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 Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 5:50 pm
[Zoidburg] One Art please. [/Zoidburg] Quest Thread: My quest threadCharacter References: I have another pic of me in my profile.  Up to five ideas you have: Preferably with a bird or something on his shoulder, like in the picture, though I don't want it to look like the art for Brian. That, or him with a rake in one hand and a bottle of bleach in the other. Maybe some fences or cages in the background. I read that you were going to be busy, so I was hoping to squeeze this in before you had to stop entirely. I'd like to get some art, since I don't have any yet, but I understand about being busy. If you have time, that'd be awesome, but don't try to make time if you don't have enough.
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Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2006 6:18 pm
CRITIQUE ME Name: Randy2love Character name: Heather Lin Smith Quest Thread Link: A Chinchilla Dream Any notes before I review? I did a slightly different format for my character's information. Method of delivery[:/b] Please PM it to me. :3
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Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2006 7:00 pm
CONTEST NUMBER TWO Name Randy2love Quest link http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=2479023Fairytale(This is for fun) Little Red Riding Hood Once upon a time on a distant island there lived a young cheetah girl named Colche . She was a very happy girl who was learning many new things about the world on this large and really expensive island. Since she was so entirely happy, Colche decided to bring her ‘mother’, Aubrey a basket of goodies she and her ‘brother’, Ambrose had made. “Do you have the basket, Colche?” Asked her sweet brother questioned softly. She held up the basket proudly and grinned wide, showing her newly acquired fangs. “Yup!” He nodded with pride. “Good, now be careful and avoid the big bad wolf!” The girl’s blue eyes widened in shock. A bad wolf? Ambrose was a good wolf, were there bad fuzzy people too? “What’s the big bad wolf like?” Came her child-like voice as she continued to stare at her friend. He let out a chuckle that sounded more like a growl. “Its just an old story… “ He said waving his hands as if to emphasis it. “After all, as far as I know, I’m the only wolf on the island… well Pyroth’s a coyote… but I don’t think that counts.” With that said he sent her on her way, unaware there really was a Big Bad … Something. So the girl, adorned in red, skipped on her way to the labs, the story still fresh in her mind. She was vaguely wondering what he meant by the big bad wolf. These thoughts were pushed from her mind, however, when she scented blood. The cheetah in her mind drove her to the source. There sitting on the ground with her hands over her slightly formed beak was Kaveri. ”Hi bird lady!” Chipped Colche; her eyes instinctively searching the ground for food. Nope, no food here. Kaveri quaked slightly then stared up at Colche in slight shock and horror. Oh no… a predator. How did she explain why she was just sitting there… should she tell someone about the small animal she’d just been… her face turned oddly green and she turned away from the girl. ’Okie, bye now! I gotta see mommy and give her this basket!” She held up the basket then continued on her way, leaving Kaveri to her sad state. Now she was fully into her happy mode, forgetting completely about the Big Bad Wolf and the smell of blood. With that she appeared at the labs and pressed the nice button. ”Who is it?” An official sounding voice asked. “My name’s Colche! I’m here to see mommy!” Came the all to cheerful reply. ”Uh…” The voice buzzed out, obviously conversating with someone. “Fine, you can come in.” It muttered before the gates swung open. Once again she was on her way to see her mother. For some reason or another or for the sake of this story, Colche knew exactly where to go and it was there she went. She knocked on Aubrey’s bedroom door . ”Who is it?” ”Hi mommy! I brought you something!” Colche purred at the closed door. ”Come in, dear.” Permission granted Colche opened the door and stepped inside. She was proud of how well she followed the ‘knock first’ manners. She blinked and tilted her head to the side when she saw Aubrey all covered up to her chin and a white cap on her head. Something was off… Really really off… For one thing, Aubrey had a large muzzle and fur… She was a fuzzy person! “Mommy! What big eyes you have!” She commented excitedly. ”All the better to see you with.” The woman on the bed answered. “And what big ears you have!” The woman lifted one of her rounded dog-ears. “Why yes… the better to hear you with!” She smiled at the young girl. ”And what big teeth you have!” The cheetah said pointing dramatically at the bared fangs. ”Yes…” She sat up with a small growl. “All the better to eat you with!” She lifted up her new-clawed fingers menacingly. Colche turned her huge, wide eyes to Julian and stared at him as he read. “Then what happened?” Julian glanced down at the pages of his work then too the innocent girl beside him. “Uh… then… Ambrose came and saved her… and… uh Aubrey went back to normal and they ate the food in the basket…” He said quickly with a nervous smile on his lips. ”… I like that story!” The girl grinned up at him then jumped off the bed. Julian sighed in relief. The ending he wrote was less… appropriate for such a young mind. “Have a good day Colche!” He called as she suddenly left to take her catnap. Yep, that had been a close one.
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Posted: Thu Jan 25, 2007 10:51 am
*jumps around thread, thinks about contest entries*
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Posted: Thu Jan 25, 2007 12:33 pm
*Hopes he'll be able to enter during the weekend* ninja
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Posted: Fri Jan 26, 2007 4:45 pm
Ooh, both contests sound fun.
