My Disloyal Followers

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

A Contest Thing I Wrote

 This is something I wrote for Rat, aka Waveclaw's contest on her blog. I hadn't spent much time on it, merely half an hour at the most, but I feel it isn't so terrible that I won't post it on here. I quite like the name Sord, and the fact that he is some creature, a creature I haven't decided yet. Therefore I've been writing some things with the name Sord. I may post those, and I may not. Tell me what you think!

    A tear slipped away into the fading darkness, mimicking the droplets rolling on the blood-stained window. “Shoot,” he whispered softly to himself, certain no one could be spying on him. Holding the test tube closer to his eye now, he squinted hard, in a futile attempt to release another drop of liquid.
    “I wouldn't do that.”
    The boy jumped, startled. He spun around quick enough to confuse human eyes. “How long have you been here?” he hissed, a twinge of worry flickering in his suppressed voice.
    A pair of gleaming cat-like golden eyes stared into his. They were above his own eye level, looking down upon him with no mercy. The pattering sound of the raindrops on the window mocked the silence that grew between them.
    Finally, an intake of breath. But instead of a reply, the boy found himself pressed up against the wall, the tip of a blade edging its way into his tough skin. Drops of warm blood began to run down his stomach. He stared up into the eyes whose body had imprisoned him.
    “Don't, Sord. It's always a useless attempt to kill me. Or to escape me.”
    Sord kept staring. Finally deciding that a little injury and blood was a more favorable option than death, he whipped out from the side, the blade tearing his skin viciously. Fighting the urge to double over in pain, he ran towards the door.
    The eyes gleamed at him from the door. “Did you really think, you could outrun me?” Then, quick as the lash of a whip, he grabbed Sord and twisted him painfully.
    A whimper escaped Sord's lips. “Why are you doing this to me?” he asked, pain dulling his tone. The blade had once again settled itself next to Sord's neck. A sneer escaped from the one who held him. When no reply found him, he asked, louder, “Who are you?”
    The grip slowly released on him, though suddenly weak, Sord's legs buckled and he found himself staring at the floor. “You really don't know who I am?” the voice questioned, sounding astonished. Then it hardened. “Are you really that dim-witted?”
    Suddenly he felt himself being heaved upward, not gently, and facing the window he had been near when trying to draw tears. “Look at these. Every single one of these drops,” the man instructed. “What is alike about them.”
    Sord didn't answer. Out of confusion, but mostly out of his arrogance. The arrogance that often cost people their lives, acting too proud in the face of danger. Even when his head swam, he held his posture and shut his mouth. A sharp pain seared through his back, and he realized that his soon-to-be murderer had brought out the blade again, and thrust it approximately an inch inwards, as a warning. A trembling gasp escaped Sord's lips.
     “I-I don't know,” he managed to croak out. He could only watch the water droplets zoom past. If only my tears flowed that easily. I might have been able to avoid this. The rain continued to feel sorry for him, possibly even more, with the howling wind splattering larger drops.
    All of a sudden, a blade wrenched deep into him. Waves of nausea began to carry him, lakes of darkness beginning to appear before him. He felt himself turned around, and sought the comfort of the wall against his warm, bleeding back.
    “I cannot believe you,” the voice whispered in his ear. “You truly do not recognize me?” A pause crept in, and Sord wondered if that was because he died until a sound came again. “I am your brother, Sord. The brother you betrayed so many years ago.”
    The last image Sord saw before Death scooped him up into his arms, was the cat eyes gleaming intently into his, pity, betrayal, and satisfaction weaved through them.
    A few moments later, blood stained the broken remains of the window, and two bodies lay huddled on the ground, motionless.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Competition Round 3 Results

 Everyone did great! I decided no disqualifications, since almost everyone scored the same. Congratulations, everyone!

Contestant 2 ~

    Tall, lofty buildings of marble and iron cluttered up the remains of the once beautiful, if not perfect, town of the happy people. Silvery mist pooled through open wounds in the slate flooring and the cold tang of remorse seemed to soar around the ghosts of the life known before. Flaws in the town only seen now in the remains were visible, emanating with the ancient songs that implied freedom and safety, when all was just a gaffe and a game. This town was a game, a play at some sort of doppelganger city or a second dimension where everything was exactly precise and pristine, as though it were the city of gods that it once was said to be.
    Buildings and buildings, structures and complexes, all scrupulously clean, all too perfect for someplace so benumbed. Withered leaves and old, broken possessions seemed like the only items that suggested this place was normal…was inhabited. The town had fled with the wind, the lives of the people holding the hands of the souls of the immortal, and now the carcasses lingered, perpetually living in their death.

Creativity ~ 7 It's a town, so not very new, but still very nice!

Vocabulary ~ 6 Maybe a little more?

Sentence Variety ~ 6 Very nice, but try to start more with other ways, than just describing something that is there.

Character Development ~ 10!

Action ~ 7 It kept me interested!

Final Comments ~ Wow! The writing style in this is really nice, I suggest you make it more exciting, though. And also, though I love the vague feeling, you should describe more of what sat in what direction, and etc. I couldn't really imagine how the place looked in my head. You received a 36!

Contestant 3 ~

    Welcome to cyberspace, a place like no other! You can explore this wonderful place from your very own swivel chair. Wondrous things, like nothing you’ve ever seen before, are just a click away! To your left, you will see we have a huge selection of exciting gaming websites to choose from, designed specifically for the newest generations! Between Poptropica, Clubpenguin, and Fantage, the young ones will never be bored!
    Teens, if you head to your right, you will find numerous social-networking sites that will help you connect with friends like never before! With Facebook, you can track the exciting little details of your friends’ lives, such as when they take a shower or run out of pasta. Bored? YouTube is just the place for you! Find new music, catch up on TV shows, and watch funny videos made by teens just like you. Even if the video-watching isn’t your thing, the comments are just as entertaining! Want to meet new people? Right this way to our millions of chatrooms, where you can interact with people from places like Russia and South Dakota. We have many blogging services too, for those of you who wish to talk about your uneventful life. Not sure what you’re into? Not a problem. Plenty of people get by looking at memes and trolling other websites!
    If you’re looking for any information at all, do not hesitate to use one of our search engines! No worries, they run 24/7 and are not on schedules like the trains in your pathetically real world are.
    Please do note that while the internet is far more advanced than your disgustingly boring Milky Way, it still has a few problems. Our search engines must be repaired sometimes, and may be shut down for a few hours. In addition, bugs, worms, Trojans, and viruses run free in this world, so it is recommended that you buy a security system to protect you. Even then, there is no guarantee of your well-being.
    Never mind that though! This is the internet, where browsers run on cookies and you are encouraged to write on walls! Nothing that is out up here will ever go away, everything in this world is immortal. You can always find what you are looking for, it will be here waiting for you.
    So welcome to the wonderful world of the internet, more properly known as cyberspace! We hope you enjoy your stay!
Creativity ~ 9 That was definitely creative! :)

Vocabulary ~ 5 Maybe extend a little more?

Sentence Variety ~ 6 Nice! I like the whole advertisement type of sentence structure.

Character Development ~ 10!

Action ~ 8 It was definitely interesting!

Final Comments ~ It was pretty cool! I like this idea, I never would have thought of something like this for this round. It held me captivated, and you got a 38!

