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  1. #41


    What I've posted here is all I've got... it was meant to be a snippet of a romance for toonia, one of our senior members (hence Genevieve Praetoonja-Stilwell, whose father was connected to the Dutch East India Company).

    I typed these pieces in about a half an hour each. That's the way my mind works when the Ne and the Ti are firing on all cylinders.

  2. #42
    Starcrossed Seafarer Aquarelle's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2010


    Quote Originally Posted by oberon View Post
    What I've posted here is all I've got... it was meant to be a snippet of a romance for toonia, one of our senior members (hence Genevieve Praetoonja-Stilwell, whose father was connected to the Dutch East India Company).

    I typed these pieces in about a half an hour each. That's the way my mind works when the Ne and the Ti are firing on all cylinders.
    Ha, cool.
    Masquerading as a normal person day after day is exhausting.

    My blog:
    TypeC: Adventures of an Introvert

  3. #43
    Senior Member Accept's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2008


    Quote Originally Posted by Lady X View Post
    if you have a blog somewhere
    Nothing like a blog, but I did overlook something I began from another writer's challenge. The story starts with a mini-tale for each character, and all of them are short enough. This was the first:

    In the twelfth year of living, Tasia, a newly appointed Lady of the Lake, is walking alone, exploring her new home on the island of Avalon. The year is 488 A.D.


    The night had grown colder as the heat of the fire faded. Several times Tasia had woken long enough to wrap herself tightly in her cloak, seeking whatever warmth it might offer. Then she would drift back into a fitful slumber, her dreams strange and disturbing -

    Standing on an open plain, she knew however far she might walk, it would only lead to empty horizons and yet, she wasn't alone. There were others waiting for her. Unusual people from a strange land, where odd forms of magic were common place, yet they were also lost, no more a part of this place than she. In gathering they were waiting for something they, as yet, were unable to understand.
    She knew she would be out of place among them, yet also knew they needed her. Without understanding their ways, she was to become a necessary element of their survival. Wanting to know more, she tried to focus the facial features of separate identities, yet each remained a mystery, their faces blurring on the edge of vision. She was about to reach out to the one standing close, but as her fingers made contact she withdrew in the sudden realization that they would expect more than she could give.
    And so the return of the dream each time sleep came, always ended in frustration and fear.

    Tasia knew the end of night was approaching, so rather than sleep again, she would rekindle the fire and wait out the remaining time of darkness. Sifting through the top layers of ash, she dug down to the still hot under layer for warmth. Feeling the heat, she laid a clump of dry grass and twigs on the embers, blowing gently until sparks danced in the maze of sticks. After several tries, a small flame began licking at the grass, feeding and growing stronger until it was able to consume the larger pieces. Satisfied with the fire's strength, Tasia placed her remaining wood on top and sat back to warm the chill of sleep.
    As the fire lit the immediate area for a time, eventually the dawn came to light entire landscape, Tasia failing to grasp the significance of the terrain, for although it seemed different than the previous day, she easily passed it off to fatigue.
    Selecting an apple from her cache, she carefully halved it, placing one half back into her stock and slicing the remainder for her morning meal. As she ate, she tried to make order of the discrepancies of the surroundings.
    Failing again to make sense of it, she did admit that she had wandered off the path. It hadn't been well defined, but this morning it no longer existed. Where a trail should be was only knee deep grass, and the small quarry of rocks she knew should be there, was gone. Even the forest, its trees numerous enough to cast shadows along the length of her travel had become the edge of a copse, her path no longer present atop the slope overlooking the fields of grass.
    Tasia finished her apple, allowing herself a sip of water before deciding to continue her journey. Trusting sunlight to begin the day to the east, eventually she would find something to correct her bearings. Confidant in walking south to find the way, she removed her cloak to wrap her possessions, forming a cocoon to carry across her back.
    Then she continued the journey to the destination she could no longer reach. Another Tasia, in another place, would travel across the land and return to the city that shared its name: Avalon. Another Tasia would live her destiny in the world left behind. This Tasia's destiny was forming in a new world she was only beginning to explore.

