im gay cuck I'm gay hth Trump Hillary Clinton Bernie Sanders neoliberal
HAPPY NEW THREAD THUNDERDOME HERE ARE CRITS FOR THE LAST WEEK
The Night Winds
I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t have a clue what is happening. I feel like you know what you’re meaning to say and what you’re trying to do but I just can’t figure it out. It’s just, so weirdly written and we’re moving around from ports to ships and then there’s a pronoun of “he” but idk who “he” is, and I don’t think it’s the first mate, but it might be, and I also think there’s a gay lover or something but idk if that’s true or I’m reading too far into it or even reading this story at all. Like, where I am? Who are these people? What is going? What are the stakes? Like, I would say make me care but you don’t even tell me what there is. It’s just like words that are stringed together that are coherent, but don’t add up to anything at all. It’s like, anti-writing. Fascinating. Also, for some reason you’re not capitalizing I’s in contractions, which makes me think you’re relying a little on auto-correct. I don’t know what happened or really anything.
The beginning was tight, interesting, but then it just becomes a dissection on how “War is bad and WWII was absolutely bad” and it’s like, yeah, you’re right, but you don’t anything unique with it. It’s just like, ok cool, I’ve heard this a hundred times before in much more unique and cooler ways Post-WWI and WWII art is super awesome and cool in how they express their anguish because it’s not like “Man war sucks,” it’s usually done by representation of different moments. Look at Max Beckman’s The Night or The Fate of the Animals by Franz Marc (this one was actually painted before WWI but w/e) because they show what you’re trying to do. These pieces are incredibly personal while yours was initially personal, it then descended into “I am the writer saying WWII was bad.” Also, the pieces show their feelings in unique ways while yours is just not very unique. This had the ability to be a good piece, I feel. I am a sucker for war stories. I love what you can do with them, and I love it when people take perspectives of people outside of the soldiers and what war means to people outside of the fighting (that is what makes Anne Frank’s story so powerful and popular after all). However, this just did not feel very honest or personal. Also, the story itself just kind of blows. The plot is - “Lady is sad, continues being sad, then remembers she has a journal and writes about the guy, then she tries to talk to an old friend.” Nothing happens. Well, ok, one thing happens at the end, but it’s like, your character mopes around for a while and now, all of a sudden, she like “welp, time to stop being sad.” Like, I don’t get it. Why now? What’s happened to her in this moment, after a year, that THIS is the moment she’s over it? I mean, if you’re sad for a year, there needs to be something more than “Oh, I remember this journal this had and I wrote in it” to make you not sad anymore. idgi. I liked the rat metaphor though.
The Ballad of Einar
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: USING WORDS LIKE PROMPTLY, QUICKLY, SWIFTLY, ETC. DOES NOT SPEED UP ACTIONS IN YOUR STORY. IT DOES THE OPPOSITE. PLEASE CEASE USING THOSE lovely ADVERBS, THANK YOU. Is this a comedy? Was this supposed to be funny? Because I’m not sure. It’s stuck somewhere between “Generic fantasy” and “Generic fantasy comedy” and I don’t get it I guess. The comedy gets in the way of the story and the story gets in the way of the comedy. The problem with the comedy is that you focus so much on the funny bits that you don’t ever tell a story really. And then the comedy makes you make an ending that’s just “welp, nothing changed lol” so uhhhh why the gently caress do I care? Then your story gets in the way because you feel like you play it straight the entire way through. Like, are the really long names supposed to be funny? Because they’re not. They’re not even close. Like, what’s the joke with the names? Lol fantasy names are dumb? Is that it? Is that all you’ve got. Anyways, this story wasn’t awful I guess because it was so not a comedy (even though I think that was your intention) that it was still an actual story with actual things happening in it so you saved yourself. Still, not funny, at all. At the end of the day, I didn’t laugh and I didn’t care.
I liked this. This was good, well written, engaging, blah blah blah, but I really hated the ending revelation. It’s like, I wishing for something more than a collective consciousness kind of thing. I think you could’ve done something more clever or interesting or thematically interesting or unique and you just settled for this. I also don’t get the relationship between Mia and Evan, since it seems like the thing in the well induces people to join it by using the person it loves or cares about, but Mia and Evan don’t seem to care about each other that much that it doesn’t make sense? Idk. Still, was good. I just wished the whole revelation was more unique rather than a whole “We are legion” kind of deal. There’s something here with the beginning, but you have to pay us with more than “spooky hivemind that lives in the bottom of the well for some reason.”
I also liked this. The writing was solid, really engaging, but weird poo poo just kind of happened in the beginning. Like, wtf, why is this guy who just got sober coming home with a bottle of champagne? Like, I mean I know you’re trying to show character, but nobody, just nobody, is that loving stupid. Like, geez. Then he gets drunk, and I kind of wish you focused the relationship more on the narrator and the little girl. The deadbeat dad or brother or whatever felt pretty cliche and I think if you focused on the humanity of the moment rather than “Dad’s a drunk “ then this could work better. One thing I was spit balling was, while the dad and the mother are fighting, the narrator focuses on the daughter to try and keep the damage to her at a minimum. That way, you get best of both worlds, having the dad and mom fight which I imagine is what you want, and also giving your narrator some agency and goal in this story. Still good, and still the best story this week. Doesn’t mean it’s great.
