Our pleasure (well, my pleasure and possibly Kaishai's constant dismay), thanks for submitting!
Lurker here, is there a link to the podcast?
|# ¿ Aug 31, 2017 23:03|
|# ¿ Jul 27, 2021 10:16|
yeah you should probably enter now that you've posted in the thread
Uhhhh.. Im terrible writer so please accept my homoerotic fanfiction.
Ill join up, when is it due?
Edit: Im sorry for editing my post but I have thunderdome 101 questions
1) So the current prompt is get a name and make a character around it?
2) I submit my terrible words in a new post
3) Due by Friday, September 8th?
Exmond fucked around with this message at 04:06 on Sep 1, 2017
|# ¿ Sep 1, 2017 03:35|
Im in with Billy Kid
|# ¿ Sep 1, 2017 15:17|
1231 word count
With a loud ding the bell signaled it was time to move tables I picked up my name-tag and threw it to the oak table beside me, thrusting all the frustration this night had caused into the action, It was becoming apparently I wasn't going to find true love here. The name tag skittered on the table and fell off the table. The woman at the table looked at the name tag and lifted one eyebrow inquisitively at me through her black bangs.
“It's been a bad night. Don't even know why I came to this stupid speed dating night.” I explained.
The woman put her elbow onto the table and rested her face on it. “Usually people are here because they are looking for a fun time or scared of dying alone” The woman mused at me. “Which one are you?”
I dropped myself in my seat and leaned back. Having had enough of this debacle I bleat out my response “I'm only here because my therapist said I needed a distraction from my job. Something about pent up anger over family issues. So sign me up for fun. ” The women shifted and looked uncomfortably at me in her seat. I continued to ruin the conversation by opening up my mouth “Listen, I have about fifty problems on the go right now and chances are I will die alone by the end of the week. If I had time to care I'd apologize for ruining your night. Goodbye.”
I got up from the table and started to leave the river-side pub. I got outside to the empty road and was about to call a taxi when an angry yell demanded my attention. I looked up just in time for something plastic and hard to smash against my forehead and flip off into the distance. I shook my head and look around dazed when suddenly the woman was in front of me.
“Get over yourself!” She angrily yelled, with every word she beat me with her left arm, using it as a baton to add emphasis to her argument. “Poor baby has a hard job and needs to take his frustrations out on others. Maybe stop being so self absorbed and realize that others have it just as hard as you!” It was at this time I realized she was beating me with the stump of her left arm. A loud thump was heard behind me as her prosthetic arm landed behind me. I tried to choke out an apology but it got drowned out by the well-deserved chastisement I was receiving “So you have problems, all of us do! We still manage to live pleasant lives and not be a complete rear end in a top hat every chance we get!”
I looked around and noticed her prosthetic arm lying in the middle of the bridge walkway. Perfect, just perfect, not only did I act like a complete rear end I had to get thwacked by a prosthetic arm to knock me to my senses. I moved to go grab the arm, hoping futility that at least that small action would redeem me.
“I don't need a babysitter, I can get my own god-drat arm” The woman snarled at me, her red dress swishing in the wind haughtily.
I had to do something to make amends and my mouth moved before I could even think. “Listen, I was an rear end in a top hat. Let me at least grab your arm...” My mind clued in and I gave a lame smile to accompany the idiotic thing I said. I jogged towards the arm making a hasty retreat.
“Listen here Mr rear end in a top hat!”
A large rumbling stopped her retort and we both paused. I looked around and saw the river below us , swore and froze. Had I stepped onto a bridge? I turn around and tried to run off the bridge but it was too late. A massive shadow loomed over and me and I gulped and turned around. The creature was made out of rocks and stood a good 5 feet above me. It's massive maw curved upwards to form a cruel smile. Someone nearby may have screamed but I was too taken shaken to notice. The troll leered at me and hefted a semi-truck sized club in its arm.
“And finally the youngest trip traps over my bridge. You are all alone, nobody to save you now!”
Fear crept over me and threatened to take control. Memories of my father, his body broken but spirit still high, flashed in my mind. I remembered my oath and stepped forward towards the troll, reigning in the fear. The troll let out a large boisterous laugh from deep within its grotesque rocky belly.
Large goblets of troll spit splattered around the bridge as the Troll spoke. “All alone and I know all of your tricks!” It's voice sounded rough like rocks breaking bones.
“My brother and father might not be around. But I still brought help” I yelled to the troll and pulled out a large baseball bat from my travel bag. I hoped the troll wouldn't notice that my hand was shaking.
“Time for this gruff to go to work”
And with that I stepped forward and got to my job, dealing with the monsters and other things that go bump in the night.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I sat in the taxi, my face a mix of shock and humiliation as the woman stuck her face out of the window and howled her victory to the world. The taxi driver took it with amazing grace and channeling his inner human apathy ignored us.
A large gob of troll spit dropped from my hair onto the car seat as I recounted the battle. My first “real” fight with a troll had lasted ten seconds. The troll had rushed towards me and with one fist had grabbed me before I could react. I was about to be swallowed when the troll tripped on the woman's prosthetic arm and teetered close to the end of the bridge. Then the women roared and pushed the troll off the bridge.
I turned to her and saw her face reflected in the moonlight. She smiled like a wolf and what constituted for her left arm pumped up and down in celebration. Slow realization crept upon my face. This was what a troll hunter looked like. No bad rear end remarks, no emotional hbaggage weighing you down. I sighed and realized I still had a lot to learn, a lot of growing up to do and a lot to be forgiven for. I put my face in my hands trying futilely to wipe the troll spit off my face.
“I'm sorry for everything. Why don't we start over from the beginning.” I did my best to wipe the troll spit off of my hand and offered her my hand “I'm Billy Kid, youngest and last of the Billygoats Gruff. Pleased to meet you.”
She smiled and took my hand. “Ruelle Loup. I was out looking for fun and I think I've found it.”
|# ¿ Sep 3, 2017 19:58|
Isn't submissions supposed to be over by 3am pst? I converted the time from 12am est to pst and that's what I got.
Hey I just met you.
And this is crazy
But PST is 3 hours behind EST
So post at 9pm PST maybe?
|# ¿ Sep 4, 2017 07:37|
In, and "Always look on the bright side of life."
My prompt is "Every story has two sides"
|# ¿ Sep 5, 2017 10:03|
Monster killers and child stealers
Prompt: Always look at the bright side of life
“We aren’t here to steal your kid.” were the last words I managed to say before the concussive force from the lightning bolt hurled me out the window. I fell 30 feet before abruptly landing into the dumpster.
“Smooth move Tex” Peter’s voice echoed in my mind “Do I need to call the med-mage?”
I groaned and placed a hand on the slimy mattress that I had landed on. Taking a look at my luck charm, now a burnt crisp of pennies and four-leaf clovers, I said “I’m fine but it looks like my “Luck” just ran out.”
I didn’t need a psychic link to know that Peter was rolling his eyes in reaction to the pun. I chuckled and doubled over as my ribs made their displeasure known. Thanks to the charm and my reinforced magick security jacket I had survived. A tall black man peered over the dumpster lid and my partner, Peter, gave me a hand up to get out of the dumpster.
