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 | Posted On: 03/31/2005 At: 8:24:23 PM |
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The RPG Guild will revert back to the more traditional way of drafting members! Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, the infamous one post submission has been put back into play!
All I need to see is one post, so give it your best shot! Yes, Former Guild Members, this includes you, too. Posts need to be of your own original writing talents and at least five paragraphs long. Just post them right here, in this topic. There will be no posting of other's works as your own, if this is discovered you'll be disqualified! There will be no posting of other's PUBLISHED works, as this is illegal and you'll be uberdisqualified. When entering the Guild you are asking for full sentences, proper grammer and full grown posts.
Please keep in mind that we have no set, written out, standards for what we are looking for in your posts. Stick to the RPG rules and the Rules of the site and you'll be fine. We know what we're looking for. Posts will be graded semi-regularly but due to the constraints of real life, I can't say exactly when and where it'll happen. If you are not accepted, you can feel free to tryout again whenever you feel like it.
Please, please, PLEASE... Read the RPG Guild Commandments before you post here. You need to know the rules of the RPG Guild if you hope to be a part of it. I am also telling you now that entries containing a signature at the bottom will not be taken seriously. In order to Role play in the RPG Guild, you need to get used to turning them off with every post.
As a side note, if we have had previous difficulty with the content of your stories (meaning that you’ve posted clearly prohibited material) you will not be eligible to try out for the Guild. We will not disallow former Guild members based on the behavior of the Guild as a whole..however, I would like to make clear that you can be booted from the guild for being disrespectful, rabble rousing, or making soapbox speeches. Quite frankly; we don’t want to hear it.
EDIT: ?! Once you're accepted into the Guild, you MUST read the Guild Commandments topic found in the [Guild] Off the Record forum. You must also read the topic 'Welcome to the RPG Guild' to get a better sense of what you're doin'.
Basicaly, Once you're accepted you'll be allowed into the Guild Forum the [Guild] Off the Record Forum, and you will have your title changed. If any of these are not seen to within a reasonable amount of time, private message me and I will wafflestomp my peons.
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY TURN OFF YOUR SIGNATURES WHEN YOU SUBMIT YOUR ENTRY.
Good Luck!
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| - .B.3.W.4.R.3. -1- .L.1.V.3. ------~v^~^~^^^^ |
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| Posted On: 08/01/2005 At: 12:32:03 AM | | | Reply Link |
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EXAMPLE POST
Nicci's Submission: From '...Sanguinary Lullaby..'
Despite her growling stomach, Diana Triste attempted to sound perky and cheerful as she answered the phone in her best imitation receptionist voice. Since she was still in the office, she was obligated to at least try to sound like she enjoyed giving up her lunch break to help a coworker edit past due articles. She found it particularly difficult to get anything done, with all of the interruptions. Her current call would make strike four on the list of sidetracks in the past ten minutes. It wasn’t exactly time she could afford to waste.
While the person on the other end of the phone babbled on senselessly about a column proposal for next month’s issue, Triste stared at the screen in front of her. The cursor flickered in and out as she maneuvered the arrow keys throughout the article and sought out the mistakes that the system hadn’t caught on to.
“Do you know what I mean?” The cheery feminine voice on the other end of the phone laughed.
Diana sat there, her hazel eyes glued to the screen for a second. She had to remind herself to respond like she had actually been paying attention, “Yeah… Hey, listen; can I give you a call some other time? Maybe then we can work out some of the kinks I see in your idea. Let me transfer you back over to Rhonda. Leave your number with her and she will make sure I get in touch. Okay? Thanks. Bye.”
Hours drifted in and out of the busy building that housed the journalists and photographers for Composure Magazine and Diana still hadn’t found time to hunt down so much as a vending machine. She just didn’t have the time for it. They went to press in two days.
Temporarily situated in the cubicle next to her own, she ran her long and sleek fingers through her hair, clutching it at both sides of her head in a fist. She sighed heavily, staring at the atrocity of a ‘how to’ article and contemplated the fastest way to tell Angela that she had less than two hours to get it rewritten and reformatted. While two hours was plenty of time, Angela Harper seemed to suffer from a mild case of ADD. She could not write for more than ten minutes in a stretch before slinking off to someone else’s cubicle to pester them for some social interaction.
Diana released her hair and glanced down at the time on the clock at the right hand corner of the screen. Two more hours and she’d get to go home. There were only two more hours until she would get to peel off her clothes and crawl into bed. The thought alone made her smile.
The phone rang.
Her smile faded.
This call was different from the rest. It was Angela’s son calling to ask what time she’d get home. Despite the strict policy of ‘no personal calls on the clock,’ Diana let it slide and stepped away from the box so that Harper could chatter with her son.
When she retreated back to her own space, Triste searched her drive for the perfect picture to sub in Angela’s article. Just when she found it, she was called into her boss’s office for a general overview of the progress they’d made in her departments thus far into the evening. She gave her brief soapbox speech about how they need to look for a stronger staff and a better photographer but other than that, things had been going smoothly.
They told her that if she wanted a stronger team, she’d have to recruit them herself but otherwise she should keep up the good work. It was their way of telling her to deal with what she’d been given. They always pretended that they didn’t have time for her. Diana was promptly sent back to her department.
On the way back, she stopped by an old friend’s office not so much because she wanted to visit with an old acquaintance but more so because she knew that Lola Parks would always have a dish full of candy sitting on her desk.
