Week Two! For anyone who doesn't know, this will thread will contain a week's worth of writing exercises to be completed each day. I'll give out 5 points per regular exercise, 10 points per bonus exercise, and 15 per "super bonus" exercises. You may do as few or as many of the exercises as you want. Anyone is allowed to join up at any time, but please let me know in a PM if you want to be added to our tag and scoring list.
Our goal here: Ultimately, fun, but I very strongly believe that the encouragement of your peers, a little friendly competition, and some light-goal setting combined with consistent practice is an excellent path to becoming a better writer.
ONE IMPORTANT RULE: DO NOT REPLY TO ANY OTHER WRITER'S POST. I will indicate where to reply to post your work and if you want to praise a fellow writer, please do it in the appropriate "feedback thread" that I will be posting later. We don't want writing posts locked here, it isn't fair to people who want to edit later.
Monday! Theme time! This week's theme is "other worldly!"
Pick a character. Now, let's take them out of their comfort zone. First, change genres and then either swap bodies, change species, (if it's an animal, go ahead and change it into a human), change gender, or change occupation. Explain the change itself, then write five sentences containing five different possible reactions for them to have to the change.
Bonus: pick a reaction (or multiple ones) and expand it (them) into a scene.
(REPLY TO THIS POST WHEN YOU DO THIS EXERCISE.)
@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Chris113022 @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Deathdefender @Wolfmist @bjhovey @LeoScales7 @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @ISentinelPenguinI @GrottyStatute74
(Sorry I was late today, guys. >_> I may have twisted my damn ankle, I got off work late, I got a flat tire, had to get meds for my sweetie, so on.)
________________________________-NEVERMIND THIS POST-____________________________________________
Fred woke up. He had been unconscious for a while. He stood up, but it felt awkward. He fell back down. His hands felt like rocks, and his face felt stretched. He looked into the mirror. I'm a horse...
1. "Oh, yes!" Fred says, "Now I don't have to deal with my boss anymore!"
2. "No!" Fred yells, "I will demand that scientist change me back!"
3. Fred crumples to the ground and cries, "My face is so ugly now!"
4. "Uh oh," Fred worries, "What if the tacos get cold without me attending them?"
5. "Evil scientist guy!" Fred yells, looking out the window, "I want a refund! Betty got to be a hamster!"
Wow, this is all bad, I bet...
Oh well, I can attempt the bonus...
Okay, this is going to be bad, but I've chosen Sherlock Holmes, in the present, working as a cashier in a fastfood joint.
1. "Severe muscle atrophy in the legs, overweight by 50, no... 60 pounds and staining on the finger nails points to a severe smoking habit, sorry madam, but I insist you order the salad."
2. "Sherlock, Sherlock, you've got to help, one of the burgers we just served is poisoned." "I though they were all poison?"
3, At that moment, Sherlock faced his greatest challenge so far: "Why would anyone do that in the urinal?"
4, "I had never seen Sherlock in such desperation, though I would have liked to help him get back on his feet I knew he was to proud to accept any assistance. That burger was great though."
5. As Sherlock once more stood face to face with Professor Moriarty, his archnemesis, his jaw clenched up with anger, he scornfully asked him: "Would you like fries with that?"
As Okabe became affected by the onslaught of time-travel induced vertigo for what appeared to be the last time, he steadied himself for the coming shift. Shortly afterwards, he returned to the mundane world, only to be overcome with an overwhelming feeling of disorientation. He began to feel his body for source of this anomaly. Longer hair? Heavier chest? Smaller stature? I have to find a mirror! It was only a matter of time before Okabe managed to stumble into a nearby restroom, where he came to a startling conclusion; “Hey, it’s me. The Organization has somehow managed to morph my corporeal form into that of a female! I’ll get back to you with further developments. El. Psy. Congroo.”
“I don’t know how the bastards at CERN did this, but at least I’m not some shriveled octogenarian.”
“DAMMIT IT ALL TO HELL!! Now Daru has new fap material!”
“MWAHAHAHA!!!! The world shall now feel the wrath of the new and improved, sexy HOUOUIN KYOUMA!!!”
“How is this possible? Kurisu…I’m sorry, but I guess you’ll have to wait for me.”
“Well, first things first, if I’m going to find out how this happened, I will have to find and explain this to everyone back at the lab; maybe we can come to a conclusion together.”
“MWAHAHAHA!!! The world shall now feel the wrath of the new and improved, sexy HOUOUIN KYOUMA!!!”
A 5’4’’ height with a fairly well-endowed breast size and the curves to match? Long, silky brown hair that falls just below the shoulders? And a beautiful lab coat with shoes to match? The world shall fall to its knees in nanosecond with the ferocity of my cuteness!
Realizing that she had left her lab coat on the nearby stall, Okabe quickly grabbed it and scurried out of the bathroom before any men decided to show up. I will have to be more careful in the future, seeing as how my new appearance may create some misunderstandings. Following the usual route to the lab through the crowded streets of Akihabara, Okabe was constantly ogled by the resident otaku, who all mistook her for a standard cosplayer. However, she completely ignored them, knowing full well that she would be able to pay them back once he achieved his dream of world domination.
Soon enough, Okabe reached the building that held his sanctum-The Future Gadget Laboratory-and casually walked up the stairs, surprised at the fact that Mr. Braun had yet to appear. Upon reaching the door, Okabe pulled out her key and entered through the threshold, removing her shoes as was custom (eventhough Daru could probably care less)…
…To find that the room was in fact crowded with people she had never seen before.
“Who are you people?!” Okabe’s feminine voice squealed in apprehension.
“OH MY GOD!! SO MOEEEEE!!!!” called a strange girl with glasses who nearly tackled him on sight.
“Is that…..? It is! Okarin! TUTURUUUU!” It was fairly masculine, but Okabe could tell in a heartbeat that the young man was none other than Mayuri. Did that mean that the girl clinging to him was Daru?
“Welcome back, Okabe. I guess we’re not the only things that have changed. Anyway, we’ve been waiting for you, so sit down.”
A hot guy with blood red hair and amazing blue eyes? Wait! What the hell am I saying?! I guess this new female body of mine is already undergoing swift changes. Oh well, at least I’m not the only one.
“All right then…Mayuri, get me a Doctor Pepper! It looks like we have a lot of work to do.”
OOC: Dammit, Kiel, why must life insist on punching you in the face around every corner!? Anyway, it's Kung-Fu Cowboy time.
Songzang Zhe was a warrior in Fuedal China. A monk skilled in the ways of martial arts... And funerals. In times of war he travelled far and wide with a spade, burying and praying over bodies along the roadside to keep demons from terrorizing the common people. And often times he would have to defend himself, and others, from aggressive militiary forces, and/or the demons themselves. He concealed his identity with a long black cloak, wide-brimmed hat, and a black scarf, so that the soldiers would not know which monastery to threaten in order to stop him... And because years of contact with demons and ethereal horrors had profoundly influenced his appearance. And his abilities...
It was quite a surprise for him when he woke up in a desert. He knew that, despite all of his training, he must have gotten himself possessed by accident, because he never had any intention, or memory, of travelling to the northwestern sands. That was, after all, dangerous Mongol territory... But this desert was hotter than the Gobi ever could have hoped to be... And there were strange, thorny plants here and there.
Sunburned men in strange clothes and silly hats approached, and they were carrying strange weapons with them... The things they said consisted of indecipherable tongues and gibberish, far from the ancient Chinese languages that he was used to, but, if one were to say it phonetically, one of the more important statements would sound like: "Wat the heller you doin'ere, Jonsin? Weebin luhkin ahl oaver fer ya. Yoonoe haow dif'kult it is te gahd cattle herds frum one ennuh the Cala-rado te the uther weth on'ny too mehn? Wea need ya ridin' with us, not layin' down inthe middla no-wears"
They carried inconcievably short broadswords, and black metal talismans, which they carried in leather boxes at their sides.