    My bedroom is so much more than a tiny, closed-in space where I sleep. It’s where I do everything. The cream colored walls of the room are adorned with anything that has value to me. One of the walls had two sliding doors with mirrors that open to a closet filled with clothes, clean ones hung up and dirty ones carelessly scattered on the floor. The wall opposite the door has an enormous window. I keep the blinds down, because I’m not particularly fond of my neighbors, and get a satisfied feeling from shutting them out of my life like that. Pushed against the corner where the walls opposite to the window and closet meet is small bookshelf. It is pure white with three layers and a ton of books. I have a very effective way of organizing my books into the shelves. It’s called, “cram-everything-where-it-fits.” The wall across the window has a large ‘hole’ in it that leads to an add-on where there is a sink and a bunch of cabinets. Next to the sink is a door that belongs to a jack-and-jill bathroom. This is a bathroom that has rooms attached on both sides. My favorite part of my room, however, is the tall, sturdy bunk bed that stands on the carpeted floor at the center of the room. The bottom bunk is a normal bed, with covers thrown, but the top bunk is where I love to be. I love sitting up there, close enough to touch the ceiling and it’s non-working fan. I love the comforting smell of the blankets, laundry detergent mixed with sweat and tears. Sweat from the days I come home from school, tired, and snuggle in with my blanket and homework, working hard as 3OH!3 and All Time Low blare out of my phone. Tears from the nights I let go of the mask I wear to protect myself from the world, and cry myself to sleep. Over time, I’ve grown to trust the room that witnesses my every move, watching over me to keep me safe. And over time, I’ve come to love it as well.

Creativity ~ 6 A room isn't very creative, just saying. ;)

Vocabulary ~ 5 A little more?

Sentence Variety ~ 5 It's mostly, telling, not showing.

Character Development ~ 10!

Action ~ 7 Pretty boring, to be honest.

Final Comments ~ It was okay. Not your best work. Again, try to show more, don't tell. It makes everything seem more professional. ;) You scored a 33!

Contestant 5 ~

It was cold.  Sunshine spiraled down from the heavens, but it was dim, held no warmth.  I shivered, noting the corkscrew of breath as I exhaled.  It spread thinly, until it disappeared amongst the leaves.
    Winter had gripped the forest in its icy claw, frost glazing everything like a sheen of sweat. Everything glistened and gleamed, tiny diamonds imbedded in the white-blue polish that covered all.
    My arms curled around my body, goose-bumped skin rubbing against cloth.  I leaned back onto a tree, it's rough bark clawing at my shirt as I slid down.  My hair tangled against the trunk, pulling at my scalp with every inch I dropped.
    I thumped to the ground, the cold and wet seeping into my jeans.  My feet pushed against piles of fallen leaves, carving ruts in the dirt and slush.   
    The plants that surrounded me seemed like ice sculptures; unmoving, unknowing.  I could almost imagine hitting a bush with a stone, and it shattering into a million frozen pieces.  One hand tumbled to the ground, sifting through damp rotting leaves, searching for a piece of rock to test my theory.  But dirt was all that gripped my fingers.
    But for the scraping of my shoes, all was silent.  The life of the forest seemed to have frozen with the ice that had come. There were no chirps of birds, no animal rustling, no buzz of bugs.  There was no movement, no life.
    I was alone.

Creativity ~ 7 Nice. A forest.

Vocabulary ~ 6 Nice.

Sentence Variety ~ 7 Pretty good!

Character Development ~ 10!

Action ~ 8 Cool

Final Comments ~ It was nice! Interesting. :) It had that feeling of anticipation in it. Good job! You got a 38!

Contestant 6 ~

    It was not just any building- it was The Queen- just standing there as if the captain of all ships across the nation. It didn’t have bricks- it had stone. Sleek, gray, stone that was overlapped and coated with pure gold on the outside- not a single scratch. The Queen was in England, on the top of a grassy hill and overlooking the entire London. The Queen had doors of silver- platinum sterling silver with laces of ribbon incrusted in the handles, deeply carved with a lion on the side. The doors opened as smooth as glass- there wasn’t marble floors, there were diamond floors. Sparkling with the grand chandeliers that overlapped the entire ceiling- with paintings of all sizes- framed with dark brown oak wood. Stairs were carpeted with the finest, royal red as they draped up in a semicircle to meet at the top where there was a smooth, metal balcony looking over the entire entrance room… there were hallways that were like rooms- decorated with the finest care and painted with deadly accuracy. There was a draft that wavered in the wind that breezed slowly across the entire building- a mixture of cinnamon and vanilla sticks intertwined together with a sprinkle of lavender… The Queen had waterfalls all around it, sprinkling with delight and smiling with delight as the garden of apple trees, stone sidewalks, and bushes snipped into different shapes surrounded them. Windows made of diamond and edged off with metal slid out from underneath the dome at the top- topped off with a fluttering eagle. The Queen was more than a building. She was… the Queen. 

Creativity ~ 7. WHOA A BUILDING! Just's good!

Vocabulary ~ 7 Nice!

Sentence Variety ~ 7 I like the way you started each sentence.

Character Development ~ 10!

Action ~ 7 Kept me interested!

Final Comments ~ I liked it! The way you wrote made it seem almost magical, in a sense. Keep it up! 38!

Contestants 3, 5, and 6 all tied for first place with a 38. Good job! That was a first.

And now, for next round, due Friday as usual....

Prompt: Include something with the dialogue: "Just try. Try to remember those old feelings. Don't kill me."

You can change it here and there to help it fit better,but make sure it has the same meaning to it! Good luck everyone!

Thursday, February 23, 2012

A Drawing I am Drawing

Hey! I was just messing around today when my friends were doing a science experiment on my cats...which ended up failing. So I started drawing a girl, not human, but I don't know what to call her. Tell me what you think! It's a work in progress and I just started!
I still have to fix A LOT but I felt like posting the starting of it! Comment please!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

~Insert Page Here~

I have stolen Rat's idea. Well I suppose I'm the only one who calls her Rat. I have stolen Waveclaw's idea. It may not have been her idea to begin with, but she uses it on her blog.

So, it came up that NO ONE VISITS MY PAGES and I find that disappointing, since all of your blogs, the ones I follow and regularly check up on, people always visit the pages and comment on them. I've also noticed I am the person who receives the least comments. Any suggestions on how I can change that? I like comments. It makes a blog look popular.

So, maybe if I put up some sign saying that this page has been updated, you will go see that one, and maybe, possibly comment? So I will put the ~ ~ on every page I have recently updated, and allow you to just check that one. After one week, or maybe less, I'll take it off. I'll try not to update multiple times in the same time period.

So yes. I will soon be updating. Watch out!

Monday, February 20, 2012

New Blog

So I know. I have a billion blogs already, and it's crazy of me to start a new one. Unfortunately, I am crazy. So here is a blog, addressing no particular topics, then blabbering in general, by Fira Marine. I will be addressed as Fira on it. At least for as long as I can stand it. So yeah. I haven't yet decided if I'll add a Cbox, since that adds spammers and reduces comments, but I might. Yes. So check it out!

Also, I am overdue on some blogs I need to post, just to say that you should check them out. These blogs are owned by friends of mine, and they are worth looking at.

A Pencil and Paper ~
My Messy Desk ~
BreezeClan, Clan of Wind ~

And a startup, one of my friends created it, this is her first blog.


Sunday, February 19, 2012

Competition Round 2 Results

First, I'll say I am extremely disappointed. Last week I posted the results one day early, allowed the entries one day later, so you had two extra days for it. Then, on Friday night, I was still missing three! So I have you until Saturday night, and someone still had the nerve to ask for extra time. Well I said no, and so finally I got that person's entry last night. I am missing Contestant 1 and 4's entries, so unfortunately, they are now disqualified from the contest.

Contestant 1 ~ Missing

Contestant 2 ~

It was with a low snarl it started
Echoing soft as snow
And with a chill, a frost, a breeze
I got to meet my foe

I tossed my hair of titan red
Haughty and ice cold
His grey eyes narrowed, meeting mine
A burnt sienna-gold

I slapped his face, my heart pounding
Fear rotting me to the core
Looked up did he, with a face of surprise
Taunting me for more

Wrath of revenge lithe and brittle
He threw me to the floor
Gave a pounding I could not meet
And walked straight out the door

But cold was I at heart and hand
Thus I struggled to my feet
And shouting a cry of fury
I made an attempt at defeat

 I ran out into the storm
Nothing but loneliness at hand
I felt the pang of low distress
As I went to hit my man

My feeble blows knocked his chest
And bounced straight back at me
He let out a snide chuckle, as soft has he could
But it couldn’t get past me

A growl escaped my cold, chapped lips
I stumbled heavily forth
To push this knife into his waist
The trouble would be no more

Before I could make a move,
He’d grabbed my hand in his own
Kissed it once, but with a frown
Kicked me forcefully down

He turned to me, eyes red, skin cold
And he told me just this
“If I hadn’t loved you, if you hadn’t too
We wouldn’t be having this.”

