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Author Topic: WRITING SURVIAL!!!  (Read 9847 times)

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Offline Coryn

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #135 on: September 29, 2012, 11:38:58 AM »
DOES NOBODY READ MY POSTS?!

don't lose hope quite yet! workshops never die. They just sleep sometimes. since they're always open to be done there's no reason not to participate.

Will review stories upon request. My latest arc: http://goo.gl/KYgsfF

Offline Darksquirrel

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #136 on: September 29, 2012, 01:57:40 PM »
Lol sorry coryn, i was gonna say that this is the kind of thread that needs to be active to work properly.
Light novel guildsmen, Click here



Offline Coryn

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #137 on: September 29, 2012, 07:28:19 PM »
one active person can bring others into the fold. someone always needs to make the first step

Will review stories upon request. My latest arc: http://goo.gl/KYgsfF

Offline Coach Fro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #138 on: November 10, 2012, 10:09:22 AM »
This topic really needs reanimation jutsu...
Messatsu...



Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #139 on: November 10, 2012, 10:50:32 AM »
you first bro >.>

Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #140 on: November 10, 2012, 01:09:47 PM »
All I remember is fire.

Twirling embers in bad sunlight, choked by dark poisonous clouds. The sound of engines, the smell of oil, the sound of screams, the sound of disaster. I was stumbling in the hard red dust, clutching for a foothold, staff barely vertical, scraping the ground. My red coat was heavy, coat tails and bands all loose and flailing. I remember thinking how useless the outfit was in real danger, how so useless the heavy leather cloak was. I remember slipping on my grip, holding up the portrait, looking into the art of The Strange Sages. And then I remember nothing but a black knife of pain and oblivion, and the ever escalating peal of my screams as I was possessed by the 24 demons.

Jud Possessed - Chapter 1ne

Offline Coach Fro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #141 on: November 10, 2012, 02:31:39 PM »
My turn

Gangs. Oh I how hate them. Especially the ones where I'm from. All they do in life is smoke weed, sell illegal drugs, smoke weed, have sex with random girls they don't even know, smoke more weed, kill innocent people and smoke more weed. Did I mention they smoke a lot of weed? Those sinful bastards! Every time I see one my blood boils. Pent up emotions inside of me begin to release. Bitter memories of gang members killing my older brother, raping my younger sister, and beating my friends nearly half to death drives me to the brink of insanity!

And it's funny. After 14 years of never ending madness, these same gangs that made my life a living hell are now the same ones my life depends on the most...
 
Messatsu...



Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #142 on: November 11, 2012, 01:10:40 AM »
It's never an easy road, never was, and never will be. The worst of the bad guys who throw away their emotions and rationalism to escape the pains of the world, can still get caught, can still get their own negatives in thier madness. They still clutch their heads, miserable for some moments, stuck to their humanity. And the good guys, well, let's not even start. We all know the phrase 'good guys finish last'. And oh? Stay in the middle? Be gray? Neither bad or good? They're worse off than everyone. Believe you me, because i'm one of them.

I never figured myself to be the narrating kind, so you'll have to bear with me. I know you want the info as fast as possible, but talking is the only way i know how to do things. Never get the nerve to implant myself. I'm no activist or anything. I just didn't want the hassle. Besides, being a vigilante like me can be a problem if i'm just one brain scan away. I'm better off considered the dregs of society, too broke to buy one of those things. I'm not particularly good at what i do - obviously, since i'm all caught here making a confession to the world - but i knew things - know things -. Before you get the needles under my skin, your going to know them. And maybe, just maybe, one of your iron hearts will melt, and maybe i'll have an apprentice running across the rooftops with my black cape, being The Magpie - the thief, the thief of life.

Offline Coach Fro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #143 on: November 11, 2012, 05:35:42 PM »
Mika had always thought her life could never be more perfect. She lived in the city of Takashigi, which was one the most well established cities in Japan. Her mother was the CEO of Japan's most popular clothing line and her father was vice president of Japan's most richest automotive company. She attended Nagashki High school where she was the head cheerleader of Nagashiki's football team and the most popular girl in the school to boot. Boys wanted her, girls envied her, and adults would pray that their children could aspire to be just like her. Mika had it all. Good looks, fame and most importantly: Money. Nothing could go wrong. Well, that's what Mika thought.

One fateful day, Mika returned home only to find that her entire living room was covered in blood. She dropped to her knees instantly and placed her hands over mouth. She trembled, tears were profusely pouring down from her eyes. Never she had thought she would be exposed to such horror. Then suddenly, her life changer walked in the room.

Her mother was covered in a blood soaked cooking apron. She dragged on the floor what appeared to be a demonic looking purple scythe. On her right shoulder was Mika's lifeless father, whose body seemed nearly ripped in half. Blood was dripping from both her father's marauded body and her mother's scythe.

Mika didn't know what to say. The situation overwhelmed her innocent mind. Her mother on the other hand, didn't seemed too phased. In fact, she smiled with a very twisted looking expression and greeted her daughter like any loving mother would do.

"Oh Hi honey! How was school?" 
Messatsu...



Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #144 on: November 12, 2012, 02:47:42 PM »
Yikes.

Anyhoo.



The road was washed yellow with the approaching headlights, and then like a receding tide it was all glossy black and white stripes. The boy walked along the dark road back to his dormitory, and there was nothing new nor interesting about the day. The weather was okay, the school work was piling up as usual, and there were butterflies in his chest because of that one beautiful girl. But it was all normal, all regular, because the next day he would do the same thing, he wouldn't deviate from his path. He would conform, and be like everyone else.

