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The Writing Thread
- Thread starter darkhorse816
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- Joined
- Mar 28, 2013
You can be the blundering yet well-beloved demon hunter! You could even get your own little series of 4-panel comics following you through your hellish experiences.
You get to be Saney's sidekick, who manages to save the day a lot of the time. Dang now this is sounding more fun than the original story lmfao
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2013
Drama isn't my forté (I got my fill of French plays in college and now can't get past the first act of Godot). Even so, I'd like to see snippets of your present work if you're up to posting them. I'm also intrigued by the idea of a CWComedy/Autistragedy. How would you do such a thing? I can imagine portrayals of key events from his life. Each scene would start (and maybe end) with what really happened. As a scene progressed, it would warp until it fit with Chris's perception. You know, kind of like the sub-episodes in Sonichu 4. Something like: Garbage bag at Wendy's growing in size until Chris can't haul it to the dumpster, then deflating to normal size/weight by the time his manager fires him. Nothing cliché, right?
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2014
I don't have access to them right now, but I'll post some bits when I'm back home.Drama isn't my forté (I got my fill of French plays in college and now can't get past the first act of Godot). Even so, I'd like to see snippets of your present work if you're up to posting them. I'm also intrigued by the idea of a CWComedy/Autistragedy. How would you do such a thing? I can imagine portrayals of key events from his life. Each scene would start (and maybe end) with what really happened. As a scene progressed, it would warp until it fit with Chris's perception. You know, kind of like the sub-episodes in Sonichu 4. Something like: Garbage bag at Wendy's growing in size until Chris can't haul it to the dumpster, then deflating to normal size/weight by the time his manager fires him. Nothing cliché, right?
Re the Chris play, it would probably cover from his discovery to the hit-and-run incident at the GAMe PLACe. A lot of it would be told in the style of Chris' fantasies, because I find the concept of someone escaping into a fantasy world to avoid the awfulness of their own life fascinating. So you'd probably get Sonichu appearing now and again, and scenes where he wins the day using his super-powers (only for the following scene to show that things actually went rather different in reality). I even considered the idea of having Chris played by two actors - one, the dumpy, grimy slob version of Chris that actually exists, and the other the handsome, muscular, deep-voiced hero of the comics. Alternatively, it might be funny to have Fat Chris getting into these massive battles with Jerkops to highlight his disconnection from reality.
I'd probably play with the timeline significantly, just for the sake of simplifying it all. I'd probably focus on the Megan saga and the Bluespike saga, others mentioned in passing and Clyde Cash as a sinister, unseen presence. Act 1 would focus on Megan, because that shows Chris at his creepiest, and it would culminate in his banning from the GAMe PLACe. Act 2 would focus on Bluespike, although it would probably be more like a mashup of several different fake-sweetheart sagas. The Miyamoto Saga might show up here as well. I want to evoke mixed feelings in the audience, to make them want him to succeed, but at the same time to get that sense that Chris' misfortunes are almost entirely his own doing.
Basically, I just think Chris provides a unique and fascinating story that acts as a warped mirror to our society and culture [/pretentious wank]
- Joined
- Oct 29, 2013
- Joined
- Oct 29, 2013
- Joined
- Mar 26, 2013
I had a conversation with a 14 year old about his book he was writing. My replies are bolded.
Am I out of line in these questions? I mean I hope I'm not.
Am I out of line in these questions? I mean I hope I'm not.
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2013
You don't sound out of line in your conversation. I'm pretty sure if the guy was to respond to a publisher, he'd better avoid responding the same way he did to you when you brought up Shyamalan.
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2013
I guess I'm a semi-professional writer; I have a day job, but I published one book with a small press and just signed a contract for another. For what it's worth, I second the prior recommendation of Absolute Write. There's a lot of good people there and they have some excellent resources, including a list of non-scam publishers that accept unagented submissions.
What sort of genres do you guys work in? I'd be curious to see how the Christorian crowd stacks up vis-a-vis drama, mystery, fantasy, etcetera.
What sort of genres do you guys work in? I'd be curious to see how the Christorian crowd stacks up vis-a-vis drama, mystery, fantasy, etcetera.
- Joined
- Mar 26, 2013
I thought I'd post a story I wrote in college back in 2012-ish.