I lost my best friend that day
I lost my husband too
I lost my home, my love and joy
Because I was a fool

Creativity ~ 8 Pretty cool

Vocabulary ~ 9 Met the expectations for you.

Sentence Variety ~ 9 Not much to say....

Character Development ~ 8 I wish I'd understand more.

Action ~ 9 Interesting

Final Comments ~ Interesting fight scene you had there. I hadn't thought of this approach. You scored a 43. I think. I'm terrible at math.

  It commenced with a low, unearthly sound, barely detectable, coming from the darkest patch of undergrowth. With mounting panic, Fawn soundlessly hurdled through the trees, barely landing properly on the next branch before soaring off again. A hardly mistakable knife missed her by only inches, and panic began to seize her, growing cold and intensifying with every second of the attack.
She paused to catch her breath, and took a quick glance at the familiar knife that had nearly hit her. With a shudder, she identified the knife as her own, stolen by the man who had annexed her boarding school, and left her homeless.
  Then he came. Swinging on a high up bough, only a couple of trees distance away, he flew into her, pummelling her with large, scarred hands, scratching her face with those long, sharpened claws that left her lying awake for weeks to come, and into the thickets they landed, mute screams of pain hovering over them.
  Without any warning, Fawn tugged at her knife, which was caught in the tangled sheets of her belt, and with a fierce wrench, pulled it free from its grasp, and turned it onto her opponent. Baffled, he attempted to swipe her hand aside, hitting the blade by accident. He cursed vociferously, clutching in rising desperation at his bleeding hand, radiating a burning hate that left Fawn unquestionably petrified.
She took this opportunity to push her way out of the thickets, her opponent following suit, still wringing his hurt hand in his other, eyes narrowed on his target.
  Fawn’s fear had left her deaf; the only sound she heard was her pounding heartbeat, leaving her weak and vulnerable. A smash on her skull rammed her into a large oak, knocked unconscious and bleeding badly. Her knife lay on the forest floor, steps away from her lifeless, outstretched hand, out of reach, taunting her broken body.
  The man took a look at her knife, and swaggered over to it, bending down to take a better look. On picking it up, he found the knife to have a blade of diamond and a bronze, customary engraved hilt.   One would’ve expected him to pocket such a wonderful treasure, but instead, he lifted her hand gently, and slid the knife into her frozen grasp.
  He lit a sparkler, tossing it into the sky, letting it cling onto the leaves, and thus he left, leaving her to be found by another, leaving her to live.

Creativity ~ 8 Nice.

Vocabulary ~ 9 Same old, same expected from you. ;) Impressive.

Sentence Variety ~ 8 Maybe try starting with prepositions more.

Character Development ~ 9 Pretty cool. Confusing though, at the end.

Action ~ 9 What can I say?

Final Comments ~ Very nice. You are expected to do wonderfully forever now, so if you disappoint me you face consequences. You scored, again, a 43.

Contestant 3 ~

    Two boys trudged through the moonlit desert, daypacks slung over their shoulders. Beads of sweat dripped from the shorter one’s face, and he wiped off his forehead with his sleeves.
    “You really think we’ll be safe?” he asked the other, whispering as though someone might overhear them.  The taller one shrugged.
    “They wouldn’t dare follow us into enemy territory, would they Brandon?”
    “Not they. But he would,” answered a voice behind them. The two boys spun around to see a young man, about 19-ish, stroking a knife blade with his fingers. It was too dark to see, but they knew him well enough to know that he was grinning ever so slightly. “How’s your shoulder Ian?” the guy asked the taller boy.
    Ian shuddered and subconsciously moved his hand to his shoulder, where a shape resembling a snake had been etched in with a knife. “It’s fine,” he answered, teeth gritted tightly. “Just fine Karl.”
    Karl smiled. “And you Brandon? We never got around to yours, did we now? Seriously, do you really think you can just walk into enemy territory and they’ll let you live? Well, think again.”
    “Maybe not me, but they’ll take Brandon,” Ian said.
    “I know. But we can’t have that, now can we? I need both of you dead.” Karl said pointedly, staring straight at Brandon. He dropped his knife, and in a flash, was by Brandon’s side, holding him in a headlock with a gun to his forehead. “Last words?” he asked, tightening his grip on Brandon.
    Ian lunged for the knife. “Don’t!” he hissed at Karl. “Don’t. You. Dare.”
    Karl laughed. “I’m sorry it had to go this way Ian. If only you had agreed to our terms before. But you decided to sneak Brandon out. And now it’s too late.” Karl placed his finger on the trigger.
    “You wouldn’t,” Ian muttered, eyes widening. Karl pulled back his finger. Before Ian could figure out what had happened, there was an explosion and Brandon was on the floor.
    “NO!” Ian screamed. He threw himself forward, tackling Karl, and plunged the knife into him. Karl tried to pull out the knife, but Ian dug it in deeper and held it there. Karl squirmed as blood gushed out of the wound and covered them both.
    “You’ll pay,” Karl mouthed. He spit in Ian’s face, then lay still, cold.
    Gasping and panting, Ian attempted to stand, but his legs were wobbly and he fell over. He crawled his way over to Brandon and shook him gently. “Brandon!” he whispered. “Come on Brandon, you’re okay.”
    Brandon didn’t answer and he didn’t move. “No, you’re not dead. You’re fine!” Ian choked on his words. “You can’t be dead!” He knew he must be, because Brandon had taken a bullet to the head, but Ian just couldn’t accept that. Panicking now, Ian felt around for a pulse. Nothing.  Brandon was dead, lying on the ground with the gun across his chest. He would never wake up again. They’d never speak, never be able to laugh at their gang members in secret. It was all over. There was nothing in Ian’s life anymore. No purpose, no reason to live.
    Suddenly, Ian picked up the gun. He closed his eyes, placed his fingers on the trigger, and held it to his head.
    Then, in that moment, Ian put down the gun. He wasn’t going to kill himself. No, instead, he decided that he would kill every single member of the East Side gang.
    Karina woke to the sound of thunder and bright flash of lightning. She turned over onto her side, and saw her best friend, Sharice, sleeping soundly on the floor next to her. Well, everything seems alright, she thought to herself. Maybe she’ll get through the night. Telling herself that everything would be fine, she shut her eyes closed and tried to sleep. The clock on the wall ticked silently, slowly, making seconds seem like forever. Thunder boomed again and Karina groaned. It would be a miracle if she ever got sleep.
    Karina heard a tiny moan from behind her. Startled she turned to see her friend lying with her hands across her chest. She hadn’t been like that a moment ago. Karina decided it was nothing and started to turn back around. I’m just being paranoid, she told herself.
    Suddenly, Sharice began to shake. Karina could feel it through the floorboards. She turned again to see her friend, sweating wildly but shivering at the same time.
    “Sharice!” Karina whispered. “Are you okay?”
    “I need… give me…” Sharice muttered, rising. She started crawling towards Karina’s dresser, not exactly in a daze, but with a crazed look on her face all the same. She bumped into it, and grabbed an injection that was lying there.
    “No! Give me that!” Karina shrieked, as she realized with horror what was happening. Sharice paid no attention. Carefully, she placed the injection where she wanted it and pressed it. Her facial muscles relaxed and she blinked slowly.
    “Sharice. Put that down!” Karina scolded.
    Sharice scoffed. “It’s okay Karina. It’s just a bit of morphine. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
    “You’ve had enough for a lifetime in the past week!”
    “So what? I’m gonna like, die or something? Is that what you think? Puh-lease Karina! Be reasonable. It’s not like I overdosed or anything.”
    Karina’s worried look turned to one of anger. “All right then Sharice. But don’t come to me when you start vomiting blood.” She turned around, and rested her head against the pillow. “Now shut up. I need to sleep.”
    Sharice rolled her eyes. “Mmhm. Vomit blood, yeah uh, like that’s gonna happen,” she muttered, making her way back to her sleeping back. “Don’t worry Karina. Good night.”
    Karina didn’t answer. Slowly, she drifted off into a light, hazy sleep.
    Much time passed before Karina woke up again. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She could see from her position in the room that the hallway light was on.
    “Sharice?” she whispered, turning to her side, where her friend was. Or should have been. Sharice was gone, and her sleeping area was a mess. “Sharice?” Karina asked again, louder now. No answer. Karina cursed under her breath and threw her blankets off. She grabbed the flashlight lying next to her and turned it on. In three quick strides, Karina reached her door and opened it. The path of lights led from her hallway to a bathroom. The door was closed, but a light was on.
    Karina tapped lightly on the door. “Sharice?” she called softly. There was no answer. She knocked harder. “You there?” Still no answer. A little scared now, Karina pushed open the door.
    “No,” she muttered, terrified. “That can’t be!”
    Sharice was lying on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding her body. Karina ran up to Sharice and shook her. “Sharice!”
    Sharice didn’t move, didn’t flinch. She was cold, which let Katrina to believe she’d been there for a couple of hours. And as much as Katrina didn’t want to admit it, she knew her friend was dead. She’d died from an overdose of morphine, which she had gotten addicted to two months earlier. Sharice had fallen in with the wrong crowd, a gang called East Side, and they had gotten her addicted to morphine. She’d only been taking it for two months, but she took it in such large amounts, that it had finally worn her down.
    Karina swallowed hard. Thoughts, memories flashed through her mind. All those things she loved about her life. Her mom, dad, sister, Sharice, and that one boy she’d met, Ian or something. But all that was gone now, wiped out by the East Side gang members when Sharice had joined. Her parents had been brutally killed, her sister burned alive. An overdose of morphine had taken Sharice’s life, and Karina had no idea what had happened to Ian. He was probably dead though.
    What more did she have to live for? Nothing. And with this thought in mind, Karina walked back to her dresser and picked up a morphine injection. Life wasn’t worth living anymore, so she might as well die the way Sharice had, to honor her. Karina lifted the injection and pressed it against the skin of her shoulder. She couldn’t inject herself though, no matter how hard she tried. Anger blurred her thoughts, and she dropped the needle. No, she wasn’t going to die. Not until she avenged all those deaths. And she would do it by getting back at each and every member of the East Side gang, taking their lives just like they had taken the ones of whom she had loved.

