The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing

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OrangeRakoon
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PostThe Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by OrangeRakoon » Wed Apr 25, 2018 11:23 pm

There was a thread back on SONM called The Writer's Circle where people shared things that they wrote. I couldn't find anything similar here, so I thought why not make a thread myself? But biggerer and more 3D.

Brought on by my publishing of a second short story on my website tonight:



My short story from last year, White Sky, is up there too, if anyone is interested!

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DarkRula
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by DarkRula » Tue May 08, 2018 2:08 pm

I remember reading that White Sky when you posted it last year. It's still a great little character piece reading it again. As for the second, you created a good amount of world-building from such a simple device, and the ending was great.

My latest book has previews for both of my previous stories - along with the one I'm currently working on, so those previews - along with one from that latest book - I'm going to post here.

The Alternate Adventures of Halesowen - Day of the Shorts
Jack and Daniel arrived not long after Carson had, and last to arrive was Brandon. Ross moved from where he was stood to talk to Brandon, and five minutes later five more students arrived. These five kept to themselves, and stayed within their own group. As such, the label of secondary group had been used numerous times to describe them.

Five minutes before nine, Eliott showed up. The main lecturer for the course, he was a friendly man with a stubbly chin and short, unkempt hair. Greeting the students, he walked up the ramp and unlocked the door of the mobile. A very short corridor allowed access to three rooms. Eliott opened up the left of these rooms, and all students filed in. The secondary group took up seats furthest from the door. The others spread out a bit more.

Carson sat next to Daniel, with Quinn on Daniels’ other side. Carson looked around to see if everyone else had seated themselves, then faced the front. Now they would know what this was about.



“It’s great to see everyone here,” Eliott greeted. “I’m sure you’ve all been wondering what this surprise is.”

Alicia, sat at the back, was following what was being said intently. Some of the others were as well. It seemed most had been wondering what this surprise was.

“We’ve had a chat between lecturers and decided this day would be about you applying what you have learnt throughout the year to make short films,” Eliott announced. “Since there are fifteen of you, split into groups of five and work as a group to make a short film by three o’clock. Once you are all back here by that time, we will watch all three films and have a vote to see which is the best. The winner of that vote… Well, I have five DVD’s here, and the group that wins gets to pick from them.”
Eliott looked around the group, smiling.

“Get to it, then,” he simply said.

Alicia was quick off the mark, standing up and calling for Jack and Brandon to join her. She was in the back row of tables, with Elizabeth and Kimberly. Jack, Brandon, and Ross were in the middle row. Allowing easier access to her, Alicia quickly moved to the space by the door.

Jack had joined her, and Brandon was on his way. It looked as though Ross was following Brandon to join her. Kimberly and Elizabeth had somehow arrived at her side, and when Ross noticed this he gave a shrug and sat back down.

Confident in her group, Alicia informed them they’d be at her house for planning so they ran into no interruptions. Jack, Elizabeth, and Kimberly trailed out the door. Brandon gave Ross an encouraging smile before following suit.

Alicia followed up and made her way outside with the rest of her group. Making a short film with this lot should be easy, she thought to herself.



“So who have we got?” Daniel asked.

Carson looked around, and once he saw who was left, he knew it wouldn’t be greeted with much enthusiasm with either Daniel or Quinn. That was confirmed when Daniel looked behind him to see Ross minding his own business. Giving a snort of contempt, he faced the front and huddled closer, quietly asking “Do we have to?”

“Groups of five, remember,” Carson said. “And if we had wanted someone else, we should have been quicker in choosing.” He withheld the comment about them not even starting to choose another team member.

“He might not be so bad,” Hannah tried reasoning. “It’s the last day, after all.”

“Brandon I could have worked with,” Daniel said. “Or even Kim-Zee,” he added, referring to both Kimberly and Elizabeth. Since both were inseparable, the affectionate name had been coined within the first few weeks and had stuck. “But… Alright. Though if he messes me around he’s gone.”

“Come on then,” Carson called to the group, looking at Ross. “To Block 7, so we can plan this thing.”

Ross reluctantly joined the rest as they made their way to Block 7. Between Block 4 and 5 was a small accessway which led to the sports field on the right and Block 7 to the left. Passing through the double doors and into the spacious lobby, the group turned left and through a singular door which held a stairway up to the second floor. They could have used the main stairway halfway across the lobby, but that would have meant doubling back to reach the hangout of the group whenever they had classes in the computer rooms.

Settling down in the corner and looking out at the window which covered the whole wall space, the group then settled for a planning session. At first the generation of ideas goes well, with Daniel and Quinn liking the idea of something involving a small mystery. Four of the group were invested in discussing ideas. Ross, however, had sat in silence looking as though he was only half paying attention. Thinking that maybe interaction with him would get him to discuss some ideas, Carson asked him for some input.

“What’s the point?” was Ross’ reply. “It’s not like this is being marked anyway.”

“Lighten up,” Quinn called out.

“Why should I?”

“Because we need to work as a team,” Daniel replied in a rushed voice. “And if you’re being all serious on us, then how are we meant to work as one?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does,” Quinn shouted out exasperatedly. “If you aren’t going to show much enthusiasm, that’s going to show up when we need you.”

