I'll post a dialogue here in a while im almost done i just need to add like 2 more scenes. It's not really that long so =p. and its my first one so =p again.

Okay here is!

Pranks

Narrator:PRAAAAANKS. Welcome to pranks, the nuttiest show around. We film game characters at their worst when they've been prankified, mortified, decapitied, and annoyitied. Close up footage from as many game characters you can think of! mario,samus,link,carebears,power rangers,sonic,snake,and others we don't want to name. so stay tuned to see stuff that'll make a cow squirt milk out of his nose.

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Scene 1: (mario is seen walking down the hall into his room quietly, but on a candid camera we see luigi unscrewing screws out of his chair.)

Luigi: lets see who gets the last mushroom now mario HAHAHA

(mario enters the room)
Mario: lalalalala time to sit down on this nice chair
(mario falls of chair and goes flying backwards and hits the wall)

Mario: luigi you little (beep), I'm gonna kick the (beep) outta you. fix my god (beep) chair, you son of a (beep).

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Scene 2: (sonic is going really fast down a hill, but then we see tails putting wet cement in the ground).

Tails: hahaha, you gonna get stuck here sonic, for all the times i've never had the spotlight.
(sonic is flying down and falls into the cement)

Sonic: woah! what the hell is this?
(sonic gets stuck and can't move)

Sonic: hey what's goin on???!!
(Dr. Willy comes up and takes sonic away, leaving tails awed and scared)

Tails: HOLY (BEEP) DUDE!!!!
(Tails runs off and acts like nothing happend.)

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Scene 3: (We see Mario messing with Luigi's diet coke, he looks very mischievious)

Mario: HAHAHA, finally I will get the last laugh
(Mario puts Luigi's diet coke back and looks to see if anyone is there and sprints away)

(Luigi walks up and takes it out)

Luigi: AHHHhhhhh nice refreshing diet coke...
(he opens the bottle and diet coke sprays out of the top)

Luigi: OMFG AAHHHH LDFJKSD:LFJSDLHF HDSFKJHSD @&#@*# @&#@ @# @#*% #$* #$*#$
(Mario is in the corner laughing really hard)

Luigi: MARIO YOU SON OF A (BEEP)
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Scene 4: (Zelda is in the picture replacing the triforce sword in a rock with a fake triforce sword in a rock.)

(Zelda music is playing as Link goes up to the sword and bows in front of it)

(He reaches to pick it up)

Link: Once again I shall clain this sword!!
(Link pulls and the sword doesn't budge)

(He continues to pull but nothing seems to work)

(Just as Link pulls as hard as he can, Zelda presses a button the makes the sword fly out and Link flys to the ground hitting a wall.)

Link: WHAT THE (BEEP) WAS THAT ABOUT???
(Link realizes what happens when he sees Zelda laughing)

Link: I'VE BEEN DOING THIS FOR OVER 30 F@#$ING YEARS, AND YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY TO DO THIS! IT'S F@#$ING NOT FUNNY BECAUSE I'M SICK OF IT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
(Link runs off and starts crying)
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Narrator: WASN'T THAT FUNNY, I THOUGHT SO, and I hope you did too.
(credits come up showing the peoples names and such, but on the side is some clips of the moments of the video when the prank happens.)

Just so you know this was the first thing i've done like this that's a script, so tell me what you thought.

I want to join. I have 1 script that I wrote that's being made into a flash currently and I would enjoy to write more scripts. So does anyone want a script to be written by me I'll take pretty much any request

Well, I got a story out and about, about the Newgrounds Police Department. It's called The Arrest, and I've posted it in the general section, but hasn't gotten much attention. so I'm going to post it here. No sense in re-posting Chapter 1, I'll link it here, then post the next Acts of chapter 2 in here.

Link to The Arrest

can I join? I used to make comics and such, but havent recently so im figuring i could get back in the game with this writers guild

This is a really good idea.
I suck at flash and have no time to buy the real version.
My room's crowded with ideas, but I have nothing to do with them because I can't draw anything or animate anything.

Hi, im drew. After about 1 1/2 years of experience im pretty good at animation. What I lack is the ability to make things up to animate. Seeing how you all are great writers I'd love to put your ideas into an animation. The animations I have on here are either old or are lacking patience. I can definently make better quality animations, I just need an interesting story that I'm into to animate. If you would like to help me and have your ideas put together then please, think of something with some fighting in it. And tell me.

Most of you writers belong to The Shadow Sun, correct? After all, it IS a writer site. So I would be surprised if no one knew about it here. Does anyone know what happened to it? I searched, The Shadow Sun on Google, found the correct spot and the guy who makes it account has been suspended. So that could mean all the articles are gone.

