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SF's "Write Your Butt Off" Competition HD II.5 Remix

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12 minutes ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

About a week, it would seem.

 

You could just remember when you posted.

No.

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NO EXCEPTIONS!

qsa3j8.gif&f=1&nofb=1

 

But it worked before 😞

 

  

On 7/19/2020 at 10:59 PM, Anacybele said:

Sorry, but you're too late. Deadline was last night. It's always a Saturday night. In my timezone, that is.

 

On 7/20/2020 at 1:23 AM, Jotari said:

Well the poll hasn't been put up yet so that's good enough for me to post. If anyone is personally litigious enough to not read or vote for it on those grounds then fair enough.

 

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...When you stop and think about it, bread is just like chickens. You raise it specifically so you can chop off one of the ends and consume it.

In other news since apparently eclipse still exists:

On 10/4/2020 at 2:45 AM, eclipse said:

I'm back solely to post an entry for this.  Turns out the thing I'm writing off-site fits this prompt perfectly!

Title: Fashionably Offensive
Fandom: Original
Words:
Notes: The lack of names is intentional.  Yes, there's a world behind it, and no, I'm not going to go too much into detail on a public forum.  Ending's rough because it should segue into a lot of other things.  If the premise seems vaguely familiar. . .it's not an accident.

  Reveal hidden contents

The gods had it out for me today.

It would've been far more pleasant if I had found anyone ELSE in this forsaken alley.  But him?  He was a head taller than me and roughly my weight plus half, all of the difference in muscle.  The only witnesses to the beating I would most likely receive would be a pair of dirty yellow dumpsters, overflowing with trash.

Not only was I in for something that would most likely put me in the hospital, I would smell awful afterwards.

He roared and charged.  One of the advantages I had was speed, and I ducked and stepped to the side.  Undeterred, he pivoted on his heel and swung a meaty fist towards my face.  Rather than have him rearrange my relatively handsome features, I lurched further to the side.  The dumpsters protested with a metal clang as I ran into them, and I used their metallic bulk to right myself.  It shifted when I put pushed against it.  Interesting.

"You'll pay," he growled.

"For what?  You aren't selling anything!" I replied cheekily.  His size wasn't as threatening if I could cloud his judgment.  The growl from his throat told me that my verbal jab had been spot-on.  Instead of charging me, he swung his fist towards my midsection.  The world slowed down, and I saw myself grab his wrist and guide it behind me.  Time righted itself when a bang and a lot of swearing indicated that my plan had worked.

"YOU KNOW WHY!" he shouted.  Despite his new hand wound, he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me roughly into the wall next to the dumpsters.  My vision momentarily blurred, and I heard my head bounce off the wall.  His fist found my solar plexus, and I felt whatever was left of my breakfast rise up in my throat.

"That hurt, you bastard," I coughed out weakly.  He'd go for my face next, like he always did.  I had guided his right fist towrads the dumpster, so I relied on my instincts to dodge the blow I couldn't see coming.  I felt nothing, but heard more swearing.  Good.  Maybe I'd get out of this without too many serious injuries.  When I dared to look up, his left hand sported flecks of blood.

"You still haven't landed a punch on me," he bragged.

"Don't have to.  You're doing a fine job of beating the crap out of yourself."  The pain in my stomach subsided, and I gingerly stood up.  My green eyes locked with his blue ones, which burned with anger and jealously.  Right, we'd both been interested in the same girl, but she only had eyes for one of us.  First date had gone swimmingly, too.  Was going to meet her tonight, injuries permitting.

"Well fine.  I'll stand here and block you in until you do something.  I'm free for the rest of the day."  Now that wouldn't do!  I launched a jab at his face, which he easily evaded.  He wasn't fast enough to dodge the kick aimed as his shins.  Pain rang through my leg after my foot connected.  What was he wearing under his pants?  The attack had knocked him on his rear, and we stayed apart for a few seconds.  My leg sang while he stood up unsteadily.

"The hell was that?" I mumbled.  He grabbed my jacket and yanked me towards him.  Instead, the material came apart like an old plastic bag, which left my jacket in tatters and him with a handful of useless black cloth.  He started dumbfoundedly at his new acquisition, while I used the momentum to swing my elbow into his chest.  He grunted.

"You always hit like a girl," he said evenly.

"Sounds like a compliment," I said with a grin.  Before he could process my response, I extended my arm and the back of my fist connected with his face.  Chances are, everything below his waist would hurt me if I tried to strike him there.  I brought my knee up to his stomach, then finished with a proper punch to his face.  He staggered back.

"I almost felt that," came the smug reply.  The blood from his nose said otherwise.  With speed that belied his frame, he closed in, slamming his shin into mine.  Pain blossomed in my legs, and I yelped.  Next came another blow to my stomach, followed by a hand to my throat.  He slammed my head against the wall.  This time, my vision doubled.  Out of desperation, I flatted the back of my hands against the inside of his arms, and raked down.  Much to my surprise, I felt blood on my fingers.  He screamed and let me go.

"THAT was not cool!"  I had to agree with my assailant on that one.  It was a move that would only work on someone who wore a short-sleeved shirt like his, but damn if it wasn't effective in breaking someone's stranglehold!

"Be thankful I didn't target your pretty blue eyes," I responded sarcastically.  In response, he grabbed me by my hair and threw me against the dumpster.  Instead, I fell to the floor, which was now made of plain metal.  Gone was the abandoned alley, replaced by a room made of steel.  The smell of the dumpster lingered.

"That's enough, you two!" came the voice of a cranky old man from the speakers.  "Any more and you'll both end up in the hospital for the next few days!"

"I have plans tonight!" I complained.  My opponent stared at his forearms instead of helping me up.

