RPG Role-Playing Writing - Round 3

[Mnemolth]

[b][color=red]STOP! Please read the following before you do ANYTHING in this thread!![/color][/b]

[b]One shall fall...[/b]

There are just a few very simple rules to ensure everything runs smoothly. Please abide by them. Good luck everyone! :)


[i]For non-players:[/i]

1. If you are not one of the registered players, DO NOT post here. Period. If you wish to make a comment, laud praise or offer some criticism, please do so at the [url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=19444][color=blue][/color]RPW General Thread[/url].

2. In an ideal world, I would ask that you read each story by each player BEFORE voting in the poll. But I understand this is not an ideal world so I would strongly you read at least a few stories before making you decision and to NEVER vote for someone before you have read their story! Please extend the players, who have spent time and effort in crafting their submissions, this small courtesy. ;)

3. Vote for the person whose story you like the most. You have until [b][i]midnight, Monday, 10th March, AEST time, ie GMT +10:00 hrs[/b][/i].

Thanks for dropping by. Everyone at RPW appreciates your support. :D


[i]For the players:[/i]

Round 3 is now open for submissions. Its a BIG Round. Be sure to start thinking about straight away. [b][i]The deadline is midnight, Friday, 7th March, AEST time, ie GMT +10:00 hrs. This will be STRICTLY enforced.[/i][/b]

The Objectives for Round 3, if you did not check the RPW website and know already, is [url=http://users.tpg.com.au/jackly/rpw/Stories/objectives.html][color=blue]here[/color][/url]. Read it carefully. If you have questions or queries, post them in the [url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=19444][color=blue]RPW General Thread[/color][/url]. It may be other players are also unsure. If you're a little shy, or if its personal, email or PM me.

I have taken the time to write up some tips for playing RPW. Read the [url=http://users.tpg.com.au/jackly/rpw/faq.html][color=blue]FAQ[/color][/url].

Please, PLEASE, ask questions. Even if its just to confirm some things. Don't write 3000 words of brilliant prose only to have it scraped cos it didn't fit with the Objectives or were outside the rules. I really hate having to send submission back to have players edit them. Chances are players will often be too disappointed to make the necessary changes or do not have enough time. In any case, that just robs us of a submission and we need every single one.

[Mitch]

[color=red] I changed a few things. I still might even change more, but this is pretty much the final here.

[size=1]The night paddled and puddled all about Jice. He looked keenly at the familiar surroundings, breathed in deeply the wondrously fresh air. He had been here before. The same path, the same surroundings. It was like pure nostalgia walking along the path for him as he strode in his hearty walk stopping to peer at the beautiful forests, the wholly twinkling black-bottomed sky. This is where he belonged; this was where he had always belonged. The smooth and blissful wonders of nature.

The leaves blowing in the wind's wonderful arms. Trees swaying and shrieking as the sun shown a fiery light all above and yonder throughout the twitting and twattering of birds. This was where he belonged. This was him. It was all a beautiful thing to him?the very laws and ways of nature. Even the small snap of a twig, the small hearty chirping of a bird. He loved every part of it.

And here he was yet again, on his way to Aiken. Aiken had always been one of his favorite places to visit. It was a medium thatched town, purely and mostly a quiet farming community. But it was a great and refreshing place for Jice. He'd stopped and played many a tune on his sullen harp, he'd wrote many wonderfully serene ballads of pristine prose. There in Aiken, he could lie back, the wind blowing through his jet-black hair as he gazed up at the blue sky. It was very peaceful being in Aiken, and Jice had decided upon taking such a quiet landing for a while.

So here he trod, walking and walking as he neared his destination. He was in no rush. He had been traveling rather slow, stopping and aweing at a stray animal he might come across, a stray age-old tree. He certainly was in no rush and nor had he ever had much need to rush. This time was his time. Purely and intently, this was his time. The road would lead him on, but it certainly would never stop him from spending a nice nap here or there, or stopping to write about some blissful occurrence. Or to even possibly let his thoughts wonder on some reclusiveness of adverted thought through some trek into strong-feelinged emotions. This, through and thick, was his time.

And just in the nightly distance he could see Aiken a shadowy silhouette in the cold, steel talons of the night's eye. He stopped his mechanical walk and strayed an observant look at Aiken. Here and there he could see momentary flickers of light and shadows. In other areas he could see dots and spots of lights echoing and refracting all about the meagerly quiet town. Yet all about his keen sense of nature could smell something. A slight hint. His eyes turned intent as he looked upon the stray town. His mind tried to pin what it was he sensed so vaguely, but he couldn't edge it into his mind. It only gargled and grasped at him whispering so sullenly and low into his ear. Something was wrong it said intently into his logic, yet that something was so very far away from his view. Something was wrong.

His eyes frolicked and danced around the town for moments longer, and he then turned his head to the sky. The once clear, star-sprinkled sky was now covered in a blanket of dark and deep clouds. Through this all Jice could just barely partake the luminescent moon glimmering slight in the backdrop of the imbued sky. He then sensed another thing: it was going to rain. He could not only sense it, but he could also feel it. The air was ripe and opaque with a hot and heavy feeling of iron-weighted humidity. Jice's eyes fell from the grim-ridden sky and he began setting on his way again, walking faster and more brisk than before. He now was almost in a slow-paced jog as he walked. Maybe this wasn't his time his mind reverberated fluently at him. Maybe it wasn't. Something was amiss, everything opulently and so validly pointed so.

By the time he had come to Aiken's frontal walls, it had done just as he had foreseen. Rain. It was not just rain, but more and even higher, it was pouring and pouring in almost flinching waves. It was coming down so quickly and rapidly fast that Jice could barely even see, nor could he barely hear, anything. Luckily, he had a small oil lamp with him for such occasions as this. It brought him a mellow and slight light, but it was enough. As he walked and strayed to the gate, Jice saw a familiar shadow in a blur of rain and motion. He quickly caught up with the peculiar and seemingly remembering form wallowing about the rain.

