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Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


I'm in. First time, so I'd rather fly solo. I have a decent idea or three, and a few terrible ones. There are so many three legged things and [adjective] cocks that erotica is calling out.

Don't worry. They are the terrible ideas.

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Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


Masonity breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that 'On one hand' hadn't come in last, or even received a dishonorable mention. "I really thought I was for it!" he explained. "When the early entries were posted and I quite rightly had the lowest score, I actually saved my current avatar, so I could re-buy it one day!"

"But you've made money writing terrible erotica, thanks to this very website!" his conscience demanded. "You owe them better than the tripe you posted last time. You owe them a decent attempt!"

"I guess you are right." Masonity grinned. "Time to get writing I guess... After I console Benny on winning a sparkly new avatar!"


ps. The "console benny on winning a new avatar" idea should be reserved for Benny himself maybe?

Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


Shotgun - 650 words.

"Two Gin & Tonics please barman?" Mark begged. "And a tequila. I think I'll need it!"



"So, congratulations are in order Mark?" Elisabeth sipped her drink, smiling across the table. "I always said you was too good for this place."
"Yeah." Mark sighed, forcing a weak smile.
"What's wrong?" She inquired. "You fought hard for that scholarship. Don't tell me... Cold feet?"
"New York." Mark explained. "It's a long way away."
Mark took a large gulp of his drink, searching for courage. "I'll miss..." he hesitated. "Everyone."
"I'm sure you'll make a ton of new friends! And hey, we all know what a British accent does to those American chicks!" Elisabeth teased. "I'm sure you'll forget all about little old Stonybridge within a week!"
Mark shook his head, gulping down more of his drink. "It won't be the same. I.... I mean, I don't want some random American girl. I want... Another drink. Your round?"
Idiot! He thought. Just tell her, what have you got to lose?
"Another G&T?" Elisabeth asked.



Elisabeth returned, two drinks in hand. So, Mark has a crush on someone. Probably Emily. She thought sadly. And I get to hear him mope about how he has to leave her behind. Still, that's what friends do! She told herself.
"So, who is she?" Elisabeth goaded.
"There isn't anyone." Mark defended. "It's just..."
"Oh come on. "I'll miss... everyone!" she teased. Why don't I just drop it?
"Honest Liz. It's just so far. I doubt I'll get to see the gang more than once a year, living all the way over in the states.
Liz pushed the hair away from her face. "So, you wasn't about to declare your undying love for me?" Idiot. Idiot idiot idiot! She chided herself. Now his last memory of you will be a half drunk come-on, while he's pining for someone else!
"I... Kinda was?" Mark shrugged meekly.
Elisabeth froze, gaping. IF he's just teasing I'll loving kill him! She thought, trying to compose herself.



I've blown it! Mark thought. Look at her, she was only kidding, and I went and spoiled everything!
"So... All this... You being unsure about New York, it's all down to me?" Elisabeth doubted. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"
"I was worried you'd reply like this!" Mark snapped. Calm down, she's the one who should be cross! He told himself.
"I, uh, sorry." She meekly replied. "I've actually liked you for a while. I just didn't think you'd be interested!"
"So, where do we go from here?" Mark asked. Ask me to stay! his eyes pleaded. I'll do it for you.
"You don't leave until September?" Elisabeth offered. "We still have this summer? And then..."
"You won't ask me to stay?" He interrupted.
"No." she explained, a tear forming. "I couldn't do that. This is too big. You can't give it up, not just for me!"
"So we just pretend I'm not going anywhere?" He questioned.
"What else can we do?" She asked, touching his hand. "You have to go, and I have to stay."



Do I? Elisabeth asked herself. "Or maybe I don't?" She grinned. "We've been best friends for years now." And I've wanted you the entire time!



"As long as I can remember!" Mark answered. And I've always loved you!



"I'm sure there's some kind of visa I can apply for. I'll work in a coffee shop, or a bar, or something! It's New York! There must be work for a pretty young English girl!" She suggested. I can't believe I'm offering to move half way across the world for him... But I will!



"My scholarship comes with the offer of a Green Card... For me... And my family." Mark stammered. "I... uh... You could... If we... Will you marry me?"



"Yes." She gasped.

Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


Crap. I just "edited" my post to bold the title. Then I realized there was a no editing rule. Sorry.

Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


I'm in. Let's see if I can actually manage something I'm not embarrassed to submit this time.

Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


Bonfire Night

I shivered, tucking my hands into my pockets to keep them warm, as I struggled through the crowd. The sulfuric stench of gunpowder left behind by the fireworks hung heavily in the icy night air, mingling with over applied perfume and the occasional whiff of weed. I have to get out of here. I thought to myself as I headed towards the edge of the crowd. I knew most of them would be there all night, enjoying the fire jugglers, the carnival games and the overpriced booze and other recreational drugs on offer.