“Just because I don’t show much enthusiasm doesn’t mean I won’t do what I need to.”

Carson looked to Hannah, who also wasn’t joining in now, and both wondered how they’d be able to diffuse this eruption.



Now settled in her home, the group was sat comfortable in either the three-seat sofa or the armchairs that were around. Both were a deep red, with the sofa on the left side of the door, one of the armchairs on the right side of it, and the other armchair – though usually set perpendicular to the end of the sofa – was dragged a bit further in so the group could talk.

“So we need some ideas,” Alicia started off. “Though I think we should first talk about roles.”

“You’ll be on the camera, I expect?” Jack asked.

“Yes, I will.”

“Brandon’s usually good at bringing ideas to the table. Anything?”

He turned to Brandon, who was sat next to him on the sofa, and the others looked at him as well.

“We’re in a house at the moment…” Brandon slowly started, rubbing a hand through his hair while thinking. “So why not base our idea here?”

“Specific ideas?”

“Maybe a romance thing? I could be a hopeless romantic on a date or something like that?”

“That could work,” Alicia agreed. “But-”

“Hold on,” Elizabeth interrupted. “Is this just another way for you to flirt with me while pretending you don’t actually mean it?”

“No!” Brandon rebuked, with a comical look of outrage on his face. “Come on! Have I ever done that before?”

Alicia knew exactly how everyone would react to that, so it came as no surprise that she was just one of four voices that said “Yes.”


Secrets Behind the Truth
It hadn’t been a ‘not long’ journey. It had been just over two hours long, but at last the train was slowing.

Max wished there were some windows so he could look out and see where they had ended up. A few rough jolts had nearly everyone tumbling into each other or into walls, and for an unlucky few, the floor. Max had managed to stay standing, using his suitcase as a leaning post.

The train stopped and the single door popped open. Max looked around at everyone, who were looking very bedraggled, and at the number of suitcases and other bags that were scattered across the floor.

“Round up your belongings and join us on the platform,” Grant said. The two lecturers then walked out of the train.

Not wanting to watch everyone struggle, Max unhooked himself from his suitcase and dragged it out with him.

He wasn’t much impressed by what was outside. The platform was a simple thing, with a brick wall and a few doors in front of him. To the right was another wall. A chill was beginning to creep in, and Max realised the platform was open-air. Looking to his left, he could see the track the train had followed, along with a few hills, and three people following the lecturers back onto the platform.

These must be the instructors, and Max wasn’t really impressed by them either. Two male and one female, they all wore the same blue jumpers. The first of the two males had a cheery face, and a very likeable appearance. There was something to his eyes though, that Max couldn’t place. They looked sharper than the rest of him. The other male looked a lot older, with greying hair and a rough appearance. As for the female, she looked slightly uncomfortable – nervous even – as though this was her first time here.

As they arrived outside the door, they stood so the taller man was to the left and the female on the right. Other students were now making their way out, dragging suitcases the same as Max had done. They were struggling slightly, and Max stood well away from the door to give them clear access out.

It took a few minutes for everyone to get out. Stood around as best as they could on the thin strip that served as the platform, they waited for the instructors to begin.

“Glad you all made it,” the taller male started. “Welcome to Plutes, the home of student holidays with a media focus. My name is Stanley Upper, my partner’s name is Ean. Our old helper left last week, so we brought in Telisa – who is on the right.”

“Here you will get experience in filmmaking,” Ean added. “We will pass on some interesting tricks we use, and then you will get the opportunity to use them over the next few days in a group project.”

“For now, though, let’s show you where you’ll be staying,” Telisa commented.

The three instructors headed in the direction Max had seen them come from, and the group followed. The end of the platform was the start of a gravel path, which turned immediately to the right. The brick wall still continued on the right side of the path, and halfway along to the left was a smaller building, which Stanley gave a comment on.

“That over there is our house. This wall along the right is where you will be staying, though the entrance is on the other side.”

“This building is attached to the station,” Max pointed out. “Wouldn’t it have been better to give direct access?”

Stanley brought the group to a halt and looked out at the students.

“The point,” he informed them, “is to allow a look at the land you will be working on before heading inside. This allows that. Going straight in doesn’t.”

Turning back to face forward, Stanley continued walking, indicating that the group should follow. The path followed the building by turning to the right, and opened out to a small square where the entrance to the student building was.

Everyone stopped at this square, looking around. Hills surrounded the place, offering a very open space in which to film some projects.

“As you can see, the land surrounding us is all available for use,” Stanley said. “Professional editing and sound suites are located beyond the hills for use as well. Now, let’s show you around inside the building.”

The double doors were opened, and once inside it was clear this place was the main meeting room. To the left were a load of tables, arranged in two squares of nine. The large gap between them allowed access to the double doors on the left. Another set of double doors were straight in front. On the right, running almost the entire length of the room, was a serving counter.

With the students piled in with all their luggage, Stanley pointed out what the doors held. The doors straight in front were the rooms for men. To the left were the rooms for the women. The doors either side of the serving counter allowed access for the staff.