"Stop!" Jice screamed as he neared in close proximity to the figure, "It is I, Edjice Mitchells."

The figure stopped, and peered at him with tired and narrow eyes. "Eh?" the figure said, surprised. It began padding closer to Jice, slowly and cautiously. "Who'd you say you are?"

"Edjice Mitchells," Jice said as the figure's face appeared finally through the rain and the darkness of the night. "Why...you are certainly a sight for sore eyes. You sure are."

He gave Jice a hearty smile. "Jice? Ah, it has been a long time, old friend. It sure has."

"Same to you, Mayor. I'm sure glad to see you. But...I sense something is wrong. It may just be an overrunning paranoia, but then again, it might not. Care to elaborate, Mayor?"

"Ah, cer?"

The Mayor was stopped in mid-sentence as a loud and sharp scream emanated from someplace quite nearby them. The Mayor uttered a surprised guttural noise and a wide-mouthed, scared gape. "Come, Mayor, the noise was over here," Jice said.

They came to some blandly standing houses to find many lone and traumatized figures standing about. The Mayor stopped and spoke. "What in the name of god happened here? What?"

A dark and purely malevolent figure stepped up and spoke, his shoulders crossed. "Hah, it was our fox. Too bad we missed most of it, quite too bad," the man said, turning and striking a stare at Jice, his eyebrows raised in a questioning matter. "Who the hell is this?" he asked, anger tinting his voice. "Is this our guy?"

"No, no, of course not, Lacroix. This, this here is an old friend. His name is Edjice Mitchells. Or just Jice," the Mayor said heartfully. There were some short-amounting gasps and wondering sighs. It seemed some of them had heard of Jice.

Lacroix uncrossed his arms. "And why should I care? We have more important things to worry about right now. Calonice is missing."

The Mayor fell some back, startled. Jice even let out a slight grimace. "Calonice? Calonice, the Rosary Knight?" Jice asked, surprise and grim grays both edging a biting nip in his voice.

"Yes, the Rosary Knight," a solitary figure said from the shadows. "Come all, we must go to where we last lost track of her." Upon this calling, the party left, meandering off into the many back-paths of the forest some ways away from the gate. The figure leading them stopped, unfurling a long ashen bow. 'We are very near," he said, glimmering about the surroundings.

They had come to a many intersecting path of age-old trees, bushes, and other fauna and vegetation. Their search was quite long carried out with the rain still coming down in almost as fast a pour as earlier. Jice and a few of the others of the party had split up with him to search one certain edge of the forest's paths. And as they searched and searched, Jice looked keenly about, using his in-tuneness with nature to get a nice and viewful perspective.

As he peered, something caught the side of his eyes. It was just a far away glint, but he quickly focused on it. Jice began running towards the shimmer, the rest in his group following. The figure was gone in a quick and mist-aided flee. With the rain pouring down as hard as it was, Jice and the others could barely catch a view of the figure. All they saw was a blur of a shadow. Then nothing. Approaching where the figure once was, they came upon the body. "Over here!" Jice screamed, getting the others to gather.

It was a gory and quite killing sight to them all. Calonice lay on the green, rainwater-laden ground. Her armor was brutally marred, a large, red-sweltered hole laced and etched in the middle of her chest. Her face was not even recognizable; the skin had been clipped and clasped completely off. The skin on her arms had also been removed crudely, and blood lay sheltered and death-ringingly all about the ground. She looked purely and completely in utter pain and brutality.

Most of them looked away with just one sight of the bloody mess, others fell down and cried. They all felt this death; and they all fell and remembered it highly about their efferent and constantly reflective lives. And after they had had enough of this feeling incredulity and falteringly falling sight, they took her broken sword and hilt, placing it clasped in her bloodied hand, placing her hands and the sword's pieces squarely in the center of her chest. They then carried her body, wrapped in her various cloths, back to the walls. As the rain poured and poured, thunder began to boom ominously all about.

"There is not time for a proper burial now," the Mayor said reflectively and riledly. "We shall have it on tomorrow's dark But for now, you all must hurry and begin your investigations. My heart goes out to you all farther than any of you know. Now, kindly, go!"

They all nodded and approached the gate of the walls. All of their minds and thoughts were in another land, far, far, far away. They waited while the mayor spoke to the guards. Soon thereafter, the gates were briskly opened as the thunder continued to boom, as if trying to do some justice for Calonice's death. The rain, a cryptic following of the thunder, continued crying and tearing, pitying and injustice seemingly flowing from the clouds' bellowed tops.

Once within the town, they did not waste a second of time. Upon the mayor's advice, they first went to the Hampton family farm. Alex, the one whom had led them near to Calonice, kindly introduced himself to Jice on the way there, and pointed out a few of the others. Xii, Percy, and Tylenia were all pointed out. Jice kindly thanked him as they came to the immediate outskirts of the Hampton family farm.

Once there, they came to find a few of the Hamptons tired-eyed and awake, surveying and sipping cumberly from cups of coffee. One tall and sleek Hampton peered out at them groggily and wet. The other, short and fat, continued sipping from his steaming cup of coffee, acting as if Jice and the others were not even there. Xii

"What exactly happened here?" Xii asked.

"We ain't exactly sure," Gert Hampton, the tall farmer, notioned. "All's we's know is sumt'in' came o'er 'ere, or sum'tin' close ta there, an' mutilated our livestock," he pointed over to some fallen shapes.

The short Hampton turned towards them, bringing out his hands. "Ah, Gurt, ya left sumt'in' out there me boy. They's or whatever the hell they are also did'em sumt'in' to our corn an' other crops, too," he also pointed to some far away shapes, motioning towards them.

