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crabrock posted:Muffin x sebmojo hot action i love you
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 06:31 |
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# ? Oct 7, 2024 15:21 |
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crabrock posted:judgement post
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 06:43 |
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Sitting Here posted:MUFFIN SurreptitiousMuffin posted:Alright Sitting Here, I'm comin' for ya. Sitting Here vs. SurreptitiousMuffin Thunderbrawl: John William Waterhouse Each of you can craft beautiful imagery; I want to see what you do with beautiful imagery as your starting point. John Waterhouse is one of my favorite artists, not least because he draws so often from literature, poetry, and myth. I don't want you to consider the source when you write about the women in these paintings, however. Come up with something entirely new. Sitting Here: The Shrine SurreptitiousMuffin: Boreas Turn the picture you've been given into a story of no more than 1,000 words by Saturday, January 25, 11:59pm US Eastern.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 07:42 |
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Attention ye wretched peasants! I have read your wretched dross. Judgement shall be passed on the morrow, when the sun is at it's peak. Or when my hangover wears off, whichever comes first.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 09:18 |
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In the meantime, I have something to keep you busy. Totally Non-Official TD that has no winner, no loser, no signups, and lasts until the results are in I got a lot of people complaining to me over irc or via PM that my flash rule this week was too difficult, and forced them to cut too much of their stories. However, a good writer should always strive for elegance: to tell the biggest story with the least words. That's why I'm issuing the following challenge: * Write an EPIC story. Not in the watered-down internet definition of the word, but a real oldworld bonecruncher. If I can't imagine Frank Frazetta drawing it or Iron Maiden singing about it, you've done something wrong. * The word limit is 100. That's right, 100 words. One hundred. I will not tolerate a single word over that. This is more a challenge of clever editing than writing: knowing exactly what to cut to tell your story as efficiently as possible. No signup period: if you've finished it, post it. You can crit each other, because that's another important writer skill that we don't work on enough. Critting is optional, but recommended. Go to, peasants.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 09:25 |
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While I'm here, I wrote crits last night but my browser ate them. You'll have to take it from me that they were really funny and had a bunch of clever jokes and poo poo because they're gone now. I was tasked to crit #31 onwards, #31 being ... --- Terminator by Play Busted the word count horribly: I'm guessing you missed the flash rule. Disqualified. Despite not being a noir, this story stumbled blindly through the terrible noir cliche minefield and came away with no limbs and half a face. Really needs a spellcheck (“Maybe you would like to join us, Mr. Stanko?” ha asked quietly.). I remember arguing with you in Book Barn about Prince of Thorns and honestly, I think this fails for the same reason those books do: it tries so hard to be HARD and DARK that it's just kinda silly. On the other hand, you pulled off the 'edges of ideas' pretty competently and there's a nice balance of description and dialogue; a lot of other pieces failed to do either. What kind of death is it? Shot in the back by a whisky-swilling dame in the red dress but she's really not feeling it. --- Closure by Peel I've put this as a personal honorable mention, though I don't know how the others feel about it. It's nice that you focused on a more human story rather than going for the BIG DRAMA that so many have affected. People tend to be more interesting than events. My big issue (and the thing that knocked it out of my #1 slot) is that it's far too dialogue heavy. I have no idea where these people are or what they look like, and it really kills the thing for me. I know you were working with very limited words, but surely there's a line or two of dialogue you could've cut. Physical descriptions don't need to be big, they just need to be descriptive. What kind of death is it? Talked to death by a gorgeous ex. --- Paradise by Chair Bird Another disqualified for busting the world count. You know how this happens and you kinda cringe? It's so much worse when you do it in a book. If you call a story 'paradise', you're not allowed to keep using the word 'paradise' while grinning smugly at your keyboard. Also, is