit
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First contest yay. Entries should be between 300 - 1000 words. More or less is acceptable. No poetry please. You do not have to include FE characters, this is more general writing (at the same time, if you want to include an FE character be my guest). Please try to keep your entries, y'know, readable, but I'm not going to go all grammar nazi on you and I doubt anyone else is either. The prompt this time is "A murder". PM me your piece by 18th March. Some ideas to get you thinking: -He murdered my favourite song! -Staged murder (for a play or film) -Faked death -Investigation -Mercy killing? You don't have to include any sort of murder in the actual writing if you don't want to. In fact, you could probably get away with pretty much anything so long as it has some connection. No random kitties, Tiara. Rules: -Try not to be too explicit. Use your judgement. -Unless I can't get to you on the due date, late entries won't be accepted. -You aren't disqualified from future rounds if you drop out or whatever. -Any genre is acceptable unless stated otherwise. -Don't be too srs bsns. This is just for fun.  Good luck.
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Known as Haar on Brand of Flame. Bitch.  Formerly Margaret Thatcher, Aleksandr | |
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| Tiaro | Mar 13 2009, 10:08 PM Post #2 |
 
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Aw. You've made me a sad panda, Hollie-lollie.  I'll do what I can. In fact, I'll probably be thinking of it at work all tomorrow evening. XP |
Brawl code: 1118-0273-4847 Guess I played it too well? http://heather-kaithan.mybrute.com For the lulz | |
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| Sentenal | Mar 13 2009, 11:07 PM Post #3 |
When you can't make them see the light, make them feel the heat.
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I'm in 
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| Kovu | Mar 14 2009, 01:48 AM Post #4 |
Judge/Veteran/One of oldest members/Never been a global mod cause staff is racist against furries
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Rawr. Death! It shall be done. I'm in, and I'll try to avoid rolling RNs. ~ Kovu |
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| Asvel | Mar 15 2009, 09:25 AM Post #5 |
Grandiloquent Panjandrum
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Interesting idea. I might join if I get hit by inspiration, but don't count on it. |
Asvel: The other forum pedo. fabulous banner by genn
Favorite Artist and Favorite Spriter Winter '09 :D | |
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| Wirtjr | Mar 15 2009, 09:28 AM Post #6 |
The Train Conductor to Hell
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Workin' on a story now, should have it by the end of the day. |
 Formerly Wirtjr, Denny Crane, Freddy Krueger, Rodney McKay, Bruce Campbell and Ash Williams
Brawl Code: 2793-4775-6845 | |
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| Kovu | Mar 15 2009, 09:46 AM Post #7 |
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Judge/Veteran/One of oldest members/Never been a global mod cause staff is racist against furries
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I'll write mine up Tuesday night. After I take care of RPG obligations. ~ Kovu |
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| Tripz | Mar 15 2009, 10:30 AM Post #8 |
Faucking Lethe in cat form^
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I guess, I'll join.  Hopefully, now I can come up with an idea.
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| Formely known as:Tripz, Sailor Pluto | |
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| +Hollie | Mar 17 2009, 11:44 AM Post #9 |
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Resident Brit
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Just a reminder to get your entries in asap. |
Known as Haar on Brand of Flame. Bitch. Formerly Margaret Thatcher, Aleksandr | |
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| Kovu | Mar 18 2009, 12:41 PM Post #10 |
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Judge/Veteran/One of oldest members/Never been a global mod cause staff is racist against furries
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Turns out I got pulled out of the house. Unfortunately my schedule won't allow any free time for this until Friday night/Saturday morning. My schedule fails, I know. If that's too late, I'll have to drop out. I hope we can be flexible here~ ~ Kovu |
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| +Hollie | Mar 18 2009, 12:45 PM Post #11 |
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Resident Brit
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Yeah, okay, you can have the extension. My artwork needs some attention so I'll be busy myself. |
Known as Haar on Brand of Flame. Bitch. Formerly Margaret Thatcher, Aleksandr | |
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| +Hollie | Mar 22 2009, 06:53 AM Post #12 |
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Resident Brit
