Author Topic: Jet's Short Story Challenge!  (Read 9946 times)

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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #25 on: May 22, 2012, 12:42:06 am »
The Word of the day is: Angelic
And I finally got the chance to write for you Cheet. I like this story. I dont have much to say about this, so I will just let the work speak for itself. Here it is, Angelic.


---When Angels Die---

Nothing but the best. Heh. That’s not really important at this point. It’s not like this will help any of us really. It may be the best armor around, but that doesn’t mean it is any good. Not in this fight. I look beside me. The table stretches on forever. A man stands beside me. We have lined up this way. One man, one woman. One man, one woman. Alternating. He stares down at his armor on the table bleakly. He knows as well as any of us here know, we are all going to die. We must die. I thought we were better than this. We look down upon the beings that inhabit the planets below us. They fight senseless wars over territory, not us. We are angels. Protectors of the heavens and guardians of life. It doesn’t matter. None shall pass through here and overtake this place, even if we all must die. But where does an angel go after death? The order is given and I strap the metal plates to my body, fixing each piece to its correct position. The best armor around. Its light illuminates the entire room, filling our faces with light gold. The armor is lighter than air. I turn around, and take one last look at the man to my right as we walk towards the giant doors. He senses my look and turns to me. He smiles. I smile back. I take position at the door.

“Prepare!” someone yells out to us. The man beside me changes. His nose protrudes out and morphs into a muzzle. His arms grow fur and his legs grow an extra joint. He is now a Cross. Somewhere between man and dog. I change into my Cross as well. A dog woman. My eyes collectively enhance to see clearer. I smell what lies on the other side of this door now. It frightens me down to my core. I look left to find another Cross. A man who is also part bear. He feels it too, the despair on the other side. We exchange nervous smiles, then stare straight again. There’s a sound as the doors prepare to open. Then, they swing open suddenly, revealing the horror in full. The sky is no longer existent, only a black tar that hangs over the fields. An inky mist drowns the ground and surrounding mountains. Cries of painful torture find their way into my mind and I stir them back out. Whimpers and whines escape our mouths. The angels. Protectors of the heavens and guardians of life. Only the best.

“Attack!” the voice yells for the final time. All of us, in unison, charge blindly into the ink. I smack into it hard, but soon claw my way into the muck. The ink is thick and allows for almost to movement. My wings are useless here. I tunnel until I am picked up by something. It grabs me and lifts off the ground. I claw at the creature. It’s eyes are revealed to me. Dark red with some yellow burning like embers deep down. I bite at its face and claw for the hideous thing’s neck. A yelp is heard in the distance. I continue my fight. I hit it somewhere and it lets me go, but I don’t loosen my grip on it. Now that I have found it, I tear it apart as we fall. The ink lessens as it dies. I touch down and continue to tunnel again. Another thing brushes by and I jump at it, teeth bared. I connect with it as it lets out an ear-piercing cry of desperation. I grab at its head and rip in, biting and clawing my way into its thick body. Before long it dies as well and I continue my quest. I hate it in here. The ink makes it impossible to see. Something grabs my head and carries me off again. I reach up for it and find a hold on the creature. The ink all of a sudden dissipates and I fall to the ground. I am covered in ink, and my wings won’t open. My back slams into the ground and I lose my grip on what’s real. I hear a few more yelps and some howls somewhere in the fog of blackness. The ink creatures swirl around me, closing in. I can’t move. I ‘m a goner. I am an angel. Protectors of the heavens and guardians of life. Only the best. I have served the cause. And now I die. I close my eyes and wonder, where does an angel go after death?


There you have it, Angelic and what I wrote about it. I liked writing this. So on to the next story....
"Miniscule conflicts are insignificant in relation to the paradox of life itself." - Me, Josh Karels


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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #26 on: May 22, 2012, 12:49:57 am »
Next word: Asia
Asia?!? What? I had some trouble thinking of one for this, but I did find something. Took me a while, but you know, I wrote something. I like it, especially the ending... here you have it, Asia...


---Population Control---

Just stay hidden. That was the only thing she was supposed to do. The little girl failed her one sole objective. And nothing could save her now. Maybe if she were born elsewhere she could have had a normal life. Anywhere else. That was the burden that embodied her parents for so many years. They already had two children. You can only have two children. Any more must be turned over to the authorities. “Population Control,” they called it. China has always had a population issue, but none as severe as this. The boom in population in the 2040s was too much for their government to handle. It fell, again, and up rose communism. A total monarchy overruled. First act of this monarchy, population control. All families are allowed two children only. No more. The third child must be sent in immediately. There was a food shortage in China too. Been there since the 50s. Too many people and not enough to feed them all. This family knew that. That’s why they hid this little girl. They know they can only sustain two children, but they kept the third. They loved it too much. That was their eventual downfall. The child has remained hidden for this long. Crammed under the floorboards or in the walls. Every inspection, the child is sent to the dark crevices of their old house.