1. Obviously, they were trying to exorcize him with those talismans, rid him of the demons that brought him here, and Zhe would help them as much as the demons would allow. He stood absolutely still as they became increasingly frustrated with him.
2. Obviously, this was Hell. Hell, to Zhe, was always a hot, horrible desert, with terrible thorny plants and strange creatures. These men were wielding objects meant to fend demons off and prolong their inevitable deaths, as they were no doubt tortured to death, over and over. Zhe readied his spade for combat, only a proper burial and prayers for redemption would bring them out of here.
3. Obviously, Zhe had been asleep for a very long time. This was just after the world had ended! The landscape was scorched and sandy and full of yellow rocks, and the plants were corrupted and sickly. He had just met the last straggling survivors, who had inexplicably escaped death with him. Zhe stuck his spade into the ground and extended his hand in greeting.
4. Obviously, this was an attempt at robbery. Zhe put his hands on his head and let his spade fall to the ground. He didn't have anything valuable on him, so there was no use in fighting. And, well, if they tried to take his spade, he would see to it that it was the last thing they ever touched.
5. Obviously, the best course of action would be to find out what on earth was going on before doing anything rash. He asked them what was going on, but the only thing that the said was some gibberish that sounded like, "Sumthin' raung, Jonsin? Y'aint maekin since!"
"Oh, fuck." The creature with the name that shatters sanity muttered as he woke up in a soft, fleshy form. His ten thousand tentacles were gone, and the visage capable of striking fear into the hearts of gods had vanished. Without a doubt, he was human. He instinctively reached out for his sword, which was once used to slice a moon in half, but his hand closed around only blankets. Speaking of his hand, it would appear he only has five fingers now; as opposed to the twenty-three tentacles that used to lie on his scaled hand. He sat bolt upright in his bed, and felt an uncomfortable churning as his body sent signals unfamiliar to him. He felt the urge to masturbate, scream at his parents and sulk... all at the same time. The once-mighty beast realized with horror he was stuck in the body of an even more unpredictable savage; the human teenager.
"Sweetie, breakfast!" The voice of his caretaker called through the door of his room. Flo'sho'rragh the Mighty slid out of the sheets, and staggered downstairs. He groaned and pulled at the unfamiliar garments upon his form. They certainly weren't the tunic made of the shifting souls of the damned that he was used to.
"V'ish fleek." He muttered, which translates to something like, "Today is going to be a long day stuck in an adolescent human form in a completely unexpected circumstance."
Dun dadun du-u-uhn - dun daduhn! Dun dadun du-u-u-uhn - dun daduhnDuhnDUHN!
(Not the easiest exercise and not the easiest character to change...)
Okay, well, here goes nothing.
A fluffy bunny slipper crawled out from under the child's crowded bed. Its partner had been missing for a while, and so the lone slipper was condemned to the narrow space under the bedframe.
The bunny slipper walked/hopped/moved-however-a-slipper-moves over to the colossal bay window above the bed. The slipper came there every chance it could and daydreamed about being bread. Not just any bread, tasty whole grain bread. Mm...
Suddenly, with a very cliche blast of light, the bunny slipper was a slice of bread! But not just any bread. White bread. Slipper hates white bread!
1- The slipper solemnly looked out the window, suddenly longing for the days it was a slipper. "Fml," It said with a butter tear running down it's soft bread surface. "M8, I'm the wrong bread." :(
2- Even though the bunny slipper hates white bread, it accepted its fate. Hey, at least it was bread.
3- "Nooo!" The slipper let out an anguished cry. "I AM GROSS BREAD!" Meanwhile, the child stomped up the stairs and into their room. Gazing at the beautiful slice of bread, the child shoved it into their mouth, and with a mouth full of bunny slipper bread, he commented how leathery the bread tasted. That was the end of the bunny slipper.
4- The slipper didn't even notice it was bread. In a fit of longing and jealousy of whole grain bread world-wide, it flushed itself down the toilet. Don't ask me how that worked...
5- "Well, fuck this shit." The slipper bread said, and leaped out the window. However, it didn't die. Bread cannot die. So the slipper had to spend its days on the streets, wishing someone would eat it. But, ew, white bread!
Too bad for the slipper that I wasn't there, I would gladly eat it.
Tuesday! Continuing with "Other Worldly" Week...
Create an alternate universe like ours, but change one thing about it. It can be silly, it can serious, you can make it dark and disturbing, negative or positive, whatever you please. Explain to us what you've changed and how that one thing effects daily life.
Bonus: write a scene about a character from our world crossing into theirs and experiencing the change.
@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Deathdefender @Wolfmist @bjhovey @LeoScales7 @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @ISentinelPenguinI @GrottyStatute74
The Last Dimension. That's its name. It is the hardest to find; the only way to get to it is luck. If you are lucky, you'll be transfered there when your struck by a lightning bolt or hit by a car going 90+ mph. The difference to the Main Dimension is easy to see; everything is made of dark matter. It all makes this dimension chaotic and hard to live in. Explosions, natural disasters, extreme sickness, you name it. It all happens here.
But no one in the Main Dimension knows about this strange world, as once you're in, you can't go back.
Bonus: (Will attempt when I get back)
The HIV-equivalent to the alternate universe is the lack of superpowers. Well, relative to us, it would be superpowers, but the human body just weakens and diminishes over time to a "fragile" state.
What's better yet is that they opened a wormhole to our world, so...yeah. A bit of accusatory stuff, a bit of debate...
Now, I wasn't one for things like bondage, and I was certainly not into things like vivisections on human beings, but alas...for the sake of science, I had a sleeping individual from Over There on a rack, joints severed and cauterized to prevent escape. The people there were hostile to us, and were right to be so because of their unfortunate conditions over there, but what I was doing now could hardly justify the operation.
"Mister...my legs and arms feel weird. I can't move them," the specimen mumbled. Our equivalent of a boy, really, was the specimen. Healthy Caucasian, no abnormalities except for the fact that despite his biological structure, his little tantrum deforested the entire square mile of forest I used to hide in.
I simply nodded to him, and flipped on the CD player. Ludovico Einaudi, a composer of repetition and dynamics. A master of hypnotics, though that's more of my given title to him than what he would proclaim himself.
Still, though, I found his works as powerful a drug as nicotine.
The melancholic tone began, and as I made the first quick, painless incision, I looked at the boy. He looked back at me with sleepy eyes, but in them...I knew he was scared.
How could he not be? We shared a childhood all too similar; a man in white taking the boy into a private nature reserve, then unconsciousness, and then pain upon awakening. Parents were distant, friends became mortal enemies, and a cloud of misunderstanding too thick to merely penetrate would surround him.
He was touched by one of them, they would say.
His heart rate was normal, breathing normal, and his organs appeared to function relatively well. The only strange thing was that his blood did not seem anything close to it. Nay, his blood was some sort of gelatinous mix in the plasma, and I figured it was something with the oxygen intake that helped him perform his feats. I already had a vial sent to the lab for testing, so I cycled it back in through the hemodialysis machine, and back into his bloodstream. At most, what little toxins, like small bacterial traces and other impurities would be flushed out. He'd be perfectly normal, considering his regeneration of the flesh was incredible.
In fact, his cauterized wounds were already tying themselves back up, and the boy winced when I brushed my scalpel across his ribcage.
By now, Ludovico was banging furiously on the piano, the melancholy descending into a chorus of maddening grief, and just as that climax had suddenly broken off, my work was done.
I handed the boy a lollipop, grape-flavored.
"You did well there, kid. You have to listen to me now...carefully.
