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 Posted: Fri Jul 20, 2007 2:25 pm
Kind of spawned from my weekly paragraph competition, because the Guild does need a contest to get started.
Prize: 1200 for first place, 600 for second place, 100 for third and fourth place
Entry fee: 100 gold, send it to me in a Trade request and let me know what it's for.
Deadline: This contest will be every two weeks, so Friday 3rd August, 5:00 PM London Time (there are several websites that will give you world time zones).
The Rules (dun-dun-duuuuuuuuuun!!!):
I give you a word, you produce a piece of writing based on that word. It can be anything, just so long as it can be related to the word. It doesn't actually have to include that word. It must be 60-600 words long. It can be any number of paragraphs, conversation, anything.
Writing must be original fiction (ie, not fanfiction), any genre is permitted. No graphic sex, swearing is permitted but must be partially blanked (eg. sh*t). Homosexuality is permitted. No text talk, please. You can post comments on entries here as well, but no flaming or spamming.
The prompt for this contest is:
"Fan"
Any questions? PM me.
How to enter: PM me a copy of your entry, and post another copy here. Include in the PM your word count and if you've already paid the entry fee. Please put "one word prompts" as the subject. I'm running more than one contest, so this makes it easier for me. Thanks!
I'll post the winner here at the given time and also notify them by PM. If you do not PM me your entry I may or may not notice it. I don't want to not give a really good entry the prize it deserved because I didn't notice it.
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Posted: Sun Jul 22, 2007 8:19 am
Wooo a chance for me to be pedantic... Annetia How to enter: PM me a copy of the paragraph you enter, and post another copy here. Include in the PM your word count and if you've already paid the entry fee. Please put "one word prompts" as the subject. I'm running more than one contest, so this makes it easier for me. Thanks! Didn't you say it could be more than a paragraph? ^^ Sorry Annetia, I can be terrible when it comes to contradictions/spellings/grammar, etc etc etc... I'll be entering btw, once I've got a new hairstyle...
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Intoxicating Remembrances
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Posted: Sun Jul 22, 2007 9:29 am
Hana pressed her back firmly against the brick wall. The load roaring of the sirens were starting to hurt her ears and she desperately wanted to get this over with. She gripped the fans in her hands tightly and the skin stretched white over her knuckles. Off in the distance she could hear people yelling commands and fighting. She slid against the cold brick wall until she got to the corner. She poked her head around; bad timing. Someone from the enemy village spotted her and ran into the ally.
“Crap!” She lifted her fans up in front of her and fell into a fighting stance.
“Prepare to die,” She whispered behind her mask. All the enemies were required to wear black cloth across their face. Hana thought it was tack and quite unreasonable. She didn’t want to fight this village for fear that her friend may be forced to kill her. As if she could.
“Always,” She said, smirking. “Please, before we fight, take off that mask.” Her enemy’s eyes grew wide and she shook her head. Hana removed the navy mask that had shielded her face. “Suit yourself.”
The other female pulled out her sword and charged Hana. She thrust the sword straight at Hana and it would have been a painful shot had Hana not moved. She was too quick and she slid easily behind the girl without her noticing. She whacked her upside the head with her fan. The size of the fans pushed the girl into a wall.
“Pay attention!” Hana mocked. The girl stood there on the defensive as Han charged her. She swung her right fan at the girls face and cut her right below her left eye. The blood dripped down and soaked into her face cloth. “D*mn. I missed. Lets try again,” Hana continued to throw her fans toward the girls face. It wasn’t working too well. The girl had blocked all her shots with her sword. Hana thought of a new tactic. She did as she was taught and used her hand fans to disarm the girl. Her sword went flying and clanged against the ground as it fell. She then put her fans back into the slits on her black leather belt and proceeded to throw punches at the girl.
“Why aren’t you fighting back?! Attack me!” Hana shouted over the loud siren.
“I-I can’t!” The girl replied between punches. Hana stopped and looked at the bleeding girl in front of her. There wasn’t much of a difference between them. They were both wearing the traditional fighter’s clothes. Their hair was pulled back into a high bun with hair sticks shoved through it. “Hana, I don’t want to fight you.”
“You can’t…” Hana’s voice trailed off as the horror struck her. She took the fans out of her belt and quickly cut the face mask off her opponent. As the black cloth floated to the ground, she looked up.
