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ThirdEmperor fucked around with this message at 14:55 on Dec 25, 2017 |
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Aug 21, 2017 04:03
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F.D.D (#1037) Whatever creates life is probably more beast than man. After all, how could something so awe-inspiring be neglected for so long? It must have been the work of something animalistic. ~Treatise on the Cosmic Dragon Life. Been there, done that. ~ How to be a Deity and stay Awake The Old Shaman was banished ten seasons ago when his medicines became ineffective. Recently, as the land once again grew verdant, he has come back into the lives of the tribe. Before he was banished, the tribal guardians were the first to denounce his magic. When a young guard leg had to be cut off from a scorpion sting, the Shaman was called out by guardians. The sting was something the Shaman had healed with the Dragon's Blessing before and they called him a pretender when he could not do it once more. The Old Shaman pleaded before the drawn arrows of the tribe, “Let me speak to the Dragon of the Green, he will give me a reason why the magic doesn’t work.” They gave the Shaman time. He took a sip of the boiling pot of foul smelling tea he kept hidden away. With the tea, he journeyed into the Frame of the Universe. High above the small red ball of their world, the Shaman found the slow-moving Dragon of the Green. Its body slowly wreathed around all the worlds it had visited as small bits of fungi and seeds fell from its molting scales. It was breathing life into a dead world as the Shaman spoke, “Great Dragon, the leaves you told me would heal all poison have dried up. I beg you to give me the power to heal my tribesman without the leaves.” The Dragon didn’t acknowledge the Shaman. The dead planet the Dragon breathed upon became fiery, steamy than filled with air and water. Little green motes erected themselves from the sea and upon these new lands ran all manners of creatures. The Shaman saw people like himself and his tribe, darkened shadows against the naked plains. It was a replica of his own world. The Shaman asked, “Great Dragon. Is this world a copy of ours? Please help my people before you move onto another world.” It didn’t appear to hear his pleas. The Dragon whispered to a sleeping man who looked just like the Shaman. This man picked leaves and brewed tea the next day as if possessed. The Dragon slithered past the world as quickly as he gave life to it. The Old Shaman looked behind the Dragon and saw a marathon of worlds just like his. When he returned to his body the Old Shaman accepted his banishment and burned off all the remains of his faith to the Dragon of the Green. He hastily packed food and water and went into the desert where all banished people go. The Old Shaman had packed away some of the sacred tea leaves without realizing he had done so. In the starlight of the cold desert nights, the Old Shaman burned brush and blasphemed the Dragon of the Green. “Vile worm! Absent Father! Neglectful Mother! Careless spirit!” He said this and more. The banished people flocked around him. Some were former shamans, crippled guardians, cannibals and people who just didn’t belong anywhere. They heard the rants of the Shaman and found comfort in his words. They too began to blame the Dragon. As his hair grew white and hardened with sand and mud, his coal black skin flaking and erupting in white boils, the Old man knew he was dying. In the frayed remains of the ox gut bag he pulled a clump of dried tea leaves. He chewed them down hoping they were medicine. So much of his primal knowledge was gone by that point that he didn’t realize what he was eating. The Old Shaman had a dream in amongst the shivering emaciated bodies of his congregation. A blue dragon, smaller and covered in venomous spines rode down to the desert from a far off lightning storm. It stood on its fours, in a predatorial gesture before the Old Shaman. It poked the needle point of its gigantic claw into the old man's forehead. “Serve me and I will save you.” It echoed within the Old Shamans mind. The Old Shaman grunted, unafraid of death, “I serve no more spirits. They are illusions of affection.” The Blue Dragon sent a crackle through his claw. The Old Shaman found the Dragon had given him power. Not leaves, or recipes, but the buzzing energy of godhood. The Dragon said, “Was that an illusion?” Indeed, the Old Shaman knew he could bring life to the desert, he could bring rain to the drought, he could create fire with the lightning above. The Old Shaman asked, “Why? Why would you help me? I blasphemed the Dragon of the Green.” The Blue Dragon roared at the sky and the Shaman heard his own blasphemous words echo out of the bestial dirge. It called itself Mru-Culh the Blue and left the Shaman with a mission and a promise. Now the Old Shaman has returned to the Village with a hoard of blue eyed vagrants. Their bodies course with crackling sparks as they burn through the Old Shamans village with weapons made of thunder. The Old Shaman stands in the ruins and calls to the survivors of his rout, “Give up the Dragon and follow me to the next Village and I will let you all live.” The burned shivered villagers moan in pain and ask the Old Shaman, “Why? Why would you do this?” The Shaman did not ask for questions, only Loyalty and blasted those who questioned him into ashes. He roared with bestial fury to the quickly bowing leftovers of his tribe, “I cannot destroy the Dragon of the Green but I can erase his memory from this world.” Inside the Shaman's soul, he heard the voice of Mru-Culh the Blue. It empathized with the Old Shaman, “I too am an abandoned son. Dropped from the scales above as an accident. Let us erase our careless parent from this world.”