Everyone nodded kindly and went to survey the mutilated livestock. Once there, Jice bent over, Xii next to him over his shoulder. Jice looked closely at the fallen cow. It was a red mess of blood. The cow's skin had also been partially cut off, leaving a bloody and brutal mess; either that, concluded Jice, or it had been eaten by some stray scavenger upon the cattle's death. Jice took his hand and put it into the cattle's large, open wound where the skin had been cut. He flinched. It was...warm. Xii turned to him, her face showing wonderingly in the thunder-flash ridden, rain-trodden night.

"What is it? Why'd you flinch?" she asked, turning her head in a questioning arc.

"It was nothing. The thunder scared me," Jice said, sounding as truthful as he could.

"Oh," Xii simply said, removing her head from the strange-arced position and returning to her examination.

Jice put his hand back in the wound, this time going deeper. He felt around for any internal organs through the hotness, and strangely, he found none. Quizzically, he took his hand out, trying to piece it together, but finding nothing. After some more examining and looking, they all stood up, deciding upon searching through the crops. Reaching the crops, they found fewer clues then with the livestock.

"With the rain coming down as fast as it is," Percy said, "we really can't take these destroyed crops for anything." Jice almost laughed at the man's strange and smooth accent. He hadn't expected it.

Xii turned toward Percy. "Well, with the rain coming down as fast as it is," she mocked, "maybe I might attune that the obvious is obvious. May I not, Perc'?"

Percy looked strangely at her. "Pardon? What was that, Xii?"

"Never mind," Xii said, half smiling. Jice heard someone snicker, and he elbowed Alex, asking Alex who it was.

"Relee," Alex whispered to Jice. "That's Relee."

Jice nodded, and they all then returned to the farmers. They were still standing, drinking their coffee. They said their dues and good-byes, giving them a wave as they turned and set off on their way. Just then, a farmer piped up.

"'Ey, you might go'n check out the tavern. There might be's some rumors for ya's to hear there that might help ya'll," said the short and fat farmer..

With that, they turned, leaving. Taking the farmer's advice, they set off towards the tavern. As they approached, the rain begun to slowly subside, and the thunder regressed into lightning. As they walked nearer to the tavern, Jice cupped out his hand, feeling the dropping humidity in the air. Yes, it was stopping.

Jice looked up at the sky, noticing a small patch through the clouds. He stopped walking, the others going a bit ahead of him, then stopping, questioning and tired looks upon their faces. Jice pointed at the opening in the clouds. There the sun shone just barely tipping over the bottom of the horizon. The color was a lovely and wonderful orange-red. Jice smiled, looking beautifully at the sunrise. The others looked dazzeledly at it as well. Jice continued to smile, a tear falling down his cold cheeks. Another tear fell. And another.

Jice took out his harp, his tears hitting the strings in a dull and sullen clang. He wiped his tears away with a swift wipe of his arm, and placed his hands on his harp slowly and masterfully. Sniffling and holding back his tears, he began to play a sad and sullen tune from the depths of his heart. Jice's eyes disappeared into his harp and emotion, letting the music carry and become him. The others looked wonderfully and serenely at Jice, some even crying themselves. Lacriox let out a guttural withdrawl and turned around, crossing his shoulders apathetically.

After some time, Jice's heart felt eased, and he stopped playing, some stray tears still pelting and shimming all over him. He looked at the rising sun, and peered a side-glanced rainbow through the going clouds. His eyes stayed focused and intent upon the rainbow and the sun as if somewhere far off.

"Come on, Jice, let's go," Xii said slowly and whisperingly. "Let's go."

The party started walking off, Jice following hesitantly behind as the orange-hued, brilliant sun shown them the way to the tavern.[/size][/color]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Well, after how ever long I just spent writing solidly, I must say I am somewhat disappointed with myself. This submission, to put it kindly, should be tarred and feathered.


[I]Lacroix immediately stepped forward, intending to follow them. He was restrained by a gentle hand, though cloaked in steel. The knight then. Lacroix turned, face expressionless.[/I]

Calonice: It would be wise to determine a plan of action. And even wiser to question the townsfolk as a group. You on your own may be somewhat ...intimidating.

[I]Lacroix was fairly sure it was meant as a compliment, and took it as such. His eyes danced with a dark amusement never the less.[/I]

"Question the townsfolk? I think not. Give me five minutes and I'll be out of here. I have no wish to bother myself with such petty annoyances." [I]His voice was quiet, but carried a curt note. He was obviously less than impressed with a few disappearances. At last, the knight in turn showed some emotion. A hard anger, left tightly controlled, entered the voice emanating outwards,[/I] "Have you no sympathy? These people need us. Even your shrivelled heart could not refuse them that. And even your sickening skills may be necessary."

[I]Lacroix smiled faintly, the most expressive gesture out of him yet. Even so, it was still a slight upturning of his lips.He nodded once, and leant back against the wall. The others argued for a moment, before standing as one. Lacroix lifted an eyebrow, and beckoned them out before him.

The night was chill. Stars decorated the sky, the familiar patterns comforting when set against the aura of fear permeating the small town. Lights flickered in windows, illuminating the occasional wary face. They walked quickly, casting around for signs of anything untowards. The village proper lay close ahead, but the road seemed harshly long. The trees around them cracked slightly, whipped back and forth despite the wind being gentle. Lacroix saw very little in their murky depths, and nothing overly bothered him. Despite that, his nerves were wound as tightly as lute strings.

Reaching the village, the makeshift gate was hurriedly opened, and even more hurriedly closed behind them. Small sounds drifted outwards, giving a final sense of familiarity.

The group moved slower now, the short walk's ominous overtone forgotten. The local tavern lay ahead, a beacon in the dark. Music flowed outwards, along with the first sounds of laughter they had heard. But it was cut off quickly, as if the laughter was afraid to let it hang in the air.

