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Albatrossy_Rodent fucked around with this message at 02:06 on Jan 13, 2022 |
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Jan 13, 2022 01:33
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| # ¿ May 16, 2024 11:25 |
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The Sea Turtle and the Octopus 823 words The Sea Turtle heaved herself out of the sea. Behind her came the Octopus, pulling himself along the hot sand with his staff of dead-white coral. "How much further?" said the Octopus. "I'm afraid these tentacles aren't as strong as they once were, dear lady." "Not much further now," said the Sea Turtle, sighing to herself. He'd done very little else on their adventure across half the ocean but complain about the soreness of his tentacles. If this dotty fool were her last hope, perhaps there was no hope at all. The Sea Turtle came up to the little spot in the sand where she had once hatched from her egg. The Octopus pulled himself beside her; he was slow, but he could not be accused of dawdling. "This is it, then," wheezed the Octopus. "Please give me a second to catch my breath." The Sea Turtle was about to remind the Octopus of all the seconds she had already allowed him to catch his breath, then reminded herself that unlike turtles, octopuses were never meant to come ashore. The Octopus showed considerable bravery coming this far with her. "So that's the sky, then?" said the Octopus, expanding his tentacles along the sand with intense relaxation. "Why, it's near as blue as the sea was in Poseidon's prime." "You should see it at night, when it's covered in tiny little lights." They spent a moment together watching a little cloud glide beneath the sun. "Alright then. Best get to it," said the Octopus. "I'll need to get back to the sea to breathe soon." He hoisted himself up as the Sea Turtle got into position. Long, long ago, before Atlantis was consumed by the Green, the Octopus had been the court wizard to King Poseidon. The Sea Turtle had spent years searching for him, following rumors and whispers. "Do you cast the spell before or after I…" said the Sea Turtle. "After," said the Octopus. "I forget, do you turtles like your privacy when you…" "Truth be told, I don't know," said the Sea Turtle. "No one ever taught me proper turtle etiquette." "I suppose not, no," said the Octopus. "I'll turn away then. Go on then, do your business." The Octopus averted his gaze, and the Turtle laid her eggs in the sand. "Alright then," said the Sea Turtle. "Should I bury them?" "Hmm," said the Octopus, bringing a tentacle to his bulbous head in consideration. "I suppose you shan't. The magic will work best without sand in between." Then the Octopus raised all his tentacles into the air, his coral staff aimed at the sun. He gave a chant in Ancient Octopusish, a sad and somber gurgle. The Sea Turtle buried her eggs, and she and the Octopus started their march back into the sea. "So that's it then?" said the Sea Turtle. "That's it," said the Octopus. "And you're sure it will work?" "My dear lady, with ocean magic, you can never be quite sure it will work. Especially with a spell I've never tried before…" The Turtle stopped. "Wait. What do you mean 'never tried before'? You told me you'd done this a hundred times!" "I've done a variation a hundred times. Kings of the ocean wanting male heirs, you see. Never cast a spell to make eggs hatch female until just now." The Sea Turtle looked back at that little spot in the sand with deep sadness. "Oh my dear lady," said the Octopus. "I can make no promises of our endeavor's success, and if you recall, I never did. Perhaps this whole venture was doomed to fail, and the sea turtles doomed to fade from 'neath the sea." They both gazed at the endless green sea before them. "But I dare say, there couldn't have been a finer last hope for turtlekind than you." The Sea Turtle looked from the algae-rotted sea to her companion, feeling a sort of pitiful affection for the old man. He had, like her, come all this way knowing a fool's hope was better than none at all. "It will all be okay in the end," said the Octopus. "The Green is not death, the Green is life. Algae and bacteria and fungus and plankton. The end of our world is not the end of all worlds. Life goes on, even if our lives don't. And, male or female, we know there will be one more generation of Sea Turtles." The Sea Turtle began to weep, and her tears vanished on the hot sand. "Thank you," she said. "No, thank you, my friend," said the Octopus. "All those years in solitude, I never expected another quest. I am happy you called me to one more. Well, then, goodbye. I hope we will meet again, even if I doubt...oh to hell with my doubts! I await our next adventure!" The Octopus plunged into the sea, leaving the Sea Turtle to her tears.
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Jan 17, 2022 04:17
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I'm crittin ya shiiiit!crabrock posted:Liebrary Alright, so the big takeaways: 1. Too many characters. I had no idea what was the deal with Beth or Roy or Gary because there weren't enough words to give them one. 2. I liked the part where they killed the AI, but by the end, it seemed like that character was...irrelevant. 3. Since this is a parody of Power Rangers/Sailor Moon/any major property where regular people get color-coded superpowers, maybe make it, I dunno, cheesier? "The real magic is READING!" or something.
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Jan 17, 2022 22:37
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Guess im doing two grumpy wizard stories in a row. In.