“We going in loud this time?” Peter asked.
“Give me another try. I think he can be reasoned with”
Peter shook his head and peered up at the large hole on the 3rd floor of the apartment building. “You get one more try” He cocked the shotgun letting me know what would happen if I didn’t succeed.
I unlocked the trunk of our car, grabbed my shotgun and some bean bag rounds. As I made my way to the apartment complex door Peter tugged on our psychic link. I turned around with an annoyed look.
“You have a banana peel on your head”
I entered the apartment complex alone as Peter looked for an alternative way in. An old lady noticed me walking up the stairs, took one look at my uniform, and rushed back into her apartment. Child Protection Services didn’t get the warmest reception even before the magick had arrived. Now we have to deal with goblins, harpies and all type of other monsters. Add in some racism, gung-ho legislators and the result is CPS got “upgraded” to be able to deal with monsters. Monster killers and child stealers was our reputation now. It didn’t help that the head of CPS was the bogeyman. Sometimes it’s hard to get up in the morning and try to make a difference. But I had a good reason. A loud booming voice interrupted my train of thought.
“Hurry Margarita, Daddy is going to take you on a trip! We are going to Disneyland just like you always wanted.”
“I’m sleepy Daddy”
I ran down the hallway and saw a child letting out a large yawn, her tiny tusks looking adorable, as her father noticed me. He cursed and yanked her back into the room and then levelled a wand at me.
“YOU AREN’T TAKING HER!” He bellowed and raised the wand. I ducked around the corner as the wall behind me exploded in a shower of fire and plaster. I peeked, saw the coast was clear and rushed into the apartment. Bottles of chemicals sprayed out over the landing area forming a chemist’s wet dream. There were enough drugs scattered in the apartment to start your own criminal empire, hardly the place to raise a kid. I carefully walked further in.
“As I was saying Richard, we aren’t here to steal your kid. We want to give her a better life than this!” I motioned to the kitchen table full of mouldy dishes and condolence letters.
Richard burst through a bedroom door and into the living room. I barely had time to dive under the kitchen table before another lightning bolt sizzled in the air. I flipped the kitchen table over using it as cover and looked behind me. No windows to fall out of this time.
“My wife can take care of her,” Richard said as he slung lightning bolts in my direction, every bolt slung with an angry flick of his wrist.
“We both know that’s not going to happen.” A young orkess with a needle in her arm and lifeless eyes flashed in my mind. A lightning bolt hit the ground next to me and the condolence letters started to burn “How exactly is killing me going to help your daughter!”
I got a lightning bolt hurled at me for my trouble. Things weren’t looking good, I couldn’t get a shot off, not with all the lightning in the air. With my luck bracelet burnt out, I couldn’t count on luck either. The kitchen table rocked and pushed against my back as another lightning bolt smashed against it.
A child’s cry rang out from the bedroom as Peter tugged on our psychic link. Richard turned to the bedroom door and I rushed forward. I tripped over the freaking kitchen table and Richard whirled to face me. I fired a shot and the bean bag arced over the lightning bolt. The round slammed Richard in the arm as the bolt scorched my leg. Ignoring the pain I slammed the butt end of my shotgun into Richard’s stomach. As he went down I cuffed him.
“God drat IT,” Richard said as he struggled to get up. I put a boot on his back and sent a confirmation to Peter over our psychic link. Peter was with Margarita consoling her and making sure she was all right. Peter may be a bit of a sarcastic rear end in a top hat but he was better than me with kids, hell almost everybody was better than me with kids.
Richard looked up at me, tears starting to form up in his eyes, as he realized it was the end. “I hosed up. Just let me go. Take the drugs take the money just let me take my baby girl and get out of here.”
“Not gonna happen,” I said as I stared out at the drugs, misery and death that he peddled. “You're going to go away from a long time.” The words sounded hollow as I saw a younger me pleading very much the same thing to an officer.
Peter stepped out from the bedroom and looked slowly at me and Richard. He raised one eyebrow and motioned to his shotgun.
“Two things can happen Richard. We can haul you away and you go in for due processing.” I glared up at Peter “Or you can piece yourself together and you can say goodbye to your daughter. Then we haul you away for due processing.”
Peter let out a sigh as Richard looked up at me like a man sentenced to death. I cut him off before he could say anything.
"We live in a lovely world. Just focus on the one thing that matters in your life. Then do whats best for them." I looked at the bedroom with reverence. “Take the second option, otherwise you will live the rest of your life regretting it”
A little while later the bedroom door opened and Peter escorted Margarita to Richard’s side. Richard held onto her like she was the only thing that mattered. I looked back and saw a man who hadn’t repeated the mistakes I had before. I had made a difference.
|# ¿ Sep 10, 2017 22:07|
Aiming to improve punctuation in general
Aiming to improve dialogue tags
|# ¿ Sep 12, 2017 00:28|
He picked it in this post
|# ¿ Sep 13, 2017 04:47|
Weekly prompt submission
Why did the bee hum?
Officer Jeremy surveyed the scene with his usual apathy. A new day meant a new horrific sight to see and this was no different just a part of the job. Jeremy sighed and looked at the mess that was his crime scene.
It was an impressive display of human cruelty. A man laid slump against a well with a bloody ice pick in his hand. Blood still dripped from what was left of his ear, hitting the ground with an almost hypnotic rhythm. Pitter patter, pitter patter. Shadows danced over the corpse as a lone lantern swung with the wind.
Shrill brass horns cut through the forest silence. Jeremy jumped and cursed, almost flinging his phone into the well. The call display showed a blonde woman while the ominous notes of the Imperial March played. Jeremy swore once more for emphasis and picked up the phone.
“Maggie, baby... Now is a bad ti-”
The woman's exasperated voice cut him off “You picked up the wrong Kelly-O's! They have gluten in them and Tommy is crying and..”
Jeremy's brow creased as he tried to remember picking up groceries. He didn't know there was a different kind of Kelly-Os. “Listen I'll stop by the grocery store after work and grab the right kind.”
“Honey I'm sorry it has just been a long day,” The woman's voice said as Jeremy looked at the dead corpse rolling his eyes. “You have to get it at Supa Square.”
Jeremy cursed. He never did like the fancy food store with the cashiers that looked down at him. They silently mocked him for not knowing the difference between Atkins diet and celiac diet. He was so drat tired. drat tired of gluten this, hi-fiber that. He silently wished his son could just be normal.
A small pop sound was heard and Jeremy watched with wide eyes as a honey bee hopped out of the man's ear, its normal yellow behind smeared with gore. It washed itself off with its arms and buzzed straight at the police officer. Jeremy managed to get a shot off before the bee buzzed into his ear.
A voice rang in his mind. “Be calm, sweet thing and listen to our buzzing. We elucidate, we educate, we ascend you! Listen to our honeyed words, our wisdom is so sweet.”
Jeremy frantically poked at his ear but the bee just burrowed in further into his ear canal. The bee buzzed and hummed a sweet tune that reverberated around Jeremy.
