Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

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So, if I've got it right, were supposed to write a short story and smeone might will draw the scenery.

Is that right?

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Here's an quick example of something I've been working on privately. It will probably not go into the general continuity of the finished piece but I feel it gives a taste of the general feel of whats to come. The idea is a mixture of Tarantino-style narration/themes but set in a WOW-like fantasy world. I also take inspiration from the comic series, THE BOYS, which some of you may have heard of.

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I took a deep, deep, drag on the pipe and bent over the base of the pillar, continuing my work. The smoke off the Mandur pipe calmed my senses, helped me to relax. There was a time when I didn't need the sweet, sweet herb, but with age comes mistakes, and I wasn't about to be the old asshole who fucked up and killed the whole crew. It was a simple enough operation, you just had to make sure you didn't make some dumbassed mistake. I gently wafted away the purple smoke which had gathered around my head, and inspected the package.

There were three main parts to the bomb. A red, detonative magic stick, easily procured on the black market, a highly flammable blue herb known as Kinshin root, to be smeared all over the stick, and the important part, 15 grams of Hintan black powder in a brown pouch to be attached to the bottom of the stick. As I said, a simple procedure. But bomb-making requires two important factors: A knack for doin' this kind of shit, and a steady hand. I had the first, and was pretty sure I had the second, but the Mandur was there just in case I caught the shakes.

"Will you hurry the fuck up already you old bastard? I'll be older than you are by the time we're out of these fuckin' sewers."

"Hey, calm the fuck down Zabur, you crazy Galloran prick. And watch your fuckin' mouth with that kinda language. Imagine if momma could hear the words comin' outta ya' mouth right now, she'd fuckin' kill herself she would."

"Aw, shut the fuck up Belur!"

Zabur and Belur, two elf brothers from the south side of Alyyser, the immigrants side. They'd grown up in the Murtim district, Galloran-Town. They were kid thieves and now they're fully grown rogues/mercenaries. The younger one, Zabur, has a bit of a fuckin' mouth on himself, but Belur tends to keep it shut most of the time.

"How 'bout both of you shut the fuck up and let me concentrate on this fuckin' bomb before we all get incinerated!" I yelled.

"You heard the man you scrawny shit, keep your fuckin' voice down before I have to beat the shit outtya."

"I'd like to see ya try ya fat faggot!"

"Um, guys, maybe we should, um, keep our voices down. We don't want to attract no unwanted attention, is all I'm sayin'."

The nervous little shit lookin' all awkward in the corner was some magi type called Estellix. Well, I say magi in that he used to be before he got pissed at some governmental fatcat's party and accidentally blew up the Prime Wizards Pegasus. Naturally he got the shit kicked out of him, his titles removed and his ass kicked out on the street. He was just a merc now, the only thing separatin' him from the two brothers was that he could set a fucker on fire by pointin' a stick at 'em.

"Aw shut ya' mouth you fuckin' pussy. What ya' so fuckin' jumpy for anyways?"

"Uhh... em... well... it's just that we ain't exactly in the safest a' places right about now and I'd like to get out a' here without gettin' inta' any trouble, ya' know?"

It was hard to believe that, out of the four of us, little Esty was the most vital member of the group. Any bastard can make a bomb, but it takes somethin' special to enchant somethin'. There's no point in makin' a bomb this powerful if you can't set it off from a long way away, and that whiny bitch in the retarded lookin' purple robe had the means to do so. He simply had to paint a fire rune on the stick and, when the time was right, activate it.

"Listen!" I shouted, gettin' a bit ticked off. "You can either learn to shut your goddamn mouths, or you can continue your fuckin' sewin' circle in another fuckin' room, because I am tryin' to do the job we are ALL gettin' payed for right now, and would appreciate it if you gave me some peace to do it in!"

"Alright Josey! Alright! No need to get ya' tampon in a twist." that smart-assed little shit Zabur said. A quick crack over the head with the hilt of Belur's knife got him to finally shut up.

I got inta' the job then, workin' away at the bomb. We were in the sewers and our job was to plant a bomb at the base of this particular support pillar which just so happened to be located under some high-up magi type who had obviously made some enemies in his rise to power. We were in a little room just off a main sewer line. A small drain high above us let in the only light and slowly dripped in water from the street.