As the reached it, the group slowed even more, and peered in before entering. A whiteclad minstrel sat on a dais in one corner, patrons gathered around him. They seemed simple village folk. The minstrel, and older man, seemingly withered at this distance, looked something else. Lacroix surveyed the taproom again, before declining with a sharp headshake.[/I] "It would be best if I waited here. I think you would all be better equipped to get results when questioning that lot." Calonice looked at him sharply. Lacroix could have sworn it was in distrust. "I too, will wait with you. Should adversity crop up, you may need someone to watch your back". Lacroix's lip curled at that, but he agreed with a nod. The others walked inside.

Lacroix took up a position leaning against the doorframe, Calonice on the other side. The village was quiet if one ignored the tavern. Most likely the main population was inside, seeking refuge from the oppressing night. Rumours had a way of running rampant in places like this, and peasants were more susceptible to rumour than they were to the pox. And rumours tended to escalate wildly. Chances were, most people believed scores had been killed already, without stopping to think that the village didn't have that many people in it.

Lacroix looked over at Calonice, to find the knight regarding him in turn. Lacroix smiled again, sardonically, and tossed a small salute. A single touch to his forehead, before waving his hand off. The gesture betrayed amusement. And a slight contempt. Lacroix took a step away from the tavern, before gliding into a series of liquid motions known as [/I]kata[I], or a limbering exercise. He was a fluid creature, and well versed.[/I]

"Very impressive". [I]Lacroix jerked, the motion at odds with his previous grace. It was not Calonice who had spoken, but Xii.[/I]

"Now that you're finished, do you mind coming in? That minstrel is proving recalcitrant. He's muttering something about not being involved, and spouting quotes like he doesn't have a mind of his own."

"Crass intimidation eh?". [I]Lacroix stepped in, gliding over to where the minstrel sat. The others kept talking to their respective villagers. Lacroix sat beside the man, pulling out his flask of amontillado. He offered the man some. He took a long pull, before setting the vessel down.[/I]
"You have a good taste". [I]The voice was soft, a schooled storyteller's voice. Completely controlled. Lacroix acknowledged the compliment with a slight inclination of the head, and was about to say more, when a small sound reached his ears.

He leapt to his feet, spinning back to the door. He noted that Xii and Alex were also on their feet. With their forest bred hearing, they had also picked up the slight noise that had so troubled him. The others, noting something was, also rose, uncertainty on their faces.

The long legged ranger was the first to the door. He opened it with a slam. Lacroix, from behind him, had his view obscured, and could only look over his shoulder. And it seemed some midnight fog swirled away in that instant.

That one, shocked instant, before Alex stepped forward and retched. Lacroix stepped forward, and to the left, allowing the others to view what had so sickened the ranger. By the reactions he heard, Alex was not the only one with a queasy stomach.

To all appearances, Calonice had been simply torn apart. Armour and all.

.
Blood. Everywhere. The crimson droplets cloaked the surface for nearly a metre in all directions, and larger particles lay strewn around like child's toys, thrown with reckless abandon. The place seemed tinted, stained, desecrated. The violence in the air hung like a thick, poisonous fog, choking, clawing, scrabbling to get inside. To be released. It carried a charnel reek, of things decaying, festering, long dead and best left hidden from the light. Small things skittered around in the night, eager for the feast. Slightly larger creatures dared the light, and ambled in to sniff. Xii sent them crawling to safety with a wave of a torch.

Someone, Lacroix wasn't quite sure who, closed the door, shielding them from the villager's prying eyes. He wasn't paying attention. He was focused on the blood. The ruby droplets intoxicated him, as they sent small refractions out into the waiting gloom. His own blood sang in response, flowing through him with renewed vigor. His breathing quickened, almost imperceptibly, and his eyes widened. A bizarre, savage light danced through his pupils, like a cultist's wailing abandon during foul rituals. He looked up, noting the others were still fixated, though with a more sick visage, on the gruesome spectacle.

The minstrel however, was looking directly at him. Lacroix met his eyes, and slowly ran his serpentine tongue over his teeth. The seductive movement was ghastly. Jice shuddered and looked away. After an uncomfortable moments, he was driven to break the silence.[/I]

"What could have killed her this way?". His voice was shaken, wavering.There was a general mutter of consternation, an almost underhanded agreement that something was not right.

"She was not merely killed." Lacroix's answer was typically soft, but each word was driven like a hammer, "She was raped, violated on every level of her being. Her very self was riven from her and tormented, defiled, twisting into a diseased shadow in front of her eyes. This was, quite obviously, no natural killing." Alex stirred and looked at him sharply, shaking his head.
"I've seen brutal deaths before, some as bloody as this. What makes you think this is any different?". From his voice, it wasn't too obvious who he was trying to convince. Apparently, he was more willing to deal with a ravenous beast of some sort, than any esoteric force.
"Feel the air. It isn't natural", this from Percy. His voice was calm, collected, and only slightly unsteady, "You can taste the pain that hangs on the wind.".[I]Again, no one seemed willing to break the stigmatic silence. Lacroix turned and walked inside, leaving the others in the still night.

He pushed through the townsfolk, heading for the bar. The bartender was a short man, compact, and slightly balding. He was calmly engaged in the time-honoured action practiced by those of his profession, wiping clean a mug that one could already use for a shaving mirror. Bartenders were like that. He seemed unperturbed, and his first question was, of course, [/I]"What can I get you?".[I]Lacroix asked for wormwood, and to his surprise, actually received some. He sipped at it, noting the others had come back inside, and were proceeding to talk with the mayor and Acantha. They could wait.[/I]

"Bad", [I]Lacroix looked up, startled. The bartender leant over the counter on his elbows, asking in that discrete fashion that such people always know how to adopt.
[/I]"Bad enough.".[I]Lacroix's answer was just as quiet, and grim.[/I] "Whatever tore her apart wasn't just hungry. And certainly wasn't natural."