    Quote Originally Posted by Saint Kat View Post
    No reason you should be, but I am beginning to share the same thought.
    Naked to unknown forces, fortune evades mere understanding. The trial of effort.
    The dream of change. Such a place might Hell be to thought and action.

  4. #44
    Senior Member Idec Sdawkminn's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2010


    Something I started once and haven't worked on since:

    In an imaginary room beyond all imagination, incomprehensible for the human mind to comprehend, there existed an existance existing in this imaginary room beyond all imagination, incomprehensible for the human mind to comprehend. This existance exists as "Fred" and Fred exists as the existance in which the story revolving around the existance existing as "Fred" revolves around.

    Fred stood up and to his amazement, he stood up. Almost by instinct, a voice bellowed from a lady named "Esmerelda" saying, "Sit down." Obediently, Fred stood up and without realizing it, he stood up. Mark and Dorothy ran through the room and knocked over the T.V. Suddenly, Fred stood up and with incredible speed, he stood up! A door flew open and Mark and Dorothy ran through the room and clumsily knocked over the T.V.

    Esmerelda calmly said, "Sit down." Brad carefully picked the T.V. off the table and placed it on the floor. With an empty feeling in his stomach, Fred stood up and with a great sense of belonging, he stood up. Brad quickly picked the T.V. off the wooden table and placed it angrily on the floor.

    Esmerelda shouted at the top of her lungs, "Sit down!" Chasing eachother, Mark and Dorothy glided through the room and unknowingly knocked over the T.V. With a heavy sigh, Fred stood up and looking around the room, he stood up. Out of nowhere, Mark and Dorothy crashed through the room and uncaringly knocked over the T.V. Brad, longing for a friend, gently picked the T.V. off the table and placed it on the carpeted floor. With a great struggle, Fred stood up and knocking over the T.V., he stood up.

    Overcome with anger, Esmerelda whispered, "Sit down." Bobby walked by the window and peered inside at the T.V. An idea popping in his head, Fred stood up and punching the air, he stood up. Laughing wildly, Mark and Dorothy sprinted through the room and with an effort, knocked over the T.V. Coughing uncontrollably, Brad picked the T.V. off the shiny table and sweating, placed it on the floor. Susan, now wiping her mouth, fell to the ground and wiped her mouth.

    Speaking to herself, Esmeralda mouthed, "Sit down." After a long day's work, Fred stood up and seeing his lap disappear, he stood up. Susan, reading a book, fell to the ground and read a book. Bobby walked by the window with his eyes closed and peered inside at the old T.V. With a heavy heart, Brad slowely picked the T.V. off the wobbily table and, with a sigh, placed it on the ground. Hating himself, Fred stood up and wishing he was a better person, he stood up. With a dance in their step, Mark and Dorothy hopped through the room and sticking their tongues out, knocked over the T.V.

    Sounding very tired, Esmerelda lazily said, "Sit down." Mark and Dorothy clumsily stumbed through the room and with precise precision, knocked over the T.V. With a belt in his hand, Fred stood up and with an eager gleam in his eyes, he stood up. Chuck heard the T.V. fall and falling out of his chair, he placed it on the table in the middle of the room.
    "I see you're drinking 1%. Is that because you think you're FAT? 'Cause you're not. You could be drinking whole milk if you wanted to."

    Music listening habits

  5. #45


    Quote Originally Posted by Idec Sdawkminn View Post
    Something I started once and haven't worked on since:
    I don't mean to be a critic... but I don't think I'm really understanding the works that you've posted.

