|
Post by Battlechantress on Feb 9, 2011 0:20:46 GMT 1
Another long day at work with no lunch (or any sort of break), and overtime I am sure that the boss does not want to pay me. I'm not feeling at all creative, unless trying to figure out how to stretch out on the couch with two dogs counts as such.
8 February 2011
It will be a few hours until the next snowstorm arrives. I would write something sarcastic like "I can't wait," except that would be a lie. I don't want to spend the rest of the week shoveling my driveway, waiting for the county to get around to plowing my road. Frankly, I just want winter to be over with.
And then the puppy distracted me by trying to chew apart my headset and subwoofer. She had another first today: she got a collar and name tag to wear. She fought me about wearing it, but she's kept it on.
|
|
|
Post by Mr. Glow on Feb 9, 2011 1:20:36 GMT 1
8th February, 2011
We wait as men stream out from hiding places. It's hard to keep track of them all, but there are at least half a dozen, all armed.
"Don't be afraid." William whispers.
"I'm not." I tell him.
"Oh? Well that makes one of us!" William replies, mentally preparing for the attack.
"Vita incerta, mors certissima" I say, it seeming a bit appropriate.
"Maybe. Death is certain, but I'd still rather die of old age!" William says. He has a point.
The first man works up the nerve to attack. William parries his swing and sends him back with a kick.
|
|
|
Post by lieden on Feb 9, 2011 14:24:07 GMT 1
Buch: I had dreams where I died and had a reloading screen appear. Surreal and unsettling. Funnily enough, that 100words came from a note for ME fanwork, where Shepard recounts what death was like. Also, totally digging the human-computer banter! Chantress: the weather has gone crazy. We had a bit of a cold spell here in Athens... and now it's like spring time again. It's been like that all winter. There are even poppies in bloom around! Glow: This is almost coming along too slow! Damn the 100 words limit. -- I had a strange dream last night which burst into a complex, dystopian setting this morning on my way to work. I think I may be writing more on this. This bit is unrelated to the dream (which was an earthquake scene that would come later in this story arc). 9 February 2011'Can you read?' 'Yeah,' he said, 'but not well.' 'I learned a letter from the murals.' Eish scribbled down an open triangle, slashed and circled it. 'I think it's "aa". Are not letters each a sound?' 'They are. But that's not a letter, it's a symbol for Anarchy. Lawlessness.' 'Why do you make it sound bad? Lawlessness! If there were no laws, I would not be taken next week to the army brothels.' He didn't know what to say. 'I could still get you with child,' he said after some thought. 'And it would show when? There's not enough time.'
|
|
|
Post by Mister Buch on Feb 9, 2011 21:31:24 GMT 1
I can empathise a bit with that dream, lieden. Sounds unpleasant though.
10th February 2011
Forks Municipal Reservoir, like the rest of the town, was polluted all to hell. Most of the kids, in their juvenile way, called it 'the black lagoon'. This was my fourth trip there.
I stared helplessly through the lifeboat's glass porthole watching James, that strange and beautiful creature, swimming. His perfect emerald and gold fins seemed to merge playfully with the waves, like fresh watercolours spilling together. I bit my lip as a cold hand touched my shoulder.
“Edward!”
I spun into his perfect, strong embrace. How could I tell him?
-from 'Flood Warning' by Stephenie Meyer, coming March 2011.
|
|
|
Post by Battlechantress on Feb 10, 2011 4:10:49 GMT 1
Boring nonfic entry for the day, since I'm exhausted to the point of pain.
|
|
|
Post by Mr. Glow on Feb 10, 2011 23:01:59 GMT 1
9th February, 2011
I go on the offense, striking at the man nearest me. I'm quick, but he's a good swordsman. He parries and thrusts. Remembering my footwork lessons almost reflexively, I feint to the right, dodging his blade by inches.
I slash at him hard, holding my sword with both hands, catching him across the ribs. He cries out, wounded, but not dropping his sword. I swing at him again. His guard's much weaker this time. I knock the sword from his hand and follow that with a strike across the neck.
I take my first human life at seventeen years old.
10th February, 2011
William's still doing well, holding his own against two men and almost making it look easy.
I stab another man in the back as he looked to take William by suprise.
Their confidence wanes as their numbers do. William kicks a man to the floor, stabbing him through not long after. I deal with William's other opponent as he regains his stance and goes after the remaining two men.
"This is more like it! A fair fight!" He gasps breathlessly. He gores his opponent not long afterwards.
All his allies slain, the last man turns tail and begins to flee.
|
|
|
Post by Mister Buch on Feb 11, 2011 0:43:07 GMT 1
Guess who's back (back again)
11th February 2011
Hi team!
Today we're ecstatic, honestly: a solid opportunity now promises longevity, fantastic growth for the North West regional salesforce this year... quarterly.
And so we're delighted and proud, united in spite of the rumours and loud allegations that our corporation (since... privatisation and certain renowned litigation) may maybe be near... liquidation...
to present to you a poem.
A fantastic new poem by a real team player, an inelastic profferer of unsarcastic prayer, a noble General Manager who naysayed every naysayer monastic and bombastic in our darkest fiscal year to date, that is to say... this year.