your protagonist high as gently caress? He reads like he's high as gently caress. Weird poo poo happens and he just sorta takes it in his stride. "Oh look I'm being grabbed and screamed at by a woman covered in sores. Wild, dude." A little more of a tactile reaction would've gone a long way. On top of that, I'm really confused. I have no idea what happened in this story, and how it relates to the prompt. What kind of death is it? A baffling case of maybe leprosy who really knows. --- Death in Dorset by ProQuoQuid SOMEBODY DIDN'T WRITE SCIENCE FICTION. HALLEJULAH PRAISE THE LORD. It's also a pretty good story. It's funny, it's clever, it does something unique with the prompt, it balances solid prose with (middling) dialogue. My personal pick for the win, though again I don't know how the other two judges feel and that should be taken with a grain of salt. As mentioned, the dialogue is your weak spot. It's kinda stiff and lifeless. You were aiming for English reserve and ended up with malfunctioning robot. It's not terrible, but it stood out as something to work on. What kind of death is it? Grand Mal during a Petite Mal, though your lover can't talk dirty for poo poo. --- The Four Trillionth Human by V for Vegas Not a perfect story, but an improvement from a lot of your other work. There's some genuinely beautiful language scattered around in there, though it's so eager to be all GRAND and PORTENTOUS that it undermines itself. This story has been told a lot before (the 70s alone produced thousands of 'so many people there's literally standing room only' spec fic pieces) and you could've taken a step back and been a little less serious about it. The very best of those 70s stories I've read was 2BR02B by Kurt Vonnegut: it's kind of silly, but it gets the desperation across much better because it lets the reader feel it out themselves rather than ramming it down their throats. What kind of death is it? Crushed in a mosh pit by a bunch of guys taking this whole thing way too seriously. --- more to come
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 10:00 |
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SurreptitiousMuffin posted:In the meantime, I have something to keep you busy. WELP. The Duty 100 words even. The warrior priestess gazed stoically into the maw of the ancient demon. As the enormous creature brought her in close, preparing to devour her and her immortal soul both, she drew her sword and leapt; not away from the razor teeth and venom, but towards, inward, embracing her fate. There she plunged her blade deep into the back of the demon’s throat, and rode the wave of acid blood out of the creatures mouth, her armor preventing the bile from burning into her flesh as she rolled free. She gazed at her work before her. Not bad, for a Tuesday.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 11:24 |
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--- The Fruit of the Tree by Fumblemouse Ugh, I don't want to review this one, I really don't. You're a good writer Mouse, but this is a terrible story. The prose is loving gorgeous but the story itself is a vague, confusing, pretentious mess. My dishonourable mention: there were many stories that were worse, but this one disappointed me the most. You're better than this. I have so many questions. Mostly, what the gently caress just happened? Why did the story suddenly and inexplicably jacknife into sci-fi at the end there? I thought it was just a pretty retelling of Genesis, and then it got weird without warning. Weird I can deal with, but you can't just suddenly have it happen in the middle of a completely different story. What kind of death is it? maaaan there's a dude with a chainsaw playing a guitar solo while on fire and he comes charging towards you and then aliens abduct you before anything cool gets to happen. --- Untitled by El Diabolico Cool use of the concept, but not a great execution. She's awfully calm about a dude that just killed her. There's more reaction than Chair Bird's weirdo protagonist had, but why didn't she run away? Try to get revenge? Sitting down and sharing a meal with the dude makes no sense whatsoever. Is murder normal in this world? It sorta felt like you were trying to get that across through the characters' actions, but it's such a huge jump from our understanding of the world that it needs to be more obvious. You don't have to straight up tell it, but some more showing would've helped. What kind of death is it? valium overdose. --- Last light of the day by Ihmemies Busted the word count big time. Disqualified. More bible poo poo, because I totally haven't read too many of those today. "In the end, it did not matter who launched the first missile. The Earth burned, filling the skies with soot and bringing night over the land. People screamed until they could not, their consciousnesses echoing the voices their bodies were not capable of