Do not tell anyone what I did. People will want to hurt you if we don't do this carefully. Later...maybe years later...I'll explain to your parents that I took a look at your body on the inside, but...please...listen. If you don't, I'm going to die..."
"Mister, I don't want that! You're nice...but maybe a bit weird..."
"Yeah, you'll be surprised how many adults are. Maybe your parents are too, in their own ways."
I pat the kid on the head, and then let my hand rest on his shoulder.
"Sorry for...breaking the forest."
"Don't need to be. It will heal over time."
"Really? Because the forests in my place...they grow back like in a snap!"
"Yeah, well not here. They do all the same, but not here..."
We're all the same, but here and there, though...we're different. Funny how species get more hostile to each other when they see each other doing the same thing together. The real funny thing, is, though, the fact that while we have the minds to transcend that incapacity, something pulls us to choose otherwise. Usually it's something like a lingering sentiment or some ever-concrete problem for every human being, but in this case, where one world contains infinite riches relative to the other, things were a little different.
It's the fact that we were different that caused this enmity.
There was once a time when the dimension parallel to Earth’s had color. The skies were a bright cerulean, and the grass a typical celadon-green. Even the Sun, as overtly infuriating as it seemed, was a fairly rich gold, with streaks of scarlet for good measure. But then, everything changed when the MEEPs appeared. The MEEPs (a.k.a Monochromatic Enigmatic Energy Phenomena) invaded on a day known to the Palletians as Primer Day, and took the world of Pallet by storm. Using their dark magic and hatred for vivid and expressive hues, the beings blanketed the world in a field of white, turned the sky jet-black, and made the Palletians the dull color of ash.
“Hey Will! Get yer ass ova ‘ere!”
It was the stupid thug, Julian, from the other high school again. The guy is only two years older than Will, and yet he insists on acting like he is a badass. This kind of nonsense has been occurring since Will was eight years old, and he refuses to take it anymore. But for the time being, he decides to engage Julian cautiously.
“What do you want, Julian,” Will asks with a clearly annoyed tone.
“I want ya t’ go steal somma that nerd’s shit for me. He’s just sittin’ ova there, doin’ his fuckin’ work like he can just ignore me!”
“Yeah, well I’m not doing it-not this time.”
Julian stops in his tracks, obviously thrown off by this act of defiance. “What the hell did you say to me?”
“Let me put it in words you’ll understand: I ain’t gonna take your shit anymore, dumbass.”
With pure anger running through his veins, Julian takes a swing at Will, who gets punched in the stomach. Seeing that Will is still standing, though only through willpower, Julian upper cuts him in the jaw, and sends him recoiling into the pavement. In his last moments of consciousness, Will can see stars, and falls into the swaddle of nothingness.
When Will awakens, he is still on the pavement, only this time, something is strange. He can’t see can’t see the blood on the pavement; in fact, the entire pavement just appears to be white. The sky? A black devoid of any traces of light. And to top it all off, everyone is gone. Granted, there were not a lot of people on the school grounds after classes had ended, but there was enough to notice a difference.
Suddenly, Will hears a noise. It sounds like a distant hovering sound, or maybe a buzz, but the fact remains that it can still be heard. Turning around in one swift motion, he nearly screams like a girl when a black blob about thirty-feet high, with three rows of very sharp teeth falls into his line of sight. Petrified, Will runs (a big mistake), and the blob instantly teleports in front of him. As it looms closer and death seems to be the likely result, an indigo beam is fired out of thin air, and the blob explodes into a pile of squishy transparent goo.
From the black sky, a being that could only be described as a demon materializes. In a deep, booming voice (which only succeeds in allowing Will to soil his trousers), it says,
“I see that you are from THAT cesspool. Welcome to the world of Pallet. I am Salenius Argon Tamriac Allena Nemurk. Just call me SATAN.”
“Why are you telling me this,” Will implores.
“Isn’t that obvious, human? You’re going to help me return this world to normal!”
Okay, time for me to join in the fun... So this world is pretty much the same as Earth, only instead of having any kind of democracy, empire, monarchy or any other form of leadership, the world is completely ruled over by a mysterious, immortal man named Bob.
It's been over three years since I came to this planet, I have a home, a job, friends, a lover, everything I ever wanted in life, yet I'm still not content... It's Bob. Yes, I could just try to ignore it all and get on with my life, but how can you ignore something that's thrown in your face every day? Just open the morning paper and you'll read how Bob recently funded the construction of several new hospitals and children's homes in some of the poorest countries in the world. Turn to the next page and you'll read how he ordered the detonation of three trains on their way to capital city, killing every man woman and child inside. Apparently he did this to send a message to the people that he will severely punish anyone who refuses to serve his will. The trouble is, nobody seems to know what his will is.
Of course, there are rulers and politicians chosen by Bob himself to speak to the people on his behalf, yet somehow, even though all these people claim that they speak directly to Bob, they all seem to disagree on what it is Bob wants. So many wars are fought in Bob's name, only both sides claim they are the one that is fighting for Bob, and that their enemy are traitors on whom Bob will unleash his glorious wrath.
Nobody I know on this planet has ever personally seen or spoken to Bob, yet they all claim to know exactly what it is Bob wants from them, and all of their theories conflict with each others. My boyfriend Jon gets frustrated sometimes that I know so little about Bob, so he suggested I read the book. "The Word of Bob" is a book that was personally written by Bob and distributed to the people of the world to teach them who Bob really is and how he wants us to live our lives... There is only one problem with this suggestion. This isn't Bob's only book. There are several different books spread across the world, all of which claim that they were personally written by Bob, and also say that any other book claiming to be written by Bob is a fake and should be discarded as treasonous lies. Jon however seems convinced that the book he has read is the only true book to be written by Bob because... It says so in the book.
Every day I hear more and more about him and I have never known of an individual to be both so kind and so cruel, so wise and so ignorant, ever constant but always changing. I could live on this planet a thousand life times and still not understand him. He is so recluse and his spokesmen contradict each other so much that many people believe that Bob doesn't truly exist at all. I know I'm just one woman on a strange planet where she doesn't belong, but I'll go mad if I don't unravel the mystery. That's why I've started this documentary. It won't be easy, there will be obstacles, and before this is over, I'm probably going to regret I ever started it. Still, for the people of this planet, for the people back on earth and more than anything for myself, I need to find out... Who is Bob?
In this world, people wear no clothes. For what reason, don't ask me. They just never wore any clothes, and it's been like that forever. Well, people would be much more comfortable talking about sexuality and such openly, and the same industry would not be as blooming Males may not even have the ability to erect, and as a result, drastically shorter genitalia. Obesity would be much extinct, as people would be more self-concious of their body shape.
"Watch out!" Cassy screeched into my ear as I instinctively swerved the wheel, sending roadmaps, carefully laid out on top of the dashboard, and a coffee mug in the cupholder at us. I braked the car, not wanting to fall into the ditch on the side of the road, and the vehicle filled with our panting.
Then the bitch opened her mouth. I instinctively began to tune out her voice, bracing myself for her birdlike screeching and blaming, but it didn't come. Instead, she simply said, "They were naked."
We had been driving south to Atlanta for a nice getaway, in hopes of repairing our damaging relationship... and having some time to ourselves. Why didn't I just keep on driving? Why was I interested in this? I had been driving for nearly five hours; I knew I should've just taken a flight, but I was saving up for retirement. But the thing that intrigued me enough was that they were, in fact, naked... or, were they?
In my side mirror I saw some boobs walking toward us. C-cups. Perfect. They had a short, round head topped with blonde hair. It took me a second to realize she was naked like my wife had said, but by that time she was already at the window.
"Hey! You should watch where you're going. You... alri... ght...?" Her voice declined as she watched our slackjawed expressions.
"You don't have any clothes," I stuttered stupidly. Duh.