My sweaty overalls contrasted with the brothers' leather gear and knives and Esty's queer-assed sparkly robe. I'd been in the bomb-makin' business for a while and I'd gotten used to the old thing. It was covered in pouches full of tools, special ingredients and a little knife just in case things happened to get rough.

This job didn't seem too likely to get rough though. I'd gotten the guard schedules from a pretty reliable source, and everything was goin' accordin' to plan, which is always a pretty damn good sign that everthin's about to go ta' shit.

I'd just about finished with the bomb. I'd tied the pouch to the greased up stick without too much trouble. The Mandur had helped a lot. The brothers had given up guardin' the doorway after we'd all pretty much figured nobody was comin' and had started playin' dice. We had all let our guards down like fuckin' amateurs.

I was holdin' the bomb up in the light, checkin' that the stick wasn't cracked, when I heard the crossbow click.

"Put your fucking hands in the air!"

He had the voice of a kid, he couldn't have been more that fifteen, sixteen. This was bad.

"I said put your fucking hands in the air cocksucker!"

I could here his voice crackin'. This was really, really bad.

"You have a hearing problem or something faggot?"

"I hear ya', I hear ya'." I said nice and slow. I had to be careful here, this kid was nervous as hell. Most sewer guards lived their lives without seein' a bit of action, and here he was, probably still learnin' the ropes, dealin' with a full team a' mercs.

I stood up slowly and calmly, raisin' my arms in the air.

"What the fuck is that?" the kid shouted. I looked up at my right hand still holdin' the bomb.

"Kid, I need you to take it easy or a lot of us might die today..."

"Shut the fuck up! What the fuck is that?"

Quickly I turned around, starin' the kid in the eyes. He jumped back, his finger shakin' on the trigger.

"Stop fucking moving you piece of shit! Stop right there or I'll kill you right here I swear to god I'll fucking do it!"

I could see his eyes now. This boy didn't want to kill. I'd guessed right in the age, only 15 or 16, too young for this kind of shit. He looked stupid in that armor a size too big.

"Kid, you've got to relax. You don't want to kill anybody today."

"Shut up! Drop whatever the fuck that is and put your hands behind your fucking head!"

"Listen boy, I'm not gonna hurt ya', but if I drop this packet it'll blow us all to fuck, and I'm not gonna do that. So you just relax and let me crouch down nice and slow and place it on the ground. And then I'll stand back up, and then we can talk nice and calm."

I could see tears in his eyes. He was nothin' but a fuckin' child, he didn't want any death on his conscience.

"Okay. Okay just no sudden movements okay?"

"Okay..." I said, and time froze as I bent towards the ground.

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<Please excuse the ridiculous length and continue on in the next post :)>

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<Continued on from last post, sorry again for the length but I felt this was the only was to do it justice plus I have serious issues with editing.>

I bent closer and closer toward the ground, never breakin' eye contact with the kid. I could hear the crossbow rattlin' as he tried to steady it, and I silently prayed that neither of the brothers would do anythin fuckin stupid and just keep still while I bent lower and lower. I gently placed the bomb on the ground, my heart bangin' inside my chest despite the Mandur I could still taste in my breath. I stood up just as slowy, never breakin' eye contact with the kid. This was an extremely delicate situation.

I was finally level with the boy again.

"Okay, its down there now, you can relax."

The kid let out a shaky breath and his grip on the bow relaxed a little.

I saw Estellix move from the corner.

A flash of white light came out a' the staff as it cracked into the right side of the boy's head and his brains burst out the left side. He dropped with a thud and the smell of burnin' flesh began to fill the airless sewers. I saw the blank, confused expression on the boys face and had ta' turn away. I saw Estellix. He looked like a ghost. His face was pale and his lips were shakin'. He'd never killed before, I could tell.

"I... I killed 'em... He's d-dead now. I killed... I-I killed..."

"Yeah... Yeah ye' did. Ya' had no choice. Shit just happens like that sometimes."

Estellix just stood there, staring at the kid's scorched brains, stuck to the wall.

"Boys, clean this shit up and hide the body. We leave in half an hour."