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Jan 18, 2022 19:28
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Trivia 1199 words. Subprompt: literally the only person who isn't a wizard "Welcome to Trivia," says the Host. She speaks a language so complex and precise that Doug had to memorize the contents of three sprawling encyclopedias just to acquire a tourist's half-fluency. Doug looks out into the crowd gathered on the mountaintop. There are only Sages here. More noticeable than their strange, weathered robes and enormous, intricate hats are their bored expressions. Doug has never seen a Sage of Apocryphayn smile or frown or cry or growl, which he attributes to their knowledge of all things past, present, and future. Doug is the most accomplished trivia player in the history of his home country, Garrettjensensland. He was the reigning champion of the game show KnowledgeQuest! for twelve straight seasons until his husband fled the marriage in Doug's car, leaving Doug with no way to reach the studio in time for the taping. Doug had just retired from his long-standing position as host of KnowledgeQuest! when he received an invitation from the people of Apocryphayn to appear on their own preeminent game show. He's the first foreigner ever to play Trivia, and one of only eleven mortals ever to set foot in Apocryphayn. "We are delighted to introduce our first contestant, Doug Johnson. He has been called the Sage of Garrettjensensland. We will see if this title holds when competing against real Sages," says the Host. Doug cannot tell whether she is naked under the swarm of maggots gnawing ceaselessly about her. The crowd maintains their blank expressions during their rhythmic applause. They're as unfamiliar as any of the cheering mobs of strangers Doug had encountered in his homeland. The Host continues. "Our second contestant is Viin, Elder Archivist of the Library of Souls." Every bone of Viin's body can be seen through his glassy flesh. "Our returning champion is Talamar the Strong, god of war and famine on sixteen worlds." Talamar holds a bloody sword over his shoulder, his patchwork robes woven from the bizarre furs of a hundred star-scattered monsters. He looks as bored as every other Sage despite his wild, barbaric demeanor. "As always, our questions are conceived in the Phantom Realm and cannot be foreseen by even the wisest Sage," says the Host. "We'll start with an easy one. In the past twenty-four hours, how many life-bearing planets were destroyed across the universe? You have sixty seconds." Doug looks over at his opponents. Talamar is stiller than a statue. Viin reaches out his palm, presumably to feel the air molecules on his hand in order to understand their paths across time and space and thus ascertain the trajectories of all particles in the universe. Viin and Talamar reach for their dry-erase boards and black markers. If the universe is infinite, then an infinite number of worlds must have been destroyed in the preceding day, Doug reasons. He writes a sideways 8 on his board. "That's time," says the Host. "Show us your answer, Doug." There is a minute change in the faces of the crowd towards perplexion; even in their omniscience, the Sages could never have foreseen an answer so wrong and dumb. "I'm sorry, that is incorrect," says the Host. "Viin, what's your response?" Viin's board reads 406,850. "I'm sorry, that is also wrong. Remember not to count the planets destroyed after I asked the question. Talamar, what's your answer?" Talamar displays his board: 406,824. "That is correct. Talamar gains the lead with two hundred gold." The next questions are similarly obtuse. How many ants live in an anthill on the other side of the planet? How many leaves are on one particular tree hundreds of light-years away? How will the war between the automata of the Beepbopboop System and the Space-Squid of the Grglrg Nebula be eventually resolved? Doug manages to win a hundred gold on the question "how many babies will be born in Garrettjensensland in the next five years?" by knowing Garrettjensensland's birth rates and economic trajectory and also by being one-in-a-million lucky. He has gold to gamble for the final question. "Tonight's Concluding Wager Question is…" says the Host. "What is love?" Of all the questions the Host had asked tonight, this is easily the hardest for Doug. His mom and dad had spent his whole childhood thinking something was wrong with him. He's had a few girlfriends and a husband in his time, and they'd all left him when they realized they meant less to him than learning a single dumb new fact. Doug has only ever loved trivia, no matter how hard he's tried to fabricate love with friends and family and fuckbuddies. "Viin, may I see your response?" says the Host. Viin's board reads a strong positive emotional state associated with attachment and desire that evolved to form social cohesion among individual tribal groups. "Sorry Viin, I'm afraid that's incorrect. What was your wager?" Viin had bet it all. Doug is now in second place. "Talamar the Strong, what is your response?" says the Host. Talamar's board is a diagram of the neurotransmitter sequence that activates the sensation of love in the human brain. It is so detailed and precise and nakedly beautiful that the most wondrous painter in Garrettjensensland could never imitate it in a hundred years of attempts. "I'm sorry, Talamar. That is incorrect. What was your wager?" Talamar had bet everything but fifty gold, certainly in anticipation of Viin's all-or-nothing wager. Doug realizes that he's in the lead. There's a look of deep incomprehension from the crowd; how had the wisest Sages in Aprocryphayn fallen behind this meek, sweater-vested mortal? Even the Host looks confused as she turns toward Doug. "Doug, what's your answer?" Doug turns over his dry-erase board. BULLSHIT Each of Viin's plainly visible bones rattle. Talamar grunts "Unggh?" "An intriguing but overly cynical answer," says the Host. "That is inco…" Doug speaks. "The only thing I ever loved was learning stuff that would never affect me. I ignored everything else that was supposed to be important: fun, friendship, walks on the beach, how to be a good kisser. I don't love fun or friendship or beaches or kissing. I love trivia. I love bullshit." The Host wipes a tear from her maggoty eyes. "I'm sorry, the correct answer is the primordial chaotic beauty connecting all existence. And what was your wager?" Doug lifts the little flap hiding his gamble. 0 The crowd is dumbfounded. They have never witnessed an event so stupidly improbable or improbably stupid. Then they applaud, smiling and cackling with glee. Talamar the Strong, god of war and famine on sixteen worlds, had won every episode of Trivia for a thousand years until the day he made one stupid wager and lost to Doug Johnson, Sage of Garrettjensensland. Doug accepts his sack of coins and his invitation to play in the next day's competition. He shakes Viin's bony hand and receives a grunt of approval from Talamar. He is lifted onto the shoulders of the rapturous crowd, the only people in the universe who love bullshit as deeply as him.
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Jan 23, 2022 19:08
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Interprompt: write about a baby in everyday, mundane reality, 500 words.