"The entire place is humming with death like a tightly wound lute. I'm surprised more people aren't outright terrified, not just nervous. And it's been this way since I got here. Partly what lead me to Aiken actually".[I]Lacroix looked at the man in surprise, taking a longer, more intense survey. The man reclined with the grace of a trained fighter. He smiled wryly, as if knowing what Lacroix was thinking, and said in a cryptic voice [/I]"We all settle down some day".[I]He looked as if he was about to say more, but a shout from Burman drew Lacroix over.[/I]

"I see you've met the reprehensible Dharin.",[I]The mayor's voice was profoundly disapproving.[/I], "He's been spouting nonsense about some 'gathering darkness' ever since he got here. I wouldn't be surprised if he was doing all this just to stop looking like a fool.". [I]Lacroix shook his head, wondering exactly how it was that some people could never except help from people they'd already formed opinions about. He reached out, digging his fingers into Burman's cheeks, and turning his head towards the door.[/I]
"So you think he did that, just because he doesn't come from this village, and happens to know what he is talking about!", [I]Lacroix's voice rose with the second part, the loudest it had been heard so far. Burman quavered, and tried to speak. Lacroix dug his fingers in harder, and twisted slightly. Burman slapped ineffectually. Lacroix ignored him, looking around.[/I]

"Our goodman Dharin here is an outsider, as I'm sure you've noticed. He also says he's been feeling a strange miasma hanging over this town for a while. Believe me, he knows what he's talking about."

"Then what do we suggest we do, apart from manhandling and assulting decent, upstanding members of a community who want nothing more than to help their people, even to the point of mistakingly trusting outsiders of questionable moral natures?". [I]Burman had wrenched his mouth free, and was rubbing it in the midst of his tirade. Lacroix gave a humourless laugh.[/I]
"Simple. We find out what the hell whatever is doing this wants."

"And how do we do that."

"Well, first, we need a comprehensive history of Aiken."

[I]Lacroix looked at Acantha expectantly. The others slowly did too. Even Burman quietened, albeitly sullenly, and payed attention. Dharin drifted over, ignoring the other patrons. Acantha took a long breath, and started to speak.[/font][/color][/I]

[Mnemolth]

Round 3 is now closed.

Remember LA and Sara both have two votes each.

Enjoy! :D

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Well, didn't that crawl into a hole and die? Not too sure whether I'm referring to my post, or the entire thing in general though...

Anyway, my vote goes to Mitch, due to my reprehensible effort.[/font][/color]

[Mnemolth]

Well I tried demmit!! I built a whole freaking website and everything....not my fault people on this Board don't seem to be appreciative. :p

I swear that really bugs me no end. Why is it that 'kids', and by that I mean mid-teenagers or thereabouts, on anime Boards, have such a low tolerance level for effort? I mean come on. If you ever want to do something you gotta put some backbone into it. And if you want to build a community, you need to lead an example. *sighs*

I hope that doesn't come across as agism. I guess I'm just pissed that this thing is dying (or dead), that's all.

I do have another, perhaps more palatable idea for OB, but I dunno whether I'll get that going now. I'm somewhat concerned about the administration of this Board, and also the appetite of its members for anything more substantial than little glib comments in posts.

Vote, and tell me what you think. :)

[Shy]

[size=1][glib]My vote goes to Mitch.[/glib]

The RPW is not dead. This round was less active than the previous ones, it is not a big deal. My schedule has been busy lately, so I was unable to turn in a submission. Next round I will put much more effort into my post. It is intimidating turning in a lazy post in a group full of such strong writers, so some people would prefer to have write nothing at all.

This is your decision, but it would be sad if you gave up on the RPW already. Your next project might be interesting, depending on what it actually is. You tend to keep things very vague Mnemolth.

-Shy[/size]

[Lady Asphyxia]

[size=1][color=darkred]Heh. First of all, RPW is not dead. Most of us are busy in the busiest sense of the word. I know I spent half my time on AIM complaining to you that I had to do my school work [Which I finally got done ^____^], and in the end, I didn't have time to do the RPW entry, considering how [i]huge[/i] it was this time. I got to the second paragraph and got writers block [as always >.<].

Secondly, go with the next writing thing. It's a good idea. Duh.

I'm way too lazy to go into all the detail and stuff for this round, because it's the weekend, I'm half asleep, and definately expecting there to be hundreds of typos in here. I'll post what I think later. For now, seeing as I have two votes and I pretty much like both stories equally, [b]I vote for both The Harlequin and Mitch.[/b][/size][/color]

[Sara]

[size=1]My votes go to Harlequin. I liked the general...flavor?..of his submission better. That's really the only reason.

*general agreement with Shy and Lady A*[/size]

[Juu]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Mnemolth [/i]
[B]Well I tried demmit!! I built a whole freaking website and everything....not my fault people on this Board don't seem to be appreciative. :p

I swear that really bugs me no end. Why is it that 'kids', and by that I mean mid-teenagers or thereabouts, on anime Boards, have such a low tolerance level for effort? I mean come on. If you ever want to do something you gotta put some backbone into it. And if you want to build a community, you need to lead an example. *sighs*

I hope that doesn't come across as agism. I guess I'm just pissed that this thing is dying (or dead), that's all.[/B][/QUOTE]

[color=ff00cc] [size=1]*curls up in corner*

My vote goes to Harlequin. I also liked the mood-setting in his post. ^_^'

Smitchy's was really good too. I enjoyed reading both of them. ^_^[/color] [/size]

[Mitch]

[color=red] There is no reason for not getting [i]something[/i] written this round. Writers write, that is what they do. If you are actually [i]serious[/i] about writing, you would've gotten this thing done. There's no excuse. If I can find time, so can you. Writers write even though they rarely can get the time. Writers write even if they get blocked. Even if they can't get inspired. They write.