17 and a half promise
If you use a colon, the next word is capitalized. Gimmick does you no help, story too broad to be truly affecting, not terrible though. This isn’t terribly written, but there’s too much going on in this flash for it ever live up to itself. We start out with this relationship between teenagers, and then you move towards a guy becoming a wizard and becoming a shady, and there’s just too much. You’re packing too much in that I’m not sure what the focus is meant to be. I mean, yeah, the character, but like, there’s nothing for me to hold onto as a specific moment in this story. I’m not sure what’s important. Idk, this wasn’t awful, but it just didn’t engage me. Ent considered HMing this, it’s just, for me, something’s off about it. The wizardry doesn’t really help, the gimmick does really nothing for me because if you took the numbers off, it’d just be paragraphs of prose with no change. There isn’t bad, but I really, don’t hate this and that’s it.
One Last Play
poo poo opening. Supposed to be funny? Idk. Decent story, kind of limited in scope, doesn’t really matter, kind of dumb. I don’t hate this, but idk what to say about this. You wrote a story about a guy hiding a football injury and then he eats celery. Your ending is a sitcom. This story is a sitcom. It had the same “Is this supposed to be funny” aspect of a sitcom and everything. Wow. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t like sitcoms and your story was a sitcom. Every criticism that exists for sitcoms is the same for your story. That’s all I need to say. Your story is a sitcom.
Sitting Here’s Story of Being a Hotel Worker
The dialogue in this is absolutely atrocious, I have to say. Like, c’mon now, people are saying exactly what they want to say. And, idk about you, but in a moment where somebody is crying on a bed, clutching an urn while sprinklers are on, I would not loving say “Would that be that Mrs. Schipper?” Like, wow, that’s just god awful. However, your ending is interesting, I just wish you hadn’t made the guy horribly unlikable and also that you didn’t focus so much on hotel logistics when the real interesting part is “guy with dead wife comes back to his holiday getaway.” I know you're a hotel person but like, nobody loving cares about the person at the front desk, they want to know more about the crotchety old man who’s fulfilling his dead wife’s last wish. This is like Writer Mistakes 101. Bad dialogue, boring opening, main character has no motivation, interesting character isn’t the protagonist but a side character, too long opening, etc. Like, you know better so I feel like I’m wasting my breath with you.
Moving On and Up
Normally, I wouldn't have read this but Ent said "I'm not sure if I should DM this" so then I read it and said "Yeah, I'm ok with a DM." You got a lot of backstory, a lot of names of gods and people and what not, but I have no idea who they are. What Ent says in his results is p. much my feelings on this. It's like I just flipped to a random chapter of a fantasy novel and I have no idea who or what is going on, and you act as if I should know all these names that you pulled out of your rear end. Still, at the end of the day, through all the weird names and nonsense that I do not care about and had me horribly bored, your story is just about two people climbing a tower where you realize why we're climbing a tower when we reach the top of the tower. This was boring and had an impenetrable backstory that I bet you knew what was going on, but in a flash piece, will never, ever work.
flerp fucked around with this message at 01:51 on May 26, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 4, 2016 21:43|
|# ¿ Dec 7, 2021 16:23|
it's a new thread so i think this needs to be said
hey sh you're dumb and you write bad and overall my opinion of you is subpar so brawl me
|# ¿ Jan 4, 2016 23:10|
but i don't disagree so why would i want to fight about it?
because we're friends
also im in
edit: Snail freed from trailing-plant prison—now moves freely, incorporeally through all biological matter.
flerp fucked around with this message at 00:14 on Jan 5, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 5, 2016 00:10|
|# ¿ Jan 5, 2016 06:05|
lovely story in the ~archives~
flerp fucked around with this message at 05:21 on Jan 12, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 11, 2016 03:38|
this is really odd, i dont see a prompt yet, anyone else having this problem?
|# ¿ Jan 12, 2016 05:10|
oh wow i guess i was passed as a judge. well then twist, that's fine, im in, and youre going to flash rule me.
|# ¿ Jan 12, 2016 05:16|
hey sitting here this is spectres' brawl thing, so here you go
“Sometimes,” EVcrao said, “I forget my blood is toxic. I’ll be sitting there, perfectly at peace. Maybe I’ll be talking to someone. I’m completely focused on what they’re saying. Their words are dancing along my tristem and I’ll be lost. And then maybe they’ll stop for a second, try to think of what to say next. And I’ll remember that it’s in me, and there’s no way to get it out.”
“But you forget again,” Sparky said. “Later.”
“That doesn’t help me now,” EVcrao said. She shifted position, bringing herself closer to the robot. His three eyes whirred and focused on her. She knew that this was utilitarian; he used the information to triangulate positioning data, but she still felt, in a deeper part of her, the thrill of attention. Someone’s listening to me, she thought, and I might forget. But she didn’t, for it was cold on Zoiei, this far along on the ellipsoid orbit. Her blood was telling her body it was supposed to be cold, and her body was agreeing.
The stars above Zoiei were constantly moving in brilliant kaleidoscopic patterns. Whoever had engineered the surface, though, had believed in a different philosophy. Everywhere you went,Zoiei was the same. The same ground covered in artificially grown nutri-moss. The same holographically coloured air, indicating comfortable breathability levels. The same dazed looking people and their blank looking mechanoids.
“Sparky,” she said. “What’s lit right now?”
“The depths,” Sparky said. “That’s where the mired children swim with each other. The critical consensus is that the memetic sharing doesn’t capture the essence of their play. That you have to be there to really experience it.”
She thought this over, but not for long. Her body was losing heat, her gelatin beginning to chill. She tried to move one of her tendrils; it moved in slow motion, slower than her thoughts. She felt frustration at this, like she did at the end of every cycle.
“Okay, Sparky,” she said. “I’m ready to sleep now.”