“Calm, sweet thing, calm. This bee isn't one to buzz around, we are oh so serious. You are full of stars! You need convincing that we are benign, that our intentions pure. We have so many stories, so many wisdoms.”
Jeremy fell to his knees, his body warm. The night sky whirled around him each star burning an image into his retina. His fingers tingled as the buzzing continued to grow louder. Jeremy lost consciousness to the buzzing as sounds of concerned yelling came from his phone.
Jeremy awoke in a completely dark room. A yellow honey bee sat on a stool, the only thing that was illuminated by a spotlight.
“Yes, you need convincing. Convincing that you are a star. This one has many tales. Shall we talk about the writer typing their dreams into ones and zeros, their meaning lost in the BuzzFeed? Or about the judge who sees words and wants to die? She cries herself to sleep in ink-stained sheets. She is immortal she cannot die.“ The bee jumped up and around, amping itself up for its performance.
“We are flying into your mind, our membranous wings cutting through flesh. We have tasted your temporal lobe and found a story to match you, Officer Jeremy. Our top stories for tonight is Little Richard. Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see. TRANSMIT – We speak in metaphors so your alien mind can understand us – RECEIVE – Crucified for his sins – WITNESS – Little Richard.“
From out of nowhere a curtain stage dropped. A few seconds later it opened, showing a scene of a loving mother and father in a hospital.
“All babies cry when they see the light, but not this one. We whispered sweet wisdom into his ear and told him 'You're gonna be a star Kid'. He doesn't need those limbs, they will get in the way of his shining! The baby sees the light and mistakes it for the sun. He reaches for it, but cannot get to it, for he lacks the appendage. The baby cries as the mother soothes her baby. The father looks away in shame”
The bee buzzed and the scene changed. The scene shifts and the baby turns into a kid sitting on a swing.
“Fast forward to education! Richard the strong, Richard the brave. All worthy names we bestow upon him. In high school he weeps, he can't even control where he goes. Bullies throw bee hives at him and as the nurse treats him we whisper 'You're gonna go far kid'. He wipes his eyes and we buzz sweet songs at him.”
The bee buzzed towards Jeremy, shoving itself right in the middle of his face. The bee continued to speak, its voice impossibly loud for the small frame it has.
“You have seen Richard before all weak and useless. Do not deny it for we are nestled in your brain.”
The figure of Richard turns to face Officer Jeremy. His own son Tommy, stared back at him.
Jeremy takes a step back in shock. “That thing isn't my son!”
“You see Little Richard as a freak. Abnormal just like your son. We shall prove you that they can ascend.”
The bee buzzed around and the scene changes once more. This time to high school where Richard is receiving a diploma.
“Richard wheels his way to a test, humming and singing to himself all the way. Lonely Richard they call him. We buzz to and whisper to him 'Stick with me, kid, we'll go places!' Our kid passes high school with flying colours. It's only the beginning of his ascension.“
The bee buzzes up high and multiplies. Suddenly hundreds of worker bees rush to a stage made from pure honey, where Little Richard sits on a stool, a microphone hovering in place above him.
“Little Richard on a whim sings our song. What is pure of soul attracts those with none. People listen to his song and they pay him money. People feel touched by his words and they give him power and control. Little Richard starts to like the taste of power over the taste of our wisdom.”
The worker bees bow their heads down to the ground and start a slow mournful buzz.
“To College now, to women, to procreate! Richard the Siren they call him. There are no women who can resist his voice. Little Richard sings and everyone bows to his whims. He still wishes he could walk, then he meets her. She calls herself Karin, though she has 17 other names.”
The worker bees shift on their feet. One of them angrily stabs their stinger into the ground and lets out its last breath.
“We buzz angrily but Little Richard fails to hear our song. She promises him mobility, she promises him legs. He accepts her offer and seals it with carnal acts. Gaia weeps as the star comes crashing down.“
A large blue bus rumbles up onto the stage. The bus is monstrous in design and decoration. The words 'Jesus Uses Me' is emblazoned on its blue exterior.
The next time we meet Little Richard he is traveling in a steel monstrosity emblazoned with faith. He sings our song, our sweet beautiful song. He corrupts it with faith, with human words, with politics sweet thing! He ruined it our beautiful song. But we cannot hate Little Richard. We grieve, he is our star and it's screaming down to earth.”
“Richard the afraid. Richard is alone now. No one listens to his song anymore. Karin left without a care, her merciless gaze fixed upon another to defile. We buzz around him, pleading for him to remember us. He is still our star! Mr Demille, I'm ready for my close-up!”
The curtains close and re-open. A TV news prompter is reading a story, their eyes as black as night. The story of the day is the death of Richard Miller.
“They came for him in the black of night. They are after our star and they rip it out of him. Stab, stab, stab they go in rhythm... Little Richard hums our song, the last thing he ever does.“
The scene shifts to a small house in the suburbs. In it, Officer Jeremy is playing with his son and wife.
“This is the story of Little Richard, our wisdom flows and tastes so sweet. Our journey is complete. We stand atop a throne of a broken mind. We speak in metaphors so your alien minds can understand us. We give you an offer you can't refuse!”
Jeremy looked at the image of the happy family sitting in the household. A perfect family something he always wanted. And it could be his, he just needed to focus his energy on that. But he was so tired. If he slept he would have more energy and when he awoke. He would have the perfect family.
The bee nestled on top of Officer Jeremy's police hat and said “It's too late for you and Maggie, oh so sorry. But Tommy, little Tommy, he is full of stars. With the right guidance, with the right protection, he could be the biggest star. What wouldn't you do for family?”
Jeremy slowly nodded and closed his eyes and gave into the darkness...
Jeremy woke up and picked himself up off the ground. He had to get home, had to protect his family. He staggered to his car and sat in the driver's seat. Was he forgetting something?
Ah yes, groceries! Young Tommy needed to get that special brand of cereal. Kelly-O's. The store would be closed Jeremy realized and frowned.
A small buzzing assured him it would be alright. What was a little broken glass between family? Just walk in, grab the Kelly-Os, and leave cash on the till. Jeremy started up the car and backed up, driving over someone's discarded cell phone.
Jeremy sighed and realized that the bee was right. You'd do anything for family.
Aiming to improve punctuation in general
Aiming to improve dialogue tags
|# ¿ Sep 17, 2017 15:45|
Focusing on having a good opening line + paragraph that reveals conflict
Focusing on punctuation
Focusing on dialogue tags
|# ¿ Sep 19, 2017 21:34|
Crits for week 266
Thank you! I'm taking this advice and trying to improve!
|# ¿ Sep 24, 2017 18:43|
Miss Cauldron was having a bad week. None of her students took her house-magic courses seriously, the teachers made little jokes behind her back and she had just bungled up the demonstration on how to strengthen crystal-wards. The same crystal-ward that kept the dragon in its stable... Now she was looking up at 1,000 lbs of trouble, trouble that she was responsible for...