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Posted: Sun Jul 22, 2007 9:39 am
Skitrel Wooo a chance for me to be pedantic... Annetia How to enter: PM me a copy of the paragraph you enter, and post another copy here. Include in the PM your word count and if you've already paid the entry fee. Please put "one word prompts" as the subject. I'm running more than one contest, so this makes it easier for me. Thanks! Didn't you say it could be more than a paragraph? ^^ Sorry Annetia, I can be terrible when it comes to contradictions/spellings/grammar, etc etc etc... I'll be entering btw, once I've got a new hairstyle...
Yes, it can be more than a paragraph. Sorry about that.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 7:02 am
I do believe I want to enter this contest. But I am unsure of what ways we are permitted to bend the word prompt.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 9:34 am
Ink_Weaver_Heart I do believe I want to enter this contest. But I am unsure of what ways we are permitted to bend the word prompt.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 9:37 am
Annetia Ink_Weaver_Heart I do believe I want to enter this contest. But I am unsure of what ways we are permitted to bend the word prompt.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 10:32 am
Ink_Weaver_Heart Annetia Ink_Weaver_Heart I do believe I want to enter this contest. But I am unsure of what ways we are permitted to bend the word prompt.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 12:15 pm
Is it alright if we exceed the word limit. Say by... 16 words? I could shorten it if not.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 1:15 pm
Title: F.A.N.
The rain outside was streaking down the window pane like lightening. The pitch black office room was hardly where Felicia Namson wanted to be that night. She much would have rather been at home in her warm apartment, trying to keep her cat away from the chicken she would be cooking. But this wasn't the case.
Dressed in formal attire, she pressed her ear against the cold wooden door to listen to the commotion in the hall. Footsteps faded in and she heard some men talking in broken English. They seemed to be arguing about something, and apparently it was something trivial, for a man with a commanding voice cut through the quarreling and shouted some harsh instructions. The voices as well as the footsteps faded out and disappeared completely.
The woman crept out of the office and unsheathed a dagger from a hidden strap on her thigh. She twirled it almost lovingly, and used it to pick the lock of a stairwell entrance. With the picture of the blueprints fresh in mind, she climbed the winding stairs until she reached the proper floor, to which she entered.
Unlike the floor she had just come from, this one was dark and consisted of only a few doors. She confidently strode the end of the short hall and paused at an unlocked before proceeding through it. She wielded the dagger high in the air, and, as if it was a torch, advanced into the darkness before her.
The lights in the room snapped on and behind the desk was a squat man with his finger on a light switch. She paused, evaluating the situation, trying to see if she had a good angle to strike.
"Felicia," He said calmly. "So glad we have this chance to... catch up. I'm sure that you've met my dear friend James?" He spun the office chair around and strapped in it was a man that Felicia immediately recognized as her fiancé.
Felicia's heart jumped to her throat and her veins surged with hot guilt; an emotion that she wasn't supposed to feel on this job. The lightening cracked loudly and the dagger she held dropped to her side. She started towards him but was halted mid-step by the gun that was raised ever so casually from the standing man’s pocket so that it sat level with her abdomen.
“You know, it’s funny,” The man began confidently. “I thought it would be hard to find you. But as it turns out, I didn’t need to find you; just him.” He turned the gun on James. “Does your fiancé even know about your profession? Your… job? I mean, being a government assassin can’t be an easily hidden secret.” The man that Felicia only knew from hastily taken photos looked down at James, obviously expecting a reaction of sorts. But he wasn’t going to get one.
Felicia expertly dropped her dagger onto her foot, and tossed it under the table. It landed harmlessly in James’ lap.
Sensing movement, the man’s eyes darted to Felicia, whose calm composure gave away nothing. Yet within seconds, James was standing behind the man with Felicia’s dagger at his throat, and the gun was sliding across the floor.
“You know, it’s funny,” Felicia recited. “I thought it would be hard to kill you. But as it turns out, my fiancé chose the same proffesion.”
After a quick thrust and a flash of silver, the man was on the ground. Felicia went to her future husband and took the knife from his hands. As was tradition with each successful mission, she closed the door as she went out, and carved her initials into the door.
F.A.N.
~Felicia Anne Namson
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 1:35 pm
Ink_Weaver_Heart Title: F.A.N.The rain outside was streaking down the window pane like lightening. The pitch black office room was hardly where Felicia Namson wanted to be that night. She much would have rather been at home in her warm apartment, trying to keep her cat away from the chicken she would be cooking. But this wasn't the case.
Dressed in formal attire, she pressed her ear against the cold wooden door to listen to the commotion in the hall. Footsteps faded in and she heard some men talking in broken English. They seemed to be arguing about something, and apparently it was something trivial, for a man with a commanding voice cut through the quarreling and shouted some harsh instructions. The voices as well as the footsteps faded out and disappeared completely.