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Aug 21, 2017 04:42
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sebmojo fucked around with this message at 22:24 on Jan 8, 2018 |
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Aug 21, 2017 05:00
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well well well look at the time look at the time
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Aug 21, 2017 05:03
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fjgj loser: unwantedplatypus winner: ThirdEmperor grats. crits coming soon.
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Aug 21, 2017 05:15
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Tyrannosaurus posted:well well well look at the time look at the time Well, I didn't catch that the time was for the east coast. As is deserved, because this is my second time not submitting a story and I  , the punishment dealt out is deserved. I really hope I can come back in the future.
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Aug 21, 2017 05:43
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Wizgot posted:Well, I didn't catch that the time was for the east coast. As is deserved, because this is my second time not submitting a story and I It is better to submit and to keep writing. I'm going to bed. Post before I wake up and you won't be banned and you'll get a crit and you won't be quite as worthless
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Aug 21, 2017 05:55
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Wizgot posted:Well, I didn't catch that the time was for the east coast. As is deserved, because this is my second time not submitting a story and I there's generally some leeway with toxxes, so 
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Aug 21, 2017 05:59
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also always always read the prompt sometimes it's something hilarious fucky like Aleutian daylight time or w/e
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Aug 21, 2017 06:00
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Hi!  I'm Djeser from Thunderdome Corporate, but you can just call me Djeser. Let's take a look at your story!unwantedplatypus posted:Dragon-Slayer OKAY!! ! GIVE ME A FEw minutes to stop breathing so hard! Okay! Okay let's talk about this! There's three big problems I can see with this story. The first is the easiest to solve--the sentence structure is a bit of a mess. Be sure to proofread your stories and make sure they flow naturally! Making natural-sounding sentences takes a lot of careful re-reading. The second and third are trickier. The second problem is that you're spending a lot of time telling, and not a lot of time showing. When you're working in a ~1000 word length like a Thunderdome story, you don't have time to write out every little detail, so instead focus on a sketch. Pick one or two important sensory details about something and use them. Get evocative. Pick a detail that tells the reader something. Amir wore a coat of swirling silk (wealthy, cares about appearances). The dragon lay on his gold for all the world like a sleeping lion (dangerous, regal, possibly playful). The third problem is that I don't see a point. Now when I say a story should have a point, I'm not talking like a moral or something--I mean that your story should have some reason why it's being told. What makes it worth telling? It could be to share a vulnerable, human moment. It could be to get excited about a cool action scene. It could be to show the folly of greed or how ambition blinds you or so many, many things. But what I don't get in this story is the point. He wanted to kill a dragon, but instead, the dragon tossed the treasure down the mountain and threw the guy out the door. What was the deal with the staircase? Or the guy who couldn't sit still on his horse? I kind of feel like the end of this story was meant to be more substantial but it was cut for word count reasons, maybe? Even if it was meant to have a point and that just got lost in the mix, I still feel like there was a ton of chaff that could have been trimmed back. Anyway sorry for your loss but please come back again so that next time you can make some other schmuck eat the losertar!