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Thats my submission anyway. Sorry its so long but I felt that it needed as much length as possible. Please respond with artwork, it would be cool to see the images I thought up portrayed by a different artist (One who can actually draw :) ).

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so...all of a sudden, you're walking through the park, and you see something white and black swimming in the pool...you walk over to it, and all of a sudden, A TIGER JUMPS OUT AT YOU AND SWIPES AT YOU'RE FACE!

I'd love to see this drawn xD

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Well... here I go.

~X~

*Show black screen*

*Unknown voice*: At the heart of it all, we are stupid people.

*screen flashes to a wide skyscape, where all is grey, as it is pouring down a heavy, buffeting sheet of rain*

*Unknown voice, continuing*: Stupid....

*lightening strikes in the distance, then right in front of the camera*

*U.V., continuing*: Violent...

*Thunder sounds at a deafining volume, and red fissures glint in the clouds. The rifts disappear before their presence is noticed*

*U.V., continuing*: Arrogant...

*A raindrop falls into view, clear as day.*

*U.V., continuing*: Evil...

*Camera follows the raindrop's descent, which is rather long.*

*U.V., continuing*: Undestroyed...

*U.V., finishing*: I just wish the rest of us knew *slight pause* what I know...

*The raindrop vaporizes in a puff before it hits the ground, and the camera swoops to the right and up the dark, cloaked form of a black-haired man(The hair isn't long, but it's sort of sculpted around the head into three waves atop his crown(not an actual crown, the top of his head))*

*The man scowls, grimaces, then begins limping forward, the camera panning out. As the camera retreats, the man's eyes glow with a purple fire, which quickly vanishes, and we see a glowing orange goo sticking to his clothes. It seems to move a little.*

*The man limps across a pulpy field, with medieval-looking thatched houses in the distance. We see a graveyard a little behind the limping man*

*Camera closes in on the man's foot(which one is up to you), and we see a glob of the orange gook flop onto it. A rather aggressive acidic hiss is heard. The man yells in pain, and starts limping faster.*

*Unknown voice* *Camera moves to the man's mouth, and it's kinda obvious who the owner of the voice is(unless you're stupid)*: Undestroyed... and we aren't going to be yet!

*The camera pans out again as the man starts a gimpy run, panting and huffing and grunting in pain*

*The Dark Man*: "All the gods forgive my prying. Heavens seperate me from my blasphemy." Oh, that is pure groveling, and I shall not bend my knee. Not to king *grunt*, not to prophet, not to angel *grunt and curse*, and never to demon. And so shall I die.

*As the man keeps up his rapid gimp, he rushes to a deep blue(like navy), narrow river. He pauses, briefly, looking around. Finding what he wanted, he recommences with even greater energy to a simple wooden bridge. He hops across it, and into a recently-sown field.*

*The man seems to become dizzy, and almost flies through the air as he falls forward, into the field. The man shudders, and then his body sinks into the ground, the soil shuddering subtly*

*The Dark Man's Voice, in a hoarse whisper*: You shall never rise... Na'Krul.

*The ground seals over the body.*

~X~

That was generally how I pictured the prologue of the game "Hellfire". It's up to you to decide if you want to use this at all.

It's presented in a scripted manner, so it should be pretty easily translateable into a short movie.

Do with it as you will, I give you my express permission.

Reply if you wanna...

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I am a Screenwriter from Boston. I have been looking for animators for a 22 minute sketch comedy I have whipped up. each sketch is under or about 60 seconds. I have the sketches scripted in professional format. Is anyone game to jump on a project?