It's probably the best story I've written thus far, mostly because all my teacher did was gush over it. Whether it's any good I'll leave that up to you guys.
It's probably the best story I've written thus far, mostly because all my teacher did was gush over it. Whether it's any good I'll leave that up to you guys.
The Rig
The chessboard was brought out again, and Reyes grimaced at the sight of it. He flicked his lighter open several times, no use really. In their absence from civilization it was hard for him to find cigarettes, and it would be hard to grow tobacco in the Arctic circle. They grouped themselves around a small poker table in one of the rooms. Still dressed in their polyester company jackets, imprinted with the logo of the Oil-co company. Reyes hadn't changed his clothes for about a week now, the heating went out a few days prior and he was having less and less energy as time went on.
"Do you want to play white or black?" Frank asked taking out the chess pieces. Reyes pointed to white without speaking, it was his favorite color to play as. The fire in the corner of the room was slowly dying and they were running out of serviceable fuel. Reyes was a security guard, and Frank was a grunt, and they both needed more men to harvest oil from the rig. That was an unfortunate impossibility considering how many bullets they wasted on the rest of their coworkers.
"Ever... been to India?" Reyes asked him, his voice faltering as he spoke. He reached into his pocket and blew his nose on a napkin. The cold was starting to get to him more then ever.
"Can't say I have..." Frank was a bigger man with a bushy mustache. He had a long black mane, and the odd habit of smiling broadly. His finely pronounced canine teeth always dripped of raw saliva as he spoke. Reyes felt cannibalism was as natural to Frank as playing chess was. It was only indicative of how they both knew this game would turn out.
"Chess was made in India..." Reyes was trying to keep himself talking to warm up, buying him time. His hands were already too preoccupied to rub together.
"Right..." He said, his face looking elsewhere for a second. He turned his head and smiled. "Well we both know how this game will end." Frank said with his booming voice. He had his tough meaty hand clutched on a brown bottle of pills he started to pop into his mouth. Frank and Reyes were the only ones left on the rig. The rest were... well they were appetizers when the supplies ran out.
"Don't push your luck... I go first." Reyes moved his knight out onto the board. His heart thudding in his chest like a jackrabbit on steroids. He was more concerned about his opponent then the game itself. Frank had a pipe wrench propped up close to his seat, as if a warning to his opponent. Reyes could only see it from the only main light source in the room besides the dying fire, a window. It had been covered with snow and forever blinded them to the outside world.
"When... do you think the supplies will start coming again?" Reyes asked him almost pleadingly. It had been several months since they last saw a supply boat.
"Why do you keep asking me that stupid? We wouldn't be playing this game if I knew." Frank chuckled to himself a little, swallowed some more pills and continued to move his pieces. He had already taken both of his knights, and was starting to move in on the rooks. "Remember, I aim to keep my promises." Frank started to look at him hungrily. Like a dog staring at a steak right outside of his cage. It frightened Reyes and he didn't know just how to react. "Tell me something Reyes. What did you think when you saw the mushroom cloud over Canada?" He asked with a strange grin approaching on his face. They could just see the coast of Canada and the Arctic with binoculars, but the cloud was unmistakable.
"I didn't believe it at first... then you told me we couldn't make it to the Arctic coast from here". There was a dinghy available on the lower deck, which was to be used in emergencies. Frank simply scoffed at him and crossed his arms.
"Not unless you want to freeze to death. It's about a kilometer from any known settlements if you make it to the coast, and even then they might be in a worse spot then we are." He moved his queen forward, into check with the white king. It forced him to sacrifice a bishop. "It's just you and me now." Reyes didn't get the feeling Frank wanted to go back to civilization. Originally the first one to speak out against "feeding" was their foreman, calling it inhuman. When they killed the site foreman he was almost livid at the idea of eating his desiccated carcass.
Playing chess removed all the stigma attached to murder, all the fear. There was a choice in it. They chose to settle it over a logical game like chess, devoid of any luck or fairness. There was only one's own wits against each other. Reyes looked at Frank and all he could see was a man who preferred to see his meat raw and frightened before it died. However, neither wanted to sleep in the same room as the other, and trying to chase the other around the 70 ft tall oil rig was just as foolish. Reyes knew, he'd seen it happen. The rest of them only backed down to the hungry security guard with a gun. The fire went out and along with that did much of the light, but the chessboard was still illuminated by the window. They were left with both of their kings, with black cornering the white. Frank cracked his knuckles as he moved his pieces forward, victory felt within his grasp.