The child has been successful until now at remaining unfound. But this inspection, the child became afraid. She was scared and needed her mother. Her mother could not come, so she screamed. She cried for her family. Her mother tried her best to pass the noise off as the family next door and their annoying children. It almost fooled the officer. But the noise did not die down, and the officer grew suspicious. He wanted to investigate. It wasn’t a long search. Soon the others came in and tore down the wall to retrieve the child. She was dusty and terrified. Nothing could calm her down now. Yet she did not know the severity of her own situation. The family could only have two children. No more. Population Control. That’s what they called it, even if it was cruel and inhumane. It had to be done, so the rest could survive. The officer takes the child in his arms and walks out the door. The other men hold the family back as the child is taken away. They all know where this child is going. It must be done, even if the family doesn’t want it to. You can only have two children, no more. The third must be given to the government for slaughter and redistribution as food.


A little disturbing at the end, but it reminds me of something I once read or a game I played or something. Maybe a movie. I dont know. Anyways, I will probably write Old Rabbit's word, Polyphobia, tomorrow. I would write today, but im sort of tired and dont feel like writing anymore. Three stories in one day is good....


Also - For those that dont know, one of the stories I posted today ended up on the first page...go ahead and go back and check it out if you care to. Its the story for Wanderer's word, Journey. Hope you enjoy and dont forget to comment or give me more words. School is piling up so i may be slow right now, but I will write soon. Promise.



Jet..you're mad XD.
this is such a crazy challenge you're taking on here and you are pulling it off so darn well! big thumbs up from me  ;)
THANK YOU! I may be mad for trying, but I seem to be doing an okay job at keeping up. I like writing and I seem to be relatively good at it. Im no Mark Twain or Steinbeck but I am Jet and that's good enough for me. It makes me happy to see you post that though. Makes me feel special. ;)  Why dont you post a word, I'm sure you can come up with something that I will enjoy writing about, or would even be a challenge for me to write about. It all helps either way. :)
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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #27 on: May 23, 2012, 12:35:31 am »
How about the fear of many things.  "Polyphobia"

It's a rabbit thing.  :o
Alright, as promised, here is the story for Old Rabbit's word of Polyphobia. I sort of drew some inspiration from a scene in the movie "Babylon A.D." Its a great movie and I liked the market scene towards the beginning. So this is my story for Polyphobia...


---Irrationality---

“Going to the market to get some oranges,” I say out loud, not really caring of anyone hears me. Hearing my voice helps me calm down and make sense of the things around me. “Mother wants some oranges, so I must get some oranges. Going to the market to get some oranges. I don’t quite like oranges, they have always crept me out a little. With the color and their strange smell. Oranges.” I continue to talk as I enter the market. There are a lot of people here, too many people here. “I don’t like crowds,” I say. The orange guy is on the other end of this market, so I begin my walk through the crowds. The orange guy gives me the creeps too, with his long hair and how he always wears leather. Why does an orange vender wear leather? I man brushes up beside me and I jump away from him. I don’t like being touched, “I really don’t like crowds.” Some people laugh as I walk by. I stare at them, and see they are laughing at something on the table before them. I stand ready to run in case they turn around. People who laugh could be crazy. They could have a knife or worse, a gun. If they see me, they will shoot me for sure. I quicken my pace a little. A guy behind me yells. I cover me head and duck out of sight to the right. The man calls again to his friend across the market. I stand up and shakily make my way to the orange guy again, “That was a close one. He could have been trying to group with his friend to get to me more easily.” I walk fast. A loud crash goes off somewhere to my left. The sound of metal smashing into something hard. I scream and take off running at full speed to the right, away from whatever made that sound.

I slam into some man, who turns around and asks what I think I am doing. I don’t know. The man towers over me and his dark chin bares down on me like a hammer. I push away from him and head back towards the noise. The sound rings out again as a man slams a hammer into the side of a wall, trying to knock it in. I turn ninety degrees and take off again. “I have to get out of here,” I yell, “Get away from here!” I run thought the crowd and people push me as I get in their way or bump into them. I run from the people, the hammer, the noise, the man, the oranges. I keep running, I don’t want to die. The crowd diminishes as I get closer to the unfinished bridge. I run across it, seeking the high ground. It abruptly stops. I look down in and see the concrete a great distance below me. I turn around and see the crowd, moving like some sick worm. My heart presses against my chest as I try to catch my breath. I jump into the air as another noise punches my ears. A similar noise to the one before, coming from right about me. Metal on metal. I turn to run, but the road before me is unfinished. “Me or them. Me or them!” I say. The noise screams out again. I grit my teeth and desperately leap over the bridge.


I don't know if I accurately captured the fear of Polyphobia or not. Basically you are just scared of everything around you. I am not scared of everything around me, so this is slightly more difficult. Also, if you have an irrational fear for everything, I assume you dont necessarily say, "Ah! That scares me!" I guess you more show that through actions, such as running away. And to stick with the messed up way I write, the character is driven mad enough to make a desperate leap off a bridge. Sorry if these stories are too sad for some of you, but I really enjoy human psychology and the way their brains work. I especially love the way people break down and how different personalities degenerate into acts of pure desperation.


