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Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


I'm back in, shitheads.

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Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.





--

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1jYO64l0fM

Safer havens - 534 words

As soon as he falls asleep, he drops the ice axe and I pounce. I barely have enough strength left in me to move a muscle, but it's still enough. I just need to get on top. One arm over his nose and mouth, he's mine. I can't feel the sweat freezing on my exposed arm. Stopped feeling my arms hours ago. He struggles for the axe, but it's too late. Any strength he had left is lost. I'd say he died quickly, but the line is blurred here. He died days ago.

I like his jacket. Fur lining and a hood. I spend days getting it off him, then I realize it's only five minutes. I take bite from my last protein bar. Five bites left.

I leave the gas station. I have to struggle with the door even though it's only an hour since I arrived. Snow up to my ankles. I grab the skis next to the door, wind tears me to ribbons. I don't even know if the jacket helps, can't feel anything anyway. I kneel down and prepare to take off my gloves, realize I left them by the corpse. I laugh and shake my head, feel the dizziness. I sit down for a moment, just a moment.

One more bite. I enter the gas station again. Spot my gloves. Back out, more snow, skis on. The charred sign next to the station says LIFORN. I have a brother in Los Angeles. Last safe haven I know of.

It takes me an hour to realize it's the one I left dead in the station. By then I'm in the suburbs. The houses form uniform lines along the road. A long gate to the city. Windows broken, doors kicked in. The sameness of the suburbs never changed, it's all the same pattern. Same broken windows, all doors kicked in. The snow form lines of mounds where long dead cars lay buried.

I'm not long from home, just down this hill, past that store. I remember running to the store during the winter. Colder weather, mom wanted me to wear a scarf.

I could use a scarf, I could use some shoes. I'm in the doorway now, looking at the empty spot on the wall where the coats used to hang. I remember this place as a warm comfort, I could close the door and I'd be safe. The door hasn't been closed in a year or more. The snow runs down the hall and into the living room, like the outside world puked despair into my home. I wonder why I'm home. My brother said he'd found a gas station, I should go there, he said it it's safe. I could use some new shoes.

I turn around and I'm knocked down. The girl is no more than a wisp of life, but she has more strength than me in cold blue arms. I grab for my knife, realize I left it in my brother's leg.

I'm not sure if I'm dead, the line is blurred. She removes my jacket, it feels like hours but I barely feel a thing. I should find my brother.

Black Griffon fucked around with this message at Mar 31, 2013 around 16:33

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


http://hrsbstaff.ednet.ns.ca/davidc...sevenchairs.htm

Let's dance.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Nubile Hillock posted:

Safer havens - 534 words

I was a fly's eyelash away from declaring this one winner. It's amazingly tight. It hits the prompt, it matches the music... It's not a story (should I be yelling?)... It's some part of a larger whole, some snapshot into whatever you're working on. You know what you're doing. You had at least 500 more words with which to draw us deeper. You chose not to use them. I don't want to say there's no narrative arc, because that's untrue. Your arc is underdeveloped, it falls short. I don't feel for the characters, I don't really know where they are or what theyre doing. I have full confidence that you could tell me these things. You chose not to. It had me on the edge of my seat, your smoke and mirrors is top-notch. An excerpt from a chapter is not the same thing as a story, though. Develop this and let me read it, please.

Good stuff! I worried that I was far too rusty since I took a break from the last TD thread, so good to know I still have the moves. I'll work on what you mentioned and make it into something real.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Martello posted:

holy poo poo like 100 posts...gently caress you guys

A-bloo-bloo motherfucker. 45 pages and a fuckload of the old thread more like it.

Black Griffon fucked around with this message at Apr 3, 2013 around 00:15

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


I just got home, I'm quite hungover, I'm terrifically happy and I'm certain my piece won't be done on time. Oh well.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Martello posted:

black_griffon.txt

I have a reputation to uphold babe.

Also; Prowling of the Night Raider by kangaroojunk

What the gently caress have I gotten myself into.

What the gently caress have I gotten myself into.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Drunk write is soul of Thunderdome get your loving rear end in gear.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Prowling of the Night Raider by kangaroojunk lost like a motherfucker with 231 words.

Sudden Loss - 326 words

Marian ran the whole way from the Wendy's, across red lights and down busy streets. She reached the laundromat breathless and barely managed to open the door. The cop inside stopped her.

"No, I need to find-" Marian started.

"I'm sorry, I need you to calm down, this is a crime scene."

"Jessica, where's Jessica?"

"You're Marian?"

"Yes."

The cop nodded, and for a moment he looked down, didn't say a word.

Then he said, "I need you to understand that it's bad. They're doing the best they can, but it's bad."