  6. #46
    Klingon Warrior Princess Patches's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2010
    6w5 sp/sx


    I'm pretty sure I don't have any of my old fiction writing saved, and the only thing I've written in the past couple years is a bit too on the adult side for these forums... I should... probably start writing something other than smut, eh?
    “Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside
    them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands maybe.” -Neil Gaiman

  7. #47
    Senior Member Idec Sdawkminn's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2010


    Quote Originally Posted by oberon View Post
    I don't mean to be a critic... but I don't think I'm really understanding the works that you've posted.
    Don't worry about it. That latest one wasn't anything to understand. It was just nonsensical nonsense I did when I was bored. The first one was a part from a longer story. They are both pretty silly and the longer one includes a lot of idea I had when I was a kid. Here's a more serious one:

    All alone, in nothingness. All is dark and empty, and cold. I feel like crying. I hurt, something hurts. As I end my dark sleep, the bright light tortures my eyes. My head is sore, I am all alone. An emptiness in my stomach. I'm shivering, I can't feel anything. Nothing but this constant pain in my stomach and head. Light invades my once dark world, blinding me. I yearn for the darkness; this light hurts my eyes. I close them. The light remains, giving me no comfort. I choke on water, so cold. I stop. I'm not moving. The cold has left me, but is still here. A different cold. The one before was a surrounding cold. This is an emptiness cold. The cold from nothing against you, like sleeping without shelter, even in the warm summer. The light has receded, leaving me in darkness once again.

    The light is here again; so bright. I can feel my body. I feel the wet ground beneath me. I feel the pain in my head and stomach. Why must this light torment me so? Images form before my eyes. White and blue. I lay before an ocean of blue. I'm warm now. So tired. I rise to my feet. Pain returns to me; my head and stomach. The sound of waves fills the air. I want to sleep; I need to. Alone on an empty beach. The wet, warm sand beneath my feet. I am not alone, but I am. Another is here, lifeless, lying in the cold water. A life lost, taken by this sea; the same that has delivered me from death. Memories fill my head: a ship. We're traveling on the ocean. Screams! We're rocking back and forth. The ship has been hit by something! I run below the deck. One of the Tegan slaves is free! People everywhere. Shouting, pushing, running! Nothing. Nothing after that. One of the Tegan slaves lays here, dead. Disgusting Tegans. They should all die! Murderers, thieves, all of them. A sadness dwells within me. Why? Why does the death of one more horrible Tegan grieve me? Why do I feel this sorrow for him? For that thing? I'm alive, that's what matters. As the waves roll in and out, I stand here, watching. Kind, gentle waves. I owe you my life. No food comes forth from these waves, nor the ground on which I stand. I must leave; leave this place of new beginning. All is empty. This world bears no shade. A vast desert stretches from the sand in front of me. The cold water to my back. A long journey through a baren, dry land awaits me.

    I walk through this wasteland, hungry and tired. The calming rhythm of waves fades as I push forward. Morning ages. I fall. Onward I go as my feet grow more painful. I leave my shoes behind, forgotten forever. Step after step in the fire of the sand takes me through this world. The heat pouring from the parched ground and burning sun above me. Will I ever find food? Water? Shade? Shelter? Life? If I die right now, this would be over. No, things will get better. Somewhere...lost in happiness. So many memories, past feelings, I need to get to them; they await me, somewhere.

    Wait, what's that? Do my weary eyes decieve me? No, it's a town! People! Food! Water!
    My burning feet carry me swiftly through the thick heat. Nothing else matters. I feel no pain, only the urge to move forward. There it is, in front of me, taunting me. I must keep going. It's my only hope. Just a little longer; a little more. On and on I walk until I can't bear it any longer. The town approaches too slowely, this can't be right. But now I'm here, and I've drawn the attention of a fit, young man. Hair of golden yellow about his head, and the color of the sea in his eyes. Bold and tough. Dirt stains accent the creases in his white, sleeveless shirt, permitting sharply curved, bare arms to be seen. His legs are covered by a rough, brown hide. He has shifted his position to better hinder my passing. Fight him! Beat his pretty face! The urge to test my strength against his is almost overpowering. No! I don't even know him! He hasn't hurt me in any way. I'm brought rudely out of my thoughts with a sudden interruption. "Stop right there! Just where do you think you are going?" blurts out of him.