Could I join, as a writer? I've got some of my first script done, it's my first though, please rate from 1 - 10.:

(On road on a long street, houses occasionally have broken windows)
(Reaper gets shot at, hit in shoulder)
Reaper: Ow, Dammit, when ever I get this friggen top cleaned, I get more blood on it!!!
(Gets shot in thigh, gives annoyed expression)
Reaper: Screw it.
(Runs towards Robert, who is only seen now. Fly kicks him in face, Robert falls back, but before he hits the floor Reaper runs round and grabs him by the neck.
Robert: What are you doing this for? (Tear roles down cheek)
Reaper: Okay… a wimpy, talking zombie… this is weird.
Robert: (angry) WHAT?! I AM NOT A GOD-DAMN ZOMBIE!!! You sh-
Reaper: Oh, right, a wimpy dead lad. I though you were a zombie
Robert: So you booted me in the head?!
Reaper: You shot me, TWISE. And you hit the badge, nobody disrespects the badge. (Eyes narrow towards Robert)
(Hoard of zombies groan and approach, walking down road)
Reaper: Ah, crud. Just when I was about to deadify him some more. Oh well. (Turns and looks at Robert) Wimpy dude, peg it, I‘ll cover you, hand me your gun.
Robert: I have a name, it’s Robert!
Reaper: I don’t give a f-
Robert: Catch!
Reaper: (Slightly catches with hand, but can’t get grip, fumbles about with it until gets grip) you’re a really bad thrower!
(Zombies moan, Reaper turns round, sees Zombies right in front of him.)
Reaper: Ah, nuts. Dude, keep the gun and shoot the afterlife out of those bad suggas.
(Throws gun at Roberts head, hits head, Reaper chuckles)
Robert: You’re a worse thrower than me!
Reaper: No, I was aiming at your head.
(Big fight scene, Reaper gets shot in head by accident)
Reaper: Argh you ba-
Robert: They’re dead.
Reaper: (Turns round, sees zombie corpses) Sweet. Now you’re going to travel to the wizard of Oz with me.
Robert: (Confused) Wa?
Reaper: We’re gonna go kill all the zombies in the world, come on, it’ll be fun. (Smiles enthusiastically)
Robert: How many zombies are there?
Reaper: (Scratches his head) Err…….. about half the human population plus half the human population.
Robert: (Thinks, then stops) Okay… NO, WAIT, THAT IS THE HUMAN POPULATION!!!!!
Reaper: I know, I just wanted to soften the blow.
(Robert looks at him suspiciously)
Reaper: (Sighs) Okay, I wanted a laugh.
Robert: I’m not killing 6 billion zombies!!!
Reaper: Fine, I’ll kill 4 billion; you kill the other 2 billion. You get the easy end of this.
Robert: Do I actually have a choice?
Reaper: No, now come on.
(Fades into black screen which fades into next scene)
(On top of tall Argos building, Reaper sitting comfortably, Robert sitting with crossed legs)
Reaper: Dude, you’re not in school.
Robert: (Puzzled) what do you mean?
Reaper: (Astonished) you always cross your legs?! Oh, dude, I got a lot of work to do with you.
Robert: What?
(Reaper sighs)
Reaper: One second. (Whistles loudly) (Werewolf dressed in rags jumps seemingly out of no where.) Heyaz, Tom. Hand me my sniper. (Werewolf takes parts of sniper out of pocket and fixes them together really fast.) Ta, Tommo, go getyour self a nice criminal meal from the local jail.
(Reaper lays down and prepares to sniper)
Robert: What are you waiting for?
Reaper: Some snitches told me that zombies are planning to zombie-fie this street. I’m gonna pick ‘em off.
Robert: Who told you?
Reaper: (Points at a zombie head in drain) you see that zombie head, that was the snitch. Emphasis on was. (Chuckles to himself) Anyway, with this sniper I won’t be able to kill all the zombies, I only have 1 bullet, but all I intend to do is kill one zombie. There’s always a distinctive leader, the tall one at the front, it just seems to work like that, makes my life a whole lot easier. (Distinctive stomping from up the road) And there is my prey.
(Starts aiming sniper towards Zombie hoard, turns into sniper view, all zombies look at reaper, back out of sniper view)
Reaper: I think they noticed me.
Robert: Why?
(Gunshot)
Reaper: ‘Cos when these were living they were in the army, they had and have guns. Oh, by the way, do you like the color red?
Robert: Why?
Reaper: Cos your shirt’s gonna be red soon, also, there’s a hole in your head.
(Looks back through sniper scope, switches back to sniper view. Searches around to find zombie hoard again, finds)
Reaper: (Preparing to fire) Aaaaaaaaand fi-, (Scope shot cracked scope view) crud. Well, better try anyway. (Shoots sniper, misses. Back out of Sniper view) Robert, do you watch the Olympics?
Robert: No.
Reaper: Ohhh, I was hoping you would see which javelin thrower I was about to copy. Oh well. (Stand up and holds sniper like a javelin and hurls down at zombies. (Camera following javelin) (Javelin slices head zombie in the head, pause, and then head falls off)
Reaper: (Smiles to himself) that was cool, (turns to Robert) right?
Robert: (Suddenly blurting out) THIS IS POINTLESS!!! WE HAVE SUCCESFULLY KNOCKED OFF ONE ZOMBIE FROM 6 BILLION!!! WE NEED SOMETHING BIG, TO KILL THEM ALL!!!
Reaper: Okay, stress-head. Let me lay down some info. Unlike most undead creatures, zombies aren’t in a network of power, they are individual. No killing the ultimate one of them to kill them all, no stupid power orb like with ghosts. That’s why I’m doomed for eternity to kill them all, one by one.
Robert: Do the government know about the zombies and all the other undead creatures.
Reaper: Duh, cameras allover the place, unnatural deaths, hard for them not to realize. Once they realize, they study, out of curiosity. But curiosity killed the cat.
Robert: You seem curious about everything.
Reaper: Yeah, but I ain’t a cat, more of an undead child born in hell by the first two humans on the face of the universe.
Robert: Adam and Eve?
Reaper: Well, obviously.
Robert: Okay, sarcastic, the plan is, we break into government files, get what we need, see what we can do. (Dramatic pause)
Reaper: Was that ‘sarcastic’ thing supposed to be name calling?
(Robert sighs)
Robert: Okay, all your idiocy aside, we need a map.
Reaper: I can get you a map, one second.
(Front flips of building, camera stays on Robert who rolls eyes)
Robert: He is so lucky he’s already dead.
(Camera switches back to Reaper, who is now on the roadside looking for a shop, walks past one that has been the victim of a riot)
Reaper: Oh, for the love of god, is there any shops that aren’t totally destroyed?
(Walks past shop that is on fire)
Reaper: Oh, screw it. (Runs towards door, about to dash in the burning shop) WAIT! What did Eve say?
(Thought bubble pops up with Eve talking)
Eve: When you’re in a burning building, stay as low as possible to avoid the smoke.
(Thought bubble pops)
Reaper: Oh no, I’m gonna look like a pansy. (Starts crawling in, about half-way through the building he sees surveillance camera)
Reaper: Oh, no way, the police… they’re gonna think I’m a pansy!!! Also a thief but I don’t care about that. (Stands up and brushes himself to get off any dirt)
(Walks to end of shop, picks up map, and walks to till, looking or some change in his pocket but can’t find any)
Reaper: Dammit, well, I’ll write a note saying I’ll come back with the money soon. Ah, screw it. (Walks out and looks at top) Oh…… I singed my top… again. (Car runs him over) Godforsaken dude who invented the car, if he were here, I’d send him to the void so fast –
Robert: What’s the void?
(Reaper looks down at him)
Reaper: How did you get here?
Robert: I jumped off the building.
Reaper: Yes, you’re starting to get the, what have I got to lose attitude! Whoo!