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Sorry for the delay. In the end, we had entries from: -Sent -Reaver -Tripz -Kamai -THR (one time only) You'll have to guess which one is which. Story A You called me an ignorant pig, first time we met. October 9th, 1999 "Lout", "Idiot", "Fucking Sadist", "Pig", "Asshole", and "Fartface" on every subsequent time. We'd spent years together. Inseparable in public, inseparable in bed. I called you fat. I called you ugly. I tortured you every night, hoping, hoping and desiring to break you. Break you so that I could claim what was left as my own. October 9th 2001, our anniversary. I don't remember much. Apparently, my gift to you was a handle of bourbon, mostly drank by me on the drive home. The words, "Fucking alcoholic" "Stupid Bitch" and various other names were thrown, a lifetime's worth of arguments ignited the air between us, and finally, my bottle broke itself on your face. Ah, I remember it a little clearer now. The shards of coloured glass flying through the air, the shocked look on both of our faces, the trickles of blood mixing with trickles of tear down your face. I remember it clearly now. I wish I didn't. We had spent the rest of the night in silence. I wish to God now, that I had hit you harder than that. Maybe then you would've left me. October 9th, 2002, our anniversary again. A whole year of cheating on you, a whole year of spending what little money I made on alcohol and cigarettes. The flat we shared now reduced to rubble, with cigarette burns adorning every piece of furniture. Caked blood stains from the more savage fights painted the walls. Those walls still scream at me. I hear every word we'd ever shared scream at me from those walls. I left your noose as a memorandum. Still hanging from the pipeline overhead, swinging, gently swinging. Your gift to me that night, was coming home to find you hanging from our ceiling, a note just beneath your feet. "You drove me to it." Your eyes were still bulging, you were still struggling for life. You were still suffering. I reached out, and placed my hands on your hips, placing a kiss on your belly. Then with all my might, I pulled downwards. October 9th, 2004. It was supposed to be our anniversary. I tried this long to live without you. I tried to fill myself with someone else...anyone I could find. No avail. Nothing left. Still, all I can think of is how I love you, and how I'm too fucked up for you, and how you're too fucked up for me. So here I stand now, that selfsame noose around my neck. I left another note on the ground next to yours. "Fuck off." All it takes is a gentle kick. Story B I walked into my dark one room apartment. I stared out beyond the window at the moon. I flipped on the light switch and looked around. I saw a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. I smiled as I poured myself a shot. I’ve always had a few questions about life. I stared at the gun in my holster and the bible by my bed. The money was on my bed, just as planned. What was Judas’ greatest sin? I took the first shot and opened the bible. Was it his betrayal? I drew the gun and raised it to the side of my head. My hand was shaking, trembling with fear. Or was it his suicide? I remember the days of our innocence; three years ago I joined the cops. Me and my best bud, Alex. We met when we were in cop school, the training was brutal, but we both enjoyed it tremendously. I recall the day when I was standing by the track, just staring. Alex walked up to me and then handed me a water bottle. As I grabbed it, I asked him that same question. “Was Judas’ greatest sin his betrayal or suicide?” That question always bothered me. “Does it matter?” Alex replied calmly. “What?” “I’m not Jesus and you’re not Judas. Best not to think about that type of stuff, just focus on our job, on our duty” I was astounded on how one could be so determined, so willing to just do his duty. I carried it with me on everything I did, every activity. Just focus, forget about everything else. When I would have to do something dangerous, I would just choose not to think about it. ‘I can breathe later’ is what I would always say. One day, I had a falling out with the cops, that’s when he came to me, Salvatore. We were both at a graveyard. He was staring at a small grave. He turned to me, and smiled. “It’s of my mother. Great woman” “Oh?” “Yeah, really” “That’s nice” “Mm. Oh, hey” “What is it?” “If you ever need help, just ask me, the phone is 769-7995” “With what?” “Earning money. It isn’t everyday a cop is given an opportunity like this one” “You don’t mean…” “Yeah, I’m THAT Salvatore. So, how about it?” “Sure” That was the day I got involved with the mafia. I was to act as a mole, find out everything that the cops knew about Salvatore. One day, I was asked to prove my loyalty, to kill Alex. “I don’t want to” I said on the phone. “There’s money involved, we’ll offer protection too” the voice said calmly, calculated. “But…!” “But what? Don’t be scared, do it. Think of the money” Once again, I went and did my duty, ‘I can breathe later’ I told myself, but this time, I felt a bit uneasy. I called him up; we met on the rooftop of the ‘sunshine’ hotel that night. We faced each other and then, we started talking about our duty. “So, what’d you call me about?” he said as he slowly started to walk towards me. “You were wrong, you know” I said. “About