With a mighty roar, the dragon smashed through its stable and turned to face her. Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes widened and a scream crept up her throat. From behind her, she heard the panicked screams of her students and she snapped to attention. It wouldn't do for a teacher to fly off the handle when a problem presented itself. She turned to the students and failed to smile, “I have everything under control.”
The dragon, its breath hot and heavy on her face, stalked towards her. Rubble from the stable fell all around its massive frame. Her legs shook as she backed up into the ruined crystal-ward, now a smouldering mess. With one quick motion, the dragon scooped her up and swallowed her, and the destroyed crystal-ward, whole.
Students screamed and ran as their teacher vanished inside the massive gullet of the dragon. The students flung spells at the dragon, but they were only house-mages, trained to clean and repair things. Some of the more advanced students flung firebolts at the dragon but they merely bounced off of the grey leather skin of the beast. The dragon let out a large roar as it advanced on the panicked students.
Suddenly, a dozen silver tipped arrows sunk into the dragon's wing. Winged hawkmen, the school's guard, emerged from the skies to the students' whoops and hollers. The dragon used one large claw to cut the meddlesome arrows of its wing and roared at the kettle of hawks. The hawks descended upon the dragon, their wings glistening in the noon-day sun. Fireballs sizzled through the sky as the dragon tried to shoot down the attackers. The hawkmen whirled and twisted, letting the sun's rays blind the dragon. Once they reached the dragon, they split in every direction and unleashed their spears, stabbing with precise strikes.
One of the hawkmen landed next to one of the students and with a rough voice commanded “You there, inside now!” He pointed at another dazed witch “You. Run and tell the others to evacuate.” As students rushed to follow his orders he surveyed the terrain. The stable areas were a good place to fight, lots of open space for his men to do hit and run attacks on the dragon and not get bogged down. The surrounding buildings had brick walls that could be used for cover. The hawkman pointed his spear at the dragon and joined his fellow guards.
As he rushed forward the dragon turned towards him and aimed a jet of flame at him. He jumped into the air barely avoiding the stream of fire and motioned for the other guards to follow. They flew high out of range of the flames and gathered together, readying another attack.
The dragon snarled in frustration and jumped back. As it landed with a massive thud it grabbed one of the crystal-wards with its tail and flung it into the air. The crystal-ward flew through the air, between the largest clump of hawkmen. The dragon shot a fireball at the crystal, causing a concussive force to expand from the crystal into the heavens. The concussive force smashed into the flying guards and they fell to the ground.
The dragon let out a grin, licking its lips. Drool oozed out of its mouth as it advanced upon an unconscious guard. A few dazed hawkmen stood up and tried to defend but they were easily knocked away with one swing of the dragon's massive front legs. The dragon let out its long tongue, entwining the guard's leg and started to pull it towards its mouth. The guard dangled above the dragon's maw when suddenly the dragon started coughing.
The monstrous beast stepped back and gagged. It straightened its neck and hacked. Tossing the guard aside the dragon coughed up a slimy object wearing a large hat. Miss Cauldron, holding onto a full intact crystal-ward like her life depended on it, stared defiantly at the dragon. She stared at it much like she did with any of the many of her misbehaving student, with a mixture of defiance and promise of ruination. The dragon was the first to flinch.
Miss Cauldron had no idea what to do. In a few seconds, she had encountered more danger than she had in her entire lifetime. She was lucky she had been able to repair the protective crystal. She was a house-mage, trained in cleaning pots with a flick of her wand and repairing wards. In her peripheral vision she saw a student waking towards her. She waved him away yelling, “Don't get close I have this under control.” She did not have it under control. “I know exactly what to do!” She had no idea what to do.
She slowly moved her head to survey the scene, never letting the dragon out of her sight. A few of the braver students were hauling unconscious hawkmen guards away. The wiser students were running away, avoiding broken crystal-war shards. The dragon hunched its shoulders and laid low to the ground, eyeing her with a wicked glare. It was then that she had an idea.
She was always taught that magic was a part of you. She was never adventurous and never bold. She always found it fitting that she could never fling fireballs or teleport. She could simply fix things and set things right. Magic seethed through her as she thought of the one thing that mattered. She was a teacher of the academy. She had students to teach, students that needed to learn that a teacher of the academy does not run away. No, they stand firm and fix things.
The dragon leapt towards her as she raised her wand defiantly. She planted her feet firmly into the ground and envisioned a large canyon bracing itself against the flood. The dragon lifted its face and let loose a huge gout of fire. The crystal-ward beside her warbled and started to crack as fire licked all around her. Her incantation turned into a scream as she loosed her magic on every broken crystal-ward in the vicinity. She ripped her magic through time, on every past incantation that had failed, on every charm that had shattered and on every failed spell. She gathered them in herself and did the only thing she knew how. She fixed them.
The crystal-ward next to her cracked in half as the dragon thrust its head towards her. She didn't even notice as the dragon's maw closed around her head. She had a perfect crystal-ward in her hand, interlaced with every failure in the past millennia, and she bound the dragon to it.
The dragon screamed as crystals shot from the ground, fell from the sky or simply appeared from thin air. The monstrous beast slammed its wings at the witch and howled in frustration as its attempts simply rebounded against an invisible wall. The dragon's eyes went wide and it stopped attacking. It clawed into the earth, only to meet an invisible wall. It flew into the air, only to be brought down by lightning. Every attempt at escape was blocked.
Miss Cauldron slumped down to her knees and took a deep breath, her whole body trembling from the effort. In front of her was a large crystal, larger than any of the other crystal-wards. Behind the massive crystal, the dragon stalked, angrily clawing at the invisible walls surrounding it. The witch looked up and let out a large smile as her students ran towards her. The guards got up and lifted her up on their shoulders and everyone cheered.
The next day Miss Cauldron walked towards the dragon-stables. Teachers that used to make jokes behind her back now gave her a slight bow. She waved at her group of students and they cheered as she walked down towards the ruined dragon-stable. Construction had already begun on containing the dragon around the new crystal-ward she had created. But that wasn't why she was here.
“Pop quiz time students. Your test for today is to fix all of this by period end.” she said as she pointed at the destruction the dragon had wrought.
I got you a Deathbringer Regent fresh from the shops
Focusing on having a good opening line + paragraph that reveals conflict
Focusing on punctuation
Focusing on dialogue tags
|# ¿ Sep 24, 2017 18:48|
these are not results, I just want to get mad in public about the sheer number of spelling mistakes and typos this week. Proofreading is not the enemy, people. This is the worst week I've ever seen in this regard -- almost every single story has at least one glaring mistake that f7 would've picked up immediately.
BRITISH ENGLISH IS THE PROPER ENGLISH YOU SAVAGES. Always add a freaking u to a word if you are unsure
|# ¿ Sep 26, 2017 00:35|
interprompt: seb sucks
here Lies Sebmojo
corruption rages rampant
quick mafia death
|# ¿ Sep 26, 2017 01:27|
I took a week off but I'm in
|# ¿ Oct 2, 2017 13:41|
I took a week off and read all the stories so how about some CRIIIIIITS
Keep in mind everyone here is a better writer than me so take this with a grain of salt. I prefer interesting starts so I focused on that.