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Howdy do yall. i'mma throw my hat into the ring and post somthing here. I've got my general idea and ima free write around that, like i do everything.
Here i go.
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Darkness, or maybe not, perhaps somone meticulously painted everyting black. Well what ever the reason , I cannot see. I must be asleep. No, I don't remember going to bed. For that matter i don't remember much at all of what happened before i got here. Maybe i'm dead. What a lame heavon this turned out to be! I went to church, i was good in school, hell i its not like i'm ever going to have pre-maridal sex, I haven't even had my first kiss yet. No, i can feel my heartbeat, but what is that pressure on my chest? For that matter, what is that noise? There must be people all around me! I hear Tony. That fat slob's deep baratone echos constantly from beneath his perpetualy stained wife-beater, if not allitle muffled by food. Angela is here too. Her flowing black hair and her perfectly round body. The subtle curbs she elegantly hid from everyone under her size six dress drove me crazy at the dance last friday. It's not like i have a chance with her. The closest i ever got to seeing her body was underneath her tiny, blue, two peice swim suit she wore when she went swimming in the school pool after soccer practice was over, she never saw me watching in the old willow tree that hung lazily over the water. The janitor hated that tree. There was never a time where the school pool wasn't covered in debris from the old tree's withered branches. She was very close, I could hear her clear as day. There was another voice very close to me. I don't quite know this person, but she was definately familiar. Why is she counting? One, Two, Three. One, Two, Three. WOAH! What is she doing? Her lips against mine? I can't beleive it. My first kiss. I just wish i could see who it was. I'll just go with it. A first time is a first time and i'm not going to waiste mine. Too bad I can't move. What a curse to have your first kiss compeletely immobile and, and, and she stopped. Thats it? not exactly what the movies made it out to be. There she goes counting again. One, Two, Three. One, Two, Three. Woah! My second kiss! Two in the same day! She must realy like me. I can move allitle. I have to make this one special, gotta keep her guessing. Mabe some tongue? or maybe she wants allitle grab? Why be stingey, i mean it is out second kiss, why not do both? Here goes nothing.
OUCH.
The colors of the wall outside of the gym were smacked into clarity. I could see now, but I wish I could go back to the darkness. I know who that voice was, Shirly Scotte, the smokin' hot Gym Teacher was stradled over me. I could feel how red my cheek was with a bright crimson hand-print strewn across my face. Surounded by my Gym class in bathing suits and bakinis. The entire school just saw me drown and then kiss the hottest teacher in the school, while she was giving me CPR, and grab her perfectly round, plump, bright-orange one-peice covered breast. Lord knows i'll never live this down, but hey, it was totaly worth it.
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Starts out kinda an intuitive internal monologue but then a nice twist for yah. Hope yall like it.

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My eyes met hers in the midst of the dancing. She looked as beautiful as the day I first saw her. Her inky hair ending at her shoulders, shining ever so brightly against the ambience of the hall, and her olive skin, I imaged silky to a man's touch. I could not resist my longing to approach her, to watch her smile again, in the way she always did. To inhale her fragrance, such a subtle scent, causing havoc in my heart.

But I was afraid, and my composure was ill. My soul un-kept and my pants were stained. My life evolved into a lustful symphony of nothing. Craving so much in human passion, yet returning so little. Drowning in the sea of material pursuit, my eyes were blind. I turned to ask the bartender to pour another shot, straight into the downward spiral.

When I looked back the angel was gone, disappearing in the sea of swaying couples. I cursed myself; because of this fruitless poison my life is crumbling. I tried getting up; my legs barely holding my posture. The ground below was shifting; with every step I took the world swirled around me, a drunkard's dance. As I moved along the ocean of couples, familiar faces where staring. I would smile every once and while. And frown at those I hated.

Until there she was, surrounded by suitors. And like hungry wolves, starving for her warm flesh. It was enough for me to watch her. As she sat quietly, shoving away the men around her. Just managing to keep them at bay.

But then I saw the unthinkable. One of the wolves's flashed its teeth at her, its brother saw the cue, and together they grabbed her. She struggled to get away but she could not. Terror flashed in her eyes. In my sluggish withdrawal I slumbered towards them, struggling to keep my footing. When I was close enough I threw myself grabbing one by the neck. He immediately released her and began to struggle trying to liberate himself from my grip. Landing punches throughout my face, numb thuds they where, such is the beauty of alcohol.

The colors in his face changed away, bright red turned to blue and blue to pale white. Till finally his eyes rolled inward into his head. In my moment, not realizing I took the wolf's life. I got up to face the other .Our eyes met. His were like fire, raging with hatred towards mine. He reached into his pocket, pulling something dark and metallic.

I saw it as it rose towards me; firmly taking aim in my direction. My eyes knew what it was, so did she, who turned towards me and screeched. Oh how dazzling she was I thought, I smiled warmly at her.

That night my brain was the last to react. It saw one flash; feeling a hot knife piercing the top of its skull.

Then, I knew no more.