"Really, what the hell.  Nail polish shouldn't leave these kinds of injuries!"  He turned his arms to me, which steadily dripped blood.

"I could ask the same of you.  What kind of pants are you wearing?"  He opened his mouth to answer, but the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"The two of you will be debriefed AFTER the hospital gives you a clean bill of health.  And after we get that nail polish off both of you."

"You too?" I asked.

"It serves a different purpose," my opponent grumbled.  He gingerly ran his nails over his bloodied arms.  I grimaced in sympathy.  "Do I need to carry you to the hospital?"  I shook my head and bit back a wave of nausea.  He shrugged and walked towards the door, with me following unsteady in his wake.

The world blurred.  I would miss tonight's date.  The last thing I remembered was my opponent desperately yelling for someone to bring a stretcher.

 

Spoiler

This is pretty solid too, you did a good job of getting me interested in the world behind this story specifically - what was under the one guy's pants? Why is nail polish an important part of this combat? What happened to the one who overexerted themselves, assuming that was even what happened? Pretty solid work at catching my interest.

 

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On 10/12/2020 at 10:59 AM, SoulWeaver said:

...When you stop and think about it, bread is just like chickens. You raise it specifically so you can chop off one of the ends and consume it.

In other news since apparently eclipse still exists:

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In order:

Spoiler

1 and 2. While it's not stated explicitly, it's actually a testing run for some wearable tech along with a practical sparring match featuring our narrator.  I felt that the postmortem would be just as long as the story itself, which wasn't the point of the prompt (tl;dr - everything needs to go back to the drawing board).  Can write out the report if you're interested.

3. Few days in the hospital.  It wasn't overexertion that caused the collapse, it was a head injury (that's what happens when your head is slammed into a solid object more than once).  Other guy also wound up in the hospital.  The higher-ups had enough foresight to put them on separate floors.

 

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On 10/11/2020 at 10:03 PM, Jotari said:

But it worked before 😞

y-...yeah, but then I'd have had to put my own entry in, and that just felt dirty.

So I did you dirty instead.

Hm.

Maybe that wasn't a continent decision.

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28 minutes ago, eclipse said:

In order:

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1 and 2. While it's not stated explicitly, it's actually a testing run for some wearable tech along with a practical sparring match featuring our narrator.  I felt that the postmortem would be just as long as the story itself, which wasn't the point of the prompt (tl;dr - everything needs to go back to the drawing board).  Can write out the report if you're interested.

3. Few days in the hospital.  It wasn't overexertion that caused the collapse, it was a head injury (that's what happens when your head is slammed into a solid object more than once).  Other guy also wound up in the hospital.  The higher-ups had enough foresight to put them on separate floors.

 

I mean, I don't know about anyone else, but I'd be down to read the concepts if you feel like sharing.

23 minutes ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

y-...yeah, but then I'd have had to put my own entry in, and that just felt dirty.

So I did you dirty instead.

Hm.

Maybe that wasn't a continent decision.

Yeah, maybe only a country decision. Or a state one. Not quite down to county level though.

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Before I get into any stories I just want to echo what I said in my own prompt. For me a fight scene in fiction lives or dies on the emotional stakes and context of why the fight is happening. Especially in a non visual setting where technical description doesn't have the benefit of being visually impressive. And given these are by design short stories, I think it'll be very hard to build a story that achieves that. Not to say that I found this a bad prompt. Indeed I wish I'd set aside some more time and wrote something original for it as it can be fun. And I really don't expect anyone to follow my particular philosophy when it comes to the merits of fighting in fiction.

On 10/4/2020 at 5:45 PM, eclipse said:

I'm back solely to post an entry for this.  Turns out the thing I'm writing off-site fits this prompt perfectly!

Title: Fashionably Offensive
Fandom: Original
Words:
Notes: The lack of names is intentional.  Yes, there's a world behind it, and no, I'm not going to go too much into detail on a public forum.  Ending's rough because it should segue into a lot of other things.  If the premise seems vaguely familiar. . .it's not an accident.

  Hide contents

The gods had it out for me today.

It would've been far more pleasant if I had found anyone ELSE in this forsaken alley.  But him?  He was a head taller than me and roughly my weight plus half, all of the difference in muscle.  The only witnesses to the beating I would most likely receive would be a pair of dirty yellow dumpsters, overflowing with trash.

Not only was I in for something that would most likely put me in the hospital, I would smell awful afterwards.

He roared and charged.  One of the advantages I had was speed, and I ducked and stepped to the side.  Undeterred, he pivoted on his heel and swung a meaty fist towards my face.  Rather than have him rearrange my relatively handsome features, I lurched further to the side.  The dumpsters protested with a metal clang as I ran into them, and I used their metallic bulk to right myself.  It shifted when I put pushed against it.  Interesting.

"You'll pay," he growled.

"For what?  You aren't selling anything!" I replied cheekily.  His size wasn't as threatening if I could cloud his judgment.  The growl from his throat told me that my verbal jab had been spot-on.  Instead of charging me, he swung his fist towards my midsection.  The world slowed down, and I saw myself grab his wrist and guide it behind me.  Time righted itself when a bang and a lot of swearing indicated that my plan had worked.

"YOU KNOW WHY!" he shouted.  Despite his new hand wound, he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me roughly into the wall next to the dumpsters.  My vision momentarily blurred, and I heard my head bounce off the wall.  His fist found my solar plexus, and I felt whatever was left of my breakfast rise up in my throat.

"That hurt, you bastard," I coughed out weakly.  He'd go for my face next, like he always did.  I had guided his right fist towrads the dumpster, so I relied on my instincts to dodge the blow I couldn't see coming.  I felt nothing, but heard more swearing.  Good.  Maybe I'd get out of this without too many serious injuries.  When I dared to look up, his left hand sported flecks of blood.

