Welcome to Gaia! ::


Hello everyone! Welcome to my fifth time hosting a writing contest on Gaia, however this time it's different!

I've had an open writing contest for gay rights. An essay contest.
Adopted a poetry contest. Run an alliteration and rhyme poetry competition and am currently hosting "Simple Sentiments".

So what do I want now?

Now, just in time before NaNoWriMo I've decided to do prose. I'm focusing on a short scene, either written for the contest or taken out of the middle of another work you've written. The scene is to be neither to be a start to a story, nor a conclusion.

When it comes to judging I'm focusing on Characters, Communication and Culture.
Of course, everything else is always adored. Whilst it ought be short I'm looking for a thick slab of text, interesting and involved.

What does "short" mean? Not a great deal! You use as many words as you need for a "short" section of your story! Or as few a words you need to capture the scene you wish to enter.

Your section should require no explaination before or afterwards.

Everyone likes prizes, 'course.
On offer we have not a great deal, sorry.

At the time being -

1st - 8,000g
2nd - 5,000g
3rd - 2,000g

This will rise over the next month with any other funds I generate.
Any donations will also go straight into the prize pool!

A great Thankyou to the Writers Workshop and Contest Charity Foundation. (WW&CC), for a 10K grant! Please check out their links below!

25th October

1. ThinMick - Page 1
2. xoxoVampiressxoxo - Page 1
3. walking_in_the_rain - Page 1
4. Johannaa - Page 2
5. Tofu Pannie - Page 2
6. Blushing Buttcheeks - Page 2
7. Vanetica - Page 2
8. gloria_wong_91 - Page 3
9. cyber_hero - Page 3
10. Hanakami - Page 3
11. Ellyrianna - Page 3
12. EternaIYume - Page 4
13. Aki Korigashine - Page 4
14. Cherokee Tampons - Page 4
15. EternaIYume - Page 4
16. triplenegative - Page 5
17. Infusionist - Page 5
18. Hoketai - Page 5
19. [Alphabravo] - Page 5
20. Mekaama - Page 5
21. PixieMist - Page 5
22. ren sohma - Page 6
23. El Hammo - Page 7
24. El Hammo - Page 7
25. Xannyia - Page 7

1st - triplenegative - 8,000g

I'd like to apologise for not being able to chose between the various works. However, with such an array of styles, I'd like to congratulate the first two place getters, on their use of characters. I had triplenegative in 1st place, for her wonderful use of a seemingly obnoxious character. The style suited the character and had a very unpleasent after-taste. I do trust this was entirely her intentions, as she presented a situation which confronted the reader and made them likely to experience personal conflict with the main character. Such a style often makes for an interesting read, and I'm glad to have seen it used in this competition.

2nd - [Alphabravo] - 5,000g
[Alphabravo] presented four characters. I found the phrase explaining the absence of one of the characters a tad irking. However, other then that one line, I found the section to be very well done. The interaction between the characters was realistic and I personally felt the air of un-ease was amplified, by the light show of relationships between the characters. This is mainly because of imagery used through out the piece, which required no further explaination of the characters. For this, I must really congratulate the use of imagery in this work.

Runner Ups - 1000g

I enjoyed this piece, the layout and the commentary used through out the piece. It was fairly simple to browse through and read over, though most importantly, it's enjoyable. Maybe a tad over-worked, but generally all in style. My only real problem was that this was a competition for middle sections of stories and I couldn't feel where this fitted into another piece. Besides that, all good.


Very nice. I'd have to say a little over done in places and not the strongest start, but, I found this a charming entrance which gives away a lot about the scenario and characters at hand. To introduce the appearance and personality of Flo in full and the odd hair colours, all in such a short scene, I find a bit jarring to read. All I really feel is lacking from this lovely scene is a bit of revision, hopefully to smooth it out a bit.

I generally enjoyed this piece. I enjoyed the interaction between Dickie and the child, and the kind of character Dickie was. I also took fancy to the way you mentioned Dickie's intentions (namely of getting a smile out of the child). For me though, the start didn't hold together. I felt the comments about the drugs being prescribed as “pointless”, were rather long and almost insulting to doctors. However, from the point after you described the whispering in the waiting room, the writing really picked up. Quite enjoyable.