Quick question: When you wrote this sentence (emphasis mine), "What do you do? Do you find some islander to explain things to you? Do you realize who you are? Or you changed or unchanged? What is going on?" Did you mean to write, "Are you changed or unchanged"?
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Posted: Sun Jan 28, 2007 10:58 am
*ponders what animal I should change Maryke into razz *
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Posted: Sun Jan 28, 2007 9:45 pm
I've got a good idea. I'm going to have to write it out though.
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Posted: Mon Jan 29, 2007 6:22 am
ah yes I meant 'are' instead of 'or'. Sorry about that slight confusion XD Hopefully I'll remember to correct that the next time I'm in the mule
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Posted: Tue Jan 30, 2007 10:21 am
MINI CONTEST NUMBER ONE Name: Nikorasu-kun Quest link: Quest ThreadPrompt Response:“Urhhhh” Another typical reaction to “waking up more tired than when you went to sleep” as far as Nicholas was concerned. “Stupid pájaros” He blinked a few times until the ceiling came into focus, he just didn’t have the energy to get up right now. Or think about anything straight, he just wanted to go back to sleep, his aching body seemed to agree with him, encouraging him to say motionless. Wait…why was it still dark outside? That little spark of fear and confusion was enough to get him to sit up. “Arrhh” Nick clutched his stomach as a sudden sharp pain shot through his torso. “What the hell…” This wasn’t his bed and it defiantly wasn’t his room. Something was defiantly wrong here, and this dull ach he was feeling all over wasn’t helping calm down. ”Calm down calm down” he mentally chanted to himself, trying to ignore the sudden pain that racked his body . He tried to remember the last thing that had happened to him…but he couldn’t. “Think…think” He kept pressing his mind to remember. But for now regaining a sensible order of memories and though was like trying to draw blood from a stone. Why can’t I remember anything!?” he rolled over into a fetal ball, wrapping himself in the sheets, hands on either side of his head. Everything seemed like such a blur, he could only remember vague bits of things. His name, his family, his old school, the room his should be sleeping in, there didn’t seem to be much else beyond that. He began sobbing quietly to himself, as he continued to struggle in vain to piece together what was going on. But it was like trying to put a jigsaw together with half the pieces missing and no clue what the final picture looked like. “Just a bad dream, it’s just a bad dream” he started shivering uncontrollably, not that he was cold, it was fear. ”Maybe...maybe I’m having one of t-those waking dreams, or s-something”Somehow in the back of his mind, he knew he was telling himself a white lie, but the lie made comforted him more than whatever the truth was. The human mind, after all, is very good at convincing itself into believing almost anything. Eventually he drifted back to sleep, but not after what seemed like eternity lining there, his mind seemingly blank, and yet full and the same time. Of fear and anguish. It couldn’t be real could it? It was just one of those nightmares you have when your half asleep. Wasn’t it? ------- Oh and by the way and you gave my mule Nicholas Heathwood 4k 3nodding
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Posted: Tue Jan 30, 2007 12:08 pm
CRITIQUE ME Name: martyk Character name: Marty Karrell Quest Thread Link: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=7520487&page=1Any notes before I review?: Not really Method of delivery[:/b] Could you post it in the thread please?
Hallo! Just a quick little critique request. I'm fairley new aroudn here and I need all the advice i can get for my quest. Thanks in copious amounts! biggrin
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Posted: Wed Jan 31, 2007 12:40 am
MINI CONTEST NUMBER ONEName: Articulate.Penguin Quest link: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=5998267Prompt Response:
Parched. Thirsty. Michel awoke to those thoughts, instinctively, he licked his dry lips. He gazed around his surroundings groggily. With a sudden jolt, he realized that he wasn’t in his apartment. What the hell?Michel slowly became aware of the fact that his sheets were soaked with sweat, his breath irregular. A dream? Had he had a dream? He wracked his brain trying to grasp what it was. He knew he had had one, but what? He felt his right arm and to his surprise, felt something that seemed to be a large welt. Michel stood up, disoriented. As he did, a sudden pain in his chest caused him to gasp. With every breath he took, his head seemed to build up more and more pressure until he felt he would surely die. Another jolt of pain stabbed his chest. His arms, his legs, his neck, they all felt like they were on fire. He was in so much pain that he forgot everything else; the room that didn’t belong to him, the mysterious welt. Moaning, he staggered to the door. How did he even know were the door was? Who the hell cares! his mind screamed. Run, run, run. Escape. Fly. Predator. Freak. Predator. Blood. Hunt. Kill. Feast. Michel shrieked in agony, grabbing his head with his hands in a feeble attempt to block out the words assaulting his brain. Senseless words, they didn’t make sense. Unlogical, without reason. They weren’t in order, didn’t have a reason to be in there. “Shut up! Shut up!” He didn’t make it to the door. Grabbing the object closest to him, he flung it. Michel seemed to hear the sound of glass smashing wood a million miles away. His body burned, every inch of him was being eating by insects. Little beetles to size of half dollars; clawing and pinching, eating his flesh. They were crawling everywhere; in his nose, his mouth, his eyes. Crying in fear, he sank to the floor, desperately brushing off bugs that simply didn’t exist. More and more words came at him, slowly forming into images; whole scenes in his mind. A boy and a girl walking together in the rain. They hold hands and gaze into each other’s eyes, emotions too deep for words going back and forth. They kiss, perfectly. They are one person, together, forever. There love is the deepest kind there is.
