My Disloyal Followers

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.

2 comments:

Optimistic4ever said...

AGGGH! WHY MUST THE NEXT PROMPT BE MY GREATEST WEAKNESS?

I shall try, I shall.

The force has always been with me. ;)

Fira Marine said...

Lol kay. :D