"Well now..." he said licking his lips. "I suppose that is that." Frank reached for his pipe wrench. Reyes moved his king to the right, confusing Frank for a second. They moved back and forth for a few turns before he cast his hands down on the table. "You... you tricked me again." The kings were locked into a loop, unfortunately unable to checkmate the other.
"Quite right, we both lose." Reyes smiled. His heart beginning to slow down a little. Frank's face puffed out like a beet out of anger. His hands smashing down on the table again and again. His pill bottle of heart medication falling to the ground empty.
"Stalemate again... and again" He was almost starting to choke on his words out of anger. He clutched his heart and heaved over as he sputtered to speak. "The last... few games..." Reyes laughed a little, Frank's heart condition acting up just like he planned.
"Looks like I win" Reyes said smiling to himself as Frank collapsed in a heap of revulsion. Though in his mind he knew his former co-worker wouldn't last him very long.
The chessboard was brought out again, and Reyes grimaced at the sight of it. He flicked his lighter open several times, no use really. In their absence from civilization it was hard for him to find cigarettes, and it would be hard to grow tobacco in the Arctic circle. They grouped themselves around a small poker table in one of the rooms. Still dressed in their polyester company jackets, imprinted with the logo of the Oil-co company. Reyes hadn't changed his clothes for about a week now, the heating went out a few days prior and he was having less and less energy as time went on.
"Do you want to play white or black?" Frank asked taking out the chess pieces. Reyes pointed to white without speaking, it was his favorite color to play as. The fire in the corner of the room was slowly dying and they were running out of serviceable fuel. Reyes was a security guard, and Frank was a grunt, and they both needed more men to harvest oil from the rig. That was an unfortunate impossibility considering how many bullets they wasted on the rest of their coworkers.
"Ever... been to India?" Reyes asked him, his voice faltering as he spoke. He reached into his pocket and blew his nose on a napkin. The cold was starting to get to him more then ever.
"Can't say I have..." Frank was a bigger man with a bushy mustache. He had a long black mane, and the odd habit of smiling broadly. His finely pronounced canine teeth always dripped of raw saliva as he spoke. Reyes felt cannibalism was as natural to Frank as playing chess was. It was only indicative of how they both knew this game would turn out.
"Chess was made in India..." Reyes was trying to keep himself talking to warm up, buying him time. His hands were already too preoccupied to rub together.
"Right..." He said, his face looking elsewhere for a second. He turned his head and smiled. "Well we both know how this game will end." Frank said with his booming voice. He had his tough meaty hand clutched on a brown bottle of pills he started to pop into his mouth. Frank and Reyes were the only ones left on the rig. The rest were... well they were appetizers when the supplies ran out.
"Don't push your luck... I go first." Reyes moved his knight out onto the board. His heart thudding in his chest like a jackrabbit on steroids. He was more concerned about his opponent then the game itself. Frank had a pipe wrench propped up close to his seat, as if a warning to his opponent. Reyes could only see it from the only main light source in the room besides the dying fire, a window. It had been covered with snow and forever blinded them to the outside world.
"When... do you think the supplies will start coming again?" Reyes asked him almost pleadingly. It had been several months since they last saw a supply boat.
"Why do you keep asking me that stupid? We wouldn't be playing this game if I knew." Frank chuckled to himself a little, swallowed some more pills and continued to move his pieces. He had already taken both of his knights, and was starting to move in on the rooks. "Remember, I aim to keep my promises." Frank started to look at him hungrily. Like a dog staring at a steak right outside of his cage. It frightened Reyes and he didn't know just how to react. "Tell me something Reyes. What did you think when you saw the mushroom cloud over Canada?" He asked with a strange grin approaching on his face. They could just see the coast of Canada and the Arctic with binoculars, but the cloud was unmistakable.
"I didn't believe it at first... then you told me we couldn't make it to the Arctic coast from here". There was a dinghy available on the lower deck, which was to be used in emergencies. Frank simply scoffed at him and crossed his arms.