Also, if noone has noticed yet, I am all caught up on words! :) I believe I have now done all the words posted here. I will go back and make sure I didnt miss any, but I think I have all the stories written for now.......Give meh your words! ;)
"Miniscule conflicts are insignificant in relation to the paradox of life itself." - Me, Josh Karels


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Offline Mylo

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #28 on: May 23, 2012, 01:17:14 am »
Also, if noone has noticed yet, I am all caught up on words! :)

Not so fast! o.o  There are thousands of words to be given!  :D

Anyways
While your stories may be depressing at times, I think you have a good style developing...like you described, you like delving into the human psych and continue to explore the theme of desperation.

Just some random thoughts that popped up in my head:
- I've never seen the word Cross used before to describe an anthro; I've only seen furry, anthro, anthropomorphic, chimera, hybrid... (and it's kind of coincidental that they're angels if you know what I mean ;))
- In the story for Asia, you just threw that last sentence out there, the one about redistributing her for food.  It kind of caught me off guard, as in, it didn't really hit me...maybe because the delivery was rushed or maybe it's just me :P
- In fact, I'd like to see more of the drama when the family must forcibly give up their child...
- Never seen Babylon A.D. *adds to Netflix*
- The market scene reminded me of the chase scene in Blade Runner; I really liked the attention to detail
- But the one question that I still have...he was more afraid of people than he was of death?  Interesting.

What would you make of this?: alone
« Last Edit: May 23, 2012, 01:24:30 am by Mylo »

Offline typingwithpaws

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #29 on: May 23, 2012, 07:23:45 am »
hmmmmm.....ok then...i'll add a word for you, whats a really curley one *thinks hard*.


hehehe....i got one: detonation
« Last Edit: May 23, 2012, 07:25:22 am by typingwithpaws »
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Offline Old Rabbit

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #30 on: May 23, 2012, 11:19:58 am »
I think you did well with my word.. I chose it because
I felt it would be a challenge.  Emotions can take many
paths.. So if you want another word.

It's  "Emotion"


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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #31 on: May 23, 2012, 01:01:02 pm »
I was just going to wait and mention this when I post another story, but I am swamped with homework, so I dont know when I will write again. Also, all three of these new words, Alone, Detonation, and Emotion, would all have the same comment, so I guess I should mention this before I start writing...

Here we are, finally, getting some words that not only interest me a little more, but also develop practice for my novel. Alone is a great word because my main character, Sam, faces all of her friends and family leaving her in one way or the other. She must suffer through loneliness, and it drives her into the grips of depression as well. detonation reminds me of a particular part of the same novel, when Sam steps on two mines. Dont worry, they are concussion mines, meant to disable electronics and knock the wind out of you. But this will be some good practice for how I could describe, in first person, someone being near, or in Sam's case, on an explosion. And finally, Emotion. A broad and general word, but I could take this in several ways, too. I could try to practice how emotions can be portrayed through a character like Sam, who believes she must stay strong and show no emotions to carry the will of her father. But she is breaking inside...So this should be interesting.

While I still like the other words, angelic, journey, sunrise, trend, I am really excited to write these stories because they hit home more than the others. These seem a little more attached to my novel and the way I write. Thanks, and I promise I will write as soon as I can. I just cant wait till summer, imagine how much writing I could get done then! 8)
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Offline Mylo

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #32 on: May 23, 2012, 08:55:54 pm »
I just cant wait till summer, imagine how much writing I could get done then! 8)

Writing and arting and fursuiting and movie-making...the list goes on! :D
I think it was very well done how this thread is playing out.  It started off with just random words and you wrote random stories for them.  And through them, you are continuing to develop your storytelling abilities...now, you have words that you truly identify with (whether in character or IRL).  I can't wait to see what you come up with next!

Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #33 on: May 23, 2012, 11:10:46 pm »
Neither can I wait. And yes, the list goes on, writing, drawing, animation, short films, job, license, glowstringing, and on and on and on. Basically everything but school. It is amazing where this has ended up and where this is taking me. I sort of expected it to overwhelm me somewhat, but it hasnt yet *crossses fingers.* And I have been seriously thinking about that short story collection book thing. If not a collection of short stories that interlink together somehow, them at least a book that contains a bunch of my short stories for everyone to read. I think I will take the best of what comes out of this, edit it and maybe add some to it so its not as short, and collect those stories into a book of my short stories. An idea I got from you Mylo. But anyways, in the meantime, I just write and practice.

by the way, maybe its not such a bad idea for others who are passionate about writing to do a similar challenge. I enjoy it so much that it gives me a reason to write, and this will definitely be a help while I write my novel. So maybe others can do this too and have just as much fun as I'm having? ;) ;) ;)
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Offline Blackrose13

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #34 on: May 26, 2012, 01:49:08 am »
My word? Fallen (angels, from grace,etc)
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Offline Metalhead_Mockingbird

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #35 on: May 27, 2012, 07:28:41 pm »
How about this; Armor (In reference to things such as armored vehicles like APCs/IFVs or tanks.)