"Clothes?" She mumbled quizzically, as now she began to squint at the very fabric we wore. "Is that... wool?" I noticed her boobs swayed slightly as she spoke, but caught the angry gaze of my wife.
"You're not wearing any clothes!" The bitch next to me exploded. "Don't you have any shame? What if a kid sees you?" Damn. All I did was glance at her; what a bitch.
"A... kid? So what if a kid sees me? But why're you guys wearing... fabric?" She stared at us the same way we did her. We were all a bunch of martians.
I saw another person come strolling up the side of the car through the window. Big guy, bulging abs and pecs, though I could've easily taken him on. He stood protectively at the women's side. "Hey, uh, is everything okay over here?"
I felt jealous, watching my wife look up and down at the man's body, and felt like slapping her, but resisted. She smiled, staring directly into the man's eyes. "Are we near some nudist convention?"
"'Nudist convention'? No ma'am... we're all nudists here, after all. Haha. Say, what're you guys.... uh... wearing?" He stared at our clothes, and I began feeling self-conscious... but also a little threatened. It was weird... I didn't trust these people.
As my wife melted in the man's gaze, I waved to the couple, and resisted the urge to reach for the women's hanging boob. "Right, we uh, gotta go," I said.
"Wait, Marvin," Cassy said, grabbing my arm. "Let's ask the nice man for directions... and his number... and his address... and when he's free..." She giggled, staring at him.
"Oh cut it out!" I exclaimed, hitting the gas pedal and pulling away back onto the road. Cassy began bitching like the bitch she was. Even if she was a bitch, I didn't stand the idea of some nudist hunk boning her.
Looking back on it now, it's funny to see how surprised we were by two nudists... in contrast to an entire gas station.
The alternate universe is essentially the same as ours, what happens is really a possible future of earth's.
On an earth like planet roughly 70 years more advanced than our own all humans have been placed in cryogenic freeze for the safety of the planet. Inside the cryo-freeze their minds are plugged-in to the Simulation, an exact copy of a socialist utopia on a hyper advanced-planet. Initially they went willingly, entire countries at a time, but some resisted. These people were known as the Defectors, the men and women who did not subscribe to United-Front's grand plan for the future of their species. Initially UF tried to convince them that plugging in to the Simulation was the right thing to do, when it became clear that they would rather die than enter the Simulation, the last of the UF officials entered the Simulation, deploying a deadly bio-weapon behind them. Unfortunately for UF a tiny number of people developed a genetic resistance to the disease, leaving entire continents controlled by wandering bands of Defectors.
Wednesday! Day three of "Other Wordly" week! Yesterday, you built a new universe. Today, let's try building a new race!
Invent an alien race and culture. Include a name for said race, a brief history, and full physical description for both genders' average appearance. (If there is only one gender, explain their regular appearance and how they are capable of reproducing.)
Feel free to add any extra details you like, such as how long they've been around, their evolutionary tree, their greatest accomplishments, and so on--but that's optional, not necessary.
Bonus: give them a dark secret and write a scene about a young alien or outsider discovering it.
The Damnation. It's an occasion talked little about, and even so much as mentioning it to the stone-colored Dro'aloth amasses a crowd of imposing glares, enough to shut most of the ignorant up. Of course, if a visitor's stupidity exceeds that, he or she would find his or her head impaled on one of the front gate's pikes, alongside the murderers, thieves, and failed conquistadors.
Although the Dro'aloth have no conception of day and night, their calendars are among the most accurate of the new world, and annually, on the first new moon of the year (hence, the date changes every year), they begin the ceremonies. Orphaned Dro'aloth enter a distanced trance at this time when exposed to the lack of moonlight, and go berzerk when interrupted. Hence, the overworld Erul-ki have often made raids down below to capture at least one of the Dro'aloth children. The reported death count in the last decade is up to 8 casualties on part of the defending subterranean dwellers, and over half a thousand on the overworld raiders, thanks to the unfamiliar environment and the even deadlier fauna in the dark.
From what the archaeologists and cultural researchers have gathered from private conversations with the elders and quiet observations from the actual ceremony itself, it's a grim, brutal reminder of the Dro'aloths' mortality : a ritual comprised of mixed cries. Turbulent emotions can be felt from the crowd, even in the safety of the Upper Stratums. Many visitors, as long as they aren't Erul-ki, are granted the privilege to participate in this ritual. Braille-esque script is provided for their vocal parts.
The Damnation begins with the Pilgrimage, though in comparison to the other Subterran, the Dro'aloths' own Pilgrimage is a short commute to the Sixty-Third Stratum (as of year 10 PostContact [we'll keep it at PC from now on], it is the lowest Stratum built so far), usually taking about an hour to walk down the precariously thin walkways hewn from lead.
At the 63 Stratum, no light can be seen, and providing any sort of vision results in a well-placed arrow to the throat. Therefore, only Dro'aloth and a few other races can actually observe the initiation.
Once the entire population of the settlement arrives, a mass execution of prisoners is performed. Between Dro'aloth settlements, executions differ. Some people are flayed alive, others are overdosed with anesthetics, yet still others simply fade away into nothingness. As for the lattermost style, no one knows if the faded have really died. 25 journalists have been "faded", and though scrying them reveals nothing, vital monitors have registered life signs as normal.
After the executions, the Dro'aloth participate in a cavern-wide feast. It is judged that over four billion kilograms are consumed in this meal. The meal itself is mostly Paiuep, a dough made of a maize-like plant indigenous to the Caverns (oddly enough, re-introduced Dro'aloth have reported the taste as being similar to that of taro). There is no conversation in the hour-long process.
For the sake of brevity, there is a meal following each ceremony. Some settlements slowly diminish the servings as a metaphor to the starvation of eternal life their ancestors had.
There is then a personal offering of words to their gods made by each member of the cavern, visitor or not. The offering may take several hours to a few days, depending on the size of the tribe. For each offering of words, an apology must be made to correspond each wish. If a child asks for more food in the future, he or she must also beg pardon for gluttony. If a hunter asks for a good harvest the following year, she will also expect to starve for the next three for her family's sake, etc.
After the offering of words, each and every member of the Cavern recites a poem in unison. Water is provided for the lead vocalists should their voices fail, but not one member who isn't a water-bearer is allowed to leave the 50 Stratum. In quiet, shuffling steps, the shrill cries of young, old, male, female, healthy, and sick combine together to create a solemn chorus that echoes to the world above.
The poem is never changed, so translation is fairly quick.
"The cries of the poor are lost. x2
Cast down to earth is our kindred,
weeping as blood-stained tears dribble to the stone below.
No one, but those who are equally cursed, know of this.
Our gods, once so generous and kind,
were split into facets of selfishness.
By Their Gods, they have gained all,
we have lost all.
The cries of the damned have been choked out.
We now beseech thee,
The Face of Greed,
To spare us your scraps...
...lest the children of the One Once Before,
The poem is repeated with different passages that recount the history of the Dro'aloth in between; the bones of fallen kills are sculpted into little rosaries to keep track of the prayers. This procession often takes the rest of the week to complete.
After this, the final meal occurs before a self-mutilation of all the children occurs. It varies each year, so first-years differ from the second, and the second the third, and so on all until the twelfth year. Few generations leave without permanently losing a finger, limb, or other organ. Those who have injured themselves too badly are quickly sent to the medicine men and doctors, where the bleeding stumps of fingers, hands, and wrists are hurriedly burned to avoid rot.
Another week of grievance is followed for the past who have fallen. This is also the period when gifted Dro'aloth take in the spirit of a dead shaman to "resume" the service. The gifted's spirits are taken to a place no one knows, but on the chance they might return in another body, they seem to have perfect memories of their past lives. However, their past personalities are all but drained.
And so concludes the Damnation.