"You still haven't landed a punch on me," he bragged.

"Don't have to.  You're doing a fine job of beating the crap out of yourself."  The pain in my stomach subsided, and I gingerly stood up.  My green eyes locked with his blue ones, which burned with anger and jealously.  Right, we'd both been interested in the same girl, but she only had eyes for one of us.  First date had gone swimmingly, too.  Was going to meet her tonight, injuries permitting.

"Well fine.  I'll stand here and block you in until you do something.  I'm free for the rest of the day."  Now that wouldn't do!  I launched a jab at his face, which he easily evaded.  He wasn't fast enough to dodge the kick aimed as his shins.  Pain rang through my leg after my foot connected.  What was he wearing under his pants?  The attack had knocked him on his rear, and we stayed apart for a few seconds.  My leg sang while he stood up unsteadily.

"The hell was that?" I mumbled.  He grabbed my jacket and yanked me towards him.  Instead, the material came apart like an old plastic bag, which left my jacket in tatters and him with a handful of useless black cloth.  He started dumbfoundedly at his new acquisition, while I used the momentum to swing my elbow into his chest.  He grunted.

"You always hit like a girl," he said evenly.

"Sounds like a compliment," I said with a grin.  Before he could process my response, I extended my arm and the back of my fist connected with his face.  Chances are, everything below his waist would hurt me if I tried to strike him there.  I brought my knee up to his stomach, then finished with a proper punch to his face.  He staggered back.

"I almost felt that," came the smug reply.  The blood from his nose said otherwise.  With speed that belied his frame, he closed in, slamming his shin into mine.  Pain blossomed in my legs, and I yelped.  Next came another blow to my stomach, followed by a hand to my throat.  He slammed my head against the wall.  This time, my vision doubled.  Out of desperation, I flatted the back of my hands against the inside of his arms, and raked down.  Much to my surprise, I felt blood on my fingers.  He screamed and let me go.

"THAT was not cool!"  I had to agree with my assailant on that one.  It was a move that would only work on someone who wore a short-sleeved shirt like his, but damn if it wasn't effective in breaking someone's stranglehold!

"Be thankful I didn't target your pretty blue eyes," I responded sarcastically.  In response, he grabbed me by my hair and threw me against the dumpster.  Instead, I fell to the floor, which was now made of plain metal.  Gone was the abandoned alley, replaced by a room made of steel.  The smell of the dumpster lingered.

"That's enough, you two!" came the voice of a cranky old man from the speakers.  "Any more and you'll both end up in the hospital for the next few days!"

"I have plans tonight!" I complained.  My opponent stared at his forearms instead of helping me up.

"Really, what the hell.  Nail polish shouldn't leave these kinds of injuries!"  He turned his arms to me, which steadily dripped blood.

"I could ask the same of you.  What kind of pants are you wearing?"  He opened his mouth to answer, but the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"The two of you will be debriefed AFTER the hospital gives you a clean bill of health.  And after we get that nail polish off both of you."

"You too?" I asked.

"It serves a different purpose," my opponent grumbled.  He gingerly ran his nails over his bloodied arms.  I grimaced in sympathy.  "Do I need to carry you to the hospital?"  I shook my head and bit back a wave of nausea.  He shrugged and walked towards the door, with me following unsteady in his wake.

The world blurred.  I would miss tonight's date.  The last thing I remembered was my opponent desperately yelling for someone to bring a stretcher.

 

Spoiler

I feel we're definitely wanting for context in this one. There's a bit of an explanation towards the fight in the middle that would probably serve better at the start. That aside it feels like there's no real stakes here. Brutal actions and attacks are described but the tone is completely casual and it ends with no real resolution. If it were just one side that was angry and the other was coyly trying to get away that's make some sense, but the protagonist is going on the offensive just as much and seems more into the fight than the inial desire to not be there would suggest.

@AnonymousSpeed Both the first two links in the op link to Eclipes's story instead of one for soul weaver's. Not only do you reject my story, but now you expect me to exert minimal effort to go searching for someone else's. Absolutely unforgivable. No matter the prompt my next story will be a tear down of you revealing to everyone the reason you speed is anonymous is because it is pathetic.

On 10/9/2020 at 10:16 AM, SoulWeaver said:

Aaaalrightalrightalright, ladies and gents, let's see what you all think.

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Spoiler

Oh wow. Very similar vibes from the opening of this one to my own. Even a dislike of titles. Huh. Not sure if that enamors me with the piece or just makes me feel unoriginal with my own entry. Overall though I did like this one. The characters managed to come to life and their playful chatting managed to work for the characters they were. However I have two pretty big problems. One is that I have absolutely no idea why they're fighting. I gather it's because Kilin is a reaper, and I can assume what that entails. But who hunted who? Which one is the aggressor? It goes into why they fight philosophically speaking, but not in an immediate contextual sense. The second issue is a sense of setting. Perhaps it's mentioned somewhere, but reading the story the characters might as well be in a void. There are no details of the setting that registered at all. Maybe you mentioned something, but I'm glancing at the first few paragraphs and there's nothing there and that's where it needs to be. I have no clue if these two people are fighting in a forest, or on a skyscraper or on a snowy mountain or in a volcano. It could be absolutely anywhere and that's not exactly a good thing. Even if it is in a featureless void with no terrain to make use of, say that. Describe what that looks and feels like visually. This is a pretty big issue with the story that could be solved in just a single line to say they're in a damp cave or something (of course we shouldn't depend on a single line to establish a sense of space, but one line is way, way better than none at all).

