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My two stories, "Of Strawberries and Figs."

The beginings may seems infant and babyish, but the actual stories have a deep meaning hidden in the pulp.

I like to eat, eat, eat, apples and bananas. The begining of the saga. This is the story of friends on opposite sides of war.

And the fruit of the day is... Grapes! My understanding of discrimination and World War Two.

E-Mail me if you have questions or comments. I plan on making more in the series.

At 12/17/05 07:07 AM, Myst_Williams wrote:

Okay now go read my long poem and tell me what you think.

>:(

Cocks.

The Iceberg

Look at him!
He's so big and wide.
Lord knows he must
be cold inside

His crags aren't built
to show emotion
split from his pack
to float the ocean

on him gathered
some playing seals
no ears to hear
their barks and squeals

He drifts southward
they laugh and play
no they won't care
when he melts away

the seas grow warmer
as he melts more
He won't survive
to see the shore

He sees revenge
on the horizon
boats made of skin
with men inside them

The seals don't run
they can't concieve
what they should fear
that they should leave

The thought their fun
would never end
imposing upon
their glacial friend

The iceberg grins
his craggy smile
Freed from this weight
after many miles

The men throw lines
and climb aboard
the perfect skin
is their reward

The iceberg winks
He's made his pact
given human hands
for a vengeful act

The cudgels rise
and the clubs fall
the seals can't run
so they kill them all

The mens's work done
after a short while
the iceberg wore
a crimson smile

The end was near
but it couldn't be said:
"He'd never smiled
before he was dead"

lol it's a metaphor lol EMO

hey thanks for welcoming me back. Unfortunatley I dont think Im gonna be posting very much here, I've had a huge in creativity lately, and I found another club mor suited for what I want to do, however if somehow I found an abundance of creativity and inspiration somewhere I might continue to post my strange stories and poems, anyway if anyone wants to, tell me whats been going on lately.
thanks,
-G.C.

At 12/17/05 09:14 PM, Mick_the_champion wrote: Yeah, it has been awhile hasn't it? Well, I'm posting a short story - it's un-finished and un-titled. I really just want some kind of reassurance that I should continue writing it. Or stop if it doesn't work. Well, here;

Untitled Short Story Project 1

Yeah, continue with that, it's good stuff. I like the way you build up characters with constant internal monologue, it really works to develop them well in a short time (although I wouldn't recommend it for a more long-winded piece).
The adventures of this particular priest could wind up as a masterpiece, all the possibilities!
You get the feeling that he's potentially a complete psychopath, or a wonderful hero - but whichever the case he clearly has some problems to start with.
So you have a very good character there, the kind who can make a story out of any given situation.

And now ladies and gentlemen, it's time for episode one of Noir.

Noir

I was off the case… but that wasn’t going to stop me.
It was two weeks since Roberto Gilliando had come to the police reporting his own art heist. Everyone knew it was a bluff – the scumbag was laughing at us, daring the chief to take him in. So the cops had nothing, diddly-squat. That’s where I came in, private investigator Dick T. Noir, bottom of the pile and top of my game. They knew I’d crossed paths with Gilliando before, but then again, I guess I wasn’t the only one. The downtown mafia boss had a finger in just about everyone’s pie from here to Manhattan, and a detective who didn’t know the neighbourhood faces wouldn’t last long in this game.
So here I was, standing outside Casino Roberto. The rain drummed steadily on the brim of my hat, spattering down into the road, the sidewalk streams glittering in New York City’s night time glow. One of the two doormen looked over in my direction, his rusty servos chattering violently to keep up with the movement. I touched the butt of my revolver, tucked safely away deep within my coat pocket. The bouncer grinned, exposing a set of chrome plated teeth, then turned back to the steady queue of mechanicals filing into the casino. I reached up, the alloy of my fingers felt cool against the back of my neck-plate. This was it then. Time to bite the bullet.

The first doorman held up his arms as I approached, just as expected.
�Sir, you’ll have to join the queue like everybody else.�
�Tell your boss Dick Noir wants a word,� I replied. �I don’t think he’ll mind much.�
For a moment the only sounds were the pattering of rain and the background ambience of the city. Then the mech’s pale blue optical receptors dimmed slightly. He took a step back.
�Noir? Private eye?�
I nodded, mimicking his earlier grin. My titanium alloy dentals put the doorman’s cheap plated set to shame.
�The same.�
He backed off immediately, turning toward the casino entrance.
�You’d better follow me.�

On the surface the casino wasn’t anything special, a few polished gold-effect ornaments lending that air of quality to an otherwise sleazy gambling house. Gilliando liked to entertain, that often meant a lot of crooks in one place, whether they were from the streets or City Hall, it all boiled down to the same thing. There were only three reasons for a private eye to pay a visit to a place like this, one was if you needed information, the other for getting killed.
And then there was always that crazy alternative – a detective might, just might, come here if he was Dick Noir.
We made our way across the combined lobby and dance floor, the goon leading the way, glancing back every few seconds to check I was still around. I got a few admiring glances from the barflies, I wasn’t a ladies man, but had been told my exoskeleton was to die for. The lobby gave way to the tables, cards changing hands left and right, croupiers scattering dice and pulling chips. I cast my optical receptors over tonight’s crowd, their crimson-red glow brightening for better focus. It looked like the usual bunch, more money than brains, or more brains than money. Either one worked in this game. As we approached a small booth set into the far wall my companion turned around.

