A bard, a poisoner, a dominant lover... I can be everything you want. If you sell your soul to me.
"If you're going through hell, keep going.” Winston Churchill
You are Sera, a best-selling author who goes to a luxurious spa on a natural park on Maine until Nature happens. And Sera have to go through her own personal hell. Dead, betrayal, old gods and demoniac voices.
DISCLAIMER SWEARS, VIOLENCE allusions to sex and gore. No for children
Special thanks to Shadowdrake27 and CYS Discord.
This is my entry to the Year's End Contest. My prompt consists of Create a fantasy or science fiction world from scratch. The story must include a map of the relevant locality.
In a world in which everyone has powers that the rest of the Galaxy considers sacred, heroes fight every year to death to become God and create their own planets ...
But that's not your case, you stand a humble space janitor cleaning up the arena day after day. Until something changes your life forever.
Would you go partying to space cruisers, bet on fighting pits or battle for your life against a psychotic clown? Will you create your own planet and become a god? or would you continue with your boring life?
Thanks to my proofreaders and Shadowdrake
The choice asks about Loom, same as The name Scumm bar are easter eggs, inspired by the Game Monkey Island.
This is my project for Saint Valentine's Day writing jam. With a limit of 2,000 words. It has 4 endings.
You are in a bunker down Venetia, after human extinction. And you have to deal with that fact, loneliness and need of love.
I want to give specific thanks to @Killa_zilla and @TheDeadKin for proofreading for me.
I make this to participate in a 1,000 words limit contest with the theme Environment. You are The Galactic empire Lord Worldslayer preparing to consume until the last drop of your 53 planet
Elvis the roster
Segway to heaven
Humour satire for my writing Jam in Saint Valentine's Day. Max 2,000 words.
Thanks for proofreading to @3iguy
Re-edit with grammar fixes and title.
The Revenge of Turkey Loco
Kansas 50s a farm in the middle of nowhere. An experimental Turkey plots its revenge against the human who kills its mother.
on 3/25/2020 5:57:54 PM
I think they are indicating where they are pointing like in a shooter game
IWT 13: The Resurrection
on 3/25/2020 7:18:39 AM
Well, my first gamr for the contest is done and Public in IS but I need proofreaders if someone wants to try it The cursed night
I hope have the second one ended next week.
on 3/17/2020 12:11:01 AM
I want tag @Camelon and @Killa_robot
on 3/17/2020 12:05:11 AM
The sacrificial tower is the pinnacle of the Tribal power over the wasteland, it is encircled by the numerous shrines blood of our enemies and cremated animals to calm the Metal's spirits.
And from there in the blood moon night, The tribal chief solemnly commences his proclamation to the hundreds of Tribes over the Asphalt:
"The Tribes and the city are languishing again like every 100 cycles of years. The Bee plague is here. However, fear not, my tribal brothers and sisters."
He makes one of those dramatic pauses, he loves to practise in front of multiple mirrors in his speeches practice room. Then your dad continues with his famous passionate furore that ignites the hearts of the Tribes:
Our better youth warriors will descend into the Metal and steel's bowels of the Sacred Vault to calm the ancients accompanied by an official City Wizard to fulfil our sacred alliance!"
You then turn your attention to your company in this private balcony in the tower. Beside you, Laurel the magician from capital smirk sarcastically looking your father speech from his private hologram screen, and like the entire day you have been escorting him, he remains mostly silent. Probably the village doesn't pay him enough to converse with illiterate trash.
He smiles at you clearly he has noticed your gaze. Sadly, his virginal bitch attitude with his beautiful white teeth and his dreamy blue eyes... That beautiful pale skin typical of the people of the rich city of Steel; Beyond the radiation storms and the desert of asphalt that are the realm of the tribes.
You shake your head trying to forget those impure thoughts. He doesn't seem to be the flirting type.
Your father ends up his speech. Clamour and shouts of encouragement echo throughout the village made by the metallic bones of old New Reno; you head towards the interior of the sacrificial tower penthouse built with the remains of cars and go near your father: "Great speech father. I am very proud that you have chosen me to ..."
Your father frowns his single thick brow again giving him an even more simian appearance:
"Flamboyant Flummery! The city has forced me to send you into danger die those damned powers you have inherited from your Urban mother! Brittania, you should stay here, safe. You are the heir of the thousands of tribes under Steel and Flame."
You don't have time to even reply to your stern parent. As the loudspeaker bellows at full power Resounding through the steel and cement of the great wall: **"ATTENTION! THE SWARMS ATTACK! EVERYONE IN POSITION"**
You can't help but giggle. Combat is the most fun part of your life, sensing in your entire body the speed of your motorcycle, killing your foes smelling their burning engines and seeing them explode in a mini nuclear detonation.