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Jan 24, 2022 16:03
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Hey I crit a bunch of these stories I'll do the rest later. Organburner--a good step up from last week, particularly in terms of competence, ie looking and feeling like a real story with real input put in. You obviously listened to your crits and wrote a better story. You have some neat ideas here, too. "Shaming magic," ghost dad, and the abilities of a bard were all clever. Your weakest point is the ending. I feel like this might be a case of listening to your crits from last week too hard and missing that different endings work better or worse in different contexts. Gustavo dying feels like the natural conclusion of the story, but explaining that he lived in one paragraph of summary feels like cheating. Just cutting that paragraph would have done wonders. Something Else Hmmm...dont know what to think of this one. I dont understand it fully, and I can't tell whether that's your fault as a writer or mine as a reader. Is the black-toothed woman a hallucination? Why are two major characters introduced so close to the end? Ambiguity is good, incomprehensibility isn't. Bad Seafood This is confidently creepy, but seems to have too few actual things happening to justify even its short word count Flerp This rocks, you know it rocks, not a whole lot else to say. If there's one critique I have, it's that the extended family backstory doesn't feel super necessary and maaaaybe could've been better if it were woven into the main story so we could get to the action faster. Maybe, who knows, maybe that version would've sucked. Ceighk This is nice, and I appreciate the way in which information is drip-fed throughout the story. There's a tangible sense of place with little information, and the protagonists choice feels earned. Well done. Staggy This feels the most on-prompt story of the week, a meditation on loss and aging in a fantasy setting. "Meditation" definitely feels like the right word here, as cliche as it is. The stakes are pretty low, and not a lot really *happens.* The characters are very, very strong. That being said, I do wish there was more going on here, even if it came in the form of conversational conflict between Moya and Sunder. Still, it's strong. Nae I precritted this, so I'll keep it short. The changes you made from draft to story (particularly fleshing out the culture of the tree people) are unilaterally good. TD stories are usually 100% leftist/environmentalist/anti-capitalist, so I really appreciate that the more modern tree people are deeply human. QPQ Also precritted this, what can I say, I love crittin. Anyways you mentioned you were worried about the worldbuilding not being strong enough, but who cares, you wrote a cartoon, and I don't need a Silmarillion to explain the backstory of a cartoon. Your stock characters work well here, and humor is just light enough to make the darkness palatable. Chernobyl Princess This fucks. I think *some* of the action gets lost in the choreography, but that's to be expected in a story with so much action choreography. I appreciate how badass this ends up being. My Shark Waifu Wasnt big on this one. The opening is too slow, and I strongly believe the flash format needs to be on its feet right away. It also feels a little over-explained, particularly in the description of Sahar's device. Ned being so central to the proceedings right at the end feels unearned. GrandmaParty I dont want to make any judgements, but this feels a tad...racist? I don't think that's the right word, but like, okay, a cop whos a member of the Normal Race goes to a bar thats run by a member of the Normal Race but is frequented by members of the Weird Other Race. One of the Weird Other Race has died, and Normal Race Cop's solution isnt to get to the bottom of the death and help the people of the Weird Other Race but to scare off the Weird Other Race with violence, and also the Weird Other Race doesn't tip? Your party grandma is fun in a way thats super believable and fun, just, am I wrong here that something feels off? CaligulaKangaroo I'm *really* not into this, to the point where if I were judging, i'd pick this as the loss. It's dense, both in lore and verbiage, and while I guess this is a worldbuilding week, the worldbuilding seems to take precedence over telling an actual story. There are formatting errors: misplaced semicolons, missed hyphens, and overuse of artfully incomplete sentences. There are way too many things to keep track of in a story this short, and the characters revolve around the conflict, rather than the conflict around the characters. When you're given 1200 words, give your story a scope that fits into 1200 words. Idle Amalgam This is another story that feels subservient to its own Lore. It's just two characters explaining the Lore to each other, and its Lore is so heady and strange that it's just too easy to get lost in. The characters are distinct, and the ending is strong, but overall I thought this was a weaker entry. More action, less dialogue please. Thranguy There's a *lot* here and it doesnt seem to fit together? The protagonist is a witch that steals youth, her ex-abusive-husband can is a dragon, her house can rearrange itself at whim...and all of those things end up feeling like they're from different universes. What's the central idea, and how does *that* lend itself to the themes? I can't pinpoint the focus of the story, which robs the final scene of its impact. There's a hat on a hat on a hat on a hat. This seems like the sort of story where the smart reader should be able to work out the twist and the dumb one should realize the twist was obvious in hindsight. I'm being too mean, it's still written well and everything. Just, this is a mystery with a thousand red herrings and fewer actual clues. Noah Huh. Hmmm… yay? Nah. This is a dense story with a lot of ideas, and the ideas are mostly good. It's a bit, I dunno, obvious? at times, its philosophizing getting in the way of the story at times. It also aims toward a somber tone that it never quite attains. The ambition of this story is *so close* to being justified by the prose itself, but ultimately it feels weighty for the sake of weightiness. As though it's imitating a lofty style without understanding it quite well enough to pull it off itself. "Retinue" is too SAT of a word to be used twice in two sentences. Tyrannosaurus Oh gently caress, I love this! Action right from the start; it isnt trying to unload a bunch of lore on us, but we get a bunch of cool lore anyways. The jokes land, I especially like "I thought you were a male looking to gently caress." The visual of this guy begrudgingly and annoyed, smashing all these dudes' heads with rocks is transcendant. A loving plus, best story of the week. Antivehicular Wasnt super sure about this at the beginning, the monologue nature of it seemed a little forced. But then you went on, and I was hooked. I liked the empathy formed for the character getting talked to. An instinctual killer, essentially a monster, but we're still cheering for him to live by the end. And the theme of whether it is better to be born great or claw one's way to greatness is suburb and nuanced. This is going to have me thinking for a while. The Man Called M Your best stories have the air of the ugliest dude in the bar acting so suave and smooth that he becomes hot through charisma alone. Less polished than the crowd but with such big dick energy that you have to love it. This isn't one of those stories. There's so much plot here that it reads more like a Wikipedia summary of a story than a story. Focus on one event so there's enough room for characters and emotions and themes to breathe. Gramattical/tense errors abound, and just learning to clean these up will go a long way. If you go into a cheese shop the password to gain entry into the secret assassins' lair should be, "can I have three wheels of the smoked [made up country]ian gouda, please" not "slightly reworded name of the assassin's guild." That's like going into a hat store and saying, "I'm told your business is a drug front, please take me to the cocaine, I would like to purchase some in order to get illegally high, ya know, like a crime."
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Jan 25, 2022 18:28
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In. I know theyre not specified in the prompt, but any chance I can get a flash, just to get these gears turning?