Yeah, it's a bit big so I'm posting the next part in a new post, sorry!

Here's the rest:

Robert: Yeah, what’s the void?
Reaper: Nothing, nothing at all. It’s where any cursed dead go to avoid cursing any other beings. That’s why when ever I use my gun, I hit the side first.
Robert: Why would you hit the side of your gun?
Reaper: Right, you’re about twelve year old, you own a gun, et you know nout about them? God, I’m stuck with an idiot for the rest of eternity.
Robert: Just tell me.
Reaper: Kk, in the barrel of the gun, where the bullet travels down, there are grooves that speed up the bullet, a side effect is scratch marks on the side of the bullet. I was trained to be able to hit the side of my gun just right that the grooves cut a curse symbol on the bullet.
Robert: Trained by who?
Reaper: (Suddenly appearing secretive) doesn’t matter. (Looks at map) Come on, I know where to go to get to the airport, then we go to America and sneak into a counter terrorism building and access any government files. It’s our best bet to solving this. But we’ll need a vehicle.
Robert: You’re gonna get a car?
Reaper: The nearest airport is about 25 miles away, I ain’t walking! Follow me. (Starts walking down the road, Robert tags along, observing the Reaper)
Robert: Where are we going?
Reaper: (quickly replying) A car park.
Robert: O, lord, no.
(Reaper and Robert walk into dark car park)
Reaper: Okay, it’s a 24 hour car park and they don’t have lights? Idiots. (Looks up) (Shouting) Hey, High Dead, it’s me, The Reaper!
(Mysterious green light appears, looks like a gas swirling around something, lights up building) (Gas swirls down in front of Reaper whose head follows it down)
Reaper: (Shouting) I need a favour, could I use either a Dragon or a Honda? Preferarably a Dodge Viper?
Mysterious light: (A sinister voice) Why are you requesting this?
Reaper: Who doesn’t like dodge vipers?
Mysterious light: I meant why do you need these objects of quick transportation?
Reaper: ‘Cos I can’t be bothered to walk.
Mysterious light: (Angry) be serious! It’s typical of an amateur like you to mess about like this!
Reaper: Hey, shut up, when I get back up there I’d be able to send you to the void, A.S.A.P! And, I didn’t ask to do this, so pay me some respect! I need it to get to an airport 25 miles away.
Robert: To go to America and kill all zombies.
Mysterious light: That boy takes things seriously.
Reaper: What ever, I don’t care; now give me the damned Dodge Viper!
Mysterious light: It shall be done.
(Mysterious light turns into Honda, becomes dark again)
Reaper: Sweet!