However, this time your enemies are the mighty bionic insects of the Ancient's plague; you hope they are ready because you certainly are.
Your father is rapidly taken away to safety by his loyal guards. Now, it is time for you to move on.
You scream at Laurel you want to see how a graduate magician fights: "Come on, Urban! We have to go before all the fun is over!"
After evacuating, the massive building, both of you find yourselves amidst the chaos in the huge central square, where civilians try to get into the communal anti-bee shelters, being helped in the possible by the Tribal warrior clans.
Looking to the nervous stare of Laurel you slow your pace a little: "Do you know how to pilot a war chopper, Wizard?" You ask while both enter in the enormous barracks and Tribal hangars.
He is sweaty, almost out of his breath. Mages are not used to hardship. You think while look the perfect smooth hands and nails Laurel has. He finally in the last elevator is well enough to answer to your response: "No.. we use cars or AMU-droids"
Finally, in your squad Hangar, you can turn your eyes on the powerful engine of Babieca your Harley Davidson with handmade plated armour and two propulsion system nuclear power engine
Tibba your second runs in and sweating with his Gunner armour already on:
"Pff, is the wizard still here? Don't tell me the baby is going to accompany us to fight the Waxers?!"
"Waxers? Laurel asks, to your surprise he seems genuinely interested in the term.
You cut your second's complaints by raising your hand. Tibba can be a very good officer, but his big mouth is going to be his downfall:
"Laurel, Waxers are the name of the people addicted to the red honey they become mind-controlled by the hive mind. They are not dangerous except now when they explode becoming a toxic chemical swarming of bots. And Tibba, we are his caretakers. Father asked me not to lose sight of him at any time no matter what happens. So, the magician is coming to war!"
Tibba looks at him with a clear contempt:
"At least you will know what the nano bees plague is and how it's created, and put that in your City sacred book. What is its name?
"City hearts" He just mumbles with he is a believer.
He just starts to convey the City heart When a human being is infected for 4 years it is asymptomatic, except the sex-driven tendencies and pheromones more attractive spreading the infection after that time, the fever takes over and they collapse and their bodies and organs burst. Half organic, half metallics nanobots, bees, they arise attacking humans without mercy in order of eating them and creating their beehives and their special blood honey.
"Put the helmet on, Mage! We are going for a wild ride."
Tibba just squeals thinking about the incoming battle: "The Plasma Machine Gun platform sidecar is now attached to Babieca, Boss."
You hop into Babieca followed by Laurel reading his spells.
LET'S THE PARTY START IT!
OUTBREAK FEVER Writing Jam!
on 3/16/2020 5:13:26 PM
It has a big potential to be a great engaging story. However, the beginning with Mark doesn't work for me all about his red hear and thT for a second I thought I was banging him or it was a love story. So maybe stating describing the ship could be more engaging
Still, I would love seeing more of the story
OUTBREAK FEVER Writing Jam!
on 3/15/2020 6:26:31 AM
Poor me. I am in too many projects and for The IS contest. Still, I will try to write something
InfiniteStory Resurrection Contest Motivation
on 3/14/2020 8:35:33 AM
I feel like trash, I mean I worked hard on several projects to have something to present to the contest, but it is shit so I won't present anything to embarrass myself further. In, But I cheer for you.
Covid20 - continuing thingy
on 3/11/2020 1:30:10 AM
I want grabbing cold medicine and some other stuff create a fake remedy. And Con art my neighbors
The Disappointment Periodical II
on 3/10/2020 2:06:01 PM
My grandmother was the most badass tought Old lady in history, she raised me with my dad. She died of terminal cancer in 2014 she survived more years than any doctor expected due her iron will. She survived Spanish civil war famine and several big epidemics. Working with her mother alone in the middle of a war to maintain another 3 small siblings.
She worked on the land and tend animals until last years. Without bullshit or whining about it. Except against lettuces. Her great nemesis.
The Disappointment Periodical II
on 3/10/2020 1:39:29 PM
I found it fascinating because I come from ancestors upon the ancestors of Small farmers in Galicia. And they didn't want to eat fruit or vegetables just picked up. They normally waited for the perfect mature moment to eat the stuff. To the point, my grandmother and her sister just frozen the peas one month before eating them because the variety was tasty but hard to cook. and frozen make faster the boiling.
The only people obsessed with FRESH DIRECT FROM THE MUD is hippies and hipsters that haven't seen a farm in their lives.