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Jan 26, 2022 01:51
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In
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Jan 31, 2022 20:50
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Pic me
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Jan 31, 2022 23:48
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Becker 1385 words Archive Albatrossy_Rodent fucked around with this message at 05:33 on Jan 8, 2023 |
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Feb 6, 2022 22:42
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In.
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Feb 9, 2022 05:37
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https://ibb.co/c6LJfmb (couldn't get the bbcode to work) This is Fake Zelda. I am writing about Fake Midna, but I can't find Fake Midna, she's probably somewhere in the big storage room. Fake Midna looks exactly like Fake Zelda except she's gold, has had her nose chewed off, and is covered in soot. https://ibb.co/RyWLQJg That's the exact stuffie Fake Midna is, just without the wear and tear and fire. Edit:  fake midna top right, real midna center.
Albatrossy_Rodent fucked around with this message at 04:52 on Feb 11, 2022 |
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Feb 10, 2022 02:03
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Albatrossy_Rodent posted:https://ibb.co/c6LJfmb (couldn't get the bbcode to work) Fake Midna in the Forgotten Forest 880 words Fake Midna emerged with a zoomy leap from the silvery-green mist and yipped, "Hi, Mr. Mushroom! Do you want to play?" She was a stuffed pomeranian; her red-gold fur was thick with soot, and her button nose had long since been chewed off. "Bah! This is no time for silly games," said Mr. Mushroom. "Not after the news of the bullfrogs' school board elections. Truly the state of affairs in the Forgotten Forest is going south," said Mr. Mushroom. Fake Midna saw no reason that any time shouldn't be one for silly games, but Mr. Mushroom looked very grumpy, so she let him be and went looking for other friends to play with. No one she talked to was in the mood for playing; the craggy trees' limbs were too stiff and sore, the snakes hid as she approached, and the crows were too busy with gossip to pay her any attention. In the back of her mind, Fake Midna knew she had come to the wood to find her best friend, but she had forgotten who she had come to find, or how she had made her way to the forest to begin with. A little girl covered in a big white bedsheet skulked along the deer trail. Fake Midna burst through the thorny underbrush to greet her. "Hi!" said the little toy dog. "Do you want to play?" The little girl peered down at Fake Midna through the cut-out holes in her sheet. "You look familiar. What's your name?" "I'm Fake Midna! Let's play!" "Fake Midna? That's a peculiar name. Is there a Real Midna?" Fake Midna ran in circles around the little girl as she thought. Then, in a flash of remembrance, she barked, "Oh yes! Midna!" she exclaimed. "She's my best friend! I came here to find her!" A stump let out a frustrated groan as the little girl sat on him. "Midna...I know that name. Can you tell me about your friend?" "Of course!" said Fake Midna. "We used to play every single day. She looked just like me. We would have big battles, and one time she got so excited she chewed my nose off!" The little girl brought her hand to her chin. "Yes, her name was Midna. I came here to find her too. Do you know where she is?" Fake Midna sat down. "Well, she told me where she would be, but I don't remember. 'Meet me at…' meet me at where?" "Yes, she told me, too. Where was it?" said the girl. Fake Midna leapt onto her lap, and the little girl pet her as she thought. The feeling of the girl's burn-scarred hands on Fake Midna's ashy fur was soothing and familiar. "I know you," said Fake Midna. "But you aren't a little girl. You're a grown-up." "I suppose you're right," said the woman. Suddenly Fake Midna jumped off her lap and hopped in the air. "Katrina! You're Katrina! You're my friend! Oh boy, it's so good to see you! Let's play!" "Yes, that was my name, wasn't it?" said Katrina, but like everyone else in the foggy woods, she seemed in no mood for games. Tearstains formed on the sheet just below her eyes. "What's wrong, Katrina?" said Fake Midna. "I know you love to play." "It's good to see you, too, Fake Midna," said Katrina. "But you're not who I came here to find." "Right…" said Fake Midna. "I hope Real Midna isn't out there all alone and scared. But know what? Midna was always so good at playing, I bet even grumpy Mr. Mushroom would play with her." Katrina let out a laugh through her tears. "Yeah, you're right. She isn't scared. To her, this is just a forest full of friends." "Wait!" said Fake Midna. "I think I remember something. What did the little bag say on it, the one she stayed in after the day with all the smoke?" "Meet me at…" Katrina began before Fake Midna joined in. "...the Rainbow Bridge." They looked around. The gloomy forest did not look like the place for a Rainbow Bridge. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear," said Mr. Mushroom. "I have a cousin who lives over by the Rainbow Bridge." "What?" said Fake Midna. "That's fantastic! Can you please tell us where it is?" "Well, um, it's that way, a long, long way off. To get there you have to go through the darkest, scariest part of the forest, the place with all the giant spiders and whatnot." "Spiders?" said Fake Midna. "I love spiders. They're my friends!" "And now that I think of it," continued Mr. Mushroom. "There was a little dog that passed by a while back asking for directions, too. She asked me to play, and, well, she was too cute to resist. drat near chewed off my cap." "Thank you so much, Mr. Mushroom!" said Fake Midna. "I knew you were going to be a friend!" "I don't know," said Katrina. "I'm scared of spiders." "Well then any time you're scared, we'll play a game until you're not scared anymore," said Fake Midna. She could tell Katrina was smiling underneath the sheet. "That'll work," Katrina said, and the two old friends made their way deeper into the wood.
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Feb 14, 2022 06:21
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In with Some of the full-bodied popes are a million times bigger than us. They open their mouths at regular intervals. They are continually grinding up pieces of the cross and spitting them out. Black flies cling to their lips.