And then Sparky’s eyes were snaking out through the gloom of the Zoiei half-light. She barely registered them. Sparky’s reflexes were thousands of times faster than hers; he used them to control the trajectory and speed of his eyes so perfectly that they were pressed against her head before she could feel the sensation of shock. His eye stalks were as fast as the pulses that radiated from them, washing through her gelatin, splashing against her tristem. Her friend, Sparky. Waves from his core, filtered through his chrome skin, and then, finally, fragmented through his eyes.
It’s not enough, she thought, it’s never enough, but I guess it’s the best we can do right now.
One moment she was looking at Sparky, seeing in his eyes the flickering lights of his thoughts, and the next she was dreaming, her dream, his dream, everyone’s dream, maybe no one’s.
ii. The Sea
The Sea. What was the sea? It wasn’t water. Maybe it was the chemicals sloshing around in your tristem, though.
At any rate she was there now. Zoiei was gone; she could tell this right away just by looking around. Everywhere was the water, the thought water; you swam in it, and your core floated in ideas and associations. And around her were other Zoieians, experiencing the same thing. Floating and swimming, their tendrils (now dream-tendrils) waving in the ebb and flow.
And somewhere below her were the depths, where she had never been before, because in the depths, she had heard, you could forget that you were in the depths, and that maybe at some point you should leave.
And Sparky had told her, analytically, that they were lit, and had provided no other information. He had left her the choice. She still felt that choice, even as the concrete memory of Sparky began to fade away. Sparky, a friend, a feeling now.
She could go to the depths, if she wanted.
And why shouldn’t she? When she looked around she saw that she was still shallow after all. Treading water with all the other kids who were playing it safe. They were wisping around her; their loops were clumsy, asymmetrical; she saw them mess up at the apex of their crescents, flopping awkwardly and sometimes freezing in place.
And what they were sharing with each other didn’t seem that cool to her, she realized. It was surface level stuff about their lives. Does he like me? Will he like me if I do this? How should I act to maximize my likeability aura, in the context of being around him, specifically?
Everyone here, she thought, is cool with their blood. But when I wake up I will go back to mine.
So, as the other kids watched, she dove. As she dove there was a hushed silence, right away, and as she left them further and further behind she couldn’t shake the idea that she was leaving them forever.
iii. The Descent
When you descended, you descended into murk.
The murk settled on you, slowed you down. The change was gradual but she could perceive it, once she had descended a couple of fathoms. The sheer terror of free fall into the abyss of the depths disappeared. In its place was an unsettling feeling, as she pondered whether or not this was a good idea. But even as she sank more and more slowly, the pressure above her increased, and soon she was not sure she could swim back even if she wanted to.
She could see dimly lit figures floating around her. They were engaged in somber conversation. From what she could make out, it sounded… abstract? She could make out some words and phrases. Pseudo-primordialism. Spacetime wellspring. Angelic totality.
Are they talking about the Sea, she wondered. Or life before the Sea? Whatever that was like. Vague now, like the light that was barely reaching her through the murk.
And soon, she thought, there will be no light whatsoever. Except whatever I bring with me.
iv. The Depths
She forgot waking life entirely.
Her dream-limbs were flailing in panic and she fought to get them under control. Desperately she sent out phero-transmissions, waves of greeting to someone, anyone.
She felt annoyance.
Not her annoyance; this came from somewhere else. Seemingly all around her, actually. Though it was harshly edged, it was meaning, and she strained to decipher it. Finally she was left with a single concept, and though she didn’t know what it was at first, she felt something in her stir uncomfortably when she finally unravelled it.
What are the bends?
She put an interrogative musk on the phero-transmission and sent it back out.
More annoyance. But she got an answer; maybe the tristem of her subconscious had put something worthwhile in the fragrance. The bends, she learned, were a sharp descent from the surface level to the depths. You carry toxic associations and ideas with you. They spill out and pollute the depths.
Toxic, she thought.
I don’t fit up there, she pheromoted, and the response to this was more than just a pulse, more than even a wave. It was tempest of thought and feeling, blowing her away like a paper doll. She reached out with a dream-limb, and as she grasped desperately, the vortex of black water clawing at her, the dream-limb began to morph. She couldn’t see it clearly through the murk, but it wasn’t a tendril anymore. It was now a pale pink colour, and moving it she could tell it was rigid. And on the end were what looked like stalks, tiny ones, and she found, as her tristem began to bubble and burst, losing tiny pieces of herself, that she could move them too.
She was somewhere else.
Her body was bent at what felt like a 90 degree angle. Conforming to a smooth hard surface that pressed against her back. In front of her was another flat surface, and she found that it was elevated to a height at which she could comfortably rest her new appendages. In fact, she seemed to already be doing so.
“Dear, it’s rude to put your elbows on the table.”
She looked up.
Around the surface in front of her were bent three other pale pink life forms. They all seemed to be taller to her, though one was was smaller than the others. This one had a jeer on its face, as if anticipating whatever interaction was about to happen next. But there was no humour in the face of the one who had just spoke. Her head was decorated with strange curls that seemed just as rigid as EVcrao’s new limbs.
What is the right response here, she thought.
She told her tristem to communicate some sort of apologetic association using her new communication apparatus. “Sorry,” was what came out. But this seemed strange to her. Surely she hadn’t actually hurt anyone? Even if she had it wouldn’t be her fault She had only just gotten here.
The life form was still glaring at her. With a start she realized that some further action was needed. She settled on moving her limbs; they awkwardly dropped to her side.
“That’s better,” the life form said. “Now eat your greens.”
There was one life form she hadn’t paid any attention to. She did so now. It was as imposing as its counterpart in height, but so far it hadn’t said anything. Indeed, she wondered if it could, because the lower part of its face was obscured by a thick mass of bristle. But its eyes communicated volumes. They communicated disappointment. More than that. They communicated regret.