The woman crept out of the office and unsheathed a dagger from a hidden strap on her thigh. She twirled it almost lovingly, and used it to pick the lock of a stairwell entrance. With the picture of the blueprints fresh in mind, she climbed the winding stairs until she reached the proper floor, to which she entered.
Unlike the floor she had just come from, this one was dark and consisted of only a few doors. She confidently strode the end of the short hall and paused at an unlocked before proceeding through it. She wielded the dagger high in the air, and, as if it was a torch, advanced into the darkness before her.
The lights in the room snapped on and behind the desk was a squat man with his finger on a light switch. She paused, evaluating the situation, trying to see if she had a good angle to strike.
"Felicia," He said calmly. "So glad we have this chance to... catch up. I'm sure that you've met my dear friend James?" He spun the office chair around and strapped in it was a man that Felicia immediately recognized as her fiancé.
Felicia's heart jumped to her throat and her veins surged with hot guilt; an emotion that she wasn't supposed to feel on this job. The lightening cracked loudly and the dagger she held dropped to her side. She started towards him but was halted mid-step by the gun that was raised ever so casually from the standing man’s pocket so that it sat level with her abdomen.
“You know, it’s funny,” The man began confidently. “I thought it would be hard to find you. But as it turns out, I didn’t need to find you; just him.” He turned the gun on James. “Does your fiancé even know about your profession? Your… job? I mean, being a government assassin can’t be an easily hidden secret.” The man that Felicia only knew from hastily taken photos looked down at James, obviously expecting a reaction of sorts. But he wasn’t going to get one.
Felicia expertly dropped her dagger onto her foot, and tossed it under the table. It landed harmlessly in James’ lap.
Sensing movement, the man’s eyes darted to Felicia, whose calm composure gave away nothing. Yet within seconds, James was standing behind the man with Felicia’s dagger at his throat, and the gun was sliding across the floor.
“You know, it’s funny,” Felicia recited. “I thought it would be hard to kill you. But as it turns out, my fiancé chose the same proffesion.”
After a quick thrust and a flash of silver, the man was on the ground. Felicia went to her future husband and took the knife from his hands. As was tradition with each successful mission, she closed the door as she went out, and carved her initials into the door.
F.A.N.
~Felicia Anne Namson Ink, I know you wanted me to read this, but I'm going to have to stick to simple things for the rest of the night, I've drank far too much wine already and everything's a bit blurry. I'll have a good read tomorrow though...
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 1:43 pm
Skitrel Ink_Weaver_Heart Title: F.A.N.The rain outside was streaking down the window pane like lightening. The pitch black office room was hardly where Felicia Namson wanted to be that night. She much would have rather been at home in her warm apartment, trying to keep her cat away from the chicken she would be cooking. But this wasn't the case.
Dressed in formal attire, she pressed her ear against the cold wooden door to listen to the commotion in the hall. Footsteps faded in and she heard some men talking in broken English. They seemed to be arguing about something, and apparently it was something trivial, for a man with a commanding voice cut through the quarreling and shouted some harsh instructions. The voices as well as the footsteps faded out and disappeared completely.
The woman crept out of the office and unsheathed a dagger from a hidden strap on her thigh. She twirled it almost lovingly, and used it to pick the lock of a stairwell entrance. With the picture of the blueprints fresh in mind, she climbed the winding stairs until she reached the proper floor, to which she entered.
Unlike the floor she had just come from, this one was dark and consisted of only a few doors. She confidently strode the end of the short hall and paused at an unlocked before proceeding through it. She wielded the dagger high in the air, and, as if it was a torch, advanced into the darkness before her.
The lights in the room snapped on and behind the desk was a squat man with his finger on a light switch. She paused, evaluating the situation, trying to see if she had a good angle to strike.
"Felicia," He said calmly. "So glad we have this chance to... catch up. I'm sure that you've met my dear friend James?" He spun the office chair around and strapped in it was a man that Felicia immediately recognized as her fiancé.
Felicia's heart jumped to her throat and her veins surged with hot guilt; an emotion that she wasn't supposed to feel on this job. The lightening cracked loudly and the dagger she held dropped to her side. She started towards him but was halted mid-step by the gun that was raised ever so casually from the standing man’s pocket so that it sat level with her abdomen.
“You know, it’s funny,” The man began confidently. “I thought it would be hard to find you. But as it turns out, I didn’t need to find you; just him.” He turned the gun on James. “Does your fiancé even know about your profession? Your… job? I mean, being a government assassin can’t be an easily hidden secret.” The man that Felicia only knew from hastily taken photos looked down at James, obviously expecting a reaction of sorts. But he wasn’t going to get one.