Creativity ~ 9 Really cool!

Vocabulary ~ 8 Impressive. ;)

Sentence Variety ~ 8 Starting with “and” was nice in some places, but try to ease it up a bit.

Character Development ~ 9 Really good! It has that sort of mystery yet enough to know atmosphere.

Action ~ 9 Nice.

Final Comments ~ WHOA. Breakthrough from the last round, eh? You're doing great! Keep it up! You scored marks of 43.

Contestant 4 ~ Missing

Contestant 5 ~

    Ashes.  They fell from the sky like snowflakes, remnants of past happiness.  Wind threw them in spirals, almost beautiful.  But  ashes aren’t a thing of beauty.
    The forest still stood.  If you could call it a forest.  Blackened trees twisted wildly towards the sky, clawed branches  reaching.  Gray flakes littered the ground, stifling any growth that remained in the eerie silence.  Not a single living thing, from the proudest buck to the most insignificant ant, were left.
    Except her.  A lone girl, stumbling over charred wood, sifting through burnt leaves.  Her hands were bloodstained, dirt and filth covering the rest.  She was running from someone,  something, hacking blindly through withered undergrowth in attempts to escape.  The crashing she made was the only noise in the deadened trees.
    A crane flapped down to a blackened branch, watching the girl intently through sightless eyes.  This wasn't an ordinary crane however; it was made of folded paper, enchanted by a warlock's spell.  It fluttered it's flower-patterned wings impatiently, making a sound that could only be described as the rustling of paper.
    The girl below took no notice, scrambling desperately through the soot-stained greenery.
    "Tatiana."  It wasn't spoken as a shout, more of a whisper in fact, but it was loud as a scream in the deafening silence.  Tatiana turned, stumbling backwards into a deadened stump.  Her eyes were wide with horror, a mouse who'd heard an eagle's cry.
    Then a silver-haired man walked into the scene, stepping out of the air as though he'd been there are along.  His grey suit was immaculate but for a small red stain just over the heart.
    "You didn't really think you were faster than me, did you?"  his voice was softer now, spoken like a cool breeze over silk.  He was staring at the girl with a look of twisted satisfaction, twirling a blade that suddenly appeared in his hand.
    Her mouth moved soundlessly, teeth bared as her lips formed the words she could not utter; I will not submit.
    "Hmm.  I'd forgotten.  You are mute, yes?"  His incisors were sharp now, sharper than any human's teeth should be.  "Much more the better;  no one will hear your scream…"
    Above them, a shadow shifted.  The crane perched nearby clicked in alarm, swooping down towards  its master.  The man glanced at it in satisfaction.
    "Ah yes, the paper crane; such a wonderful Japanese invention, wouldn't you agree?"  His tone was now more appropriately defined as the idle chatting between friends.  His serrated teeth gleamed in the noon-day sun.  The crane chittered again in warning, but its master paid it no mind.  "I've always enjoyed working with paper.  No one seems to expe-"
    He broke of midsentence as a figure dropped between them.   "One thing about paper however,"  the newcomer said, "is that it doesn't tend to be very loud"
    Tatiana would have shouted with glee if she could, but as it was, she mouthed one word; Razumel
    Razumel had onyx hair, loose-fitted jeans just as dark.  He wore no shirt, and tattoos swirled over his chest and arms; skeletons that held their grinning heads, screaming angels with burnt wings, and in some places, simply eyes.  In his hand was a gleaming sword, curving as long as his forearm.
    "Hello Baltu."  His smile was like a razor blade.  "Long time, no see."
    "That might be because I've spent the last ten years burning in hellish inferno,"  Baltu spat, his relatively even tone at odds with the look of hatred that played across his face, "Nightstalker."
    "Yes, your escape took much longer than I expected." Razumel drummed his fingers against the hilt of his blade.  "I must say; I am disappointed."
    "If you knew I would escape," Baltu's voice got louder with every word  "why did you put me there IN THE FIRST PLACE?"  His final words were a roar.
    Razumel chuckled, a sound as dangerous as the slither of a snake.  "Because I knew it would piss you off."
    Without even a blur of motion as warning, their blades clashed, the sound ringing through the oppressive silence.  Baltu's knife suddenly matched Razumel's in length, but strait as the latter's was curved.
    Razumel held his sword lazily, as though play-fighting with a younger sibling.  Baltu on the other hand, was getting steadily redder as his own knife tilted towards him.  Soon he was was panting from the exertion of keeping himself from being skewered.
    But his magic had not deserted him.  Baltu opened the palm of one hand, slashing it towards the ground.  Multi-colored sparks breezed off his fingertips, hitting the gray ashes with a burning intensity.  Tatiana gazed, open-mouthed, as the pinpricks of light grew, unfolding themselves into… cranes.
    These cranes were not like the original, however.  Their wings were edged with paper-thing silver, their beaks as sharp as needles.   They made the same rustling sound as the first, and somehow this was worse than screeching; the eerie silence made them all the more sinister.
    Razumel let out a brief noise of surprise before releasing Baltu to slash at the paper birds.  They attacked with a viciousness that was adverse to their beautiful exteriors, buzzing around him like a swarm of murderous wasps.  Soon their oriental patterns were obscured by dark stains of blood.
    Baltu dropped his sword, knowing he was no match for Razumel in a physical confrontation.  A white glow appeared before his outstretched hands, swirling with clusters of jagged black bolts. Tatiana's eyes widened with fear;  Razumel was busy cutting the birds to ribbons, distracted enough to be kept away from the magician.  Meanwhile the light grew stronger, shaping itself into a giant white sheet… and folding.
    With a soundless screech, Tatiana threw herself onto Baltu, knocking him backwards into the ashes.  But the damage was done, the paper finishing folding independently.  She tried to hold him down regardless, his snapping teeth inches from her throat.
    The last green crane fell shredded to the ground with a disproportionate thump, kicking up gray dust.  Razumel turned towards the two, raising his sword just in time as the writhing mass of paper slammed into him.
    The tiger slashed at the man with claws that glittered like razor blades.  Razumel ducked, slashing his sword across the offending paw, and slicing through it like butter.  His amused grin quickly turned to a look of incredulity as the paper re-folded itself, a new leg emerging from the churning white.
    To make matters worse, another tiger, much smaller than the first, unfolded itself from the missing appendage.  It's snarl was higher, but all the more ominous from the message it brought.  Razumel growled, sounding for all the world like a beast himself, throwing himself at the animals with feverish intensity.  The ground turned red, churning with blood and ash.
    Tatiana was meanwhile losing her struggle against Baltu.  He had the advantage of size, easily overpowering her.  Her scream was lost in her throat as she slammed against a tree, slumping to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
    "Tatiana!" Razumel gasped, horror in his eyes.  He made as if to start towards her, but this distraction was all the tigers needed.  The both slammed into him with the force of a speeding truck.  The ripped at him with silver teeth, their jaws stained with blood.
    Baltu pushed himself to his feet, grinning like a maniac.  His previously spotless suit was now grimy and ash-stained, his face black with soot.  "You win this time, Nightstalker" he growled, a statement made strange by Razumel's obvious struggle.  He stepped forward and disappeared once more into the air.
    Luckily, the tigers disappeared with him; vanishing between one strike and the next, their voices cut off mid-roar.  "Tatiana!" Razumel called, struggling to his feet.  His chest was now streaming with blood, his arms gouged with deep cuts.  He stumbled over to where the girl lay, horror written all over his expression.
     "Tatiana!" He whispered desperately, shaking hand nudging her limp form.
    Raaazz?  Her eyes opened blearily, mouth contorting oddly  around his nickname. Yuur alriiite.    Razumel closed his eyes in relief, breath catching as he spoke.  For others it would have been impossible to understand her in this state, but  Razumel was used to it after all this time. "Why, why would you do that?"  He folded her into his arms, relishing the thump of her heart against his, the rise and fall of her chest.
    he could've killed you. She drew back and signed with her hands now instead.  I couldn't let him kill you.  She stared at Razumel with those big blue eyes of hers.
    "You know he can't kill me. Not like that"  he cupped her face between his palms.  Dirty and bloodstained as they where, smeared with soot and ash, they still looked beautiful to each other. "The only way he could hurt me," he continued, "would be by hurting you."
    They leaned into each other, mouths meeting.  The only ray of happiness in a land of death.