The cop put a big arm around Marian's shoulder and led her further into the laundromat, to the backdoor where flashing lights streamed through the small window, and made a chicken wire pattern on the walls and washing machines. Blue and red on thick glass, illuminating deeper red trails on the floor. Police radios and angry voices receded to a dull rumble, and for some reason, a washing machine still on spin cycle rushed like thunder though Marian's head.

Drowning until the cop opened the door.

--

He woke up in a garden, every muscle aching and covered in red. He'd cut himself on the way here?

No.

"What the gently caress did I do?"

No no no, oh God no.

He guessed he had an hour left before he crashed. Still on the wave, he could still ride. He cracked fingers and realized he clutched a pair of panties. In the house a light switched on, and he ran. He didn't see the clothesline before it was too late. The high made it worse, they found him tangled in a panic attack.

--

They'd just covered up Jessica, moved the stretcher into the ambulance. Her cute button nose made a dent in the white fabric and Marian were left with memories of three words repeated once.

The cop with the big arms said "We got him," but all she heard was deafening spin cycle.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


By the way Martello, you need to find a way to make kangaroojunk read the original Prowling of the Night Raider at the wedding.
Edit: Include it in your vows.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


I'm loving thirsting for a crit here. Also I'm in on whatever.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


gently caress, I completely forgot about this, sorry about that.

Fuckheads.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


I'm in.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


THUNDERBRAWL ENGAGE

CancerCakes vs. Jagermonster

Pick a picture from the PYF Awkward/Ugly thread and write a story about "a day in the life" of the chosen unfortunate(s). I want something that's either hilarious or has a genuine emotional punch. Anyone can write lazy sarcastic satire about a sweaty nerd, you have 450 words to give me something more.

Word stinkyhole: 450
Due date: 23:59 GMT, Sunday April 28 (sooner is better)

Black Griffon fucked around with this message at Apr 25, 2013 around 23:50

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


I just got home from something that took much longer than expected, but for once I actually have a close-to-finished piece. It'll just be a few hours late, because five seconds after I hit Submit Reply I'll be asleep.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Birdseed - 1167

Menacha's captains rode the solar winds out of Lyria's Reach, and with murderous haste they crossed the stellar gulf and saw at least the storms of Uhara stretch far from pole to pole. Amber bands of gruesome fire pulsed around Uhara's equator, and as elderwood hulls touched atmosphere, Menacha called out to split the fleet and scout both hemispheres. The clouds grew thick around her ship andř she exchanged a few last words with vice admiral Athons before the scry went dark. They were deep in it now, the fires of Uhara forced silence.

They broke the cloud layer over the southern hemisphere after an hour. The sea beneath bore vicious waves, but Menacha was worse than any defense the oceans of Uhara could conjure up. When they were a few hundred meters over the surface, Menacha broke a seal and opened the door to the upper deck. Rain and wind filled the cabin, but she walked out and closed the door behind her. Alone now, no crew, no scry. The rest of them would scamper out when they hit the sea, but she carried her impatience like a seal of honor. It had led her to this planet in the first place. She grabbed a rope just before touchdown, and she didn't notice the crash that rocked the ship. As the crew streamed out from the lower decks, she stared at the sea, wondered where the search would start. Behind her, masts rose and sails unfurled, and without her orders, the fleet moved.

The southern fleet spread out and began the search. Somewhere on Uhara, the last of the divine fire hid. On every ship a hundred seers chanted prayers to the Dragon, hoping to see a glimpse of the fire. Half the flock was already blind from the light, but that made it even clearer that the fire was close by. Menacha had seen the fire herself. Any other woman would have her brain burned out from the sight, but Menacha was bound by a higher purpose. To the west, wisps of land rose from the fog, and they found their first defenders.

-

The northern fleet was found by the defenders, and that spelled their doom. They dove from the skies and rose from the sea, bringing with them the fires of Uhara like so many lances. Vice admiral Athons rode his ship close to the largest Defender ship, and with a roar he focused every seers mind on the scry in his chamber. Elderwood splintered against the metal hulls of the defenders, and the vice admiral threw himself from the deck onto the other ship. With broken bones he dragged himself onto the deck, and prayed that his last sight would be sent through the scry to Menacha. A man stood over him, clad in armor and with a strange sword, but just a man.

-

The fishing village barely had time to raise the alarm before they were wiped out. The few guards gave up their weapons once Menacha's flagship landed in the main square. Four hundred soldiers leapt from the ship and dragged the villagers from their homes, and in the skies, two score ships with kept watch. Menacha roared and cut down the unarmed guards, the image of the northern fleet burning on the sea clear in her mind. Once every villager had been collected and put in the square next to the flagship, all nine hundred of them, a thousand seers surrounded them, electric arcs leaping from swords to ground as they chanted, and with a yell, nine hundred hearts stopped and the divine fire was as clear to Menacha as the sun.