Whats up people I have a story i would like to post on here its been sitting on my computer for a while now, so i have to get it out. hope you guys like it.

The Chronicles Of Hiro
Chapter 1: Training

On the lands of Haro and the continent of Rutener there is a very powerful king, the king Karoshi. Karoshi was an evil king who does everything for himself and demands a large amount of tax money from all of the villages and cities he owned. But if someone from a village or city fails to pay their taxes or a whole village or city, they will be hunted and they will be killed.

In Rutener theres a village called Fallet. Fallet is a desent town filled with caring families and lots of activity but does not have the kind of money to pay all of their debts. A boy fourteen years of age with the name of Hiro is one of the civilians of the town. He is a popular kid in his village with lots of freinds. Hiro was playing with his freinds when soldiers raided his town. Hiro ran and hid as people got slaughtered right infront of his eyes. An hour passed untill the yelling of the soldiers finally stopped. Hiro walked out. Dead bodies of Fallet civillians covered the ground. As Hiro walked he saw dead bodies of freinds and family, people he had just talked to a half an hour before the raid. Thirteen other civilians in the town survived the killing. Hiro stands in one spot for an hour anger rushing through him. He clenches his fists tight and screams. His anger takes full control of his body. Hiro hovers inches off the ground with power running through his body. Hiro lets all that power out creating a blinding light. The light fades then Hiro falls to the ground uncontious.

Hiro wakes then looks around. Hatred of the king runs through his mind. Hiro makes a promise to himself. A promise to kill the king and rid all of the land of his evil. But Hiro was too weak. He couldnt possibly take on an army by himself. Unless he goes through serious training. Hiro thinks long and hard about this decision then finally desides to go off on an adventure for strength and power. He leaves his destroyed village ready, ready to become strong enough to kill the king who pleagues the land.

As Hiro walks miles away from his old home into the Yosha Pass, he is mugged by two ruthless mid aged adults. Hiro was knocked out then his pockets where searched by the two. They find nothing on the boy. The older theif spit on the boy then kicks him away complaining about the boy having nothing on him. The two theives run towards the town of Yosha, a big decent town filled with lots of hardworking civillians and more ruthless criminals.

An hour later Hiro wakes up. He gets up with his fist clenched tight. He looks around then walks towards the town. Hiro enters the town and looks around in amazement.
" This place is huge, " Hiro thought to himself. He continued down the town streets looking around, gazing at everything he has never seen in his village. Hiro came to a blacksmiths shop and looked at all of the weaopons in amazement. " What is this thing called? " Hiro asked the shop keeper.
" Why that's a dumb question its called a sword my boy, " the shop keeper replied.
" A sword? " Hiro asked dumbfounded.
" Yes, a sword. " said the shop keeper with a smile on his face.
" Well I've never seen these things before in my village, " Hiro said with wide eyes on the sword.
" Really? " The shop keeper asked. " You must live in a poor village then huh? "
" Yea, " Hiro said, his head down and filled with sadness about his village. " Could I have one? " Hiro asked.
" Nah, Im afraid these swords are not for you my ol' boy, your just too little! " The shop keeper replied " But I can sell you a wooden bokan! "
" Wooden," said Hiro with a saddened expression " But I dont like wooden. " Hiro finished. He turns around then goes for the door. Hiro walks the town looking around randomly. " Inn ? " Hiro asked himself. Hiro walks up to a nearby civilian " Excuse me whats an inn? " Hiro asked.
" Why an inn is a place to sleep boy everybody knows that. " the guy replies then walks away.
" A place to sleep, why thats perfect! " Hiro thought to himself. Hiro walks into the inn.
Hiro walks up to the front desk, " Excuse me but I heard that I can sleep here, Is that true? "
The women at the desk laughs, " Well of course you can sleep here, its an Inn. " The women replied.
" Then may I sleep here tonight? " Hiro asked.
" Sure, that will be thrirty dollars then. " The lady at the desk says.
" Th-thirty dollars ?!? " Hiro studdered. " But I dont have any money. " Hiro says pulling out his pockets, " where will I get thirty at anyways ? " Hiro asked the lady.
" I dont know go around the town doing chores for people im sure you will find thirty dollars somewhere. " The women says back. Hiro nods his head then leaves.