Start is a bit... timid? We are told SOMETHING IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN but it takes a while to get there.
The dialogue is great and the reverence to to the object is very well done
The paragraph describing the suicide is a bit rough
The paragraph where the suicide actually happens is very confusing and a bit of a GOTCHA moment. I was expecting Kyle to die on stage, but all of a sudden its a different guy on stage? It's a bit hard to follow
Cool ending with the retirement
Commas are a bit oddly placed, sometimes they appear when a full stop would work.
Takes a bit to get started and stumbles halfway through but "plays" out well in the end
Maybe read it without a "Writers Voice" to see how it plays out.
Your start is incredibly boring. I'd take the advice T-Rex gave to me and have your conflict known at the start and go from there.
I think you have an interesting idea, foreign protagonist that really cares about his Japanese grammar.
I didn't get much from your character save for the fact that he hates living in Japan. When he does speak Japanese, the parts immediately afterwards where you take a step back and explain what is being said (or have the protagonist angsty complain about his Japanese) takes away from the story.
An interesting risk of having protagonist not speak English but fails at keeping the readers interest.
Improve your starting paragraph. Make it interesting and reveal the conflict right away.
Cool start that shows conflict quickly
Takes a bit to figure out whats happening but it's still cool
Solid story kept me reading and interested throughout
I got nothing, good story!
Start is okay
Premise comes early and punches fast
Dislike "THE SCENE" paragraph
The end comes suddenly but meh its flash
Grammar and Punctuation keeps getting in the way of enjoying the story
You wrote your protagonist well, hes a dislikeable jerk that only enjoys eva's company, and didn't turn off the reader
Neat little story that needed a good edit.
Get Grammarly and run the story through it.
This particular Thursday, he had found something interesting, and besides him and Eva, the only other person in the kitchen was Olive munching on her granola bar before her evening run.
Across the room, Olive from room 3 didn't even look up from her phone. He couldn't really get around to liking her, just because of the way she looked at him. Like he wasn’t allowed to sit there. She said, "There's got to be stuff on the internet."
Back in his room, he brushed his teeth and smelled his breath, thinking of how clever he'd been - usually, he couldn't talk about drama or novels at all, but as long as computers were involved, he had a home field advantage
Starting paragraph is rough. Filled with grammar issues and at the very end reveals it is a first-person narrative.
Conflict comes up quickly but the justification for it is odd. It's theatre critics complaining about having to watch a play? Why are they not looking forward to the play they know nothing about? I think revealing that Jamie Bellows was a terrible playwright in the first paragraph would have gotten around this. I think you had an uhh predictable twist so you didn't want that to come up.
Your dialogue and characters are good!
You repeat damp twice in the same paragraph in the mid part :P.
Cutting suddenly to chaos is... kind of lame and at that point, I have already predicted what was going to happen.
I like your ending
A rocky start that gets much better once people start talking. A predictable ending but fun to read.
Fix your start or do a complete rewite of the start.
Exmond's GRAMMAR PICK OF THE DAY
GRAMMAR baby. You use the commas too much in the Aunt Mildrew part. I keep tripping over the commas you put in your sentences. I would turf the whole describe Aunt Mildrew part as it's rife with grammar errors.
Im bored by the funeral scene. I thought the conflict was the creepy uncle but uhhh..
Yeah pacing was a problem here, If you had more length and more time you could have written a small novella with two subplots but it doesn't seem to work in flash fiction
A simple horror story that gets sidetracked by a funeral
Look up parenthetical commas.
"The fact that he spoke so highly of her, despite having never met her, annoyed both Uncle Frank and me."
"The fact that he spoke so highly of her despite having never met her annoyed both Uncle Frank and me."
The top one makes frank and protagonist sound like a jerk. They hate the fact that the priest spoke highly of Aunt Mildrew!
The second sentence makes gives them a reason why they dislike the priest speaking highly of Aunt Mildrew.
I don't know what the conflict is and there are a lot of words at the start
Mid way in I still dont know what the conflict is
This seems more non-fiction than fiction. It's a bit tough to read with no conflict of interest
Paragraphs are long and similar length (I know nitpicky!) Makes it intimidating to read.
A great article for wikipedia
Uhh, put a conflict in your story and put it in early
Hah, good starting sentence, its funny and explains a lot using few words. Humor keeps up on the 2nd sentence
By second "Scene" I don't know what the conflict is.
You mention the protagonist's name but it's a bit awkward. Easy to miss that shes named Veirs
By the third scene I know what was going to happen, the rest of the scenes did little.
Good story with a great start
Maybe cut the story down a little bit.
Opening sentence is weird. You get straight to the point and beat around the bush.
A man who maybe has never had a friend, but if he had, he sure didn’t look like Tashard.
This is a really weird sentence and I don't know why the two are connected.
Don't use maybe
Some good descriptions "Picturesque future that neither of them would experience"
Ill be honest I stopped at the 3rd scene, didn't know what the conflict was and got bored
Start is a bit weird, lot of character names, description of objects.
Conflict is the show started and some dood left?
Advice: Shorten the story and bring the conflict and interesting stuff waaaay earlier
Cool descriptive start!
By the fourth paragraph, I think I know the conflict, or at least what the interesting part is about your story
Very descriptive, I felt I could see the room and characters
Only nitpick is some grammar things
Ending is touching, but it is also an ending where we are told a lot of things (Info dump).
Overall: Great story
gently caress YES COOL START
Great references, funny story
Action scenes could be more fleshed out
Wha.. what was that ending
Great story that has a lot of good references and funny scenes. Action scenes are.. oddly written and the ending comes out of nowhere and loving ends the thing when obviously it should of been a novel.
|# ¿ Oct 2, 2017 14:48|
As one of the few people in TD who has actually been to Belgium (pretty sure this isn't too big of an assumption), I feel obligated to judge.
Way to ruin what my story is about.
|# ¿ Oct 2, 2017 20:39|
hey ho I don't have time to write good and such but I do have time to beat up some stories real good
I'll take you up on your offer as well:
|# ¿ Oct 4, 2017 15:50|
Exmond fucked around with this message at 23:00 on Dec 31, 2017
|# ¿ Oct 8, 2017 16:47|
Dishonorable Mention goes to Exmond's A Meaty Deal. While the prose, lack of punctuation and cardboard characters could be forgiven in a week like this one, the meat jokes got old approximately 5 minutes after the IRC chat stopped making them. Much like the Dutch, the meat jokes reared their ugly head once too often to my liking, and this deserved a badge of shame of sorts.
<Deltasquid> “We have lived for 100 of years and nobody knows our names. This statue is on the lips of every bloody Belgium person and tourist”
God..drat you dialogue tags and dialogue in general! Can the next prompt be having mute characters?
|# ¿ Oct 9, 2017 18:09|
Week 270 Crits
|# ¿ Oct 10, 2017 02:55|
I'm willing to co-judge if that would be agreeable to you, Obliterati.
