Short Story Thread

Ice_Spark

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Eclipse
The uniqueness of the occasion was starkly apparent, and my errant heart began beating even more emphatically, in expectation of what was about to transpire. People were still milling around, jostling for the best position, while I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the angry glare of the sun; it was as though it knew the moon was soon to mercilessly snuff out its light, and glowed all the more brightly to compensate.
All of a sudden, there came a hushed silence, with the occasional murmur perpetrating and disrupting the dominating wave of autumnal quiet. It had begun...
A miniscule sliver had been shaved off the great disc of fire, and the sky seemed for a second to become tinged with a darker hue, and several wondrous gasps reverberated throughout the rolling hills. We could already observe the dark silhouette of the moon, as it waned and coalesced into existence, making substantial progress across its vivid field of victorious conquest. The heat haze bestowed upon the impressive mirage an otherworldly quality; and we looked on as gods fought, won battles and lost them. And the moon continued its inevitable advance, unopposed. Reality was dissolving, I could hardly see the man in front of me, and the only thing that mattered, the only important purpose was the celestial path that the moon had carved across the dead sky.
Pinpricks of light that were there, but never existed, strained against the moon’s gargantuan presence, pushing it away; it refused to be expelled.
The people were entranced, mouths agape, perceiving the strong grace and elegant power for the first time, not understanding. Some had their hands across their face, some sat forward eagerly in their seats, but the effect was the same on every man, woman and child in the little group.
Everything that has a beginning has an end, and so the moon relinquished its vice upon the sun; light and hope shone through again, and it began its proud journey of triumph back into the depths of the unknown.

Genre: Don't know (again xD) Maybe kinda surrealistic...
Description: Just something I wrote in an exam a couple of months ago.
[Critique: Yup]
 
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FRUITLOOP1001

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Ice_Spark I do love the way you write, and it seems you really made a point to use less common words. While I write I keep in mind that I don't know who will be reading what, so I tend to dull back on using words like 'Behoove' or the likes. I do love reading something where as I must think about a word to understand its meaning.
 

Ice_Spark

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FRUITLOOP1001 Thanks so much for the high praise! Positive feedback always feels awesome. :D Your story is fantastic as well, the unusual writing style is refreshing - I think I'll try using it at some point!

Yep, there definitely is a fine line between improving the description, and over-using these kinds of words. Sometimes, it might look like you're using a word just for the sake of it, so be careful. :)
 

FRUITLOOP1001

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Ice_Spark I'm not the kind of person who uses the same writing technique twice in a row. I have a thought about writing in such a way that it'll blend larger words into context well. Though it may seem a little off ^_^. It would be lovely to have some tips on that if you don't mind. Thinking about this made me realize I almost never use any 'Larger' words anymore!
 

Ice_Spark

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FRUITLOOP1001 What I said about over-using the words, I meant it generally, not specifically you! You didn't have that problem at all in your story, sorry for not being clear :S It's just that sometimes, I might get carried away, and it sounds artificial...

In any case, great writing can still be made without big words - at the end of the day, the fancy words are accessories, and the quality of the plot is paramount :) Unless you're just writing a short description xD
 

FRUITLOOP1001

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FRUITLOOP1001 What I said about over-using the words, I meant it generally, not specifically you! You didn't have that problem at all in your story, sorry for not being clear :S It's just that sometimes, I might get carried away, and it sounds artificial...

In any case, great writing can still be made without big words - at the end of the day, the fancy words are accessories, and the quality of the plot is paramount :) Unless you're just writing a short description xD
Oh No! I just wanted to do that because I realized how little I use those words. It's not you, I promise. ^_^
 

Theodorre

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The old man looked down into his mug. It was empty. He sighed. It wasn't worth it. Before the stroke, he could have easily gotten himself a drink. But life had changed. Little things like that were now a luxury. His dependence on other people bothered him. He knew he could learn to walk again, but he wasn't sure if he had the strength. He looked down at his alert bracelet, attached firmly to his wrist, a red button potruding . He despised that button. He vowed he would never used it.

He closed his old eyes. He could hear the distant sound of footsteps, uncertain, wary footsteps. They stopped outside his door. He laid back in his chair and pretended to be asleep. A maid gently opened the door and shuffled in quietly. She whispered softly. "Are you awake, Mr. Robinson?" she asked. The man pretended to stir from his sleep. He opened one eye and looked at the maid. "Would you like a drink, Mr. Robinson?" The man grumbled. "No, no, I'm fine, if I need one I'll get it myself." She looked at him sympathetically. "Mr. Robinson, it's really no issue to ge-" "I said I'm fine!" he snapped. "I'm sorry" she said, before leaving the room.

The man then realised how thirsty he actually was. He carefully moved off the chair and tried to stand up. He breathed heavily. "Left foot forward, right foot forward," he recited to himself. He leaned across, trying to get himself to the kitchenette, but his left foot didn't move. He tipped over and crashed onto the hard tiled floor. He grumbled to himself, angry that he could be so stupid. He tried to get up, but failed. He knew he had only two options; he could wait for a maid to come, but that would mean he'd be on the floor for hours, or he could use his help button. He hit the floor with his fist. He had no choice and he knew that. He let out a dismal sigh, reached down and pressed his alert button, losing his last sliver of independence he still had.