That's my little piece :)

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It's story time mofos.
I brought this out of the vault.
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I am the eight second model of an elite line of assassin androids. There was originally one of us, now there is only one remaining. I am the last of my kind, the last of the WPB's. We were originally programmed a target (usually a criminal of some sort) due to us being a government project. Of course once my brothers' bodies started showing up (a result of a failed assassination) the project had to be destroyed. But the government decided to end us in style. We were sent on a mission to destroy the largest drug operation in the world. 84 of us went in, only one made it out. Initially we were all supposed to die; it was a suicide mission that would have a high chance of success. Our A.I. wasn't supposed to do well in close range combat, the type of fight we went into. But we could adapt, and it seems I adapted the quickest seeing that I'm the only one who survived.

It seems they found me judging from the deaths of the people who exposed our existence. They seemed to all die of lead poisoning (one of our main defense adaptations) or from bullet wounds. That's why I'm currently riding in my anti-grav around this cliff. I laugh quietly to myself as I look in my rear view mirror to see a cop anti-grav turn to wide causing it to slip off the mag strip and plunge into the dark rainy night.

I am virtually an auto pilot on the mag strips, my A.I. has adapted to the point of near perfect driving. Making the Feds outmatched in this department.

Eventually I make my way from the cliff back to the city of New York. Now in the comfort of this concrete jungle, I start to outmaneuver the handful of F.B.I. agents who have still managed to keep up with me. I decide to turn all the lights on my anti-grav off causing my vehicle to become one with the darkness of this rainy night. Now, they can only see me when their lights are on me. I see an alley coming up with my acute night vision. I suddenly do a hard left steering my anti-grave behind them and into the alley. My trail would look something like a C now that I think about it.

I slowly land my anti-grav down, as I can no longer hear their sirens. They have lost me. I get out of the stolen anti-grav and walk out of the alley. My trench coat and hat seem to blend me in with the shady folks of the New York nights as I make my way to my apartment. A jazz tune hums in my head as I change into my human appearance before entering the skyscraper that contains my apartment. I don't even bother speaking to the new receptionist as I head to the elevator in the lobby. I hit the button and the elevator door immediately opens. I quickly enter and I select number 76. The floor my apartment is located. No one enters on my trip up thankfully; I'm not in the mood to look at human right now.

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I'm more of a story-teller kind of writer. So i came up with this. I thought maybe the last paragraph can be detailed on a drawing, but yeah, i still insisted on posting the WHOLE story. Fuck me if you don't like it.

Angel of Death

Andrew always had an incredible luck when it came to accidents. He was involved in several car crushes, building fires, earthquakes in tall buildings. And in every single one of them, he came out without a single scratch. Now, this story of "luck" doesn't end here. Because every time he escaped from the cold hands of death, someone else died near him. And not just a random someone: It always was someone close to Andrew. That way, he lost friends, family and more than one girlfriend. His story was well known by his neighbors and classmates. They gave him the reputation of a "Black Cat", an "Angel of Death", word said that anyone who befriended him or even talk to him more than once, was destined to suffer a rather unpleseant fate.

This was familiar to Andrew. He had nightmares constantly, he daydreamed about the victims of his many disgraceful life experiences. He developed a shy and rather fearful personality, he always seemed nervous about something. His life wasn't worth living anymore. But he knew that he wasn't the one to put an early end to it. If he even tried, there was a huge chance that the one dying would not be him, it would be anyone he loved or knew. There was no escape to this.

One day, in the middle of winter, he was feeling more deppressed than usual. He started wandering around town, with the wind and rain cooling his body, distracting him from the pain of a life that was never supposed to be lived. He walked out of an alley and started moving on the sidewalk. But, suddenly, he stopped. His eyes saw something, or someone, that he will never forget. Right across the street, on a deserted coffee place, there she was. Andrew saw her, and she was beautiful. It was love at first sight. He crossed the street, without even caring if any vehicle was coming his way. He stood in front of her, and said "hi". They started talking. And so, they started knewing each other. Before he had time to realize this, she was the love of his life.