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Feb 16, 2022 18:43
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Reading and audio crit for Alco-Pop by Sebmojo: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1AMjls6CKlJQL7A1flclzSPsagto4Xhh3/view?usp=drivesdk
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Feb 17, 2022 05:42
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And one for Chernobyl Princess! https://drive.google.com/file/d/1AknFUlONlpQ6_TltTVN5dW03p3PM0t5N/view?usp=drivesdk
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Feb 17, 2022 06:13
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Jesus in the Wilderness 888 words My Lord and Savior, did they teach you the Rule of Three at Nazareth Elementary? That you can live three weeks without food, three days without water, and three minutes without air? I don't know how true the truism is; I have not read any scientific papers on the subject, nor have I gone more than a day without food or more than a few hours without water or more than maybe a minute without air, surely during a breath-holding contest. I do not necessarily think it a fact that if you begin your fast on a Tuesday that you will die three Tuesdays later. But I do guess that if you go more than a day, maybe two, without food, that every day you fast after that point will be consumed by thoughts of consumption. Jesus, oh Jesus, my King, your plan is to spend forty days and forty nights in the desert without eating or drinking. Now, you are the Son of God, so maybe your Godly body pushes mortal boundaries, and maybe you can live near twice the duration that the Rule of Three dictates with regards to food. I do think, however, that you should strongly consider fudging the rules when it comes to drinking. I don't know about Aramaic or New Testament Greek, but in English, "drink" can indicate both the consumption of any liquid or the specific imbibing of alcoholic beverages. If you want to go forty days without drinking, perhaps use that English sub-definition of "drink" and stay sober for those almost-six weeks. If depriving yourself of water is necessary to summon the specific experience of spiritual horror you are seeking, then deprive yourself of water within reason. Thank God that the rules don't specify anything about depriving yourself of oxygen. My Lord, my Lord, hallelujah my Lord, how long will you be starving yourself before you start to see the ghosts? They will start, I imagine, with the ordinary ghosts of the Galilean desert, the centurions who died of thirst on the dry, dusty roads, the sheep-herders devoured by hyenas, the stray children with vulture-picked skeletons. When will the ghosts of the past emerge, as the ghost of David watches madly night after night from the ghost of that old Jerusalem tower for the ghost of Bathsheba to lift up the ghost of her leg over the surface of the water to shave it clean as Uriah's ghost, the ghostiest ghost of all the ghosts, lives out again and again the day he became a ghost? Then I imagine you will see the ghosts of your future, the lashings, the thorns, the cross. The Judas who died hanging from a tree and the Judas who died with his bowels expelled onto the field. And then, my God! I imagine you will see the ghosts of all futures: Anne Frank will be holding hands with Matthew Shepard with Emmett Till standing between them with his hands on both their shoulders and for sure your Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. will be there, and maybe just maybe Malcolm X too hanging out by the Wounded Knee tipis, and will you see the color in all their translucent skin, you historically accurate Brown Jesus, as they are begging you to eat, to pick up Satan's stone-bread and devour it, to end fast the story that will lead you to the cross? What will guide you onward amongst all these folks who lived through their apocalypses until they didn't, what will make you keep going when you see the knee on George's neck, and when these people demand you not make a name that they will die for, to not build a holiness and purity their killers will murder for, what is it that will demand your NO! and bring you to Satan, to deny his infinite kingdoms and more importantly his bread, knowing the future that will come? The ghosts of everyone will be there in that desert soon enough, I imagine, when the makers of the End wear the fatal cross like Caesar wears his jewels, when the money it was all for bears the words IN GOD WE TRUST, when the seven-headed beast and the Whore of Babylon and the horsemen are riding through town tattooing six six six on everybody and hissing that it's all in your name. When the ghosts of those millions you will never meet from lands you will never imagine find their way to that desert, to that pitiful starving dirty God-borne husk of a man, when they all scream NO, and all you have to do to end it is eat that rock, that softest buttieriest loaf you ever might taste when all you've known for the past thirty-eight days is hunger. You poor man, if you can hear my prayers, trapped on endless hills of dry Galilee shrubbery, I will not tell you not to eat that bread. If at the end of all this, you decide maybe it's best to sit and snack with the devil beside you, I will not blame you. To hell with those that would. Yeshua ben-Yusef, remember to eat a good full meal before you go. Give yourself a little food baby, a little fat to be whittled away. Amen.
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Feb 20, 2022 22:26
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In, give me something goofy and hyperspecific.
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Feb 22, 2022 17:06
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Fettucine, pasta me.
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Mar 15, 2022 20:39
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Weird Nutmeg 1453 words Archive Albatrossy_Rodent fucked around with this message at 05:28 on Jan 8, 2023 |
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Mar 21, 2022 05:26
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Week 503 or whatever: The words equivalent of this youtube video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-w-58hQ9dLk Two rules: 1. Your story must take place in the present or near future. No time travel is allowed. 2. There must be dinosaurs. 1500 words. For an additional 300 words, you must include a phenomenally stupid snippet, verbatim, of my dumb writing (+ however many words are in the snippet). Another 200 words for submitting before noon CST on Sunday. Contestants: Chairchucker - Bad Mitzvah Chernobyl Princess - basketball Bracchiosaurus Thranguy - dilophosaurus Nae - Titanic quartet Rhino - Tim the Tool Man Taylor M - God creates dinosaur ZearothK - Rapping Deinonychus Tyrannosaurus Judges: Gooooooo nuuuuuuts! Albatrossy_Rodent fucked around with this message at 16:40 on Mar 22, 2022 |
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Mar 22, 2022 02:59
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Chairchucker posted:Snippet me "Looks like this Bat Mitzvah just became a Bad Mitzvah!" said Rabbi Kowarski, pumping his shotgun.
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Mar 22, 2022 03:04
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Chernobyl Princess posted:In, please give me some of your words "There ain't no rule in the rulebook that says a Brachiosaurus can't play basketball," said the old janitor.
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Mar 22, 2022 03:08
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Thranguy posted:In, snippet. "Actually, dilophosaurus spitting poison is an invention of the Jurassic Park movies," said Professor Gooberson as the dilophosauruses started spitting poison at him.
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Mar 22, 2022 03:15
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Nae posted:poo poo, I love that video. I'm IN, give me a snippet. "Should I remind you that the string quartet on the Titanic kept playing as the ship sank. I would think no less of you."