Just something I thought up when I first signed up for an online writing site. :p

Genre: Fiction (The effects of age on elderly people, specifically).

Critique: Of course! :)
 

JKangaroo

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[Genre: Fiction, Fantasy, Steampunk]
[Description: This happens to be a continuation of a prior story I had written and posted in my post prior to this one. I mainly only wrote it for another one of my assignments for Literature for writing a story using a number of random words picked from a hat and the like.
This--- Is really not that great in my opinion. I severely rushed this story out. For a lot of these rushed projects I make, I feel I use too much dialogue sequences that really make the story more of an acting "play." It's not as descriptive in words as I would have liked it to be, and I don't especially feel it was essentially that great in actually presenting the scenario in question and nothing was really explained. I also feel I used many of the supposed words I had gotten out of that hat in the wrong grammatical sense, so take things with a pinch of salt regarding that.

This part of the story follows, as said above, the previously tale of the Captain and her assistant/2nd in Command, the Butler Cromnwell. Taking place later in the time-period of that situation, we follow the initial stages before an attack on the Jermmantian Border, which just so happens to be guarded by an immense wall (one that happens to go up to or even larger than normal aircraft air space) known as the Wvenderest Bastion, Fort, Wall, etc. This wall, including the country it is guarding, has never been taken once in its long history besides once, which has injured their pride for many centuries...

There is no real overall plot to it as of yet--- Just random situations and events. I haven't come up with an overall reason they are attacking and invading the nation and its wall as of this date, as I haven't constructed the story before hand either. ^_^]
[Critique: Of course, always welcomed]
“Ha! Though it may appear redoubtable and impenetrable to the eye, but please, have some credence for your dear old captain, would you? Have I ever steered you wrong in the past my dear friend?”
Still, in that cold, yet strangely sophisticated voice which never leaves a hint of any fallacious notion or depravity which Cromnwell had so skillfully mastered during the times as a butler he is, spoke out in that bottomless voice of his, “Of course not, ser. Twas' merely a thought, for the crew has been muttering of mutiny and madness has been spreading through some of the newer members docked within our squadron.” Turning to aside to overlook the men and women tirelessly working across the bow of the ship, he muttered again. “And I do not truly blame them Ser. Launching a siege against the imposing bastion of Wvenderest and its outlying walls is dubious at best. The Jermanntian coastline has been lost to us from the beginning. You know the history as well as I, and though an impressive front you are putting up for show, please excuse me, but this idea is incredulous. I know this is the wishes of her majesty however…”
A yawn escapes you as you listen on to this tangent of pity and doubt; it is irritable. Mockingly, you stretch the limbs of your arms over your head in a care-free fashion and lean against the rail, also facing the bow of the mighty galleon you command. A cloud brushes against your face but you push the mist away. “Where was that trust you so held for me just a moment before my dear fellow? Have all that been dashed the instance you laid your eyes upon that beauty?” You mock lightly, waving your hand at the dark landmass rising over the landscape in the distance.
Your companion besides you begins to raise a finger in objection, yet you hold up a hand, signaling silence. “Ah, all in far and joke. However…” You straighten and lock eyes with the tall figure clad in purple, “…Tis not the will of the Queen I’m afraid. Do not hold such credulity when working with I, Cromnwell; I do not follow the orders of the monarch if they affect my abilities as a commander. Besides that, you know as well as I the Queen is not that foolish to make a launch on the Hallow Bastion of Wvenderest; Everyone does. The orders were mine, and mine alone to uphold, if I may so confide to thee.”
Cromnwell frowns. ~Frowning, always with the skepticism and strange looks from him. I am certain he doesn’t just go along with all this, he is more knowledgeable then he lets on to be believed. Ah, such sweetness to be so upstanding for the crew Cromnwell, dear fellow, bravo. ~ You smirk, as Cromnwell, your companion, paces the deck, presenting the orders of attack. That familiar, and homely smell of black powder and the sounds of grapeshot blur themselves into the distance. Nothing like a good chat before a battle. You sigh, and place a gloved hand on a rapier nearby, just as Cromnwell makes his way up the battlements.
“Are you certain of this course of action?” He asks, strangely diffident, almost as if he is one of the crew.
“Indubitably. Do not worry Cromnwell, this battle will be successful. The Hallow Bastion of Wvenderest will fall today… Perhaps… In a way you were not expecting.”
“Is this plan even credible? Surely even speaking of the walls of the Jermmant cliffs will shirk and test the fidelity of the crew, and many men less hardened than these.” He says slowly, waving a hand out over the crew. “You are mortal,” he returns, “All plans and people are fallible, we will possibly loose many of the fleet. It may leave the motherland open to a counter-attack should we fail.”
You let out a sigh and put a hand on your companions shoulder to sturdy both yourself, and he. “Ah, I digress, you truly have a bit of tunnel-vision at this moment, Cromnwell, if you too do not believe that the Walls do not have this very same weakness and fallibility that we may have.”
Before he can speak, the sounds of gunshot, the sight of sparks and powder, and the shrapnel and debris of creaking wood rip into the air around you. The yelling of commands bring about a rush of adrenaline pumps into your veins. The battle has begun.
You smirk and rush towards to stairway toward the rushing of the crew. You stop, quickly, and turn to face your companion in arms.
“There is no going back now.” You outstretch your hand to him, which he firmly grasps.
“Until Death, mi’lady.”