Creativity ~ 9 Very nice

Vocabulary ~ 9 Satisfactory :)

Sentence Variety ~ 8 Same

Character Development ~ 9 Really good! I understood them perfectly!

Action ~ 9 Very nice.

Final Comments ~ It was nice. Lol I wasn't too fond of the end, as you already know, but the rest was pretty good. You scored a 44.

Contestant 6 ~

  Closing my eyes, swirls of pink, green, wrapped all around the black sky I stared into. I frowned instinctively as I saw little dots appear… you know those dots when you close your eyes that appear? Well, if not, you should try to see them. Then, suddenly, I felt thrown back. The force of the blow left my seat bone throbbing with pain. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to stay awake.
  “What the…” I whispered as I stood up slowly and looked around. It was a dark landscape- the stars were red in the sky, not even twinkling. Ravens with black eyes and red feathers cawed strangely at me, then opened their beautiful wings and soared off. I was standing on stone pavement, brick by brick attached. There were bits and chips of rocks detached from the pavement and they somehow made their way to me. I looked around and then suddenly it came. Pain erupted through my whole body as I felt the bunch of energy drain from my stomach. Doubling over in pain, I glared at the newcomer. Tense air drew between us as the new comer growled at me.
  “What do YOU want?” It hissed. “This is my territory.” Growling, he leapt upon my back and pressed a steel blade upon the back of my neck.
  “What  are you talking about? What territory?” I wailed, trying to stay as desperate as I could. He chuckled and sliced a thin layer of my skin off as I screamed in agony. Drips of blood trickled down my neck and I could smell the scent of my own skin been torn apart.
  “You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about.” He hissed. Laughing, I spun around and kicked him off. I did know what he was talking about, and I was here to win this territory. I landed on my feet and unsheathed two swords in which I wrapped around my arms, growling I launched at him and sliced at him in the middle of the air. The cut on my neck was going to be nothing compared to what I would do to him. I dodged nimbly from side to side as he made small, jabbing, movements from both his daggers and I quickly whipped out my smoke bomb, unleashing it without hesitation. I felt his frustration as he moved nimbly from side to side, knowing in fog it was best to keep moving. I crept on the ground, surreptitiously, searching for a pair of bare feet. Alas! I whisked out my small knife and thrust it into his boney foot, watching the jagged edge slowly first meet the skin, lacerate it, and then burrow in like a dog digging in earth. It made a crunching sound, as if someone had ate a bone from a chicken leg- the reverberation was ringing through my ears as I felt- I felt the screams inside his fury- the screams of pain and anguish. This would be my territory. I would win this land. My army would grow.   At least, after minutes of waiting for time to elapse, I took the knife out, watching his red, body fluid drip through the one hole of his foot. I licked the knife greedily and felt myself empowered. The shards on my tongue reminded me I was not yet done. By now the fog had cleared and I could see his eyes burning with fire- smoke and vigor. His conflagrated temper burst out as he snarled and took a strike at me, throwing his arm at my chest. I ducked so his arm was above my head, and then I took it off. I threw my knife right above his arm, taking it off.
  Moments passed. I stared at the throbbing half-arm, sitting there as dull as life at midnight. I could see the living tissue pulsating along with the bone and I glanced at him, a grin escaping my lips. Just as I turned, he was there, with his sword. My eyes opened.

Creativity ~ 8 Nice.

Vocabulary ~ 8 Pretty good.

Sentence Variety ~ 8 Not much to say.

Character Development ~ 7 We really don't know anything.

Action ~ 8 Nice.

Final Comments ~ That was really good for your first round! I like your descriptions, and the fight was really interesting. Keep it up! 39 :)

If the font doesn't show up correctly, well there's nothing I can do about it unfortunately. But I would like to congratulate Contestant 5 for receiving a 44, the highest this time. There will be no disqualifications this round, because there have already been two.

Prompt: Description of of setting. Vocabulary and sentence variety will be more difficult this time!

May the Force be with you.

Friday, February 17, 2012


Well, well. Look at that. Someone as awesome as me? I didn't think it possible.

So, yes. Unfortunately, the wondrous and great Fira Marine has succumbed to pneumonia. It's slightly disappointing, really, considering I have never gotten really sick before.

Though I suggest not to feel sorry for me, since I still have the same personality, same mood, same everything. And the same wanting to chat up the weekend with you guys. Who else has next week off from school? I'd be very happy to talk with you.

So that's all...frustratingly, I have not been writing, mostly reading. I'm almost finished with Clockwork Angel, and it was a bit disappointing. By far, The Mortal Instruments were better. But I never put down a book before finishing it, which can get annoying sometimes. And I never ignore a series till I've finished it either. SO that is all I've been doing.

Some other news is that I for some strange reason have become interested in my fail of a story, Snowy Forest again. If I feel up to looking at the miserable piece of writing, I may consider continuing it.