I also might start up my own writing challenge thread- this was a great idea.
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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #36 on: May 31, 2012, 10:16:18 pm »
Also, if noone has noticed yet, I am all caught up on words! :)
Not so fast! o.o  There are thousands of words to be given!  :D


What would you make of this?: alone

Alright, finally something more to my liking of writing. A lot of other words were fun to write as well, they all were fun actually, but this more specifically links to my personal enjoyment to writing. It may not be as apparent here, because of the format of short stories, but I dont particularly write a mind rapidly descending into a collapse, like the kid for Old Rabbits word, Polyphobia. I more enjoy writing a slow mental breakdown, as is shown in my novel. Here, I wanted to slow down the collapsing mental status. I like this and I LOVED writing it. finally got some time in second period at school to write. :)

So here is by far one of my favorite stories so far for this thread, the story for Alone...



---Decent of the Abandoned Mind---

Milk’s gone sour again. I walk over to the trashcan to throw the whole jug away. It’s smell lingers in the air, shifting around as I walk. As I lift the plastic lid off my trash, the voice echoes in my mind, “Dump it out first!” My wife. Her rant about the smell throwing away a gallon of sour milk would develop plays over as I dump the milk down the sink. I wish she were still here, even with her constant bickering. I can almost see the grey fumes the milk is ejecting. I move to throw the empty jug away, but I decide against it. I turn to my table and take a step in its direct, holding the milk close to my chest. To my left is the open fridge. I shut the door, watching the thick clots of dust roll off the top on impact and slowly parachute to the musky tile beneath my feet. The dust bounces off under the fridge, leaving me to stand with my rotten milk. I take another step towards the isolated table, allowing the side of the fridge to be revealed in the corner of my eyes. I peer over to find an image. A young woman in a bright red scarf, smiling out at the world. Engraved under her are the words, “To My Dearly Beloved.” I shudder and tighten my grasp on the jug. I dare to take three steps towards my destination before stopping again. A portrait of a small boy and its dog dangles crookedly from one nail on the wall to my right. The boy’s dark brown hair jumps out in all directions. His smile is in eerie replica of the woman with the scarf. He hugs an excited black Labrador wearing a collar, which reads, “Montague” I close both my arms around the empty jug, projecting the heavy stench into my sunken face. I leave behind the woman, child, and pet with another step. Before me now lies a small photo. The frame of glass lies around it in several fragments. The dull image depicts a blond haired man smiling wide. The words “For the Best of Friends” is boldly displayed in hushed tones of blue above the man. I attempt another step away from the kitchen.

A mirror, almost swallowed up by a blanket of dust, reveals a man in front of me. His brown hair juts out in a similar way to the boy’s. His mouth seeks refuge under a month’s worth of unshaven stubble. His eyebrows disperse wildly in an unkempt manner. The eyes that were crudely placed below the mess sink in grey monotone. The skin around them are in constant threat of following the dusty clots to the floor, manipulated severely by the intense gravity of sleep deprivation. I move forward another step, drawing closer to the man in the dusty mirror before the projection leaves its borders forever. I pull myself into the wooden chair that lies beside my table. The decrepit wood cries out as the full pressure of my weight is set upon it. I set the empty milk gallon on the table in front of myself. Just beside the milk jug is a newspaper. I lift it up and read the text on the front page. My dry mouth creaks open, releasing the frayed voice of selective speech. “May 26th.” More than a month ago. I know what is continued and although I dread hearing the words again, I read on. “Derailed Train Rolls over Car, Killing 3 and Dog!” images are scattered around the story, resembling those which laid about my previous path. I replace the newspaper where I found it, careful not to disturb the walls of filth that box it in. I lay my head on the table, displacing the stale air. I stare into my empty milk jug, watching curls of dust settle at the bottom.


I hope you liked it. as I said, this is more my style of writing. And I like the story a lot. I guess theres not much more to say about Alone, but I am excited to write for detonation. The main character of my novel steps on a land mine and this is a perfect opportunity to experiment with how to write a first person of someone caught in a less than lethal explosion.
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Offline Mylo

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #37 on: May 31, 2012, 10:50:26 pm »
Excellent job as ever Jet.  I loved what you did with alone, the fact that you described in detail the consequences of being alone, the "want" for the people who are gone (and the simultaneous denial that they are truly gone).  That's one of my favourite themes in stories. 

Now for another word...how about...plot twist... Furtopia. XD

Offline Hashira

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #38 on: June 01, 2012, 12:01:14 am »
Youre doing great Jet! Has anyone suggested "Jet" yet?
Come find me! More to come!

Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #39 on: June 01, 2012, 12:42:59 am »
Hmm...I still have other stories to write first, gotta stay chronological, but ideas are bumping around in there for Furtopia and Jet. I have two ideas for Furtopia, not sure which to do, but I like them both. And as for Jet...the options. Maybe I could write an excerpt from a novel I plan to write as a background for one of Jet's personalities... Im sure I will find something. And FINALLY school is starting to die down. Just finals week this monday and an oral presentation I am dreading tomorrow. I should be able to do at least one story a day. Ive got a lot of writing to do this weekend. :) And Metalhead_Mockingbird, go ahead and do a writing challenge of your own if you want. I find it a lot of fun and it is definitely good practice for my book. I just write what I like to write. Even if its a happy word, I write the way I enjoy to, which isnt traditionally the happiest stories out there, but I love it a lot. Mylo also seems to be having fun. But how can you not have fun when you arent just doing what you love, but being recognized for it. ;)


I would like to formally thank everyone who has ever posted, is posting, and will post in this thread. You guys are awesome and this has been an amazing experience for me. honestly, I could see myself still writing in fifty years! :D So thanks everyone here, you have really turned up my passion for storytelling. So again Thanks everyone and keep posting like you have been. I really appreciate it. :goldgrin:
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Offline typingwithpaws

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #40 on: June 01, 2012, 02:20:47 am »
I would like to formally thank everyone who has ever posted, is posting, and will post in this thread. You guys are awesome and this has been an amazing experience for me. honestly, I could see myself still writing in fifty years! :D So thanks everyone here, you have really turned up my passion for storytelling. So again Thanks everyone and keep posting like you have been. I really appreciate it. :goldgrin:

that makes me feel better, i was worried you'd be running about saying "OMG wordsplosion!" and having a 'pressure' of work to do but it is clear that you dont take it that way...FANTASTIC!
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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #41 on: June 02, 2012, 11:15:21 pm »
hmmmmm.....ok then...i'll add a word for you, whats a really curley one *thinks hard*.


hehehe....i got one: detonation
Ok. I dont know if I will make a habit of this, unless you guys like it, but I could help it for this word. I decided to write a small piece of my novel in progress, Project Tango. I havent gotten to this part yet in writing. But I wanted to write here to practice two key things. I will explain those after the story. So if you for some reason dont want to be spoiled about the story if I publish it later and you get a copy, dont read it. Although it is a rough idea of how this section will go and is liable to change, a specific plot point will remain the same.

Also, I toned down the blood and gore here a lot. I skipped some parts, like the SSAD and Napalm dogs, as well as the wasps, mainly to cut down on the length. This whole scene will be bigger in the actual book, but I think it serves its purpose for this challenge. So here's my story for detonation.


---Battle at Valley S---

The intense heat is almost too much as the fire warps around the tree I took cover behind. It dies out, thankfully. I peer out, seeing the blue-eyed boy is no longer there. The mostly melted knife he used to kill the dog is all that is left of him now. I turn to Liberty, who knows what has occurred. She whimpers for her fellow dog, now gone due to the cruel acts of the Germans. I peak over the stone wall to my right. The Germans have begun their advance down the hill, led by more dogs. As they enter the bottom of the valley, I see several of them drop. More and more follow them. “What’s going on?” I whisper to myself. Then, from the forest on the left, droves of green suited men rush into the German army. The Mexican’s morph into the Germans and fight mercilessly. I can see a small orb coming up the hill towards me. I squint to see the ball better, but it’s still a blur. As it gets closer, I cans see it more clearly, and soon I realize what it is. My eyes bulge and I slam my back against the wall of stone. I gather enough sense to grab Liberty and pull the dog close to me. A man charges towards me and I shake my head at him. He ignore me, jumping over the wall I hide behind. Shortly after his departure, I hear a scream. It must have got to him. His arm comes over the wall and drags the rest of his body onto my side. The man spasms for a while then dies in front of me. Through his quivers, I see the large creature that killed him. I lift my gun and shoot the two-foot Mexican wasp. A swarm of the deadly mutations of war fly past me and collide with more members of the volunteer army. I sneak over the wall, Liberty following close behind.

The Russian army has reached the valley and is fighting brutally to win. Four helicopters with the Japanese army insignia on them have also arrived and are taking out the masses with their SSADs. I make it to another wall and take cover behind it. From behind my wall, I can see him. Marc is lying on the hill a good distance in front of me. There’s just a flat open field between us. Thankfully, he is sniping towards the Russians and doesn’t see Liberty and I. I vault over my wall and sprint towards the man who killed my father. Maybe I can get some answers before I kill him. Liberty pursues after me. Marc feels closer than ever as I approach. Then all sound stops. The shooting and yelling is sucked from existence. Something punches my feet and the vibrations smash their way up my body. Dirt and pieces of metal engulf me and obscure my vision on the hill, still a distance away. I feel weightless as I am lifted out of the cloud of dirt and debris. I reach out to the ground, but it leaves me sight and is replaced by the sky. I land flatly on the ground. My eyes are swallowed by black and purple. My lungs can’t seem to remember how to perform their job. The world snaps back into vision all at once. I see the dirt settling back into its crater. Liberty is dragging me into cover by a tree. Liberty looks up at me. I stare into my dog’s brown eyes. Her black fur is still matted down with the blood and dirt I promised to wash off. I know what she is thinking of doing. I try to tell her no, but all I can manage is a garbled moan. Liberty takes off around the tree. I rock my head and force my unresponsive body to fall over. I watch on my side as Liberty runs for Marc. She gets farther and farther from me. An explosion of dirt eats her whole, then spits her out the top. Her light body flies farther than what I assume mine did, and she hits another mine.