By the time she finished whoring her conversational skills in exchange for free candy, it was just about the time she’d been waiting all day for. She made it back to her cubicle and gave the word for everyone to go ahead and save off what they were doing so that they could go home. They were gone in twenty minutes.
Diana Triste pulled the collar of her jacket in closer to her neck to defend it from the cold. The street wasn’t deserted but on this particular night there weren’t that many people roaming. Not that she blamed them.
Her apartment wasn’t far off; in fact, it was one of the reasons she’d chosen to work for Composure above the Gazette. It was closer to home.
The walk was probably fifteen minutes but she never noticed. There was always something more interesting to look at and she enjoyed the evening air. She fished her keys out of her purse and headed in the right direction. She would be home soon. She would kick off her shoes soon. She would sleep soon.
It sounded divine to her.
Some part of her was satisfied with the life she’d chosen. She had always enjoyed writing but for some reason it didn’t offer the same appeal that it once had. She was no longer intoxicated by knowing people read her work, she no longer got excited over new assignments. She took these things in stride and managed to put up with being there until they told her she could go.
Diana glanced up at the sky, her footsteps echoing on the sidewalk.
She wanted more.
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EXAMPLE POST
Hilde's Submission from Close to the Ground (Revised)
Our cities were drowning. My breath leaked out from in between my lips when curled into an amused smirk. I had just spent the last hour trying to create shapes with my breath like I had seen the old men doing with their cigarettes on countless street corners before I decided to park myself on this particular one. Under this particular awning. Back then I would have probably told you that I just didn't feel like walking any further. That my knees were creaking in the cold, my chest had gone lax from the relaxation of heavy thinking, and my feet moved only in anticipation of rest. Now I would tell you I was meant to be there at such particular moment so that a chain of high demanding events could begin their course. But then that would imply that it started with me, wouldn't it?
The wind howled through the buildings and side street alleys. She screamed at what we had become, ripping at our coats and hair. I didn't care much for the Elements. Some say they were once people so enraged by the injustice of the world that they became too great for their own bodies and were now nothing but obstacles for us to overcome, others say they were created as a form of continual punishment and a reminder to the fall of humanity. And still some say they were only trying to help us get back on our proper course. Granted I'd never actually spoken with an Element, I'd yet to meet one that was anything other than a menace to me or my family.
I was alone now, but I occasionally thought back on what I knew of my parents. My mother was kind and patient and wore a lot of hats and my father was stubborn and crass and had a dry sense of humor. I remember them laughing together by the street fire despite having just lost our home to East Gate for the third time. I remember these snippets about them that I can't piece together and make whole. My mother's favorite color was yellow. My father's favorite music was jazz. My mother's favorite food was fresh strawberries, of which I'd never even had, as they were indigenous to her neighborhood as a child and not to mine. My father's shoe size was thirteen. Though I have all these details somewhere in my memory, if you asked me, I would tell you honestly I can't even remember what they looked like.
My friends, as most young adults, were either dead or missing. I sat on a random street corner, watching some other kids break into the house across the alley, trying miserably, and failing, to make shapes with my breath. I hated today. Without knowing what yesterday had been, I sat wishing today away, starving for a past I had never even tasted. Were my hands as wrinkled as they felt?
“These gloves are getting old,” I realized. I reminded myself to try and remember again later that I would need new ones before winter hit.
The awning I sat with the intent of sleeping the night under was a deep plum, and the store behind me was a barely surviving bakery, though the doors were barred and everything under tight security. Nobody who bought truffles came this way at night, though. The daylight was for those who managed to scramble together something of a life in today’s world, and the night was reserved for us, the soldiers of the downfall. Though we were welcome in this part of town only. In East Gate's territory, however, not even in daylight did their kind move. I liked it here, somewhere in between. I didn't have to see people beaten to death as my nightly entertainment, yet I wasn't in foreign territory here either.
And so there I sat, amid the noise and mischievousness of the night, and waited, wished to see just a single star; a single light of hope.
That's when the can of peas fell into my lap. It must have been dropped by the girl who dashed past me, but as she drenched me with water when her foot collided with the sidewalk, ripping apart the puddle laying there only a moment ago, I wasn't feeling entirely thankful. I quickly shot to my feet as if that would help me to avoid further contamination from the rain.
“What the?” I shouted while more at the sudden inconvenience of my situation than in anyone in particular, but I was surprised when she glanced back at me and mouthed a word of apology. I stood there for a moment, my feet about shoulder width apart, my arms hung away from the rest of my body and I remained slightly hunched. I had turned my body into a strange and unrealistic form of a drying rack. It was just my initial reaction, however. Another moment and I would have realized that my efforts were fruitless and just gone back to being upset that I had been drenched. I would have, except that wasn't Fate's plan, apparently.
The man was tall and too well dressed for this part of town and he should have known better. He smelled of rich spices and I'm sure if I had to spend all day smelling like that I'd walk away with a headache strong enough to down a mule. He had a square face and jagged chin. His eyes were both a dark green and a bright yellow at the same time. Glowing, almost. My heart began racing. His eyes startled me. He wasn't very wet either.
“Which way did she go?” he said coolly.
I was pretty sure he meant the girl with the peas. I couldn't tear my gaze away from his startling eyes. What would a man like this want with a girl like her anyway? She stole a can of peas, sure, but why would someone other than the market employees chase after her? I spent too long thinking about it, because he grabbed my coat and shook me. My bones were still chilled. But was it from being drenched or was it from his eyes?
“Who’s ‘she’?” I said, just to be sure.