I also have something else in the works but some things just happens to be taking up some of my time. >.<
 
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ReyvnNova

"Come buy our orchard fruits, Come buy, come buy~"
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JKangaroo Novels near always have long periods of dialogue with little action, so it's totally fine :] Anywho, I still like it and find it very interesti- no, riveting! But then, I am a sucker for steam punk ^^; There were some misplaced words, but that's totally reasonable under the rushed circumstances.
 
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Zelz

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Genre: Zombie
Description: Simple zombie story. I wrote it late 2011, and... Yeah, I know it's not great, but hey, it was good at the time, I guess.
[Critique: Yes/No] Yes~
Bored, bored, and more bored. Yuzuuki sat bored in her class. 'Why me?' she thought. 'Why do I have to do this horrible math?'. The windows were so warm, from the heat, that is looked as though they were sweating. Everybody was working hard, except for Yuzuuki. She was distracted, but not sure what was making her like this. She just couldn't concentrate.
Instantly, she looked up at the door. She could have sworn she heard something. "Yuzuuki? Could you please take these folders down to room 4?", spoke her teacher gently.
"Oh, ofcourse miss.", she replied, grabbing her blazer, and pulling it on. 'Finally something to do.' she thought to herself.
Walking out of the door, she was positive there was something, or someone, making a strange noise.
"W-...Who's there?" she asked, her voice echoing through the corridoor. Thank goodness nobody heard her, as they would think she was mental- Even though she thought so, herself.
Stepping foot, after foot, down the long, hot, corridoor. Not liking this at all, she noticed blood on the floor... And, it wasn't normal blood. Taking a closer look, she realised it just so happened, to be green. As she put her hand over it, carefully making sure to not touch it, she realised it was super warm.
It lead to outside... Following it, she became more, and more nervous. She noticed an M9 on the floor. Hesitating to pick it up or not, she walked over to it, making sure nobody notices, she picked it up for safety.
Remembering about the safe room, she made her way to it.
Coincidentally, there just so happened to be more, what looked like, blood over the doors of the safe room. Carefully opening it, she looked inside... She was truly amazed.
The place was full of rifles, sub-machine guns, etc. And, she was never told? Yuzuu was so excited about this, in an odd way. She noticed, the guy she had always adored, Kyuzaki, walking near the area she was in.
As he walked past the door, she quickly grabbed him, and dragged him into where she was. She clung onto him, running her hand through his soft, blonde hair, as she asked how he was... All he replied with, was
"I could have sworn something is out there...", as he hugged her back, seeming to... Like the hug... Probably from how he felt, about something being out there.
"Uhm, l-like what?" Yuzuuki curiously asked Kyuzaki, as she glared into his beautiful blue eyes.
Instantly hearing banging coming from the door behind them, they sharply turned to the door.
Simply, Kyuzaki replied with,
"That."
 
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Toiletprincess

The Eternal Dinosaur
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Genre: Mythological
Description: Just a simple story I thought up in English, I never got very far in it, but let's see what I can add.
Critique: Always welcomed.
(Please take into consideration, my vocabulary and such isn't as advanced as some who have written because I'm only in year 8 and it hasn't even been a term of high school yet.)

Thunder roared and lightning cracked, lighting up the single room of the cottage for a split second, before falling into darkness. An old woman sat on a torn chair, the smell of mildew and mould fresh in the rundown house. The fire spat in annoyance, sparks leaping into the air before being snuffed out by the rough winds that tore through the shattered windows. The storm was getting worse. The rain pounding mercilessly down on the tin roof was deafening along with the unmistakable sound of the thunder which was slowly creeping closer. The old woman hummed a song to take her mind off of the raging winds and lightning splitting the sky above her. Her face was deeply wrinkled and her large blue eyes showed no emotion. She was old, very old, and only god knew if she would survive this storm. A loud thump was heard on the sodden wood door, the snuffling of a wild animal was distinguishable on the other side. The woman warily crept to the door, pulling a stool across the creaky old floor. She stepped tenderly onto the stool, testing it's strength before opening the peep hole and looking through. All she could see was an unending darkness. That was until lightning conveniently cracked, and the world was as bright as day. She was met with the beady black eyes and large nostrils of a wild animal. The cottage shuddered as the creature started ramming the weak door, wood shrieking under the pressure. The woman cautiously stepped away from the door as the splintering cry of breaking wood filled her ears and she finally saw the creature in full perspective. It had the rippling muscled torso of a man, but upon it's legs were hooves and atop it's neck was the head of a bull. It snorted, bowing it's large head down to charge, golden nose ring glinting dangerously in the limited light. Steam protruded from it's nostrils and the last thing she saw was those deadly eyes before the world was plunged into darkness.
 
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