And the last and final, and MOST IMPORTANT news is that ALL ROUND 2 ENTRIES DUE BY TONIGHT!

That's all for now. Bye!

Wednesday, February 15, 2012


That awkward moment. That awkward moment when you have nothing to do but homework. That awkward moment when you come online to find no one there. That awkward moment when you've done everything possible on the computer. That awkward moment when you've done everything possible off the computer. That awkward moment when your homework is staring you in the eyes. That awkward moment called boredom.

A Rewrite

   Dizziness engulfed her, the unfamiliar scene pirouetting before her eyes. Something sharp prodded her, and Kaiya managed to focus her eyes enough to see a boy with startling gray eyes and slightly ruffled light brown hair falling carelessly on his face. In his hand, he clutched a blunt spear as if his life depended on it, though his face seemed to have the innocence of a fifteen year old, the same as she.
  After a few moments of painful struggling, Kaiya managed to haul herself to an uncomfortable sitting position.   Her victory was short-lived, immediately a knife kissed her throat, the boy leaning in close. From the short distance, and as her mind slowly stopped twirling, she noticed his clothes were torn, his face showed the struggle of an old man trying to make a life for himself. Though pity inched itself in, Kaiya was mostly overwhelmed by fear.
  “Where did you come from?” he sneered menacingly, leaning in close to her, attempting to pose a threat to her. Unwilling to answer to a stranger, she broke free of his grasp, flinching as the knife scratched her, and ran a few steps away from him. Kaiya thought she could see a twinge of amusement curve the corners of his lips, though she couldn't be certain. Still overruled by fear, she picked up a medium sized rock and through it at him with all her strength.
  When it clattered to the ground closer to her than to him, he let out a laugh. A cruel laugh, the type that an enemy would laugh when he knew you had been defeated. The cruelness lit up his face, giving her a smile of dread before he turned around and stalked away.
  Relief reawakening her curiosity, Kaiya turned around and examined her surroundings. A sandy white beach was laid out before her, a thick jungle displayed next next to it.

One of my closest friends had to write a fictional narrative about survival for her English teacher. When she showed it to me, no offense but, it was so miserable that I was too tempted to rewrite it. Even she agreed, saying that she hadn't written like that since fifth grade. I would post what she wrote up here but I won't for the sake of embarrassment.  This isn't finished, because eventually I got bored of writing something not of my interest. And the rest of the piece she wrote was all alone, about surviving on some island. Not very entertaining. Anyway, hope you liked it!

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Competition Round 1 Results

First off, I would like to say that each and every entry I received were amazing. Even if you received a bad score, you still did very good. No one scored under 25, which I find extremely impressive.

Second, I am quite sick right now, I even ditched my ballet classes I was feeling so terrible. I couldn't move around so I was thinking there's no way I can go there. So instead of posting the results tomorrow morning, like I promised, I'm posting them today. I'm sure you're very happy about that, but the reason behind it is because I'll feel even worse when I wake up in the morning. I can only hope I'm well enough to go to school on Monday.

And now. I have decided to post what each person has written, but for the sake of embarrassment, in case you feel it, I am not saying names. I have already informed you what number contestant you are, so I suggest you look at that. Also, read all the way to the bottom. I mean, you don't have to read others' writing, but at least check your marks and the new prompt.

Contestant 1

  A black she-cat panted hard as she threw himself at an orange-yellow tom. The black rain fell hard on her fur and pounded her pelt like needles in a cloth. The orange tom snarled as he dodged the attack swiftly. The she-cat fell on her belly, exhausted from the fight. She could feel the tom’s presence; he was going to kill her. But just then a bolt of lightning struck the tom as he fell to the ground. The she-cat got up and scampered into a cave, protecting her from the cold, black rain. The sun shined brightly in the cave awakening the she-cat to find another cat beside her. It wasn’t the tom she had fought the other night; it was a different cat, but who? The yellow-blonde tom stared at her with worry in his eyes. “Are you ok? I saw your friend outside,” he asked.
  “I’m fine and that wasn’t my friend…” she replied
  “I’m Thornmoon. Who are you?” he asked
  “I’m Nightshade. That cat over there was trying to kill me last night!!!” Nightshade replied
  “Why?” Thornmoon asked horrified
  “It’s kind of a long story but I can tell you if you want…” Nightshade replied “Well, when we were kits, I was always a better warrior than him; I hunted better, fought better, even acted better. So when I became a warrior first, he got really mad and never really talked to me much, so I guess that was his way of saying ‘Thanks for nothing.’” She said
  “Oh, my!!!” Thornmoon exclaimed “That’s quite, an… interesting reason to try and murder a cat…” he replied laughing a bit.
  “Tell me about it…Fox dung!!! I have to go!!!” Nightshade said as she ran towards the entrance of the cave.
  “Wait!!! You’re from PathClan right?” he asked
  “Yes, I am.” She sniffed the air. “You’re from… MoonClan!!!” she exclaimed moving backwards before running towards camp.
  “The one cat I meet and like is from PathClan!!! Why, why, why…” he said pounding his head. Nightshade ran to camp as fast as her wounded legs could allow her too; finally reaching camp she padded over to the Warriors’ Den and fell into a deep slumber. She slept for quite a while until Sunmist woke her up.
  “Come on! Lightstar is announcing the new deputy!” Sunmist said running over under the Evergreen.
  “I’m coming…” Nightshade said.
  “May our warrior ancestors look up upon this cat and approve my choice, Dustpelt, will be our new deputy. Congratulations.” Lightstar said jumping down from the Evergreen.

Creativity ~ 8 I can see that this is leading to some forbidden love ;)

Vocabulary ~ 6 Work on it, but it's proficient for your age.

Sentence Variety ~ 4 You only used nouns and dialogues.

Charrie Develop ~ 5 I'd have liked to get to know them a little better.

Action ~ 5 Slightly bored me.

Final Comments ~ You could maybe have spent a little more time in describing the scenes, and make it a slight bit less hasty. It felt rushed, like the dialogues were being forced upon the characters. Maybe next time, just elaborate more on each and every detail. And it was really good for your age!!! You scored a 28.

Contestant 2
  Katniss was dying. With every breath she took, her life seemed closer to the edge the breath before, and this time finally she was frightened. Every near-death experience before this all seemed so unproblematic to her, given that she always had her pack with her, but this time, her pack was in a wolf-cave somewhere, and here she lay in a part of the woods far from civilisation with an infected stab wound gushing out blood every time she loosened her grip. Cassie started to worry that she would lay out there, in the woods, with no-one knowing where she was, while she gave up the ghost. Not that she had many people who would be worried about her, she added on bitterly.
  Katniss shook her mane of brown free from her flimsy elastic band, feeling the mud soak into her hair and harden on her scalp. A cooling, calming sensation tingled in every pore of her skull, leaving her with her eyes closed in peace. The dull, pulsing ache reminded her of her injuries, and with a cry of horror, she realised that she hadn’t been holding on tight enough; blood lay in a pool around her shivering body, and ran free from the wound.
   With a sudden burst of inspiration, she scooped a handful of thin leaves, bound together by mud, and slapped it onto her wound, the pain of the stab replayed over and over. Feeling the tender skin wince at the touch, he screwed her eyes shut in pain. Ignoring all the aches and the hurt, Katniss wrapped her jacket around her leg, securing it with a rusty pin that once served as a killing tool.
   Prim would know what to do. Prim always knew what to do with cases like these. She was born a healer, and nothing less.
   Blinking her eyes sleepily awake, she tried to keep herself active, knowing that if she happened to slip into unconscious, her chances of survival would go from little to nothing. Shifting herself onto her stomach, she used one arm to shakily rise onto two legs once more.
   With a slight glance, she found her bearings, and figured that she would probably reach the village in two hours, if she managed to walk briskly non-stop. She gritted her teeth, in attempt to numb the pain, and set off in a slow shuffle that seemed to tell her that she wasn’t going to make it out of the woods alive.
   The twittering mockingays in the leaves of the trees seemed to be mocking her with their sweet, cheerful melodies, and she found herself murmuring tunes from her childhood that seem to be within those mockingjay songs. And soon, they were.
   The forest rang out with a harmonised song she had sung, and the mockingjays took to the skies, singing, singing.
   After what seemed like forever, though, in reality, it had only been half an hour, Katniss slumped onto the woods floor, head in between her legs, short quick breaths, and beats of her heart pulsing in her ears.
   In the last moments before the final blackout, the final breath, the final second, she thought of Prim, her mother and most of all, she thought of Peeta. Peeta Mellark, the kindest, sweetest boy she knew, the boy who loved her, who fought for her. Peeta, the saviour, had gotten her this far.
   Through her drying lips, she managed to rasp four words, the words that she would die with.
   “I love you too.”