That is, until the aneurysm.

The next couple of weeks were a blur. He couldn't understand, didn't understand. He was very sick, he knew. His school work would strangle him, he also knew. But if he took it easy and did it right he would be back on his feet again. This was all he cared about. He didn't know what had truly happened till he got back into class.

He discovered he could do anything he wanted to. Nothing scared him anymore, nothing confused him anymore. He thought he was damaged, but then figured out a way to use it to his advantage. He posted all the poems he had left on the bottom of his drawer rotting and collecting dust. He began to run everyday. He kept his room pristine, he took care of himself, simply because he wanted to. He did everything and anything that he would've originally swallowed a pill of pessimism and washed away with a drink of rationalism.

The weird looks he got didn't phase him the least bit, and though it was all amazing when he was the top of his class and suddenly popular, he's seeming apathy extended to the achievements as well. It was a bit depressing, and he slowed down his sudden change a little. And then he remembered he had one last thing to do. She was still there. And she would solve his problem.

He found it funny that his throat was dry again, and his stomach had butterflies once again. The strange shield of the brain anuerysm had faded away, and he was happy as he headed towards her one day after class. He asked her out. She answered him.

Offline Coach Fro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #145 on: November 12, 2012, 10:10:17 PM »
Man I suck at writing... I need to up my game!



Fronomenal stood in the middle of what he thought was his beloved home. He was in utter shock, he felt as if his eyes was deceiving him. MR was in ruins. The once blue skies were now a deep crimson red and most of the city's skyscrapers were reduced to ash and rubble. Smoke polluted the air and endless flames corrupted the city streets. MR former beauty was stolen and been replaced with a more sickening and daunting image.

But the Fronomenal one was not willing to accept this...

He ran frantically through the city streets, desperately searching for other members of the city. He checked every district of the city but he wasn't able to find a single soul. He screamed at the top of his lungs, praying that someone would answer his call. But his prayers went unheard. He dropped to his knees. Hope was becoming dim for him. Then as he stared into the red sky, his hope was restored.

But not for long...

Messatsu...



Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #146 on: November 13, 2012, 11:35:56 PM »
sooo...

We both lost? >...< Gotsa make a worskshop i guess

Offline Coach Fro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #147 on: November 16, 2012, 10:44:42 PM »
Yup pretty much. I think I already got a workshop in mind.

Low key though... I actually chose to lose.
Messatsu...



Offline Coach Fro

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #148 on: July 06, 2018, 08:50:24 PM »
Don't mind me. Just getting my rocks off real quick

Spoiler
Disco somehow managed to dodge the first few bullets that flew at him. He thanked his superhuman speed for that. Of course, thanks would be in order for his grandma as well. Getting shot at by her and her AK-47 on a daily basis did wonders for his reflexes.

The two brutes dressed in black suits in front of him fired off more rounds from their assault riffles. Disco measured their distance way before the shoot off even kicked off. Ten feet. Twelve at the most. More than enough space to react accordingly. He figured they wouldn't try something up close. He knew they weren't that stupid. He is Disco Clementime after all. You never run the fade on Disco.

He bobbed and weaved in between their shots with ease. It was rhythmic. He looked like a dancing ghost phasing in and out of reality. The goons were sweating something fierce. Their hands trembled as they desperately kept firing. Was this kid really dodging all of their bullets, they were probably thinking. Well, yes he was. And he was grinning the whole time. That alone scared them sh!tless.

Rounds came to a halt and in the next moment the sound of a glock roared through the streets. The goon on the left blinked and would soon regret it. Disco was gone. Literally vanished out of thin air. The brute turned to his right and found his partner bleeding something nasty with a bullet lodged through his cranium. His jaw was left hanging. Eyes lifeless. His partner was chilling with the lord now, and the now loner gunman felt he would soon join him.

And in that same moment when the realization kicked in he felt something tugging on the back of his suit. He turned and saw his life flash before his eyes. But he didn't see anything silly like a white light filled with flashbacks of his entire past. Nope, he just saw Disco. A young kid with brown, short and thick dreads, wearing a blue headband with a pointy nose and a devilish grin on his face. Oh yeah, and his Glock 30 too. Can't forget that.     

Disco cocked the gun aimed. Right in between the brute's dilated eyes.

"It's Disco time, so let's boogie bitch!"

Bang! And then, nothing...   

Messatsu...



Offline JustHANO

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Re: WRITING SURVIAL!!!
« Reply #149 on: August 15, 2018, 06:33:33 PM »
I'll just hop myself in here.

#1

"Let me get this straight, you want me?"
"We would want his mother, but I doubt she'd help temper with her son's mind."
Still unsure of their choice, she asks,"We're both his students, so why would I be any better at this than you?"
"You mean besides you the fact you're an English major? Well you're also teacher's pet, so you know his habits and his method of thought better than us"
Emma was getting mixed vibes from Jayce. While he made the silly situation sound serious, his tone made her believe he either didn't actually want to ask for her help or this whole thing was some sort of dare.
"And this knowledge will be important when we dive in to make him give the whole class A's"
Jayce nods.
"So basically it's like inception..."
"Don't" He tell hers, but she slowly keeps inching her way into the next words.
"but with writing?!"
Jayce voiced his disappointment with a very long sigh.

Idk how to format a conversation neatly, I'd love any advice. Also, now that i wrote this paragraph I really want to continue this story lol.
« Last Edit: August 15, 2018, 06:38:48 PM by JustHANO »