Her body comes to a limp stop and I manage to prop myself up on shaky legs. I can see from here these are concussion mines, designed to knock the wind out of you. They also tend to knock tank treads loose as well as other vehicle’s tires. Non-lethal. Liberty should be fine, a little shaken like me, but fine. I stumble over to her. Out of the corner of my eyes, an explosion goes off in the sky. German anti-air has hit one of the Japanese SSAD helicopters. It loses control and smacks into the ground, sending me back onto my side. The blades catch on the ground and send the twisted heap into a roll. The burning metal machine rolls over Liberty, coming to a complete stop in two pieces over her. My heart ceases to pump the blood into my body, my fingers turn frigid, my stomach drops off the Earth. “Liberty!” my throat tears open and my voice is forced out so fast its almost incoherent through the desperation for what I have witnessed to be only a mirage. I pick myself up and force my uncooperative legs to run towards Liberty. The whole world falls away as my eyes fixate on Liberty’s paw, the only thing left visible under the crashed helicopter. Inch by inch I get closer to my dog. My best friend. My only family member. My heart turns back on, and I notice my hyperventilation now. I open my mouth to scream for Liberty, but it is immediately filled with charred dirt. I am weightless again. The paw I so desperately longed to reach leaves my sight. Sky replaces paw. Earth replaces sky. Sky replaces Earth. Earth finally grabs me back. My body is limp again. A boy enters my fixed vision. My mother’s blue eyes stare worryingly into my own. Matt. Matt scoops me up and runs off into the forest to get us to safety. As the forest closes around me, I catch one last glimpse of the charred wreckage, fatefully positioned on top of the last thing left on this Earth I cared enough to live for. This must have been how John felt.


The chapter this is in is called "Battle at Valley S" hence the short story's name. I wanted to see if I could accurately portray someone in first person being engulfed in an explosion. the mine is less than lethal of course, but well effective. imagine an explosion, minus the parts that blow off your legs. its similar to that. The second thing I wanted to do was show someone, who has already lost everything, lose the one thing in their lives that made it worth living. I will go more into detail on the violent gore of the battle in the novel, thus enhancing the feeling of total chaos that revolves around the situation, but here I had to make it more family friendly. If you dont know who John is, you can PM me for the part that has his reaction which is hinted here. He had what he loved most teared from him, and his bloody reaction to the situation isnt Furtopia friendly. So you can PM me for a link to read that excerpt.

Thanks for reading and I will get around to the next word tomorrow with any luck. Today has flown by and i dont think I will be able to write much today from what else I still have to do today before bed. :P comment if you want, and again, i dont know if its a good idea to post excerpts from my novel as you miss out on the rest of the story and subtext. But whatever. (:
"Miniscule conflicts are insignificant in relation to the paradox of life itself." - Me, Josh Karels


PLUR

Offline Old Rabbit

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #42 on: June 03, 2012, 11:30:31 am »
Well written Jet..  I know your trying to write about war.
 But the story is kinda pushing the rules a bit on
gore.  Just a reminder ..

Rules about art/literature   
http://forums.furtopia.org/index.php?topic=42767.0

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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #43 on: June 03, 2012, 01:17:17 pm »
Well written Jet..  I know your trying to write about war.
 But the story is kinda pushing the rules a bit on
gore.  Just a reminder ..

Rules about art/literature   
http://forums.furtopia.org/index.php?topic=42767.0


Yes, I know all too well about that gore rule. I have posted other parts of my novel here. I posted one that was a fight the main character had with a small Mexican unit. That particular piece had shooting, some people being shot, an explosion that took out plenty of people, and a decapitation. I ran it through with the staff and they told me since I did not go overly into detail on the bloodiness of the battle, which I do a lot, it was fine to post. The bloodiest thing here is the dog being crushed under the wreckage. I toned that down so it would be acceptable. I skipped several parts that she sees as she runs down the hill, like the Napalm dog attach, which is an extremely gory scene. I also will go into more detail on the crash in my actual novel. But again, I toned it down some to accommodate the rules here.

Also, not all of my novel resolves around the war. In fact, most of it is Sam, the girl, and her group surviving in the wild. There are creatures the likes of which have yet to be seen by this world. I think a scene with the Swarms will be too gory, other than one particular scene. But anything with a Fuzzapede should be okay for here since they  are non-violent. Hunters are just creepy, but they dont get any gory parts in this novel. Shadows are some of my favorite creatures, but when they fight, it can get pretty brutal. There are some parts they are with the main character because of the Fuzzapede that follows them. So not everything is gory, but the fights can get a little bloody. This is also the reason I did not post a link to the part with John. That part, according to staff, is too "excessively gory" so I can send the link only through a PM if requested. I love that part and how it was written. But that is just me.