 

On 10/4/2020 at 1:40 PM, TheSilentChloey said:

Title: Birb vs Birb

Words: 2,162

Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes (/Awakening )

So I got it done, as in one of two.  The second one...well it's not finished yet and features two fights.

 

Spoiler

Before I dive into the story as a whole, I'm just going to focus on this paragraph.

Today, it wasn't even about Loki however.  No, today it was a certain grouchy Fell Dragon stalking the halls of the castle in clear irritation at the less than ideal situation that had arisen since a series of annoying events had occurred in her world, forcing her to be...absent for a time.

If it's not relevant, why are you telling us about Loki? That was my initial reaction, but on analysis I suppose it was to set a sense of tone. A much bigger reason I wanted to take this paragraph specifically is because I thought this was going to be about female Grima. Can you see why? It's because you refer to her without establishing who she is at all. Now maybe this is just a basic slip up that we're all prone to. But it got me thinking that perhaps this was intentional, as it shows Grima's mindset as only ever being focused on the summoner. And maybe that could work if only Grima were actually male and not a character of variable gender. If that is the intention it'd need to be reworked a bit to get around it. Namely stick a pronoun in earlier in the sentence to establish Grima as male to the her clearly won't be in reference to him.

And I know you write about male Grima and yourself as the summoner a lot, but that shouldn't really be relevant for a standalone story. You very well could decide to write about female Grima at some point and I won't really know until it's specified.

Okay that, perhaps over analytical examination of one point aide, the overall story. Robin himself notes how maybe he shouldn't have sunk to Grima's level so quickly, but even with that lampshade hanging I think it was way too sudden that things escalated. For one, we have no idea what the conversation Grima jumped into was even about. Robin later mentions Lucina so we can infer after the fact that it had something to do with her, but things just go from 0 to 90 suddenly. I think slower escalation with could have worked better. On the fight itself there's really not much description of what's going on. Just the word aura tossed around along with a lot of terms from Fire Emblem itself referenced that don't actually provide a visual. Lastly it seems a bit inconsistent as to what this story is about. And by that I mean who it's about. We start from Grima's perspective, move on to Reflet's (don't know who that is) and then end on Robin's. There lacks a consistent true line as to what the focus of the narrative is. Is it about Grima blowing off steam? Is it about stopping the fight? Is it about Robin surviving Grima or learning something from the experience. It tries to kind of be all these things and thus kind of ends up being about nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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9 hours ago, Jotari said:

Before I get into any stories I just want to echo what I said in my own prompt. For me a fight scene in fiction lives or dies on the emotional stakes and context of why the fight is happening. Especially in a non visual setting where technical description doesn't have the benefit of being visually impressive. And given these are by design short stories, I think it'll be very hard to build a story that achieves that. Not to say that I found this a bad prompt. Indeed I wish I'd set aside some more time and wrote something original for it as it can be fun. And I really don't expect anyone to follow my particular philosophy when it comes to the merits of fighting in fiction.

  Reveal hidden contents

I feel we're definitely wanting for context in this one. There's a bit of an explanation towards the fight in the middle that would probably serve better at the start. That aside it feels like there's no real stakes here. Brutal actions and attacks are described but the tone is completely casual and it ends with no real resolution. If it were just one side that was angry and the other was coyly trying to get away that's make some sense, but the protagonist is going on the offensive just as much and seems more into the fight than the inial desire to not be there would suggest.

@AnonymousSpeed Both the first two links in the op link to Eclipes's story instead of one for soul weaver's. Not only do you reject my story, but now you expect me to exert minimal effort to go searching for someone else's. Absolutely unforgivable. No matter the prompt my next story will be a tear down of you revealing to everyone the reason you speed is anonymous is because it is pathetic.

 

  Reveal hidden contents

Oh wow. Very similar vibes from the opening of this one to my own. Even a dislike of titles. Huh. Not sure if that enamors me with the piece or just makes me feel unoriginal with my own entry. Overall though I did like this one. The characters managed to come to life and their playful chatting managed to work for the characters they were. However I have two pretty big problems. One is that I have absolutely no idea why they're fighting. I gather it's because Kilin is a reaper, and I can assume what that entails. But who hunted who? Which one is the aggressor? It goes into why they fight philosophically speaking, but not in an immediate contextual sense. The second issue is a sense of setting. Perhaps it's mentioned somewhere, but reading the story the characters might as well be in a void. There are no details of the setting that registered at all. Maybe you mentioned something, but I'm glancing at the first few paragraphs and there's nothing there and that's where it needs to be. I have no clue if these two people are fighting in a forest, or on a skyscraper or on a snowy mountain or in a volcano. It could be absolutely anywhere and that's not exactly a good thing. Even if it is in a featureless void with no terrain to make use of, say that. Describe what that looks and feels like visually. This is a pretty big issue with the story that could be solved in just a single line to say they're in a damp cave or something (of course we shouldn't depend on a single line to establish a sense of space, but one line is way, way better than none at all).

 

 

  Reveal hidden contents

Before I dive into the story as a whole, I'm just going to focus on this paragraph.

Today, it wasn't even about Loki however.  No, today it was a certain grouchy Fell Dragon stalking the halls of the castle in clear irritation at the less than ideal situation that had arisen since a series of annoying events had occurred in her world, forcing her to be...absent for a time.

If it's not relevant, why are you telling us about Loki? That was my initial reaction, but on analysis I suppose it was to set a sense of tone. A much bigger reason I wanted to take this paragraph specifically is because I thought this was going to be about female Grima. Can you see why? It's because you refer to her without establishing who she is at all. Now maybe this is just a basic slip up that we're all prone to. But it got me thinking that perhaps this was intentional, as it shows Grima's mindset as only ever being focused on the summoner. And maybe that could work if only Grima were actually male and not a character of variable gender. If that is the intention it'd need to be reworked a bit to get around it. Namely stick a pronoun in earlier in the sentence to establish Grima as male to the her clearly won't be in reference to him.