anymore." Man, I wish I was reading this story instead of God and the Devil eating loving grapes. The problem with big stories like this is that they're so grand in scale it's impossible to empathise with any of the content. The solution is to add a real human element. A great example of this is Spin by Robert Charles Wilson: there's one generation of humanity left before doomsday, but it deals with the people at the centre of everything. It definitely covers the big earth-changing events, but we come to understand them through the characters on the ground. Plot without people just doesn't work. What kind of death is it? thrown into a pit of hungry Mormons. --- My God Is The Sun by Agnostic Jihad Word count disqualified yadda yadda read the drat thread during the week people. More Christianity for some reason! I'm starting to switch off every time somebody mentions the bible at this point. I'm not feeling the jumps at all. You wanted to tell a bigger story and so you cut all the transitional stuff, but you probably should've just tried to tell a smaller story. What kind of death is it? comically oversized electric chair. --- The Supermen by Bigup DJ Somebody in irc said "wow some dude just posted a story you're going to absolutely hate muffin" and I was expecting to tear you a new rear end in a top hat but honestly, it's ok. All-dialogue is really hard to pull off and you should probably try to get your description down more solidly before you even try it but I'm willing to forgive brave failures more than the boring and safe. It didn't work and you should probably try to get the basics down before you do something experimental, but you're alright. What kind of death is it? new guy at the lab decides to try splicing his genes with a horse for his first project. Pros: can run really fast. Cons: dead. --- Felicia Goes South by Barracuda Bang! D I S Q U A L I F I E D I'm pretty sure this is the most disqualifications I've ever seen. Christ people, read the thread during the week. It's a rare 'dome with no flash rules. MORE BIBLICAL STUFF BECAUSE THERE'S NOT ENOUGH OF THAT YET NOSIR. There needs to be a new 'dome rule that says "if there's a really obvious route, don't take it". Experiment, people. To get the dome's love you don't even have to be that good, you just have to be interesting. Ask Chairchucker if you don't believe me. All this heaven and hell poo poo is like chewing drywall. The actual conceit is cute: I don't think I've seen hell as a supermarket before. Punchline was kinda dumb, but endearing. The voice is neat. Overall this is near the top of the pack, especially from the BIBLE stuff. Unfortunately, it's miles over the word limit. What kind of death is it? mauled to death by a friendly golden retriever. --- one more lot to come
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 11:28 |
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curlingiron posted:WELP. --- Hustled by Feste In a week of over 40 entrants you managed to write the worst story twice. It's like anti-art. My personal loser, far and away. Better hope Rhino and Carbon have more mercy than I do. I have a rule that all genre writers should follow: don't start with loving. It's such a cheap, cheesy, overdone opener and it never works. China Mieville couldn't pull it off and that guy makes words like 'Wallpurgian', 'Retroeschatonaut' and 'Moldywarp' work. I get that you want to start with a bang, but I think you're taking that the wrong way. Also, never start with violence. Again it's overdone and cheesy, but also if we don't know the characters, why should we give a poo poo? We have no stakes in their fight. I can hear people grumbling about the wordcount from a mile away so here's my advice: if the story you want to tell won't fit the word count without butchering it, tell a different story. What kind of death is it? drowned in a septic tank filled with semen. --- Meet the Meat by ThirdEmperor Oh god this is loving ridiculous, but I kind of love it for how completely bugfuck it lets itself be. It reminds me of babbys-first Clive Barker. Your prose is still pretty stilted but there's a few good lines in there and overall I've definitely seen you improve since you showed up here. I'm not sure how it fits the prompt really. Are the people still alive when they're eaten? You had like 125 words left, so you probably could've done something with that. I almost wish you'd gone more overboard with the bombastic gore. Really commit to the madness. I'd recommend watching some early Peter Jackson movies to get inspired. What kind of death is it? cannibal holocaust --- Death Everlasting by magnificent7 Late, disqualified. tell tell tell tell tell tell tell tell it reads like an encyclopedia entry. Starting from "I've been married a hundred thousand times" it's actually interesting but you spend way too much of your limited word count setting up this world when "people don't die" has already been set up by the prompt. You don't need to tell us why they don't die, you need to show us why it matters. What kind of death is it? crazed axeman showed up late and missed the party. He then got acid dropped on him by an acid-lion. You're the only person on Earth left alive, wandering bleak and burned out ruins.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 11:52 |