"Not unless you want to freeze to death. It's about a kilometer from any known settlements if you make it to the coast, and even then they might be in a worse spot then we are." He moved his queen forward, into check with the white king. It forced him to sacrifice a bishop. "It's just you and me now." Reyes didn't get the feeling Frank wanted to go back to civilization. Originally the first one to speak out against "feeding" was their foreman, calling it inhuman. When they killed the site foreman he was almost livid at the idea of eating his desiccated carcass.
Playing chess removed all the stigma attached to murder, all the fear. There was a choice in it. They chose to settle it over a logical game like chess, devoid of any luck or fairness. There was only one's own wits against each other. Reyes looked at Frank and all he could see was a man who preferred to see his meat raw and frightened before it died. However, neither wanted to sleep in the same room as the other, and trying to chase the other around the 70 ft tall oil rig was just as foolish. Reyes knew, he'd seen it happen. The rest of them only backed down to the hungry security guard with a gun. The fire went out and along with that did much of the light, but the chessboard was still illuminated by the window. They were left with both of their kings, with black cornering the white. Frank cracked his knuckles as he moved his pieces forward, victory felt within his grasp.
"Well now..." he said licking his lips. "I suppose that is that." Frank reached for his pipe wrench. Reyes moved his king to the right, confusing Frank for a second. They moved back and forth for a few turns before he cast his hands down on the table. "You... you tricked me again." The kings were locked into a loop, unfortunately unable to checkmate the other.
"Quite right, we both lose." Reyes smiled. His heart beginning to slow down a little. Frank's face puffed out like a beet out of anger. His hands smashing down on the table again and again. His pill bottle of heart medication falling to the ground empty.
"Stalemate again... and again" He was almost starting to choke on his words out of anger. He clutched his heart and heaved over as he sputtered to speak. "The last... few games..." Reyes laughed a little, Frank's heart condition acting up just like he planned.
"Looks like I win" Reyes said smiling to himself as Frank collapsed in a heap of revulsion. Though in his mind he knew his former co-worker wouldn't last him very long.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Dec 11, 2013
As I mentioned before in a different thread, I've been reading quite a lot of books about the craft of writing.
I figured I'd share the ones that really helped me out:
- Dialogue Tips and Traps by Brent Spencer
- Tell, Don't Show by James Lofquist
- Writing Fight Scenes by Rayne Hall
- Action! Writing Better Action Using Cinematic Techniques by Ian Thomas Healey
- Violence: A Writer's Guide by Rory Miller
- Elements of Style by William Strunk
- 250 Things You Should Know About Writing by Chuck Wendig
- 2k to 10k: Writing Faster, Better, and More of What You Love by Rachel Aaron
I figured I'd share the ones that really helped me out:
- Dialogue Tips and Traps by Brent Spencer
- Tell, Don't Show by James Lofquist
- Writing Fight Scenes by Rayne Hall
- Action! Writing Better Action Using Cinematic Techniques by Ian Thomas Healey
- Violence: A Writer's Guide by Rory Miller
- Elements of Style by William Strunk
- 250 Things You Should Know About Writing by Chuck Wendig
- 2k to 10k: Writing Faster, Better, and More of What You Love by Rachel Aaron
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2014
I've started working on a story based off of Jace's 30-Starbucks journey. A bit more serious than my fanfic, but not by much 
http://www.booksie.com/action_and_a...pcup/flyaway:-chasing-mattkarov/chapter/1/toc
http://www.booksie.com/action_and_a...pcup/flyaway:-chasing-mattkarov/chapter/1/toc
- Joined
- Mar 26, 2013
Part 2 with the aforementioned 14 year old. My replies are bolded
Saturday, July 26, 2014
6:49 AM - Mister Venus: Cuddlebug
6:49 AM - Mister Venus: First of all, are you even there
6:49 AM - Mister Venus: Rip
6:50 AM - Mister Venus: Well, when you come back and see this, let me just say I took your advice for my book
6:50 AM - Mister Venus: I got rid of the stupid twist and added in a twist that was stupid in a different way
6:50 AM - Mister Venus: HEY YOURE ALIVE
6:50 AM - Wo1fy: So the story doesn't start over in the sequel?
6:51 AM - Mister Venus: Nope
6:51 AM - Mister Venus: Re wrote it
6:51 AM - Mister Venus: Scrapped the last version
6:51 AM - Wo1fy: So what's the premise of the sequel now?