And I know you write about male Grima and yourself as the summoner a lot, but that shouldn't really be relevant for a standalone story. You very well could decide to write about female Grima at some point and I won't really know until it's specified.

Okay that, perhaps over analytical examination of one point aide, the overall story. Robin himself notes how maybe he shouldn't have sunk to Grima's level so quickly, but even with that lampshade hanging I think it was way too sudden that things escalated. For one, we have no idea what the conversation Grima jumped into was even about. Robin later mentions Lucina so we can infer after the fact that it had something to do with her, but things just go from 0 to 90 suddenly. I think slower escalation with could have worked better. On the fight itself there's really not much description of what's going on. Just the word aura tossed around along with a lot of terms from Fire Emblem itself referenced that don't actually provide a visual. Lastly it seems a bit inconsistent as to what this story is about. And by that I mean who it's about. We start from Grima's perspective, move on to Reflet's (don't know who that is) and then end on Robin's. There lacks a consistent true line as to what the focus of the narrative is. Is it about Grima blowing off steam? Is it about stopping the fight? Is it about Robin surviving Grima or learning something from the experience. It tries to kind of be all these things and thus kind of ends up being about nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That was kind of the point of the whole thing.  They got into a pointless fight for the sake of it... (though if I say Grima, I am generally if not always referring to Male Grima.  Gimurei is always female and practically never the male version.  If you haven't noticed it by now, shame on you,) Grima was being a dick, and Robin was frustrated.  Sometimes even the most level headed people can be provoked to fighting without warning if the right buttons are pushed (and I can tell you right now that Grima knows all of Robin's buttons so it's not that difficult to see it happen).

 

Also it was meant to reference Loki since she was the one who'd put Grima in the fowl mood in the first place (because I wanted to give the reader the impression of the fact that Loki is almost always behind these things in one form or another).  I probably could have included Loki being yelled at for good measure, but that would have detracted from the scene imo.

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9 hours ago, Jotari said:

Before I get into any stories I just want to echo what I said in my own prompt. For me a fight scene in fiction lives or dies on the emotional stakes and context of why the fight is happening. Especially in a non visual setting where technical description doesn't have the benefit of being visually impressive. And given these are by design short stories, I think it'll be very hard to build a story that achieves that. Not to say that I found this a bad prompt. Indeed I wish I'd set aside some more time and wrote something original for it as it can be fun. And I really don't expect anyone to follow my particular philosophy when it comes to the merits of fighting in fiction.

And this was actually the very reason I chose this prompt in the first place. I find fight scenes to be a great way to help better understand how storytelling works because that’s what a fight scene is at the end of the day. A little self-contained story. Well self-contained probably isn’t the right word but whatever. A fight in it of itself is just a character interaction just with less dialogue and more well punching. I wanted to see how well you guys could write a fight scene while creating that emotional narrative within the fight itself without any pre-established build up. I just thought it would be an interesting excercise

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1 hour ago, TheSilentChloey said:

If you haven't noticed it by now, shame on you,

Lol, keep in mind Jotari's been absent from the writing for a while, probably hasn't noticed your worldbuilding.

 

11 hours ago, Jotari said:

 

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Oh wow. Very similar vibes from the opening of this one to my own. Even a dislike of titles. Huh. Not sure if that enamors me with the piece or just makes me feel unoriginal with my own entry. Overall though I did like this one. The characters managed to come to life and their playful chatting managed to work for the characters they were. However I have two pretty big problems. One is that I have absolutely no idea why they're fighting. I gather it's because Kilin is a reaper, and I can assume what that entails. But who hunted who? Which one is the aggressor? It goes into why they fight philosophically speaking, but not in an immediate contextual sense. The second issue is a sense of setting. Perhaps it's mentioned somewhere, but reading the story the characters might as well be in a void. There are no details of the setting that registered at all. Maybe you mentioned something, but I'm glancing at the first few paragraphs and there's nothing there and that's where it needs to be. I have no clue if these two people are fighting in a forest, or on a skyscraper or on a snowy mountain or in a volcano. It could be absolutely anywhere and that's not exactly a good thing. Even if it is in a featureless void with no terrain to make use of, say that. Describe what that looks and feels like visually. This is a pretty big issue with the story that could be solved in just a single line to say they're in a damp cave or something (of course we shouldn't depend on a single line to establish a sense of space, but one line is way, way better than none at all).

 

Spoiler

I mostly just found it a curious coincidence.

One-Armed Reaper is a difficult beast, for an entirely different reason than my other pre-existing stuff. It was initially a game concept that sort of morphed into a book idea, which is why I chose to use it for this prompt, to test how well I could put fight ideas in my head onto paper. This is probably my first serious attempt at writing a fight scene like ever, so it's definitely not horribly refined. Going back and looking at my other pieces I've put on here that were based on my pre-existing stuff, you can usually find either a nice big pre-read exposition dump or a big post-read batch of notes, but in this instance I decided to just see how well the piece stands on its own, both to test my own writing and because all the previous times I used my pre-existing stuff someone made mention of the fact that I used such extensive notes and did so in a negative light.
If you'd like I'd be happy to give you the condensed exposition notes for the more pressing background details, but regardless, thanks for the feedback, the issue of setting is especially helpful, I could have sworn I made mention of it being on a battlefield early on, but no, the first real mention of setting is halfway through the second page when Hercetus knocks Kilin into one of the fires dotting the battlefield, which is definitely something I'll have to work on in the future.

