With dictators controling five of the seven continents and a monarch in one, there isn't much left to be happy about. But no matter where you go, the phrase "the good old days" seems to pop up. Life just isn't quite what it use to be. But what if it could be?
What if you could be a real damsel in distress, waiting on her knight to slay the dragon? What if you could be a gentleman, dutifully serving Queen Victoria while courting the array of ladies? What if you could be a sweet Southern Belle, protecting the only life she knows while her world falls apart? What if you could be a rough and ready sheriff, defending his town from the outlaws that so often threaten your friends? What if you could be a hip cat or kitten, jitterbugging through life and trying not to think of the war just around the corner?
What if you could do it all?
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11.30.09 UPDATE! :D Okay, so we lost an admin but we gained another one! Unfortunately, we lost Trick not only as an admin but as an RPer as well, dbgirl following. Scotchy has taken over the Medieval era so any questions about that time go to her now. Welcome back to the team, Scotch! Also, the 'Of The Months' are up on time/early; Thank you, Stockmon.
10.19.09Yup, that's right. An update. Everyone should check out TS's new pet! We've officially adopted Rover the Australian Shepherd. Go play with him here, in the chat board. He's adorable.
10.4.09New 'Of The Month's have been chosen everyone. Go check it out. Thanks to all our members who have joined and really made this site great. :) You are very appriciated.
9.14.09Activity check is over. If your account was deleted, it was because you made no effort to contact an admin or reply to the activity check. Welcome to our newest members Conz and Darkie.
9.9.09We have liftoff! Thanks to the amazingly-hardworking Stockmon, we now have a Future era for all you eager RPers! Check out the greatly optimistic *coughcough* future world!
Note: There are only 5 more days to post in the Activity Check.
9.1.09ACTIVITY CHECK HAS BEGUN! Click here to preserve your account. Also, new 'Of the Month's' have been chosen. Congrats to Pix, Scotchy, and Trick!
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MEDIEVAL1066 · Jun 28 -- Annual jousting tournament begins.
· Jul 7 -- The Knights' Ball is to follow the tournament. Formal attire.
· Jul 28 -- Archery contest begins.
VICTORIAN1841 · Apr 20 -- The first detective story (Poe's "Murders in the Rue Morgue") was published.
· May 3 -- New Zealand becomes a British colony.
CIVIL WAR1861 · Jun 8 -- Tennessee succeeds from the Union, the last state to do so.
· Jul 21 -- The First Battle of Bull Run takes place, a Confederate Victory. Confederate general Thomas Jackson earns his nickname 'Stonewall' at this battle.
OLD WEST1883 · Jul 4 -- Buffalo Bill Cody presents the 1st Wild West Show in North Platte, Nebraska.
· Sept 8 -- Gold spike symbolizes the completion of the Northern Pacific Railroad in Independence Creek, Montana.
RAT-PACK1941 · Aug 6 -- American and British governments warn Japan not to invade Siam (Thailand).
· Sept 11 -- U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt declares a shoot-on-sight order against all German and Italian shipping.
· Dec 7 -- The United States enter World War II after the attack on Pearl Harbor.
FUTURE2159 · Jun 20 -- Damien Fox turns 52
· Aug 27 -- Debeo Island four year anniversary
· Sept 11 – Annual Continental Conference on Campana Island
She would never nominate herself, which is why I took the chance to do so for her. This girl had the idea to make this site, and put in an enormous amount of hours to make it as beautiful and functional as it is now. She isn’t the biggest poster, but she is always around and constantly dedicated. We owe a lot to her.
Alexis lost her father, was betrayed by her mother, and cruelly interrogated for information she did not have. After being taken in by the head of the Underground, she was handed off to the head of the NYC base. Even with all the help from higher ups, adjusting will be hard. Isn’t being a teenager hard enough?