She felt the weight of those eyes on her. She bent her own head down, in the direction of the green things.
She began to eat them.
They tasted ugly. Not like the carefully managed inoffensive blandness of the nutri-moss. This was corrosive. She felt her taste organ twisting away from it instinctively, trying to keep contact to minimal levels. This is a test, she thought. You’re supposed to get this down before it kills you. She opened her eyes and saw that all three life forms were staring at her. She began to crush the food. She hated it. She was grinding it to dust. Over and over, until the inside of her mouth was splattered in its juices and she had forced down every last lump.
She raised her head triumphantly.
“What kind of daughter have I raised?” the curled life form screeched. “Eating with her hands? Like an animal? Your grandfather is watching you from heaven right now. He’s ashamed at what you’ve become.”
The form with half a face finally spoke. “I’m disappointed,” he said. “So, so disappointed.”
Something was nuzzling her lower body. She looked down. It was a small furred animal with flickering eyes.
She woke up on the cold ground of Zoiei. Sparky’s eyes were retracting into his head; as she watched they snapped into place with a thunk.
“Sparky,” she said dazedly. “Where am I? Am I really on Zoiei? Am I in the Sea? The depths? Am I somewhere else, somewhere far away, so far away that I’ll never find my way back home?”
“I don’t know,” Sparky said. “That’s beyond my abilities to determine. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” EV said.
“I gave you your injection,” Sparky said, “while you were asleep.”
“An injection?” she asked. “Why?”
Sparky was silent. For a while she tried to figure out if this was important. After a while, she stopped. Instead, she cozied up to him, wrapping her tendrils around him, enfolding him totally. If she focused, she imagined she could actually feel the pulsing of his core, deep inside his chrome. Together they watched Zoiei’s shifting starscape. A blanket woven from billions of moving lights.
They were always moving. They never slept.
|# ¿ Jan 14, 2016 01:45|
Halfway For Too Long
flerp fucked around with this message at 23:31 on Jan 19, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 18, 2016 03:05|
For the record, I got lazy, and was originally going to do a serious story, but had to come up with 95% of this in an hour, so I was literally rushing to get this in before Midnight. I know it sucks, but that's what I get for procrastinating. Who knows. Maybe somebody will still like it.
posting after your story explaining it is almost as bad as prefacing your story
nobody loving cares btw
|# ¿ Jan 18, 2016 05:09|
Broenheim, I'm calling you out.
|# ¿ Jan 18, 2016 21:51|
In, flash rule me Bro.
Of course, please enjoy the high quality sport of punching and kicking and biting in water (also there's a ball sometimes) that is Water Polo
|# ¿ Jan 18, 2016 23:34|
Idk if you're ask for a sports or not, so I'm gonna give you one anyways.
Your sports is esports. Please know that LoL and Dota aren't the only esports, there's also Starcraft and fighting games. In honor of Genesis 3 (and one of my favorite esports to watch), if the game you use is Super Smash Bros. then you get 200 extra words.
Also, caveat, please avoid stereotyping esports players as fat, awkward nerds.
|# ¿ Jan 18, 2016 23:37|
.... You've got to be loving kidding me. This is a joke. It has got to be. There is simply no way that anybody could have read my story and not come to the conclusion that I am anything other than a literary genius. You know what? I get it. I see what you guys are trying to pull, and its funny. Clearly you're waiting for me to pop into the IRC channel and then you'll post the real results and crown me the Ike Turner of Thunderdome. That's good. I mean you almost had me.
Hi there, for this exceedingly bad post, you're getting flash ruled that your sport will be a dog show and all the dogs will be very good and i will want to pet them.
|# ¿ Jan 19, 2016 03:34|
I will sport. I will sport like nobody has sported in the history of sport. I will sport the goal ball all the way to the win zone, and I will help my sport team take the good sport guy winner thing back to my sport town, where I will be lauded as a person who is cool because he is good at sports.
your sport will be competitive knitting and you also get a flash rule that nobody in story is above 40 years old.
|# ¿ Jan 19, 2016 16:33|
I have a sport, but I would like a flash rule, please, okay thank you.
flash rule: you only pick on him because you like him
|# ¿ Jan 20, 2016 01:30|
<Twist> flerp is into competitive vacuuming becuz he suck
pfft, your feeble owns roll off me like water off an Ock's back
well then if you're so good and cool i'm sure you can handle a flash rule where one of your characters is a duck and this matters
|# ¿ Jan 20, 2016 02:23|
hey blackmarketlimb crabrock was nice enough to let you join your team even though you're a newbie and bad and imo i wouldnt have picked u up because you'd probably lose if someone failed. anyways, i want you to write a really nice thank you to crabrock, thanking him for the chance for you to gently caress himself over. oh yeah, and the thank you will be in the form of 200 word story and be about a crabrock whatever the gently caress that is. i'll give you up to a 100 words depending on how good it is.
people were saying mean things but basically WRITE A 200 WORD STORY ABOUT CRABROCK, geez guy you only read the bolded bits anyways.
flerp fucked around with this message at 04:39 on Jan 22, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 22, 2016 04:33|
Crabrock was going to beat the poo poo out of a Howitzer.
very good, 100 words, -1 words for the parentheses, so 99 words
|# ¿ Jan 22, 2016 06:46|
Word Bounty for Everyone Involved
my other ref is too nice. all this stuff about fans and friendship and bullshit. gently caress that poo poo, this is sports, were loving fighting each other 'cause there's only one person on the time that matters and that's you. everyone is loving morons who cant hit a ball. so then, i want you to write about why you think youre the best, why youre going to win this entire thing, and why everyone else youre playing against is poo poo and why the rest of your team should thank you for providing even a little bit of quality (up to 300 words). when you submit you must also do something else. you may either claim the words, or you may say that you want to delete some of your opponent's words. if you want the words put i want the words at the top and if you want to take the words put take my opponent's words at the top. then when im finished judging these ill tell you how many words you get (up to 100) or how many words youre opponents have lost (up to -100 words). this is going until midnight PST today, so get them in quick.
flerp fucked around with this message at 23:40 on Jan 23, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 23, 2016 23:38|
i want the words
one note joke that's also really dumb imo, +20 words.
i want the words
drat good poo poo talking, hitting everyone hard, no punches pulled, this is what sports is, +100 words.
