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Gazma's Tidbits (Updated 12/27/11) Goto Page: 1 2 [>] [»|]

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Gazma

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PostPosted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 12:14 am
Every now and then, I get the inspiration to start writing something. It doesn't necessarily have a beginning and it most likely will never have an end. I simply write something until I either run out of time or interest in the piece. Whether it turns into an RP/short story idea/etc. is completely left to random chance. So here's the deal: I'm going to start posting these tidbits of mine here in this thread in an attempt to inspire you all to write some truly great role plays. Deal? smilies/icon_ninja.gif Here's your first piece or two:



Scarecrows

In a field forgotten by man and god alike, several scarecrows were planted as guardians to the field. They were promised that once their time of service was through that they would be given redemption for spending their lives in the golden field. They would be blessed with new bodies and even abilities to make their new lives all the more enjoyable. With this promise in mind, the guardians of the field waited eagerly for the end of their service.

As time went on, some of the scarecrows lost their patience. "We are done waiting for your empty promises!" they cried at their creator, "we will have our new bodies now-even if we have to take them by force!" And that's exactly what they did. The scarecrows stretched out and absorbed the essence of nearby birds and animals of prey. Upon achieving their new forms, their bodies were immediately distorted and twisted. They became ugly and hated the Loyal guardians. The Rebellious scarecrows saw their brethren who had remained loyal to the Creator with their normal bodies and envied them for their beauty.

In their anger and hatred the Rebel scarecrows began ruthlessly destroying the beautiful field and its remaining guardians. With great sadness, the Creator watched them destroy his precious field and his dearest scarecrows. Finally, as a last resort, the Creator put the rebels into a deep sleep and imprisoned them deep beneath the field. He did not have the heart to destroy his creations despite their evil intentions, so He gave the remaining Loyal guardians an order: "For now, your brethren sleep beneath the field, but this will not last forever. Your service to the field will be completed when they reawaken. I will endow you with new bodies, so that you may confront and defeat the rebellious guardians. From then on, you will be free to live your lives as you wish." With the order given, all that was left for the Loyal guardians was to wait for their service to reach its end.

Now that time has finally come. With the Rebel Guardians about to wake from their slumber, will the remaining Loyals be able to defeat them with their new forms and abilities?


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Jester's Court

"What's a king without his power?" remarked the jester as he began walking slowly towards the throne whilst flipping his dagger, which had narrowly missed many a man's head in his acts. "What's a jester without his hat?"

All was quiet as the jester stood at the food of the short stairs which lead to the king's throne. "Perhaps the most important question of all is...what is a jester that sits on the king's throne?"

From the balcony in the back a single arrow shot towards the heretic but to no avail. A cloud of smoke billowed around the jester as the arrow zipped through, piercing nothing but air. Then a voice called out from the back, "My king, a jester in your throne would be nothing short of the king himself!" Without hesitation, the jester slit the throat of the archer and cast him to the floor below, after which the jester jumped to the throne room floor.

"Why aren't you laughing?!" roared the jester, stamping his foot. "It's all for the sake of fun, isn't it?"

"You're mad, jester!" cried the king.

The jester's eyes locked onto the king as he spoke. The room was silent again as the jester took in the king's words. "Can I tell you a story, sire?" said the jester, while performing a mock bow. "It's the story of a young boy who grew up in the mud and dirt of this kingdom. Every day that boy's mother told him that he could be anything he wanted to be...as long as he wanted it bad enough. 'I'll be the king, then.' said the boy. 'I'll grow up big and strong and become the king, so I can take you from this place, mother.' The mother smiled and said, 'Hold onto that dream, boy. Don't let anyone take it away from you.'
So time went on and that boy grew into a fine young man, an honorable man. He was respected by the headmasters of all the finest schools around. When they asked him what he wanted to be, 'The king.' he would answer them. What do you suppose they did, sire? You know what they did? They laughed! They all laughed at that boy who aspired to be the king. What do you think the boy did then, sire? He learned something valuable about people: they all love to laugh. So the boy said to himself, 'I'll make people laugh and get close to the king. I'll make the king laugh and maybe he will make me king one day.' And that's exactly what the boy did. He worked hard on his skills. He looked everywhere and talked to many different people to find out what they thought was funny. 'Jesters!' they all told him. So the boy became a jester, and you know what? He was good at it. His tricks and feats of daring would put every crowd on the edge of their seats one minute and have them dying of laughter the next. Finally, the boy was invited to perform for his majesty, the king. Oh, the boy was so excited, your majesty! You should've seen his face as he returned home that day to tell his mother the good news.
But, you see, sire, the boy's mother had grown old and feeble in the time he'd been away honing his skills as a jester. Recently, she had fallen ill and lay on her deathbed. And when the boy had told her that the king himself had invited the boy to the palace to perform for him, you know what that mother did? She cursed that boy!
'You foolish brat! Why weren't you here taking care of your mother?' said she. 'While you were playing jester in the streets, I was busy taking care of the house and all of our affairs! Now I lay here dying and all you bring me are your empty dreams? Curse you, damned boy!' Those were her final words to me, sire. My mother's dying words were a curse on her own boy!
I didn't falter, though, sire. Oh, no, I didn't falter from her words. That curse gave me inspiration to seek a new path along side my career as a jester. I sought the guidance of a sorcerer, your majesty. I had him teach me everything he knew about the dark arts. You know what I did after that? I killed him! And all the while, I performed for you all here in this very hall! How I fooled you all! Every last soul here truly believed me to be nothing more than a lowly jester that made people laugh with my antics! No one knew that I was simply waiting for my moment to come.
And now, this very night, that exact moment has arrived, sire. I swear to you in this moment, your majesty...you will die tonight. I will be the new king of this land, so I might spit on the grave of my worthless mother.
 