Non-bonus bonus snippet :
The Dro'aloth are siilar to the Draegloth in the sense of their "demonic" ancestry, but unlike the Draegloth, their gods have all but abandoned them. This, and added to the fact that they are a true-bred species (meaning they reproduce without any aid, and can breed with each other with little to no changes in offspring), places them as an entirely different light in comparison to the Draegloth. Dro'aloth were originally created as genetic chimeras of the Dorul-ki (ancestors of the Erul-ki and Dro'aloth) and an alien race that had visited millennias ago. The impact of the alien technology is seen as the once beast-like Dorul-ki have now become more civilized races with major advances in perma-culture (monopolized by the Erul-ki) and metalworking (monopolized by the Dro'aloth).
TL;DR Dro'aloths look like Draegloths without the extra two limbs.
Actual bonus :
From high above, the little boy clung desperately to the thin, delicate stalagmites teetering almost to a ninety-degree angle. He wasn't so big, at least, and weighed only a miniscule 45 lb. Even so, though, the chorus of bloodcurdling screams from down below caused him to sweat sweat that would lubricate his hands, make him lose his grip.
The only reason why he even ventured down here was because he did have a Dro'aloth friend down below. She had initially said to him, between odd scribbles and the occasional gestures, that she was apart from the rest of her tribe.
And yet, on that full moon, full as any other moon, she left him, a quiet hum reverberating from her bosom, akin to a stone wall. So great was this rumbling that the little boy woke and pursued her to hear.
He was sure that his presence there was illegal...dangerous. And yet, despite his obvious hanging from above, it appeared as though the entire Dro'aloth populace was down below; they either did not care a shadow slithered above, or they were truly as blind as he was in pitch blackness. And for that he was thankful.
And he was thankful for sleep, even though his grip loosened.
The Flerbs, without a doubt, are our secret manipulators. Taking the form of large, furry beasts, they watch us from afar. We may have many names for them, like "Illuminati" or "Jews", but their true name is "Flerb". They're full extent of abilities is unknown, but they appear to have the ability to slowly poison a human's mind against those it once loved.
Abnormally proportioned, they stand upon four massive, furry paws and look on at the world with a cold intellect behind their flat, square-ish face. I don't know how long they've infiltrated Earth, but they appear to dominate the Pantanal. Some fools in the US have been adopting them as pets. Talk about letting the enemy into your house.
The creatures have an outpost in Montreal, and almost every Western city. They even... Eat their own shit, as some of it is protein-rich paste.
Their burrows are not what they appear, stretching for miles and miles. Pods of incubated people are in them, oblivious to the outside world. I think they must be reprogramming them or something. I don't know their intentions, but they can't be good. These people are probably for the conquering of Earth, or perhaps a more advanced infiltration unit.
In short? Next time you see a capybara, fucking kill it.
Oh God... They're going to torture me for hours. I can see the people under their influence, getting closer to me every day. I don't want to be a slave to their dark intentions. I think we all know what I need to do...
Oops. Could've sworn I added the tags. Sorry, guys.
The Book of Yetas, on Origins
I am the one who created this plane. For all of my future descendants and creations, that word is particularly important: “plane.” Assuming that you, my people, are advanced enough to even comprehend this document, I shall tell you the origins of your race.
I am from the fifth dimension, otherwise known as the Tesseraeus. By your standards, my kind had advanced to the point of being omnipotent and divine beings. However, our powers have only one limitation, which is that our largest creations cannot be equal to the status of the world in which we live. As a result, your dimension is that of the fourth, which we call Tesseract. Though many of my associates have created other worlds and dimensions, my realm is the only domain that has managed to survive this long, at the time that this record is being written.
You all will soon come to comprehend it yourselves, but the concept of dates, has no meaning in your dimension. Reality itself is always fluctuating, choosing to completely shift and alter itself over a specific interval. That interval is every one Upsilon; you shall notice that major changes to your memories, race and survival occurs after five cycles (5c = 1u). However, I expect you to find this record (which due to my powers, shall remain unchanged for every future upsilon after writing this) around the end of 1u2c. I shall be gone by then, and conflicts may arise as to the truth of this message, but I shall verify my existence and your race with some predictions.
The First: I presume that even though the race I originally created was of one gender, you all shall notice changes in demeanor and appearance in a select few. These mutations shall give rise to what Tesseraeus call Morae (Mora, in singular). All of you will continue to have blue-grey exteriors with visual, auditory and sensory organs that respond to stimuli, but these specimen shall obtain slightly higher proportions of body fat, as well as more diverse (both negative and positive) emotions. Those without the mutations, will keep any kind of bodily hair, regardless of color, whereas the strange ones shall lose this ancient connection. In time, you all shall find them worthy and attractive. In fact, they will be so much so, that the creation of more members of the species shall come depend on their aptitude for survival and beauty.
The Second: Your language shall be divided into two. The ancestor language from which your dialects originate was called Qwevac-a language similar to the native language of Tesseraeus. The language of the Upper Eschelon of the Tesseract shall have a more rigid, formulaic and defined structure, with emphasis on the use of the “Y” character. The Lower Eschelon shall have more complex grammar, with fluidity that emphasizes speed over exactness. Because I wish to provide any type of conflicts based upon differences in linguistics, I have made this record a combination of both languages, which shall inevitably force cooperation.
The Final: A strange indication of the end of my world shall draw near. I am not sure of the details, despite my powers, but it shall come with force and haste. I suspect that the event will occur by 3u4c at latest. Please, for the sake of my pride, last as long as you can, and prevent any destruction of this realm by inhabitants of my plane.
Closing: This is my first and final goodbye. I, Yetas, wish you all the best of luck. You all shall be known as: Dictact.
By Sildre, on My Life
In the event that I shall not live for another day, I shall leave this record for others to find, and speak of my fate. I am Sildre Landros, a resident of the Upper Eschelon, and a second generation Didact (we call ourselves the second generation, that is, the second generation to learn to comprehend the teachings of Yetas). It is the Upsilon-Cycle that the Great One has predicted, who has also accurately (to a degree) determined the fate of his people. Although I could write an entire recount of the Book of Leedus on Yeta’s mistakes, I shall refrain from doing so here. Ultimately, Yeta produced the right information, the guessing game just began once this Cycle came about.
For this particular cycle, the Principle of Survival has been altered. The previously warm and tropical climate for the last Upsilon has drastically changed to that of a frigid wasteland. The last time anything this cold was recorded was in 2u3c, when a similar event occurred (though of course, we doubt its truth-value). But I, for one thing, have seen something I shouldn’t have:
I have seen Tesseraeus.
Yes, that is hard to believe, considering Yetas mentions it frequently in his Teachings, but never describes the place himself. I came across it by accident, near the zone of Worces (the place between the Eschelons where Yetas, supposedly created this realm). I fell into an underground cave, which contained some sort of stange indigo vortex and found something worse than anyone could have imagined.
The realm is a dead zone. A war between monstrous beasts destroys and rebuilds the land at incomprehensible speeds. The sky is red as blood. The eyes of Tesseraeus’ inhabitants are bleak, if not blood thirsty. And worst of all, they followed me here. Before I could run away in fear, they spotted me and chased me into Tesseract. I somehow managed to trap them in the bowels of Worces, but I don’t know how long it will last. I think I wil be the one to bring catastrophe unto the world.
I hope whomever is reading this can find the will to forgive me. I hope that Yetas will come again and save us from our impending doom.
I hope that God will bring mercy on our souls.
Can I join? Not that I feel left out or anything..I like this central idea.
-_-' I hate it when people don't read bother to read the instructions. I had ONE major rule for this thread. And I quote:
You just locked Leo's post. That cheats him out of the ability to go back and edit his work, which is why it's not allowed here. On top of that, as I said before, again, quoting the first post of this thread: Anyone is allowed to join up at any time, but please let me know in a PM if you want to be added to our tag and scoring list.