They took the fleet over the mountains to the heart of the world, a charred wasteland radiating out from a brilliant point. On the surface so close to the center, water boiled and sulfur spewed from vicious vents, but the ships of Lyria's Reach were built to ride the fires of suns. Menacha gave the orders to unfurl the sails, and with greater haste and the strength of the fire they rode. Above them, the equatorial band burned bright, and as the earth blackened below, weaker minds began to scream. So close to the fire of the gods, only the strongest wills could survive. Menacha stood strong at the bow, will alone keeping the heat at bay by will alone. What remained of her crew cowered below, protected by iron and wood, but broken still.

Like a ship breaks atmosphere and welcomes the void in silence, Menacha's fleet broke the ring of fire and met the last of the Defenders. In hidden tunnels and strange gates they'd all flocked to their last refuge, to protect their most prized possession from the strangers. Menacha spread out her mind and calmed the souls of her broken crew. On every ship the Lyrians woke from the divine nightmare, and prepared to meet the Defenders. The fire which had broken Athons' fleet raced towards Menacha, but a wave of her hand forced it back. As a thousand Defenders were obliterated in the blink of an eye, Menacha realized that she was the only one who could ever complete this task. Only Menacha. Furious bolts raced from the fleet and picked off the Defenders, and slowly but surely, they lost faith, broke and fled.

The inner sanctum of the fire was calm and cold, and the last few Defenders stood there, heads bowed. Menacha touched down on soft grass, and stepped into the garden of the gods. In the center of the great circular chamber that held the garden, a single mechanical bird flew from flower to flower, resting now and again and watching the invaders. Menacha ordered her crew to stand down, and alone she approached the bird, reached out a hand and took it from its perch. It didn't protest, and Menacha held it like a child, close to her chest. All the way back to the ship, she spoke to it and listened to its answers the last of the Defenders begged and cried, screaming in a strange language. Had Menacha understood them, she would have known that they begged for entrance, but she wouldn't have granted them passage anyway. Not out of spite or anger, but because of what she knew came next.

The band was already dim as she drove the fleet from Uhara. The heat was only a shadow as they broke the clouds, and the moment they broke atmosphere, Uhara died. The bird had gone quiet, perhaps out of anticipation. They fled the dying planet and when she knew the moment approached, Menacha held no speech. Almost done, nearly there.

Menacha opened the door to the void, and the cold welcomed her. She floated out, holding the bird close. She whispered one last thing. A request, a prayer.

The fleet and half of Uhara turned to dust as the bird escaped cold lifeless hands, and the Dragon finally freed fled to feast on Lyria's Reach.

Black Griffon fucked around with this message at Apr 29, 2013 around 19:33

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Signing up. Writing a story for Four Balls: Treacherous Tales of Steampunk Adventures.

Also, judgment for the brawl is coming in eight hours or so. Just got a new job, so it's been a busy couple of days.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Why the gently caress did I chose steampunk? I loving hate every moment of this. gently caress.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Dutifully submitted to Four Balls: Treacherous Tales of Steampunk Adventures. Please consider my thrilling story for your next issue.

Breath of Death - 940

Flynn had a policy when it came to business: Anyone who couldn't keep time was worthless.

Mr. Cartan was thirty minutes late.

Flynn had chosen an alley just of Main Street for the exchange. He sat in a small café nestled in the living room of a second floor flat, and he had a perfect view through a small window by his table. Every few minutes he'd pick at the curtains, sending an annoyed glance down both ends of the street, and every time he'd huff, take a sip of rum and shake his head. He suspected the owner was already quite suspicious, but that didn't matter.

By the time Mr. Cartan arrived, Flynn was on his feet and on the way out. He had his hand in his jacket, just about to pull out a knife when Mr. Cartan opened the door. Flynn sighed, left the weapon holstered and held out his hand to Mr. Cartan.

"You're late," said Flynn.

Mr. Cartan shook Flynn's hand, "Precaution."

Flynn led Mr. Cartan to his table, "Sit," snapped his fingers at the waitress, "Explain."

"Lerathan's men followed me the moment I left the factory," he sat down, put his bowler hat on the table, "I had to lose them. That took longer than expected."

"You can't be sure you lost them. Why did you come here at all? Have you gone mental?"

"I'm sure. Not that you're a stranger to attracting attention with that drat metal horse of yours."

Flynn glared at Mr. Cartan as he ordered a gin and tonic and a slice of meat pie. He spoke softly to the waitress, kinder than Flynn.

"Show me the device."

"My compensation?"

"Fine," Flynn snapped open his briefcase, removed a thick envelope, slammed it on the table, "Show me the device."

With the same softness and kindness with which he spoke to the waitress, Mr. Cartan retrieved a small box from his coat, opened it and produced a kerchief wrapped around something. He set it down on the table, like it was a fragile egg, and slid it over to Flynn. Oblivious to Mr. Cartan's expression, Flynn grabbed the kerchief by one end and shook out the contents.