Creativity ~ 9 It's pretty cool. ;)

Vocabulary ~ 9 Uhhhhhhhhhh I have a worry poking in my head that you just may have a larger vocabulary than me.

Sentence Variety ~ 9 It didn't vary much, but you managed to do it in a way, that it doesn't sound repetitive.

Character Development ~ 9 That was definitely Katniss. ;) Except for the whole loving Peeta part. That just didn't seem right.

Action ~ 9 Not very evenful, but full of suspense, the action I look for.

Final Comments ~ That was really good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But there's always room for improvement! You have me scared that you're a better writer than me. You got a 45!

Contestant 3

Tratie Story
We were both young when I first saw you
I tug a weed as the flashback starts,
Fingers blue and black
Saving strawberries from winter's wrath
See the frost, see the strawberries dying
See you make your way through the grass
And say "Hello"
Little did I know
That you were Travis Stoll, trying to steal my heart
And Demeter said, "stay away from my daughter,"
But I was crying in the Great Hall, begging you "please don't go,"
And I said,
"Travis, take me somewhere we can be alone,
I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run
So you obliged and soon time started to fly,
It's a Tratie story, baby just say yes."
So I sneak down to the stables to see you,
We keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew,
So close your eyes,
Escape this camp for a little while
'Cause you were prankster boy, I was Ms. Goody-Two Shoes,
and Demeter warned, "stay away from my daughter,"
But you were everything to me, I was begging you please don't go,"
And I said,
"Travis, save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel,
I know I'm harsh sometimes, but my love's real,
Don't be upset, we'll make it out of this mess,
It's a Tratie story, baby just say yes"
You fell over unconscious
After one of your pranks had gone terribly wrong
I sat next to you waiting,
But after three weeks, I started to frown,
And I said,
"Travis, wake up if you have more nectar you'll explode,
I'm starting to think that you're dead and not just knocked out cold,
I'm going insane from waiting, am I hallucinating?"
You opened your eyes and sat up in bed and said,
"Katie, forgive me, I was only pranking you.
I wanted to see if your love for me was really true.
Now why don't you follow me, my cabin should be empty,
It's a Tratie story, baby just say, yes."
'Cause we were both young when I first saw you…

Creativity ~ 8 Definitely creative. Song was not something I'd thought of.

Vocabulary ~ 7 Well considering it's a song, it makes it a bit difficult, but I decided on this.

Sentence Variety ~ 6 Again, it's a parody.

Character Development ~ 3 I didn't really see characters properly.

Action ~ 5 Um.....

Final Comments ~ Again, not something I'd thought of. Pretty cool. But it is a tad harder to grade. You scored a 29!

Contestant 4

   Brambleclaw froze in the undergrowth; his neck fur bristling and his ears trying to catch any sound. As he opened his jaws to drink in the scent nearby, he noticed a familiar, unwanted smell. ShadowClan. He was far from the ShadowClan border, so the scent must have come from an intruder. He crouched low behind the leaves, staying as still as possible with all of his senses on high alert. Whoever the intruding cat (or cats, he thought warily) was, he or she had obviously masked the scent, but not well enough. There was enough scent for Brambleclaw to sense the rank of ShadowClan beneath fox-dung and mud. Although he longed to pounce on whichever cat had dared to cross ThunderClan territory, he didn't know how many cats there were, and whether there were any cats from his own Clan near enough to come help him, if he needed it. Finally, after a tense wait, Brambleclaw thought he saw a paw show for a second, behind some bracken a few tail-lengths off. He saw a flash of mud-tinged orange-Russetfur? This cat was obviously careful enough to scent the air, too-and this cat also scented Brambleclaw. He heard a voice so low, he nearly fell over trying to listen. He caught "ThunderClan alert...ready to attack." Ready to attack?  Brambleclaw tensed his muscles, even though he knew he couldn't leap to the ferns where he had heard the voice-which was probably Russetfur's, but he couldn't tell exactly.

Creativity ~ 8 It resembles Warriors, definitely, yet retains the place for other happenings. Pretty cool.

Vocabulary ~ 9 That's like as good as mine! Good job!

Sentence Variety ~ 8 Pretty good, only suggestion is try to lean away from nouns a bit more.

Character Development ~ 7 It definitely captured the Warrior angle, but maybe try to include a little more of Bramble's personality?

Action ~ 9 Pretty good!

Final Comments ~ It was great! It captures a memorable scene in this type of life. Some suggestions could be to separate it into multiple paragraphs, it's a little confusing like this. It was extremely good for your age! You scored a total of 41!

Contestant 5

Tame the bird’ he said to me,
a falcon in his hand.
But freedom can't be tamed, can it?
It's lakes and mountains, wind and sand.

But this bird had been wild, feral,
It not wanted to be tame.
It wanted open skies, and starry nights
and to be as wild as the flame.

‘But father, I cannot tame this!
It bites and scratches and beats it’s wings!’
But he wouldn’t hear a word of protest,
No matter how much my cuts would sting.

So up I stayed, with this bird,
food for the heart, music for the soul.
And slowly, slowly, ever slowly,
we stopped fighting for control.

Every day we spent together,
in fields of beauty my bird did fly.
I trusted him, he trusted me,
we finally saw eye to eye.

I proudly took him to my father,
certain that he would be pleased.
I held my bird aloft with joy
It cared for it, it cared for me.

But instead of being happy, joyous,
he glared in my direction.
‘This bird has not been tamed’ he said
‘This is a bird that has been broken’

Before I could make a move to stop him,
The dove was gone from my hands.
Neck broken, tossed to the floor,
this was all that was left of my friend.

‘Do it right next time’ He said
with not an ounce of sympathy.
Then he turned and walked away
and there was no comfort left for me.

Creativity ~ 8 That was awesome! But it seemed a bit too similar to how it was phrased in the book.

Vocabulary ~ 8 Doesn't use big words, but you used them well enough so it seems like it!

Sentence Variety ~ 9 It rhymes! It's really good! Flows really well!

Character Development ~ 9 Wow. You completely made me understand the natures of the characters. Good job!

Action ~ 9 It really kept me interested! Good job!

Final Comments ~ WHOA. I absolutely cannot write poetry, and this blew my mind. Keep it up! Your score is 43.

Our winner this round is...CONTESTANT 2!

Congrats! But will you be able to keep it up for four more rounds?

I have decided not to do disqualifications for this round, since it was the first one, merely a trial. Now that you know how it works, you have another chance to wow me and stay in!

Thinking about a new prompt was trouble. But I finally came up with something. It is...

PROMPT: Fight scene

Remember, it isn't fan fiction any more. So you need to come up with an original fight scene! Good luck!

Friday, February 10, 2012

A Little Something

 Celadon Quickwrite!