“Pick out a room, and return here once you’re ready,” Telisa said. “We’ll work from here today, just giving you an idea of what to expect throughout the week.”

Max watched everyone else disperse, and followed last. The corridor had three intersections in it to allow access to the four rooms either side. The end set of rooms had three more to the left, and what looked like access to where the lecturers would stay. Not wanting to be near them, Max turned to the right, and found all four rooms empty. Taking one of the end rooms, he settled down, placing his suitcase under the table.

The table was immediately left of the door, with the bed opposite. To the right was the bathroom. Max was surprised each room had one. He had suspected it would be communal considering the gender split for the rooms.

Not wanting to do anything else yet, he sorted himself out in the bathroom then headed back out. The door would have to stay unlocked while he was out of it, though he suspected no-one would really be going through his stuff while here.

For the next four hours, the instructors talked about basic filming and acting techniques, and had some of the students do a little role-play. Once it hit 19:00, the talk stopped and the serving counter opened. The food that was served was filling, and once all had eaten, the students were told to head back to their rooms and prepare for tomorrow.

Back in his room, Max locked the door and pulled out his Secure Data-Rec.


Elemental Heroes
Once all twenty had finished the training exercise, Gary entered the hall from the door to the left. Those trainees looked curiously at him, and the officer overseeing the training greeted him.

“PEC Storm. Good news I take it?”

“Indeed,” Gary stated. “The section I head has now got a new rank to fill. I’m here to see if three of your high-tier trainees are ready to move into it.”

“They are the top of their class, and ready to fill the ranks of the regular force. If three of the students here pass your test, they can move into your section.”

The trainees looked excited at the prospect of being chosen, and Gary could sense their eagerness. Their body language suggested they were ready now. He wanted to make sure. Being a Primary Commander meant accepting the best.

“Do we have the results of that last test?” Gary asked.

He was shown the results on one of the monitors, and looked at the various statistics shown. There were differences between time taken, attacks landed, energy lost, and other data relating to the combat. He didn’t feel that those who were best should automatically get through, so split the group into fives based on that data – best to worst – with the idea of selecting two from each group.

“Use your training swords,” Gary advised. “This will be tough.”

The first five entered the simulation zone – now formed as an office room – and the red formless creatures appeared again, though in a deeper shade of red that was almost black.

The creatures attacked with little regard for the furniture in the room, even using the items as weapons. The trainees were doing everything they could to defeat the creatures. One, two, three went down, leaving two remaining. The trainees quickly finished those, then rematerialized outside of the simulation zone once the last creature had vanished.

The same played out with the other three groups, though in the last, four of the trainees were defeated with only two of the creatures down. The one remaining managed to hold out for a few minutes more, taking another two creatures out, but failed to finish the job. Gary was still impressed that he had lasted as long as he had, and was considering that an automatic pass to the next test.

After reviewing the statistics of those last fights, he had the eight he wanted – having chosen three of the trainees from the first group.

“Those selected will now take up arms against each other in a free-for-all. However, the idea isn’t to be the last one standing. It’s about the skills you use to attack and defend, and how you approach the fight. If you are ready, head to a panel and prepare to enter the final test.”

The eight selected trainees stood next to a panel with left wrists raised to shoulder height.

“Form the simulation.”

A varied amount of colours started building in the simulation zone, rising up from the ground, until several brightly coloured structures had formed.

“A play park?” one of the trainees asked in a cynical tone.

“Learning to fight in varied places is essential,” Gary said, surprised at the outburst. “Every time you train, the battlefield is different. Just as in the real world, you could end up fighting in a place similar. Never forget that.” Gary turned back to those who waited to enter. Upon giving the command, they placed their wrist panels against those of the simulation zone’s, and materialised inside.

Standing in a circle as best as possible with the structures of the play park, none of the trainees had drawn a sword. Gary smiled, knowing this would be interesting.

“Begin.”

Upon that word, seven of the trainees launched into the fight, with the eighth – the one who had survived from the final group – sidestepping to the right and climbing the steps of the slide.

In the scuffle that was now happening, it was a tangle of arms and a few kicks planted, but nothing was breaking them apart.

One of the group was thrown to the side, and it was that which broke the group up. A female with red hair streaked with blue leapt onto one of the swings. It flew into the air, hit its apex, then swept back down. At its lowest point, the female let go and flew through the air to land an attack, which was only narrowly avoided by her target. She landed in a crouch, and blocked the counter-attack that had been aimed at her.

The one on the slide had seen an opportunity and flung himself down it, using the speed as he hit the bottom to power an attack into two others who had ventured into line with it. The two he hit were pushed back – one hitting the floor – and when they looked for where the attack had come from, their attacker had already launched himself up and was scrambling to get on top of a climbing frame.

The first defeat came when the female used a seesaw to distract an opponent – having stepped onto the lowest side then ran across it when one of the trainees came to attack. That lowest point had lifted and tripped the other, which the female took advantage of and reduced the other’s energy to zero. He respawned outside the simulation zone, and stepped back to watch.