    Maybe if you talk nicer I'll answer you. "I just want some food and water!" and maybe a little fight.
    "How can you prove that? How do I know you aren't here to kidnap little Miss Anna?"
    Idiot. "What are you talking about? Can't you see me? Do I look like a kidnapper? I'm thirsty and hungry, and I'm coming from out of the desert!" I won't let this go on for long.
    "Now just one minute here! Don't you be coming here and talking to me in that tone!"
    Just shut up already. "If you don't move out of me way, I will bust that golden head right in before you can call yer mommy!" He does look like he would put up an interesting fight. This would be fun.
    " just one minute here-" Okay, enough. Too much have I suffered through to be rewarded with this. Heeding not the noise of this strapping young lad, a yell escapes my throat and my fist is thrown forward with the force of my body. A crunch. Did I get him? I'm on my knees; my bloody knees. Did I cut them? Where is the pain then? A drop of red falls, adding to the small pool about my legs. My mouth! I...I've been hit? Everything fades, my legs, the blood, the bright sand; it all turns black.

    My eyelids part, letting in no light. I'm here in the blackness of my surroundings. A sharp pain has made itself known to me from my jaw, along with the ever-present gnawing of my stomach. A warmth is around me; warm and soft. Nevertheless, 'tis strange indeed for one to open one's eyes and notice not a change. But wait, a small glimmer has pierced the darkness. A white speck in a sea of black. No, lot's of them. All these years I never noticed the beauty of the stars, twinkling far above us. No sound breaks this silence. What happened? Why had I attacked that boy? That strong, young man. I never was one for fights, but now I want to. I want to kill him. But he's stronger than I am. No, that doesn't matter, I'll beat him if I die trying! I didn't used to feel like this but I like it. Where is he? He thinks he bested me does he? I'll show him not to mess with me! I'm a full-grown man, and have spent many days at sea. I captured tegans...those poor tegans. Why did I do it? Why couldn't we just let them be? Sure they're dangerous, but they don't deserve enslavement, no matter how much I used to hate them. They took my Elluinda though! Memories of depressed nights return to my mind. Her life, taken by those monsters. Though she was unfair to them, the poor! Stop thinking that! What's come over me? Those animals are ruthless, they killed my one true love, and I'm getting them back for it, and no one's going to stop me!

    The warm blankets, brought to me apparently out of kindness and pity are thrown back as I depart from my place of rest. Quickly I rise to my feet and ahh! the pain! My knees give and I fall hard on the cold, wooden floor on my hands. Letting my arms go I'm rolled onto my side, with nothing but the thobbing of my feet to my attention. I bring my foot up for a look, but alas, 'tis too dark for such tasks. My cautious pats reveal more confusion than explanations. My skin; it's hard. My foot can't feel the touch of my groping hand. The pain is under the skin, unreachable. What happened to my feet! In desperation I pull myself toward the light from beneath the door. Thoughts rush through my mind. Are they rotten? Burnt? A sudden fear of discovering the truth shakes through me, but the will to know is stronger. I'm propelled forward with my arms and knees dragging, ever careful not to hit my tender feet against the hard floor below. The dim, blue light draws near. Without warning, a shocking sting is lodged in my right knee. Collapsing from the agony and following my instincts, my eyes instantly fix on the dark emptiness where my leg resides. The hurting so sharp. I can't steady my hands as they carefully feel for the wound. My once descent pants now bear a gash. My fingers run over something hard, and stop. A spike has sliced through the skin, buried into my leg above the knee. My fear of further pain battles the logic of pulling it from me. With a physical effort and a willpower to match, the steak is wrenched from the deep cut in my flesh, freeing the warm fluid to ooze down my leg. Casting aside the giant splinter from the wooden floor, I struggle toward the thin, pale light. All alone in this fight against my weaknesses. The glow is my only goal, my one guide. My empty insides suffer from this slithering motion.

    In time, the door to my escape is nigh. Grasping the knob, I rise to my left knee and turn my hand. Dim light floods my eyes and a breath of cold, salty air fills my lungs. The cool breeze brushes my face, and out of comfort and weariness, my hand is relaxed and releases its grip of the handle, and my body falls against the hard sand. This is the end; the end of this toil. I will go no further while the sky is dark. The blue surroundings disappear from sight.
    "I see you're drinking 1%. Is that because you think you're FAT? 'Cause you're not. You could be drinking whole milk if you wanted to."