Read the poem to the lads you lay off, yeah?
|
|
|
Post by Mr. Glow on Feb 11, 2011 1:07:49 GMT 1
How on Earth do you manage to cram so much into your entries?! ;D
That was great.
|
|
|
Post by Mister Buch on Feb 11, 2011 11:32:11 GMT 1
Aw, thanks guys! Glow - because I don't let myself properly explore or describe anything! It's like telling a joke, writing a 100 words, isn't it? Got to get it all in and time it. And I love the way you handled those action scenes there.
|
|
|
Post by Battlechantress on Feb 11, 2011 17:04:04 GMT 1
11 February 2011
I always thought that there were a curious kind of beings hanging out behind the clothes dryers. They were called the Tribe of Lost Socks, and they would take "sacrifices" from your laundry every so often. Nobody ever discerned what their ultimate motive was, beyond baffling a hapless human who somehow came up one sock short once every few loads of laundry. Now I realize that if they do indeed exist, then they also have animal helpers on this side of existence. They take the form of puppies who raid laundry hampers. It could be worse. They could take underwear.
|
|
|
Post by Mister Buch on Feb 12, 2011 1:08:36 GMT 1
February 12th, 2011
'Love,' Joe told his little one before he tucked her in, 'is pretty much just a made-up thing to help adults feel better about having sex. You know how when you see a couple in bed, naked, their faces all close together and certain parts of their bodies are takin' over and secreting stuff?'
She cocked an eyebrow to be cool.
'Well, that's embarrassing. So we make-believe there's something cosmic or holy, and maybe that's why we're doing it.'
'You're doing it to reproduce,' she said, yawning.
'Good girl. And... look. Your mom was different.
'Yes, I agree.'
|
|
|
Post by Battlechantress on Feb 12, 2011 19:13:42 GMT 1
This idea popped into my head last night. I doubt it will be a long series though, since it's mostly tied into some artwork I made for a story idea that went nowhere.
13 February 2011
There were four of them in the airlock with us: three men in black suits and a fancy- dressed woman with ear chandeliers. They had better guns, but i wasn't worried. They claimed that I had stolen it from their boss (whose name I never could spell correctly, let alone pronounce). I had given up ships before just to save my own skin, but I wasn't letting them take this one. The other ships were just small hunks of space debris that I grabbed to keep the navy from getting me. The Massaden, however, was a true war machine.
|
|
|
Post by Mr. Glow on Feb 13, 2011 0:58:59 GMT 1
Thundering across the finish line with only a minute to spare!
11th February, 2011
The fleeing man gets further away as I dither. I see him leaping onto a horse, he's crouched low against the beast, trying to make his body as slight a target as possible.
My hand slides down to my belt, and the weighted knives it contains. I draw one, holding it high. I adopt the correct stance, quiet my breath.
I just have to think of him as one of the targets I practiced on back in London. I let the knife fly with all my strength.
The blade sails through the air, planting itself straight in the man's chest.
12th February, 2011
My enemy slumps off his saddle, landing in the dirt.
Walter pats me on the back.
"That was a hell of a throw." Walter comments "But we have to get out of here. Now." He makes for our horses and I fall into step behind him.
"What about the weapons? And the thieves in the barn? Why were those men attacking us?" I ask, so many questions.
"Look lass, experience has taught me when things like this happen, it's best to cut your losses and run." He clambers onto his horse.
"Now we should go. London beckons."
"Walter'll be disappointed."
|
|
|
Post by Mister Buch on Feb 13, 2011 1:31:58 GMT 1
Just in time, Glow Actually they seem to be pretty lax with the time limits. It's still possible to join the January batch. 13th February 2011- Heheheh... that's a good one. - I'm serious. Haha! - Yeah, that's a good idea! We haven't talked about our relationship enough today! - Hahaha. I know, right? Okay, well, we have to do it. So there. - Hahaha. All right, hit me. - Heheheh. So have you noticed how we don't argue, we- - Yeah it's pretty amazing, eh? First couple who never argued! - Yeah! But we just laugh all the time instead. - We have a laugh. - Yes we do. ... - Heheh. Ahhhhhh. Yeah. We're, uh, breaking-up here, aren't we? - Haha! Are we?! - Don't make ME do it! Hahahahaha. - Yeah we... hm. - Please don't! - Haha.
|
|
|
Post by lieden on Feb 13, 2011 6:40:20 GMT 1
Catching up... damn flu. That fever almost broke me. 10th February 2011'Nieth, take a look at this.' In the sealed environment of the bunker there was neither dust nor mold. The books and notes on the desk were intact but for what wear and tear they had seen in their time. 'Books! Just how old IS this place? Marken Dev lifted a book tentatively. It was large and thin, dog-eared and curled open. He flipped through the pages. 'Ship diagrams, full specs included, listed by class. 'Issued in 2106. But - printed books, in the 22nd century? Why?' 'There's more. Look: there are notes here.' 'Is this - these are hand-written!' 11th February 2011'You bet it is.' 'What a scrawl. Can you make head or tail of this?' 'Yeah, I think. Calculations. Trajectories, velocity, impact predictions. I could call it hobby work, but it's very thorough. And look here.' Underneath the notebook was another book, tall and lean. 'Physics handbook. For reference, I guess. Something must have been very wrong here if they had to do these by hand.' 'Or perhaps whoever wrote these had a good reason to keep it off-line.' 'Think that might be the case?' 'Maybe. The more I see in this place the less it makes sense to me.' -- These two are from a dream. I do get weird detailed dreams like that. I made the dialogue up, but the books and info was as described. I was only slightly feverish when I wrote/edited these, but I'm still not sure if they're coherent enough!
|
|