Blushing Buttcheeks
Another on the runner-up list, I felt this entry didn't quite hold together. I found the use of the “s**t hitting the fan” image, too weak for the strong language it was using (along with the bashing of the random object). However, I found Vivian a most colourful character. I found myself enjoying a count-down scene, which is rather unusual. For a middle section of a story, I considered it a fair addition and added spice. (Maybe just requiring a bit of polishing, here and there.)

You have, in few words, created a realistic scenario accompanied by rather realistic characters. The boy is a character, which people can quickly image. There's great imagery on hand in here, depending on the different views of each reader. All in all, rather enjoyable. I'm expectant of more detail into the king's personality, later in that story.

Tofu Pannie
Last, but not least, is Tofu Panni's work. I felt it was a tad rushed, but, I felt it had suitable suspence and did a good job of holding together. More so, because all the themes and pieces were put together so quickly. Rather quick on everything, but showing potential for good character development. There's a lot of room for it, I just felt too much was given away too soon.
Pretty good over-all, though.

So there's no entry fee? This is a good contest idea, especially for me. I tend to write the middle of my stories before I even write the beginning.
1BreatheNoMore8's avatar

Nimble Lover

I'm thinking about entering, I need the gold for my avi. biggrin

Anywho, I was wondering, is there any specific theme for this?

Or just character, communication, and culture?
No entry fee, no themes!
I ought adjusted the above, because it isn't very clear about that at all.

I'm looking at the use of characters, communication and culture.
That isn't actually a required theme.

ThinMick's avatar

2,850 Points
  • Forum Regular 100
  • Full closet 200
Entry removed.
Oh dear, sorry.

But, I'm looking for prose, and play scripts do not count for such.

Also, I said no explainations for your work - This is so people do not describe their characters beforehand or the senario.

Sorry about that, but, it's not suitable to be entered. Please read the rules more carefully.
ThinMick's avatar

2,850 Points
  • Forum Regular 100
  • Full closet 200
Never one to give up after one small misunderstanding. sweatdrop Let me try that again... in prose, this time.

Something about her fascinated him; her smile and humour were like a cool wind, soothing to his raw state. Obviously, she was a doer of things -- a woman alone on the road has no time to wait for things to be done. Recalling that he'd just put up a stew, he invited her to come in and have supper with him.

"My name is Morrigan," she said, as she stepped through the door, "and I come from Hambolshire." She let him take her wet cloak and hat and hang them by the fire.

After a pause, he replied, with some surprise, "Hambol is a long way from here, small one. You've travelled quite far." He paused. "Forgive my manners, I am Padraig, and my mother was buried today. It's why the lodging options are so bleak out there." His face twisted into a masque of disgust.

"No one paid her any mind until she was dead," he snarled, "All of Cambry mourns for a woman they never took the time to know -- except the girls, i suppose. They're not mourning at all. They came to--" and here, he sneered, "--to comfort me. They all thought I'd need them when she died; that I'd pick a wife from among them, right there at the graveside! One of them even asked who would darn my socks for me now! Like I can't do for myself..."

He slumped in a kitchen chair. "I'm sorry, it's been a day. I don't mean to burden you."

Morrigan opened her mouth to declaim his apology, but before she could speak, he leaned back tiredly, letting his hat fall to the floor. She noticed that he had two small horns jutting from his forehead -- looked rather good on him, in her inexpert opinion. "Oh," she said, "I had wondered...About the hat, I mean..."

Padraig sat bolt upright as the implications came to him, and a horrified look crept across his face. She'd seen his horns! Surely she would...would...well, something bad, no doubt. In his suddenly muddled state, he could no longer coherently imagine the consequences. He froze.

"What?" Morrigan asked innocently, "I rather like them. They add a certain charm."

"You know I've had roosters with a lighter load," he smirked, resignedly, "but thanks for the sentiment."

"Your shite rooster and I maintain no semblance," she replied, with a droll look and a dry smile gracing her face, "as I am not full of shite. I really think they're an appealing addition to your countenance."

He shook his head.

"Forgive me if it's none of mine, but I gather from your reaction that your neighbours don't know about those?" She gestured at his stubby horns. "I'd also suppose that you think they'd not approve."