Do yourself a favor and take his words away
good owns, i liked it. -95 words to sebmojo
take my opponent's words
man that's some good poo poo too, that dog on a bicycle sentence is top notch, -100 words to Ent.
lol w/e crabrock sux
lol. +1 word for sebmojo -1 word to crabrock.
e: +80 words for you mojo, but -50 words for not posting it initially, so +31 overall
I want the words
decent, i like it when people do poetry but it wasn't great imo. +50 words
take my opponent's words
not bad, hard to own a newbie sometimes, -69 to titus.
flerp fucked around with this message at 04:20 on Jan 24, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 24, 2016 04:17|
I want the words
true that, +90 words.
I want the words
there's no love in sports, the only thing in sports is you winning, wtf are you doing, -50 words to you, wouldve been higher but you actually did some poo poo talking unlike someone.
Take my opponent's words...
and you. god damnit sh stop with this baby poo poo, -100 words to you unless you write some hard hitting poo poo instead of being all "love everyone" and stupid crap like that you baby queen.
|# ¿ Jan 24, 2016 06:19|
Ok, just to help out for all you morons, here's the wordcounts for dumb people who cant math
blackmarketlimb - 1299
sadistech - 1220
Entenzahn - 1200
crabrock - 999
sebmojo - 1136 words with 134 given to thranguy
thranguy - 1384 words with help from mojo
titus82 - 1081 words
curlingiron - 1290 words
sitting here - 1200 words (fan words + minus baby points)
pham nuwen - 1300
ironic twist - 1300
kurona_bright - 1300
word bounty closed now get to loving writing, hope you kept track of your flash rules too
|# ¿ Jan 24, 2016 08:29|
submissions closed i guess
|# ¿ Jan 25, 2016 06:34|
hi this is principal broenheim here i hope all you little shits stop being bad thanks
flerp fucked around with this message at 17:40 on Jan 26, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 26, 2016 16:48|
All Eyes Looking Away
The whole court’s eyes were all looking at Dave Hanson, the top prosecutor in the state. He was wearing this bright purple shirt, wrapped around his body like a cocoon. Sweat dripped down my brow and for the first time, I was happy no one was looking at me.
“Surely,” he said, standing up in his bench like a beacon.“You’re not insinuating that this good officer is a liar?” His voice floating in the room, filling it up completely.
“Of course not,” I said, trying to get my voice echo like his did. It didn’t, and the judge, the jury, even the witness, all of them didn’t even me standing there in the center.
He smirked and then leaned over the desk. The whites of his eyes glistened and I just couldn’t look away. I opened my mouth, and he tilted his head like he was ready for me to speak, but I kept staring. Then, he smiled, and I heard the whole jury shift in their seats and waited for him to say something.
I took the chance to turn around and rub the sweat from my forehead. It was over, nobody would ever hear me when he started talking, and he was rearing up for a speech. Even if I objected, it didn’t matter, the words still dripped into the jury’s mind and I couldn’t get rid of those.
“You see, my colleague is trying to besmirch this good man’s name,” he started. “And, I don’t know about you folks, but I wouldn’t…”
“Stop,” I said, not even sure if my voice was loud enough, but he did. I turned around. He cocked his head like a terrier, waiting for me to say something. “That’s what I’m saying.”
The courtroom went silent and he blinked his eyes a couple times. His cheeks moved up, like he was digging his tongue around his mouth to find the words. Then, he sat down.
“Can I continue?” I asked him. I was in the middle, staring at him, with everyone else staring at me. The sweat pooled in my eyebrows.
“Please,” he said, lips straight. Then, he grinned and leaned back in his chair.
I didn’t win. When the judge read the results, I looked away. I knew they were all looking at him, in that purple suit, like he was some kind of marvel.
I left. Nobody was looking at me. They never did. Even in the center, when everything should be on me, they looked at that purple suit and nodded their heads.
“Hey,” a voice called out when I was walking through the parking lot. Dave’s. I turned back, saw him, then kept walking away.
“I saw you crying,” he said.
I rubbed my eyes, wet, cold. Nobody said anything. Nobody ever noticed.
“I’m not,” I said.
“It’s nothing personal,” he said, and even though his voice echoed louder in the lot, it was softer.
I stopped, and looked down at the key jutting in between my fingers. He put his hand on my shoulder and I could feel him grinning. Grinning like he was playing the juror, grinning because he knew he’d win.
Then I turned.
He was grinning, but it wasn’t wide or open or sparkling. His eyes were darker and there were bags under them. He nodded, and I wiped the tears out of my eyes once again.
“You did pretty good,” he said.
I wasn’t crying because I lost. I knew I was going to lose. Babies cry because they need something. When I stand up and look out at the whole court, that’s all I need. All those eyes should be on me, every one of my words bouncing off the walls, filling the room with me. I don’t need to cry up front.