Lane, the nervous New Yorker comes face to face with the head of the New York Underground. Beta has a proposition for Lane. How will he react? Having never been asked for so much before, can Lane deal with the expectations and pressure from the illegal organization he signed himself up for?
»Pixie« 00:00 MEMBER OF THE MONTH! member is offline
Thought love was only true in Fairy Tales[D3v:PixieStixNRockCandy]
Joined: Aug 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 40 Location: Jupiter, in the eye ;3 Karma: 6
creative writing « Thread Started on Aug 26, 2009, 4:14pm »
Hey guys, in class and instead of e-mailing the work to myself I wanna post it so I can copy n paste it later when I need it ¢¾
Was it just her or was time sucking her soul away? She could feel the pull of the third hand of the clock on the far wall. Each minute tick seeming to dig into her head and strip away a single grain of her sanity. This was taking forever. She was at the doctors office, the stiff padded seat beneath her doing it¡¯s job with begrudging effort. The feeling was mutual. Her father sat beside her, aged hazel eyes staring at the abstract flail of color they decorated the walls with. What was it even supposed to be? Her head tipped right in an attempt to conjure the image to life. Was it a bear? No, bears weren¡¯t yellow like that. It kind of reminded her of the time she was little and had asked her mother why the butterflies were fighting. The offensive splashes of paint kept her interest for just the fleeting moment before she ducked her head to stare at her shoes.
Again time seemed to age her. Were her bones cracking? Maybe it was the clock again; it¡¯s insistent slap to her ears fading into a rhythm like music in the background. Her shoes stared back at her, as if wondering what sort of entertainment she expected from them. She could almost hear them saying, ¡°What? You should have brought your iPod retard. Don¡¯t expect us to do flips.¡± Why hadn¡¯t she brought something to do? Would she die here? Would she wither away, crumple into an old maid before they came for her? The door opened and she jumped, some of the others in the waiting room eyeing her. They called her name with a sadistically sweet smile and she cringed. Oh joy, shots.
I might be posting more stuff from class here hope you guys dont mind :3
»Pixie« 00:00 MEMBER OF THE MONTH! member is offline
Thought love was only true in Fairy Tales[D3v:PixieStixNRockCandy]
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Re: creative writing « Reply #1 on Aug 31, 2009, 3:22pm »
They’re always there. Every day it makes the world sharp and clear and every night when they disappear everything goes a fuzzy shade that I cannot see. Without them I would embarrass myself more times than I could count, but with them I feel at ease. I almost forget they are there. They have become such a part of me that I never notice them. They swirl and shimmer in the sun, purples jumping to play with blues as they circle glass. I often find myself fixing them without thinking, touching them, lifting them up or just cleaning them off when it strikes me. Sometimes they are smeared from people hugging me and it turns my world a waxy texture that I can’t stand.
I’ve had them since middle school. The first pair was golden, sitting awkward and strange. They were new to me. They broke. The second pair was a bit cooler, black and oddly shaped. They eventually slipped into blurs again. I couldn’t use them. This pair now is the one I love. I got them from Kaiser, expensive but the prettiest ones I could have ever hoped for. They were so expensive I didn’t want to touch them, but dad told me if insurance covered enough I could have them. The world was bright and clear again, almost making me sick at the lines that jumped at me. They helped make faces appear sharp and cut from color. They are with me in the morning and disappear at night.
I want to know why my cat is so random. I want to know why my neighbor always seems to sound angry even when she isn't. I want to know why I feel so sympathetic for Pluto not being a planet. I want to know why my second grade teacher told me Whales never lived on land. I want to know why sparrows hop so fast. I want to know why lizards do push ups. I want to know why people on the bus don't smile. I want to know where the people in the car next to me are going. I want to know why people put the toilet paper roll facing the wrong way I want to know why whenever I lose one shoes it's always under the bed.