He pushed me back against the wall, staring at me. He looked down at the dropped can of peas and smirked. “Listen, smart ass,” he growled. Smart ass? I was known to be a smart ass at times, but I hadn’t even intended anything this time. I wasn’t trying to be a smart ass. Though now that I knew he was after the girl who dropped the peas I knew how it must have looked. “You don’t want to piss me off; I have a very bad, very short temper.”
I laughed. “I don't give a rat's ass about your supposed temper. You're in the wrong place, buddy. If you go much farther in this part of town and you'll have more to worry about than a girl who has stolen a measly can of peas from you.”
I don't recall him moving with me when I hit the wall. Dust fell around me and I hadn’t known he’d be that strong. Why was a well dressed man boldly charging down the street at this time of night? He was a sure target for mugging. And just attacking people who belonged in this area? It was brainless; careless, or was he just that good?
“Now one more time…” two other men in suits joined him. “Where. Is. She.” It wasn’t a question.
Why were they after her? Who were they? I wanted to know. But somehow I knew I wasn't going to get the answer from them. It's funny that back then I would have done anything to avoid unnecessary conflict. I liked minding my own business and I liked being left alone. But my insides stirred. I was intrigued like I hadn't been in a long time. I made my decision and took the verbal plunge.
“Boy…” I released the tension in my shoulders and slumped into a more casual stance. “You think you’ve got a bad temper.” I laughed. Surely they knew by then I was just being a nuisance. “You should see me!” I plunged my foot into his abdomen and pushed him away from me as best I could. His grip failed to keep, and I toppled backward into the brick wall. I looked like a ridiculous toy monkey with its arms flapping wildly while it tried to stop from toppling over. But I stayed on my feet.
I had already made my move, no turning back now. My palms were sweaty and my breathing getting fast, adrenaline fueling my heart. The only thing I regret looking back on that moment wasn't that I was stupid enough to take on three men that were obviously dangerous, but instead that I wasn't in the right state of mind to grab my chemistry book, or the can of peas. Instead I took the moment of shock and surprise to take off down the street after Pea Girl. I was soaking now, running in the rain like I actually had feeling again. It felt so good. I felt alive. While thinking, I kept glancing down the passing alleys.
Empty. Empty. Empty.
It took a lot of effort and practice to be able to focus on at least three things simultaneously, let alone at such a fast pace. I didn’t know what I was doing, why I was running.
I was running from these men in suits, sure, but I could turn down any of these empty alleyways and escape. Hide until they were gone. So why was I still running?
Why was I looking for her?
I remembered her soaking hair covering her face as she turned to apologize. She was being chased by these men, yet she still took the time to turn and apologize?
As I breeched the corner of Emmit and Wake (it's forever engrained in my memory) I saw in my peripheral vision someone getting yanked into a passageway. Even though it now pains me to admit that had it been under normal circumstances I would have just looked the other way, when I saw it I stopped.
There she was, eyes wide; her shoulder length black hair was sprawled about her face. Her eyes were frosted ice blue and full of shock and surprise, rain soaked her alabaster skin. She was holding two cans of peas. She couldn’t have been much older than me, but then again, the man behind her couldn’t have been either. He hovered behind her with his hand firmly planted over her mouth. She wasn’t struggling even though he appeared about to kill her.
She was still clutching those cans of peas.
“You,” I breathed, stepping quickly into the alley. “Those suits back there, were they chasing you?”
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EXAMPLE POST
A scream thundered across the cobblestone streets of London.
A thick sheet of dense gray fog remained stagnant throughout the night. The pale yellow moonlight was projected through the haze, filtering through any crack it could find. The buildings that surrounded the area were of red brick, though they had stood there for quite an age for vines crawled up and down the walls, creeping through the broken windows and into even the tiniest of holes. It was the slums of the town known as London, a dead city ravaged by the death and disease that plagued its lost sanctity. Long ago had it been abandoned, and now it was just a ghost town of sorts where very few lived. A broken streetlamp stood erect in the middle of the empty street, every so often would its light flicker casting eerie shadows about the cement. One particular shadow, however, stood out amongst the rest.
A lone man emerged from the fog, and he as he calmly strolled down the pavement one could tell he was of strange decent. He wore a pair of sunglasses, the tint deep enough to conceal his eyes, and anyone wise could tell you that wearing sunglasses when it’s deathly dark out is not good on one’s sight. His unkempt blonde hair was long and wild, his bangs falling over most of his face though unable to hide the sly grin on the man’s face. The rest of his attire consisted of nothing but an open plaid jacket that exposed his toned, slender body, some baggy white slacks that were cut off at the knee, and a pair of open-toed sandals on two rather large feet. Strangest of all about this man was that strapped across his back with a thick brown rope was a weapon uncommon for this age – a crossbow. Its sleek pistol-shaped handle and rough exterior would give one the impression that it had been used quite a lot, but for what reason? Accompanying the weapon was a quiver of wooden crossbow bolts at the unfathomable guy’s waist. If anything was to be interpreted, it would be that this man was up to something.