Do you need another judge Obliterati?
|# ¿ Oct 12, 2017 15:12|
You have my knowledge of anime tropes and basic grasp of grammar, I shall judge this week if you will allow it!
|# ¿ Oct 12, 2017 15:59|
Thanks for the critique Obliterati. Even if devastating, it's the first I've ever gotten and it means a lot as I do want to get better.
I read your story and you took the prompt and then had it affect something (Countries growing larger) and then threw it out for THE STRETCHING!!!! THE STRETCHED ARE COMING!
It was odd and seemed like you used the prompt as an excuse to write about stretchy people.
|# ¿ Oct 16, 2017 15:18|
Here are my crits, remember that you are a better writer than me and way better than thee many failures we had this week
Good: The middle is good, where he explains whats happening. And the end is amazing. I really like that end sentence, it wraps things together. The ending ramps things up and nails it down. I might use this as an example on how to end a story.
The Bad: The start is not good and is very boring. It is literally somebody explaining what's happening and while that can be done in other stories it drags out in this one. Because this story is somebody explaining what's happening and it is only in the middle/end does the tone change. The problems I have with the start enhance the story in the middle and in the end.
Overall: A story that is slow to start but rewards you with a well-written tone shift and trippy ending.
Good: Great start that continues to escalate the situation. It keeps its frantic pace until the end of the story.
Bad: Action,action and more action. You up the stakes but don't have much characterization. Also you don't explain the prompt very well. It sounds more like the fire is sentient than tech has morals now.
Grammar: fat bellied bombers should have been fat-bellied bombers.
Overall: A story that starts out fast, has a great start and keeps frantically running. At the end of the story the reader is confused.
The Good: Obvious lot of effort was put into this piece. That's what saved it from a DM
Grammar: AN HELICOPTER? Those bodies where of people dead? He didn’t know whoever used to live there, and why
they left was an even bigger mystery, be he was glad he’d found it. (This looks odd because it looks like a parathentical
comma but it can't be). MAN GOES SIT!
The one in the lead. a full gut to him and a mean looking shotgun, shouts something but the man doesn’t hear it as
he tries to wrest free from beneath the leather chair the pistol he’d stashed there. Before he is able to get a grip on it,
the fat man rushes forward and hits him straight in the nose with the stock of the shotgun.
Read this sentence. He tries to wrest free from beneath the leather chair? The leather chair has him bound? A
full stop instead of a comma?
Overall: Take a deep breath Simbyotic. There are a ton of grammar errors and ton of fixes that could of been fixed with some editing. Those would of helped but the biggest problem with your story is it tries to explain itself too much, and then doesn't explain itself at all in the tensest situation of the story. The starting paragraph of the story is okay, passable. The next 15 paragraphs or so are boring, explain things badly to the reader, and lose the readers interest. Then when we get to the tense gambling situation I have no clue what's going on, why a game has to be playd, why bones give you power and why I care about your protagonist. The one redeeming thing about this story is the start. You have some good prose, it's a very different tone from the other stories I have read so far.
The Good: Well written, no grammar mistakes. A neat little character reveal!
The Bad: No conflict whatsoever and you missed the prompt by a mile? I don't see how the prompt comes into play save for a little one-liner where she says she will bring everything closer to them (Ohh The universe expanding rate is negative).
Overall: Well written post-credit scenes for The film Mother!
Spectres of Autism
The Good: Good prose and descriptions. Good start and I like how we start to doubt the protagonist's state of mind.
The Bad: Some stylistic changes are a bit weird. The ending paragraph is weird, why do we focus on Mother Dora, is this all mother Dora's illusion?
Grammar: They talk most about life and love, but sometimes he hears them condemn or praise Irshushin, and the tower that stretches to the sky, orbed by paths like a woman is orbed by admirers.
This is a bit hard to parse. A better editor than I can tell you how to fix this; I think it could have used a semicolon to prase the list.
The Good: The day in the life of a detective frames your prompt very well and you make great use of it. We see how it affects the world, the character and other things. You handle multiple characters well.
The Bad: The ending fizzles. I'm a detective I solve crimes except I don't. Pacing is also odd, we learn about the box but.. it gets weird. You explain the box and then explain why people get sick but that's midway in the story and It.. seemed awkwardly placed.
Overall: An intriguing murder mystery and peek at a unique world that fizzles due to the waste from THE BOX. But maybe that's the point.
The Good: You have an interesting idea and explain it without doing an info dump. Vending machine man and Christine seem like independent, if one note, characters. Like they have a life of their own.
The Bad: Start is meh, you explain a riot is going to happen then take 5 paragraphs or so to get there. The story just ends in the middle of a tense scene.
Your prompt was the Dunning-Kruger Effect and.. unless your commentary is all academics are incompetent then I think you missed your prompt. Your story reads more like people who are at the top of their field suddenly lose knowledge and confidence. If your story was meant to say all academic people are without competence than I missed it.
Overall: Start in the middle and read down and it is a great story.
The good: Great start and immediate sympathetic protagonist. Good general idea for a story.
The Bad: The character goes from "MY WIFE IS DEAD" to meandering in 1 paragraph. You made your protag sympathetic but failed to follow up. You describe events in the lives of two featureless characters that I don't know anything about and it's "We ate food on a rooftop". Also the protagonist kind of accepted his fate but I needed to be convinced more.
OVERALL: The story is akin to a drunk man who grabs you at a bar, screams "MY WIFE IS DEAD" , then goes meandering up a tower and dies.
I could hear everyone of my breaths
Sham bam bamina!
The Good: The start and the fact that its short
The Bad: You start with "SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN" *waves hands around* and then immediately say "it's not so bad". In paragraph 2. You jump from scene to scene that the reader has no clue whats happening. It's a confusing mess and I had to lookup what Millers law was to figure out what you were doing
The Good: Interesting start that draw in the reader, story is of good length for the idea.
The Bad: Grammar; You needed to proofread this. It doesn't get in the way but since you keep doing the same error. Characters are overall bland
Overall: It's a story, didn't really affect me overall and its a bit cliche (man destroys universe with science). The angel being a dick is interesting and the way he talks about the horsemen is great.
nondescript instead of non-descript
two-day instead of two day. He had day stubble eh?
the fire and pain were gone, instead of was gone (Was is singular, were is plural)
white-hot instead of white hot. I mean hot fury exists but not white fury
The Good: I like your transitions! I haven't seen something like that before and they are great.
The Bad: Style. I get that the protag has alzheimers but the lack of captization and grammar (its vs it's) makes it hard to read. That might be the point but... If you are going to make it hard to read at least draw me in. The sudden reveal that alzheimers is gone from the world is delivered with about as much emotional impact as this judgement (read: not a lot).
Overall: A risky take inside the mind of alzheimers that... fails to deliver.
The Good: Don't take this the wrong way but the ending is nice in a cliche way. Like "The adventure continues" and the protagonists are out of danger but optimistic. Made me smile.
The Bad: That being said.. Proofread. Several grammar errors. Also learn dialogue tags, we don't need a "X said" after every piece of dialogue. Fortunately your dialogue is spaced out with events so it doesn't poke out like an ugly nail. Also, learn pacing, I read the most boring accident scene.