I broke through the crowd. I was lost. I fumbled with my phone. drat thing, no signal! I realised it's built in GPs was pretty much useless without a working connection to download the surrounding map.

The river runs along the south side of the park, so if I head in that direction, I can figure out where I am! I switched over to the compass app and headed in the right direction, weaving my way down a twisty, mud pathway, the sounds of the firework display rapidly fading, dampened by the trees surrounding my route.

It's getting a bit dark here, this path is a bit too overgrown for night really! I thought, and turned my phone on to it's flashlight setting. A thin beam of light stretched out from it, casting frightening shadows.

After a while, I started to worry. How far am I from the river? I should have broke through the trees by now. Then the world turned dark. My phone's battery died. Panic set in. Something primal inside me screamed out in terror at being lost, alone, on a cold dark winters night, trapped in the middle of a heavily forested part of the park. My rational mind fought hard to keep it in check, to keep it's silent scream just that. With no other option available, I decided to push on.

As I walked on something large, about the size of a Labrador, brushed past my legs. I froze, my eyes darting down, but I couldn't see below my own waist. The darkness pressed in, enclosing me in it's icy grasp. I must have imagined it! I told myself. Even without my eyes I would have heard something walking up to me.

I gathered my resolve and pushed on. *pad* *pad* *pad* *pad*. Only the sound of my own footsteps accompanied me. Once or twice I stopped, suddenly, to see if the padding carried on without me moving. To see if something was indeed following me, using my own steps to mask it's approach. But I heard nothing.

Then it brushed my leg again. It bumped into it, and my hand dropped out of instinct, stroking the silent beast. But my hand found nothing there, the weight vanishing from my leg.

I increased my pace, not wanting to run, but needing to be out from under those trees as quickly as possible. I needed to be out of this park, back in my city. I needed the false dawn of a thousand street lights. I needed the chaotic orchestra of traffic. I needed the smells of grilled onions, week old hot-dogs and month old, hardened buns. *padpadpadpadpadpadpadpad* I hurried down the path. Twice I almost tripped on undergrowth.

Then it was there again. Brushing past me. Walking beside me. It's heavy weight thumping in to my other side this time.

I froze. "what's there?" I asked in vain. For no reply was offered. "Who, or what, are you? And what do you want from me?" Again, no answer.

"Please, leave me alone!" I plead, almost in tears. A low, rumbling growl answered my plea.

That was the final straw. I didn't care how close to the other side I was, I had to get off this path. Back among people. And lights. I turned, and ran back in the direction from which I had came. Ten minutes, I ran, my heart pounding in my chest. When I finally reached the end of the path, the crowds from the display finally appearing in the distance, the harsh temporary floodlights half blinding me, I collapsed on the floor. I'm safe. I'm off that terrible path! I thought.

"You okay mate?" Someone asked, helping me to my feet. I explained i was fine. Told him I had tried to cut through the trees, to get back to the river. To catch my bus home. "Ah, that's not a cut through. It's a walking path, doubles back on itself and ends up just down there!" The man explained, gesturing a few hundred yards further down the main road. All that, and even if I had made it through my gauntlet, I would have ended up almost where I started. I forced a laugh, and asked for directions.

Ten minutes later, I made it to my bus stop. I welcomed the sights and sounds of the city as I walked there. Neon lights inviting tourists in for a drink. Distant arguing. And the constant squeal of sirens racing past in the distance.

I didn't sleep that night. Nor the night after. On the third day, i braved that dark path in the day time. A little way in, something shining caught my eyes. I pushed my way off the path into the trees. I almost threw up when I saw what it was. A silver choke collar. One part caught on a branch, the other still wrapped around the throat of a jet black dog, some sort of mongrel. It was roughly the size of the one that would have brushed past me on the cold night...

Sadness overwhelmed me. The poor thing had got caught. It had choked to death. And all it had wanted was some company. Someone to walk beside, just for a while.

I felt something bump into my thigh. "Good boy. It's okay." I said, glancing down at the dog which wasn't there.

Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


I'm in. Can I get a flash rule please?

Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


I was a massive flake last week, but I'm in again this week. This time I'm hoping to be a massive bounty instead. Mmmm, coconut...

Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


Please note, before you instantly write my story off for breaking the rules, Vantiger Reed isn't the person with the amazing talent, even though he is amazingly talented in his own right. The prompt is fulfilled by both the insect tracker and the bride stealing glazer


An ant in the sap
1065 words

“So, your Majesty, please stop me if I err… You last saw your betrothed last night at sundown. You visited her in that very cottage, then upon leaving bolted the door from the outside. This morning when you came to bring her breakfast the cottage was empty. Yet it was still sealed, from outside, with a lock that yields only to a key you keep around your neck? And rather than calling for the court mage you call for Vantiger Reed? And why are you keeping your fiancée under lock and key in the first place?”