Hiro wanders around the town searching for money. As the hours pass the sky got darker and Hiro was getting tired. Hiro thought about stealing the money a couple of times but always gave the though up. It was around ten o' clock when Hiro finally gave into his idea in stealing the money. A man walking through the streets had his wallet sticking out of his back pocket. Hiro rushed in took it and ran. Hiro was too quick for the man to notice it. Hiro had searched the wallet and found three hundred and twenty dollars. Hiro returned to the Inn and whent to sleep.
Hiro woke up then wandered the streets again aimlessly looking around spending his money freely. The day ended and he stayed another night in the Inn. The night passed. The day came. Hiro woke up. Hiro walked out of his room and out of the Inn. Hiro wandered around the town again. As Hiro was walking he spotted the two theives that knocked him out two days previously. Hiro whent up to correct them about it. The younger theif pushed Hiro back and the older snatched the stolen wallet.
" Now where you manage to git money like this in two days boy? " The theif asked. Hiro snatches the wallet back.
" The same way you guys do, steal it! " Hiro admitted. The younger theif then kicks Hiro in the stomach making him fall.
" Shut yer mouth boy! " The theif snarled. Hiro bursted with anger grabbed the theifs and threw the theif in the air and grabbed the other by the throat and sqeezing as hard as he could. The theif's head turned red with the blood rushing in. The one theif falls and the others neck snaps from Hiro's grab. Hiro lets go of the theif's neck and he drops to the ground. The live theif looks up at Hiro in fright. Hiro lifts his foot over the live theifs face then lets it down hard on the theifs face cracking his skull. Hiro stands there breathing hard and heavy in his victory. Grining wide. He bends down and picks up the wallet. Hiro looks over to see three gaurds running towards him. Then one raises his hand up high with a pole then lets it down smacking Hiro in the face.

Hiro wakes up laying on the floor of a cell. Hiro gets up looks around then sits down on a concrete bench. He lays back. Thoughs running throungh his mind. Minutes goes by then Hiro falls back to sleep.
" Wake up boy, your coming with me! " A guard shouted. The gaurd opens up Hiro's cell, grabs his arm then turns Hiro around to put handcuffs around him. The gaurd grabs the chain in the middle of the handcuffs and starts to walk taking Hiro with him. They walk down one hallway then makes a left. The gaurd stops next to a door, lets go of Hiro's handcuffs and reaches to his belt for his key. Hiro looks around, once to the left, once to the right then jumps up and kicks the gaurd down. Hiro then concentrated on his strength put his hands together fist balled, then in one sudden movement he forces his hands apart breaking the handcuffs chain. He looks down at the passed out gaurd and takes his keys. Hiro then runs down the hallway he just came from while serching for the key to the handcuffs. Hiro makes a right at the end of the hallway to see another gaurd. Hiro runs toward the gaurd. As the gaurd looks over he gets a look of surprise on his face before Hiro jumps up into a flying kick right into the gaurds face. Hiro lands and keeps charging on through the hallways as the gaurd lays uncontious. Hiro finally finds the key unlocking the right side of the handcuffs off his hand. Hiro then unlocks the left. Hiro gets a happy expression on his face as he throws the pair of keys on the ground. Hiro makes another right through a hallway. Hiro spotts a door opening then throws a burst of energy created by his mind flying at the gaurd opening the door. The gaurd flies down the hall as Hiro runs on through and towards the exit. Hiro makes it through to the main entrance to a group of ten gaurds standing there waiting for him. Hiro throws another burst of energy towards the gaurds knocking them down.
" He's not normal! " A guard shouted while getting up. By the time the gaurd had gotten fully up on his feet three gaurds were already beaten and Hiro was heading towards his way with his fist balled tightly at his side ready to go in for another knock out. Hiro swings his fist towards the gaurd, makes a connection to the gaurds cheek breaking his jaw knocking him out and off after his next victims. Hiro jumps up in a spin with his foot wide out infront of him kicking two more gaurds in the face and dropping them. Finally the last four gaurds draw their blades ready to kill the criminal. One gaurd goes in for the attack,then swings his blade at Hiro. Hiro jumps back causing the gaurd to miss. Hiro kicks the gaurds hand knocking the sword out of his hands and into his own. Hiro then swings down slicing the gaurd's arm. The gaurd goes down holding his arm in agony. Another gaurd goes into the attack but Hiro parries the attack and slices the gaurds back causing him to retreat too. Hiro steps towards the last two. The gaurd standing to the left charges in just to get his arm hacked off before he could even swing the sword. That gaurd too goes down. Hiro takes a step towards the last gaurd standing. The gaurd jumps back in fear then throws his weapon to the ground in defeat. Hiro smiles then runs out the building away from Yosha Town.

An hour later Hiro ends up into the Grey Hold Woods. As Hiro makes his way to the exit of the woods Hiro takes a break, all out of breath. Hiro looks at the sword in his hand and smiles.
" My very own sword! " Hiro shouted in all happiness. " Ha, wooden sword, " Hiro spat on the ground, " I've got a real one! " Hiro then started to run again. Hiro then passed a tree where a bandit jumped out and grabbed him. Hiro concentrated on his energy and bursted the bandit away. Hiro then charged at the surprised bandit with his new sword in hand. Hiro then slashed at the bandit slicing him from his right shouler down to his chest. As the bandit falls to the ground Hiro yanks up the sword and out of the bandit. Hiro then walks out of the woods and into the next town.