Another of the trainees was making progress, having tackled the two who had previously been hit. He was stepping to the left and right, dodging the attacks of the other two – who had now seemingly teamed up – and striking when he could. An opportunity arose to destroy the temporary alliance, and he took it, deflecting the attack of one into the other. The latter pushed the other away, in which that one then attacked, leaving them open to attack from the one who had broke them apart. Within a few hits, both despawned.

That male then moved up onto the climbing frame, to get at the one who was still there. He hadn’t moved since his last attack, but he noticed the one approaching him.

Gary noticed a few things between these two. The one climbing had dark shadows around his eyes, but this seemed a permanent fixture rather than any form of illness or injury. These eyes were looking determined, locked onto the other up top.

And this one was also an interesting one, since he was waiting for opportunities rather than making them. His face was paler than the others, and he looked at the one who climbed with a blank expression. Gary noticed a few moments before it happened that his body was in waiting to make a leap down.

As eye-shadow, as Gary named him, made a grab for pale-face’s foot, the latter let go of the rope he was holding. Falling forward, the hand that had previously held rope now had a grip on eye-shadow’s hand and pulled him down to the ground. They both hit with a thud, and eye-shadow beat pale-face to standing by mere seconds. Pale-face didn’t have time to fully orient himself, as eye-shadow was already upon him.

Red-hair was making progress on the other trainees still left while the two males fought each other. Again pale-face was holding out longer than Gary had expected him to against a stronger opponent, but still he fell. All it took was reacting that bit later to a kick thrown out to defeat him. Red-hair had taken out the remaining two trainees, so it was just her and eye-shadow left.

The two met in an area of the play park that hadn’t been used yet. The wooden bridge had two slopes on either end that curved ninety degrees to face the rest of the park, and within the middle had two slides – one straight and one spiral.

Red-hair and eye-shadow side-stepped up the slopes of the bridge until they faced each other near the middle. Neither reacted, but the tension to strike was high. Gary knew this would more than likely be a one attack finish.

The tension was broke by eye-shadow, who charged forward with his right arm held up across his forehead as though to pin the other against the side. Red-hair grabbed that arm, but then eye-shadow’s left fist came up to strike. With both of her hands holding his right, the only thing she could do was twist out of the way. Still holding onto eye-shadow though, she used the momentum of that twist to throw him down the slide. Still holding his arm, the two tumbled down the straight slide until they hit the bottom, where she came up victorious and dug both knees into him. However, his left fist had managed to strike her side, leaving neither a true victor.


Space Race Championship
Two spacecraft waited together at the starting line within the cruiser’s hangar bay. The improvised line was nothing more than two mini cruisers parked either side of the two ‘craft.

The first ‘craft was a Galaxy model – designation Y/26t. Oblong in shape, it had a rear rectangular section that fit around the control cabin’s viewshield – which was also oblong in shape. The other ‘craft was a Rotablade – designation G/0ld5n. A rectangular shape with rounded corners, it had a tubular rotating blade set either side that were as long as the ‘craft itself. These were auto-defence weaponry emplacements, but were disabled at the moment. This ‘craft also had an oblong shaped viewshield.

The two mini cruisers flashed their lights, and the pilots of the ‘craft lifted them up and shot out of the hangar.

There was a lot of clutter that the two racers dodged around – the pilot of the Rotablade doing better than that of the Galaxy. Numerous lights marked the way for the racers, and as the ‘craft sped past the lights changed colour.

The Rotablade was in danger of smashing straight into the hulk of a damaged mini cruiser, but a quick drop was all that was needed to avoid it. There was the issue of more debris beyond it, but the Rotablade smashed through all of it without a care in the world.

When the Galaxy hit this point, it rose above instead of going below, and seemed content to stay above most of the debris. It was forced back into the debris field when one of the sections of a cruisers floated into its path. It tried to dodge around the debris instead of going through it, which caused it to lose some speed.

The distance between the two ‘craft had increased. The Rotablade was now within the outer limits of an asteroid field, effortlessly flying through them. After passing a few more, it was out of the field and hugging the plating of a cruiser as it travelled down the length of it.

The next light indicated the start of a structure that the racers needed to travel through. It was large enough, and looked as though it was a cruiser in the process of being built. Or at least had been, as it had been abandoned considering the angle of it.

The Rotablade flew straight in, being completely aware of the girders that made up the structure. Despite that awareness, it didn’t stop the ‘craft from clipping one of them. The pilot was quick to react and saved it from colliding into a second.

The Galaxy had now opened up in speed, having hit the asteroid field. It made it through without hitting any, but there had been a few close calls. Then it was flying the length of the cruiser. The Galaxy had made sure to keep a larger gap between the two than the Rotablade had. When it reached the structure, it slowed down to enter, and kept that speed while traversing through.

The Rotablade was almost back to the cruiser, following the last few lights that created a winding path back to the hangar it had first started at. It was still paying no mind to the debris scattered around, and was able to bank and turn hard to avoid larger obstacles. It slowed down to enter the hangar at the same time the Galaxy exited the structure of the abandoned cruiser.

It took about a minute more for the Galaxy to follow the path and enter the cruiser to land as well.

When both had landed, a results screen appeared with the time both had taken to complete the course.

“And it’s a victory for the current champion!” a voice rang out.