Nobody says anything to the loser. You just walk away, trying to keep your head up like it doesn’t matter. There’s no one looking at you ‘cause they’re all looking at someone else. Maybe if you cry, they’ll look. They’ll say it’s alright.
It is, because they see you. Even if you're lying, even if you cry and you don’t mean it, they see you. Even Dave, the one who won, he’ll see you. Even if he thinks you're crying because you lost. Even if he doesn't know you're nothing when no one's looking at you.
|# ¿ Jan 26, 2016 23:58|
computer about to die but whatever here is crits
this wasn’t a bad story. the tone stayed consistent (besides a random poo poo or gently caress put in because you can’t help yourself), and it was cute, but you were against mojo who wrote an adult story. You wrote a good children’s story, but the thing is is that it’s a children story. Mojo wrote an adult story that was also good. cute can only go so far, especially when that’s mostly all you got.
why you lost: you were a ten year old trying to race a twenty year old.
this had some good pacing, good character who wasn’t likable, and a story that worked for me. the ending’s vagueness left me wondering like “wtf did she say?” i’m not sure what happened there and it’s just so weird. that last paragraph is baller imo, and this was just a strong story that didn’t pull any punches and went hard and strong. it just lacks that something strong that makes me think it’s saying more than what it is. some kind of underlying theme that brings it all together for me.
why you won: because you wrote a gritty strong story with a good character.
this was discussed in live crits, and honestly, I don’t have much else to say here. the tonal shift was too jarring and I needed some more connection between those two idea. just, that tonal whiplash is just so jarring that ugh. there’s something cool in here, of his perception of himself and how his family views him and how everyone else views him, but it’s muddied and doesn’t work and feel fully fleshed out.
why you lost: you slammed your monster truck story into a family drama story and killed your story.
once again, live crits and I don’t have much else to say. That first scene is so focused on the narrator that it doesn’t work with the whole coach stuff. You hit on an emotional level and YOU HAD AN ENDING . just, please dont think you didnt get an HM or win that you should stop writing endings, just, you know, dont have a beginning that wastes my time.
why you won: you had an ending
I will say, I was a bit afraid to truly express what I thought about this in live crits. It’s difficult, especially when youre tired and it’s hard to just articulate simple basic ideas why I didn’t like this story that much. Like I said, the noir voice shifts between what feels like a parody and feels like an actual noir voice. It doesn’t work if you go inbetween. It just, doesn’t. Noir in wizard duels is fun and funny, but that’s about it. That’s the major issue. Your character is blank and uninteresting and after a while, wizard noir just gets kind of plain and boring. There needed to be something more to it then just wizard noir.
why you lost: you got too enamored with your idea that you forgot that it doesn’t prop up your entire story.
This was a drat good story. Yes, it had dogs, but it had a good dog. But it also was well paced, had emotions to it, had characters, and worked well. It was sweet and an easy read. I’m sure you got some help with it, but whatever they did, keep that advice in the back of your mind because it made your story better than most everyone elses. I wanted to HM this a bit, but you were on the losing team. Sorry about that.
why you won: because you wrote about a good dog and a good person and a good story.
this story, tonally, is all over the place. The narrator is like a kind of dark little girl, but there’s one line that stands out to me. “Trapped inside, their tails got matted with compost and blood and poo poo and fused together like the hub of a wheel.” that line threw me off completely tonally. your character’s attitudes and interests are articulated well, but the tone wavers so much that it becomes difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is you’re trying to do. like, it’s a little kid with a darker mind set, which can work because some kids are dark, but it’s almost too dark, like it doesn’t quite work.
why you won: you wrote a character who was more interesting.
Man, don’t go wrong, I love me some esports and I wanted this to be good, but it was just so boring. nothing was happening and i didnt care and your character was so boring. like, there was no interest for me in this aging guy who’s a failure. it’s just, ugh. and tetris man? really? competitive tetris? there’s like so many better ones, like fighting games, or smash brothers, or starcraft, or hearthstone, or like, something that has like action in it or idk, wasnt tetris???
why you lost: you bored me.
idk, this one is ok, it’s just, not much else to it. the motivation is a bet to prove herself, which is kind of lame, and i dont quite feel like i get the relationship that the protag and the other girl have. this was just very plain that it had too much of SPORTS and not enough of actual things i care about like characters and people doing things, imo.
why you won: your ending felt more deserved
that ending was stupid man. you put raoul in for like a line, and then all of a sudden, here’s there at the end at that’s her reward!!!!! god damnit wtf. thats like 1) the most cliche kind of ending and 2) completely and utterly out of nowhere that the reader does not care. most of the story seemed about how important the sport was to the girl, which I was kind of feeling, but there was just so much nothing in this story. there was no overarching theme that connected everything, it was just things happening without any in particular linking them together that made me think “yes, I know what this story is trying to say.” i dont know what this story is trying to say, it’s just all over the place.
why you lost: you weren’t sure what to do.
spectres of autism
man, I love you. I love how big you think, I love how you don’t let those things keep you down, and I hate having to say this because I don’t want to, but you gotta try to go smaller. That’s not because it’s a bad thing to go big (because it most certainly is a good thing), but it’s because I feel that you, as a writer, have an issue with clarity. like I said in the live crits, you have an issue of translating your ideas from your mind to the page. that’s why I think you should trying to pare down your ideas, focus on human aspects of life, because those kind of things ground us into stories. like in this story, there’s so many nebulous words and ideas that I’m just lost. There’s some kind of human emotions but they need to be made more clear. It’s good that you have these big ideas, because one thing people can’t teach is creativity. But we can teach you how to be clear, but you also need to learn how to write clearly. That requires practice, and I think it’s important to start small, to try to see how humans feel and interact, and when you get that down, you have real people and characters in your big ideas which will make readers say “wow” instead of “huh?”