“Wait here, Mr. Gilliando will decide whether you can come through.�
I nodded and leant back against the booth as the bouncer opened, and locked the door behind him. I reached into my inside pocket for a cigarette, guiding the thin metal stick to my lips before retrieving a match from even deeper within my clothing. Just as I was about to light up, a thin, polished voice caught my attention.
“…Dick Noir, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up honey, he aint the type to count cards when he could be crackin’ a case. Always work work work with that man…�
I flicked the match alight across my thumb plate, catching the tip of my smoke before sauntering over to the table. The game looked like blackjack, three people sat across from the dealer, all young millionaire types.
“I thought I heard your voice Ruby.� I said, staring down at the young lady that had spoken. She glanced up and flashed a gold-plated smile.
“We was just talkin’ about you Dick. Marco and Nancy here saw you come in, so I thought I’d fill them in a bit on the maverick detective.�
The one called Marco turned around and tipped his hat, the guy wore a fur coat, and enough jewellery to pay for his expensive chassis ten times over.
“So, I hear you uh, aint much of a gambler. That right Mr. Noir?�
He spoke with a thick New Yorker accent. Probably the mayor’s nephew of something.
“Oh I don’t know about that,� I smiled and shot Ruby a sideways glance. “I could go for a quick game, provided the stakes are right.�
Marco chuckled and gestured to the dealer.
“We got a new player here, pull up a seat Dickey boy and let’s see what you got.�
I nodded still smiling slightly, and took a seat at the other end of the table, next to Ruby.
“Hey dealer, let’s make this interesting. Play me off against Dick here, we’ll have us a little private game.�
“That’s really against policy sir, if you want a private game then might I suggest you take your business elsewhere.� The dealer replied, with no real conviction.
“Hey, come on, how about I slip in a good word with your manager or something?�
Clearly that wasn’t all Marco would be slipping in, he slid his hand across the table, leaving a crisp hundred on top of the deck. It seemed to do the trick.
“Well alright, if you insist sir.�
The dealer scooped up his deck and began shuffling, Ruby turned to me, a look of mild interest on her face.
“This aint like you Dick, I thought it was against the law for detectives to have fun or something?�
Her other friend, Nancy, giggled at this. I kept my face impassive and reached for my wallet.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me miss,� I said, then to Marco “So, how does a thousand suit you? Cash of course.�
He winked back at me.
“Sure thing Dick. Alright, let’s play!�
I placed my wallet on the table as the first two cards were dealt.
“Mr. Donovan had three, Mr. Noir six.�
Not a bad start. This was a dangerous game to be playing. A thousand bucks was a lot of money for a guy like me to stake on a game of chance. There probably wasn’t even that much in my apartment, let alone the wallet.
“Guess you’d better hit me.� Marco said.
“Eight. You have eleven total.�
I glanced up at the young playboy. He was still smiling, I guessed he did this kind of thing every other night, and probably with bigger fish than me. But that was good, he wouldn’t care much about winning, and even though blackjack wasn’t exactly a game of much skill, he might still manage to screw it up.
I nodded to the dealer, and he dropped me another card.
“Five, Mr. Noir also has eleven.�
Marco got a six, then an ace before he decided to stay. My cards made up for a grand total of thirteen.
“Getting nervous Dickey boy?� My opponent taunted from across the table. The guy was clearly a shit, that much I had my mind made up on. Still, I needed the money more than the potential dent I could put in his pride. I took a long drag on my cigarette before answering.
“Hey, it’s only money.�
I was truly in the shit if the deck wasn’t on my side.
“Eight, you have blackjack.�
I breathed a sigh of relief and stubbed out my smoke.
“Guess I’m a thousand richer.�
Marco snorted out a polite sound of amusement, and tossed a few hundreds in my general direction before grabbing his coat.
"Come on ladies, let's leave the old man to spend his beer money."
Nancy giggled again. She seemed the giggling type.
"Aww, you backing down Marco?" Ruby replied, not moving from her seat. Her companions seemed to ignore the comment and headed for the bar. Once they were safely out of earshot Ruby leaned over, an annoyed glint in her optical receptors.
"What are you playing at Dick? I know how much you earn, that guy could have cleared you out!"
I tucked my winnings safely away and stood up.
"Hey, maybe I feel like doing something crazy from time to time. And what's the matter, I won didn't I?"
"I don't know Dick, maybe you don't realise, but I don't want to see you go under. You're a nice fella, y'know?"
I thought about that for a minute. Ruby was a nice girl too. Rich, but not stuck up about it like a lot of the other people around here. I sighed, she was right though, I really did need to watch my money a little better.
"Alright, alright, I get your point. I'll try not to clear out the local royalty too often."
She smiled back.
"That's good anough for me Mr. Noir. I guess I'll see you around."
"Yeah, and you stay out of trouble too got it?"
I turned and headed back to the booth, my chrome-plated escort from becore was back, propped up in the entranceway like some oversized novelty doorstop. Given the guy's source of employment, that analogy probably wasn't too far from the truth.
"Mr. Gilliando will see you now."
"About damn time." I muttered.