PostPosted: Fri Feb 11, 2011 11:29 am
Really interesting and aspiring bits Gaz, i am compelled to write buh i do have a question. Using the story line do i still get the names?  

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PostPosted: Fri Feb 11, 2011 6:35 pm
I really want both of these to become Roleplays. Please Gazma! Those would be some truely enjoyable roleplays!
 
PostPosted: Fri Feb 11, 2011 9:31 pm
@Hadeson: I'm not sure if I used very specific names in either piece. I guess that if you put the effort into turning them into RPs, you can use whatever you want.

@LittleMissNonaFaye: It's not up to me now. I've passed the baton on to you, the members of the guild. The only idea I might be tempted to turn into an RP is the Scarecrow piece. That idea was more complete than Jester's Court. At this point, I'll give people a chance to do something with them.
 

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PostPosted: Sun Feb 13, 2011 8:38 pm
0.o not sure how those shall become rps...but that has to be Joker's ancestor D:>
Ps: you said FOOD 0.o that made me hungry  
PostPosted: Tue Feb 15, 2011 2:17 pm
Only lazy people (or those that are simply uninterested in the topics) wouldn't see how my tidbits could become role plays. smilies/icon_neutral.gif Maybe the ideas themselves couldn't be turned into role plays, but they might inspire the reader to create one of their own. That is my desire by posting my thoughts here. smilies/icon_3nodding.gif  

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PostPosted: Thu Feb 17, 2011 3:24 am
I badly wnt to turn them into roleplays>.< I actually just might. I really wanna do the jester oneee.  
PostPosted: Thu Feb 17, 2011 10:49 pm
I encourage you to do so. smilies/icon_3nodding.gif I'd prefer any resulting RPs be posted in the guild, by the way, but, obviously, the writer will place their RP where they see fit. I might be writing another tidbit soon. It has to do with kitchen utensils...smilies/icon_sweatdrop.gif This could be interesting.  

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PostPosted: Fri Feb 18, 2011 12:14 am
"Giant spoons?! Are you serious?!!" cried the thug, as he backed away slightly.

"Yes, spoons. Got a problem with it?" she said as she assumed her fighting stance. "Trust me. As long as I have these, you won't touch me."

The bandit hesitated a moment longer before easing up and laughing, a deep laugh rumbling from his gut.

"You've got spunk, kid. Alright, men. Get her!"

Thus the insanity ensued.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


(Elsewhere)

An audible thunk could be heard as the cutlery knife sank into the door frame of the restaurant's entrance.

"I really wish you'd return that vial, mister." said the boy behind the counter. "I'd hate to dirty a knife on the likes of you..."

The man grabbed the knife, moving it back and forth to loosen it from the wood.

"You really think that I'd take this without taking precautions?" said he as he tossed the knife so that it twirled through the air and landed point down into the counter in front of the boy.

The boy began to reach for it, but the knife began to change. Veins of fluorescent reds, yellows, and oranges appeared all over the knife. The boy's eyes widened as he ducked into the back room, the knife exploding moments later. The boy quickly came back to what was left of the counter, coughing all the while, to find the man gone.

"Damn it!" he cried as he ran to get his blades and pursue the thief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Get back here, fiend!" a man cried as he brought his grate mace down on yet another empty patch of dirt.

The chase had been going on for a while now. The thief had been leading him around the city ever since he got the restaurant's vial.

Presently, they were passing another restaurant as a loud cry rang out and two grown men crashed through the front window.

Looks like she's doing well today. thought the man as he brought his focus back to his own thief.
 