Whenever I lose one shoe it's always under the bed. It's happened so many times to me I have to wonder if it isn't like Gravity. A law of nature. I'm running late for something. I run around the house brushing my teeth, spraying on some fruity scent, and trying to round up everything I need for the day: Headband, Chapstick, shoes... Shoes. Where are they? I'll remember taking them off in the living room. I go to the living room in search for my missing things. I could find Bigfoot easier than retrieving my shoes. They are nowhere in the living room. I'm retracing my steps in my head. Literally. The image of me picking up my shoes as I go to my room hits me. Off I go again.
I open my door and sure enough one shoe is sitting somewhere obvious in the middle of my room. Somewhere right in plain sight, as if to distract me from it's running companion. Of course I scan the room over about four times in search of my lost shoe. I can't go to school in one tennis shoe and one heel. The world doesn't work that way. I throw clothes around in the vain hope that I will uncover the black faded right shoe. It's usually the right shoe. Why does the right shoe always try to evade me? What is so wrong with being on my right foot?
I can distinctly remember putting both of my shoes down on the floor or dropping them off in my room, but as soon as I glance towards my bed I know I'll find it there. For some reason it's never the first place I look. I always look under my bed last. Like I expect it to be anywhere but there. And then when I fall to my knees in frustration and look into the dark; sure enough there sits shoe two, and my day is saved but for the simmer of annoyance that once again my shoe is snuggled about three feet under my bed where I have to strain to reach.
Story that I'll be working on for class :3 Read and comment if you can, I'd like input. It's not done obviously, the teacher said it needed a beginning, a middle, and an end and so far this is the beginning. Not all of the beginning, just some of it. Like half of the beginning... I'm hoping when it's done it'll be less than 15 pages >_<` she says more than 5, less than 15.... it'll be less than fifteen right? D: RIGHT?? >_<`
She was so happy. The happiest she had ever been in her life. She loved every moment with him. It was perfect. She went to school and they hung out in the morning. She got out of school and he was there waiting for her to walk her home. The joyful days seemed to stretch on for an eternity. There was drama, people who hated her one day for something, and then hated someone else the next. It was a taste of TV. A sip of a soap opera that was filled with such happiness and love that the brief flashes of chaos meant nothing.
When his sister hated her, she was happy because she had him. When her teacher sent her to the office for confiscating a note she was happy because she had him. She'd never had anyone, but now she was in love. She could see him every day and his smile lit up her heart. It made her feel giddy and light. It made her feel different from before. Before when she thought she was dull and unremarkable. Now she was beautiful, and it was all because he was there and they loved each other.
She still remembered the good days, the memories that still made her heart squeeze in her chest. Those wonderful moments of sitting together watching a movie, or when they would just sit together and talk. All those conversations they'd had on the phone that she could never remember. All the kisses and hugs and times where she'd rested her head on his chest and listened to the soft sudden swell of his heart as it bumped against his ribs. Each memory was dear to her and yet would cause her so much pain.
When they met she remembered how distant he was. How out of it he seemed. She'd been alone and desperate for company. It was Jennifer's choir concert, and Jenny's boyfriend was running late. It wasn't like she had a cell phone to call him. She was one of the only kids without a way to communicate. She couldn't call to ask where he was, and as the sun set she was left in the dark in a nearly deserted school with her overactive imagination. Each dark shadow would transform into something sinister. Someone would arrive for the concert and instead of seeing a friendly parent she would suspect the worst. A creep who came to the school at night to prey on kids like her perhaps.
Which was completely ridiculous. She knew she was being silly and paranoid and needed to ignore it, but telling yourself to pay no attention to the person sitting at a dark table doesn't erase the shivers and chills from you. It doesn't stop the goosebumps from running up your skin and raising the hair on your body. She was afraid, that tiny well of fear growing as the sun disappeared and the school was left in darkness.
Looking back she could see how lonely she was. How longing for someone else she had been. How sad her heart had been inside. No confidence. She never spoke out in class, never talked to anyone around her except friends who had talked to her first, never told boys she liked them. Looking back was like comparing a rabbit to a fox. Except she'd always been too afraid or nervous to jump.