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Aug 21, 2017 06:27
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The bards will sing 1,148 words Its eyes were unfeeling, exempt of emotion except for the blind primal instinct to kill and feed. He had been ambushed from his right as the limbless creature undulated at high speed, its forked tongue flicking out rapidly. He had rolled backward, jaws gashing shut where he had been moments before but was rocketed through the air by the bullwhip crack of the snakes rattle on his back. He hit the canyon’s wall hard, stunned momentarily but quickly regained his bearings, bringing his shield up and running directly toward his pursuer. The snake missed him by a hair’s length as he somersaulted over its head, sprinting on his two pink feet, tail whipping behind. The serpent had been charging too quick and had not calculated its own speed, smashing into the wall that had been behind him. It was unfazed and made chase. Tip, his mind searching frantically for a way out, ran towards a chasm in the canyon floor. It was a perilous drop flanked by loose earth and shrubbery. He turned, bringing his shield and sword up again and knew this was his only chance. His ruse worked. As the multi colored snake, with its interweaving diamond patterns, shot towards him, its slanted eyes locked onto him, he hit the earthen floor and rolled. The snake could not grip with its convulsing body and began to slip. Its head shot up and struck out as it tried to clamp on Tip for the last time but it was already over the edge, plummeting into the darkness. The bark shield lay next to his wildly panting body. He lay there for some time, listening to his own heartbeat and thanked the Thirteen Sultans that the snake had not been sentient. As a pup his mother had told him the stories of the Sultans and why, his eyes widening in wonder, the animals had been split in two: those with the gift of knowledge and those who were denied sentience. If the snake had been able to think, he surely would be dead now. They had laughed at him, the jeers of the humans and of their king, who had bent down and cackled in his face. The man’s breath had been overpowering, smelling of wine and garlic. “You can’t be serious?” The king had roared with laughter. “I sent out a call for men, not mice!” The court had erupted in guffaws and shrieks. He had stood there in his cape, gnawed from the hem of a great wizard's cloak, and held his impenetrable bark shield and needle sword. “If I bring back what has been taken from you, stolen from your royal treasury and caused the death of countless of your guards, will you pay me what is promised and permit the bards to sing my name?” Tip asked, pushing out his chest and standing as straight as possible. He had spoken in the noblest voice he could muster but that did not stop a smirk appearing on the human king’s face. “Why of course,” The king boomed, looking up from Tip and at the whole of his court. A jester in the corner hiccupped and clamped a hand over his mouth. The king continued, a grand smile on his face, “But being that you will most likely be eaten by the castle cat, that won’t be necessary.” Tip had stormed out. The faces floated now behind his eyelids as he lay on the earthen floor. His eyes opened. They were a vibrant blue, full of intelligence and cunning. His whole life he had been made fun of by both men and mice alike. He had been the runt of his litter and had grown slower than his siblings. He had hated himself for most of his young life, believing what others had always repeated to him. “You’re too small to go on the hunt,” his brother had said. “Stay here and help mother.” he had been pushed and shoved, tormented and belittled but that all changed when he found the book in a forgotten part of the castle crypt. It had been covered in dust and cobwebs, forgotten for centuries. Its contents had sparked in him a want he never knew existed. It had told him of adventures and quests of great men. The tome held maps of mythical locations and forgotten places. That is how he had obtained his most precious possession of all, the impenetrable bark shield taken from the feet of the trunk of the great Mother Tree. The bark that had shed was too small for any man to make armor with but for Tip, it was perfect as a shield. The ancient tome was the reason he had honed his skills. It had pointed him in the direction of countless quests and thanks to its forgotten knowledge, he had bettered himself with each adventure. Now he lay in the canyon, the last stretch of his current conquest, to slay the great dragon that had stolen the king’s sword. He had been traveling for months, unable to fly for no bird was an ally of any mouse. He had resorted to walking, using a torn out map from his treasure. The Dark Meadow had been terrifying, lying in eternal shadow and shrouded in mist. He had been warned from the decaying pages that the dead walked there. They did, but paid no attention to him, for he was too small to be seen, especially with his cloak which made him blend in with the surrounding. The Great Lake, which to him seemed like a vast ocean, had been the easiest of his long journey. He had been ferried across by a kind clan of otters, sentient themselves, and been sent on his way with a flask of dew water and a parcel of catfish wrapped in oak leaves. Now, the last leg of his quest. The entrance to the cave was pitch black and seemed to suck his soul towards it. From its depths came the faint hum of some ancient magic. The Dragon’s lair. He entered, his eyes adjusting to the gloom and walked through the caverns. Silhouettes loomed, the skeletal remains of heroes long dead. The dragon was awake when Tip entered his main dwelling chamber. It had smelled a living creature in its domain and had coiled its tail around its armored body. Mountains of bones surrounded the beast making the cavern smell of eternal death. Tip stood in the clearing at the end of his path, knowing that the battle would be the biggest of his life, past, present and future. He raised his shield to the glowing mouth of the dragon, now roaring and was engulfed in red flame, his tail instantly burnt to a crisp and his hair singed. He charged with his sword raised. The bards would sing his name.