Blah... that came out a little screwed. I blame Wordpad mostly.
I'll post it again when I reinstall office.

And heres kind of a humorous story ive writen a while ago. some may think of it as offensive but what the hell.

Once upon a time there was a little whore name goldie locks. She got high on crack one day then got lost in the big city.
She came to a house on the courner of Lesbo RD. and Upurass ave. She noticed a broken window then desided to climb in and see what she could steal. When she explored the first room she tore the room up but found nothing she could take for crack money.
She then walks into second room, the kitchen then finds three lines of coke. She snorted the first line but it was too harsh. She then snorted the second line but it was too weak. Then she snorted the last line and it was just right.
She then goes to the third room, the living room and found fourty two dollars. "Hell yea" goldie locks yelled with joy. She looked a little bit more in the room and found a bag of crack. Smiling she walks up the stairs lighting up her crack pipe.
She goes into the only room upstairs, their bedroom. As high as goldie locks is off of the coke and crack she had just taken she feels very tired. So she tries out all the beds. She lays in the first bed, but it had some seringes popping out without her noticing and gets stabbed by three of six. She then goes to the second bed but she then falls through the bottom. She gets up, pissed off then goes too the final bed but passes out before reaching it and busts her head wide open on the corner of the bed.
Two hours pass before the three crackheads return home. They found their front room all trashed up. "Damn it I think we got robbed!" the pissed off junkie screamed. "No shit u stupid bitch!" another crackhead replies. They then walk into the kitchen. "Muh damn coke!" one of the crackheads cried with his hands on his head. "We gonna find this coke stealing bitch and killem!" they all then walk into thier living room to find everything raided and their money and crack gone. "No!" the three crackheads cried.
They all three walk upstairs. "My seringes are broke I wanna no who the fuck?!" one of the crackheads replied. "Well my bed be broken" another said with a saddened expression. "Well my beds got blood on it and the stupid bitch is right here!" the final crackhead said picking up a hatchet while another picks up a machete, and the other a revolver. The crackhead with the hatchet raises it up high and lets it drop chopping goldie locks' arm clean off.
She wakes up screaming in pain, blood pouring from her arm. She gets up booking for the front door. The crackhead with the hatchet brakes his leg running after her. As goldie locks makes her way down the stairs she gets shot at in the back by the crackhead with the gun. The other one with the machete runs down the stairs after her but falls and cracks his head wide open at the bottom of the steps. The gun junkie chased after her shootin and jumping the dead body of his old junkie freind. Goldie locks gets shot in the back a couple more times before she finally makes it out the broken window she came in.
As she makes her way out she gets her throat sliced open by a broken peice of the window. She held her throat as she ran through the back alleys.
She finally bleeds to death and falls down in the middle of an alley. A junkie pops out of a nearby dumpster and walks up to the dead crackwhore. He then gets a huge grin on his face, unzips his pants, pulls down her pants and starts to rape the rotting corpse.
the end

Hey everyone, I know that i'm not particularly experienced in terms of writing, but I do have a long bloodline of writers and have been told i'm quite talented when I apply myself. I just wanted to get some feedback on my story thread that i'm currently writing the 7th chapter of. I also plan to release an NG Civilization Story, a long and tedious work of art it shall be.

Link to my story thread.

Hey I'm new here... mind if I join?? I've been writing a story recently, and I want some people to check it out. It's a fantasy story, so not everyone is going to like this. Here is the first half of it:

Prologue

The boy sat near the top of Mt. Kari, on a spot he had just discovered a week ago during his adventures around the mountain, watching the stars. He had named the place Orran’s Point, after himself and his grandfather. It always calmed him to look at the many stars and constellations. His favorite constellation was Pegasus. After his argument with his father, he needed to be calmed. He sighed and glanced down at Ailar. The boy needed to head back soon or his mother and father would be quite angry. “Just five more minutes” he told himself. The boy looked back up at the stars, thinking about the argument he had just had with his father. His father kept on telling him that he needed to get apprenticed to the local blacksmith, Ilea. The boy, however, wanted to be a Dragon Keeper.
If he wanted to be a Dragon Keeper though, he had to go to the Kiala Mountains which were about three months travel away. Even when he got there, there is no guarantee that he would be accepted. New Dragon Keepers would be assigned a baby dragon and told to protect it. Various challenges are given to the Dragon Keepers, and if they pass them, the dragon will be given to the Dragon Keeper as a pet.
The challenges vary from the baby dragon getting sick to it getting kidnapped. All are challenging though and if you fail you are deemed unworthy of a dragon. “Like I would ever even see a baby dragon.” He thought.
The boy sighed and began to walk down Mt. Kari. When he was about half way down the mountain, a great shadow passed over the moon. He glanced up, wondering what caused it. Fear hit him like a wall as he saw a great, black dragon swoop down to meet him. It let out a roar and opened it great mouth, letting loose with black fire. He screamed as the fire engulfed him.