6:52 AM - Mister Venus: I haven't finished that yet
6:52 AM - Mister Venus: Lol
6:52 AM - Mister Venus: I'm close though
6:52 AM - Wo1fy: How long is the book going to be?
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: Hmm
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: I think
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: Maybe a little longer than a novel?
6:53 AM - Wo1fy: Novels vary in length.
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: Hmm
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: About 30 medium length chapters
6:53 AM - Wo1fy: I mean like Goosebumps books are like 200 pages long iirc and that's considered a novel
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: I consider those novelletes
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: bc those are short as FUCK
6:54 AM - Wo1fy: They're trade paperbacks. Meant to be bite sized stories for children
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: I know
6:54 AM - Wo1fy: Writing childrens stories is very good practice. I highly recommend doing it
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: I've been thinking of doing that
6:54 AM - Wo1fy: When I took a writing class we spent a few months doing childrens stories, and it was a lot more educational than I thought
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: It'd be pretty hard from me to switch over from hardcore horror and sci fi to fucking goosebumps though
6:55 AM - Wo1fy: Specifically it was all about demographics and appealing to them. I didn't really think about what kind of reader I wanted to appeal to previously
6:56 AM - Wo1fy: So how is the book going to end now?
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: Well
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: There are three protagonists
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: Who are all versions of one character
6:57 AM - Wo1fy: ...what
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: Alternate
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: UNIVERSES
6:57 AM - Wo1fy: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I5sZmkCUg...AAALE/puYavFnPHG8/s400/M._Night_Shyamalan.jpg
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: STOP
6:58 AM - Mister Venus: YOU'RE NOT FUNNY ANYMORE
6:58 AM - Mister Venus: I can write what I want to
6:58 AM - Wo1fy: and I encourage that. But lol that's just a little funny
6:58 AM - Mister Venus: It's not supposed to be a very serious story
6:59 AM - Wo1fy: Reminds me of when I was 14 and I wrote silly stories
6:59 AM - Mister Venus: It's supposed to LOOK serious but in reality it's just like dick jokes and innuendo along with some hard topics
6:59 AM - Mister Venus: Is that a poke at my age
6:59 AM - Wo1fy: yes
I've asked him to share me a copy of the story when he's ready.
Saturday, July 26, 2014
6:49 AM - Mister Venus: Cuddlebug
6:49 AM - Mister Venus: First of all, are you even there
6:49 AM - Mister Venus: Rip
6:50 AM - Mister Venus: Well, when you come back and see this, let me just say I took your advice for my book
6:50 AM - Mister Venus: I got rid of the stupid twist and added in a twist that was stupid in a different way
6:50 AM - Mister Venus: HEY YOURE ALIVE
6:50 AM - Wo1fy: So the story doesn't start over in the sequel?
6:51 AM - Mister Venus: Nope
6:51 AM - Mister Venus: Re wrote it
6:51 AM - Mister Venus: Scrapped the last version
6:51 AM - Wo1fy: So what's the premise of the sequel now?
6:52 AM - Mister Venus: I haven't finished that yet
6:52 AM - Mister Venus: Lol
6:52 AM - Mister Venus: I'm close though
6:52 AM - Wo1fy: How long is the book going to be?
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: Hmm
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: I think
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: Maybe a little longer than a novel?
6:53 AM - Wo1fy: Novels vary in length.
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: Hmm
6:53 AM - Mister Venus: About 30 medium length chapters
6:53 AM - Wo1fy: I mean like Goosebumps books are like 200 pages long iirc and that's considered a novel
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: I consider those novelletes
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: bc those are short as FUCK
6:54 AM - Wo1fy: They're trade paperbacks. Meant to be bite sized stories for children
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: I know
6:54 AM - Wo1fy: Writing childrens stories is very good practice. I highly recommend doing it
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: I've been thinking of doing that
6:54 AM - Wo1fy: When I took a writing class we spent a few months doing childrens stories, and it was a lot more educational than I thought
6:54 AM - Mister Venus: It'd be pretty hard from me to switch over from hardcore horror and sci fi to fucking goosebumps though
6:55 AM - Wo1fy: Specifically it was all about demographics and appealing to them. I didn't really think about what kind of reader I wanted to appeal to previously
6:56 AM - Wo1fy: So how is the book going to end now?