"It works?" he said.

"Mr. Marchidian says it does."

"Good. Leave."

Mr. Cartan got up and donned hat and coat. He smiled at the waitress, tipped his hat at Flynn and left. Flynn waited thirty minutes before he snapped his fingers at the waitress again.The moment she was close enough, Flynn stabbed her three times and threw the knife at the owner by over by the bar. It hit his throat and he went down gurgling blood. Flynn grabbed the device, leant down and laid it on the waitresses lips. She still had a few breaths left in her, just as he'd planned for. For a moment, just small one, he considered praying.

-

Mr. Cartan was quite safe where he stood, on a balcony some way down the alley, the same couldn't be said for the building with the café and the pedestrians around it. The small light on his watch lighted up; with a breath the device was armed. He pressed a button on the side of the watch.

It started with a small puff that blew out the window by Flynn's table, that was Mr. Cartan's signal to don shaded glasses. He didn't think the initial blast would kill Flynn, just toss him across the room, leave him baffled for just about 3.5 seconds, enough time to see the beginning of the chain reaction. The second blast blew the facade off the building in a huge gout of flame, and in the whining echo of the explosion, the hint of desperate screams could be heard. Flynn's mechanical horse added an almost comical element to the scene as it tried to rise pitifully on two legs. Mr. Cartan left the balcony, and chose a door that exited to Main Street. He boarded his carriage and retrieved the wireless telegraph from his briefcase.

"test complete successful awaiting new orders stop cartan"

The whining from the explotion still remained when he got his answer.

"newcastle stop marchidian"

The wireless telegraph dropped from limp hands. For five minutes Mr. Cartan sat there, staring into empty space. The carriage stopped.

"Get-", the word was barely audible, Mr. Cartan cleared his throat, "Get moving."

The door opened and a tall, brusque woman entered the cab. She sat down oposite of Mr. Cartan, leant back and closed her eyes.

Mr. Cartan got the message. He did the job or he was dead.

-

Ryan donned his gas mask. Air quality was satisfactory today, he wouldn't have to wear the mask in the lunch room. Small joys. He could see the soft sphere of the sun close to the tower of the Newcastle Cathedral. Rare sight.

He boarded the tram and busied himself with prayer on the way to the factory. Official policy was to pray to Mars in wartime, but Ryan had a soft spot for Minerva. He nodded to the supervisor on the way in. Mr. Cartan, nice enough fellow, scared easily if a fight went down on the factory floor, but nice enough. There was a woman next to him. Tall and grim. Ryan hadn't seen her before. The next fellow was not as nice. Tharon, the commissar.

"New gas masks," he said, hate in each word.

Ryan grabbed the mask from the commissar and gave the label a casual glance. "Marchidian Industries, Lot Number 15, Mask 599/2000".

-

On Mr. Cartan's watch, the light went from red to green. All devices armed.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Let me in.

CancerCakes posted:

Black Griffon I need to know if I need to buy PMs for Jagermonster, brawl judgement please!

Crap, I knew I'd forgotten something.

Jagermonster with Best Worst Office Party, your story is kind of sweet, but pretty boring, and there's too much muttering, grumbling and squealing. Make use of "said". You've made good use of the picture, and the characters are good enough for such a short word count.

CancerCakes with Metastasis, your story is well crafted, but it's neither funny nor touching. It's entertaining and humorous, don't get me wrong, but it didn't quite reach the mark in regards to the prompt. Still, it's well written and has some neat touches.

I declare CancerCakes the winner because despite Best Worst Office Party being closer to the prompt, Metastasis has better writing and a more poignant ending. Hooray and so forth.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Erik Shawn-Bohner posted:

I'm in a really good mood today How are ya'll?

I've been sick for the last two weeks, but according to the doc I should be healthy by the 17th of May, which is Norways national day, which means I'll get drunk at seven in the morning and walk in a parade with the student theater while yelling quotes from assorted plays at scared kids.

So I'm good.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


In, even though I should devote all my time to my final the 28th. gently caress.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


The Crescent of Fate - 70 words

Yeah, gently caress me and signing up for poo poo when I shouldn't. I have 400 pages of medical anthropology I need to get through, and I'm barely able too keep myself awake as it is. Might be I finish the story when I'm done with my final, which should be in about 36 hours. Might be I'm drunk for five days after that. Might be I do both. gently caress everything anyway.

Black Griffon fucked around with this message at May 27, 2013 around 01:55

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Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time. I know who you are.

You are destiny.


Jopoho posted:

Personally, I'd avoid the first person in a fable, but the moral is reasonably clear.

Thanks for the feedback, and I forgot to add a title, silly me.

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