How had they met then? How had they come to meet if she never spoke to people? Well, she jumped. No, not literally. Desperation can make people do extraordinary things, and with the suspicion that the person in the hoodie across campus was staring at her she had been thankful to see a familiar face. She'd seen him around school, they hung out with the same people, he was in her PE class. He was walking with a friend in the opposite direction she was walking. The thing she remembered the most was the expression on his face.
He had looked so deep in thought, so lost in something in his mind that he hadn't even seen her. They'd walked right by her and ignored her wave. Yes, a wave. It hadn't been the most brilliant way to introduce herself or to get anyone's attention. It wasn't so much a wave as she lifted her hand and looked at them walk by. Her heart had pounded so loudly at the small effort. She'd been so nervous, but her fright outweighed the idea that they would give her those funny looks and keep walking. She spoke, turning to look at them as her desperation forced her to reach out to them.
"Fine, don't say Hi..."
She'd meant it to be a joke, her voice carrying loudly to the two boys as they finally stopped, pulled from their thoughts by the burst of sound that her mouth had let loose. She gulped, watching them as they turned to look at her. She was sure she had smiled, thrilled that she had actually initiated something. That she had actually spoken up. She had so many memories of wanting to say something so desperately and watching as the person walked away. Each time she remembered someone walking by and her failure to speak she felt a little slap of shame. Why was she so shy? But this time she'd actually done it. She'd spoken up, and as they looked her over, trying to remember where they'd seen her from she stepped closer.
She'd done it. She had attached herself to them like a leech, her gruesome thoughts being put to rest. She didn't notice at the time, but there was a distinct feeling coming from one of the boys that something was bothering him. She'd been so excited at her own boldness that she wouldn't remember till later that the short one was so detached, uncaring that she had joined them. A memory touched her mind that she had short hair. When they met her hair had been in a boyish cut, dyed a purple brown that had read some fancy name on the sample. She didn't remember what clothes she had on, probably her usual wear. Baggy pants, T-shirt, Sweater. A beanie had been on her head.
Her beanie had been green, a knitted thing she'd gotten from her aunt. She loved that beanie. It had gotten lost over the years, but she remembered wearing it on that day. She remembered how she was the only one who could wear it out of all her friends. Anyone else who tried it on looked like a cancer patient, but her? It worked on her. Everyone said so, but maybe those had all been lies. It's easy to lie, but she didn't like thinking about that. She liked thinking it made her look like one of those fancy art students in the movies. one of those pretty people you saw on TV. She loved that beanie.
The sun was pleasant and warm, but the breeze that ruffled her hair was playfully chilly, nipping at her bare skin. She was walking through a park, she was sure. A few kids laughed as they played and ran, chasing the wind that lifted her silky hair. Mothers and fathers shouted it was time to start getting ready to go. It seemed like a nice enough day. Leaves crunched under her feet and the soft smell of water and grass reminded her of sprinklers. She could taste water on the air. Was a storm coming? Did it really matter? The world was in a constant state of chaos, from the children playing to the weather rumbling in on seas of cold. A constant thrill. The leaves overhead brushed together and whispered to her, their soft voices giggling about how winter was coming, soon the leaves would all be scattered against the ground, crunching for every person to tread on them. A dog sneezed in front of her and she reached down to ruffle satin fur. The day felt friendly, birds singing softly in the background to children running, leaves crunching, and somewhere far off, a car horn blaring.