Overall: A monotone story full of grammar errors.
THROUGH less pretty?
if we we left?
hissing noise once once I?
No comma after had been dented and.
In front of camper, shoudl be in front of the caper
20th-century instead of 20th century
The Good: Good Prose and descriptions. The story flips between happy songs and a dirge it feels like. It's done subtle and I like it.
The Bad: The conflict doesn't exist. From what I can tell the archive is a meaningless thing, it repeats indefinitely (or it's about to die) until things show up and THINGS HAPPEN. But.. I have no idea what happened or the significance.
Overall: A story that elicits emotions: feel happy, feel the tension, feel sad. Once it's over though you realize it didn't have a story to tell.
Why no double quotes why do you hate them
time-lapse not timelapse
Why are Rainclouds captialized
The Good: Your character is relatable and focuses on just him and pulls it off. It has an arc as well! Your prose is great too!
The bad: Your start is literally the character telling me who I am and that he remembers do drat much. It's a boring start. The character comes off a bit depressed and drab to read, which only gives strenght in how you pulled off the single character narrative.
probabably isn't a word. Proofread!
Overall: A story that is weighty and weighs down on the reader. Bit too tough for me to make sense of but it's definety good!
The Good: Humor is well done and made me chuckle a few times. The start is really good, giving a lot of characterization in a few sentences.
The bad: The johhnson's dialogue interrupts the flow and seems bland? You don't explain the prompt and it takes a bit to realize the ship literally needs sex to stay afloat. Also the premise is a bit voyeuristic.
Overall: A hillarious romp into CurlingIron's voyeuristic fetish that I quite enjoyed!
The Good: Start draws me in, even though there isn't a conflict. You have good character descriptions that make me continue to read.
The Bad: You need a conflict. You fail to make me care about the character. Also you need to proofread, bunch of errors.
The meh: Your twist, I don't care about either character.
Overall: A delightful read at the start, with impressive character descriptions and good dialogue! Fails in the middle as it continues to clambour on and ends the story with a frantic twist to raise tension.
leather-bound, not leather bound.
at my hand's behest, not hands behest. WHOSE BEHEST DOES IT BELONG TO MOTHER FUCKER
malodies is not a word
use - to do spelling. J-U-L, looks better than j..u..l..
resplendent instead of resplendant
YOU STILL HAVE HELP ME?
The Good: I... It's a story? There are words.
The Bad: Alice is a jerk and I dislike her, You take so long to get the conflict Im bored, Bad grammar (Look up however) that repeats itself, Your start is boring. You want to make the scenery a thing but its boring to read. The dialogue is bad.
Overall: A dislikeable protagonist please long boring start make this a tedious read
The word "However" is tough to use, however, I think you used it wrong and needed to add a comma after it.
drawn in by IT'S, should be drawn in by its
begun instead of began. Tense issue I think
campfire instead of camp fire
The Good: A few good sentences and descriptions. I like the catchphrase
The bad: Your start is slow and plodding
Overall: I liked this story, it was simple and had one objective. I felt it did a better emotional punch then the alzheimers story/
The good: Neat way you get around explaining things, the body horror was well written, Jayden/Squid man is well written (Specially for a kid).
The bad: The ending. ALL OF A SUDDEN IM MADE OF STARS! Huh? Kind of comes out of left field how she suddenly gets there.
The Meh: The start is plodding and does cheap thrills to raise tension. A scream here, a yell here. You don't go to a zombie movie to watch them slowly unfurl how the apocalypse happens.
|# ¿ Oct 16, 2017 21:51|
Going for a 6th DM or Lose!
|# ¿ Oct 16, 2017 22:34|
enjoying the flash rule giving, I think I'll spread the net a little wider
Wait I didn't ask for a flash rule though?
|# ¿ Oct 17, 2017 15:20|
A Cop Worth a drat
“Officer Medenville, the door is ajar.” my car told me as I opened the door to my hover-cruiser and prepared to jump down twelve feet. “The door is ajar.” it insisted while I leapt into the air. “The door is a-”
My cruiser never got to finish its philosophical statement as the explosive drone slammed into it. As I fell through the sky I saw the last object my wife and I had bought together explode in a fireball of metal and past regrets. I landed on the ground and dove behind a large decrepit sign, the letters “WELCOME TO FUNCO LAND!” peeling off of it, and focused on the situation at hand.
“Hah!” The punk laughed as he snapped off a few more shots. Parts of my car fell from the sky, catching one of the badly-aimed laz bolt shots. If you squinted hard enough you could make out a few shining pieces of light reflecting on metal through the smoke; An appropriate enough metaphor for my relationship with my ex.
“Let the girl go.” I yelled, reminding myself why I was here. A domestic dispute turned bad plus one punk on too many drugs to list equalled a hostage situation. And just my luck the bastard had gone to Red-Town, off-limits to most cops. Luckily I wasn’t your average cop, I put lives ahead of regulations.
The punk ignored my instructions and ducked behind a large animatronic dinosaur, dragging a poor girl with him. He started running towards the funhouse entrance, a few kilometres away, hoping to lose me. I rushed after him and a small part of my brain nagged at me that I didn’t have to be here.
Maybe it was the fact that Wendy, my ex, had called me a few days ago. Told me now that the job was ending maybe we could meet up. Or maybe it was the bundle of paperwork that was my achievement for twenty-five years on the force. My career had taken over my life, Wendy will tell you that, but it hadn’t been exciting. Beat cop, walking the streets. Maybe I just wanted to go out with a bang, a heroic rescue; Feel like a cop that was worth a drat.
When it became evident I wouldn’t catch up to the punk I pulled out my Walter-PP7 and pointed it at the funhouse.
At my command the Walter-PP7 wrapped itself around my arm and extended a good eight feet. The PP7, now looking more like a cannon, let out a slow whine that grew in intensity. I aimed at the funhouse and once the whine hit max intensity I pulled the trigger. My feet skidded across the ground as a large blue blast of electricity shot out of the gun, air rushing past the beam, and hit the funhouse. The funhouse exploded, denying the punk his escape.
“The girl!” I yelled and ducked behind an old bumper car. “My partner is coming with backup. Come out and give the girl and you can walk away from this whole thing.”
The punk stepped out from behind a giant animatronic dinosaur, his long white hair billowing around him. Christ, he looked more like a woman than a grizzled , drug taking punk. He was dragging a small girl ahead of him, using her as cover. On her head was a visor and I realized she was stuck in VR space. I stepped out and motioned for the girl with one hand while I unholstered my backup pistol, an old school Ruger, from behind my back.
“I don't believe you.” The punk said and raised his laz pistol.
I’m not a good poker player, my partner was twenty minutes out, which is why the punk probably called my bluff. What I am is a good shot. The punk snapped a shot off at the same time as I pulled out my Ruger and aimed it. A second later I fired and the punk’s head snapped back in a bloody mess. the girl loosened from his grasp; her VR headset was still on, playing her sweet dreams of summer.