I love to write, I wonder if I could join here. Please let me know if I can...thanks (Also, i have been writing for fun for a whiel, been submitting bits and peicies of a mob story to the Mafia....)

Can I join the Writer's Guild I love to write about Horror/Comedy/Drama

I will put this is in my sig.

hey, i am just bringing this club back. thanks

Jeez, my internet is frustrating me lately. Anyway, this is the newest, and probably weirdest work that has come out of my dysfunctional imagination. Any criticism accepted, be mindful it was written late at night, and is the most EXTREME of Abstracts. Enjoy.

The Unusual Drug

So I’m sitting here thinking: Can I do it? I have the ability to but yet can I do it? Can I turn the potential energy of the mind into kinetic? And what’s more important, can I filter out all the bullshit and state exactly, precisely, what occurred to me at 2 am yesterday, and on math class last Friday? Obviously not, because what you have just read is me trying to get to a point that I have not even made for myself.
God I’d love to be a genius. However, what’s the next step? Accomplished geniuses, what do they want to become? Do they even realize the potential of their intellect? And if they don’t, what separates them from us, the common folk? You are probably losing interest in this text right about now, and I’m sure I’ll need to pull something really fancy out of my creative hat in order to keep you paying attention.
Truth is, I still don’t even know what to write about. However, an old Russian saying states that a person who isn’t hungry gains his appetite while eating. I hope the same thing applies to literature.
So then let me try to alter the fabric of time and space, just to keep you entertained. You still with me? Sorry, I’m failing to filter out the bullshit. I just can’t help myself though, I want to go and sleep, I have early swimming practice tomorrow, but I just need to state something that is nagging at my brain and hiding from my mind’s eye at the same time. Hey, and what do you know, I am finally able to properly associate the damn title to the text. This is the unusual drug. I hope (or else all is lost) we think we are all geniuses, that we have something to contribute to the world or to a community. We can’t help but to try to give something, in any form, physical or metaphysical. I am one of you people, I’m addicted. And that’s why I have unsuspecting victims read this text and grind their brains over it, some trying to understand, some assuming, others realizing. The quest for expression is the unusual drug, as is internet for some, and orgasm for many. Hey and guess what? I am gradually getting that appetite, gradually a point that is at least half way intelligent is formulating in my mind, and I am about to spew it out on this endless white canvas.
Too bad I have fainted on the keyboard. Another thought that might have saved the world was just lost.

Is this club still active? Or has it just degraded to people randomly posting clips of whatever it is they're working on?

At 6/26/07 11:15 AM, Deathcon7 wrote: Is this club still active? Or has it just degraded to people randomly posting clips of whatever it is they're working on?

Largely inactive.

Could be revived with some regular members though.

For those posting their work here, I would suggest you pay a visit tothis site.

Fourth Perspective is an up and coming website devoted to what the Guild here on NG was, critiquing writing, and also the showcase of peoples work using PDF files. Eve if you aren't that interested in the community submitting your work to the site can act as an effective copy right of sorts as it proves that the piece was written by a set date, thus preventing any plagiarism.

Should any of you decide to join you will be most welcome.

I hope to see you there.

At 6/26/07 11:52 AM, Tri-Nitro-Toluene wrote:

At 6/26/07 11:15 AM, Deathcon7 wrote: Is this club still active? Or has it just degraded to people randomly posting clips of whatever it is they're working on?

Largely inactive.

Could be revived with some regular members though.

In fact...fuck it. This place practically raised me as a writer, I'll be damned if I'm gonna let it die.

The NG Writer's guild is officially back in business even if I have to drag people here using tooth and Claw.

Myst's dream shall live on!

:)

Glad I could inspire you so! If it's to any affect, I'll be here as a regular from now on. I'll help keep the Giuld alive!

Starting a little later though... I don't have much to submit at the moment seeing as I don't have any access to my works.

At 6/27/07 09:42 AM, Deathcon7 wrote: Glad I could inspire you so! If it's to any affect, I'll be here as a regular from now on. I'll help keep the Giuld alive!