Chapter 1-Under Attack

I sighed and looked out over the land that stretched on an on broken only by a few hills and the Kiala River to the east wondering when I would get my baby dragon which I had named Ryanya. It was supposed to be hatched today. After it hatched I could start my advanced training and tests. If I passed all my tests I could then become a Dragon Keeper. I sighed and began to walk towards the hatchery. “Hey Tarran!” I heard someone call “Ryanya is hatching!” I turned around to see my best friend, Kaalar running towards me.
“Really?” I asked, getting excited. When he nodded, I took off in the direction of the hatchery. “Hey wait up!” he called. Ignoring him, I ran even faster. I had to be there when Ryanya hatched. Otherwise, the Elders may deem me unfit for owning a dragon because I wouldn’t be responsible enough. I arrived just as the baby was emerging. The Elder Tarruc was watching the dragon hatch. He looked at me with disapproval. “Sorry I’m late.” I said. “Don’t let it happen again; I don’t want to have to tell the rest of the Elders” He grinned mischievously.
Tarruc was my trainer. He had taught me how to fight. I have had many bruises under his training. Tarruc is regarded as the best Dragon Keeper sword trainer.
We watched, as the egg broke apart; smoke pouring out of the holes. As the last of the shell fell off, a little golden dragon toppled out of the remains. “She’s big!” said Tarruc “Most baby dragons are only about one foot tall; she’s at least two feet tall. And a golden dragon too! You’re lucky Tarran.” As I examined Ryanya, Tarruc rummaged through the remains of the egg. He picked up something and gave it to me. “What’s this?” I asked. “It’s the egg horn; it always falls off after a dragon hatches. They use it to break the egg shell when they are hatching” He said, “You might want to keep it as a memento or a trinket or some such thing.” I accepted the tiny horn, wondering if it had any special properties.
“So now I have to go to The Lookout for my next stage of training, correct?” I asked. “Correct” He replied, shortly and bluntly, which is unlike him. I glanced at him, wondering what was wrong. “I will miss you, boy.” He said, with a hint of sadness in his voice. “And I, you.” I responded.
We walked towards the nursery in silence. When we got there, I deposited Ryanya in one of the nests while one of the nurses scurried over to check on Ryanya. “Well, I’m going to go to my room.” I said as Tarruc’s huge, white dragon lumbered towards us. “Farewell for now, Tarruc.”
I walked towards my room, meeting Kaalar along the way. “Well?” He asked, “What color is she?” I smiled “Ryanya is a golden dragon.” His eyes widened “Wow… a golden dragon? They’re rare nowadays. You’re lucky.” We walked back towards my room, speaking of my dragon. When we reached my door we stopped. “See you tomorrow Tarran” said Kaalar cheerfully. “See you” I replied. I walked into my room and sat down on my bed, thinking about The Lookout. Kaalar would be coming with me since his green dragon had just been born a few days ago. Sadly, though, Tarruc couldn’t come. I sighed and lay down on my bed to go to sleep.

Any comments? I can post more if you like it.

I'll just post the rest of it. It does get better by the way. Here it is... the words in parenthesis are supposed to be written in the rune alphabet, bet it didn't get posted that way.