»Pixie« 00:00 MEMBER OF THE MONTH! member is offline
Thought love was only true in Fairy Tales[D3v:PixieStixNRockCandy]
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Re: creative writing « Reply #6 on Oct 7, 2009, 3:42pm »
It was kind of strange having brains on your brain. They haunted her dreams, each lovely squishy curve of cortex beckoning her. She was sure in her dreams she could smell them. Each new mind smelled of different things. Some smelled like freshly baked cookies, others like a finely seasoned steak. Brains, utterly delicious. The simple thought of touching her tongue to each wrinkled dip and tiny hill sent shivers through her. The idea of biting into one and actually partaking in the juices that would drip down her chin and slip tantalizingly down her throat made her burn with ecstasy. Thinking of cracking open a skull like a walnut, slashing through the skin and nerves and hair to reach the wonderful juicy chewy delight inside set her on edge.
A single moment in biology class years ago returned to her. She saw the day the teacher had brought in a brain to show the class. The delicate flowery pink flesh of the mind sat in a queer green elixir, but she thought even now as she imagined it that she could smell the faint tang of strawberries through the cold burning smell of chemical. Each gentle fold of a brain intrigued her. It made her want to dive in, pull it apart, rip and tear it until she could lick the warm sweet insides and relish the feel of it along her tongue as it was crushed in a tender embrace by her teeth and sent on it’s way.
»Pixie« 00:00 MEMBER OF THE MONTH! member is offline
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Re: creative writing « Reply #7 on Oct 12, 2009, 4:07pm »
His name is Alex. He’s 23 years old, lives in an apartment with two of his friends, and smokes pot. He doesn’t like listening to any advice people give him. Some people might say he’s an butthole and they’d probably be right. He’s never liked thinking people pity him. He’s not exactly shy, but he can never seem to find the words to describe how he’s feeling at the moment so people think he’s some kind of butt. He works at a normal enough job as a cashier. He hates it, but secretly likes the people he has to deal with. He likes seeing new faces and wondering what they’re like, thinking about what their lives are like instead of him own. He likes to think. Just think. Not really do anything, just think of things.
About every night he lights up with his roommates. They gather around a bong or pass a pipe and take a few hits to relax. He’s lost a few friends because of smoking weed, but they were lame anyway. Worriers. His favorite movie is Alice in Wonderland. He likes to think about how she fell down the rabbit hole and why anyone would go into a tunnel that small anyway. They’d get claustrophobia. His life isn’t the most interesting, and he still doesn’t know what career he wants to get into. He plays some guitar, just a few chords and riffs. He can play ‘smoke on the water’ which almost any kid with a guitar learns to play first.
Alex has no girlfriend, but he does have a few female friends he sleeps with. His eyes are green, his hair is brown, and his life is going nowhere.
--------------
Alex was sitting on a stool leaning back and thinking idly to himself. He wanted his shift to end so he could go home. The last woman who had come in had a screaming kid. He was so tired of today.
He had to duck slightly to avoid hitting the Budweiser banner that hung from the fluorescent lights covered in a gnat and fly orgy death.
The most massive man he’d ever seen walked into the convenience store. Jesus Christ, how did a person get so fuckin big? He lowered his magazine, watching the man wander around the store. What was he? Like 6’6? 6’8? He was frikkin ginormous. He stood up, going to his post at the register to watch the man, wondering to himself what kind of life a person so big had. He could be a biker. He looked pretty bad ass, or maybe it was because he was so huge. “Hmmm”… he wondered aloud, “ was it Wild Turkey or Courvoisier that Father wanted?... or was it Hot Cheetos and pork rinds… Great Chuchamesh, help me!!!”
The guy seemed to be looking over whatever he wanted to buy. Should he say something? Should he help? It was a convenience store. Really he didn’t have to say anything. It wasn’t like a regular store where you could just go up and ask “Can I help you sir?” what did you say to someone so big? He wondered if the man was hot-tempered. “Do you need any help?”
»Pixie« 00:00 MEMBER OF THE MONTH! member is offline
Thought love was only true in Fairy Tales[D3v:PixieStixNRockCandy]
Joined: Aug 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 40 Location: Jupiter, in the eye ;3 Karma: 6
Re: creative writing « Reply #8 on Oct 14, 2009, 4:06pm »
Drool was pooling on the ground next to the furry mass of brown and black. A pink tongue lolled from limp jaws and touched against the liquid from it’s mouth. The dog’s tail rested against the ground as well, a few subtle twitches the only movement besides the labored breathing and ragged pants. Noise came to his tuft ears.