As he continued along the streets curved sidewalk he began whistling. It was a happy tune that one could dance to, but he did this so loudly it made it sound as if he was trying to grab the attention of another person, though it was for a fact that no other humans walked the same street as him that night. It was a tireless effort as he soon surrendered the feat and just drifted onwards in silence, hands in pocket and head hung low. Once he came under the light of another street lamp, one that was working properly, he plopped down into the wooden bench beneath him and removed a cigarette from inside his jacket. Though he stuck it in his mouth he did not light it as he sat there in quiet contemplation, staring at his reflection through a small puddle on the ground. It was a rather cold evening, a storm had just ended not too long ago and a chill still hung low in the air. Pulling his jacket tighter around himself, he simply sat there and lolled the cigarette around in his mouth. Only a moment or two passed before suddenly an object sped by in front of the drowsy man, though he didn’t see its reflection in the pool of water he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a woman’s behind. Tall, slender, and pale was her skin. She wore a long skimpy black dress, however her sex-appealing features were not what caught his attention, for he noticed that something about her that caused a more immediate interest. Even as she passed under the next street lamp he could see it, she was still missing something that all normal human-beings should don: a shadow.
He grinned once again; the cigarette curled into the corner oh his mouth. “Well Chris,” he said to himself smoothly under a chilled breath, “time to nab us a lady.” Without further adieu, he began his pursuit on the fine young specimen. Half-running after her along the sidewalk he managed to retain a cool posture, though he did look rather like a complete moron as he slid behind every wall and crevice to hide from the lady. After what seemed like a perennial chase, the woman stopped in front of a small apartment building and gazed skyward into one of the open windows. Intense light was beaming out of that single window through broken shutters, a signal of life it was. Before walking into the building she glanced around once more to make sure no one was watching, something that added to her already heavy suspicion. Quickly following her every move, Chris barreled through the front door.
The lobby of the apartment was just as spooky and dark as the streets, though more cobwebs and broken furniture littered the vicinity. The elevator door looked as if someone had taken a wrecking ball to it, and the front desk was more a fire place now. The walls bore huge gaping holes in them and pieces of the ceiling lay scattered about the floor. It was just another old two-story apartment building.
Chris had not seen the lady when he walked in, but just as he rounded the nearest corner he saw a pale leg disappear behind a swinging door. Slowly creeping towards the door he noticed that it read “stairwell”, and he gently pushed it open and listened. After hearing nothing but silence he stalked in and started to ascend the creaky spiral stairs, careful not to make to much noise so as to not attract unwanted attention. This eventually brought him to the second floor. The hallway was empty; no signs of the lady, though there was light seeping out of the crack beneath the door to one of the rooms, apparently the same room that they observed outside. It was only then that he heard the blood curling scream echo down the hallway, if it were any louder it could have shattered even the thickest of glass. Without a moment more to spare, Chris drew the crossbow, loaded it with a bolt, and dashed towards the room. With a mighty kick he made the door burst open off its hinges, bringing the crossbow before him, making sure his finger was wrapped tightly about the trigger. The cigarette fell from Chris’ lips as his mouth gaped open in horror. There sprawled on the ground was a young man, two large wounds in his neck pouring what seemed an endless amount of blood. His eyes were rolled back into his skull, his body as limp as a rag doll, he was deader than a doornail. On top of him was the lady, two large fangs exposed, both of which were drenched in dark crimson. A vampire.
Yes, vampires were the very beings that caused the destruction of London many decades ago. It started out as a small epidemic, barely anyone was attacked back then, but indeed it had grew larger and larger with every night, more and more vampires were spawning and reeking havoc upon the night. The blood suckers were not like those you would hear about in science fiction tales and such, these were much worse. Though they were still nocturnal monsters, they wielded speed and strength of an unknown manner. They could easily break a man’s neck as if it were a twig, and just as easily pick up an auto-mobile and throw it around like a ball. The only way deemed possible of killing these beings was by putting a stake through their heart; crosses would not burn them and holy water would only worsen their aggravation. They were not the type to be toyed around with.
There was a hiss and then a flash of black as she swiftly leapt to her feet, clearly angered about her dinner being disturbed by some ill-dressed freak. She then advanced upon Chris, her jaw widening, readying itself for another taste of blood, though it would not happen. Straightening out the crossbow he pulled the trigger, the bolt releasing from its rest, a lightning quick snap and the projectile launched itself straight into her gut. Stunned, the vampire looked down at her wound, though she only hissed as she yanked the bolt out, snapping it in half between finger and thumb with what seemed to be done in the utmost ease. Chris had missed her heart, and now he was about face the consequences.
Unable to reload his weapon in time, the lady seized her assailant by his neck, first slamming a knee into his chest before whirling around in one swift movement surrendering her grip, sending the man hurtling through the window. Shards of jagged glass and wood came crashing down towards the earth with Chris as he groped at the air, desperately hoping to snatch anything that would prevent his fall. It would not happen as he plummeted downwards, fortunately for him he happened to land headlong into a tree. Though not the most comfortable of safe places to land, he remained uninjured and unshaken enough to still retain consciousness and fight. Looking up, he saw flying swiftly through the air, quickly following his descent, the vampire. Years or practice flowed into his limbs as he quickly threw his left arm backwards to his quiver, retrieving a bolt and locking it into place. Without another second to lose he rose the crossbow firing once more, this time his aim was true. The bolt flew majestically thorough the air, piercing deep into the cold, dark heart of the vampire, killing her before she even hit the Earth. Her body lay there motionless, the blood of her victims draining from her lethal wound.