Excellent :-)

Starting a little later though... I don't have much to submit at the moment seeing as I don't have any access to my works.

No problems, I have some stuff I can post to get the ball rolling.

In fact....

The Battle of the Final Crumpet

There once was a battle, of which there’s a tale,
That a fight broke out because the bread was all stale.
Let me tell you this story, and trust me it’s true,
And just pray this event doesn’t happen to you.

In the middle of May, when the whether was nice,
A group of friends went out with enough to suffice
The needs of twenty and ten. T’was such a shame
There were fifty of them, and they all had their names.

There was Hare, Duck and Gerbil, Rabbit and Mouse.
Cat, Dog and Weasel, and of course the Wood Louse.
Bear, Bat and Ferret, crow, magpie and budgie,
And then there was Mole, who was a little bit funny.

They sat themselves down in a forest glade
And laid out the picnic straight out in the shade.
Out came the jam tarts, the doughnuts and the crisps,
The butter, the marshmallow and liquorice sticks.

The friends started eating, and had so much fun
And before they all knew it, the picnic was gone!
But the friends were still hungry, which was a problem
As the only food left was a crumpet between them.

‘That crumpet shall be mine,’ snarled weasel the thief
Who swiftly nicked it and tried to hide in the heath.
But a stone knocked him over, with a curse and an oath,
He dropped the crumpet which was picked up by the Stoat!

Stoat ran a mile, the friends they began to give chase!
Budgie flew up, took the crumpet, slapped stoat in the face.
Crow tackled Budgie, crumpet dropped to the floor,
Sat there a while, as the best friends all played war.

The Mole wandered up, as he wasn’t fighting,
Ate the crumpet and a smile that was delighting.
‘This Crumpet is lovely,’ he called as he scoffed!
The friends stopped and cried ‘He’s gone and eaten the Lot!’

‘Now chums,’ pleaded Mole, as his friends all advanced,
‘How about we forget this and all have a dance?’
His friends paid no heed to his cries and his pleads,
Surrounded him quickly brought him down to his knees!

‘No friends, I am sorry! I was just hungry’
‘Oh bother’ cried hare ‘He just made me feel sorry.
Come along chaps lets all go home to bed and tea
Now how do we explain to mom just where I’ve been?’

So all the friends all went home, back to families,
To tell them a tale of friends and camaraderie.
The Lesson they all learnt? Friends will be friends.
Despite their faults, always stick with them to the end.

Flippin' awesome kid! I really liked it. Sounded very british though, I don't know if that's where you're at... anyways, it's good.

Here's a little excerpt I found of something I'm working on:

Shimmering lights emanated from the highest windows of the castle tower as a furious search began. The woman searching were quiet clearly disregarding the comfort of the other girls sleeping. More shimmering lights exploded lower in the tower, and voices started to drift through the night air. From the forest's edge that surrounded the castle, Houb could see the whole tower in a mess. Soon the commotion spilled into the rest of the castle, and yellow light started to brighten the windows. It seemed now even the servants were awake, lighting candles to aid in the search. Houb looked over his shoulder at the sleeping girl behind him. She was curled in a ball, tucked into the roots of an overgrown tree. Turning back around he could start to distinguish the shouts from noise to actual chatter. Everyone was excited.

Houb’s ear perked as he sensed motion behind him. He slowly turned to greet a man in steel plating. “What brings you here Knight?”

“You don’t cover your tracks very well.” Resounded a deep voice from within the Knight’s helm. “Anyways, I’ve been following you this whole time. With those ears of yours I’m surprised you didn’t hear me.”

“A compliment to your skills Sir Knight.” Houb started to get nervous. His ears started to wilt. He quickly brushed his hand through his hair and rubbed his ears. Eventually they stood up again, proud Elven ears.

“Well… what do you want me to do then?” The Knight’s voice came as a calm threat. Houb knew he had to pick his words lightly if he wanted to get out of here without wasting another one of his Rocks.

Houb nervously giggled. “Um… if you must know—” Suddenly a ball of fire cracked by his head, striking the tree where the girl was curled under. The sparks landed on her, tingling her skin and rousing her. Her eyes quickly opened and her mouth let out the shout that was held within her. His plan falling apart Houb reached into his pouch.

With a deft hand the Knight let his sword fly, cutting Houbs hand and pouch to the ground. The sword quickly changed courses and went for the Elves head, but being gifted with speed he dodged the sword and reached for his pouch. Scooping it up he quickly grabbed three Rocks, murmured a slew of words and in the blink of an eye him and the girl were gone.

At 6/27/07 11:00 AM, Deathcon7 wrote: Flippin' awesome kid! I really liked it. Sounded very british though, I don't know if that's where you're at... anyways, it's good.