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Mar 22, 2022 03:16
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The Saddest Rhino posted:ok i'll take a snippet "Hi! I'm Tim 'the Tool Man' Taylor, host of the popular home improvement show Tool Time. Oh no! A dinosaur!" said Tim.
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Mar 22, 2022 03:24
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The man called M posted:This sounds extremely dumb. "God creates dinosaur. God destroys dinosaur. God creates man. Man creates dinosaur. Dinosaur Eats Man. Woman inherits the Earth. Dinosaur also eats woman. Dinosaur creates robot. Robot incinerates dinosaur. God accepts robot as his equal in heaven," said Bob. It was impressive that he managed to get so much out as the compsognathuses devoured his digestive system.
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Mar 22, 2022 05:35
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ZearothK posted:In with a snippet. "We need to train harder," I said. "Rapping Deinonychus isn't going to go easy on us in round two." Albatrossy_Rodent fucked around with this message at 16:40 on Mar 22, 2022 |
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Mar 22, 2022 14:37
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Tyrannosaurus posted:In. Ask for your own (or don't and write what you want), but I'll allow trades if they're announced in-thread.
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Mar 22, 2022 16:33
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Sign ups closed, but if you didnt sign up and want to write a story anyways, go for it. Still looking for judges.
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Mar 25, 2022 16:23
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Subs due midnight CST, but leeway will be liberal.
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Mar 25, 2022 17:45
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503 Results Wasn't a huge fan of this week. Stories either had not enough dinosaurs, too many dinosaurs, or just the right number of dinosaurs but were told badly. You guys are worse at writing stories than that one guy is at playing melodica. The loss goes to The Man Called M. That's not a story, M, that's just a series of increasingly wild stuff that happens. A DM to the saddest rhino. There's imagination and fun here, but not enough to overcome its tense and flow issues. HM to Chernobyl Princess. We actually agreed that this was the best story of the week, but I can't award the Dinosaur Week win to a dinosaurless story, sorry. HM to Tyrannosaurus mostly for that rap. Win to Nae who did the best job writing a real story that was actually about dinosaurs. Way to go! Proooooompt!
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Mar 28, 2022 21:13
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Crits Nae - A Fight to Remember Plot: two young girls deal with their parents' collapsing marriage. They resolve to run away, escaping on their dad's midlife-crisis dinosaur. Takes: the emotional throughline is good, and I'm partial to suburban ennui stories. Know what I wish there was more of? Dinosaurs. Nothing in this story would substantially change if the midlife crisis present the dad had bought himself was a boat. What if the dinosaur, by virtue of being a wild animal humans still have little understanding of, did something specific to catalyze Autumn's decision to leave other than just looking kind of sad? Regarding your use of the snippet, i'm a little confused. It's something autumn says to convince Dizzy to leave, but isn't staying on the Titanic NOT running away? Isn't the parents' marriage the sinking ship. Is it supposed to be sarcastic? I appreciate that you used the silly snippet as an emotional line, though (even if you had the least dumb snippet of the whole week). Tyrannosaurus - Idolize Plot: a teenager ends up in a rap battle with Rhymnonychus, a famous rapper who is also a dinosaur. Rhymnonychus helps the teenager with some rap tips, and is gracious in victory. Takes: I like this, but it also suffers from "how would this story change if this dinosaur wasn't a dinosaur?" Like, if this famous rapper was just like, a guy, would literally anything change except for some of the fun disses in the protagonist's (excellent) rap? There's no explanation as to why Rhymnonychus is a dinosaur, but know what? Sure. Just wish he had done some dinosaur stuff. Maybe he can make a makeshift beat by hitting his big toe claw on the ground? I don't know. Not enough dinosaur. Chernobyl Princess - Sadbrains Plot: A mother has a bad day of anxiety and guilt with her young son. She missed her day's pills, and realizes a perfectly pleasant day was made miserable by mental illness. Takes: okay, let's get this out of the way first: I do not believe that a child having dinosaur toys counts as a story with dinosaurs. Making a realistic slice-of-life drama with this prompt is a cop-out and you know it. Other than that, it's I dunno, a very good story? I don't think I'm gonna nominate it for the win, maybe the other judge can argue it up to an HM (I wanted dinosaur stories, drat it!) There's not really a point here, but that works well considering the fog that the protagonist is moving through. Maybe age up the kid from three to four or five? He's a well-done kid when you're going for realism, but a three-year old is a toddler and the kid you've written is distinctly a *child.* M - I Love My Dinosaur Son Plot: Um, uh, a bunch of crazy stuff happens. Takes: go, read the prompt again. Look at what I specifically prohibited, then read your story again. Did I say no time travel? Yes. Does your story include time travel? Also yes. Look, I invited ridiculousness here, but you need to focus the insanity. I love insane stories, but they still need characters, twists, and themes. Tell me, what kind of guy is your protagonist? I can't tell. Seems like, uh, just sort of a guy. He's the kind of guy who sees a bunch of dinosaurs eating his friend, and his response is to go up to the dinosaurs and *calmly ask them what's going on.