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hullo guv'na, lots of careposting and whining in the dome, innit? sure is but guv'na, I thought that was all forbidden? SURE THE gently caress IS STOP WHINING AND CAREPOSTING AND ARGUING WITH THE JUDGES This is not the thread for it. There might be another monthly contest in CC right now, I don't loving know because I haven't checked. If you want to wheedle and whine about results and cry because someone's being mean to you, go find one of those or start your own. Don't loving do it here.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 12:21 |
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shutup, martello you're careposting ReptileChillock fucked around with this message at 16:45 on Jan 14, 2014 |
# ? Jan 14, 2014 13:46 |
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I SUPPOSE I SHALL HAVE A GO AT THIS. Bear Mountain (70 words) The barbarian laughed as he stared down the bear that the world thought was a mountain. His luxurious hair flowed behind him in the wind and his muscles glistened with the effort of climbing to the bear’s head. The barbarian wound up and smashed the bear right in its jaw—a man literally punching a mountain. Its demonic eyes flashed and, as it fell, the beast’s death-roar shattered the world. Because, legitimately, what is more manly than punching a bear that is also a mountain and breaking the world?
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 15:07 |
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You Always Remember Your First 100 words Jake’s brother was grinning like an idiot. A big, goofy, fifteen-year-old idiot. Which he was. Adam’s hands were shaking as he got into the truck. “Have a good time on your little date?” Jake asked while cranking the engine. Adam nodded. He was giddy and giggly and Jake looked at him expectantly but Adam didn’t say a word. He couldn’t say a word. His mouth opened and closed and opened and closed. “So, dude, what happened?” Jake asked. “I touched her boobs!” Adam bellowed triumphantly, “Both of ‘em! Both hands! It was awesome!” Jake pumped his fist. And the brothers hi-fived.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 15:11 |
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ReptileChillock posted:shutup, martello Oh yeah you want to brawl me. Since you're a huge baby you pick the prompt and word count and even the judge. Loser can't post in the thread for a week.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 15:40 |
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SurreptitiousMuffin posted:Death Everlasting by magnificent7
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 15:56 |
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Unyielding 100 words He was bathed in light. Stars shot through the orange sky, twinkling and giggling in the distance. An orchestra of trumpets filled the air, urging him to move on. Thick ground fog stirred with every step he took. The orchestra rose to a deafening crescendo until he found himself before a beautiful monstrosity of pure radiance. The sight filled his eyes with tears and the sound of trumpets ebbed. A gentle voice whispered in his head: "It is time. You are at peace now." "Not yet", replied the warrior and drew his sword as he lunged towards the heathen god.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 16:10 |
Dark Strings - 99 Eliath wrapped the bass strings around the demon's head and pulled. The claws of angels ripped into his sides, but pain was only distraction. With a soft pluck at the deepest tone, the demon convulsed, and with the force of a small-yield nuke, it exploded and threw Eliath towards the skies. Strings trailing, he tuned his bass back just in time to parry the attack of the angel hanging onto him, and roaring the skin of its bones, he slammed the bass guitar into its skull again and again until it caved in. "Your turn", he said, looking upwards.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 16:14 |
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Depths - 100 words “HOLD ON” the captain screams. The ocean roars, blue and white fly into the sky. The ocean needs violence. The ship is held in the ocean's grip, waves billow towards the pitch black sky. With a cruel jolt the ship falls hundreds of feet back into the depths. “Boys, this will be a fine death” freezing salt water shuts the Captain up, filling his belly - pushing the bravery deep down somewhere silent. The ocean is tired and wants company, a wave folds the ship into its dark belly. Eighteen men, lost in the womb of the water.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 16:39 |