Felicia expertly dropped her dagger onto her foot, and tossed it under the table. It landed harmlessly in James’ lap.
Sensing movement, the man’s eyes darted to Felicia, whose calm composure gave away nothing. Yet within seconds, James was standing behind the man with Felicia’s dagger at his throat, and the gun was sliding across the floor.
“You know, it’s funny,” Felicia recited. “I thought it would be hard to kill you. But as it turns out, my fiancé chose the same proffesion.”
After a quick thrust and a flash of silver, the man was on the ground. Felicia went to her future husband and took the knife from his hands. As was tradition with each successful mission, she closed the door as she went out, and carved her initials into the door.
F.A.N.
~Felicia Anne Namson Ink, I know you wanted me to read this, but I'm going to have to stick to simple things for the rest of the night, I've drank far too much wine already and everything's a bit blurry. I'll have a good read tomorrow though...
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 2:04 pm
Ink_Weaver_Heart Skitrel Ink_Weaver_Heart Title: F.A.N.The rain outside was streaking down the window pane like lightening. The pitch black office room was hardly where Felicia Namson wanted to be that night. She much would have rather been at home in her warm apartment, trying to keep her cat away from the chicken she would be cooking. But this wasn't the case.
Dressed in formal attire, she pressed her ear against the cold wooden door to listen to the commotion in the hall. Footsteps faded in and she heard some men talking in broken English. They seemed to be arguing about something, and apparently it was something trivial, for a man with a commanding voice cut through the quarreling and shouted some harsh instructions. The voices as well as the footsteps faded out and disappeared completely.
The woman crept out of the office and unsheathed a dagger from a hidden strap on her thigh. She twirled it almost lovingly, and used it to pick the lock of a stairwell entrance. With the picture of the blueprints fresh in mind, she climbed the winding stairs until she reached the proper floor, to which she entered.
Unlike the floor she had just come from, this one was dark and consisted of only a few doors. She confidently strode the end of the short hall and paused at an unlocked before proceeding through it. She wielded the dagger high in the air, and, as if it was a torch, advanced into the darkness before her.
The lights in the room snapped on and behind the desk was a squat man with his finger on a light switch. She paused, evaluating the situation, trying to see if she had a good angle to strike.
"Felicia," He said calmly. "So glad we have this chance to... catch up. I'm sure that you've met my dear friend James?" He spun the office chair around and strapped in it was a man that Felicia immediately recognized as her fiancé.
Felicia's heart jumped to her throat and her veins surged with hot guilt; an emotion that she wasn't supposed to feel on this job. The lightening cracked loudly and the dagger she held dropped to her side. She started towards him but was halted mid-step by the gun that was raised ever so casually from the standing man’s pocket so that it sat level with her abdomen.
“You know, it’s funny,” The man began confidently. “I thought it would be hard to find you. But as it turns out, I didn’t need to find you; just him.” He turned the gun on James. “Does your fiancé even know about your profession? Your… job? I mean, being a government assassin can’t be an easily hidden secret.” The man that Felicia only knew from hastily taken photos looked down at James, obviously expecting a reaction of sorts. But he wasn’t going to get one.
Felicia expertly dropped her dagger onto her foot, and tossed it under the table. It landed harmlessly in James’ lap.
Sensing movement, the man’s eyes darted to Felicia, whose calm composure gave away nothing. Yet within seconds, James was standing behind the man with Felicia’s dagger at his throat, and the gun was sliding across the floor.
“You know, it’s funny,” Felicia recited. “I thought it would be hard to kill you. But as it turns out, my fiancé chose the same proffesion.”
After a quick thrust and a flash of silver, the man was on the ground. Felicia went to her future husband and took the knife from his hands. As was tradition with each successful mission, she closed the door as she went out, and carved her initials into the door.
F.A.N.
~Felicia Anne Namson Ink, I know you wanted me to read this, but I'm going to have to stick to simple things for the rest of the night, I've drank far too much wine already and everything's a bit blurry. I'll have a good read tomorrow though... Nope, doubt I'll be sleeping much tonight, too much to think about.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 2:11 pm
Skitrel Ink_Weaver_Heart Skitrel Ink_Weaver_Heart Title: F.A.N.The rain outside was streaking down the window pane like lightening. The pitch black office room was hardly where Felicia Namson wanted to be that night. She much would have rather been at home in her warm apartment, trying to keep her cat away from the chicken she would be cooking. But this wasn't the case.