So there is no excuse for not giving an entry, and nor is it fair to Harlequin and I who worked hard on ours. I spent about six hours alone on mine. I'm rather disappointed. If you're serious and you are or consider youself a writer you should, too.

My vote goes to mine. I spent a long time working on it.

As for Harlequin's, it was average. I did not see anything all too overally superb in it. But of course, he was rushed. Seeing that, it isn't too bad. But the way it was written was somewhat confusing in parts. Especially when he started using those question marks when whoever the hell was speaking. Stick to one format. Other than that, I'm glad he submitted [i]something[/i]. I right now consider RPW going nowhere. If no one posts, then it will stay that way. What do I have to say to scream into your ears to write something? I hope what I've said is enough, because I put a lot of work into this first foray into this thing. I think it's only fair that you all do, too. Just write, or I'll kill you.

Sound good?

Harly, seems you're the better writer or something. Ah well. I'll try even more next time, count on it.[/color]

[Juu]

[color=ff00cc] [size=1]Yeah, but there's a difference between just 'writing' and 'typing'.

Some of us might not have been able to get to a computer lately. And it's not like you can just grab a computer out from your backpack and start writing. --'

I had to go to Colorado for four days, then I had tons of tests and reports to make up for the schoolwork I missed. [/color] [/size]

[Mitch]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Juuthena [/i]
[B][color=ff00cc] [size=1]Yeah, but there's a difference between just 'writing' and 'typing'.

Some of us might not have been able to get to a computer lately. And it's not like you can just grab a computer out from your backpack and start writing. --'

I had to go to Colorado for four days, then I had tons of tests and reports to make up for the schoolwork I missed. [/color] [/size] [/B][/QUOTE]


[color=red] Juu, you know, I got to school, too. lol. I have tests, homework, the whole platter. And just because you went on vacation is an excuse, but it doesn't work, heh. There's always time to write. Always. Heck, I write in my head all of the time. I go over what I feel like writing. Just write something, something, something. Something. Get it?

I still find time to write. And you don't need a computer to write. Paper is better.[/color]

[Juu]

[color=ff00cc] [size=1]Yeah, but you have to get on the internet to post what you write, correct?

And, we're pretty packed with homework right now. STAR testing is in a few weeks, so they want us prepared. @.@;

(btw, sorry if that sounded rude in any way.)[/color] [/size]

[James]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Mitch [/i]
[B][color=red] Juu, you know, I got to school, too. lol. I have tests, homework, the whole platter. And just because you went on vacation is an excuse, but it doesn't work, heh. There's always time to write. Always. Heck, I write in my head all of the time. I go over what I feel like writing. Just write something, something, something. Something. Get it?

I still find time to write. And you don't need a computer to write. Paper is better.[/color] [/B][/QUOTE]

[color=#808080]Don't be too harsh on people if they fail to participate. Juu is right; sometimes you don't have the time to write. You might have a mental block, or you might simply want to do something [i]other[/i] than writing with your spare time. It's understandable.

I always feel that if I'm pressured or forced to write something for an RPG, I'm not really enjoying it...and thus, the writing isn't really what I want it to be. It's fair that people only want to write if they are feeling passionate or if they have ideas. Not everyone is spending all their free time writing, so I don't think it's too unreasonable for people to have other commitments. ~_^[/color]

[Mitch]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by James [/i]
[B][color=#808080]Don't be too harsh on people if they fail to participate. Juu is right; sometimes you don't have the time to write. You might have a mental block, or you might simply want to do something [i]other[/i] than writing with your spare time. It's understandable.

I always feel that if I'm pressured or forced to write something for an RPG, I'm not really enjoying it...and thus, the writing isn't really what I want it to be. It's fair that people only want to write if they are feeling passionate or if they have ideas. Not everyone is spending all their free time writing, so I don't think it's too unreasonable for people to have other commitments. ~_^[/color] [/B][/QUOTE]

[color=red] Jamesy, I'm not being harsh. But if anyone here really wants to be a writer, you have to outdo yourself and go the extra yard. The blank page won't get anywhere unless you take your hand and paint the picture.

I can understand that people live busy lives. But this thing to me is dead serious. These people here joined because they have [i]something[/i] with writing. They like it in one way or another. Thus, this is serious for me. If it is for them, they would've written something even if it was completely bad, heh. I didn't say they had to do some magic, awesome, witty tale.

I'm just disappointed they didn't submit [i]something[/i]. I'm not meaning to be harsh, but this thing is dead serious to me. Writing is dead serious to me. It's everything I am and more.[/color]

[Mnemolth]

Whoa... finally a lively debate in RPW!! :)

This is gonna be one of my longer posts because I have to do a few things and I don't want to double post. So bear with me, since some of the things I have to say are pretty important.

One, let's all calm down and take a step back shall we? Hostilities between oursleves does no one any good. RPW is a collaborative effort. We all need each other for this to work.

Two, I must apologise to you Juu if I've offended you by my harsh words. You must try to understand the situation from my perspective. I'm trying to do something here Juu beyond the normal RPG. I'm trying to build something worthwhile, something all of us can look back on with a sense of satisfaction. I hope you would have noticed that RPW is like no other RPG, at least certainly none that I can see in this forum. In some respects, its a writing workshop. A place for those who have a penchant for writing to gather, to discuss, to be challenged and to show off their respective skills. A fellowship of writers that not only compete against one another, but review one another's work and help each other out. A collection greater than the sum of its parts.