But ya, I know about the rule and I am sure this isnt too gory. I also have a sort of question. Is it still gore if it isnt really realistic. Like for instance, my school wont allow Call of Duty to be played in after school game nights because its too bloody. But Halo, which has the same amount of blood coming from the Elites, is okay because it's "unrealistic blood" coming from aliens. So is it still gory if they arent human or a creature that could exist on this planet. I ask because I was sure a certain part I wanted to post was too gory. I explained the spine and blood and skin and other things that are too gory if it were a human. But since it was a dead creature that was unrealistic, it was fine according to staff to post it. Just me pondering...
"Miniscule conflicts are insignificant in relation to the paradox of life itself." - Me, Josh Karels


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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #44 on: June 04, 2012, 06:35:02 pm »
I think you did well with my word.. I chose it because
I felt it would be a challenge.  Emotions can take many
paths.. So if you want another word.

It's  "Emotion"


Old Rabbit :orbunny:
Alright, here I wanted to show some different emotions that are exhibited in a war situation. So i wrote this after my final was done. Hope you enjoy.



---Trench Warfare---

“Just get over that hill!” A man yells at the others. He is obviously the leader here. The men huddle close together in the trench, waiting for their leader to tell them what to do. “Johannes! You and Mariko take the left. And don’t stop until you reach the bunkers!”  A man, holding his helmet tightly to his head and quivering down to his very bones, crawls over to another man and touches his shoulder. The man, upon being touched, jumps, throwing his rifle far from his current position. “Mariko! Pick up that rifle and get your butt moving!” the leader continues his orders. Johannes and Mariko crawl to the left of the trench, ducking at every sound. Loud explosions and bullets stream across the tops of their trench. The two men, upon order, swiftly run to the next trench. They dive headfirst inside, for fear of being hit while climbing down. “Martin, grab what’s left of your squad and take to the right!” The man named Martin collects four others and takes off to the right trench. Two of the men are hit upon exiting the trench, and fall back into their trench. One dies immediately, the other spasms and screams out for help. The bullet has hit his neck, and the blood is rapidly pouring out. A man, shivering in fear and mumbling to himself, sits not three feet from the dying man. “Would you shut him up, please!” The man mumbling to himself hears something no one else can and throws his hands up in the air, returning them quickly to holding his helmet on. The leader walks over to the man, “What’s your name soldier?” The man does not answer, and continues to mumble. “I said what’s your name!” the leader screams into the man’s helmet. The man mutters his name at first, then repeats it three times very loud. The leader responds, “Hill. Well Hill, pick up your rifle and shut him up!” The man who claims to be Hill stutters that he has lost his rifle and has no weapon. The leader rises to full height, his face gleaming red, and points his own rifle at the dying man. The leader takes one clean shot to the man’s head, killing him instantly. Upon seeing his leader kill a soldier, another man farther away lets out a distressed scream and begins weeping uncontrollably.

The leader looks at the man who calls himself Hill and yells, “If you don’t have a weapon, run to the right hill and grab one in the bunker!” The man cowardly climbs to his feet and positions to climb out of the trench. “Go Hill!” the leader screams, sending the man out of the trench in a heartbeat. Hill runs for a distance, but a bullet passing close by sends him into a frantic crawl. And explosion hits a tank passing by, and the man becomes immobilized. The leader sees his soldier huddled on the dirt rolling back and forth. The leader climbs out of the trench, walking briskly towards Hill. More bullets pass by the man, but he doesn’t lessen his pace. Once he has reached the fallen soldier, the leader grabs Hill by his coat and drags him to the right trench. The leader throws the man into the ditch and yells at him, “Go get your rifle and group up with us at Bunker 6!” The man agrees and trips over himself in his run to get a weapon. The leader walks back to his trench. Bullets grab his attention and he fires several shots blindly in the direction they are coming from. The leader jumps back into his bunker. “All left! Listen up! We are going to Bunker 6, those who fall behind are doomed to die! Get your gear and follow me!” The leader climbs out of the trench. Once on the higher land, a rocket cuts through the air, eventually colliding with the leaders chest. The explosion sends the man into the air, and the fearless leader’s corpse lands far behind the trench line. One man still in the trench breaks and refuses to move from his spot. A few men crawl out of the trenches to face the enemy head on. More men than not simply bunch up in tight masses, and quickly duck into the next trench over. Not knowing when the next plane will fly overhead and drop more bombs, the masses of men continue along the maze of trenches.