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Kaishai posted:Sitting Here vs. SurreptitiousMuffin Thunderbrawl: John William Waterhouse It is good.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 16:57 |
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Heirs of Apollo - 88 words Anticipation grows below as the capsule touches down on the Lunar surface, the fat complacent attitude of decades past forgotten. Even now, the people speak in hushed tones and giddy whispers. They know their life’s work is realized in this one moment and that millions have toiled to see today. No matter what happens next, the people will tell their children that, like the gods, they were masters of heaven. It is difficult to focus through the tears. On television screens around the Earth, the pod door opens.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 17:28 |
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Life sucks -I don't know how many words. Orbs propelled upwards by long striding muscle, slopes round and beautiful work against gravity held in place by taught ropes. Oscillating lenses follow movement, hydraulic shift. Cloth pulled tight against natures flow. Quickly the warm blooded balloon is hidden, shame and embarrassment follow. Warm liquid runs against gravity to sit under the crust like lava changing the color of the environment. A creature betrayed by desire. Sorry for edit phone posted and forgot to bold title. I suck No Longer Flaky fucked around with this message at 17:48 on Jan 14, 2014 |
# ? Jan 14, 2014 17:38 |
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Here's a lil' story. Heartseeker (100 words) I saw him, once. His eyes flamed ice blue, and the cold seemed not to bother him, for all that his garments were a battered iron helm, a fur loincloth. None knew his name, but all knew his axe: Heartseeker. Runed and hoary with frost, it cleaved and cleaved. I fought him, once. He was covered in blood, none his. All of it from my people. My iron thews strained, but he was my better, and he left me for dead in the snow. The village burned. But I lived. And I shall kill him, for what he has done. SurreptitiousMuffin posted:You can crit each other, because that's another important writer skill that we don't work on enough. Critting is optional, but recommended. Hokay! curlingiron posted:WELP. WELP is right, son. You had it all: Descriptive flourish, good imagery, and something that, while Frazetta may not have painted it, Glenn Fabry would have... And then you done hosed up. "Not bad for a Tuesday"? REALLY? Here's a hint, jerkoff: EPIC doesn't do "For me, it was Tuesday". It doesn't have to, because it's EPIC. That one line hosed the mood for me, thanks. Boner Rating: It was good, and then someone said "flange", and I lost it. Assoonasitits posted:I SUPPOSE I SHALL HAVE A GO AT THIS. Okay, I didn't spot this on my first reading, because I was caught up in the awesomeness of a man punching a mountain sized bear, but if you have "jawa" in your spellchecker, there might be something seriously wrong. Oh, wait, you meant "jaw, a man literally punching a mountain." Which it doesn't need. We know the bear's mountain sized from your first line, so you've wasted six words... Except you actually wasted almost 20 words, because the description of the punch wasn't nearly epic enough. Yes, "smashed" is good. But think about how florid you could have made this almost 20 words (a fifth of the god-drat allotment), which would have made the middle of this story so much more awesome. EDIT: Okay, so quoting gets rid of some punctuation (the dash, and quote marks in some other poo poo). But you still wasted words. Don't. Boner Rating: Painfully stiff. Tyrannosaurus posted:You Always Remember Your First You could have subverted that title, man, but you came up with something that was straight... And decidedly unepic. I remember my first, Tyrannosaurus, but it was a lovely fumbling that ended with me having a bruised crotch because she had bony hips. Like your story. Boner Rating: Limp, with no hope of recovery. Entenzahn posted:Unyielding Unlike the last fucknugget, you have the imagery down. But the warrior's just a cipher, and the Heathen God is described so hard that I actually have no loving idea what it is. Clarity is just as important as being epic, and too much imagery can hurt the story just as much as none at all. Boner Rating: Yes, it's hard, but I have no idea what I was looking at. Black Griffon posted:Dark Strings - 99 Okay, let's see here. This is a fight, right? But the length of the sentences makes it feel slow, sedate. The nuke part just doesn't fit, the rhythm's off, and... Look, lemme just give you some advice my stepdaddy gave to me. Read it out loud before you post it. Does