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: Well
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: There are three protagonists
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: Who are all versions of one character
6:57 AM - Wo1fy: ...what
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: Alternate
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: UNIVERSES
6:57 AM - Wo1fy: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I5sZmkCUg...AAALE/puYavFnPHG8/s400/M._Night_Shyamalan.jpg
6:57 AM - Mister Venus: STOP
6:58 AM - Mister Venus: YOU'RE NOT FUNNY ANYMORE
6:58 AM - Mister Venus: I can write what I want to
6:58 AM - Wo1fy: and I encourage that. But lol that's just a little funny
6:58 AM - Mister Venus: It's not supposed to be a very serious story
6:59 AM - Wo1fy: Reminds me of when I was 14 and I wrote silly stories
6:59 AM - Mister Venus: It's supposed to LOOK serious but in reality it's just like dick jokes and innuendo along with some hard topics
6:59 AM - Mister Venus: Is that a poke at my age
6:59 AM - Wo1fy: yes
I've asked him to share me a copy of the story when he's ready.
Last edited:
JarlaxleBaenre
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Feb 11, 2013
I am working on a fantasy story exploring the pros and cons of privatized magic. The system of magic is based on the human immune system. The major antagonistic force are veterans that were physiologically and magically augmented for integration with the CNS of lab grown dragons. These soldiers were used to round up rogue mages.
As far as nonhumans go, I have reptilians whose apparently savage culture allows them to interpret and understand the world around them.
As far as nonhumans go, I have reptilians whose apparently savage culture allows them to interpret and understand the world around them.
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2014
I'm an aspiring comic book writer myself and have written out some scripts. Here's two little writings that I've done recently that you might like.
-Black Person in the News Drinking Game
-How to Be an Edgy Writer
-Black Person in the News Drinking Game
-How to Be an Edgy Writer
- Joined
- Nov 14, 2013
I've started to write a novel. I'm at 5,666 words as of right now. I really don't know where to take it, or what major conflict there will be. Its kinda shit, but when I'm awake at 4 in the morning, its something to do.
- Joined
- Oct 29, 2013
Well, I failed to achieve my personal goal of completing my novel by the 20th. I'm still only 70 pages in. Well, I guess it takes time. For me, novels are like fucking marathons. Short stories, I could pull off with the snap of a finger, provided I'm really pumped up; they're like haikus. There are two big problems that I have: perfectionism and a lack of initiative. Not everything I write has to be seen by anyone else but me, and I need to make writing itself a habit rather than a sporadic pastime I indulge in whenever it's convenient. With my potential and skill, I could write more than just fiction. I could flesh out the Connorverse, as I call it. I could write pages and pages of character profiles, location descriptions, histories of secret societies, clubs, organizations, cabals... You get the idea. The trick is to write anything, every fucking day. Hell, if I really wanted to, I could write Cracked-style articles for this site.
- Joined
- May 27, 2013
In recent weeks, I've started the first chapter of my Grand Finale arc in that silly Pokemon fanfic I wrote up more than 3 years ago. The only reason I quit writing it was because unlike the rest of the story, the groundwork was not laid out for the past 10 years.
See, the story was based on a tabletop RPG game we did when I attended "Special School" and almost all of the characters in the story was based on a different player based on a different individual. The one named Jake was played by me. During the four months in which the game was played, certain other members of the game had started to team up and created great powers behind our backs, and this was where the main story found its roots. In real life, we all resented "Jason" for what he was doing to the game, but the Game Master went along with it.
The game never ended, when "Adam" captured Mew, hell broke loose and "Jason" and "Adam" had a big fight.
Since the game never ended, the Grand Finale arc represents the way I thought the ending of the game was going to be like, it was known that Jason created a base in a hidden jungle, and I already know how he will be thwarted.
The biggest question always remains, how can I compose this?
http://akantonretelling.blogspot.com
See, the story was based on a tabletop RPG game we did when I attended "Special School" and almost all of the characters in the story was based on a different player based on a different individual. The one named Jake was played by me. During the four months in which the game was played, certain other members of the game had started to team up and created great powers behind our backs, and this was where the main story found its roots. In real life, we all resented "Jason" for what he was doing to the game, but the Game Master went along with it.
The game never ended, when "Adam" captured Mew, hell broke loose and "Jason" and "Adam" had a big fight.