When I woke, the first think I noticed was the high-pitched note of screams. I also heard people shouting over and over, “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!” I hurriedly dressed and peeked out my window. Black dragons were flying everywhere. There were so many that I couldn’t even see the sun. Their black fire darkened everything, burning it to a crisp at the same time. Shouts were ringing out from every part of the compound. A few charred, moaning, heaps also lay around on the ground surrounding the buildings.
I was so stunned, I didn’t even notice when my door was flung open until someone shook me from behind. “Tarran! Come on, we have to get to the nursery!” said a voice. I shrugged off the hands and ignored the voice, too dumbfounded by everything to respond in any way. “Tarran, we have to go, NOW!” I turned to the voice finally and found myself looking at Kaalar. “What… is going on?” I asked, stumbling over my own words a little bit. “I don’t know but we have to get to the nursery and save Ryanya and Kiro!” he responded in a frantic tone. “Ok let’s go.”
We started running for the nursery. As we came to the nursery, the screams intensified. We rounded the corner to see bodies, dead or wounded, strewn everywhere. Nurses and doctors rushed from person to person, hoping to find a sign of life. If they did, they would treat the person as efficiently and quickly as possible. Then they would rush onto the next person. “Go find your dragon and I’ll find mine. Meet back here when you have him!” I shouted. Kaalar nodded and waded into the bodies. I did the same, going in a different direction.
I stopped a doctor that was rushing by, and asked him where Ryanya was. “All the dragons are being held over there!” He pointed to a doorway that led into what was usually a storage room. As I entered the room, I noticed that a few of the babies were wounded. “What happened to them…?” I murmured. “They were caught in the crossfire when the Jlakar’s attacked” A strong, commanding voice said. I turned toward it, recognizing Tarruc immediately. He had numerous wounds all over his body. “What happened? Black dragons are attacking the buildings out there!” I said, feeling myself get slightly hysterical.
“Those black dragons call themselves the Jlakar’s. They have been attacking small villages everywhere. No one expected them to attack us though.” He sighed. “I went out to fight them, like many of the others. I was one of the few that survived. These baby dragons, they escaped from the nursery, seeing that their big brothers were fighting, and tried to help. A few died, but most survived.” I shook my head, shocked. “
Why would they do such a thing?” I asked. “No one knows. Some think that they went mad. Others say that they are doing it out of greed. But… others think that a dark sorcerer controls them.” I sucked in my breath slightly. Magic, of all kinds, had been banned long ago. Some, however, still practiced it, illegally. “Where is Ryanya? I need to meet Kaalar.” I said. “No worries, I’m right here!” said Kaalar, walking into the room.
“Well, when the dragons all leave, what should we do?” I asked. “I’m not sure if the dragons will leave.” said Tarruc. I froze. “What do you mean?” Asked Kaalar. “Well, a few of the dragons were bringing nesting materials.” The building shook slightly as something ran into it. “I think they mean to make this their home.” Said Tarruc. “You two and several other boys and girls will be leaving in ten minutes to make an escape to The Lookout. Now go to the service tunnel entrance and wait there. Farewell, Tarran. I wish you luck.” Sadly, Kaalar and I turned to leave. “Oh one more thing.” Said Tarruc when we were almost out the door. “Tarran I want you to have this.” He handed me a crystal that glowed brightly. “This was my grandfather’s crystal of plarnit. It is an extremely rare crystal that only grows in a cave somewhere in the Kiala Mountains. He found it one day while he was exploring the mountain range. Given that I have no son to pass it on to, I want you to take it.”
I took the crystal, pleased that he had even so much as considered giving it to me. “Now go! Hurry! Get there before they leave.” Tarruc looked into my eyes, and for the first time in my life, I realized that I loved him as I would love my father if I had ever known him. I hugged him quickly, and then Kaalar and I ran out of the room and waded, yet again, through all the bodies. When we reached the door, our feet had blood smeared on them. I shivered, wondering how many people had died today. We hastily made our way to the service tunnel entrance and caught the tail end of a group of children with their dragons.
They were all whispering about what was happening aboveground. I recognized a few of my friends in the crowd and went over to speak to them. “Hi Tarran.” whispered my friend Élan, who I secretly liked. “Hi” I whispered back. “Do you know what’s going on up there?” I asked. “Not really.” She responded “All I know is that we are losing against all of those black dragons, so the children are being sent away.” I nodded. “That’s about all I know as well.”
We walked in silence for a time, following an adult that I recognized to be one of the warriors. We walked for a few hours, watching the torches of the children ahead of us bobbed up and down in a rhythmic pattern. I was beginning to grow tired, when we walked into a great cavern. The cavern was so huge, that you could easily have a war with several thousands of men in it. Great crystals of quartz, diamond, ruby, amethyst, and many other types of crystal, hung from the ceiling and came up from the floor.
Everyone else walked towards the gathering of people near the center of the cavern but I stopped to look at the walls. There was writing all over it in an ancient script that I couldn’t read. This is a small passage that I wrote down. (The water ran silently as the man crept up on the great bear.) This is one of the many writings on the wall. Another such passage was this: (the woman then threw the great spear into the heart of the beast, killing it instantly.)

In case you didn't read what I said about the words in parenthisis in my second post, I'll say it know: the words in parenthesis are suposed to be in the runic language, but it wouldn't let me write it that way in my second post. Anyways, here is the rest of it.

These were all I wrote down just because I wanted to see what language it was. I hurriedly caught up with my friends as we walked towards the gathering.
“Where were you?” Asked Kaalar. “Élan was worried sick about you!” I felt warmth creep into my face. “Really?” I asked. “Yes of course she was! She likes you, you know.” I turned away hastily so he wouldn’t see my face. “I… didn’t realize that.” I said quietly. He smiled, knowingly. “You like her don’t you?” He asked, in a quiet voice. “Yes… Yes I think I do.” I responded.

This is all I have written so far... tell me what you think

Is it just me, or is anyone else seeing a lot of random question marks and pieces of inappropriate punctuation scattered throughout several of the most recent pieces?
Otherwise my computer is crapping out.

Hey Gum, my AIM is LordGreekFolder if'n ya wants to talk.

Great Stories everybody, I might comment later, right now I'm finishing a big 10 page thesis paper on Benedict Arnold though, so, it might not be tonight.

Just lately i have realised my true passion and that is writing. I was alway known to make stories. Unfortunately my sig space is limited but i just want to write somewhere

btw here's a story i made over a year ago and posted on my deviant art.

i cant even remember the full story of this anymore

Anxiety in the gloom where the primal spy conceals himself away from the dim sentry whose eyes match those of a dog and has the mind as sluggish as a snail. Perfectly, the scout is obscure to the environment around him and mingles with the small black corner. The sentinel had turned his back to the unobserved emissary makes his move. With a swift hand he retrieved his Wakizashi from the holder, which slowly grinds against it on contact. With the other hand he obtained a handkerchief to gag the guard from the dread he would soon experience. With the small sword he tore the delicate throat and covered the wound with the handkerchief before a small pond of blood would gush out. With the limp sentry, the assassin placed him into the devouring shadows. With utterly no sympathy he left as if nothing had happened.