it sound like a viking saga, or does it sound awkward. Because, to me, one line feels entirely different to the next. "The claws of angels yadda yadda yadda" felt good. It was to the point, it had awesomeness. But the line right after goes on for too long, and it has the effect of just... trailing off. The ending could have been epic, but because of what came before, it feels superfluous, off because it feels as out of place as the preceding paragraph. Boner Rating: Up and down like a yoyo. Mr_Wolf posted:Depths - 100 words I... honestly don't know. Maybe it's the unconventional setting, but you have all the right pieces, and... I'm not feeling it. "The Ocean needs violence." Good, like it. The final line, enjoy it. But it doesn't feel epic. Maybe because the delivery is a bit stilted. At least part of it is this: "water shuts the captain up". No. Word choice is important, especially when every word counts, and this is not only not epic, it's an awkward as hell phrase. If I said "I'm gonna shut you up", you would probably laugh, even if I was holding a chainsaw at the time. Also, it's a waste of words. Boner Rating: Half-mast. JamieTheD fucked around with this message at 19:11 on Jan 14, 2014 |
# ? Jan 14, 2014 17:45 |
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(100 words) The world-eater waits at the end of its great marble hall. My blessed claymore sings as I drag her tip on the ground. The time has come. The world-eater's maw requires no teeth to devour; I am pulled in as soon as I approach the gaping hole, sucked down into womb-like tightness and moisture, then launched out into the abyssal black of its stomach. The arc of the claymore describes a silver crescent that resonates in the key of excision. I gut the beast from the inside, and spill back into the world among the fragments of my silenced sword.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:05 |
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Aurora (98 words) He is the dark of night; she is the sun; the first light of dawn is a rent in him, torn by her sword. She ignites his feet with a touch, and the fickle stars flee. Yet he fights. He chokes her with cloudstuff: its tears slow her burning. He freezes her in winter: she struggles, chilled and wan. But in his age he dies to her youth, whether the end comes fast or slow, and she dances on his corpse in the break of day. Come his hour of rebirth, all the weeping will be hers.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:19 |
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[EDIT: removed for publishing reasons]
SurreptitiousMuffin fucked around with this message at 03:13 on Dec 4, 2014 |
# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:21 |
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Dance of Fairies - 100 Words Älskade Älskling, most beloved of the fairies in Falkenberg's fjörds, mounted her Corgi, lance in hand. Across from her, and barely visible through the falling snow, sat Mörker Mörkensson atop his panting Pembroke. Älskade spurred her Cardigan steed forward, and it scurried headlong across the snow, ears back. She pointed the tip toward Mörkensson's plated chest. His lance as black as his name, Mörkensson's corgi too was cast with shadowy markings, though its white chest and paws blended into the snow-blinding sky. They clashed, and the fairies danced under shards of spear.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:21 |
EPIC PROMPT Consquences (88 words) The star fell and shattered the sky and the earth and the sea. The blade-of-stolen-starmetal pulses in her hands. The underbrush bursts outward the beast falls upon her. Her sword carves up through the beast’s torso and it twitches as its blood bursts out in a spray. She limps back to the town-hidden-by-mountains, her home. Flames consume the buildings, and the scent of offal floods the air. An old man, eyeless and bloodcaked, reaches up towards her. “The star things are awake!” He says as he dies.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:28 |
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Hardyssey and Deepiad 98 words Brianycus’s body burned with unquenchable rage. His horde coursed through the city drowning the defenders and peasants in a flood of steel. He and his men swept over the resistance, crashing towards the temple. “Archer on the rooftop!” “Chariot in the alleyway!” Brianycus breathed in deep, he was almost overcome by the melody of screams and the aroma of flesh burning. An enemy streaked by. Brianycus’s lance skewered him. “Is this all?! Pathetic!” His hairs extended in all directions. He looked up, but never saw the bolt thrown by Zeus Himself. Dust danced in the wind, licking flickering flames. Silence. Jagermonster fucked around with this message at 18:46 on Jan 14, 2014 |
# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:42 |