Three, it is an ambitious goal, yet one I feel well worth pursuing. I had hoped the OB community would have given RPW more support. Alas, that is not the case. However, we still have a chance to make this work. You guys should get to know one another better, discuss and talk more about the objectives and ideas and what not. You can use the [url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=19444]RPW - General Thread[/url] cos that's what it was made for, but by PM, ICQ or AIM Chats or anything else is fine.

Four, my disappointments are on several levels, not just the lack of submissions, but that kinda summed it all up. There's the fact that, basically, no one uses the General Thread anymore, or contact me to ask me about stuff. There is no sign of any 'life'. My vision for RPW is that it is an [i]collaborative and interactive[/i] process. You feed off each other. As writers do in the 'real' world do. RPW should be 'alive', with comments on objectives, submissions, etc. It should be a living and breathing organism, not an inanimate object consigned to some dungeon to be released into the daylight once a few weeks.

Five, I know I ask a lot from you. But this should not come as any great surprise. If you look at the recruitment thread or even at the RPW website, its obvious this thing requires a certain level of focus. Honestly, I can tell you right now, if you were to average out around the hr/wk time in my proposal (based on the average submission taking 2 or 3 hrs) I would be happy. But I'm not sure that is happening at the moment.

Six, ultimately, James is right. Its all about the passion. Writers should be passionate. About the life around them and their craft. But, respectfully, I'd have to disagree about the influence or compulsion. I know I nag you guys to get your submissions in, but I really should not have to. All of you should already feel obliged to turn in something. Its a duty that you owe each other. You are all here voluntarily. You have taken upon yourself certain responsibilities, and it should be expected that you live up to them. And at the end of the day, am I really asking for all [i]that[/i] much? An average of an hour a week is roughly equivalent to 4 hrs a month. Think about that. Four hrs a month. It doesn't add up to all that much really. And so if you can't spare that degree of time, then I can only surmise that RPW is some very very small thing to you, so very small that you can't even see it, and so have no respect for it. And that's a shame.

I personally believe that compulsion [i]can[/i] be a good thing. Sometimes if we were completely and utterly left to our devices, if nothing was expected of us, if we were free to do any and everything we want, or not to do them, then we would get nowhere. I know from my own experience that there has been many a time when I did not want to write something, an essay, a story, a poem, but I was compelled to do so by a sense of obligation (ie due dates for assignments, a poem I promised for a birthday, etc). And yet, once I got started, I greatly enjoyed the experience, and the result was both satisfying and rewarding. So feel compelled, feel obligated, feel a sense of duty to your fellow writers in this project. And turn something in.

Seven, its hard to believe sometimes, but I [i]do[/i] know what I'm doing. :) There are reasons the rules are as they are, there are reasons why I've chosen this particular bunch of people. I [i]am[/i] up to something. You all are different people from different backgrounds with differing writing styles. That's why I've brought you here together. To share and learn from one another. Not to castigate, denounce or flatter but to [i]share[/i]. Share yourself so that we can all learn from your knowledge and experience about the craft and the art of writing. If, in the process, we happen to see a small part of yur soul, do not be afraid. Because every good writer leaves a part of themselves in their work. So keep your ego in check, keep your mind open, and keep the ink flowing.

Eight, I will continue with RPW, regardless of whether I start another project or not. There are seven of you. The number is small enough for everyone to be involved, and large enough to be varied. I hope you read this and take it to heart. It is, in a sense, my vision statement for RPW. Other RPGs are easier to play, perhaps more fun to do, but this experience is unique. Enjoy it and cherish it, or like everything else that is forgotten, it will wither and die.


[b]Round 3[/b]

Mitch (Shyguy, Mitch, Harlequinn, LA)
Harlequinn (Sara(2), Juuthena, LA)

So guess what?? Its yet [i]another[/i] tie! :)

Once again its up to me to rule. Can I just say I really hate it when you guys do this to me? :bawl:

[i]Mitch[/i]: Your story clearly shows you've put some work into it. The descriptions are quite good. But you need to work on the rhythm of your prose. It doesn't flow as it should, which can annoy the the reader quite a bit. And you over-describe. Too many adverbs and adjectives. Try to keep it simple. Or if you're going to have a long description, punch it with a short sentence afterwards. And somethings are just wrong, for example, "Through this all Jice could just barely partake the luminescent moon glimmering slight in the backdrop of the imbued sky." "Just" and "barely", choose one, you can't have both.

But as a first submission, it is encouraging.

[i]Harlequinn[/i]: Your prose is well structured, you demonstrate a good grasp of English and your ability to tell a story is well founded. There are problems with your style though. I know you like to keep the reader at a distance, much like people IRL I suppose, but just like IRL, if you keep the reader too far away, you'll just end up losing them. And you really don't want to do that. You might debate this point, saying that writing is about individuality and so indulgences are to be encouraged, not discounted. But writing is also about discipline. So you should curb your indulgences. Don't lose your style, but [i]do[/i] try to lose the excess.

Another more salient point in respect of RPW specifically is the interaction with the other players. Understand that this is a story with an ensemble cast, not a story with a star and a group of supporting actors.

But otherwise, it was a very good submission. Fearful and frightening. A touch of the macabre.

(What was with those question marks tho? I must be stupid in my old age but I didn't get them.)

My decision goes to Harlequinn.

This was very hard to do, and I despise you all for making me do it! :p

Sorry Mitch, just trying to be fair. I would much rather you won the round. For one thing you didn't try to take partial control over the next round like Harlequinn did with that cliffhanger ending. *smiles and winks at Flynn*... really... you should stick to protocol dude. ;) For another, if you'd won, you, Harlequinn, Sara and LA would be sitting on Scribe status and with 2 votes. It would have made things very interesting indeed. But as it is Harlequinn wins the Round (10XPs) and the popularity poll as well (5XPs with only 1 vote! Let that be a lesson to all of you! :D) and gets a massive 17XP increase to outstrip everyone, skip the Scribe level altogether and leap frog to Anecdotist, and now holds 3 mighty votes!! :p

But in my opinion, for what its worth, it was better written. So congratulations Harlequinn! :)

Harlequinn: 6 + 17XPs = 23XPs
Mitch: 2XPs.

