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Re: Go Vote on the Best Story of 2014! VOTED!!!
March 23, 2015, 09:13:49 AM
Re: Peter Jackson to film new Middle Earth film Wow, That gave me some feels!
Good shot! I was about to jump into my rage panties and rant about it! Close call!  :o

April 09, 2015, 01:30:48 AM
Re: Member birthday calendar Merci tout le monde!!!  ;D

I bought myself fancy op-shop dresses, bought some food to cook myself a proper dinner, about to take the pear-apple-chocolate crumble out of the oven!
I also made some advances in my short story for the month, listened to the same techno track round and round, caught the tram without paying... A flat mate offered me beer and wine. It was a lovely day!
So thanks a lot to y'all!

April 10, 2015, 01:42:06 PM
Re: Real life experiences and non-fiction sources for better worldbuilding Thanks a lot @ArcaneArtsVelho that's very useful info to me so big thumbs up!!

Let me join the scientific simulator game by including a very useful page on nuclear bombs :
This bloke allows you to pin anywhere on google maps where to drop any of the main nukes in existence. You can see the drop, and the different regions of effect (fireball, radiation kill zone ect).
He has a link to a 3D page too.

If anyone wants a city nuked that's a must use! http://nuclearsecrecy.com/nukemap/

April 11, 2015, 12:33:04 AM
Re: Limited 3rd person POV and detailed descriptions
Ok, I think this pretty good overall. Generally I'm enjoying Erikson's writing so far. But:

From at least some distance on the road, Paran is able to see there are rings on every finger above and below the knuckles - not just a bunch of rings. The man doesn't just have leggings, he has linen leggings. His boots aren't green, they'd dyed green. And Paran notices how thin his belt is.

Here is my answer to you my good man. Have you considered that your main character here might simply be gay?
Afterall gay men often have, like most women, a very powerful fashion radar. Dyed shoes? Dear lord can't you spot that like a km away?  8) ;D

April 12, 2015, 04:35:44 AM
Re: Anonymous submission? OK, personally I voted "No" because I think it's an unnecessary hassle. How many new contributors wouldn't get through because of the odd proceedings?
Besides, I liked getting reviews and comments on my mini story and talking about it. I'd be sad to lose that potential.
Besides, people would then have to be nice and swear not to vote for themselves, but could we know they don't? Or that they wouldn't talk of their story via pm? Why make it a temptation?
Maybe I never realised how much of an issue friend-service was... is it really? Do people actually vote for their friends rather than their favourite story? I certainly wouldn't.
I think it would kill a lot of the fun. I like to evaluate who wrote what and have an idea of the style of everyone and would genuinely loath to have to re-read things while going up and down the forum to see who wrote each piece actually.

So yeah. I think it'd be a loss, I'm not up for it.

April 12, 2015, 12:40:43 PM
Re: The King's Paws
Elfy, I think we should place hope in Nora, think she mentioned dystopian or apocalyptic Melbourne somewhere ;)

Yaaw, but Elfy gave me good arguments against it. Now that I'm back in the city also, I see no point wrecking my brains out learning this huge city inside out and half rebuilding it, while I could create a local town. A lot of CBD areas would look lovely in this post apocalyptic setting, but the town is too uneven to sustain what I'm after. I'll make up a young city, built for nuclear immigrants and about 200 years old and make it like I need it. I'm planning a somber future for Melbourne itself  :P

April 13, 2015, 03:42:38 AM
Re: Best Dragon Art?



under water dragon? http://tinyurl.com/l6r4pbg

This one is cool. I'd totally have it framed and titled "Oops.." http://th03.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/f/2014/144/7/2/joseph__the_ancient__forest_dragon_by_mikeazevedo-d7jlys8.png

This is one of my greatest favorite ever, very realistic, love the work on muscles and the goddam colourwork. Brilliant. Very realistic.

April 13, 2015, 04:53:47 AM
Re: [Apr 2015] - Plot Twist! Werewolf, Vampire, Goat - Submission Thread Okay, here is my tortured piece...
Let it be said that I still consider this an easy PG13, but we french put "The Wolf of Wall st" as PG13 in theatres, so you might better not take my word for it!  8)
It contains references of course to the original april fool subject, as you'll see.

Explicit gore and violence, sexual connotations.  :-X

It comes at 1181 words but is likely to change before the end of the month.

The Wolf.

Spoiler for Hiden:
The smell is pungent. Rank.
The darkest side of organic, decay brought on by violence.
It clings to a wandering anomaly. Death in a drab fur coat, matted with lives long spilled. The wolf hunts with a will unknown to its kind. Possessed, he haunts the forest that birthed him. His fetor spills around him in the night, catching in the boughs and rattling the senses, an olfactory bell ringing a warning. A challenge to those who think of running. The wolf of these woods is a playful creature. Like no animal ever should, he has learned at the table of Man the meaning of pleasure.

The little girl knows not to trust. She has paid the wolf in loss and tears. It is the lot of those who linger at the edge of the forest. A cruel price, but a wise choice. Life is rich here.
Until the wolf feasts.
The trees care nothing for the perversity of the prowling beast and its murder of men. They grow and thrive and deceive, lure the wandering stranger into them.

The little girl realises the danger. She has lost her uncle, her friend, her mother.
Her uncle fought, he was a challenge. Her mother the wolf must have liked, she was never found. But her friend they did recover. Mangled, naked. Clad only in russet ribbons of old blood and peeled skin. Teeth marks like so many bracelets of somber beads, bestowed by too ardent a lover.
She’d been a toy to him.

The little girl has a knife. Her father took her hunting and taught her to kill.
Never look in his eye. Pity is for the weak. Hesitation makes you dead meat.