“The girl was safe.” I thought as the gun fell from my hands. I was a drat hero. The world turned cold; I looked down and noticed the large hole in my chest and the ground rose up to meet me. I thought about Wendy.
I said I was a good shot; never said I was fast.
Flash Rule: I must include two anime tropes
Big loving Beam Gun (Psycho Pass inspired)
Bishonene white haired male
|# ¿ Oct 22, 2017 16:17|
6th dm/loss in a row and I have to ask. What does it take to not get a dm?
|# ¿ Oct 24, 2017 13:36|
Fix mother loving punctuation around dialogue
Not get my 7th DM in a row
Write something dry and boring, but that has no grammar errors or punctuation errors
|# ¿ Oct 24, 2017 22:11|
A Good Dog
That dog was always going to be the death of me, I thought as I ran towards Ivy’s dog. The mutt had always wanted to kill me and it was finally going to get its wish. Spot dropped his beloved stick and barked at the loving bear. The bear roared and swiped its massive claw at the tiny dog. I dove and scooped Spot into my hands. For my bravery I was rewarded a small slice across my forehead. Blood ran down my face and one command echoed in my mind: RUN.
I listened to my instinct and scrambled past the confused bear. Pangs of guilt and frustration hit me as once again all I could do was run away. Spot continued to bark warnings of ruin at the bear from my hands. Ivy had suggested we get the dog when she first got her prognosis and I relented. Worst decision of my life. I was surprised Spot hadn’t run and abandoned me.
Time slowed down as I looked behind me and saw the bear catching up. The trees glistened in the sunlight and I realized I was completely alone in the forest, that I was going to die alone. My brain went into overdrive, frantically trying to find a way to survive. In between the panic and my instincts yelling at me, a smaller, sinister part of my brain whispered. Stop. Just give up, it’s easy. You wouldn’t have to deal with Ivy and your fuckup.
The forest became a blur as tears streamed down my face. Only a few hours ago I had received the call. “Terminal,” Ivy told me. “The cancer is terminal.” The doctors didn’t know how long she had. A few days, maybe a few weeks. My instinct had told me to run then, and I had listened. Maybe I did deserve to die here.
A jolt of pain ran through my leg and the ground rushed up to meet me. Spot rolled out of my arms and yelped as he tumbled across the forest path. I spit up a mouthful of dirt and froze as I heard the sharp crunch of a bear’s paw breaking a stick. My mind went blank and fear got the better of me. I lay helpless as I heard the bear’s low guttural snarl get closer when a loud bark pierced the air.
Spot struggled, every breath a challenge, but managed to get on all four of his legs. He crawled between me and the bear and stood there, head held up high. His defiant barks echoed through the still forest — I ain’t running. The bear raised a massive paw and brought it down on the tiny dog.
The bear was started as a stick landed beside it and its paw narrowly missed Spot’s head. Another rock bounced on the ground and came to a stop on the bear’s paw. The bear let out a confused growl and backed away,
“Get away from my dog!” somebody yelled.
As I got up, another rock in my hand, I realized I was the person yelling. I threw the rock and it bounced harmlessly off of the bear’s hide. It might be useless, it might all be for naught, but I wasn’t going to sit idly by. Spot’s defiance must be rubbing off on me. I wasn’t going to just run away and watch somebody die. Spot looked at me, I looked at Spot. We might die but it wouldn’t be alone. Together we roared at the bear.
Something fired off in my brain, like my old motorcycle engine revving up. I knew what I had to do with Ivy. It was so simple; I was afraid. I needed to stop running away. The bear must have gotten it too, because it took one look at the two screaming idiots in front of it and scampered away. I laughed as the bear retreated into the woods and I picked up Spot. The small dog whimpered and licked my face.
I fumbled for the cellphone in my jean pockets and dialed Ivy’s number. A few short rings later I heard her angelic voice. I took a deep breath and said:“Hey, sorry about a few hours ago. Listen, I was scared, and it got the better of me. But whatever happens: from now on I’ll be there”
Spot looked up at me and wagged his tail. I gave him a pat and picked him up.
“Spot, too. We will be there, by your side. Always.”
|# ¿ Oct 29, 2017 18:16|
Nine of Wands (RWS)
|# ¿ Oct 29, 2017 18:18|
Only one DM this week, and it goes to Exmond. Please don’t get discouraged. You’re making progress, but there’s still too much pulp action in a week that called for emotion and strong characters.
Requesting Crits and uhh pointing out your prompt never called for emotion and strong characters.I'd specifically like to know why it was a DM, if anyone can help me with that.
|# ¿ Oct 31, 2017 03:22|
Crits of Two Stories I Have Something to Say About
Thank you for the crit!
|# ¿ Nov 1, 2017 15:27|
Crit on Jay's piece
Just remember you are a better writer than me, so take this worth a grain of salt among a very salty ocean made of my tears.
Overall: I liked this story, it has conflict, good prose. It deals with a simple thing, somebody being bored of their duty and wanting to leave. The way the conflict is laid out doesn't seem cliched. The start trips after making a sick music reference and the ending doesn't add much to the story. It's the middle, where we learn more about Benny and the devil has a chance to be the devil that the story delivers.
What worked: Exploring Benny, his relationship with Rothko. Your prose about the devil reaching into Benny's mind. When the devil speaks and tempts Benny away. That whole section flows nice and gets into the character.
What was interesting: The start asking the reader a question is really neat. It can also be used to sum up Benny and the ending of the story can be used to answer that question.
What didn't: The start fails to draw me despite it being interesting. I also don't get why Benny screams about finding another trail. The whole start fails to interest and it's only when we go to the ward and Rothko do I start to get curious. The devil escaping comes out of nowhere and the solution to the escape also comes out of nowhere. The ending, man... Agggh, if you were looking to answer your question at the start of the story you did it and that's great. That's freaking interesting and cool. If you wanted me to get closer to Benny, to deliver him closure, to have an arc... I don't think this ending did it.
|# ¿ Nov 1, 2017 19:23|
the story must be set inside a tub of ice cream (correct flavor)
"I woke up and found myself in a rounded tub full of cybernetic grandpas and vanilla ice cream. My own personal Valhalla. Only problem was I was lactose-intolerant."
|# ¿ Nov 1, 2017 19:43|
some crits from funhouse week
|# ¿ Nov 7, 2017 04:42|
Thunderdome Week CCLXXV: Bring on the Lovers, Liars and Clowns
A large thump woke me up and a letter slid under my door way. I opened the contents of the letter, it had a name and a gun. Outside I heard the screams as thunderdome brawls started.
The crowd gathered and chanted for blood and meta. Visceral gore fell on the ground as a newbie fought a judge. New york city melted into META york city.
I had a job to do and it would probably cause me a loss, but things needed to be set right.
A loss because this idea is so bad
|# ¿ Nov 7, 2017 17:46|
|# ¿ Jul 27, 2021 10:16|
Tell, don't ask, you goddam weeble.
If you have enough time to post in this thread you have enough time to enter, don't you think?
|# ¿ Nov 7, 2017 23:31|