Since the game never ended, the Grand Finale arc represents the way I thought the ending of the game was going to be like, it was known that Jason created a base in a hidden jungle, and I already know how he will be thwarted.
The biggest question always remains, how can I compose this?
http://akantonretelling.blogspot.com
- Joined
- Aug 30, 2014
Some thing I did for a class project
I am the watcher.
I am the naked prince in the sky.
I am the puppet master.
I am Vaaljeta, master of deceit!
Death had no effect
Upon the old ones and I.
We arrived upon a measly green planet called earth by its heretic plant-like beings.
Needless to say, we converted them all.
We ruled over all.
Those days were those to sing about.
They were days of legends.
Now the stars have died.
We are dead.
Yet I am still alive.
Yet I still reign.
Yet I still manipulate.
The minds of the meek are the minds of me.
The minds of the old ones belong to me.
The old ones are still alive.
Chaos will soon reign from each and every pore of my naked
Faceless
Hollow-eyed
Filth-crawling
Mind-Raping
Visage!
I am Vaaljeta!
The stars will align!
The stars shall align!
It is my will!
They are simply my puppets to toy with!
It is my will alone that will create certain death for all!
Chaos will be the lone survivor!
I will reign over all in my blood-cloaked throne of horrors
Watching all
Panic and shiver!
Clint Marsupial finished reading the tablet. It was a dark and dreary day in the city of witch-haunted Arkham and a deathly hush surrounded everyone. Recently, several men were found in the streets of Arkham cloaked in blood and robes. Among the bodies a copy of this parchment and a copy of the horrible tome, The Necronomicon were found amongst this carnage. Clint called people who were there on the scene of the crime and none responded. Clint asked people about what was going on and none had a clue. He figured it was just the air bringing out people’s weirdness at first but he was a private eye. Private eyes were supposed to know more about these unnatural happenings. However, Clint Marsupial couldn’t figure anything out any time he tried to figure something out. It was as if something was controlling him. Something was controlling him in fact. That something was controlling everyone. That something was eating people from inside from its nonexistent mouth. That something was destroying sanity with its visage of a naked man.
A naked man floating in space.
A naked man floating in space holding eyeballs in his arms
` A mouthless, naked man floating in space holding eyeballs in his arms
A mouthless, naked man floating in space holding eyeballs in his arms waiting for the day when they will return, influencing thoughts and manipulating minds so none will know
When chaos reigns again!/
I am the naked prince in the sky.
I am the puppet master.
I am Vaaljeta, master of deceit!
Death had no effect
Upon the old ones and I.
We arrived upon a measly green planet called earth by its heretic plant-like beings.
Needless to say, we converted them all.
We ruled over all.
Those days were those to sing about.
They were days of legends.
Now the stars have died.
We are dead.
Yet I am still alive.
Yet I still reign.
Yet I still manipulate.
The minds of the meek are the minds of me.
The minds of the old ones belong to me.
The old ones are still alive.
Chaos will soon reign from each and every pore of my naked
Faceless
Hollow-eyed
Filth-crawling
Mind-Raping
Visage!
I am Vaaljeta!
The stars will align!
The stars shall align!
It is my will!
They are simply my puppets to toy with!
It is my will alone that will create certain death for all!
Chaos will be the lone survivor!
I will reign over all in my blood-cloaked throne of horrors
Watching all
Panic and shiver!
Clint Marsupial finished reading the tablet. It was a dark and dreary day in the city of witch-haunted Arkham and a deathly hush surrounded everyone. Recently, several men were found in the streets of Arkham cloaked in blood and robes. Among the bodies a copy of this parchment and a copy of the horrible tome, The Necronomicon were found amongst this carnage. Clint called people who were there on the scene of the crime and none responded. Clint asked people about what was going on and none had a clue. He figured it was just the air bringing out people’s weirdness at first but he was a private eye. Private eyes were supposed to know more about these unnatural happenings. However, Clint Marsupial couldn’t figure anything out any time he tried to figure something out. It was as if something was controlling him. Something was controlling him in fact. That something was controlling everyone. That something was eating people from inside from its nonexistent mouth. That something was destroying sanity with its visage of a naked man.
A naked man floating in space.