PostPosted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 4:11 am
Gazma Wrote:
I encourage you to do so. smilies/icon_3nodding.gif I'd prefer any resulting RPs be posted in the guild, by the way, but, obviously, the writer will place their RP where they see fit. I might be writing another tidbit soon. It has to do with kitchen utensils...smilies/icon_sweatdrop.gif This could be interesting.


I wouldn't make it and not put it here. Lol. I got the ideas from your writing so out of respect I'd put it in your guild. I however might put it both in barton and in the guild. Or maybe one here and one in barton. Still decideing:]  

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Gazma

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PostPosted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 2:23 pm
Looks like you said the same thing twice there...o_o' But, yeah, free-for-all, fight to death. HOWEVER you want to decide who gets what is up to you all. smilies/icon_3nodding.gif I'm just writing for my own benefit. Who knows? Even after you all make your stories, I might be able to put an even different spin on the thoughts and make my own RP if I choose to do so. We'll just see what happens for now.

Oh, by the way, once your finished, let me see your RPs. I just might join one or two if they're good enough. smilies/icon_mrgreen.gif
 
PostPosted: Thu Feb 24, 2011 11:35 pm
"Welcome, traveller." the whisper of a voice said as the man stepped through the door.

There was no one to be seen inside the vast cathedral. The voice had no apparent physical form.

"Welcome." it spoke again. "I've been waiting for someone to join me. Are you the one?"

The voice sounded as though it belonged to a little girl. There was an apparent joy, almost excitement, in the tone of the voice as every sentence ended with a small giggle. Yet there was the whisper in it, as though it were nothing but the breeze blowing outside, which added to its mystery.

The man took all this in before he was suddenly struck with the fatigue his great journey had caused. He fell shakily to his hands and knees, barely keeping himself up off the ground even then. The man was fighting to maintain consciousness as the sound of wind danced around him. This was followed by the sensation as though there were two hands resting on his back.

"It's ok, traveller. Now is your time to rest." said the voice as a warm wind blew over him, seemingly taking all his thoughts with it. "There will be much work to be done when you awaken."

The man shook, still fighting to remain awake, but he soon succumbed. His body gently laid onto the dusty stone floor.

How ironic...My final resting place is to be a church, then... the last fading thought as sleep overtook him.

~;~


(think I'll come back to this one.)  

Gazma

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PostPosted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 10:29 pm
Bethesda. That's what they called that witch once upon a time...

She was responsible for the slaughter of an entire village. The dying words of many spoke of her flowing black hair-her trademark. It was the last sight of many a poor soul even after the village incident.

Her killing spree lasted for several months after the fall of that village. Travellers weren't safe on the roads. You couldn't take two steps without being swallowed up by her pitch-black hair.

This was especially true since she didn't use a typical weapon such as a sword. Her specialty was the dark arts. Magics of the foulest nature were her friend. It seemed as though she didn't even need to attack you-that you would simply be swallowed up by the same darkness that had consumed her.

One thing about her that most never forget was her screaming. As she went, she was constantly shrieking at the top of her lungs as though in severe agony. Often times at the sound of her screams, travellers would rush to her aid only to be found dead in the following days.

Few ever knew it, but she really was in pain. The darkness in her heart was constricting it. She was driven to kill all those people. Ending their lives offered her a moment of reprieve from her pain. For a moment, her soul was free. Many heard her laugh during this time and would mistake it as the maniacal laughter of a killer. Perhaps they were right to some degree, but she was laughing out of joy to be finally rid of her pain again.

There truly was never a more misunderstood soul as she...
 
PostPosted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 3:37 pm
Wow...the kitchen utensils one...smilies/icon_3nodding.gif It seems like if it had a good story, it would be amazing. Who wouldn't want to fight with spoons?! It also seems like the vial holds an important part. I like it. The Bethesda story is so...sad. I feel bad for her. smilies/icon_cry.gif Poor woman...good job Gazma.  

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Gazma

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PostPosted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 9:23 pm
I know, right?! smilies/icon_xd.gif I work at a restaurant and I was looking at our long-handled spoons one day and thought, "Hey, that would make a cool weapon." The other utensil ideas came soon after. You would indeed be right in thinking there is something to the vials...smilies/icon_ninja.gif I'll have to contemplate it some more, though, because I forgot what I had intended for them...smilies/icon_sweatdrop.gif I think the idea was still incomplete even when it was fresh in my mind. We'll see if anyone does anything with it.

Yeah, I got the idea for Bethesda while listening to 115 by Elena Siegman. I got images of this figure with long, black hair screaming for 115, whatever that is. At first, I was trying to piece together something for this character. The piece turned into what it is now, though, after a few failed attempts at this approach to the character. I wanted the reader to kind of get the idea that Bethesda herself was telling the tale, but a few key components are missing to fully setup that idea. smilies/icon_wink.gif
 
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