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itsy-bitsy epics! Foundations (52 words) "When I die," whispered the king, "thus shall my earthly works." He pressed the button with a palsied finger. And monuments to old gods and new businessmen, bereft of their foundations, crumbled in torrents of rock. Those of us who remain now scrabble in the ruins, lingering past a dreaming man's awakening.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:45 |
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Kaishai posted:Aurora I hate you SurreptitiousMuffin posted:The Summit P metal But this line: Years of preparation for this moment, to put his life in the hands of the gods. is not a complete sentence, you corner-cutter. edit: Unfortunately, you reminded me of late era Gilmore-only Pink Floyd https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eCB_INs2E24 systran posted:Dance of Fairies - 100 Words This is about as metal as a dollhouse tea party. Which are p metal if you were me as a kid and decapitated your barbies and cut up their clothes and then taped the dolls back together as grotesque 3 headed monsters. However, too many words wasted on what I consider to be backstory and description, not enough words about corgi jousting. I really wanted to see more corgi jousting. Meinberg posted:EPIC PROMPT Should've just stuck with: A star falls, there is a monster cause star, EPIC BATTLE. You even had extra words to work with to make it all cool and I haven't looked over all of these, but in general flash fiction in TD suffers from people writing like it's the intro to a book. Tie up ur loose ends, bitchz Sitting Here fucked around with this message at 18:54 on Jan 14, 2014 |
# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:49 |
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hi im posting this on a phone version of wordpad i count 100 words but it might be off kthnx Solis The parched earth beneath his feet spread to the horizon. He stood, barefoot, armed only with a lute against the flaming beast far above. He imagined its distant roar, and plucked a counterpoint. Sweat dripped from his face and he stepped back, and forward, a dance beneath its burning gaze that called on times long past. The beast raged as its flames were swallowed. It roared, it seared, but the musician danced and played unbowed until at last its heat was shrouded. At the end, overcome, he collapsed. Rain fell on the arid forest for the first time in centuries.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 18:53 |
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In my defense, and at the risk of being accused of careposting, there is meant to be an em-dash between "jaw" and "a", but I failed to appreciate that my formatting would not be maintained by the post entry form. Other than that, I agree, this is definitely not my best work.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 19:10 |
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Thunderdome 75 Judgement Thunderdome hit a milestone this week. For our 75th showdown, we had a record number of entries. Which means we also had a record amount of suck. I wanted you chumps to challenge my innermost beliefs on what it means to be human and instead I got wonky sci-fi exposition and stories with people who behave exactly the same only more XXXXtreme because lol death amirite? That said, some of you managed to get your poo poo together and write something that resonated if but for a brief moment of our fleeting lives. This week's winner is Peel, who gives us a subtle, finely crafted peek into what eternal love might really mean. It was a little dialog heavy, but sensitive and poignant, and miraculously managed a sci-fi setting without jizzing on about it forever. Honorable mentions go to the following chaps/chapettes: God Over Djinn for a beautiful, simply told story that cheekily skirts the rules. QuidProQuo for a tale that feels like it could've been pulled right out of The Canterbury Tales, with remarkably evocative descriptions (side note Quid, the other judges loved you and were it not for my scepter of judgement you probably would've won this week). Fumblemouse for a story that starts as a brilliant reversal of Genesis but then kinda falls apart midway through (seriously if your whole story had been as good as the first couple paragraphs, you would've won this week). And Seldom Posts for a horrifying story of how cheap life can become when it is infinite (also your story reminded me of that one level in Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines, which is always good) This week's jerky loser jerkface was No Longer Flaky. Humanity is changed in a deeply profound way and the only impacts are quicker car access and marginally more violent motorsports? Ok then. This wasn't horribly written, just kinda meh, but it utterly failed to strike any chord with me, alas. Special Achievement in 'The Story Was Bad But He Kept It Short So He Doesn't Lose': Feste Special Achievement in What The gently caress: Mercedes (seriously, was your beard story an entry for a brawl I didn't notice? So confused.) Peel, you're up. You poor bastard.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 19:21 |