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Aug 21, 2017 06:51
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nice
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Aug 21, 2017 15:36
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 What Up Nerds, it's Week 264: Dystopia With A View  As I assume the bloody crown and sceptre of office, I'm suddenly seeing the bright side of this little Mad Maxian pastiche we've bombed, blasted, and irridiated our once-green earth into. Its probably still looking pretty grim down there in the poet pits, but hey, try to have a lil' perspective and remember your suffering is someone else's profit! This week, Write about the winners of a Dystopian society. And no, you can't write about present day America, but fantasy and historical settings are on the table alongside the usual sci-fi. Whether your protagonist is one of the ruling class or merely a toadie, whether they understand the horror around them or are completely oblivious, I wanna see someone who at least starts the tale with a happy outlook on this brave new world. To get you into the mindset of inflicting your petty authority on all those beneath you, When you sign up you will provide a flash rule for the next person to sign up. Flashrules must be in the form of IN A WORLD WITH [THING] or IN A WORLD WITHOUT [THING] and should be firmly in the realm of cruel and unusual. YOUR WORDCOUNT IS 1500 WORDS AND YOU'D HAVE TO BE AN IDIOT TO MISS THIS PART OF MY POST. Signups Close Twelve A.M. PST Friday Submissions Close Twelve A.M. PST Sunday And to start off the chain of misery, the first signup will be writing IN A WORLD WITH FAERIE AUTOCRATS. ThirdEmperor fucked around with this message at 21:27 on Aug 21, 2017 |
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Aug 21, 2017 20:28
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Questions! Is there a word count? What is the word count? What date is the sign up deadline? What date is the posting deadline? What is the land speed of an American alligator?
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Aug 21, 2017 21:22
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Aesclepia posted:Questions! Is there a word count? What is the word count? What date is the sign up deadline? What date is the posting deadline? What is the land speed of an American alligator? in a quantum sense, both yes and no. it's 12. april 20th, 2069. also april 20th, 2069. depends, is it radioactive or not?
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Aug 21, 2017 21:24
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Who cares about the ruuuuuuuules IN A WORLD LITTERED WITH SPACE DEBRIS
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Aug 21, 2017 21:27
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We have always been at war with Eastasia and the wordcount has always been 1,500.
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Aug 21, 2017 21:34
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Dr. Kloctopussy posted:Who cares about the ruuuuuuuules I'll take this Flash for next: the world is out of something unexpected (not water, fuel, etc.); and it's causing lots of problems
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Aug 21, 2017 21:37
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In with crabs unexpected rule In a world where everything is automated
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Aug 21, 2017 21:45
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To the reeducation quotes with both of you!  crabrock posted:I'll take this. Jay W. Friks posted:In with crabs unexpected rule
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Aug 21, 2017 21:51
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In with automation. In a world with no animals.
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Aug 21, 2017 22:06
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Captain_Indigo posted:In with automation. In. In a world without greed.
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Aug 21, 2017 22:31
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crabrock posted:I'll take this toxx up you sloppily deconstructed fail burger and in with whatever is above me. next: in a world where electricity has woken up
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Aug 21, 2017 22:37
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In. In a world where all children are born with autism.
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Aug 21, 2017 22:57
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Toadsmash posted:In. ok stand back everyone i got this. in. IN A WORLD WHERE A FUNGAL HIVEMIND HAS LIBERATED HUMANITY FROM ITS SUFFERING
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Aug 21, 2017 23:47
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Sitting Here posted:ok stand back everyone i got this. in. In with this. In a world where the oceans have turned to acid.