 

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41 minutes ago, SoulWeaver said:

Lol, keep in mind Jotari's been absent from the writing for a while, probably hasn't noticed your worldbuilding.

 

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I mostly just found it a curious coincidence.

One-Armed Reaper is a difficult beast, for an entirely different reason than my other pre-existing stuff. It was initially a game concept that sort of morphed into a book idea, which is why I chose to use it for this prompt, to test how well I could put fight ideas in my head onto paper. This is probably my first serious attempt at writing a fight scene like ever, so it's definitely not horribly refined. Going back and looking at my other pieces I've put on here that were based on my pre-existing stuff, you can usually find either a nice big pre-read exposition dump or a big post-read batch of notes, but in this instance I decided to just see how well the piece stands on its own, both to test my own writing and because all the previous times I used my pre-existing stuff someone made mention of the fact that I used such extensive notes and did so in a negative light.
If you'd like I'd be happy to give you the condensed exposition notes for the more pressing background details, but regardless, thanks for the feedback, the issue of setting is especially helpful, I could have sworn I made mention of it being on a battlefield early on, but no, the first real mention of setting is halfway through the second page when Hercetus knocks Kilin into one of the fires dotting the battlefield, which is definitely something I'll have to work on in the future.

 

I think not relying on a pre or post info dump amended to a story is a good thing, but only really if you can naturally work that info to establish the context in the story naturally. Here for example, solving the issue of the setting would have helped explain the reason they're fighting more too. If we know they're on a battlefield with other people fighting all around them then it becomes less of a question as to why they're personally fighting as we know they're acting as soldiers of some sort in a larger conflict, and we don't necessarily have to know much about the larger conflict to know why they're there.

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7 hours ago, SoulWeaver said:

Lol, keep in mind Jotari's been absent from the writing for a while, probably hasn't noticed your worldbuilding.

 

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I mostly just found it a curious coincidence.

One-Armed Reaper is a difficult beast, for an entirely different reason than my other pre-existing stuff. It was initially a game concept that sort of morphed into a book idea, which is why I chose to use it for this prompt, to test how well I could put fight ideas in my head onto paper. This is probably my first serious attempt at writing a fight scene like ever, so it's definitely not horribly refined. Going back and looking at my other pieces I've put on here that were based on my pre-existing stuff, you can usually find either a nice big pre-read exposition dump or a big post-read batch of notes, but in this instance I decided to just see how well the piece stands on its own, both to test my own writing and because all the previous times I used my pre-existing stuff someone made mention of the fact that I used such extensive notes and did so in a negative light.
If you'd like I'd be happy to give you the condensed exposition notes for the more pressing background details, but regardless, thanks for the feedback, the issue of setting is especially helpful, I could have sworn I made mention of it being on a battlefield early on, but no, the first real mention of setting is halfway through the second page when Hercetus knocks Kilin into one of the fires dotting the battlefield, which is definitely something I'll have to work on in the future.

 

Probably, but I've been doing it for a very long time, pretty much since I got both Grimas.  It's not just world building, it's also present in other situations (where Jotari would have seen it if they're in the Heroes forums as well).

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16 hours ago, SoulWeaver said:

Lol, keep in mind Jotari's been absent from the writing for a while, probably hasn't noticed your worldbuilding.

 

8 hours ago, TheSilentChloey said:

Probably, but I've been doing it for a very long time, pretty much since I got both Grimas.  It's not just world building, it's also present in other situations (where Jotari would have seen it if they're in the Heroes forums as well).

I did address this point people.

On 10/15/2020 at 7:28 PM, Jotari said:

 

And I know you write about male Grima and yourself as the summoner a lot, but that shouldn't really be relevant for a standalone story. You very well could decide to write about female Grima at some point and I won't really know until it's specified.

 

Edited by Jotari

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7 hours ago, Jotari said:

I did address this point people.

Well let's put it this way, Hentaii Heroes is the only place the swap happened (but it hasn't happened again) and if I do write about female Grima, it'll be Gimurei to remove that confusion lol.

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So I finally got around to reading the entries for this round I guess I'll give feedback then:

@eclipse

Interesting read and it's probably the closest to what I personally wanted to see out of this prompt. It was fast, engaging, and kept me invested the whole time. Not really much else to say. I like how you described the two combatants in terms of frame and build. It very easily makes the PoV character stand out as the underdog as his opponent is described as much bigger. I like little details like that. But yeah this was a good one.

@SoulWeaver

This one was okay. I didn't particularly care for the conflict at hand so I mostly unengaged but minor nitpick. It was simple but I feel like the story could've done better a third-person limited PoV rather than omniscient. I dunno. My main issue is that I felt overall disconnected from the characters involved but other than that it was fine, I suppose.

@TheSilentChloey

The conflict in this story was stupid and petty but that's why I like it. I just kinda like how the whole conflict is basically just Grima saying "Fuck you!" and Robin just not having it. It's dumb, it's petty, and stupid as all hell but I won't lie and say I wasn't entertained. I also like how they're just taking jabs at each others' girlfriends as if this whole thing couldn't get anymore petty than it already has. I dunno I just really like the idea of Grima just being an asshole for like no reason. It amuses me greatly.

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15 minutes ago, Ottservia said:

So I finally got around to reading the entries for this round I guess I'll give feedback then:

@eclipse

Interesting read and it's probably the closest to what I personally wanted to see out of this prompt. It was fast, engaging, and kept me invested the whole time. Not really much else to say. I like how you described the two combatants in terms of frame and build. It very easily makes the PoV character stand out as the underdog as his opponent is described as much bigger. I like little details like that. But yeah this was a good one.

@SoulWeaver

This one was okay. I didn't particularly care for the conflict at hand so I mostly unengaged but minor nitpick. It was simple but I feel like the story could've done better a third-person limited PoV rather than omniscient. I dunno. My main issue is that I felt overall disconnected from the characters involved but other than that it was fine, I suppose.