The screens of light dispersed, revealing two boys sat on chairs with a controller in hand.

“Will the current champion be beaten sometime soon?” the other of the two stated. “Tune in next time when we race in about… Five minutes?”

“The current champion will not be beaten,” Tom Hughs said. “Not if the competition refuse to push their ‘craft to the max.”

“I just don’t feel I can react fast enough,” Lee Johnson responded.

“If you are used to the controls and the way something feels, you should be able to react no matter what speed you’re going.”

“And I always try.” Lee looked around the room, picturing the race that had just happened. The he looked back further to the last time he had pushed to near the max.

It hadn’t ended well for him.

The game was a tie-in to the most popular event of the world they lived. One which happened once every five years. As it turned out, this was the year in which the next was to happen. Lee hadn’t mentioned anything about it yet, but the news had confirmed the selection of the entrants for this year had happened. Within a week, those names would be revealed, and the hype for the event would begin fully.

“So, are we getting to a new race?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Lee replied. “But wouldn’t it be great to be entered into the event for real?”

“As much fun as it would be, what chance do we stand without a spacecraft of our own?”

“We could get one easily.”

“Nah… I couldn’t see myself entering one. I’d be the youngest with the least amount of skill.”

“Age is no proof of skill. You manage yourself great in the game, and you have the knowledge of flying that is sure to help. We have our pilot licences. It wouldn’t be too much trouble to enter.”

“Doing good in a game does not translate to doing good in reality, even with the knowledge we have. And we already missed the application date, even if we have the licences.”

Somehow the more obvious reasoning for the questioning had bypassed Tom. That was fine by Lee.

He wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, after all.

As the next game was set up and the lights that projected the game returned, Lee thought a bit more about the event. Both he and Tom were sixteen, so only remembered the last time it had started. In fact, it was that year that the two had met.

Competitors could be anyone, so long as they were not affiliated with any company involved with the event. The mix of people from last year had been interesting, with some obviously being new to the whole idea of flying. The first event was always the same, and tested the full range of a pilot’s skill. The other events all had something to do with the central theme of racing, with the final race being a long one.

The excitement around the event was always strong before, during, and after – lasting almost the entire year. And this year was sure to be an even better event than the last time, owing to the fact several new developments had been made in space-faring technology over the last few years.

The two hadn’t made much talk about it yet, but Lee knew the day was coming up. The day they’d be caught up in the excitement and be talking about the Space Race Championship.


In the future, I'll probably post some of my ideas from my blog here as well. The most recent one being an open-world racing RPG.

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OrangeRakoon
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by OrangeRakoon » Tue May 08, 2018 4:08 pm

Thanks for the comments :toot:

Is that Space Race Championship F-zero inspired?

Also have you watched Redline? You should watch Redline.

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by Brerlappin » Wed May 09, 2018 4:05 pm

I need to finish My Steven Segal book

BIRTHDAY SNATCHER
The Steven Seagal Chronicles

PART 1
THE MADNESS OF STEVEN SEAGAL
1.
Steven Seagal reclined in his swivel Chair. The smell of Tacos hung in the air like London Smog. His corpulent belly collapsed over the waistband of sweatpants that were covered in food stains like chalk outlines of murder victims. A belch was forming in his guts, rumbling like a V8 engine just warming up. It crept slowly up his chest; he could feel it gestate, growing in size, ready to be released into the noxious air of his apartment. There it would join its myriad compatriots that had been burped into existence like a gracefully soaring cloud of food fumes, only for their lives to be cruelly snuffed out after one brief, beautiful moment, like disgusting mayflies.

"The hardest thing about being Steven Seagal", he mumbled to an empty room through a mouth cluttered with Taco mess, his double chin concealing Goatee covered in food morsels like dead Soldiers hung on barbed wire, "is that only Steven Seagal understands what it's like to be Steven Seagal".
The blubber concealing Goatee, how he hated it. Born of necessity, now it was his defining characteristic, not his incredible Aikido skills, or his acting talent so often overlooked or outright snubbed by Hollywood executives, and not his famous skills as a lover of Women, but his Fat concealing Goatee.
At first it was just a stubble patch, cleverly cultivated to hide that nagging shadow of double chin that had crept onto his neck like some unwanted scarf of fat. Surely a few Aikido workouts would remove it, he had thought. The Goatee would only be a stop gap solution until he could shed a few pounds, regain his handsome features, and maybe land a nice Hollywood contract. It would be a renaissance the likes of which had not been seen since John Travolta in Pulp Fiction, or New Coke after that Cherry gooseberry fool. But the chin grew ever more Walrus-like, and the Goatee now struggled to conceal it. A few more centimetres and it would be less Goatee, and more full on neckbeard. A facial hair camouflage for a decade or more of fast food excess. But Seagal knew it was still working. The Goatee hid his blubbery neck perfectly. Most people he met had no idea he was even overweight. Only the stench of General Tso's chicken arising off him like early morning Fog occasionally blew his cover.