"Grandmother, do you think I will meet him? I am afraid, but still I long to gut this murderer. To pare his pelt with my own hands and lay in his fur."
But no child could ever kill the wolf. And no child should sleep in his accursed skin. It is whispered that this is how the wolf endures, cloaking their hatred and lust for suffering.
Her grandmother begs her to be at peace. She doesn't want her to be reckless, she doesn't want to live to see the last of her line extinguished. But they know that each time she visits, the little girl gambles her life.

That week she killed a goat. She cures its flesh and fills her basket. She will bring her grandmother food, news and filial love. She has her knife, her hood and her courage. With luck, she will survive once again the forest where death each night lurks.

The wolf knows her. He has smelled her, time and again. He knows them all, his enemies, his playthings, his prey. The men he feeds on, who flee and leave hanging the heady scent of terror, the delight of his nights.

She runs, light and silent, a little red mouse through the mist. She thinks of things to say, news to spread and tasks to be done. She feels her pulse quickening; she relishes the future. She is young – her hatred never leaves her, but she can’t fathom the destiny that is calling her.

The smell swells abruptly around her. It burns her nose, scorches her tongue. It comes from every direction, as if she had waded into a shoreless sea of rot. Her basket lies discarded, her blade, dull in the grey light, trembles in her hand.
He comes forth, velvet paws silent as the fog itself. She sees him, sees his size and wonders.
What had she expected as she dreamt of her knife slicing tendons and those muscles so bent on destruction?
The monster in front of her is no wolf, no child of nature, no animal lost to its pack.

He returns her stare, his eyes level with hers, his haunches quivering with impatience. He recognises the anguish distorting her features. He drinks it in each time, be it in hare or man, this disbelief at his size, his form, his potential.
He circles her, with each step he grows nearer, with each stride the sickening click of his malformed joints grows clearer. He smells through his own stench the sweet perfume of her panic. She stands her ground frozen by terror, and waits.

The force of the impact knocks the wind and the sense out of her. They crash onto the ground, her knife grates his ribs, fails to sink in.
He looms over her. Another blow shatters her scrambling mind. She's on her belly, her blade lost, clothes torn, bleeding. Blood is everywhere. Her blood.

This can't be happening.
But it is.
Pain consumes her senses. The wolf moves slowly; tearing the skin from her neck, sliding into her. He gouges her arms, crushes her, presses her face in the clammy humus. His chest rumbles against her in a sick imitation of laughter.
She feels him everywhere, in all the searing shame and mindless despair of one who thought to conquer and is crushed instead.
She looks into his eyes and sees her death, avid and expectant, laced with lust and glee. Saliva tendrils snap and trail across her virgin flesh. His fangs tease her bleeding throat. He is resisting the natural temptation of an easy kill. Trapped within his jaws she can barely breathe.
Her father's voice is in her ear, murmuring to her as if in a dream.
Don't be a daughter to your mother.
Rather be a good niece to your uncle. Fight.

Fingers meet metal. She whimpers, and tries to pry her hips free of the frantic animal. Succumbing to her ruse, he adjusts his grip. Her freed arm flies upward, fueled by desperation.
Metal meets flesh. He shrieks and pulls off. She sits up and scrambles away, pressing her stained weapon to her breast. The sight of him is ghastly : coiling in the leaves in throes of agony, the wolf moans and yelps as his own blood mixes with hers on the decaying leaves of the rotting forest floor. It oozes, ruby red and thick, from an eye burst to a pulp.

His disappearance is as sudden as his arrival had been, and it leaves her hollowed, defiled, numb.
It has happened. He has come and he is gone. Despite her state, she can count herself lucky. No one has fought the wolf and lived to tell the story. This realisation is what makes her stand then makes her run. She needs to get home. She flees, careless of the noise, pushing the pain, crushing her shame. She needs to reach home.

Finally it is in sight, the safe abode where light pours out in the foggy night. Tears run down her face as she rushes to the door and crashes in her house, sobbing, ready to be comforted and healed.
Yes, her father is here, and turns to her as she enters. He too, is disheveled, his chest bared. Again that night they stare at each other. She gapes at his one eyed, bleeding face.
Blood oozing from an eye burst to a pulp.

If anyone is curious, the two tracks I morbidly listened to as I was writing this were from Converter. It's Industrial techno, so not for everyone. Down There is the true "soundtrack" of the piece I believe :
But I wrote a lot while listening to Gateway Rite, same band : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dErAkgHTXrY

Proper spoiler, here is a little picture of one of the many story related doodles I made while struggling with this short. Don't open it till you're done reading. Can't resist sharing it with y'all ^^
Spoiler for Hiden:

April 14, 2015, 03:27:15 PM
Re: [Apr 2015] - Plot Twist! Werewolf, Vampire, Goat - Discussion Thread Whoaaaa!! Can't believe I just posted my story. It's half past midnight and I've been working on wrapping it up for a few hours. It's been wrecking my brain ever since I decided to write it and I'm so utterly relieved that it's done... Unlike my rogue story that came out of my head in a day, this has been taking me days and countless rewriting.
I'm too inexperienced a writer to know really if such contrast is common. I guess it's often different as you force yourself into topics you'd never have chosen without the contest?
I haven't picked up any new book or seen any movie beyond the GoT first two episodes, I was so engrossed. Urk, I'm glad it's out. I'll probably edit the hell out of my ending by tomorrow breakfast time.  :P

I'm feeling pleased with my so called "watering down". It was an exercise in itself to try and avoid too explicit connotations.

I'm now free to go and read y'all!!! Yay!

April 14, 2015, 03:33:49 PM