I will add you and you may jump in at any time, but please don't do this again, it's unfair to the other participants.
@Sethaniel Please delete the post locking Leo's thread? Thank you in advance.
Now, now, Kiel. Take it easy. :P
In all seriousness, I'm not mad, I just don't appreciate being asked a question I answered in the first post (and others) just because people are too lazy to read and just skim instead ... I also don't like seeing clearly marked rules ignored. (And I feel a little bad about having to bug Seth for this.)
From The Book of Life: Origin section 46, the Ghee:
Carved wood and a pinch of sperm is what created you slender beings, given I recall correctly. The man is the darker and thicker of you two, while the women is the lighter and slender. I have given you vision, hearing, and smell through the tufts of leaves at your finger tips, and touch to feel the world, though a mouth was unnecessary. You creatures would get the entirety of your energy from the brilliant sun. You have legs as well, free to explore at your will. Slender tree-like creations you are, though you are not the tree. The tree bows to you.
Reproduction? I have created the pollen, to be gifted to the female by the male. The pollen will be stored into her, where she will nurture the baby for one year until it is ready for the world. The female removes the baby and sets it free. The best way to learn is through exploration. It is one of my glorious wonders to see an infant Ghee wandering among its lesser, the trees, alone, cooing without a voice for its mother. Rest assured, the Ghee will soon discover myself and its source of power. The male and female Ghee are allowed to pollinate one another only.
As I have, stated, I gave the Ghee its curiosity and its source of energy. I expect you creatures to worship none other than me, and follow my orders, and anything else will be expected from you. You Ghee will hold once-a-week ceremonies for me once a week, where you do not energize yourselves; fast for an entire day. Feel the great power of mine as you return to my sun, begging for its warmth, and feel my mercy as I bestow it upon you for your use without question. Your one purpose in life is to bow down to me and follow my rules.
The Ghee, as aforementioned, were taken from the tree. The tree was named Janjay, and all trees were to bow down to the greatest of all creations, the human. However this particular tree, Janjay, opposed me by refusing to boe, and as such, I cast him to another world filled with the humans. Soon I bestowed upon the confused tree that it did love humans, as I created it to. A drop of sperm was laid upon Janjay, birthing the Ghee. I destroyed the humans, leaving a world to discover for this new creation. It adopted a sense of curiosity comparable to that off a human, so I gave this youngling Deve, a female Ghee. I let them discover how to reproduce, and as such, the planet now hosts the Ghee.
That is all I will say about the Ghee.
'Everything that should be discovered is discovered' Jimmy, a human traveler, slowly read from the paper held up by the creature before him. Of course, it wasn't in English, but the language of the Ghees had long been deciphered and Jimmy knew hoe to translate it. He swept his eyes over them, examining the group - a ragtag gang of 'Ghees' brandishing weaponry, it looked like, made out if sticks and rocks. He noticed that these creatures were all men... though some of the men were actually pregnant, with a baby Ghee visibly bulging inside of it.
'We are sick of His rule,'' Another sign read.
'Will you support the cause?' The last one read.
Jimmy suddenly felt beads of sweat working their way down the back of his neck, and he realized he was shaking. In all of his years as an interplanetary cosmonaut, Jimmy had never seen such bravery and courage, though he knew they were doomed. Perhaps the entire Ghee civilization would be wiped out as soon as He learned of His creations' plans.
Jimmy finally turned and walked away, trying to forget what he saw. Despite everything, he would not oppose Him.
Description: Post-physical race that has recently abandoned their bodies, they used to look exactly like stereotypical "green men from mars" with large bulbous heads, green skin and large eyes. Tired of humans giving them shit about it they uploaded their minds into a supercomputer and now interact with their world by controlling robots, drones and brainwashed slaves.
History: they used to be one of the Galaxy's dominant military powers, then they ran into one of earths early military arkships who almost teased the Kura-Thaen to death. They were so badly demoralized after this that they shut themselves in their super-computer for 10 years, slowly building their military power until it was enough to burn all earth-controlled planets to a lifeless husk.
Thursday! "Other Wordly" week is swiftly coming to a close. Excellent work so far, you guys! Today's exercise is inspired by the concept of... a MacGuffin! If you're unfamiliar with the term, a page explaining the concept can be found here: Link!
The exercises is... Invent a special artifact from or for your alien race. Tell us who made it, how, and why.
Bonus: Write a scene about a human (or other non-alien) coming into contact with the artifact in question. How does it effect them? Positively? Negatively?
@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Deathdefender @Wolfmist @bjhovey @LeoScales7 @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @ISentinelPenguinI @GrottyStatute74 @WarriorCatsRPS
A special, dastardly concoction made from the Dro'aloth to promote health. For the Dro'aloth, it allows them to regenerate lost limbs and start anew with a fresh start on terms with Dro'aloth law.
For their overworld kin, it transforms a tree into a sort of nymph-like creature that can revive even concrete jungles back into forests.
For us...it's Yakult on steroids.
"WHAT?!" mumbled the dad, irritated that for the 57th time, his daughter had barged in on a very important meeting pertaining to a trade contract between the Dorul-ki and the Dro'aloth. Two shadows, hidden behind the veil of a light shaft, stirred, but said nothing.
"I gotta go...real bad..."
The Director's daughter, actually, was a verily young half-elf he had picked up during his time as a monk. She was more of his adoptive child, really, since he was forbidden to delve into more...sensual relationships (let alone any with women), so three years went by, and...well, now he was in another world, on an outpost to colonize the area.
"...um...could you excuse me for a mo-"
His daughter was bent over, and a foul, sulfurous scent wafted into the room.
The other two shadows recoiled, and waved on. Quickly, he scooped up his gassy daughter and zoomed out of the room.
Throughout the Administrative Post, staff members young and old could hear a little girl screaming as the Director wove throughout cubicles and hallways towards the restrooms : 200 yards away.
What followed was sniffles, coughs, and exclamations of derogatory terms as the cloud settled from the half-elf crop duster.
As the night had set in on the world, the Director tucked his little one to bed, a hanging canopy bed among dozens of others on the massive tree nymphs called home. She was barely awake at this time, but it was at this moment where she would be the most truthful; at other times, she was often very sly with her words.
"Alright Ophelia...what did you eat?"
"...I don't know."
"Don't lie to me now."
"Ophelia..." her father whined.
"Fine, fine! I went into the caves..."
The Director pulled back for a bit, sighed, and shook his head.
"You're lucky you're my daughter. Any other time, you would've been killed on the spot."
"But the cave people were very nice!"
"Not all the time. Did you give them something?"
"No...I was cleaning out a nice lady's attic, and I found something like a cup of juice."
"...in the attic."
His daughter nodded.
"...and you drank it."
She nodded again.
"What did the cup look like?"
"It was glowy and blue...kinda pretty..."
And the Director's eyes bulged.
It has been a week since my escapade and escape from the Tesseraeus. I have somehow managed to survive, and little changes have begun to occur within the world (besides the ever increasing chill, of course). As of writing this, nobody has come to learn of the truth of the Tesseraeus, and how the place they hold in such high esteem is collapsing from within. In order to maintain this fragile, idle peace that to which the Didact have become acclimated, I plan upon eliminating the boundaries between the two worlds, so that the Tesseract can remain isolated.
In order to complete this however, I needed a tool; something; anything, as long as it could seal the spatial boundary. So I began to look-since that day, I have spent the last week combing through all of the information centers in the Upper and Lower Eschelons to research all kinds myths on supposedly legendary and divine weapons. It took a while, but after my quest to the Lower Eschelon’s second-largest city, Cynaetus, I came across numerous records of explorations toward the discovery of an artifact called, “Gidos.”