I am British yeah. Didn't think that came through with the poem though. Though I suppose the mention of crumpets kind of gives it away.

Here's a little excerpt I found of something I'm working on:

Read through it, and I have to say I did quite like it.

However if you'll accept a small critique?

You keep referring to things constantly. Once something has been established, try not to use the same word over and over again. For instance you stated that there was a tower, but then continued to directly mention it. If you made that less implicit and changed it slightly so it didn't sound quite so repetitive you'd be onto a winner.

I must say that you managed to reflect the chaos of the scene and describe everything very well, and I was instantly drawn in to what was happening. The only thing, description wise, that could be better would be a bit more emphasis on what Houb looked like. Just doing it in Drips and drabs, for instance by replacing his name with something like 'the cowled stranger'
can make a massive difference as it give information, but doesn't disrupt the flow either.

That was a very good start. Though I can't make a proper and full judgement until I read more.

At 6/27/07 11:54 AM, Tri-Nitro-Toluene wrote: I am British yeah. Didn't think that came through with the poem though. Though I suppose the mention of crumpets kind of gives it away.

Brits have a vocab thing going for them.

Read through it, and I have to say I did quite like it.

However if you'll accept a small critique?

Of course!

You keep referring to things constantly. Once something has been established, try not to use the same word over and over again. For instance you stated that there was a tower, but then continued to directly mention it. If you made that less implicit and changed it slightly so it didn't sound quite so repetitive you'd be onto a winner.

I've got this thing were if I don't do that I feel like the reader won't know what I'm talking about, hahaha. I'll try to avoid that.

I must say that you managed to reflect the chaos of the scene and describe everything very well, and I was instantly drawn in to what was happening. The only thing, description wise, that could be better would be a bit more emphasis on what Houb looked like. Just doing it in Drips and drabs, for instance by replacing his name with something like 'the cowled stranger'
can make a massive difference as it give information, but doesn't disrupt the flow either.

Yup, I've gotten that a lot as well. I'll keep your suggestion in mind, I haven't really thought of it that way.

That was a very good start. Though I can't make a proper and full judgement until I read more.

Yeah, it's just something I started not too long ago I happened to find on my work PC.

Suggestions Taken, Piece Revised

Shimmering lights emanated from the highest windows of the castle as a furious search began. The women searching were quiet clearly disregarding the comfort of the other girls sleeping. More shimmering lights exploded lower in the tower, and voices started to drift through the night air. From the forest’s edge the elf’s sharp emerald eyes could see the search gaining momentum. Soon the commotion spilled into the rest of the castle, and yellow lights started to brighten the windows. It seemed now even the servants were awake, lighting candles to aid in the search. Houb looked over his shoulder at the sleeping girl behind him. She was curled in a ball, tucked into the roots of an overgrown tree. Turning back around he could start to distinguish the shouts from noise to actual chatter. Everyone was excited.

Houb’s pointed ears perked as he sensed motion behind him. He slowly turned to greet a man in steel plating. “What brings you here Knight?”

“You don’t cover your tracks very well.” Resounded a deep voice from within the stranger’s helm. “Anyways, I’ve been following you this whole time. With those ears of yours I’m surprised you didn’t hear me.”

“A compliment to your skills Sir.” Houb started to get nervous. His ears started to wilt. He quickly raked his hand through his chestnut hair and rubbed his ears. Eventually they stood up again, proud Elven ears.

“Well… what do you want me to do then?” The Knight’s voice came as a calm threat. Houb knew he had to pick his words carefully if he wanted to get out of here without wasting another one of his Rocks.

Houb nervously giggled. “Um… if you must know—” Suddenly a ball of fire cracked by his head, striking the tree where the girl was curled under. The sparks landed on her, tingling her skin and rousing her. Her eyes quickly opened and her mouth let out the shout that was held within her. His plan falling apart, Houb reached into his pouch.

With a deft hand the Knight let his steel fly, cutting Houbs hand and pouch to the ground. The sword quickly changed courses and went for the Elves head, but being gifted with speed he dodged the sword and reached for his pouch. Scooping it up he quickly grabbed three Rocks, murmured a slew of words and in the blink of an eye him and the girl were gone.

* * * * *

Deeper in the forest, Houb sat nursing his stump of a hand. The shock from realizing he couldn’t heal himself had subsided. Now, he accepted his wound and let it become a part of him. It was an alien feeling, trying to move what isn’t there.

Behind him paced the young girl, obviously frustrated. “Houb… what happened back there!?” The voice of the girl peeled through the air like a bird’s shrill cry. Her black hair swinging in the air as she turned sharply on her heels. She wasn’t a very tall woman, and her dark hair contrasted with her creamy skin. She kept adjusting her night blouse as it stuck to her. In the end though she was still very intimidating.