@TheSilentChloey

The conflict in this story was stupid and petty but that's why I like it. I just kinda like how the whole conflict is basically just Grima saying "Fuck you!" and Robin just not having it. It's dumb, it's petty, and stupid as all hell but I won't lie and say I wasn't entertained. I also like how they're just taking jabs at each others' girlfriends as if this whole thing couldn't get anymore petty than it already has. I dunno I just really like the idea of Grima just being an asshole for like no reason. It amuses me greatly.

I'm glad you're entertained.  Especially since I was aiming for it to be pretty much a very petty fight.  The jabs came rather naturally as well which I liked.  Also both of them being semi sheepish afterwards was fun to write lol

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20 hours ago, Ottservia said:

This one was okay. I didn't particularly care for the conflict at hand so I mostly unengaged but minor nitpick. It was simple but I feel like the story could've done better a third-person limited PoV rather than omniscient. I dunno. My main issue is that I felt overall disconnected from the characters involved but other than that it was fine, I suppose.

 

 

Yeah, it was more built around me practicing actually writing the fighting itself out. I would probably use a different setting if I do another fight scene, to practice linking a larger story to the actual fight itself. When you say third-person limited PoV, do you mean like an actual third person acting as an onlooker?

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9 hours ago, SoulWeaver said:

Yeah, it was more built around me practicing actually writing the fighting itself out. I would probably use a different setting if I do another fight scene, to practice linking a larger story to the actual fight itself. When you say third-person limited PoV, do you mean like an actual third person acting as an onlooker?

Third person limited is basically just first person except with third person pronouns and a little more wiggle room in terms of what can be described.

Also not to sound impatient but can we have the next prompt?

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You know, I've been meaning to ask.

Why use a separate website for the countdown and not just put closing times to the polls themselves?

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32 minutes ago, Acacia Sgt said:

You know, I've been meaning to ask.

Why use a separate website for the countdown and not just put closing times to the polls themselves?

I think it looks better, and a countdown gives a better sense of how much time you actually have left.

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Wait what how did I do best no where’s my LIIIIST

 

...In all seriousness, it’s fricking 1 in the morning, we’re waiting until post-church tomorrow.

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Huh, I didn't dream that happened. Uh...ok. So, uh, let's see...I already did Halloween-themed last year...holy frick it's been a whole year...uh...how about...ooh, @DarthR0xas could make some use of this one as a KH fan, not to mention the current state of FEH's story.

The prompt is to write about Dreams. You can make it about someone's life goal kind of dream, someone's sleeping dream, whatever comes to mind, but the focus of the piece is Dreams.

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40 minutes ago, SoulWeaver said:

The prompt is to write about Dreams. You can make it about someone's life goal kind of dream, someone's sleeping dream, whatever comes to mind, but the focus of the piece is Dreams.

Hmm, I do have some time this weekend.

Guess I'll have to go the dream drop distance for this one.

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Decided to submit an entry on a whim. Not sure if it'll qualify since only about half it it is actually a dream sequence, but here it is anyway.
-- I think I wrote this with about eight hours of active work over a course of a day, split into 4 hour segments.
-- Sorta not completely happy with how the 2nd half of the story turned out, especially the fight sequence, but it is what it is. My old RWBY works had better fights...

Title: Of Knights and Nightmares
-- 
Notes: Contains Action, Violence, and minor Blood.

Spoiler

The stream flowed softly here in the forest’s clearing, providing a platform for dancing lights that reflected the starry sky above. The night sky was clear, no clouds or moon, but instead shown the tapestry of the cosmos with the twinkling stars. A soft breeze rustles the leaves, singing a favorite lullaby of the nature mother. Dancing with the wind were the long bladed grass, celebrating the arrival of a weary traveler who has come to this hallowed place to rest.

Leaning against a large boulder, the knight slumps to the ground in exhaustion. He takes off his helmet, letting it drop to the ground. His eyes seemingly stare at something far off in the distance, but his expression remains blank. Looking at his plate armor, it has been cut by blades and dented by hammers. Blood finds refuge in the imperfections, staining the armor and refusing to come off. As for his sword, the tip is broken and its edge is chipped. Despite the skill of its wielder at parrying blows, a tool can only do so much when forged by an inexperienced apprentice.

Mother Nature comforts the man with her children, lulling him into slumber with the stability of stone, the flowing water, and the dancing wind. The warmth of fire is nowhere to be found, but far in the distance, beyond the trees and hills, lies a castle and its town in inferno. If one were to listen closely, one could hear the frightened cries of children calling for their mothers as they wander lost in the fiery blaze. A local priestess calls out for survivors, acting as a shining beacon as she leads the townsfolk to safety. Men are torn between courage and cowardice as one attempt to lift debris off his fallen friend, while another breaks into a wealthy merchant’s home to make off with exotic goods. None of that matters here, as the hills and the trees block sight and sound from disrupting the soldier’s rest.

 

Slowly, the wind dies down and only the gentle movement of the stream remained. All was silent save for the sudden rush of flowing water, transforming the stream into rapids as water violently crashed against dirt and stone. Immediately, the knight opens his eyes. Remaining still as if still in slumber, his eyes vigilantly scan the perimeter of the clearing where shadows manifest and dart between the trees. He inches his right hand closer to his polished blade on the stony floor, while his left hand tightens its grip on the kite shield protecting his chest. Then, he closes his eyes and patiently waits.

Soft foot-falls on the grass mean little when the clattering of metal against metal scare off the wildlife. Whispers in the dark of some incomprehensible language direct shadows to surround the clearing. The clattering becomes louder, especially where metal meets stone. The sounds quieten down to the point where one can only hear their own breathing.