It was times like these that most people would have questioned the decisions that led them to this path in life. His Ass bulging over the side of the swivel chair, like play d'oh being squeezed through a sieve, his Pizza stained sweatpants fighting against all odds to contain his girth, surrounded by the debris of a thousand take away meals, burrito wrappers flitting around his feet like the Ghosts of long lost Friends, Seagal was utterly alone in this world. An Outcast, abandoned by all and forgotten like his post-1990's Cinematic output.


The world needs to know how this ends

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by OrangeRakoon » Wed May 09, 2018 4:43 pm

Beautiful, much like Steven Seagal's lead performance as top narcotics officer Bobby Samuels in the 2010 direct-to-video hit Born to Raise Hell.

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by Brerlappin » Wed May 09, 2018 5:21 pm

OrangeRakoon wrote:top narcotics officer Bobby Samuels in the 2010 direct-to-video hit Born to Raise Hell.


makes mental note to include that in the book

I have like a novellas worth written that i did for nanowrimo last year :lol: I really need to finish it i just need to actually maybe figure out what the hell the plot is about first

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by DarkRula » Wed May 09, 2018 5:55 pm

OrangeRakoon wrote:Is that Space Race Championship F-zero inspired?

Also have you watched Redline? You should watch Redline.


SRC isn't F-Zero inspired. But in a way, you could sort of say it was, since the inspiration came the pod-racing in Star Wars and how that would work with spacecraft. I'm adapting that idea much the same as Elemental Heroes was adapted from the idea I had for Power Rangers with Pokémon types as powers. I had some interesting ideas back in '06-'08.

As for Redline, I haven't seen it, but I'll take a look.

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Death's Head
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by Death's Head » Wed May 09, 2018 6:22 pm

I need to get on with writing my James Bond musical. So far I only have part of the tune for the end of Act 1.

Yes?
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Tafdolphin
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by Tafdolphin » Fri May 11, 2018 2:12 pm

Hardly literary, but after being thoroughly begruntled by God of War's tiny text, I took a brief foray into the wild world of gaming UIs

https://pretentiousquote.wordpress.com/ ... teresting/

This supplements my (soon to be) ongoing diary into making my own wee Interactive Fiction game

https://pretentiousquote.wordpress.com/ ... /progress/

Gemini73 wrote:Yes your are a sanctimonious twat

Bloggy blog blog blog.

Night Call: a game what I worked on
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OrangeRakoon
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by OrangeRakoon » Fri May 11, 2018 2:38 pm

I wasn't going to read that as I haven't played GoW, but I'm glad I did - it was really interesting and I learned something!

I can think of some other examples that would be interesting to explore following that read.

1) Minecraft's map item. In a game that is happy to be present the player with menus and HUD elements, the map is an in-game item that is cumbersome to use, requiring the player to not only equip it but also look down to see it. It's one of the most awkwardly designed elements of the game in my opinion.

2) ZombiU, with the gamepad acting as the inventory screen making for an actual physical involvement of the player in the game that elevates the tension.

As for the interactive fiction game, I'm super interested in following that along, so please do post here when you have updates. The current web game I'm working on is practically interactive fiction itself, being a text rpg written in (bad) haikus and rhyming couplets.

One note - it starts with "You open the program" and ends with "test the programme itself" ;)

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kerr9000
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by kerr9000 » Fri May 11, 2018 4:13 pm

Nice to see someone mention nanowrimo I tried that a bunch of times but only managed it twice... Kinda stopped writing now as I sort of burned out.

http://kerr9000.blogspot.co.uk/ For my Blog... https://www.youtube.com/user/kerr9000 for my YouTube channel. kerr9000_blog on Instagram. kerr9000 on Xbox, PS4 etc
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by Tafdolphin » Tue May 15, 2018 4:30 pm

Emjoyed myself trolling the strawberry float out of Hime, who consistently fails to grasp this fact. Guest appearance by Preezy, who does.

Hime wrote:I honestly don't know how someone could be disappointed by Dunkirk and The Dark Knight Rises yet defend The Last Jedi so passionately.

Are you sure you watched the opening scene in TLJ?


I did. And I laughed. Not just at the perfectly acceptable humour but at the inevitable tears from those not possessing of sense or perspective, who would cry from the rooftops their tortuous disdain. And as the hearty, clapping waves pearled from my throat I was content, for I saw my inevitable exile before me, looked into its eyes and spat my laughter in its face.

Hime wrote:
Yeah your right, it's a sense of perspective that stops the awful humour from being good.

On the plus side you must get a great deal of satisfaction out of literally any comedic moments in film. I would imagine the lack of any sort of controversy would negatively affect your enjoyment though.


So soon the hour rolls around again. I rouse myself from an ever deepening slumber and stumble to the fireplace. With trembling digits I extract the Tear Jar from its awnings, smoothing the dust from its hellish surface. I smile mirthlessly at the darkness.

Harvest time has come.


Preezy wrote:Taf, very illustrative :lol:

TLJ was utter gash though :dread:


The struggle is mercifully short. As the crystalline pearl slides into the infernal Jar, with it go the screams and the caterwauling and the pain. Silence settles on the world like a blanket and I release my grip. The Jar shutters itself with a whispered curse and its cruel warmth fills my heart. The body seems to float to the floor, defeat written across its posture like an unholy sermon. I force back another laugh and make out into the night.