“Lydia, you never told me there was a Knight at the castle. I asked you if there was anything I needed to know, and you said ‘No!’ Now look where it’s left me…” Houb held up his arm. The missing hand adding a dramatic affect. “Damn Knights… I tell you… show up… ruin things… high and mighty…” The elf’s mumbling trailed off, but his fury didn’t. He sat on a small boulder, cradling his hand. Dried blood flaked down his green, woolen, pants and onto his leather boots.

At 6/27/07 02:59 PM, Deathcon7 wrote: Suggestions Taken, Piece Revised

Cool.

Is this a short story or a full length novel?

Don't fear the reaper

“Next”

The nasal voice echoed out around the room. It was quite a large room, though there was hardly anything in it. A desk, a chair, a door and a potted plant. It was a very nice potted plant, made from the highest quality plastic. It spoke wonders about the sort of person who worked in the office. Namely that they liked the colour black. Almost everything was black. The table, the chair, the plant and the ceiling were all black. The only thing that wasn’t was the floor which alternated between tiles of black and a very dark shades of blue.

The door swung open and an elderly gentleman, wearing an Armani suit stumbled into the room.

“Ouch!” he yelped as he landed directly on his backside.

“Mind the step,” said a voice from the other end of the room.

The man, who had just entered, struggled to his feet and looked across the room at the desk. Behind it was a middle aged balding man scribbling furiously into a large book which covered over half the table.

“Don’t just stand there gawking,” said the man behind the desk, “I don’t have all day…well, actually I do, but that’s no excuse to just stand around being idle.”

Without thinking the elderly gentlemen began to walk across the almost, but not completely, black tiled floor towards the desk. Suddenly he stopped.

“Wait a second…what the hell is going on here? Where am I?” asked the elderly gentlemen, seemingly slightly confused.

The man behind the desk looked up and peered over his glasses.

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” he said as he arched his eyebrows in surprise.

“Who didn’t tell me what?”

“I really need to talk to that young man. It’s one thing forgetting to file the reports, but not telling the clients what’s happening to them...well…” he drifted off into silence for a few seconds before continuing to scribble notes into his book.

“Talk to who?” shouted the elderly gentlemen, his face turning pink with anger, “What the hell is going on. Where am I?”

“You’re dead sir,” came the reply from the clerk without even looking up from the book.

“Oh, right then, well…wait… I’m WHAT?” yelled the gentlemen as he took a few running steps towards the desk before regaining his composure.

The man behind the desk placed his pen down next to the book with the meticulous precision found only in pedantics and Feng Shui consultants. He pushed his glasses up to the top of his nose before speaking.

“You’re dead sir. You have…how do they put it? Ah yes. You have kicked the bucket, you are six feet under, you have choked the proverbial chicken,” he paused for a second as though thinking, “No…wait…you haven’t choked your chicken. That’s something completely different.”

The gentlemen, now standing in front of the desk with a look akin to that of exasperation on his face, let out a stream of expletives.

“Please watch your language sir. Imagine what your mother would say if she could hear you.”

“But my mother’s dea…” the colour from his face drained, “She’s…she’s not here is she?”

The man behind the desk smiled slightly.

“Not here sir, but she may be where you’re headed next. Tell me your name and I can find out.”

“G…Gareth. Gareth Roberts,” stuttered Gareth, the thought of his mother hampering his oratory skills. Being dead might not be that bad, but being dead with HER around, most certainly would be.

“One moment sir,” said the clerk as he buried his nose in the book in front of him. The office was quiet, with only the sound of turning pages filling the vacuum of silence.

Gareth watched the pages of the book with awe. Every page seemed to be dedicated to a different person and their life. When the clerk stopped for a few seconds he glanced at the name at the top of the page. It read “Genghis Khan” and as he watched, he saw words scrawl across the book describing what he’d eaten for breakfast.

“But…Genghis Khan’s dead,” said Gareth, giving voice to his thoughts.

“In a manner of speaking sir, yes he is.” replied the clerk whilst continuing to search the book.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, he’s either dead or he isn’t…isn’t he?”

“Not exactly sir, this place exists between time. Here everyone is both dead and alive at the same time.” He didn't look up from the book.

Gareth was confused. Here he was, apparently dead, and yet Genghis Khan, according to the hook nosed man sitting in front of him, was still alive….sort of. Gareth hadn’t felt this confused since he’d woken up one morning to discover he was in bed with his sister-in law after a night out on the town. But despite this, there was a question burning on his tongue he needed to ask.

“I’m sorry…but, I have to ask. Just who are you?”

The clerk looked up.

“Me sir? Why I am the collector of souls. The eternal watchmen. I am one of the two certainties in life. I am…what is it your reality calls me? Ah yes. The Grim reaper! I sir, am Death.”

Death? Gareth couldn’t believe his ears. This middle aged balding man with glasses was claiming to be one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse?