* Wouldn't a normal person go "Oh no Jesus christ they're eating Bob!" and then run away? There are a thousand ideas here, pick one so that it doesn't feel like the wikipedia Plot summary. Start your next story with a character doing or saying something interesting instead of an explanation of the premise. Speaking of your premise, what is it? We've got: A couple has to raise a velociraptor as a son. Maybe show us this whole story! That sounds like it could be a fun story, taking Kyle to the zoo buy Kyle wants to eat all the zebras or something, and the whole story is about that one trip to the zoo. Could be great! An army unit of sentient dinosaurs. Maybe show us this whole story! Show us a whole story about the Raptor Brigade doing a raid on a black-market weapon dealer's compound. Could be great! A war between dinosaurs and robots. This speaks for itself. A dino/robot war story could be great! There are good stories in here, and you choose to tell none of them. But they're all in here, and none get to breathe, and also there's time travel and this whole thing about Biden giving scientists money and this bit about Kyle eating death row people, and it's under a thousand words… Give the story some space to breathe, let characters be characters, don't just throw poo poo at the wall. Didn't see any tense or grammar issues. The Saddest Rhino - Home Improvement Will No Longer Be Renewed After 8 Seasons, TV Guide Reports Plot: scientists trying to get funding for their dinosaur resurrection project by doing some propaganda on an episode of Home Improvement, but their dinosaur eats Tim Allen's finger. Takes: There are some basic competency issues here. There are tense issues, and when you went into flashback it wasn't immediately clear. Proofread better. I liked the premise and the level of imagination. I like the way you turned all the fictional dinosaurs of the 90s into actual dinosaurs, but they just can't stop eating people. There's a lot of fun worldbuilding. The protagonists do nothing. They sit and watch a live taping of Home Improvement. Thranguy - Stanley Kubrick yadayadayada Plot: some people are on the island where Jurassic Park was shot, which actually has real dinosaurs. One guy gets eaten, one lady escapes, our narrator has to live on the island for years before his eventual rescue. Takes: The first half works a lot better than the second, which devolves into a lot of summary. I like the idea that the dinosaurs all work by Jurassic Park rules, and this should have been incorporated into the action more. I really like the idea of realizing that dinosaurs' vision is indeed based on movement, but that should have been a scene rather than summary. The story works with standard first-person narration, but then it's revealed that he's been talking to someone this whole time? That could've been pulled off better. Chairchucker - Some Corny Rabbi Joke Plot: a young woman and an orthodox rabbi fight off dinosaurs at a Bat Mitzvah. Know what? I kinda like this! The jokes all land, especially the wannabe comedian rabbi bit. There's actually action that mostly kicks rear end. I wish you'd just googled one dinosaur species that they're fighting, but eh, can't complain. Your research went into Jew stuff, and it works. Not gonna demand this win or anything, but I wanted silly dinosaur action and I got silly dinosaur action.
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Mar 28, 2022 22:09
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In
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Mar 29, 2022 02:57
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Apr 9, 2022 04:56
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May 3, 2022 23:58
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Prompt: I'm in my elementary school gym but everything is made of brick. The walls are brick. The floors are brick. The basketball hoops are brick. The gymnast matts are brick. It's dodgeball day but the throwers are teachers armed with paintball guns and the paintball guns shoot acid balls that when they hit you, make you burn and blister. I'm not in elementary school so I don't have to participate but then I see my daughter (irl I don't have children) is next in line to go. She has long black hair like my irl girlfriend at the time. She's crying and scared. I tell the coach that she's not going to do this and we argue but eventually he says that if she doesn't then she'll be executed. I ask if I can do it for her and he tells me I can do it with her. She's now the size of a crow and she perches on my forearm. The gym is a brick obstacle course and the teacher with their guns are on various platforms through the maze. I carry my daughter, perched on my arm, through the gym. I protect her. I manage to dodge every shot until I get to the end which is wide open. I cover my daughter with my body and run. I'm shot between the eyes. My face burns and I'm blinded but we cross the finish line. My girlfriend sees me and in the most heartbreakingly cruel voice says, "Ugh. What did you do to your face?" Interpretation: hoo boy. This is a dream about childhood trauma. Not capital-T trauma, but like, the sort of common trauma that shapes most of us in childhood. Not being cool enough, not being smart enough, being a kid with big feelings that you can't express because you're a kid (kids are very very dumb). This feeling of inadequacy carries with you to adulthood. That's why the villains are gym teachers, since the ultimate sign of coolness in 90s/00s schooling is athleticism, the coolest kid gets the blue ribbons on track and field day and comes first in the mile run. And the people putting the most pressure to be that kind of cool are gym teachers. The tiny fake daughter isn't a daughter, the daughter is you. You're protecting yourself from the pain you went through as a kid, or wishing you could have been protected. This is why the dream ends on cruel mockery, being made fun of is the real acid paintballs. Your gymnasium is brick because it's a prison, the prison of memory. Actual story time! Gaby Baby 1380 words We’re in the bathroom changing out of our swimsuits after the water balloon fight on the playground and I can’t find my underwear so I’m looking everywhere for them. Chris K and his friends are sitting on the bench and laughing. Then someone starts talking to me inside my head. “Hi Gabe. Don’t speak. You can think and I’ll hear you.” What? “Yep, just like that. I’m trying to do a lot of things here at once, so stay with me. Do you know what time travel is?” Mom told me a bedtime story about me and my big brother building a time machine and having a picnic with dinosaurs. “Cool. Are you still into dinosaurs? I thought you were in your Batman phase by now.” I liked dinosaurs when I was in preschool, but in kindergarten I liked Batman instead, but now that it’s summertime I like dinosaurs again. “I’m you from like thirty years in the future. Gabe, I’m Gabriel. What you do in this moment will affect the rest of your life, so do exactly as I say.” Chris K stands up and says, “Gabe, I think you’re going to need Miss Sandy to come help find your underwear." “Whatever you do, don’t go out and ask Miss Sandy to come help find your underwear,” says Gabriel, the voice. But I need help and I’m supposed to talk to a grown-up when I need help. “Sandy's not even a grown-up, she's like sixteen.” I’m not supposed to trust strangers. I’m going to go ask Miss Sandy for help. “You didn’t lose your underwear, man. Chris stole them. They’re in his backpack.” Why would he do that? That’s mean! “Yes, but it’s also normal. He's had the very normal realization that you walking naked into the hallway to ask Miss Sandy to find your underwear is funny. And I’m not gonna lie to you, it totally is, that poor teenager having to see your tiny baby penis. But you haven’t realized that yet, have you? You don’t get the joke. For the rest of your life, everyone in your grade is going to get the joke like two years before you do. And