Preezy wrote:Rose was a gooseberry fool character, such a stain on the legacy of a once-great franchise :dread:


A special night this one. The Jar has become a part of me, as inseparable from my own flesh as these eyes that now, unbidden, begin to water. But tonight, it is not enough. A dread chill runs through me as I loosen the straps on the black box. The device moves as if possessed of some hellish locomotion and in fear my hands stumble. The lid of the Thing yawns open for but a second:

"Four female Ghostbuster? My childhood is RUINED!"
"A woman Jedi? UUUURGH!!"
"I'm not sexist, women just aren't as funny as MEN ARE!"

With all haste I slam shut the jaws of the box. Three wisps of canker green smoke escape into the night, work for another time. But now...now I must see to this one.


Hime wrote:Progress at least that this attempt at controversy creation has just gone all out obnoxious without the need for all the self righteous patter.


My breath came in ragged bursts, my throat ripped and torn. Though they saw, they had not heeded the words. Blithely one stood before the throng. To his forehead was pinned a crude image of a man, his hand curved into a circle, digits extended. The sign of the Nemesis. From the figure's mouth poured a torrent of sound; unintelligible nonsense that rattled the bones and smote the earth. No-one there gathered understood his ranting but himself, and he alone appeared satisfied with the tirade.

I readied myself. My arms shook and my chest heaved but I was prepared. Tonight would be the death of one of us, of that I was sure. I tensed and made ready with The Jar.

Before I could act the world itself was torn asunder. The ground rose in a torrent and curled beneath the lone figure as a mother beckoning an errant child to its bosom. A million ghouls wailed in pain, a thousand worlds exploded in a haze of light and heat and a dozen gods shattered before me. The figure was consumed by the Light, the image upon his head twisting and burning. Before he sunk below, returned to his place in the Cosmos, the Light entered his mind and I saw a terrible realisation wash across his face:

"The whole thing...the story entire! It...was in good humour?!"

Last edited by Tafdolphin on Tue May 15, 2018 4:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Gemini73 wrote:Yes your are a sanctimonious twat

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Night Call: a game what I worked on
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Hime
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by Hime » Tue May 15, 2018 4:33 pm

Tafdolphin wrote:Emjoyed myself trolling the strawberry float out of Hime, who consistently fails to grasp this fact. Guest appearance by Preezy, who does.

Hime wrote:I honestly don't know how someone could be disappointed by Dunkirk and The Dark Knight Rises yet defend The Last Jedi so passionately.

Are you sure you watched the opening scene in TLJ?


I did. And I laughed. Not just at the perfectly acceptable humour but at the inevitable tears from those not possessing of sense or perspective, who would cry from the rooftops their tortuous disdain. And as the hearty, clapping waves pearled from my throat I was content, for I saw my inevitable exile before me, looked into its eyes and spat my laughter in its face.

Hime wrote:
Yeah your right, it's a sense of perspective that stops the awful humour from being good.

On the plus side you must get a great deal of satisfaction out of literally any comedic moments in film. I would imagine the lack of any sort of controversy would negatively affect your enjoyment though.


So soon the hour rolls around again. I rouse myself from an ever deepening slumber and stumble to the fireplace. With trembling digits I extract the Tear Jar from its awnings, smoothing the dust from its hellish surface. I smile mirthlessly at the darkness.

Harvest time has come.


Preezy wrote:Taf, very illustrative :lol:

TLJ was utter gash though :dread:


The struggle is mercifully short. As the crystalline pearl slides into the infernal Jar, with it go the screams and the caterwauling and the pain. Silence settles on the world like a blanket and I release my grip. The Jar shutters itself with a whispered curse and its cruel warmth fills my heart. The body seems to float to the floor, defeat written across its posture like an unholy sermon. I force back another laugh and make out into the night.

Preezy wrote:Rose was a gooseberry fool character, such a stain on the legacy of a once-great franchise :dread:


A special night this one. The Jar has become a part of me, as inseparable from my own flesh as these eyes that now, unbidden, begin to water. But tonight, it is not enough. A dread chill runs through me as I loosen the straps on the black box. The device moves as if possessed of some hellish locomotion and in fear my hands stumble. The lid of the Thing yawns open for but a second:

"Four female Ghostbuster? My childhood is RUINED!"
"A woman Jedi? UUUURGH!!"
"I'm not sexist, women just aren't as funny as MEN ARE!"

With all haste I slam shut the jaws of the box. Three wisps of canker green smoke escape into the night, work for another time. But now...now I must see to [i]this one
.[/i]

Hime wrote:Progress at least that this attempt at controversy creation has just gone all out obnoxious without the need for all the self righteous patter.


My breath came in ragged bursts, my throat ripped and torn. Though they saw, they had not heeded the words. Blithely one stood before the throng. To his forehead was pinned a crude image of a man, his hand curved into a circle, digits extended. The sign of the Nemesis. From the figure's mouth poured a torrent of sound; unintelligible nonsense that rattled the bones and smote the earth. No-one there gathered understood his ranting but himself, and he alone appeared satisfied with the tirade.