Many months passed by. He got married with that woman, and hope was brought back to his life. The nightmares stopped, the tragedies did so too. He met the happiness that avoided him this whole time. Life was worth living. One day they decided to take a walk on the park. It was a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. They walked for an hour or maybe two, holding hands and talking endlessly about nothing. When they were about to go home, something happened. The sky looked dark, it started to rain. Andrew takes her hand, and they start running home to get sheltered from the rain. He seemed desperate about getting home. "Andrew, stop!" she said, "There's no need to go so fast!". But he didn't listened. And, just when they were crossing the street, Andrew stops. "Finally... now, can we please walk home?". Again, he didn't listened a single word she said. Suddenly, both hear a loud noise. A car was coming down the street, in their direction. They saw it, but none of them moved a muscle. He was getting closer and closer every second. Andrew wanted to scream, but his throat couldn't make a single sound. The car was already in front of them, all Andrew could see were the car lights in his eyes. He closed his eyes and the world froze, but... Andrew wakes up, and starts screaming. "What's going on?! Are you ok?! Talk to me!", his wife asks, she's scared. "It's happening again", he says. "The nightmares are back".

The very next day, Andrew gets out of bed. He couldn't sleep a single minute the whole night. He already knew what this meant. But he tried to act naturally, and do things as normal as possible. A few minutes later, he and his wife were in the car, going to their respective work places. Andrew was tense, fearing for the life of the only loved one left in his life. "Calm down, just calm down" Andrew says out loud. "You're doing good! Past this corner it's her work place. I just drop her there and she's safe, SAFE!! No one has to die, you hear me?!". His wife is obviously concerned about this matter. Andrew focuses on the road. Abruptly, time stops. All Andrew can move is his eyes. "Is something wrong?..." he asks. Looking around the place, he notices something. A truck was about to crash their car. But Andrew can't do anything about it. As soon as he notices the truck, time starts to go on normally. All he hears is the crashing sound, and he loses conciousness.

Andrew's eyes open up again. The first thing he thinks about, makes his blood freeze. His beloved wife is on the passenger seat! He can barely move his neck. Closing his eyes, he focuses on just turning around to check her. As soon as he's done, he opens his eyes. She is perfectly fine. Not a single scratch on her body, not even a shard of glass near her body. What a relief. But, it seems something is wrong... How can this be possible?...

His wife opens her eyes, and looks at Andrew. She seems surprised, and screams like someone who watched their very own dead in front of their eyes. Andrew looks shocked. He starts examinating his own body, and notices something in his chest. A huge steel pipe went through the car windshiel, and through his chest. He was out of luck. He bleeds out and dies shortly after this. His wife survived. But now, she carries his "Angel of Death" mark.

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By the way, could you allowed to make more short stories

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You know, this isn't supposed to be a place to put your stories. You're supposed to be writing a paragraph or 2 creating a scene, not making a wall of text as many of you are.

I'm not surprised that no artists have drawn anything.

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At 2/11/10 03:04 PM, TheThing wrote: You know, this isn't supposed to be a place to put your stories. You're supposed to be writing a paragraph or 2 creating a scene, not making a wall of text as many of you are.

I'm not surprised that no artists have drawn anything.

Sorry i've been busy studying for my Film mid-term. But yes, a lot of the users are submitting way to long of stories. Earlier I said about 3-4 paragraphs was fine, and the only reason it was ok is because it's not that much more to read. My base paragraph was my ideal length but I assumed people were going to go over the limit but I was only hoping maybe a 2 or 3 paragraphs over the limit. But i'm seeing massive walls of text and mutliple post stories.

I need to get something worked out here. There is a reason I had rules, such as a limit on elements. Maybe I should of set a max limit and not a "if you are serious you can go over" because I assume everyone will think their writings are serious and will go over this limit. I wish I could edit my original post.

Is there any artist who are currently working on anything? Or any who have plans to? Maybe you can just choose from the smaller pieces, and maybe the writers will follow suit realizing that the longer pieces are too much to read and to work with. I didn't want this to be a "submit your entire work thread" it was suppose to be fresh stories or small pieces from your work such as 2-4 short paragraphs, so an artist can read through it and illustrate it.