Sighing with the utmost relief, Chris rubbed his neck and adjusted the sunglasses back properly upon his nose. This may have not been the closest time he’s come to getting turned into a vampire’s meal, but it certainly wasn’t the easiest job he’s done. Dropping down from the tree he dusted himself off, placing another cigarette between curled lips. Kicking the corpse of his fallen enemy he grinned once more. It was just another vampire dead, only one of the remaining thousands that roamed freely about the treacherous city. They would continue to live on even after Chris would die, but it was a vow that he had made long ago that drove him to eliminate as many of the monsters his fate allowed. Yes, it was just another night under the full pale moon for the petty vampire hunter, in the city which harbored all of Earth’s nightmares he would die some day, for despite the evil that resided this was his home. The fog still remained heavy and gray as Chris disappeared into its misty sheets, and it was only during that final still moment that one could hear that dreadful noise echo across the dark pathways of the city:
A scream thundered across the cobblestone streets of London.
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[ Edited by: pants on 09/06/2005 9:55:39 PM ] |
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| Posted On: 08/02/2006 At: 12:39:37 AM | | | Reply Link |
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EXAMPLE POST
Amber sat in her bed, propped up with the aid of two feather-stuffed pillows. Raising her knees, she dragged her laptop closer, the luminescent light of AM's forums fending off the darkness of night. It was a quiet night like most nights in her quiet neighborhood. Neighborhood... The trill theme of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood rang through her thoughts without a conscious effort on her part. "Won't you be my neighbor?" Amber thought to herself. In the distance, a dog barked once... twice... then silence. Freaky.
Her cell phone, now doubling as an alarm clock, stared back at her darkly. In only a few hours, the soothing voice of Gerard Butler would once again be the first voice she heard after waking, the beautiful lyrics of "The Point of No Return" rousing her from sleep. Sleep? Would it ever come? Sighing, Amber adjusted her silver-framed screen and relaxed.
She had been having trouble sleeping since her last talk with Tonia and April. Smooth talkers that they were, those two had managed to keep Amber awake until five a.m. the previous morning. Amber smirked at the memory. Okay, so Amber wouldn't shut up and droned their ears off most of the night if truth be told. She couldn't help it. Once the issue of law came into the conversation, no waving of the white flag would bring her diatribes to a halt. Only after expending herself fully from the law's point of view, as well as a woman's, did she finally hop off her soapbox.
Sighing as she felt a slight headache in the making, Amber tapped a few keys to bring up the Active Topics' page. The name 'Nicci' caught her attention. Glancing at her paper plate awards, Amber decided to see what her dear friend was up to. Post after post of RPGuild submissions scrolled past and the seconds slowly turned into minutes. Sleep still refused her silent pleas.
"What the hell," Amber said to no one in particular, bringing up WordPad. But what to write? Having read Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree earlier to her brother, it was not surprising that the phrase "Think, think, think" ran repeatedly through her thoughts in the familiar voice of that loveable honey jones-ing bear.
Unfortunately, the word 'jones' was enough to bring to mind Bridgette Jones's Diary. My, how Amber enjoyed the embarassing predicaments Bridgette continuously found herself in. But what she loved most was that Bridgette, in all her modern gal glory, found her happily ever after with a guy who loved her just the way she is. Amber sighed again, the sound escaping on a dreamy note this time.
Giving herself a mental shake, Amber straightened. Jumping from one thought to the next was a constant habit of hers, for her mind refused to stop. It was a normal occurence, but at one in the morning, it became a bane. Stretching, her thoughts finally returned to the topic glaring brightly at her. But what to write? Memories of old flittered through her thoughts: glimpses of Hildre waging text battles in a gundam, Hildre butting heads with verbal antagonists, and Hildre just butting heads because that's what she did best.
Thrumming her fingers against her laptop, Amber closed her eyes. No, none of those would do. But what would do? Grimacing, Amber clicked the Submit button. It would have to do.
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EXAMPLE POST
A blast, a loud ringing sound and then darkness. I awoke to five fellow Marines around me saying, "Wake up man we got to move they got us dialed in - we gotta make a run for it!" I slowly got to my feet wondering what happened, my battle buddy Jake handed me my M40, “You ok? A mortar round landed right near you." I looked at my self, "I think so, I don’t know what happened." Our Lt. hurried over, yelling simultaneously, "We got to move through this city; they are on the other side! You two are the best sharpshooters here, see if you can draw some attention away from us." I looked at Jake, "Guess it’s time to rock and roll!"
I grabbed my gear, and my M40a3 sniper rifle and we started through the city. I looked around; nobody was outside which was a clear sign something bad was going to happen. We stopped at a street corner; I crouched against the wall and peered down the empty street before me. I took a quick peak from behind the corner and saw two guys walking our way with AK-47s. My eyes quickly found Jake as I brought my hand up to my face. I pointed my first two fingers toward my eyes, and showed two fingers. This told him that I saw two enemy soldiers nearby. Jake and I made sure our weapons were loaded. I could hear my heart pounding against my ribcage as the foot steps of the enemy alerted me to how near they were.
I could see two shadows on the ground when they suddenly stopped by the corner. I could hear them talking, their Arabic words were fast and difficult to translate. The enemy walked down the street right passed us. I tapped Jake on the shoulder, gaining his attention so that we moved around the corner and down the street to the next corner and down that street.
Suddenly, a familiar sound came screaming in. I could hear blasts from explosions from the mortar rounds close by. We moved several blocks into the city when Jake said, "There they are - on that build over there! See them?" I looked to where he was pointing and could see ten guys on a roof.