    Music listening habits

  8. #48
    mod love baby... Lady_X's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2008
    9w1 sx/so


    yep...lovin this thread much...thanks everybody for posting!!
    There can’t be any large-scale revolution until there’s a personal revolution, on an individual level. It’s got to happen inside first.
    -Jim Morrison

  9. #49


    Here's a recent foray into children's books:

    What the Kickawee Told the Borrigolly

    “Trinkle wankle wiggy wiffy potto relly blebby boo,
    Piggle diggle biffy biggle smiggo liggo plumpafoo!

    Snorrimata, clackawacka! Crammy shammy pampilon!
    Snampitatter challifatter tricka ticka pickaton!

    Sugga lugga mugger bugga diggy wiggy wonka wee,
    Tory bory hemmy lemma fuzzle chuzzle chunka chee.

    Kubba jubba! Tiffy Tubba! Korba lorba lungaray!
    Skuzzalooby! Skundahooby! Skanda banda bungalay!

    Bingo bongo bungo boom, bippy lippy torkalump.
    Pooby looby ponka fooby snickle pickle pucklepump.

    Mishy pishy mashy mushy, horka lemmy hocka hizz!
    Dizza fizza fuzzy buzzy lippy loopy locka lizz!

    Paralunkem! Tizzle tunkem! Fissy foosy fisharee!
    Hoozaballey! Koozamalley! Kissy koosy kishakee!

    Forga loogum, morga moogum, mimba malley masha nax,
    Gooly fooly gilly gully, porga poogum poggy pax.”

    And the Borigolly said “What?”
    This is best said in a grand declamatory style, accompanied by ridiculous facial expressions, while standing in front of your (hopefully) giggling kids.

  10. #50
    The Duchess of Oddity Queen Kat's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2009


    Yesterday a scene I was writing went a bit wrong. The dialogue was way too theatrical, but today during Experimental Psychology class I got the idea to write the things that happened before the main character interfered. That could make the dialogue a bit more natural, I hope. I'm not going to put it in my story, because it's being written from the main character's perspective and she doesn't notice anything of this. That's why I wrote it more in a screenplay kind of way. It's really boring, though. The really interesting part comes after it. (Like I stated before: I write in Dutch and the story takes place in the Netherlands, so I use names that can apply on Dutch people. "Dorus" is an old-fashionned Dutch version of Theodore, "Guido" is a normal name here and very few Dutch people associate it with Jersey Shore, "Wesley" and "Mariska" are just very common names. Don't think Esther needs explanation.)