Based upon the information available, I have come to the conclusion that it fulfills all of the requirements for sealing and destruction. According to the most reliable document, written by Yetas himself, the artifact is indeed real. I happened to buy the article from the vendor in possession of the document (though it was expensive, even for a page of the Teachings). It reads:
The Book of Yetas, on History
If those reading this have managed to comprehend the entire seven chapters up to this point, then I salute your efforts. You have done fine work. As a reward, I shall tell you a true story, one that is an excerpt of my own life. It is the story of the Gido.
In the Tesseraeus, my people have numerous creations of unimaginable power. Some of them and their creators are in fact capable of destroying my creation within mere moments, if I did not have great influence among the highest members of our society. One of such weapons happens to be in my possession, though I know not where it lies.
Apparently, a great thief (of whom I know little) tried to steal a weapon created by the famous Gidoleus, a dear friend of mine with an imagination and intelligence that near surpassed my own. It is not in the shape of a blade, axe, hammer, spear or even a staff. In fact, it has no shape. This is its greatest quality. It could take the shape of any weapon in the Tesseraeus, even ones that could obliterate the strongest of universes with ease. Its primary components are Necromatte (an intangible substance that can only be guided and harnessed), Ultra-Condensed Gravity (UCG can turn worlds and light itself to dust) and Axium (an element that leaves the weapon in its gel-like state).
Unfortunately, because it is imbued with such power, it ended the existence of Gidoleus. In order to preserve its power, and watch over it, I have been entrusted with its safety, as well as the ability to alter it only for the sake of improvement. It was when I received this item that the thief tried to steal it, and out of paranoia I managed to hide it deep within the bowels of my own masterpiece (the Tesseract, of course!). The thief never managed to find it, but now even I have difficulty locating it from time to time. Though it was only designed to be used as a last resort-type of defense (Gidoleus was VERY paranoid about his inventions), it now shifts constantly with the bending of reality in my own creation. It always shifts location, but can always be found in the same place for a single Cycle, with the typical dying of flora serving a marker (Axium is highly toxic to flora in the Tesseract, believe me).
Closing: I leave this as a reward for anyone to obtain. Hopefully you are morally righteous to a degree, and may you use it to its fullest extent with good intentions.
After learning all of this, I decided that my quest should then be to find places where excessive amounts of flora are dying. Yesterday, it came to my attention that the towns near Zazasaki Bay (of the Lower Eschelon) have had a poor harvest for the last half-Cycle. Apparently, plants have been dying for the last half-Cycle in droves. I plan traveling there tomorrow in order to verify the rumor.
I hope that everything will turn out well.
By Sindre, on My Life
I have finally arrived at Zazasaki Bay, and the rumor is more true than I could have hoped (which is both good and bad). As the rumor stated, the towns have been suffering from a poor harvest, but the devastation is far worse than I was led to believe. Entire fields of crops are permanently withered from the Axium, and the Bay itself has been turned a toxic-looking black color (all underwater life has been killed).
This led me to believe that the source of this catastrophe will have the highest concentration of ugliness, to a point where even animal and Didact life could be affected. Therefore, I bribed a local to bring me out into the bay, where I could not find any signs of the Godi. After going out farther into the bay, I came to the realization that the bay was actually becoming even darker, the further you went towards the ocean. Though the local was frightened out of his wits, I urged him to continue. But what followed took us completely by surprise.
We eventually came to the ocean, where the blackness appeared to be spreading, and from the depths, arose another creature from ancient myth: the Leviathan.
Supposedly, the beast only brings its entire body to the surface upon provocation, but even so, the literally reared its ugly head and tentacles. Raising our boat from the water (and nearly causing a tsunami in the process), it showed us a monstrous head-a combination of a squid and shark head, with infinite rows of teeth that descended leagues below even the ocean itself. All twenty tentacles, like its body, were covered in a thick, black mud, which oozed from all of its pores. In a bellowing voice that could shatter cities, it called,
“Are you the one to claim me, insect?”
Considering it already devoured the local who attempted to run away, I could only guess that it desired to speak with me alone. “I assume that you are Gido.”
“Yes, and No. I have merely taken the body of this squid hostage, while I await for the Change to occur. In order to scare off the faint of heart, I assumed a form from one of your ancient myths, which Master Yetas had slain. I did not expect to be sought out by the likes of you.”
Okay, I will admit that a semi-sentient weapon offended me, but I responded with haste. “Well, I didn’t have a choice. You are the only weapon that I learned of that can help me destroy the spatial distortion.”
“Indeed I am. I do have those capabilities, and you appear to be a fairly decent soul, so I shall let you wield me for the time being. You will need to train, but I shall restore the damage I caused and shrink to a manageable size and form.”
Upon the utterance of the words, the ocean and Zazasaki were restored, and I was warped back to the coastline. Close to where I was standing, an old man-seemingly blind- was fumbling along the beach.
“Sir, do you need any help?”
“Nonsense; you’re the one who needs it remember?”
Taken aback by the same deep voice (though at a significantly lower volume), I fell onto the ground in shock.“But how did you-“
“You seem to forget that I was created by Gods, as were you. If I have the power to destroy worlds, I can take on a measly form such as this. Besides, I’ll need to take this form for the rest of the month that the trap you set near the rift will hold.”
“It’s the only way you can even learn to feel my power and guide me. Remember, my composition is mostly intangible to anyone but Gods, or those whom I choose to touch me. You have to learn to hold a weapon before you use it. Keep that in mind for tomorrow: you’ll need it.”
And that was how my brutal month long training session began.
Friday! This has been a great week. You've all done very well. I'm honestly a bit sad to see it go, but hopefully you guys will enjoy the next one just as much, if not more.
For today's exercise, 'other worldly' got me thinking about the 'under-world' / 'realm of the dead' which is, indeed, considered by quite a few religions as another dimension or a different plane of existence. Explain to us what kind of belief your character (any character) has about the after life.
Bonus: Write a scene with your character transcending this world / passing over into the after life. Is it the one they believed in? Is it something entirely different? Better than they dreamed or more terrifying than they could've imagined?
?Limbo is a silent, rosy, David-Lynchian forest trapped in a Twilight beneath a nuclear-wintery sky... It is bigger than all other realms put together, in fact, very few people ever find each other. Its inhabitants often spend months, or even years in solitude, (excluding the company of wildlife and sapient homunculi creatures.) before God sends them one way or another. Gonzo, our hero, has died. He used to have a religion, but he fell out of faith after the death of his parents, and then back into it after a seemingly omnipotent creature started leading him through multiple dimensions of... Well, the story gets a little long at this point, but, in order to save time and keep this thread from becoming my Silmarillion, we'll just have to say that Gonzo's been around several nightmarish worlds, all of them claiming to be Hell. He's not exactly sure which God he's been talking to, only that there is one, and it doesn't seem too angry with him, despite some of his disrespect.
Gonzo gripped the Angry Shovel as he stumbled around in the shadows. He had traveled to 6 Hells thus far, trying to keep them from taking over... But he seemed to have failed with the last one. Perhaps this was why he was here. Maybe this was the last nightmare... Too bad it would probably never end.
Gonzo struck the natural columns of the cave as he exitted into the dim, ashy sunlight, hoping to cave it in, just in case that toxic, onion-headed fiend had followed him when they died. Thankfully, there seemed to be no sign of the faceless creature, nor any sound of his crinkling, rustling skin. Unthankfully, the rocks of the cave were filled with cicadas.
Gonzo held back a gag as the things poured out of the cave, just as surprised as he was, and twice as loud. Gonzo made every attempt to silence them with his shovel, and his boots, in order to keep any inbhabitants from finding him... But it seemed there was no end to the insects that poured like blood out of the wounds he had made in the stalagtites and stalagmites. This was definitely a Hell of some kind.