We moved onto a roof at the end of the street we were on. In this position we had the perfect view to snipe. I laid on my stomach with rifle and all. I could see the outline of several of their faces which were covered with turban raps. I took a slow breath, I could suddenly feel the heat of the noon sun beating down on me much like the stress of the forthcoming shots. The dry desert air mixed with that sun was almost unbearable and difficult to breath. This being another shooting drill for me, I sucked in this air.
I slowed my breathing down and said a prayer for the enemy who had no idea what was about to happen.
I took another breath. They had started lobbing more round out towards our fellow Marines. With them intent on murdering my brothers, I took the distraction for what it was worth and took my first shot.
Time seemed to slow down.
The bullet hit.
One of them fell off the edge of the roof. Jake, my spotter, took his shot and picked one of them off as well. I muttered another quick prayer and pulled the trigger. I could see through the scope and that shot was a head shot, a red mist exploding from other side of his face. The enemy was now alert to the situation. They ran from the roof in an awful hurry.
We held our position, having not been exposed yet, to see if the enemy would foolishly return and give us a few more easy kills. Jake radioed in to our Lt. to move up - that the enemy mortars were no longer a deciding factor in the lives of our brother-in-arms. Just after he finished that sentence a spraying show of AK bullets rang out. I could hear the bullets hitting the house we were on. Our position had been compromised.
There! At the end of the street with RPKs and AKs. I was lucky enough to think to look up, finding another guy on the roof with a RPG. I yelled, "Jake we gotta move!!"
We packed our stuff within seconds, moving to the stairs to get off the roof before we were compromised.
I looked back to see a rocket coming at us. Thinking quickly, I dropped inside the house. The rocket hit the side of the house that we had been camped out on. Not wanting to stay in the ruined house, Jake kicked down the door of the house and we started running down the street as fast as we could.
I could still hear gun fire following closely behind us.
We turned into an ally and I heard the terrifying sound of bullets ricocheting off the wall where we had taken cover behind. We ran down the dark ally, running through the sheets of cloth that were drying on lines that were strung up between the two buildings.
We ran to the end of the ally and ran into another house. I slid down the plastered wall, sitting there as I tried to catch my breath. Jake was busy radioing in to the LT, "Sir, we are taking enemy fire. We are pinned down inside a house, over." I could hear the LT’s voice responding back over the crackle of radio, "We heard the gun shots. We are one block away and moving in fast to support you guys. Great job with the mortars."
We waited. It felt like days before a Marine kicked in the door. It was a sight for sore eyes as four more moved in right behind him. In truth, it had only been five minutes, but that was the longest five minutes I had ever had to wait – lines at the supermarket had never seemed so long.
We went outside and the Lt. yelled a few inspiring words, "Let’s get some!" All of us started marching into the streets to go repay a little dept that we owed to the enemy.
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[ Edited by: Trunks on 01/17/2008 11:16:36 AM ] |
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| Posted On: 06/04/2009 At: 10:33:03 PM | | | Reply Link |
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Update?!!
Yes, I have deleted posts. I do apologize if you didn't have yours saved somewhere on your computer but it was getting to be a lot of hassle to look through just to review some posts! I am currently in the process of adding members to the Guild and private messaging them updates on where they stand as far as their applications! So keep your eyes peeled.
Literally.
It will change your life.
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| - .B.3.W.4.R.3. -1- .L.1.V.3. ------~v^~^~^^^^ |
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| Posted On: 06/12/2009 At: 12:53:39 AM | | | Reply Link |
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"Sharp left turn in- fifty- feet"
My eyes flitted open slowly and slowly brought everything into focus. Where was I? I was sitting, restrained in a seat, in a room filled with a slight wisps of white smoke, or was it a powder, slowly drifting in the warm air piping in from the vents piping in around me? I tried to sit up straight, but the whole room seemed to be on a slant and in my freshly-awaken state, it was disorienting.
Details were coming to me faster now. There was a wheel in front of me, with what appeared to be a white pillowcase sewn into its hub, a stick on my right with mysterious symbols next to it, an empty seat farther to my right, empty, aside from several bags that smelled of salt and grease, as well as several large cups spilling various fizzing liquids on the floor below.
"Sharp left turn in- fifty- feet"
What was that? A voice? I looked down at my feet. There was a plastic, rectangular box with a glowing display featuring a curving red line and a green triangle. I couldn't make sense of it and tossed it into the seat adjacent to me where it splashed in a small puddle of the brown, fizzy liquid.
I tried to turn around to see behind my seat, but was held back by the restraints. I frantically pulled at them until I noticed a push button release at their base and freed myself. The restraints slid back into the wall of the room while I looked behind me.
There was nothing there but two seats, also filled with various accumulations of junk, a bag filled with foul-smelling cloths, various papers with writing I couldn't decipher, and more bags that smelled of stale, greasy food.
I leaned my head on the cool window next to me in a hope to calm the raging headache when the wall itself shifted and I tumbled out of my seat into the cold.
I landed in a wet, freezing chill and scrambled to my feet. I had fallen into snow out of what I suddenly recognized as a red sedan. Was it mine? Wait a minute, who was I? How did I get here? I took in my surroundings, shivering in the snowfall. There was a sheer rock face behind the car which bore signs of being recently upset, did the car (I still didn't know if it was mine or even who I was then) tumble down it? I looked at the car, and it was in a sad state. Part of the roof had been dented in, as though someone had dropped a heavy rock smack dab in its center, the trunk was gone, lying some ten feet away, being quickly buried by the snowfall, and a single headlight flickered feebly, illuminating nothing but the small rise of snow in front of it.