    Dorus (the main character's butler and sidekick) is being forced by the main character to go on a date with Esther to Esther's ex's wedding. Esther's ex left her when Esther told him she was pregnant and is now getting married to a girl he met in a bar six months ago. Now Esther wants to confront him. Dorus isn't happy with this and is tired of always being the one who has to do the dirty jobs. The wedding is just over and there is a party inside. Dorus and Esther are going outside to smoke. They haven't talked the whole day. Esther observes how Dorus lights up his cigaret.
    Esther: That's the same brand.
    Dorus: What?
    Esther: We're smoking the same brand.
    Dorus: Well, I usually prefer cigars. Or shag.
    Esther: How come you're smoking this now?
    Dorus: Dunno.
    Dorus has an opened bottle of red wine in his hand. Esther looks at it.
    Esther: Didn't you bring glasses?
    Dorus: What?
    Esther: Didn't you bring glasses, you know, for the wine?
    Dorus: No, I prefer to drink it right out of the bottle.
    Esther: Okay. That's strange. Are you good at fighting?
    Dorus: I'm not that much of a fighter, but I have some good trics that might come in handy.
    Esther: What trics?
    Dorus: I'm not telling you. I know you well enough right now to know that you won't like it.
    Esther: Does it involve chainsaws?
    Dorus: No.
    Esther: Then I guess I'm fine with it.
    Dorus: We'll see. So, you and the groom -
    Esther: Wesley, yes.
    Dorus: You didn't break up a long time ago, right?
    Esther: It has been seven months. He met Mariska a month after that and a month later they were engaged.
    Dorus: And you haven't spoken ever since?
    Esther: We haven't seen each other anymore, no.
    Dorus: And you're eight months pregnant?
    Esther: I'm due in two weeks. However, it wouldn't surprise me if I gave birth right now. It would be funny, though. I wonder how Wesley's parents would react. They don't know about this. I'm going to name him Mika, after the pop singer. Wesley hates him.
    Dorus: I have a son too. He's five.
    Esther: Yeah, I heard you were a single parent too. What happened to the mother? You broke up?
    Dorus: She died when our son was three months old. She worked at a pottery factory where they made these very large vases, from I believe fifty centimeters to two and a half meters. Well, for some reason she got stuck in an oven.
    Esther: Ouch!
    Dorus: Ouch indeed. Guess why I never read my son Hansel and Gretel. Not that he knows how it happened. He's too young.
    Wesley comes outside with his brother (Guido). They want to light up a cigaret as well.
    Dorus: Hi Wesley. Congratulations on you wedding!
    Wesley: Err, thanks. Who are you, a relative of Mariska's? She has one large family.
    Dorus: No, I came to bring you someone.
    Esther: Hi Wesley.
    Wesley: What the hell are you doing here?! Fuck off! Get lost before anyone notices you!
    Esther: Well, I had nothing better to do, so I thought "Let's go and bother Wesley".
    Guido: Wait a second, you're pregnant! So, er -
    Esther: Indeed, Wesley did it and he knows it.
    Guido: Why didn't you tell me? You're my brother, man!
    Wesley: I thought the bitch would abort that thing!
    Esther: You knew I wouldn't.
    Mariska and her BFF are coming outside too. Mariska runs to her husband and gives him a kiss.
    Mariska: Hello hubbie! Your mom told me you were outside, so I thought I'd give you some company, but I didn't know you weren't alone. Who are these lovely people.
    Esther shakes Mariska's hand.
    Esther: Hi, I'm Esther, Wesley's ex-girlfriend and this is Dorus.
    Mariska: I've heard so much about you! How nice to meet you! Congratulations on the baby by the way. You're such a lucky man, Dorus.
    Dorus: Oh, I'm not the father. Esther hired me to come to this wedding.
    Guido: Wesley's the father.
    Wesley: GUIDO!
    Mariska: Is this true? Why didn't you tell me?
    Wesley: Mariska, it's complicated. It happened before we met and I thought Esther was going to have an abortion.
    Esther: You knew I wasn't.
    Wesley: So what, not like I'm going to acknowledge the kid?
    Mariska: I can't believe this! I can't believe I just married you! Is this a nightmare or something?!
    Wesley: Esther, I think it's very unfair of you that you just show up and ruin my Mariska's special day like this!
    After this the exciting part starts: Wesley points a gun at Esther's belly to prove his wife that he loves her. Dorus makes some stupid comment about that. The two men get in a fight (not physically, Esther is a bitch, no one would REALLY fight over her). Wesley threatens to kill everyone, Dorus (who happens to be an experienced fire breather) pretends trying to set Wesley on fire with that bottle of wine. Then some dude runs towards Dorus and claims Dorus is Jesus Christ who came to earth to create the kingdom of God. This gives Wesley and his colleagues (Wesley is a policeman) a reason to arrest Dorus: they simply claim Dorus wanted to commit a coup d'état.
    I was sitting outside the classroom waiting to go in, and I saw an airplane hit the tower. The TV was obviously on. I used to fly myself and I said, "There's one terrible pilot."
    - George W. Bush -

    SCUAI - 7w8 sx/sp - Chaotic Evil - Fucking Cute - ALIVE

    Blog. Read it, bitches.
    Questions? Click here
    If you don't agree about my MBTI type, you can complain about it here. I've had plenty of people telling me I'm something else, in my reputation box. That's annoying.

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