So that's the story for Emotion. I was going to write something different, but this was playing in my head, so I just wrote it instead. It looks like I have a decent amount of words up there to do. I have all half days this week, so it looks like I should be able to knock out at least one story a day. Time to write! :D


Also, typingwithpaws, I was afraid this would get overwhelming. But it seems even though I have tons of writing ahead of me, it doesnt seem at all that daunting. maybe its like the old saying goes... If you love what you do, you never work a day in your life. This I guess could be similar to that, because i love to write and this doesnt seem like work to me, just some good fun. :)
"Miniscule conflicts are insignificant in relation to the paradox of life itself." - Me, Josh Karels


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Offline redyoshi49q

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #45 on: June 04, 2012, 10:22:43 pm »
Jet, I wanted to wait until your queue depleted before giving you a word since I wanted to avoid overwhelming you with a large queue (particularly since you weren't out of school yet), but it seems that you aren't having that sort of reaction.  Since that is the case, I'll append a word to your queue now.

"Tenacity" is the word.  I hope you find it to be a good one.
"Perfect normality is impossible.  Be unique!"
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Offline Kek

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #46 on: June 07, 2012, 04:28:01 pm »
ferocious is my word :P
I'm just another teenage furry, though im not all that active in the fandom due to not wanting to associate myself with a fandom with such a bad rep. If anyone remembers me from a couple years ago when i first joined id like to formally apologize for you having to suffer that. im potatolumps on tumblr if you want to check out my blog or whatever, just know i dont often post anything furry related

Offline Zeak

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #47 on: June 07, 2012, 10:15:57 pm »
Hey,nice stories. Kinda remindes me of The dark Tower books. More so at the end. My word is Paradox.
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Offline Old Rabbit

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #48 on: June 08, 2012, 12:54:03 pm »
Very well done on "emotion"  Jet.. emotions and
war are a dangerous mix. Sometimes they can
give a warrior uncommon bravery too..

The next word is "Fodder"  It's the same
as the one I last gave Mylo.. I am curious
how you both write a story using it.
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Offline Jet

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Re: Jet's Short Story Challenge!
« Reply #49 on: June 11, 2012, 06:10:00 pm »
My word? Fallen (angels, from grace,etc)

So I sat down and wrote this finally. It is a continuation of my previous writing for Angelic. For those who don't remember, that was about the angel who could turn into a Cross and had to fight those ink creatures. She was attacked at the end. This basically picks up right after that. So here is the story for Fallen...


---When Angels Die---

I open my eyes and I see darkness. The whole world is black. I am falling, falling through the darkness. I look around me to see the walls or the floor, but there is nothing around me in all directions but the blackness. I search my thoughts to what has happened that brought me to this place of eternal falling. I can remember a cloud of thick ink. I recall being lifted and dropped, fighting off something concealed in the black goo. I remember the fall I took, the open area of clear I fell into. I remember something coming at me through the ink, and the black enveloping my being. I died. I am an angel, protectors of… I am an angel? But I can’t remember the creed. My tail swings in front of me. My tail! I am still a Cross. I feel my body and find  a muzzle and ears and the tail. I am a Cross, so I am an angel. But why can’t I remember our sacred creed. I don’t remember it. I seem to fall faster and faster with each passing, confusing second. I am the guardian of protecting Earth? Or I protect what guards Earth from someone? The Crosses, we are…angels? What am I?

I see something peel off my tail, leaving nothing in its place. A chunk of my tail breaks off and floats past me, resting in the air in front of myself. I stare at it, wondering what has happened. More pieces join it, linking together to form a whole tail, moving on its own whim. I look down to find my tail replaced with thin air Another piece of myself disconnects from my muzzle, joining the floating tail. My muzzle breaks away, one piece at a time, and I grab unsuccessfully at the escaping body parts. My hands are now mostly human-like again, with the claws joining the others above me. I reach up to collect myself in the air, but my hands phase straight through the body forming. My muzzle is replaced with a human’s face. My tail with a short cut spine. My claws with nails. My fur with flesh. The pieces collect and tie together before my. A mirror image of myself in Cross form. My Cross. I stare at her, and she stares back at me. I don’t know what is happening, but I can sense she does. I reach for her sad face, which unwaveringly bares down at me with tearful eyes. My hands go through her fur, and I feel the darkness close in. My Cross closes her eyes and she slowly fades into the ever growing darkness. When she finally fades from existence, my eyes are forced shut. I am dead. I am no longer an Angel, guardian of something protected, but rather a deceased relic of what was once a protector of something guarded. I am no longer a Cross. My Cross has been torn from me, taken piece by piece and recollecting into its own form to another place. I am dead. I was an angel, but now I have died. But where do Angels go when they die?


So for those who don't know yet, I am thinking of writing this into an actual novel and such. So this is her "dying" and turning human basically. She is no longer an angel, but rather a human on Earth with us. She will try to get back up there and continue the fight, but I still need to work all that out. Also, her Cross will be a sort of guardian angel she sees a lot on Earth as well. So, she is not gone. Anyways, I have two more stories to post, so here it comes...the triple post! :o
"Miniscule conflicts are insignificant in relation to the paradox of life itself." - Me, Josh Karels


PLUR