  A shriek escaped Fawn's lips, her heart pounding inside. Her desperate attempt to stay unnoticed foiled, she slid into the shadows next to her, resisting the urge to run forward, to take that sword out of his heart. She could see his still moving chest, though with each breath he took, it grew fainter, and slower.
  A man stood above him, eying him with disdain. "He couldn't even hold off on me," he snarled viciously. "And he wanted to fight Ergard?" His tone sounded incredulous, and by his expression,  Fawn could understand he was wondering what to do with the body that lay before him. Recovering herself, she tried to make a move to escape but stood frozen at the sound of his voice. "I know you're there, girl. Come out, and I may spare his life. He isn't dead yet."
  Worry gripped Fawn like a talon. Unsure of whether she could trust him, she hesitated, then sighed and stepped out to face him.
  He was tall. And good-looking, she admitted. But one glance at Char's dying body brought her back to herself. "Who are you?" she hissed. "You work for Ergrard?"
  "Yes," he replied with distaste. "Though not for long. And you, my young girl, are now imprisoned by me."
   A bitter laugh echoed from her throat. "What?" she asked, hoping her fear wouldn't seep through her act of confidence.
  "You are now my prisoner," he repeated, flashing a small grin at her. His prominent cheekbones moved slightly with the motion. "Unless you would like me to kill you too," he added, his foreboding words not matching the casual tone and lightheartedness on his face.
  "And...him?" Fawn dared to ask, her eyes flickering to the almost still body of Char. She couldn't even see his chest move anymore, but her connection with his through their minds told her that he was still fairly conscious.
  A laugh. "Silly girl. You actually thought I'd spare him?" After a moment's hesitation, he walked over to Char and beckoned her to stand by him. Against all sense, Fawn followed. She could almost hear Char's voice in her head, telling her to stop, stop doing it for him. But I'm not doing it for you, she replied, pretending he could actually hear. I'm doing it for me. 
  As she stood over him, trying to to look at the handle protruding from his chest, the man spoke. "Why do you want me to save him?" he asked, a knowing smile playing at his lips.
  Hatred burned through her like a raging fire. "I wouldn't ask that," she spat, recognition finally occurring to her, "if I were you, Elsay."
  Elsay staggered back as if she had attacked him. Then, recovering his composure, he place his hand delicately on the hilt of the sword. "Shall I?" he asked slyly.
  Before Fawn could reply, a voice sounded in her head, sounding hoarse and ragged.
  Char! You're alive, she replied to Char, glanicing down. His eyes were open now, though dull with pain.
  Look. Don't try to help me. There's nothing you can do. Just get out of here. An urgency filled his thoughts. Please.
  Please. If you get hurt....
  His voice trailed off. After another moment of silence, she saw his eyelids droop, covering his eyes. Fawn looked back at Elsay, who was watching her expectantly. When she only glared at him, she watched as he pushed the handle down further into Char. The presence she'd felt of him before abruptly vanished.
  Elsay still stared at her. Without another word, she turned and fled.

Thursday, February 9, 2012


By midnight tonight, I will have all your writing entries! Remember, this is my email. Send it here!

Good luck. ;) And if you have any suggestions for next week's writing prompt, tell me! I'm currently looking for something hard enough on people.

If anyone needs help in fan fiction, then check out my pages: Snowy Forest and A Lost Friend. They Are fan fictions of the series Warriors, and the classic movies, Star Wars. I'm also wondering if I should do a FF for The Mortal Instruments. It's been on my mind lately.  Tell me if you think it would be interesting. :)

That's all for now, keep a look out for forbidden words! You could earn a prize!

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


Just a friendly reminder. All entries due TOMORROW by midnight! Good luck! The ones I've recieved so far are really good. Try to wow me!


P.S. I am a very harsh grader. I wish you best of luck getting a good grade from me. Mwahahahaha.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Competition Rubric

I hadn't thought of this until now, so sorry I am posting this so late. I hope I manage to post before I recieve any entries.

I will be grading on scales of 1-10 on the following.

Creativity ~ Whereas this week's prompt is a fan fiction, I don't want exact copies of what happened in it. Expect maybe with different names. If you do so, then do not expect the full ten points for this.

Vocabulary ~ Is an explanation needed?

Sentence Variety ~ Try starting sentences in different ways, not always with a noun. I happen to be terrible at this.

Character Development ~ Is the personality clear? Or is it hazy, and unclear where their loyalties lie? Does it represent the same character from which the piece was derived?

Action ~ Does it keep me captivated? Or does it bore me to death? Well, probably not that extreme....

That's it. In all, there will be fifty points. Anyone who does not reach at least 25 will be disqualified and not permitted to compete in the next round. You can still send me something for fun, and I'll score it, but it won't be counted. Also, if you are the person with the least points, you will be cut. Good luck!

Again, my email. Send here:

Poll Results

I must announce that I am displeased about the results of this poll. Tell me, how many of you who voted actually knew who Char and Fawn were? Did you realize that they are characters in a story I am writing? Next time you vote on something like this...make sure you have read what it is based on first. If you would now like to see what this poll derived from, then click on Celadon. It is my current work in progress.

Now, for the results.

Fawn ~ WINNER ~ 9 votes
Char ~ My BF (JK!) ~ 7 votes

Also, as a reminder, the entries are due on Thursday, in only three more days! I look forward to reading all your writing pieces!

Sunday, February 5, 2012

4 More Days!

Just saying, you have just four more days until your entries for my competition are due. On the 9th, I want them. Send me your fan fictions fast!

And also, for further elaboration, each writing piece will be a week. I want your writing by five days after it is assigned, so I will have two days to read them all, score them all, then come up with a new topic. That's only fair, right?

So, remember the date! The 9th!

For new people, check out the competition details in the post below.

Oh, and email your pieces here:

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Competition Time!

I know. I am not an extremely experienced writer. However, maybe reading others' pieces, and grading them, will make me more experienced.

Now. For my competition, I will give you a prompt. It could be related to anything on my blog, or a topic completely random. Or maybe I won't give a prompt. Right now I will, though.

I want your writing piece back in five days. Then, I will give you a score based on the scale from one to ten. Then I will assign a new prompt, and I will collect it in another five days. When we finish, I will then calculate the total number of points, and announce a winner.

If you wish to enter, please comment either in this post, the Cbox, or contact me personally. I will provide my email address below.

I am thinking about five assignments will take course in this competition. Beware, as we proceed further into it, the prompts will be more difficult.

As for the prizes, I am allowing any of the prize list in one of my previous posts. Or, you can ask something personally, and I am always accepting ideas. However I would say the main prize would be to have your own writing published on this blog. I shall go into further detail, when we have a winner.

So start sending in your entries, and I will give you your first assignment.

PROMPT: Fan Fiction. Any fan fiction. As long as I have read/watched whatever it is based on. Ask me before beginning.

Good luck!

Friday, February 3, 2012

The Book Thief

"I am haunted by humans."

The last line of the book. The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak, is a slightly strange but eventful World War II novel featuring a young German girl.

The girl, Liesel, lived through the war, though the rest of the people on her street died from an air raid. Out of sheer luck. However, that is the end of the book. In the beginning, Liesel is with her mom, a Communist, and her brother, who dies. The story is narrated by Death himself.

Liesel's mother leaves her, Death explains. She is afraid of having Liesel hurt after she dies. So she goes to a German foster family, one who opposes Hitler, but doesn't take action against him. She makes friends with a boy named Rudy, who wants to kiss her all of his life but she never let's him.

The Book Thief is about her life, from hiding a Jew in her basement, to him being the last friend she ever has. She steals in a gang with Rudy, steals books from the Mayor's wife's library, and shares words with Max, the Jew.

During air raids, when everyone is hiding out in the bomb shelters, and panicking, Liesel acts without thinking. She takes out her latest book and starts reading it out loud, which pacifies everyone. Then, during one unexpected air raid, while Liesel is safely in the basement, reading and editing the story she had written, everyone dies. The bomb crashes directly on Himmel Street while everyone is asleep, and Liesel is the sole survivor.

When she escapes from the basement and sees all her friend's and family's dead bodies, she cries. And she finally plants the kiss Rudy had been wanting on dead lips.

It's an interesting book, if you're the type who likes reading unusual and unique styles of writing. I only read it for a school assignment, but it was worth the read.