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Aug 22, 2017 00:25
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Wizgot posted:In a world where the oceans have turned to acid. In In a world without secrets
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Aug 22, 2017 00:48
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Thranguy posted:In inIn a world where there is one universal faith
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Aug 22, 2017 00:53
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QuoProQuid posted:
IN In a world where most people are illiterate
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Aug 22, 2017 01:55
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Crits I usually open up every fresh batch crits with some nice hot ranting and raving over everyone’s general idiocy and utter lack of reading comprehension. But… no one hosed up the prompt this week. I’m stunned. I’m literally stunned. It’s almost depressing that my bar is set so low that when everyone just reads the prompt I’m happy but, you know what, I’m not going to focus on that. I’m just going to be pleased with you chucklefucks. No dms this week No one was awful. In fact, unwantedplatypus might not have lost on another week. The story wasn’t terrible. It just had some-- well-- rather egregious grammatical, spelling, and formatting issues. Good news, though, platypus? Those are all fixable. Don’t quit like a little bitch just because you lost. You’ll never get better that way. You get better by writing more. By entering week after week, writing more, getting critiques, writing more, learning from your mistakes, and writing more. There’s no shortcut to greatness here. Just the simple truth that becoming proficient at a craft takes time and effort. No hms this go round. No one was particularly great. There were only maybe two people that even attempted something adventurous with their mythological creature. Most stories involved a brave somebody attacking and slaying a bad dragon. By no means a bad way of going at the prompt. But if you wrote that kind of story, and a lot of you did, what was there to make yours special? Why should yours have stood out? Why should yours have stood out not just from the other entries this week but all of dragon-slaying canon? You should always try to bring something new to the table. And if you can’t bring something new then at least bring something that was a lot of fun. Again. Nothing was awful. I appreciate that. I really do. Especially since so many people who couldn’t even bother to sign up decided to poo poo all over the thread for some reason this week. Thanks for that. I’m sure I won’t remember you next time I’m a judge because I’m a very normal person and not at all prone to fits of irrational grudge making ha ha ha On to the crits! sitting here -- Threefold Law I can usually tell your writing. I couldn't hear. This didn't read like you. I think because it's kind of sloppy. Probably because you submitted so early. Is this what a first draft looks like for you? It seems like you just sat down, cranked out some words, and hit submit. The stuff with Gnaja-Kir was fun. Perhaps this is how I become the serpent. I liked that bit. It was a nice bit of characterization. The relationship between Tehun and Hnuin isn't developed enough. Nor are they developed enough as characters. Nor is the conflict-- their need for change-- built up enough. Also, strange crit here I know, but I found your sentences lack variation. Lots of short sentences. Made me read it staccato. There were some places I might have combined a bunch of short ones into a long flowing sentence which builds and rolls and continues on in that old-timey story teller kinda way. I don’t know. I don’t know how valuable any of this is because I suspect you might have had a neat idea of how you wanted to wrap everything together but then it was almost the weekend and you still had to work on your novel so you just said gently caress it it’s good enough Uranium Phoenix -- Force of Nature Cut your first paragraph. Your second does a much better job at showing me how big the dragon is. Telling me is boring. It has a literal ecosystem living on it-- that's a super rad way of demonstrating size. What was the point of Uchenna hiring the two warriors? What was the point of writing two separate characters? They don't read particularly different. They don't do different things. Combine them and what do you lose? What is your conflict here? Nothing really stood in Unchenna's way. She just headed towards the dragon while stuff happened around her and then she killed it. Boom. It kinda felt like a Call of Duty game when you’re playing the campaign. Just keep going forward no need to do anything. Boom. She didn't grow as a character. She just kept... going forward. Kind of boring for your main character to have nothing change. If I’m riding the rails, I don’t want to see the rails you know what I mean? unwantedplatypus -- Dragon-Slayer You submitted days early and so you lost a lot of time you could have spent editing. Layers=/=lairs, of example. Did you write this in googledocs or word and then copy pasted it over? That’s fine if you did. I’d definitely recommend that over writing it all in the reply box. But you will need to go in and manual insert paragraph breaks. Same with dialogue. Indentions don’t carry over. Formating is one of those things that when done right is unnoticeable. But when you gently caress it up it becomes a huge eyesore. Captain Indigo -- The Gift Conceptually, this was the most interesting story this week. I very much enjoyed the juxtaposition between tribal and city living, between magic and technology, and the narrow distance the two had in terms of geography . Sometimes authors will feel compelled to over explain things and you didn’t and it worked in your favor. I wanted to know more about your world in a good way. Your opening