what?” “I can breathe later. What’s the point in that, what’s the point in doing that, in having that patience?” “Well, I figure we’ll rise up the ranks” “Hmm?” “The cops are rather inefficient, but I figure, if I rise higher and higher, then eventually, I’ll be able to change it. Right?” “Yeah… but…” “but what?” “I’d rather have the money to breathe now” “What do you-” He was cut off by a quick thrust of the knife. He turned his head slowly towards me, I simply smiled, give him something to go to wherever one goes after death. After disposing of his body, I sat there and contemplated what I did. Was it really necessary? Three days later I walked into my dark one room apartment. I stared out beyond the window at the moon. I flipped on the light switch and looked around. I saw a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. I smiled as I poured myself a shot. I’ve always had a few questions about life. I stared at the gun in my holster and the bible by my bed. The money was on my bed, just as planned. What was Judas’ greatest sin? I took the first shot and opened the bible. Was it his betrayal? I drew the gun and raised it to the side of my head. My hand was shaking, trembling with fear. Or was it his suicide? Bang. Story C Guess who wrote this one. Once, there was a country full of Asian people in Japan. And they found this giant Egg. Scientist came around to study it, and it was good. They discovered many things about it. For instance, it was made of solid matter, and had a certain amount of stuff in it. And it was an egg. Then, these two little lolis appeared. Now, when I say" little lolis", I really mean little. They were like 6 inches tall or some shit. In a high pitched, cherpy voice, with an Australian accent, they say "We are the Rins, and we come from Infant Island! This egg belongs to the Guardian of the Island, Rockthra, who is a giant Moth-Pedophile-Monster. If you return the egg, Rockthra will protect you from Sojazilla!" And the Asian people of Japan were like, "Sojazilla? That nigga hasn't been seen since Air Kongy fought him!" And so they began to build a giant frying pan, as they wanted to eat scrambled eggs. Then Sojazilla appeared at the coast, at the same spot where he last fought Air Kongy. He was mad. That nigga bit him. So he starting punching buildings and shit, and blowing things up with his atomic breath. This caused the Asian people of Japan to decide "Hey, I'd much rather not be killed by Sojazilla, than I would like to have giant moth scrambled eggs." So they called up Rockthra and told him, so Rockthra flew to Japan to protect them from Sojazilla. Also, while they were waiting for Rockthra, the Japanese people started shooting electricity and tanks at Sojazilla, but for some reason (probably because Air Kongy isn't in this, and therefore they don't need to artificially weaken Sojazilla to make the fight fair), they didn't work, and Sojazilla just raped them all. And then Sojazilla attacked the Rockthra egg. He literally jumped on the egg and started to hump it, I SWEAR TO GOD. Then Rockthra arrived. Rockthra flew up to Sojazilla and grabbed his tail, and pulled him off. And then started kicking Sojazilla's head with his weak little moth legs. So Sojazilla decided to fire his Atomic Ray into Rockthra's face. Rockthra's face exploded, and he died. Sojazilla had murdered Rockthra. This caused the little eggs to hatch, and 2 little baby Rockthra larvae came out. One decided to be a little bitch, and bit Sojazilla's tail. Then Sojazilla killed that one. Sojazilla had murdered Rockthra larvae #1. The last remaining Rockthra Larvae started to spit web all over Sojazilla. Sojazilla called him a faggot, and then fell into the ocean because he was all wrapped up in shit. So then Rockthra Larvae returned to Infant Island, alive and not dead. Story D I am enamored with the moon, the hoary watchman of the sky. Most nights, nothing escapes the keen gaze of his lonely silver eye, resting eternally on his celestial perch as he silently watches the furtive acts of men. He fondly guards the lovers tangled in each other’s arms as they revel in the mirth of their youth, tacitly encourages the young girl to explore the nebulous cosmos with her small telescope and expansive imagination, and guides the whimsical as they sail away from life on a rolling sea of dreams. Weaving his spell, he sprinkles the earth with his luminous and everything feels perfect – surreal in the most beautiful way. But tonight, his luminescence does not reach our lonely planet. I wish to join him, to cover myself with his starry blanket and glide through galaxies with serene grace. To set my soul alight, to leap and bound effortlessly amongst through constellations, to slide on Saturn’s rings, to mirror the mysteries of the universe: I pine for it with every fiber of my body. If only I could drift forever around the perfect moon, sit within his crescent embrace, and learn the art of his capricious sorcery. If only. Yet, now, he cannot see my actions – cannot wave his wand and grant my wishes. I am chained to this realm, unable to defy her cruel realities. I stare longingly into the sky, hoping to see his pale silver reflection once again. But the only silver in the sky is my slender little dagger before it