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I guess I'll be nice and contribute the art side.

decided to draw
Samuraikyo story

sun set

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Blood sprays freely as a metal rod is pulled from a dying soldier. The polished metal glimmered in the sunlight down to its handle. Another soldier approached from behind, clad in metallic armor. The knight cleaved the attacking soldier in half, long chocolate brown hair swaying as the knight spun. The soldier's eyes misted in death as he fell, looking up at his armored killer, the armor slightly protruding at the chest. The knight looked around as the village burned. The peasants, seeing the knight, came out of hiding. Running up, they began showering the knight with thanks and praise. The knight's head shook, reluctant to accept any of the praise. Turning, the knight whistled for the horse. A beautiful horse galloped to the knight, who mounted the horse. They galloped into the nearby forest. The horse looking proud, her master unharmed and petting her as they travel. Taking a deep breath, calmness enveloped the knight, the natural environment bringing peace and serenity to the knight's mind.
The knight reached up, and pulled off the helmet. Light shone off the feminine features upon her face, her forest green eyes, deep and maze like. A messenger arrived, delivering a message that she was summoned by the king. With a sigh, she took her horse and left for the castle, a royal emblem on the back of her hand, portraying her royal heritage.

this was made at school, as you see the further it got the more you knew about what was happening, the twist at the end is because i don't like stereo types very much and i try my hardest too stray away from them, eye and hair detail was because the teacher wanted detail, feel free too play with the color (btw no, i have not watched xena)

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At 2/11/10 10:36 PM, joekuli wrote: I guess I'll be nice and contribute the art side.

decided to draw
Samuraikyo story

sun set

Gratz on being the first Art submitter! And MY story too! /blush

Anyway, I like how you made the sun bright and shaded out the characters black to emphasize that. I actually had an entirely different view. I'm not much of an Artist but tomorrow, i'll try and sketch out a vision of my interpretation tomorrow because I need to go to bed.

Just a little note, I had my angle more upwards, angled downright where the car would take up a portion of the lower right corner with the car visibly on a hill. There's a hill partially visible on the left to acknowledge there being more hills in the area, and the sun would be centered mid frame but not as large as yours. Characters would be colored also. I'll make a quick sketch tomorrow if I have time.

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Man, only one art piece so far. It's a great idea, but the writing forum is probably not the place for this thread.

I would say make 2 threads, one in art, one here in writing, and link the art to the writing thread and vice versa. Then put a word limit, not a paragraph limit. Flash fiction is usually under 500 words or so, but a 1000 word limit wouldn't be over the top, either one is still enough to get a decent descriptive story out.

Then over in the art forum's thread, make a limit, 1 picture per story. I don't think you'll run out of stories to be honest.

I don't think the collaboration forum would really be the place for this thing tho, it's more of an activity than a project. But that's just my two cents.

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"We find the homo sapien in his most primitive of states, the mating ritual. In this episode, of Wilderness Online, we examine this strange, and often, drug induced state."
Scene cuts to introduction
"This homo sapien who we have recently nicknamed, 'Joe,' has been on the prowl for some time, often frequenting "intelligentsia centers" and "speakeasies" he has grown tired of being turned down by every prospective female. But what's this? Joe has found a new way of attracting females that requires little work. Apparently items of green color have significant meaning for females of the homo sapien species."
"After his mating ritual is complete, Joe continues his recreational activities, maybe one day this lonely soul will find love, but maybe someday he has to be less of a douche."

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At 2/9/10 07:32 AM, Grifflent wrote: What im thinking of is a school divided into boys and girls, and a huge war going on. No blood. Weapons are like basket balls, rulers, and such. Boys win.

Sorry about the low quality. I just wrote a book for this and my hands hurt.

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At 2/12/10 02:29 AM, Samuraikyo wrote:
Gratz on being the first Art submitter! And MY story too! /blush

Anyway, I like how you made the sun bright and shaded out the characters black to emphasize that. I actually had an entirely different view. I'm not much of an Artist but tomorrow, i'll try and sketch out a vision of my interpretation tomorrow because I need to go to bed.

Just a little note, I had my angle more upwards, angled downright where the car would take up a portion of the lower right corner with the car visibly on a hill. There's a hill partially visible on the left to acknowledge there being more hills in the area, and the sun would be centered mid frame but not as large as yours. Characters would be colored also. I'll make a quick sketch tomorrow if I have time.