He smirked at her. "Is it that obvious?"

She grinned.

"But that's chant enough about me," he said with a weary smile, "What brings you out so far from home?"

Morrigan blinked, and debated whether or not to tell her tale to the odd fiendling across the table. After all, she was in the lands of men, now, and one could never be certain about their kind; on the other hand, Padraig was obviously an outcast, and if he sold her for supper, she could return the favour.
Much better! I'll add you to the entry list.
Hope this fits the criteria.

That image is still burned onto the templates of my mind, that woman, the scream...it was mine, I was dying...again. I remember that night as perfectly as if it were happening now, I can hardly bare the memory without bursting into violent tremors.

"Ley, why have you returned here? Do you not know that this place shall be your demise if you stay?"

"Yes, I know. But I also know that I've never been one to back down or take kindly to threats." I must admit, I feared for my life, but I fought like crazy to never reveal it. She's an animal at heart, she can sense it.

"Oh, but my dear...this is a promise!"

My body shakes, I can feel the blood coursing through my veins, searching endlessly for an opening until somehow or another it reaches the wound. My wound reopens upon every instance of the memory. I'd swear it were all a hallucination, swear I was crazy if not for the physical scars it left behind with every passing blow.

"I could watch you drown in your own commodities, hear your cries for mercy when I rip you from your pedestal, feel your heart in my hands Ley and then it'd be too late for apologies."

"Is that so? And just HOW would you do THAT? I don't think you have enough power to bring down the Berlin Wall let alone an Army like myself Aniasis."

"Like this!"

She rushed me so fast, like a shadow of a lion, her hand encircling my throat. I could feel my body being raised from the ground, my airway closing, the blood coursing through my body, my lungs begging for air. I kept fighting, I never gave up, I couldn't, it wasn't the type of person I was back then. I've changed now.

"So Ley, what was it you were saying?"


I don't remember how I got here, back home, sprawled out on this floor before my bed. I reached for my neck and pushed my chest to catch my breath. Maybe she wanted to save me after all, I can never know, but I know I'll be back. Trying to stand might result in busting my butt because my legs feel like jelly. Ah, my head is pounding, but I need to move. Somehow I manage to get to my feet and the diziness subsides after a moment of trembles. I stare at my hand, at that blazing star she’d left imprinted upon my hand, watched the blood piercing through my skin and trickling down my to my fingertips. Drips of blood at my feet, a trail left behind as I retreat to my corner of my room.

Every time I peer into the mirror, I see the woman's face staring back at me. That long dark hair, those piercing black eyes that burn me to my core. Her pale skin like powder condensing before me, she is like an undead form of Alexandra Cabot, I’d swear but no one knows of whom I speak. But she is not supposed to exist any longer, not in my world, not in hers, she belongs nowhere now but gone, hidden from the boys who are out to get her. Witness protection my butt, they just wanted to take her from me, just like they took everything else, just like they took…my soul. My lover is now my hatred, my fear, my aggression. I need desperately to be relinquished. The faces transform back and forth from her face to mine, quickening with every exchange, every other glance my own. I watch my face morphing, mutating, watch as I die, trapped inside the glass. I know I’m not physically dying, but watching the evil magic that mirror bestows forces me to release all hope of a future. I am gone, I am no longer Leyanna. I am no one; no one but a slave to my own reflection. If looks could kill I'd be in the seventh ring of hell by now.

Every time I look into that glass it’s a different scenario: gunned down in the line of duty; held up against a sweating perp who’s knife is slowly ripping the flesh from my neck; running to get to my mother who is quickly dying in front of me, only to see her lifeless figure sprawled out upon the pavement; all I can do is watch. I feel helpless, I can’t do anything to save her, to save myself. Finally I decide that I get to choose my own fate.

I sit here alone in the confinements of my room, waiting to play the game of my demise. Moving to my comfortless bed I search throughout the darkness with grogginess heavy on my mind; the only light daring to invade this gruesome fog, cascading through my window in an endless beam of moonlight. The air is still, the night itself is without charm...this would be a good night to expire. Consciousness sets in, the weight of the icy cold steel forcing my weak hands to cling tighter. Finally strength, and with it comes doubt. I must do this now or I might lose my nerve. I raise the revolver slowly, inching towards the ceiling. The shadow flickers on the wall as the moonlight filters through my window. I slide the steel across my cheek, flinching at its touch and slightly pulling it away. So cold, chills tingling down my spine in an effort to keep my resolve.