He walked as quickly and quietly as he could from the buzzing caves. As his eyes adjusted to the bright light, he found that the sky was dark gray. The sun was struggling -and failing- to show through a deep rug of ash-gray storm clouds that refused to rain a drop. Below them was a forest of pure white leaves. The trees beneath them were barkless, made of glossy red walnut -looking wood, and covered with beautiful swirls, their artery roots clutched the rich, dark earth beneath them, which was covered with flourescent red grass, making the trees look brown in comparison.
At least it wasn't a forest made out of flesh and bones, like last time.
The temperature was not cold, or hot. In fact, it was a pleasant, warm temperature. That perfect temperature that one feels under their bedsheets right before they're ready to drift off to sleep. The warmth of a womb.
Gonzo walked through the rose-scented forest. He had always hated the smell of flowers, almost more than the smell of corpses. Perhaps he would have to confront horrible plant creatures as opposed to horrible meat ones...
"Do you like it? The Angry Shovel, I mean." said a voice from above him. Gonzo turned around, shovel raised combattively.
"Nah-ah-ah!" said the gibbon with a man's voice, which was sitting on a treebranch above him, "That shovel is mine, you couldn't possibly hit me with it. I'm only letting you use it because you were going to save the world with it anyway."
"Where am I?" Asked Gonzo.
"Limbo. Not bad, not good. You just sit here and wait for the world to be over so that I can decide which afterlife you get."
"But I can't be dead, not yet!"
"Because the world is doomed if I don't save it."
"Well, you didn't do a very good job. You died."
"Well, then give the shovel to somebody else!"
"That would be lame, you're the Protagonist."
"Fine then, your world is fucked, and unless you intervene personally, it'll be our fault."
"Well, then I'll make you a deal. If you can save the world, I'll give you whatever subtle influences on the worlds that you need... So long as the influence is very, very subtle. Then you can find heroes all over the dimensions and save them respectively by helping them out. I mean, you've been to most of those places, so you know exactly how to deal with things. You can be like a Nightmare World survival guide."
"Can I still time-travel?"
"Only throughout this age, as usual. And if you cheat by bringing yourself back, I swear to Me I'll send you back to the Circle of Violence for 3 years after you die for real."
"Seems worth it."
"Also, I'll make all the corpses there smell strongly of lilacs."
"Ugh... You really do know me well..."
"Now that those conditions are out of the way, you're ready to head back. The Travel Button, as well as everything else you weren't holding in your hands when you died, are in a stash on the top of the Terraced Mountain Island on the other side of this planet. You'll have to swim there yourself, but it'll be okay. You can't die here, no matter how many times you drown. Plus, you have literally all the time in the world!... And the water's really pretty at night, it glows blue."
"Terraced Mountain Island? Like the Purgatorio?"
"Certainly not! It's far too deserted and comfortable for anything of the sort. And no," the gibbon said, answering a question right before Gonzo could ask it, " If you want a canoe, you'll have to chop down one of the trees yourself. I'm trying to limit myself to 3,000 miracles a day. Times are tough, you know!"
Gonzo sighed, "Which way is the coastline?"
"Have a rest first, geez! You only just died! When the sun sets, follow it, and keep heading in that direction until you find the island. The only way to go from there is upward."
"Alright. Is there anything else you need to tell me?" Gonzo said.
"If I told you everything you needed to know, I'd be here until you died of old age. And that's really saying something, because nobody ages here!" the gibbon laughed at its own joke before leaping up and dissappearing into the leaves.
Gonzo decided that now would be a good time to look for food and firewood. He didn't actually need those things, but he may as well enjoy himself as he waited for the sun to set.
I felt my head. It was fuzzy, furry. I wasn't a dog. I had figured out long ago that I was a servant of the Egyptian God Anubis.
He was always there for me, his golden eyes peering out from the shadows. It was strange seeing him face to face, in his jackal-headed form. He was the god of the dead, always alert to carry the souls of the dead to be judged. I actually saw him once, at my sister's death.
I was only a little boy that day, consoling my little sister like the loving older brother I was. She never got on my nerves or anything else. She was very patient with me. But one day, my little sister Abbey was taken from me.
The sky was a little pink with the setting of the sunset, and she was on the swing we tied to the strong oak tree in the front yard. She swung high, high, and up. So high up I couldn't see her anymore. But when the steel swing didn't come down, I began to panic. Suddenly, I felt my bones rearranging. They crunched and bent and put themselves in different positions. I felt jackal's ears sprout from my head. My nose and mouth elongated until I only saw sideways, and my muzzle view was terrible. My eyes shifted to become wider and larger. After the transformation was complete, I raced into the sky, pawing touching nothing but running swiftly up the sky, like the sled-driver's flying reindeer. When I grabbed the swing with my clawed hands, my sister had vanished from the seat. This wasn't Anubis' doing. It was Osiris, god of the underworld and wife of the goddess of magic, Iris.
@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Deathdefender @Wolfmist @bjhovey @LeoScales7 @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @ISentinelPenguinI @GrottyStatute74 @Confused
YOUR FIRST WEEK SCORES:
(Subtractions from regular 5, 10, and 15 point additions are made for missing sentences and incomplete scenes. Keep in mind, please, that you are allowed to work on scenes / sentences for the entire week, I will count exercises that you went back and finished, but once Saturday hits, the work you've done is judged ... with the exception of this week, since my scoring is late.)
31TeV - 0
ecoLyte - 0
TheNewIAP - 5
Ogre11 - 75!
SpartacustheGreat - 0
Morgan_R - 0
Swiftstryker - 45
betaband - 0
nmelssx - 0
Sethaniel - 0
Malkalack - 25
Briar_Rose - 15
MatGods - 0
Deathdefender - 0
Wolfmist - 10
bjhovey - 0
LeoScales7 - 60
AWarriorFan - 0
FazzTheMan - 30
Claw2k11 - 0
Romulus - 5
ISentinelPenguinI - 30
GrottyStatute74 - 0
WarriorCatsRPS - 10
Confused - 5
Our Second Week Winner is: Ogre11!
Second week, second place: LeoScales7!
Second week, third place: Swiftstryker!
(O_o Deja vu. Exactly the same winners as last week.) Great effort, you guys! Sorry the scores are late this time. I'll be posting Week Three's first exercise and theme on Monday! I'm sorry I haven't caught up on my feedback yet, life's just having a field-day with my schedule at the moment. I promise, after the contest is over and I can stop dividing my attention so much, I'll catch up.
Why didn't I get any points? *glares*
Because of a typo, actually. You see, I am a human being, and we tend to make mistakes on occasion, especially when we try to do several tasks single-handedly. I meant to put down that you have 20 points, but I messed up and didn't realize it earlier. I'd be delighted to fix that error, but I can't anymore because your question locked my post. xD While I appreciate assistance with catching errors, please PM me next time instead. Anyway, congrats on your 20 points, sorry 'bout that.
st0p t4gg1ng m3 m8
It was an accident, I copied from the wrong list. :P Anyway, you're off all of 'em now.
Alright. I might jump in again, but please don't tag me for now, because I always get really excited when I see a tag, and I think 'Ooooh, what is it? It might be a-- Oh, it's just the Writing Exercises.'
Lol, aw. :( "Just the writing exercises"? xD Not feeling the love. Well, like I said, it wasn't intentional. (I could've sworn I took your name off my notes, but ... maybe it just didn't save or whatever.)
What? That's my opinion of this.
And remember that little button at the bottom of notepad that says 'Save Changes', you have to push that.
:P Clearly, and I did, but it was on my phone and the buttons on this site occasionally glitch when I'm using my phone. (It won't let me post on the forums at all, actually.)