“Could you repeat that? I need to make sure I didn’t mishear”

“I sir, am Death.” responded the Reaper, “and I do believe I have located you in the book. I’m afraid your mother will be with you also. Now then let’s see…how you died…huh. Apparently you were killed in a car crash with a ten tonne lorry. Nasty business really. Miraculous that your suit survived without a scratch, though it’s a good thing really. You’ll need clothes where you’re going. They won’t offer that much protection, but every little helps, or so they say at least. I personally have no personal knowledge of what goes on in hell, I just send people there…”

Gareth wasn’t listening. Something wasn’t quite adding up. Had Death just said he’d died in a car crash?

“Er… I’m not quite sure how to break this to you, but I haven’t been in a car crash.’

Death dropped his pen.

“I beg your pardon? Did you just say you HAVEN’T, been in a car crash/

“No. I wasn’t.” said Gareth, thinking that something had obviously gone horribly wrong. Strangely enough, he wasn’t worried. The prospect of not having to spend the rest of eternity with his mother made any mistake that was made entirely forgiveable.

“Well it would certainly explain the suit.” mumbled death as he walked towards the door, opened it. “Excuse me a second,” he said as he walked out and closed it behind him. A second later the door opened again and Death re-appeared.

“Is everything ok?” asked Gareth.

“No, not really,” replied Death, “I’m afraid one of my staff has screwed up big time. I’m sorry for the trouble that’s been caused with you being brought here. If you’d just step through the door you’ll be returned to where you were before…without memory of what happened here of course.”

“Oh…alright” muttered Gareth as he walked towards the door, and slowly opened it. It was dark outside. This wasn’t the kind of dark that consisted of an absence of light however. This was the kind of dark that consisted of an absence of everything. Just pitch blackness. It matched the décor perfectly.

Gareth was about to make a comment about the darkness, but found himself pushed forward, directly into it. The darkness enveloped him. For a brief second he felt cold and then heard the door slam shut behind him.

Death wandered back to his desk, sat down and turned the hourglass that was on his desk. His eyes remained fixed as he watched the grains of ebony coloured sand fall through into the bottom half of the hourglass. As the last few grains seeped through he raised his finger and pointed at the door.

3…2…1…

Click!

The door opened and in stumbled an elderly gentleman, wearing an Armani suit.

‘Good evening Mr Roberts!’ greeted Death as he offered him a seat. ‘If you’ll be kind enough to just sit down and wait whilst I get your files in order we can see you off to your pre-destined afterlife in no time at all.’

Gareth had a strange feeling of Deja-vu...

-----------------

Need to write some more stuff...

Well I now realize that FF.Net sucks, but it was better than posting it on the BBS to be butchered and spammed

At 6/27/07 03:26 PM, Rague wrote: Well I now realize that FF.Net sucks, but it was better than posting it on the BBS to be butchered and spammed

That link says I need to Login to view it. Any chance you can make it so its viewable without havign to create an account?

Also, check Fourth Perspective as a place to host your works.

At 6/27/07 03:43 PM, Tri-Nitro-Toluene wrote:

At 6/27/07 03:26 PM, Rague wrote: Well I now realize that FF.Net sucks, but it was better than posting it on the BBS to be butchered and spammed

That link says I need to Login to view it. Any chance you can make it so its viewable without havign to create an account?

Also, check Fourth Perspective as a place to host your works.

I tried that

The file you have uploaded is not one of the supported file types.
The currently supported file types are: PDF.
The file you uploaded is: application/octet-stream

They made me submit an image. At that, I say piss off.

Err...can I just post it here?

At 6/27/07 10:07 PM, Rague wrote: Err...can I just post it here?

Of course, it's what the place was desinged for :-)

I'm thinking, to pick up a little momentum, we can start a competition. This competition has to do with working in different styles. Meaning, every week I'll assign a style and who ever posts a short story 500-1000 words, will win that weeks contest. At the end, whoever wins the most contests will win bragging rights, as well as a prize that i'll specify a bit further down the line. Maybe something like $50 bucks via paypal or something would be cool :) If this sounds like an idea everyone is interested, and we get more than 6 people to consistantly participate, I'll get it going

I'm not a regular in the guild, but I thought I'd let you guys know I'm working on three novelles. All three are mostly orientated around dark humour, so I might let loose some sneak peeks as time goes on.

It seems like a good side-project for college, and maybe I'll be able to get one or two pieces published in university, small time or whatever.

Since I barely ever post here, you can ask me for a look at some of my work since December 2004, with a few viewable in my sig (though, that's nowhere near the complete set; it's just the "public" place).

The reason not many of my stories or poetry isn't on the net is because some people seem to think all my darker stories or poetry are in fact, non fiction and shouldn't be on the Internet.