A naked man floating in space holding eyeballs in his arms
` A mouthless, naked man floating in space holding eyeballs in his arms
A mouthless, naked man floating in space holding eyeballs in his arms waiting for the day when they will return, influencing thoughts and manipulating minds so none will know
When chaos reigns again!/
- Joined
- Oct 29, 2013
I got bored with working on Eva all the time, so last night, I took out a five-subject notebook and began to write this. It's stream-of-consciousness, from the perspective of a seven year-old named Max Vanhorn.
DAY ONE - MAX - FRIDAY 7:20 AM-ish
Mother got a letter in the mail yesterday after school. Everyday, when we come here, she always checks the mailbox. Sometimes, I try to ask her what she's looking for, but I keep my mouth shut. One of Mother's rules is that I don't talk until someone speaks first. Every time she tells me about a rule, she asks "Got it?" Every time she says that, I'm supposed to nod. If I don't, I'll be in trouble. She'll be angry. Even if I don't understand, I nod anyways.
"Good," she says every time I nod.
It's a new day of school. Today is Friday. Mother is driving me to school, like she always does. She hasn't said a word to me since she got that letter. She's too quiet. The sun is going higher in the sky. I'm in the backseat of the car. She hasn't looked at me. She's just staring at the road. Right next to me is my backpack. MAX is written on it. That's my name.
Max. M-A-X.
Vanhorn. V-A-N-H-O-R-N.
I'm seven years old, and I'm in the first grade.
I ask Mother if she wants to talk.
She says, "No."
We drive a bit longer until we get to the school. There's no real big kids there like other school. It's just five grades.
The car has stopped now. Mother and I can see other kids going inside. I don't know why she isn't looking at or talking to me. I'm looking out the window and I'm about to put my backpack on when all of a sudden, Mother turns around in her seat.
"Max. Look at me."
I do what she tells me to do, like a good little boy should.
"I don't want to hear a word of trouble when I come to pick you up. You do what the teacher tells you to do, no questions asked. You should do good, whatever it is. Got it?"
This time, I don't nod.
Mother gets this look on her face. She's not angry, but you can tell she isn't happy. "You want to get kicked out? You want me to lose my job?"
I shake my head.
"Don't be a problem child, Max. Don't even try, because you have no choice. You may think in your little head that you do, but life begs to differ. You know what happens to problem kids, Max? They end up in three different places: the streets, jail, or in a body bag. So go ahead and try to fight it. You're a problem kid in my book, Max. I know it for a fact, and I bet that you do, too. Now get out."
Mother got a letter in the mail yesterday after school. Everyday, when we come here, she always checks the mailbox. Sometimes, I try to ask her what she's looking for, but I keep my mouth shut. One of Mother's rules is that I don't talk until someone speaks first. Every time she tells me about a rule, she asks "Got it?" Every time she says that, I'm supposed to nod. If I don't, I'll be in trouble. She'll be angry. Even if I don't understand, I nod anyways.
"Good," she says every time I nod.
It's a new day of school. Today is Friday. Mother is driving me to school, like she always does. She hasn't said a word to me since she got that letter. She's too quiet. The sun is going higher in the sky. I'm in the backseat of the car. She hasn't looked at me. She's just staring at the road. Right next to me is my backpack. MAX is written on it. That's my name.
Max. M-A-X.
Vanhorn. V-A-N-H-O-R-N.
I'm seven years old, and I'm in the first grade.
I ask Mother if she wants to talk.
She says, "No."
We drive a bit longer until we get to the school. There's no real big kids there like other school. It's just five grades.
The car has stopped now. Mother and I can see other kids going inside. I don't know why she isn't looking at or talking to me. I'm looking out the window and I'm about to put my backpack on when all of a sudden, Mother turns around in her seat.
"Max. Look at me."
I do what she tells me to do, like a good little boy should.
"I don't want to hear a word of trouble when I come to pick you up. You do what the teacher tells you to do, no questions asked. You should do good, whatever it is. Got it?"
This time, I don't nod.
Mother gets this look on her face. She's not angry, but you can tell she isn't happy. "You want to get kicked out? You want me to lose my job?"
I shake my head.
"Don't be a problem child, Max. Don't even try, because you have no choice. You may think in your little head that you do, but life begs to differ. You know what happens to problem kids, Max? They end up in three different places: the streets, jail, or in a body bag. So go ahead and try to fight it. You're a problem kid in my book, Max. I know it for a fact, and I bet that you do, too. Now get out."