why you lost: lack of clarity
when I talk about an earned ending, this is the story that comes to mind. even though it’s clear what’s going to happen, both based on what’s happened in the story and the rest of the stories, it doesn’t matter because that’s not the point. you may have a bit too many characters, but I still liked this story because it was fun, people wanted things, and the characters interacted with each other very nicely. this was a well written fun story about a weird sport that was more than just the sport, but also about how characters care about sports and what the sports mean.
why you won: characters who did things and an ending that made me think “yep, that’s exactly what it should’ve been”
We talked about this in livecrits, and I think the major point I have is that the ending doesn’t make sense. I don’t get why the son all of a sudden wants to do something for his dad. There’s no reconnection that occurs in the story that it feels fake and forced that the character just thinks “now I’ll do what my dad says even though he’s wrong.”
why you lost: a fake feeling ending and poor pacing.
I’ll be the first to say idgi. I went into judge chat and they were like “this guy is getting a mention because it was the second best” and im like uhhhhh ok? like, i guess you described the jazz conflict kind of well. it didnt make sense to me, like were they cooperating or attacking each other, or why were they helping each other? that doesnt make any sense from a jazz duel kind of thing, or maybe I don’t know those things well but that it’s weird. Also, the whole Syrena Typhon or whatever is like an anime name for a jazz techinique which is just kind of lol. I just didn’t really feel the character in this story I guess. oh yeah and there was that section about what was happening in little rock but idk, that didnt really make sense to me. like, I legit forgot about that. i just, idk, this didn’t leave anything for me.
why you won: it was alright and had some interesting stuff and decent writing
we did this in live crits and this was the martian triathlon and idk, that’s about all I have to say. there’s just not that much there in general, so there’s not much to talk about imo.
why you lost: you didnt really have any substance
this was a match up I left blank because I really don’t know. I thought this story was overall better than thranguy’s but the ending was so dark and nonsensical and it just didn’t work. that section where theyre talking is pretty good but the big issue is simply that ending, it’s just out of nowhere, unnecessarily violent that it almost made me think of Benny when you wrote that. I guess, at the end of the day, you had a character and things were happening kind of and it wasnt just a dumb sport thing.
why you won: there was a character despite the bad ending.
I know my judges, Djinn’s too nice and she’ll probably say “oh I can’t think of anything bad to say” and wher is a baby judge, so I’m going to go ahead and tell you that you hosed up. You did. You made a lot of stupid mistakes because idk. maybe it’s because your an idiot? that’s probably it.
ok, you remember when I was talking about spectre’s story on live crits, and how I said having a final scene with a character that we have never seen or known about is all of a sudden is your focus and how i said that would never work? Hey guess what, it didn’t work for you either. What a loving surprise, it’s almost like it’s a thing you shouldn’t do in your story because it’s stupid. now, this was better then spectres because you actually set up a relationship that the earlier story had with rather than another random character, but it was still stupid because I don’t know who that character. He was also a dick for some reason, and im like wtf why are you now writing a lovely character who i dont know. jesus, that was an idiotic idea. gently caress you even have him in the first paragraph he’s introduced twirling his hair and you dont even say it’s red? christ, that’s like aggressively dumb.
you know what else is stupid, hiding the motivation of your character! also, hiding it so you can have a twist ending (gotta keep that namesake I guess). look, I sympathized with your character because he was the underdog trying to win a competition. but now twist, let’s compare things. “guy wants to win a competition to prove himself” vs. “guy wants to win a competition because it means he’ll be able to send a letter to his brother he hasn’t seen since a war has torn them apart.” now tell me, which one makes you care more? the first one’s alright, but the second one is way better, way more sympathetic, and way more interesting. but for some reason (probably because you’re an idiot) you though “nah, i’ll hide that satisfying information to my reader that makes my main character more sympathetic and makes it understood why it’s so important that my character achieves what he wants.”
You also have clarity issues and things that don’t make sense. The red hair doesnt make sense until the end of the story because… there needed to be a twist? apparently you can put words in seashells for some reason? they were mermaids because… you were fighting against mermaids? those are all stupid reasons. also, for some reason, the war causes these two sides to be so far apart, but apparently like no birds besides like a few can make it to the other side, so like, how did they ever send them in the first place.
You wrote good twist, but you were also an idiot and that bogs down the story. you make a lot of stupid mistakes either out of stubbornness, stupidity, or to prove that you could. it turns out, mistakes hurt your story. so maybe dont do that, thanks.
why you won: you wrote the best story even though you really didnt want to apparently.
you know what sh, im gonna say it - I liked this and this couldve beaten twist’s on a different day. this was fun, and good, and clear, with characters and motivations, and the interactions between the characters had that nuance that I want with my characters. Just because theyre teammates and friends doesnt mean they dont antagonize each other and I liked those interactions. there’s really not that much wrong with this story, I just think that twist’s just stood out from the rest of the stories, but you should still be happy with this because this is still strong.
why you lost: i was trying to keep this focused on what you personally did wrong, but in this match up, it was mostly just that twist scratched our more literary itch this week.
we talked about this in live crit and imo, that’s most of what needs to be said. i didnt really particular enjoy this because it’s a very strange story. it just lacks the cohesion to link between all the other aspects.
why you lost: too much going on that felt disconnected.