So many nights I have lied awake wondering why I've bothered to stay, why my mother let me live instead of casting me aside. Why did she keep this constant reminder of her doom? Now she is gone and it is my destiny to follow suit. Never a drunk was I, but always a fool nonetheless...how could I be such a fool?

"Now or Never" I whisper to myself, knowing I have only one chance. If I die I die, if I live I walk away and never speak of this. Who would miss me anyway? Spinning the barrel, it flies around again and again, I can feel the sweat creeping down my forehead, images flashing through my pulsating brain. My mother deep beneath the ground I so often bled on, my father squeezing the breath out of my mother and forcing himself on her, and my one true source of light in this dark, cruel life...Alex, my lover with those crystal blue eyes that take my breath away and her beautiful smile now lost upon me...kissing my best friend, my partner. That woman, that mysterious figure invading my night terrors only to make them a reality.

How could this happen to me? The only family I had left in this world and now they were my betrayal. I finally find peace, then with a single piece of glass I find destruction. How could something so fragile be so evil? I cringe at the thoughts as they flash faster and faster in my mind, teasing and taunting me...PULL!!!

My finger commands the trigger to obey its request, the click echoes through the night...



I open my eyes and sigh at the atrocious object lingering near my temple and drop it to my side opposite the mirror. I see my hand, it still drips with blood and I circle the glass with a "O" then dotting the mirror at its core.


c**k. Aim. Fire. Bam! And that's all she wrote, but not for this mirror, this glass, this heathen was impervious to my attempts at justice. I wondered hopelessly if I'd ever escape these horrors, I must be a fool, still a slave to my reflection. I walk in silence to my drawer and return my stalkers back into hiding. Tonight I live, tomorrow...
may I PM it to you, because I don't really fancy posting it up here...
if not, I will, but I'd really rather not.
Amber knocked sternly on Brian's door, she wasn't in the mood for any of his chit-chat. The door opened slowly to reveal a very shabby and tired looking Brian. He was in his pajamas and was holding a cup of what seemed to be coffee.
"What is it, Amber?" He groaned.
"I- er... I..." She wasn't prepared to see Brian looking so depressed. Her previous anger had just flown out of her. "It doesn't matter. What's wrong with you?"
"Did you not hear?" His mouth dropped.
Amber gave him a puzzled look "No..."
"Come in..." Brian turned around leading Amber into his flat.

Amber walked into Brian's messy living room. Brian placed his cup on the table and sat on a couch. He indicated for Amber to take a seat then placed his head in his hands.
"B-Brian?" Amber stumbled. She had always thought of Brian as a very strong stable person but seeing his like this... She couldn't think of what could be wrong.

Brian lifted his head, his eyes red and watery.
"Gabrielle died last night..." He sniffed as he finished the sentance.
Amber froze. She didn't dare to utter a word. She knew Gabrielle had had cancer but she always looked so strong.
"I'm sorry..." Brian said. He stood up and walked over to sit down next to Amber.
"Me too." Amber whispered as her best friend placed his arm around her.
"I... Uh-... When?" Amber couldn't put a sentance together properly so she just said one simple word.
"Last night, she collapsed and was rushed to hospital" Brian looked to his feet as if they could help him find words. "It was too late."
Amber turned to Brian with tears flowing from her eyes. Brian hugged her tightly.

No words in the world could describe how they felt at that moment. They were alone...
I'd like to join.
I'll PM you mine. =)
Thanks to everyone who has entered so far. I'll go and update the entrants list and have a read through.

If anyone PMs me with entries, I will then simply post them.
I do not take PM'd entries, nor enter PM'd competitions, because it is unfair on other writers to not see the other entries.

Instead of PMing, if there is graphic content, put warnings.
I trust that's the only resonable reason one could of have of PMing.

Quick Reply

Manage Your Items
Other Stuff
Get GCash
Get Items
More Items
Where Everyone Hangs Out
Other Community Areas
Virtual Spaces
Fun Stuff
Gaia's Games