that makes your emotions the perfect punchline.” What’s a punchline? “What are you doing just standing there?” says Chris K. “Go get Miss Sandy to find your underwear so we can go to snacktime.” “Listen to me, Gabe. If you go out there, you will know you were embarrassed, and you will not still not get the joke, but you will learn, deep down in your bones, that being naked is embarrassing. So you will do whatever you can to never be naked around other people again. You’ll change into your swimsuit in the stalls. You’ll skip showers after gym in high school, and go around smelling like poo poo the entire day, sweating through your T-shirt. You’ll want to keep your pants on during sex with your college girlfriend, just letting it out through the zipper. All of these things will be embarrassing again in turn, and the shame will branch out into every other part of your life, and for all these things, you’re still not going to get the joke.” Sex is a bad word. “Just go put on your shorts, man,” says Gabriel. I’m not supposed to wear pants without underwear. “What? Seriously, man? The rule about putting your pants on without underwear is way less important than the rule about going out in the hall naked. Okay, what if you go grab Chris’ backpack?” The backpack is on the bench where Chris K was sitting. I reach for the strap but Chris K scoops the backpack up and holds it up in the air. “Hey! That’s my backpack! You’re trying to steal my backpack! I’m so nice to you and you try to steal my backpack?” says Chris K. “I thought we were friends!” I’m getting really mad now and I’m starting to cry. “Give up,” says Gabriel. "The backpack plan's a bust, just go put on your–” “Miss Sandy!” I yell, running out into the hallway. “NO! NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” shouts Gabriel. “Get back into that bathroom!” “Chris K stole my underwear and he isn’t giving it back!” I yell. Miss Sandy and all the girls in the summer school class are there. Lots of the girls are laughing. Miss Sandy shields her eyes. “Okay, Gabe. Uh, go ask for them back,” says Miss Sandy. Chris K and his buddies are standing by the doorway to the bathroom, blocking me from getting back in. “Look, everybody!” says Chris K, laughing hard. “Gaby Baby’s naky!” “Okay, that was a total failure,” says Gabriel. “Listen, there’s something elase I wanted to do while I had the time machine. Can you remember some names for me? Okay, Khalid al-Mihdhar…” “...Gaby Baby Naky! Gaby Baby Naky! Gaby Baby…” Why isn’t Miss Sandy helping? Why is she just standing there with her hands over her eyes? Chris K is being mean to me and everybody’s laughing at me and it’s too much… “....Mohamed Atta, Ziad Jarrah…” “...oh my god Gabe, go back into the bathroom and put your clothes on, they don't pay me enough for this…” …and I’m crying and I’m naked oh no I shouldn’t be naked I should never be naked I’m never going to be naked again… “...Gaby Baby Naky! Gaby Baby…” “...Hani Hanjour…” Gabriel was right. I’m going to be embarrassed for the rest of my life. This is never going to end. “...to the CIA by August of 2001 but preferably a year earlier–come on man, are you even listening to me? This is important, you gotta focus…” I turn towards the door, and Chris K is still standing there, pointing and howling. I scream and run at him and I’ve never been good at fighting but I tackle him and I’m hitting him and I’m scratching him and biting him and his arms are trapped by his backpack straps and he can’t lift his arms to fight back and now who’s screaming and crying, now who’s embarrassed? And Miss Sandy isn’t running in to stop me, she’s still just looking away. “Oh, oh man. Okay. This is happening,” says Gabriel. “Calm down man, you made your point.” But I just keep on hitting. … I’m sitting on my bed at home. I’m not allowed to leave my room and I can’t play with any of my toys. I’m wearing my shorts with no underwear. Mom and Dad are really mad at me. “Yeah,” says Gabriel. “Don’t worry about it too much. You’re allowed to get in trouble when you’re a kid, might as well do it. It’ll be better tomorrow.” What happens now? “I don’t know, man. When I went through that, without future-me, I just stood in the hallway for like ten minutes until Chris got bored and gave me my underwear back. This is a new future. Make it a good one for me. Don’t be ashamed. No one’s going to remember it but you.” Chris K will remember it. “Yeah, he’ll remember getting beat up. I doubt he’ll remember stealing your underwear for more than like a year.” Are you going to be staying with me forever? “No, this version of me is gonna get erased from the timeline soon. At least that’s what I think happens, first time time traveling and all. Anyways, can I give you some parting advice?” Yeah. “Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t be ashamed. You’re a weird kid, you’re gonna do weird stuff, but the weirdness is what your real friends are going to love about you. Be weird, and be okay with being the butt of the joke sometimes, because the funniest jokes need a butt.” Hehehe. Butt. “Hahaha, yeah. Butt. Well poo poo, I’m fading like the photos in Back to the Future. Gotta go. Take care.” Don’t swear. “Oh, gently caress off.” And with that he’s gone, and Mom knocks on the door to bring me my supper.
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May 8, 2022 18:20
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Crit chain crits Uranium Phoenix I don't particularly like the way this is onboarded. I think a lot of this information would be better presented in flashback and we open with Senya already in Gavin's brain. Maybe they have a conversation about it? I don't know. This is too many words before characters start doing interesting things, though. It picks up nicely once the premise is established. Normally this kind of capitalist dystopian worldbuilding irks me and feels preachy and cliched, but I think the misery is subtle enough to actually work. This isn't The Apocalypse, it's just a slow cascade into miserable doom. I particularly like the Autocar disentanglement app, that feels like something that will exist pretty soon. The way Gavin makes excuses feels true. Like I would totally do that in his situation. Cut of Your Jib Yes. I am indeed down for an old lady biker gang story. Dope. Cut the first scene. I don't care that before she was an old lady biker gangster, she was an old lady not-biker gangster. Yes, her more mundane past should be alluded to, but seeing her be boring is boring. I think the paragraphs are mostly too long. I found myself skipping to the next one too often halfway through. This should not be an issue in such an action-focused story. I think you could cut some scenes. I don't need all of the biker gang context. Love the 50s Rumble Gangs vibe though.
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May 9, 2022 20:26
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In, pic.
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May 11, 2022 20:14
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