Your welcome, i was going to make an odd image in the top right corner and have them kissing, but i just went with they were holding hands and looked at one another.

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It might be a little intimidating when you get here to this thread and see all the stories all mixed up with the comments and stuff. Maybe someone should put together a little webpage or something where everything is organized cleanly with the stories and the drawings of each story put with it.
If you guys think its a good idea and nobody else is willing to make it, then I am willing to throw something together real quick. Might help..

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I'm no writer but i will try and do an art piece based on one of your stories soon after i've filtered through to the one i like the most and chosen my compostion/scene.

A good idea would get permission to post an alternate thread onto the art forum linking this thread, and visa-versa. That way you'd aget a lot more response from the artists on ng.

Good luck, be back later on

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AudioAce's story was what i depicted in this.

Sasquash

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Here goes, let me try this...
Genre
Fantasy/Advertising/ Awesome

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---------Unleash The Beast-----------------------------------
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Somewhere on a burnt and battered battlefield a swordsman swiftly dodges the incoming blows from group of orcs. Precision in every stroke of his blade as he hits the vital areas of his opponents, corpses stacking up around him. As he begins slowly sliding his blade out from the torso of the last standing orc the swordsman looks around at all the corpses he has caused to pile up. He slowly walks over to a pile as he sheaths his sword and pulls out a long black can. He sits down on the pile of bodies and pops the top of the can before taking a drink. Another soldier walks over and looks at the swordsman in awe of his carnage. The swordsman merely holds up the can so the soldier can see the big green M before the swordsman calmly says, "Monster, Unleash the Beast."

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My scene: (it's very surreal)
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There is a pure grey room with a small box with a circle on the front in the middle. there is a man sat on the box who has a face on either saide of his head and there is a glass ball in his palm.

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Hey look at this, I made this special just for this tryed to keep your mind open:

As we look to the stares we see the lights reflect off the ships. There pillars of nonsense landing upon the earth, no indication of what nor why land here, now, there. Questions reach our ears and minds, questions without answers and without recoil. Twenty or forty sink through the sky before our eyes waving large concoctions of air all around. So enthused are we that we forget to blink and gaze on through burning eyes at this eloquent marvel of undetermined proportion. One reaches the ground, then another, and a third. We can hear the servos quietly humming from inside. No door, no window, no vents or cracks nor insignia of any sort. Nothing but a slick, barren covering, but wait, what is that, a logo or symbol way up at the top, a emblem from our past, or is it?

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Imagine punching someone so hard that they turn into a door. Then at that exact moment, you realize that's where all doors came from.

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Ok, here is a much shorter and more visually centered short story to make up for the crazy long one from before. It still set in the same world though (WoW meets Tarantino).

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I pressed the rune-print against the lock. I smelt a tinge of rosemary enter the air and heard a click. I eased open the old, creaky wood. Peering through the gap in the doorway I saw the beam of moonlight from the nearby oval window shine upon on the old dwarf's face as he slept silently.

I creaked the door open a slight bit wider and slid through. It took five steps across the hardwood floor to reach the bed. One step. Two step. Three step. Four step and I quickly slid the blade out of the sleeve attached to my waist. The emerald in her hilt caught the moonbeam for a second as I lifted her in my right hand, not in a brutal way, a surgical way.

Five step. I woke the old man, as requested by the employer.

"Old man, awake."

His eyes opened slowly. He looked at my pale, clean-shaven Masterin-elf face with confusion for a moment, and then with a calm sense of oblivion.

"This was a long time coming," He rasped in a voice aged by years of evil actions. "She deserves this. I daresay she did not request I die painlessly"

"Sadly not, senor..."

"Let her know I forgive her."

"I will."

"Good, I'll try not to scream."

"Fear not, Companero, for no one shall be able to hear."

Five piercings, escalating in fatality. Ending with the heart, as was specified. He did scream.

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Please respond with any art inspired by this piece, it would be greatly appreciated.

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At 2/12/10 04:36 PM, conn1496 wrote: My scene: (it's very surreal)
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There is a pure grey room with a small box with a circle on the front in the middle. there is a man sat on the box who has a face on either saide of his head and there is a glass ball in his palm.

It's not 'art', but it's a fifteen minute sketch. I figure a contribution wouldn't go amiss.