Round 4 objectives will be released before the weekend, and the website updated accordingly.

PS: Mitch, having read your last post, I know how important writing is to you. But this is not so with every writer. You have to respect their position, just as you want them to respect your position. So calm down okay? :D

I understand how people can sometimes not make a submission. But to get two entries from a player list of seven? Especially in a critical round like this one? I hope all of you can understand why I might feel somewhat let down. I'm not asking people to devote huge chunks of their time to RPW. I would just like them to make available 1 or 2 hours a week for it. I don't really think its all that much of a burden. I bear no grudges and I lay no blame. I just wish for more.

[Mitch]

[color=red] I go with everything Mnem said, heh. Good job Harly. :)

Geh, and Mnem, I do suppose I over-did the description. But I love that sentence. The just and barely, I mean, gah, lol. I'll work on making it flow better, and thank you for comments. It means a lot.[/color]

[James]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Mitch [/i]
[B][color=red] Jamesy, I'm not being harsh. But if anyone here really wants to be a writer, you have to outdo yourself and go the extra yard. The blank page won't get anywhere unless you take your hand and paint the picture.

I can understand that people live busy lives. But this thing to me is dead serious. These people here joined because they have [i]something[/i] with writing. They like it in one way or another. Thus, this is serious for me. If it is for them, they would've written something even if it was completely bad, heh. I didn't say they had to do some magic, awesome, witty tale.

I'm just disappointed they didn't submit [i]something[/i]. I'm not meaning to be harsh, but this thing is dead serious to me. Writing is dead serious to me. It's everything I am and more.[/color] [/B][/QUOTE]

[color=#808080]I understand where you're coming from. And I agree from my own perspective; when I start an RPG, I [i]expect[/i] people to remain committed and dedicated. And I usually point that out before the RPG commences.

In that regard, both you and Mnemolth are exactly right. Mnemolth did state what he expected to see initially -- so people were joining with knowledge of what was expected.

[i]However[/i], we have to realize that this is a give and take situation. Not everyone, as I said, is as committed to writing as you are, Mitch. And not everyone necessarily [i]has[/i] to be ultra-committed in order to have fun. And let's face it, that's what this forum is about; fun and creativity.

It's worthless to scold people to get angry if they have other commitments. Often, that can't be helped. And as I said, no matter how much of a writer you think you are, you're not always going to have the creative juices flowing. Even the greatest writers come across stumbling blocks at some point.

From my own experience, I know that it's no fun to write if there is pressure put on you. Sure, people [i]have[/i] joined with an understanding (and an agreement) of what was required. But just as they are willing to invest their personal time to build the story, it's up to the membership at large to provide at least some leeway for the natural time consuming occurrances in people's lives.

I know that I can't necessarily be sitting here all day dreaming up stories for RPGs -- it's unfortunate and sometimes annoying. But by the same token, you don't have to give up everything else in your life in order to be a great writer. I can tell you from experience (having already had articles regularly published in national magazines), that there are many other pressures that can take up your time. It's far less enjoyable to write when you have that pressure on you from your peers.

But, certainly, I do accept your point of view on the issue. I'd feel the same if it were my RPG -- it's not nice to be "left out in the cold", so to speak. So I understand you and Mnemolth. You have very reasonable feelings.

I guess I'm just emphasizing that we shouldn't take things [i]too[/i] seriously with other members on issues like this. Everyone is different and everyone has different circumstances and passions. For you, it might be worthwhile to sit there all day and come up with stories etc...

But for others, they might need to get all their homework out of the way before they can let go and be creative. It's all down to the individual. As a creative person, I'd have thought that you would understand that by default. ^_^[/color]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]*Rereads own submission. Starts cursing*. To answer the question about the question marks... Well, I typed it out, proof read it and all, whatnot, then saved it in Open Office, with the annoying format they use. I intended to post it immediately, but the power started flickering, so I had to post in a hurry. It went out once, came on for again, with just enough time for me to reconnect, reopen the document, and post it. Unfortunately, it went out again then, so I didn't have time to reread it. The question marks were some kind of wierd formatting error due to the fact that Open Office automatically saves in .sxw format, but opens in some other text format, that I've yet to be able to determine, because the stupid thing won't tell me.

Really, really not happy about that. Even less happy about Quark Xpress not working...[/font][/color]

[Mitch]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by James [/i]
[B][color=#808080]

But for others, they might need to get all their homework out of the way before they can let go and be creative. It's all down to the individual. As a creative person, I'd have thought that you would understand that by default. ^_^[/color] [/B][/QUOTE]

[color=red] Exactly right. I as a writer, though, I want all of the experience I can get--so this is the way I handle it. I try to write everyday. But you are exactly right.

As I said, my post came off much more harsh than I intended. I was just disappointed that only one other person than me submitted. It doesn't take that much out of a month to type up a 2,000 wordish story. Yes, I understand that everyone here is busy. But couldn't they at least give something? It's kind of rude to, as you said, "Leave me in the dark," it just kills the whole aspect and meaning of this thing--competition and improving on writing.

Ah well. Hopefully everyone will post at least something next time. ^_^[/color]

[Lady Asphyxia]

[color=darkred]We most probably will. I for one plan to enter something, and [i]not[/i] just because I've been guilted into it. [Because I haven't] Heh.

Congradulations to both. ^_^[/color]

[James]

[color=#808080]I guess the key is just to [i]expect[/i] that people won't always be able to participate to their fullest extent/ability.

That way, at least maybe you won't be as disappointed when people back out. It's a shame, but it happens.[/color]