I readied myself. My arms shook and my chest heaved but I was prepared. Tonight would be the death of one of us, of that I was sure. I tensed and made ready with The Jar.

Before I could act the world itself was torn asunder. The ground rose in a torrent and curled beneath the lone figure as a mother beckoning an errant child to its bosom. A million ghouls wailed in pain, a thousand worlds exploded in a haze of light and heat and a dozen gods shattered before me. The figure was consumed by the Light, the image upon his head twisting and burning. Before he sunk below, returned to his place in the Cosmos, the Light entered his mind and I saw a terrible realisation wash across his face:

"The whole thing...the story entire! It...was in good humour?!"

Yeah you really fooled me, I won't meet try and engage your obnoxious posts next time and let you bathe in your superiority.

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Preezy
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by Preezy » Tue May 15, 2018 5:32 pm

Tafdolphin wrote:Emjoyed myself trolling the strawberry float out of Hime, who consistently fails to grasp this fact. Guest appearance by Preezy, who does.

Hime wrote:I honestly don't know how someone could be disappointed by Dunkirk and The Dark Knight Rises yet defend The Last Jedi so passionately.

Are you sure you watched the opening scene in TLJ?


I did. And I laughed. Not just at the perfectly acceptable humour but at the inevitable tears from those not possessing of sense or perspective, who would cry from the rooftops their tortuous disdain. And as the hearty, clapping waves pearled from my throat I was content, for I saw my inevitable exile before me, looked into its eyes and spat my laughter in its face.

Hime wrote:
Yeah your right, it's a sense of perspective that stops the awful humour from being good.

On the plus side you must get a great deal of satisfaction out of literally any comedic moments in film. I would imagine the lack of any sort of controversy would negatively affect your enjoyment though.


So soon the hour rolls around again. I rouse myself from an ever deepening slumber and stumble to the fireplace. With trembling digits I extract the Tear Jar from its awnings, smoothing the dust from its hellish surface. I smile mirthlessly at the darkness.

Harvest time has come.


Preezy wrote:Taf, very illustrative :lol:

TLJ was utter gash though :dread:


The struggle is mercifully short. As the crystalline pearl slides into the infernal Jar, with it go the screams and the caterwauling and the pain. Silence settles on the world like a blanket and I release my grip. The Jar shutters itself with a whispered curse and its cruel warmth fills my heart. The body seems to float to the floor, defeat written across its posture like an unholy sermon. I force back another laugh and make out into the night.

Preezy wrote:Rose was a gooseberry fool character, such a stain on the legacy of a once-great franchise :dread:


A special night this one. The Jar has become a part of me, as inseparable from my own flesh as these eyes that now, unbidden, begin to water. But tonight, it is not enough. A dread chill runs through me as I loosen the straps on the black box. The device moves as if possessed of some hellish locomotion and in fear my hands stumble. The lid of the Thing yawns open for but a second:

"Four female Ghostbuster? My childhood is RUINED!"
"A woman Jedi? UUUURGH!!"
"I'm not sexist, women just aren't as funny as MEN ARE!"

With all haste I slam shut the jaws of the box. Three wisps of canker green smoke escape into the night, work for another time. But now...now I must see to this one.


Hime wrote:Progress at least that this attempt at controversy creation has just gone all out obnoxious without the need for all the self righteous patter.


My breath came in ragged bursts, my throat ripped and torn. Though they saw, they had not heeded the words. Blithely one stood before the throng. To his forehead was pinned a crude image of a man, his hand curved into a circle, digits extended. The sign of the Nemesis. From the figure's mouth poured a torrent of sound; unintelligible nonsense that rattled the bones and smote the earth. No-one there gathered understood his ranting but himself, and he alone appeared satisfied with the tirade.

I readied myself. My arms shook and my chest heaved but I was prepared. Tonight would be the death of one of us, of that I was sure. I tensed and made ready with The Jar.

Before I could act the world itself was torn asunder. The ground rose in a torrent and curled beneath the lone figure as a mother beckoning an errant child to its bosom. A million ghouls wailed in pain, a thousand worlds exploded in a haze of light and heat and a dozen gods shattered before me. The figure was consumed by the Light, the image upon his head twisting and burning. Before he sunk below, returned to his place in the Cosmos, the Light entered his mind and I saw a terrible realisation wash across his face:

"The whole thing...the story entire! It...was in good humour?!"

Sparring with you was certainly more enjoyable than sitting through the utter turd that was TLJ, you have quite the gift for creative writing.

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Kezzer
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by Kezzer » Tue May 15, 2018 6:18 pm

Platform Four 


I was standing alone on platform four
When I decided to let out, an arsehole roar
With a slight bend in my kness I began to release
But instead, I shat all over the floor.

I realise my mistake of trying to fart
But didn't expect that fateful shart
"If only I'd been wearing some toursers!" - I cried

Then at least I could have lied
"Its gravy, I swear! Its not my fault!"
I spilt some on myself whilst coming to an abrupt hault.

But here I am on platform four
Bollock naked with gooseberry fool on the floor

As a single tear forms in my eye
I awake from my slumber and let out a sigh
It was a dream you see! It was all in my head!

But even so, I still managed to piss the bed.

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