Man, moony, I love this story so much idk why. I liked the characters, all the things made mostly sense (except the ending where the partner betrays him I think?????? idk that was kind of weird), I liked how the burn victim became a masked wrestler, because of course he would. I forgot about the heroic theme, but it’s there and while it could be played up a little bit, it’s something welcome in this story. your character is sympathetic. and man, moon, i loving love, i just love, how even in the olympics, professional wrestling is still all staged. god, that poo poo is gold. its like duh, but it owns at the same time. this was just a fun cool silly story that I enjoyed reading, probably wouldve pushed for an HM if you guys had won.
why you won: you rigged it
Another live crit and another one that I don’t want to write another crit for, so just relisten to that. in particular, the whole “i dont rly think this character would learn something from this drunk dude.”
why you won: your opponent forfeited.
man, I really didn’t like this that much. It felt like grimdark hunger games, but also kind of plodding and boring. there’s a lot of world buildy nonsense about this stupid competition and then you introduce a character in the last 25% that is apparently important and so important that the protag has to sacrifice herself to stop him. Idk, nothing really happens in this story and I’m left wanting more.
why you won: there was some kind of interest in it.
I want for you to know that is not the worst story ever, and that is not terrible. It’s not good, let me make sure that’s known, and it was the worst story this week, unfortunately. It was boring, plodding, and had the dumbest twist ending in the world. Like, seriously, lizard people? Why? Why was that necessary. Most of the story had nothing else going for it besides being competently written, but that ending just sealed the deal for me.
why you lost: the reptile brainwashed me into doing it.
this was perhaps the toughest match up for me. both of these were good for different reasons and the thing that led me towards yours was that I cared more for your character. she wanted something human even though she wasnt necessarily likable, and she felt human. she hurt people, but she didnt feel like she wanted to, just that she was angry or bitter, or frustrated, which is completely understandable. I would’ve liked there have to been a bit more reason to really care about the narrator, but this was still a good story.
why you won: i liked your character more
you wrote a dark horse story. you wrote it well and like I said, it was a tough match up. while yours had technical merit and made me understand (although i did not empathize) your horrible character, it left me with a poor taste in my mouth in a good way. I think the thing that killed me was the ending. It felt like it left the entire point of the story kind of moot. There’s more that would happen later in these people stories that I feel like I need to know more. The ending just kind of makes me think “and then what?”
why you lost: rushed? ending.
flerp fucked around with this message at 02:32 on Jan 27, 2016
|# ¿ Jan 27, 2016 01:47|
oh hey that's cool i guess, good thing u guys are putting a lot work in as judges trying to help everyone out its just uhhhh
THUNDERDOME WEEK CLXXX: Maybe I’m A Maze
but it's alright, youre just following the time honored tradition of being lazy poo poo judges
i guess the judges had new year resolutions to be loving garbage. great work so far guys.
|# ¿ Jan 27, 2016 20:27|
calls sh out for being a little poo poo
posts links to things she's already done and was too lazy to link earlier
tries to sass me like it wasnt because i had to call her out so she would JUST POST loving LINKS
|# ¿ Jan 27, 2016 21:52|
mr. rex, you shouldnt be vandalizing the school but it was p. lol so youre cool by me, just tell ms. here that i gave you detention or something but you dont have to go
|# ¿ Jan 29, 2016 00:32|
Don’t Be Too Smart in Middle School or the Universe Might Collapse in on Itself
flerp fucked around with this message at 05:20 on Feb 2, 2016
|# ¿ Feb 1, 2016 02:23|
big bugs by broenheim
"wow thats a really big bug"
"its an ant"
"yeah but relative to an atom its p. big"
|# ¿ Feb 2, 2016 05:50|
even bigger bugs by broenheim
"wow that bug is big"
"thats another ant"
"well if you were to see a side by side comparison between that ant and a normal ant, this ant would be at least double the normal ant's size"
|# ¿ Feb 2, 2016 05:53|
the biggest bug of all time by broenheim
"i think i know what the biggest bug is"
"then what is it?"
"well since bug is an arbitrary name we apply to things, i apply it to the universe and then thats the biggest bug in existence"
|# ¿ Feb 2, 2016 05:56|
THIS IS A SIGN UP POST AND I WOULD ALSO LIKE A FLASH RULE PLEASE AND THANK YOU.
|# ¿ Feb 2, 2016 17:25|
Can’t Say It
flerp fucked around with this message at 06:31 on Feb 21, 2016
|# ¿ Feb 7, 2016 23:12|
who will judge
Grizzling Here Brawl
Now, the theme I want you to work with is endings. What does it mean for something to end? Do things ever really end? I don't know. Answer those for me. Tell me something cool about endings, something that you think endings mean.
I also want these stories to be big. That means I want somebody who is bigger than life, someone who does big stuff and who does not settle for the little things. I want an epic adventure in an epic world with an epic character. Also, you're word minimum!!!!! is 1750 words. No padding, make every word count. Since that's mostly for you GP, I'll put also another restriction so sh doesn't get off for free. No dreams. If you somehow write a 1750 word vignette I will make you insta-lose btw. This to both of you.
A max of 2500 words, but if I catch a whiff of padding I will not hesitate to stop reading. End it where it needs to end.
Due Saturday, February 27th, Midnight PST.
flerp fucked around with this message at 00:32 on Feb 9, 2016
|# ¿ Feb 9, 2016 00:12|
taking raft of the medusa
|# ¿ Feb 9, 2016 06:53|
judging is a good way to help hone your internal editor, which can pay off for your own writing, so even if you don't feel you're "good enough" you should totally do it.
counterpoint: everyone's stories suck
|# ¿ Feb 11, 2016 22:53|
|# ¿ Dec 7, 2021 16:23|
Rebuttal: So do you.
lol who are you even quoting, never heard of that guy
|# ¿ Feb 12, 2016 01:26|