pierces my heart. Story E We all looked around the room. All six of our group looking for someone, as if we needed anyone to guide us anymore. Those five dreadful years dragged on from the day. I remember the day- in fact we all do- as if our minds are in replay. The day, the day all my family members were killed. And I still have to live with the guilt. The guilt of knowing, that horrible bastard that killed them was still running around free as if his world was in perfect harmony. I remember the blood. I remember the party to extreme details. My family, my friends, even some people I didn’t know were all there helping me to celebrate the great time of my seventh birthday. It was all fine, until the first shot rang out. Multiple more shots were heard and before I knew it my backyard was submerged in blood. Bodies were on the floor, lifelessly laying dead. I’d wish this before, but never like this. Everyone I knew perished and it was my entire fault. Everyone that is, except my four cousins and my most trusted friend. Their names are Abby, Sharine, Mickey, Susan, Guadalupe, and Tina. They were inside the house with me. Getting a drink when it happened. I believe everything happens for a reason. Maybe we all were given these powers to protect ourselves, from a horrible fate like our parents faced. We all looked around the room. All six of our group looking for someone, as if we needed anyone to guide us anymore. “Why? Why must everything, everything happen to us?” asked Susan holding the corpse of the man that took us in. I looked at the corpse fighting back the tears in my eyes. “I don’t know. Everyone always says ‘Karma is a bitch.’ But what did we do to deserve this? Maybe we are fit to live as hermits.” Mickey says. I can tell he is also fighting back tears. “Crying... Won’t... Solve anything! I know this. But why... why do I still continue to cry? He... he wasn’t even my father!” Tina screamed sobbing. “The best thing to do is to walk away now. And to reminisce about the good times.” Sharine said getting up from the floor and wiping tears from her eyes. “They were targeted because of us. That’s… That’s what the woman says. She told me to forget about. It’s not our fault, just because of our witch crafting powers. Our guiding tower has fallen.” Abby said all of this in such a blank and calm tone as if she was in a trance. The woman Abby had been probably been referring to was the voices in her head a gift she has had since childhood in exchange for her blindness. “I say we head out for another village or find something exciting to do! All this sadness bores me.” Guadalupe shouted getting up and heading out the door. I headed out the door to talk to Guadalupe and Tina followed me. “Hey, Guadalupe, I think we should give them some time. You know as well as I do they each have very close to Sensei.” I tell Guadalupe. “I’m done. I’m done hiding in fear. Just because I can control the wind, that superficial bastard comes and kills everyone I let near me. “Thomas, you must understand. You too, Tina.” Guadalupe then turned to Tina expecting a response. “Your right… I say we leave first thing in the morning.” Tina said. “I’ll tell the others.” Guadalupe then turned around and went back into the room to tell everyone of the plans for tomorrow. Tina then looked at me with a slight smile. “We’re doing the right thing, huh? Why do I feel this heavy guilt then,” Tina said as her green robe feel to her feet leaving her only in a green short skirt and a white buttoned up shirt, “I know that witch craft is wrong and all, but why is just manipulated the thunder in a way I like so bad?” “I guess we will never know.” I replied to her. Then lead her to our room we had been sharing for three years now since our Sensei took us in. Post your favourite three stories, in order. Try to give reasons for your vote. Since I didn't enter this time round, I'll be voting A B D. I thought D was too pretentious, and B had a lot of parts that could have been cut out. Not that A was perfect, mind. |
Known as Haar on Brand of Flame. Bitch. Formerly Margaret Thatcher, Aleksandr | |
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| Dragon_Sniper | Mar 22 2009, 11:36 AM Post #13 |
mmmmmmmatt cassel
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I'm going to vote A, B, and D as well. Nice entries. |
 They like me! They really like me! (And Hakado! :D) | |
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| Sentenal | Mar 22 2009, 09:27 PM Post #14 |
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When you can't make them see the light, make them feel the heat.
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A B C am I allowed to vote for myself?! A was well written, same with B (but with more fluff), and there was just something epic and amazing about C that I can't put my finger on, but it looks like it was written in like 5 minutes. |
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| Yzarc | Mar 23 2009, 12:40 PM Post #15 |
Coxian
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If I only want to vote for one, can I vote for A? If I have to vote for three, I wouldn't know which other two to pick, but definitely A was the best. |
  
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7:42 AM Nov 8