“Well I suppose I can see if I can obtain the next challengers soul.” Said the old man as his eyes glowed red and he deposited his sword in its holder.

At 12/20/05 01:56 PM, BlueFlameXmasSkulls wrote:

btw here's a story i made over a year ago and posted on my deviant art.

I don't really have time to do a detailed analysis, so I'll just add a couple of brief pointers.

Most importantly, heed my favourite words of wisdom from Mr. King:
Don't say "John paused long enough to defecate" when what you really mean is "John stopped to take a shit."
You often elaborate way too much on each and every detail.
There are also a lot of awkward sentences, and less punctuation than there really should be. What's really needed here is a more casual and flowing writing style.

At 12/20/05 01:56 PM, BlueFlameXmasSkulls wrote:
btw here's a story i made over a year ago and posted on my deviant art.

Kinda going along with Doc, Your biggest problem is a lack of flow. It's great to be descriptive, but don;t be over descriptive. And if you've ever read anything of mine, then you'd know that it's quite fine to use older, more 19th century language. However don't go out of your way to make your writing sound sophisticated or learned. Write how you talk, though be mindful of spelling and standard grammar. Storytelling isn't something that can be taught. Either you can or can't. I think you have a great sense of story, and I did like your story, but you've gone out of your way to give the story a voice that you probably never speak in. So I guess what you need to do is write in your own voice.

Same thing with poetry. I'm not really referring to any poem I've read, but too often do I come across (and occasionally write) verse that seems forced. Never force a rhyme, or force yourself to stay in metre. Flow is the most important aspect of any writing, especially poetry.

I will be finishes my part to the collab and posting sometime tomorrow afternoon/night.

Just to update ansy ppl . = )

At 12/20/05 02:20 PM, -Doctor_Claus- wrote: I don't really have time to do a detailed analysis, so I'll just add a couple of brief pointers.

Most importantly, heed my favourite words of wisdom from Mr. King:
Don't say "John paused long enough to defecate" when what you really mean is "John stopped to take a shit."
You often elaborate way too much on each and every detail.

meh i kid of agree with you, my english teacher did teach me to write like this. I'm sure Stephen King overdos the description

There are also a lot of awkward sentences, and less punctuation than there really should be. What's really needed here is a more casual and flowing writing style.

I also relised I do lack commas a lot when I got an analysis checked.

I will use these tips when writing the next chapter of the tournament story I'm doing.

thanks

At 12/21/05 07:21 AM, BlueFlameXmasSkulls wrote: meh i kid of agree with you, my english teacher did teach me to write like this. I'm sure Stephen King overdos the description

I have to admit, I found it a little wierd reading a piece written entirely in the present tense. Most prose is written in the past tense, as if by a narrator talking about things he has seen with his own eyes.

I've never seen anything written in the future tense though. That would be freaky in a scary sort of way.

At 12/21/05 07:32 AM, Coop83 wrote: I've never seen anything written in the future tense though. That would be freaky in a scary sort of way.

And then he would read your post and say "by God", just before he decides to talk to his neighbor about shovelling the driveway like the gentleman he can, and will, be.

Huh? Is that future tense? : P

Shit, why did gum remove the link for the collab?!?!

I am not at my comp, so I cant check my bookmarks. Someone help a writer in need out, please.

At 12/21/05 12:04 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: Shit, why did gum remove the link for the collab?!?!

I am not at my comp, so I cant check my bookmarks. Someone help a writer in need out, please.

damn... sorry I'll get it back up... I keep forgetting...

But here is the link. Its on page 150 so everyone knows.

http://andersson.pro..mp;thread=1129851123

The only way I can think to use future tense is if I were to be making some sort of prophecy type piece, but it would have to be part of something larger that was in the past or present tense. It would be difficult to write that way.

At 12/21/05 02:51 PM, gumOnShoe wrote: The only way I can think to use future tense is if I were to be making some sort of prophecy type piece, but it would have to be part of something larger that was in the past or present tense. It would be difficult to write that way.

You could be the next Nostradamus, and write in quatrains using anagrams, symbols, metaphors and three different languages to predict the future.

Not to go too far off topic here, but the one thing I find ironic about all the Nostrdamus business of arguing whether or not he was truly a prophet or just a mental case... is by 2026 we will know. He actually names dates. He said by 2026 two great powers will align and stop/end the third World War, and then 1000 years of peace will wash over earth.

So why don't all those people who choose a side just wait twenty years and find out. Then do the whole "told you so" business and be done with it.

I write in the present tense alot. I'm working on something right now, it's more of a psychological and philosophical piece than a story, but it is mostly present tense. I guess it's from all the Dostoevsky I read.