A particularly cold gust of wind made me retreat to the relative warmth of the car's cabin. I shut the door and held my hands in front of the vents, but the warm air had ceased to blow from them. I shivered and looked around for a jacket in the bag of foul-smelling clothes. I found none, but instead settled for two layers of gray shirts, and green cloth shorts. My hands and feet were still freezing, which made everything worse. I couldn't sit here and slowly freeze to death, I had to try and find a road-
A road! The small box I had found was a GPS!
I leaned over to the passenger side and retrieved the GPS. I tapped the screen in hopes of getting it to work, but nothing happened. I tapped it again, then a third time. It had soaked in the brown liquid I suddenly remembered to be soda for too long and had short-circuited. I swore to myself in words I didn't know, but felt right out of habit and tried to remember what I had glimpsed on the screen before I had discarded the GPS through my pounding headache. A single, curving red line... a road, and a green arrow, obviously me. The road had to be at the top of the rock face... I must have driven my car off the road... was it my car? Yes, it was. The plate read "KNAVERY" it was a gift from my mother- I tried to remember my mother but couldn't. I was suffering from that memory-loss condition... Insomnia? Was that it? No it wasn't, but it was the only thing I could think of at the moment.
I stepped outside the car again and looked down either side of the rock face, the top of which I could see the crest on which the road sat. To my left, the sheer cliff extended into darkness and swirling snow. To my right, just the same.
I didn't know who I was, what I was doing, or where I was; lost in a snowstorm in the middle of the night, no jacket and only a few layers of my old gym clothes to keep me warm. I turned left and started walking. I had to, or no one would find me.
No one would find me...
Find me...
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Combined Post(s) from RPG ~ Three Knights of Honor.
The cloak over Magicelle's spiral locks of hair across her head blew back in the soft breeze of the late hours of the night. Her silent, darkened face shown hardened emotions as her mind fumbled through glitched memories of her past that desperatly wanted to be recovered. A sharp pain shot up Magicelle's forehead and she winced, reaching up and rubbing her forehead and temples lightly with her finger tips. Her brow hung down low over her eyes as she frowned, angry at the pain. It came each time she focused upon her memories; the reminders of her past and former life. What could they be hiding? What could this pain be covering up?
Brushing away a small trickle of sweat from her brow, Magicelle tilted her head back and looked over the depthes of the hill side that led down into a large stream that twisted its way from the country of Timat. Her silent glare over the moon lit water of the stream was broken to the sound of a light coughing gasp and a splattering of water. Her eyes began to focus and shift down towards the stream, eyeing over it until she caught a glance of moment along the shore edge. A shadowed being, unknown in the darkness of that night, seemed to be thrashing as it pulled itself from the cold, running waters by the clutter of rocks on the edge. Magicelle's eyes narrowed as her body rose, the blood red colored cloak falling around her body. Her feet moving quickly behind the ragged cloth of the cloak to the waters edge.
The light from the moon and stars in the sky began to give away the figure that now lay, gasping for air on the rocks and mud. A woman, shivering and her clothes stained in faded blood. The water having washed most of the blood away already.
At first, the woman went motionless, as if her soul had already just passed, but then her eyes parted. She had stopped shivering and her face had no longer a show of pain in it. Magicelle kneeled beside her on one knee, reaching out to brush a few small strands of the woman's wet hair away from her face. As the woman looked into Magicelle's eyes, her arm shakingly rose to meet Magicelle's cheek. And as the woman's cold, damp hand touched her cheek, she felt as if her breath was taken from her lungs. Magicelle let out a low gasp, but nothing. Her gasping was silent and she couldn't breathe.
Magicelle's heart pounded under her chest as visions rendered her unable to move or remain mentally concious as her body continued to kneel there next to the woman. Her eyes went a faded gray from their normal pale green. Images flashed within her mind, as if right before her eyes. Of a time when she was small, young. A time when she had a visible and knowing mother and father. Even a place she had once called home. Her mother was smiling at her, standing beside her grinning father as he wrapped one arm around her mother and held her close. They reached their hands out towards her, but as she took a step closer, their faces changed from happyness to horror. Fire bursted through the door and men with dark eyes rushed in, taking her parents, her home, and everything of her once good life from her. With a shattering loud scream, she returned to reality. Magicelle's faded grey eyes finally returning to their green color and she took in gulps of air as she quickly struggled to breathe. Panting, she slumped over on both her knees and her palms splattered into the mud under her. With her breath catching up to her finally, her head lifted. The woman, she lay there. Eyes peering into the stary sky, souless.
"She.... passed on," Magicelle spoke in a gentle voice, still breathing a bit heavily. She could remember in those images she seen, within the fire that destroyed her life and true self, rose glowing, aqua blue eyes from behind the fire and black smoke. Just then realizing, those eyes weren't only in the images, but they stood before her in the water depths of the center of the stream. A large snake like serpent rose itself slowly from the water. It's body trailing along the surface that seemed to go on forever. Those eyes, the glowing, aqua blue eyes. They were the same.
Within that moment of looking into the frightening creature's eyes, it seemed to sooth her. Almost as if it understood pain. Magicelle's pain. Both past, present, and possibly even the pain the future holds for her. Magicelle's teeth clenched tightly as she watched the serpent's mouth part and reveal hundreds of razor sharp fangs. Though instead of snapping at her, it let out a soft, thick breath upon her. The air sparkled with what looked like blue glitter as it touched over Magicelle's face. Her eyes closed, feeling the cool, calming sensation that enshrouded her body. However, when she openned them, it vanished and the serpent was gone.