Taking a risk, the knight opens his eyes to see a figure above him seething darkness. Its eyes burn with anger, and its plate armor has been sliced by swords and slammed by maces. At its side, the broken blade drips flesh blood. While it resembled a human in silhouette, it was no flesh and blood creature. It was a being of the abyss, and it hungers.

Sensing the knight’s awareness, a sinister smile appeared on the figure’s face. Suddenly, the shield made hard contact with the figure, bashing its head and forcing the shadow backwards. The knight followed this momentum by swinging his blade to decapitate his opponent. As the head went flying, while it made no sound, one could have sworn it was laughing…

The first shadow dissipates upon its defeat. Arising from the ground, the knight readies his sword and shield for the coming onslaught. Around him, the wind picks up. Leaves on trees shake with anger while the grass thrashes about wildly. Then, from the clearing’s edge, two shadows charge at the knight.

Lunging forward, one shadow attempts to plunge its blade into the knight, but he deflects the thrust aside with his shield. Retaliating with a horizontal slash, the forward momentum of the shadow proves to be its downfall as it is cut open. It appears the armor only mimics its subject matter and does little for actual defense as the shadow dissolves.

Meanwhile, the other figure slashes its sword without rhyme or reason as it continues its advance towards the knight. Dodging the blows while backpedaling, an opening is found where a single counter thrust fells the enemy. The knight stands valiantly, defending the clearing against the incoming shadows.

And then, they all came at once. The man charged forward to meet them, ducking under their blows and slashing three with a mighty cleave. He keeps surging forward, dispatching his opponents before they have a chance to react. Yet, even as the shadows disperse upon defeat, they simply reform elsewhere and charge once again. It mattered not how they were slain. One was shoved into the rapids and was supposedly washed away. Two were impaled simultaneously by the knight’s blade. They were tireless beings from the abyss. The knight was just a man.

Turning around and raising his shield to block an incoming blow, the force of the impact made him lose his grip momentarily. This was all that was needed as a second shadow uppercutted with its blade, sending the shield flying up and away from the knight, disappearing into the rapids.

Emboldened by their small victory, the shadows rushed him. Even with a skillful parry with his sword, the knight could not defend himself if they all struck at once. While the armor held, each impact staggered the man, and eventually he fell as the figures continued their assault.

 

Fatigued and weakened by the fighting, the knight closed his eyes as he waited for his end. Yet, it did not come. The waters still crashed with violence and the wind remained furious, but the sounds of metal upon metal were no more. Yet, does that even matter? He was a failure. Despite all of the effort spent for training, despite the connections made on the royal court, despite becoming a royal knight who served the princess directly, he remains a failure.

The princess was meant to be wed during the next Star Festival. She had finally fallen for one of her suitors, and the alliance between kingdoms were all but assured. The foreign prince was a charming man, but his correspondence stated otherwise. There were plans in place to use the wedding as a means for a hostile takeover, killing off the royal family while keeping the princess in place as a puppet. Upon opening a letter for himself and exposing the plan, the knight was shamed and exiled. No one believed him, in fact, they all suspected the loyal knight to be the traitor. Even appealing directly to the princess fell on deaf ears, so infatuated she was with her future husband she ignored the claims. At least she had to mercy to spare him from execution…

 

Suddenly, there was warmth. Opening his eyes in curiosity, the fallen knight found the visage of a young woman standing a short distance away. No longer was she in her normal garments, but instead in a wedding dress. Her face was covered by a veil, but she was smiling. How? Why was the princess here?

Rising from the floor with assistance from his sword, the knight found the source of the heat. Fire has come to this hallowed place, burning the trees and fields. The shadow figures were gone. It was just the knight, the princess, and the maelstrom of nature.

A loud roar came from the skies above. At this moment, the weary traveler came to a realization. He discards his weapon, ignores the princess, and simply stares at the night sky. An enormous shadow passes overhead, that of a flying serpent. The girl places out her hand, but the man did not move. He simply waits as he enjoys the vision of the tapestry of the cosmos.

Pillars of fire engulf the man as the crimson dragon swoops in to claim its prey. Clutching at the knight with its claws, the dragon moves its head to feast on its newfound morsel. The last thing the wanderer sees is the visage of the woman, saying words that he could not hear.

 

Moving through brush and undergrowth, the priestess finally makes it to a small, tranquil clearing in the forest. She urges the survivors to keep moving when a man with burnt hands point out an armored figure leaning against a boulder. The refugees recoil in fear, but the priestess steps forward to inspect the knight.

The design of his armor and helmet match that of the princess’ personal retinue, so he is not one of the invaders. More importantly, he lies in a puddle of blood. Reaching a hand out to check his pulse, there is no response. He is dead, much like many of the knights and royal family.

She mutters a short prayer and then urges the survivors to keep moving. There is a monastery up in the mountains that is neutral territory. They have abundant supplies and will know what to do with this mass of refugees.

As the peasants, merchants, craftsman, and some nobles continue to flee, a young boy comes up to the priestess, holding a battered shield. It is a blue shield, with the emblem of a golden lion on it. It represents the heraldry of this fallen kingdom. The child found this while lost in the inferno, saying it gave him strength to find and be reunited with his mother. Maybe the sleeping man needs strength too, or so thought the child.

The priestess took the shield and placed it next to the fallen knight, so now he was complete. Perhaps it was his actual shield that he lost when attempting to rescue the princess. No matter the case, it was time to move on. The nature mother will take care of the rest.

 

Far away, beyond the trees and hills, in the smoldering inferno, a red flag was being raised. It’s heraldry? The face of a black dragon.

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