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I'm entering twice because idgaf. Foundations (62 words) A perfect creation inevitably takes imperfect form in the mind of man. Thus the hundred thousandth slave was tossed from the marble structure to rot in the morass at its feet. The architect forced the blade into his gut, runnels of blood painting the temple floor. Only the lizards heard his whimpers of ecstasy; only the scorpions saw his grimace of delight. e: fffffffff drat you
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 19:24 |
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Crack the Sky - 99 words Across the valley the priest's chanting echoed, supernaturally loud, drowning the wind's howl. He raised the ancient relic above his head as the incantation peaked. The roc plummeted from the sky, striking the ziggurat hard enough to crack the stone. Neesha rolled free, adding the momentum to the speed of her tomahawk. Breath smashed from his chest, the elder staggered, dropping the painted skull to shatter on the blood-slicked stone. Panting, she raised the gnarled staff the shamans had gifted her, spat at the dying man, and her single blow shattered the altar into dust. "Your god is dead."
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 19:27 |
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And now some more of that religious sci-fi that Muffin loves so much. (Sorry I couldn't work in any robot gods.) Today Thou Shalt Be With Me... (99 words) “MY NAME IS LEGION,” a thousand thousand voices cried. “FOR WE ARE-” Screams and flesh alike boiled away in a wash of laserlight. The strange gun felt warm in my hands. “Keep firing!” I shouted to my squadmates, damned souls one and all, rising up at last against our demonic tormentors. “We’re close, we’re so close!” “Paradise, huh?” I said to that strange, impossible man I’d met the day I died as we cut our way forward, me with my gun, he with a sword forged from a star. He smiled a defiant, vicious smile. “Day’s not over yet.”
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 19:32 |
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Epic Promt. 100 words including title. Attack! The thundering sound of axes battering shields deafens all. They face a forest of armored men, barely visible through the smoke of burning fields. On the fifth day of battle the smell of death and poo poo is overwhelming, nauseating. Blood covers every man, his own or the enemy’s. Five times he-Gondar has thrown himself towards his foes, five times he has broken their banners, and five times the enemy has driven them driven back. In their rear, their women prepare for defeat, knifes stand ready to cut the children`s throats. Retreat is unthinkable. Raising his axe he yells” ATTACK!”
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 19:50 |
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Beserkgang Hrolf saw the enemy before they saw him. Ten thousand men in gleaming steel armour with shields locked together, marching across the plain to bring an end to him and his. Harald stood beside him, axe drawn. “In Valhalla,” said Harald, “first round's on you.” “Aye,” said Hrolf. “Let's die like warriors.” He beat his sword against his shield once, twice. The red mist descended. He made a throaty cluck. His knuckles went white around his hilt. “Ock!” he screamed. “Ock ock ock!” Harald did the same. They gave one last mighty Ock together, then charged.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 20:02 |
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sentientcarbon posted:Special Achievement in What The gently caress: Mercedes (seriously, was your beard story an entry for a brawl I didn't notice? So confused.) To ask is to look upon the face of madness. Are you prepared for such a task young Thunderdome winner? Epic Prompt The Garden Word Count 72 Amir stood stoic upon the mountain. His mountain. Above him, a choir of angels sang his graces and the heavens opened up -- a beam of glorious light streaking across the sky to illuminate a garden at the base of his mountain. A single tear blazed the way down his dirty cheek. There, basking in the wondrous miracle of holy light, awaited his promised 72 virgins. Praise be to Allah.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 20:07 |
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# ? Oct 7, 2024 15:21 |
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Peel, you cocksucker. Hurry the gently caress up and post the next prompt so I can snatch the next Dishonorable Mention.
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# ? Jan 14, 2014 20:31 |