From the corner of her eyes, there was a light glow of blue and silver sparkles that encased over the armor in which the lifeless woman was wearing. And from underneath the armor, her body faded in what seemed particals of matter and vanished from the ground. From existance. Leaving only the glowing armor before her on the ground. As Magicelle's arm reached out and her fingers embraced the cold, hard metal of the armor, the glow faded. She examined the armor and noticed a symbol on the very front center.
"A snake? No... A serpent."
A few moments had passed on that night. The bare spot upon the ground where they woman had lay once before Magicelle now gone. Gathering up her newly obtained armor, she stuffed them into her pack that she slung over her should and rested against her lower side, along her hip.
Shifting within her cloak, she stared over at the high walls of Timat. Off in the distance, Magicelle could see the dim lights of the torches that the guards stood near. Checking and questioning every person that dared to enter the city.
"Heh..." She chuckled under her breath with a grin following as it smeared over her face. Magicelle's eyes shifted off to the east wall. Water poured and ran from the large water tunnels that ran underneath the city grounds. Knowing it would become a hassle to get through the guards, she figured she might as well go around. Magicelle had always been good at sneeking around. She was more like a ninja if anything. Reaching her hand back, Magicelle brushed back a few locks of her hair from her shoulders and to her back before starting off, step by step, towards the waters shallow edge.
Removing her cloak, she tucked it inside her pack as well with her shoes and socks. Then she took her first step into the cold, dark water. She shivered for a moment and goosebumps covered over her skin, but only briefly until her body grew used to the cool temperature. Then forward she went into the murky waters. Sloshing quietly as possible as she used one hand and her two legs to manuver herself through the water, keeping her above the surface. Her spare hand holding her pack above the water as so it does not dampen anything inside it.
It only took a few minutes to reach the openning of the waterway. The water was low that ran from out of it. Tossing her pack up into the tunnel to the side, as to make sure most of it does not get too wet, she grasped the edge of the water covered steel and lifted her body from out of the water and inside. Quickly grabbing hold of her pack, slinging it over her shoulder once again, she rose to her feet and made her way down the pitch black tunnel. Her feet splattering in the running water around them. Using the sound of people and city noises to guide her to an exit.
Magicelle seen a glimmer of light from torches through metal bars above her, leading to the surface of Timat. Listening and waiting, she heard hardly any human-like sounds and realized now was her opportune moment to make the climb. Getting creative, Magicelle used her pack as a tool. Swinging it up and against the metal bars, knocking it out of alignment and oepnning the passage way to dry land. With a quick toss, up went her bag and then a jump and pull, her along with it. Placing the metal bars back in place to make sure no one will notice a thing out of place.
Then her heart stopped for a moment.
"Footsteps..." Magicelle mumbled to herself, and she grew a tad pale.
Quickly rumaging through her bag, she pulled out her shoes, ignoring her socks, and then her cloak along with it. Leaping up, practically jumping into her shoes, squeazing them on, and throwing her blood red cloak around her body properly. Her pack back to her shoulder where it belong. From around the corner came a guard. He was patrolling the city streets that night it seemed. He took a look at her and gave a pouted face.
"What are you doing out here so late, lady? Are you lost?" He spoke, but not exactally in a hospitable manner.
Magicelle shook her head, but did not speak and quickly brushed past the guard and hastily made her way into the main streets of the city. The guard watching her, but thinking nothing much of it, and continued on his patrol. Magicelle let out a heavy sigh and as she regained control of herself, she looked down the dimly lit city streets. Only a few lights were on at a few places. Her body was worn by then and cold with it. So of course, she immediately caught sight of an Inn a few shops down. A few people were entering it as she made her way over. She read the sign, 'Tavern and Inn'.
Pushing aside the doors, Magicelle could already feel the warm radiate over her body and calm her nerves and chills. As one man approched and asked for a room. He was averagly tall for a man, probably around six feet in height. Slim. And he had the brightest red hair she probably ever seen. She was unable to study his face however, as he never turned to show himself to her, and he made his way from the counter and off to locate his room. Letting out a sigh, Magicelle wandered herself up to the very same counter and looked at the woman behind it.
"Yes... a room for the night please," Magicelle spoke in a low, monotone voice.
The woman behind the counter studied her for a moment and gave a reply, "Twenty silver for the room, hun."
Magicelle nodded to her and reached into her bag, pulling out a small money purse, and taking out the pay. Handing it to the lady as the lady placed the room key onto the table infront of her.
"You room is the at the top of the stairs, fourth door on the left..." She spoke to Magicelle, studying her a bit longer before turnning away.
Immediately, Magicelle turnned and shuffled her damp feet that sank into her now partial damp shoes across the Tavern and to the stairs to make her way to her room.
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| Posted On: 09/21/2009 At: 01:10:58 AM | | | Reply Link |
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Well, that is my post above. ( And yes, I can prove it by any information needed. ) I was wondering when might these be checked up on and when results will be coming back in for us. Also, if given a spot in the RPGuild, I would like it if I could get it placed on this account ( again ). Since that is my writing above.
Thanks;
britcandy
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| Posted On: 10/01/2009 At: 10:54:26 AM | | | Reply Link |
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AnimeMetro no longer has an RPG Guild. While I appreciate your applications, you may continue your writing ventures in our regular RPG forum.
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| - .B.3.W.4.R.3. -1- .L.1.V.3. ------~v^~^~^^^^ |
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