“It’s okay boy. It’s alright, you’re gonna be okay. Mama’s gonna give you a bath now okay? It’s alright, be good now. Yeeeeah, that’s it, it’s okay. I know, I know baby, I’m sorry. Just stay calm. Relax. Good doggy. Yes he’s a good boy. Yes you are, yes you are. Awww, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for you to get sick. Mama is sorry Pumpkin.”
Hands scrubbed at dark fur, bubbles and suds forming with the aid of water. Fingers scratched him, washed his coat.
Drool was pooling on the ground next to the furry mass of brown and black. What was happening? His mind was confused, a hard boil rolling through his stomach. A pink tongue lolled from limp jaws and touched against the liquid from it’s mouth. The dog’s tail rested against the ground as well, a few subtle twitches the only movement besides the labored breathing and ragged pants. He loved wagging his tail. He loved feeling it cut through the air like a knife. Like he could defy the wind with it, create his own breeze. It was a very wonderful feeling. A sound came to his crooked ears.
“It’s okay boy. It’s alright, you’re gonna be okay. Mama’s gonna give you a bath now okay? It’s alright, be good now. Yeeeeah, that’s it, it’s okay. I know, I know baby, I’m sorry. Just stay calm. Relax. Good doggy. Yes he’s a good boy. Yes you are, yes you are. Awww, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for you to get sick. Mama is sorry Pumpkin.”
Hands scrubbed at dark fur, bubbles and suds forming with the aid of water. Fingers scratched him, washed his coat. His mama, the one who fed him, the one who scratched his head when he put his face in her lap. He liked the feel of her nails running through his fur. He always had soft fur. She always stopped his itches, and he was appreciative. He enjoyed the scrape of her fingers as she poured water over him and held him up, his stomach colliding against itself. That bad taste stinging his mouth would not leave.
How had this happened to him? He was a good dog. He didn’t understand how he’d gotten so weak, whatever had made him like this, so sick. But he would be alright, his mama would help him. She’d make the bad taste go away. He remembered way back when he was a puppy how he’d left her once. She’d taken him in the car and he’d been taken away and put in a cage, and so many bad things had happened for what seemed years. He’d been sore for a long time after and had to wear this thing around his head. When she’d cared for him after he came back he knew she’d always be there. They were a team. She’d make it all better.
He whined, the sound a high whimper as his stomach sloshed, drool dripping down his maw. His muzzle was wet with saliva, and he didn’t much enjoy the sensation.
»Pixie« 00:00 MEMBER OF THE MONTH! member is offline
Thought love was only true in Fairy Tales[D3v:PixieStixNRockCandy]
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Re: creative writing « Reply #9 on Nov 2, 2009, 4:34pm »
What does this character want?
To rule the world with his hordes of zombies.
What are his motives for wanting this?
Because when he turned into a zombie he didn’t lose his intelligence, so he feels he has a higher calling and purpose in life and thinks that he was meant to rule the legions of undead.
How do we learn what this character wants? Actions, Dialogue, Interior Thinking?
Interior Thinking. The whole story will be written as if it were a diary, so everything will be interior thinking or dialogue like. It might describe actions, but it’s all just Interior thinking of what has happened or what they think.
Who/what stands in the way of him achieving this?
Parker. She thinks humans should have rights too and not have to live in fear of Zombies. She wants to stop Jeff.
What does the desire set into motion?
I’m not sure yet. Zombie battle maybe? The group of characters will be forced to split in two or three to fight for or against Jeff.
Jeff is the sort of person who: couldn’t figure out how to get out of a paper bag if he was trapped inside, but he’d pretend he wanted to be there the whole time.
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