Dressed in formal attire, she pressed her ear against the cold wooden door to listen to the commotion in the hall. Footsteps faded in and she heard some men talking in broken English. They seemed to be arguing about something, and apparently it was something trivial, for a man with a commanding voice cut through the quarreling and shouted some harsh instructions. The voices as well as the footsteps faded out and disappeared completely.
The woman crept out of the office and unsheathed a dagger from a hidden strap on her thigh. She twirled it almost lovingly, and used it to pick the lock of a stairwell entrance. With the picture of the blueprints fresh in mind, she climbed the winding stairs until she reached the proper floor, to which she entered.
Unlike the floor she had just come from, this one was dark and consisted of only a few doors. She confidently strode the end of the short hall and paused at an unlocked before proceeding through it. She wielded the dagger high in the air, and, as if it was a torch, advanced into the darkness before her.
The lights in the room snapped on and behind the desk was a squat man with his finger on a light switch. She paused, evaluating the situation, trying to see if she had a good angle to strike.
"Felicia," He said calmly. "So glad we have this chance to... catch up. I'm sure that you've met my dear friend James?" He spun the office chair around and strapped in it was a man that Felicia immediately recognized as her fiancé.
Felicia's heart jumped to her throat and her veins surged with hot guilt; an emotion that she wasn't supposed to feel on this job. The lightening cracked loudly and the dagger she held dropped to her side. She started towards him but was halted mid-step by the gun that was raised ever so casually from the standing man’s pocket so that it sat level with her abdomen.
“You know, it’s funny,” The man began confidently. “I thought it would be hard to find you. But as it turns out, I didn’t need to find you; just him.” He turned the gun on James. “Does your fiancé even know about your profession? Your… job? I mean, being a government assassin can’t be an easily hidden secret.” The man that Felicia only knew from hastily taken photos looked down at James, obviously expecting a reaction of sorts. But he wasn’t going to get one.
Felicia expertly dropped her dagger onto her foot, and tossed it under the table. It landed harmlessly in James’ lap.
Sensing movement, the man’s eyes darted to Felicia, whose calm composure gave away nothing. Yet within seconds, James was standing behind the man with Felicia’s dagger at his throat, and the gun was sliding across the floor.
“You know, it’s funny,” Felicia recited. “I thought it would be hard to kill you. But as it turns out, my fiancé chose the same proffesion.”
After a quick thrust and a flash of silver, the man was on the ground. Felicia went to her future husband and took the knife from his hands. As was tradition with each successful mission, she closed the door as she went out, and carved her initials into the door.
F.A.N.
~Felicia Anne Namson Ink, I know you wanted me to read this, but I'm going to have to stick to simple things for the rest of the night, I've drank far too much wine already and everything's a bit blurry. I'll have a good read tomorrow though... Nope, doubt I'll be sleeping much tonight, too much to think about.
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Posted: Mon Jul 30, 2007 9:46 pm
Title: A Secret Dance
Word Count: 358
Author: Kurumi_Yuto
Slowly the elegant colors melt in a swirl of gold’s, reds and browns. The way they are intricately woven together to create an image of everlasting beauty is simply a mass of textured plays over thin parchment moving to quickly for the eye to actually see. Once, twice, they spin and slowly come to a stop, revealing a painted scene it had seemed to be protecting from view as it spun. A beautiful countryside illuminated in the setting rays of the sun can be seen as the picture on the thin object before it is flipped daintily through the air by a small and gentle hand before it is once more caught and pulled around into another spin.
The sound of silk against silk is the only sound to be heard besides the movement of the painted fan, its colored limbs hiding a secret that shall never be revealed. It comes up, covering another painted surface that can rival its own in beauty and two small brown eyes peak over its thin top to gaze at the world in which the fan tries in vain to shield them from. Suddenly the fan is moved, and the secret in which it protects is revealed, alas it has failed in its duty! The painted face of a girl, whiter then snow, gazes at those who watch her dance, unknowing of the fan’s shattered pride. Suddenly, the fan is closed, its beauty hidden from the world and then re-opened moments later as if born again.
Then, once more, it starts over and the dance continues, the fan brought back to it perch in order to do what it was created to do, guard the beauty that can rival its own from the eyes of those who are not worthy to look upon it. Its own painted body, once more, becomes a secret to the world when it spins round again and again, a blur of color as it had been only minutes ago, though it seems longer then that, at the beginning of this mysterious dance.
The fan of color is a tool of great beauty and a Geisha’s greatest weapon.
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