Vantiger Reed, my good friend and ofttimes companion, shook his head sadly. “Your Majesty, please forgive Master Duncrow here. He’s a worthy companion. Of that there’s no doubt. And a better storyteller I’ve yet to meet. But sometimes he lacks in insight. Secondly, everyone knows that a future queen of Landsmouth must spend a month in confinement, her future husband her only contact with the outside world, so that if they are blessed with a child soon after their wedding the nation can be confident it holds a true claim to the throne. But firstly”

“You’ve got all out of order again Vantiger!” I injected.

“Pssht, I am order, Duncrow. In everything I do. I take the chaos of the world and line it up, so it may be read. But as I was saying, the good king didn’t call for his court mage for two reasons. Firstly, this is a magical dead zone. Prenuptial retreats always are, else every wizard in the land would be a potential father to a theoretical heir.”

“Enough! Can you find her and bring her back? That’s all I care about. The stupid whore will have to spend another month cloistered here, but I shall have her for a wife.” The king said, a large vein almost popping out of his reddening forehead.

“Aha, a Dagnesian fire ant, somehow stuck to the wall! How curious! Of course, your Majesty. My retainer is three gold crowns a day. This seems like a fairly simple case so I’m happy to take six up front, with a three day minimum on the investigation.” Vantiger replied.




I must admit, I drew a strange kind of pleasure from seeing the famous Vantiger Reed hit a brick wall in his investigation. He had become obsessed that the ant was the answer, and spent the day searching through the logbooks down at the docks. He was most perplexed to discover that a ship from Dagnesia hadn’t docked in Landsmouth for over a month. Experience has taught me that brick walls are but a momentary delay for Vantiger, so I wasn’t surprised when he suddenly looked up at me, a glint in his eye. “Aha, Duncrow, I have it!” He scribbled on some parchment, then passed it to me with a single gold crown. “There’s the name and address of a man I need. An expert. Offer him the gold crown for an hour’s work, and get him back here fast! I’ll have this case solved by sundown!”




Not half an hour later, I once again stood before Vantiger, as perplexed as ever as to his train of thought. “Good day, Master Spectin. I have need of your amazing talents. I have need of the world’s greatest insect tracker. In yonder corner is a Dagnesian fire ant. I have seen several of them, the last hour. Please, find their place of origin for me!” he asked, and suddenly it fell into place.




We soon stood on the deck of a builder’s vessel. It seemed the fire ants had made a home for themselves in it’s hull.

“Aha, the final pieces fall into place!” Vantiger mused.

“So, they built the cottage, and as such had a secret way in and out?” I asked.

“My dear Duncrow, I can assure you that the cottage was entirely sealed. The only ways in and out are the windows and the doors.” My friend replied. “The escape is far more interesting than a hidden tunnel! But alas, this next part may be dangerous. I need you to wait here. I shall descend into the belly of the beast! If I don’t return within half a bell, bring the king’s guard!”




After about fifteen minutes Vantiger resurfaced, a grin on his face. “I was right, Duncrow. As always! But my, here’s a story that’ll be worth your retelling!

One of the builders, Brad, was originally from Landsmouth. In his youth, he had a childhood sweetheart. However he lacked the funds to lay a proposal at her door. To rectify the matter he joined a company of builders, eventually achieving the rank of master glazer. I dare say no man alive can fit a new window faster than Brad.

Finally having the means to propose to his beloved, Brad encouraged the company to take on the royal wedding. So imagine his dismay when he discovered the ill tempered brute of a king was to marry none other than his childhood sweetheart! Thankfully, he had a plan.

Two nights hence, Brad had snuck to the cottage. He conversed with his beloved via a special sign language they had created in their youth. They made their plans, and Brad made his measurements. And the next day, he returned, armed only with a sheet of glass and several leaves from the Bokyana tree. It seems in his journeys, Brad had discovered a tree with sap filled leaves. I suspected the like when I saw the poor ant trapped in the sap just below the window. Once at the cottage, he waited for the guard to wander off. he then peeled the leaves in half and fitted them to the window. His beloved smashed them from the inside, the leaves preventing any sound from travelling, and keeping the glass safe and together. Brad then refitted the glass in a matter of minutes, then smuggled her back to his ship. Did you hear the slight difference in tone when I was tapping those windows? The fact that one was far newer than the other was obvious!

But alas, they were in love. And the king seems to be a right bastard. So I’m letting them go. I suggest we too make our leave. We have a couple of days to put distance between us and the king before he comes looking for answers!”

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Masonity
Dec 31, 2007

What, I wonder, does this hidden face of madness reveal of the makers? These K'Chain Che'Malle?


I'm in. And annoyed at myself from going from poor to equally poor to better to so bad it gets a dishonorable in my four stories.

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