was weak. Probably because you were grasping at how to begin your story. That’s fine. Happens to us all. Most of the time you can go back and cut it all. Get right to the good stuff. Okua -- The Trick Setting up the gold spell illusion with “Perhaps she had simply cast a quick glamour-spell to hide some nervous tick” was a masterful bit of writing and I loved it. Story had a solid flow. It was easy to read. Dialogue was natural. Good story, if but a little basic. See dragon. Bad dragon. Kill dragon. I would have loved for you to have tied in something a little more motivating or invested a little more in the relationship between the protagonist and Calla. That probably would have earned you the win. Thranguy -- Monsters, And Nothing Besides Solid title. Solid opener. Solid story. Really the only thing I didn’t like was the dragon fight. Kind of felt like a hamfisted way of ending it. The eyes never stopped glowing. That should be significant in some way since you ended it with it’s own space. Instead it kinda just feels like you thought it sounded cool so you enter enter before the sentence. ThirdEmperor -- If We Don't Die We'll Likely Live This would not have won another week. It is awfully unpolished and there are a great many loose ends that need to be tied up. But drat if it isn’t loving cool. Great descriptions. Great world. Great creation. I felt a little like a little kid again where I didn’t totally get everything that was going on but I just absolutely loved reading it. I’m not sure there is higher praise. Jay W. Friks -- F.D.D. Man, this was all over the place in terms of quality. The opening quotes-- something I don’t particularly dig anyway when it comes to short stories-- really do you a disservice. They seem to be setting up a totally different story than the one that follows. Why did only the blue dragon get a name? And why did it get a name that rhymed with “blue?” “Let us erase our careless parent from this world” is a cool line but you don’t set it up. This could have been a cool story if you made it more of a relationship thing. Neglectful parent and all that. All the other stuff, all the other descriptions and the banishment and everything, is just set dressing for an actual story. For an actual conflict. For an opportunity for character growth. For… well… whatever it’s for it never happened. And it doesn’t matter how pretty the set is if the play being performed is boring. sebmojo -- I will balance the moon upon my finger and spin it like a ball ayo right on time Lovely writing but so rushed there at the end that whatever point you were trying to make was lost. I can tell you were aiming for some level of poignancy but you never build it up enough to achieve. I liked reading it. But I wish it had actually meant something. wizgot -- The bards will sing Aight. That wasn’t bad. You definitely had some cool stuff in here. The sentience stuff was interesting. The dialogue, though limited, was brisk and effective. That’s always good. You definitely were too married to that fight scene in the opening, though. I would have cut everything and started at “The snake could not grip with its convulsing body and began to slip.” I don’t need to watch the fight. But knowing the fight happened would be cool. And the following sentences do a good enough job of alluding to a great and awful battle with the snake but lets the reader imagine it in their own way. The ending sucked. But I know you just slapped it on there so you can submit. Start writing early next time you sign up. It’s a shame to waste a good story on laziness and poor time management.
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Aug 22, 2017 05:58
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good crittin ty trex
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Aug 22, 2017 06:06
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Ceighk posted:IN In In a world where love is the deadliest poison Edit : TO APPEASE OUR DARK OVERLORD IN A WORLD WITH POISONOUS LOVE Liquid Communism fucked around with this message at 08:49 on Aug 22, 2017 |
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Aug 22, 2017 06:53
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Liquid Communism posted:In in In a world where gods are our pets
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Aug 22, 2017 07:01
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sebmojo posted:good crittin ty trex Ditto
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Aug 22, 2017 07:24
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Fumblemouse posted:in IN In a world without a sky
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Aug 22, 2017 13:46
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Mercedes posted:IN IN a world without sexual dimorphism.
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Aug 22, 2017 13:52
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big scary monsters posted:IN a world without sexual dimorphism. IN a world where eating meat is punishable by death.
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Aug 22, 2017 18:26
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Fleta Mcgurn posted:
In a world without language (Also thanks for the crit Tyrannosaurus, and the motivation)
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Aug 22, 2017 20:05
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in a world with your fate determined via the astrological magic of ConStella, auged out rich girl who controls the placement of stars in the sky edited to be in a world with thing take the moon fucked around with this message at 22:54 on Aug 22, 2017 |
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Aug 22, 2017 22:16
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in a world where dogs rule over people
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Aug 22, 2017 23:13
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