A bright light, screams fill the air. The squeal of tires, then a crash; pain everywhere, a man is trapped under a car door, a sharp piece of metal lodged in his thigh.
A young man bright with hope comes off a helicopter. Another man comes to greet him. They walk together to a jeep and get in. Then they drive off. Every memory seems to burn brightly in front of Michel’s eyes before they vanish like smoke. Suddenly, all pain and anger fled him and was replaced by a deep sense of loss and anguish. He could not lose those images. “No!” Michel screamed, looking up at the ceiling, imploring those images to stay were they were. “Come back! Please! Mea culpa! Mea culpa! It’s my fault! It’s my fault…” An hour seems to go by as he sits there and stares blankly at the ceiling. He still feels a dull pain in his head. He can’t remember what just happened. Why was he on the floor? Slowly, he stands up and walks to the door opening it. As soon as he sticks his head out, his head is drenched in the pouring rain. It sooths him and soon, he finds his whole body outside. He notices a puddle beneath him. Although raindrops continue to pelt it, he can see his reflection. Two eyes, a mouth, a nose. The face looks familiar, but as the man briefly tries to grasp it, but it seems to flit away. No. He decides. He has never seen that face before. The man gazes at the reflection quizzically. He kneels down on the concrete and touches his own face. The reflection does the same. Could it be his face? It must be, but he’s never seen it before, he’s sure. The man slowly feels the rain stopping and stands up again as it does. He shakes his head and water flies out of his hair, just like a dog. Something pulls at the man, telling him to walk anywhere, as long as it’s away from the room. As he walks, he hears a voice. It seems distant, but fills the air at the same time. Michel. Michel? The man ponders the name briefly. It sounds nice, like a friend he might have known a long time ago. For a small second, the man wonders what his name is and feels just a little lost. But the moment passes. The man realizes that he doesn’t care what his name is. He felt happy, and that’s all that mattered. He does know one thing though, he’s sure of it. Michel, whoever he was, was dead.
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Posted: Wed Jan 31, 2007 8:47 pm
MINI CONTEST NUMBER ONEName:Bress Baltar, Quest mule: Peter ValleckQuest link: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=5996669Prompt Response:A bird called. He awoke with a start, and instantly regretted it. No amount of hangover he’d ever experienced before compared to the red-hot pokers jabbing the inside of his skull. This definitely takes the cake, he thought, I would never have drunk that much at… Where? What was it he was going to say? He tasted the sound in his mind. Zap? Zoom? The zoo? He had a distinctive feeling it was something that started with z, but why couldn’t he just remember? And who the heck would get drunk at a zoo , of all places? This was getting him nowhere, what with his eyes shut and head stuck into a pillow. He suddenly became aware of an alarm clock screaming, and he reflexively slammed the palm of his hand down – and missed. Taking blurry eyes out of the pillow, he saw there was no alarm clock at the bedside. It’s supposed to be there, right? But wait… He rolled over to his right, and his momentary hypothesis was correct: there was the alarm clock. Deciding to gently switch it off this time, he took a moment’s respite to feel the freedom that just gave his headache. Opening his eyes, he looked around the room. Where AM I? Nothing looked familiar at all. He had a large double bed, on a small raised platform. The first thing he noticed was the woodwork. Everything was made of a deep, rich, mahogany-coloured hardwood, including his bed. To his right was a fairly bland white wall with a cascading staircase of bookshelves. In front of him was what seemed to be some primitive home-made kitchen setup, having a few counters and appliances with ebony-black pans hanging from pegs on the wall. The plateau to the left of him equally confused him – it was a beautiful homemaker lounge area – there was a small mounted black wood stove atop a red brick rise, and near it where a set of four leather armchairs, two black, two white, matching ones across from each other. They met around an oblong glass table with a blue vase, containing what appeared to be a bouquet of white angel’s trumpets. Against one wall stood a large sound system, two long, narrow speakers pointing out at an angle. And he recognized none of it. Again, he asked himself, asked his headache, maybe, Where am I? Then he noticed the nearly full-wall window to one side of the lounge area. It was fairly dark out there, looking like the grey pre-dawn, but the shapes of things could be easily made out. Palm trees? Huge ferns? Where the heck am I? Rolling out of bed and onto his feet, he found himself a little off-balance. Am I still drunk? Walking to the window, his pant-leg snagged on something on the low glass table. It was a squarish clipboard with a mostly empty form on it, filled with little check boxes and radio buttons, and one large comment area - with the only form of writing on it. In an extremely practiced cursive caligrophy read the words "Patient 85 is adapting well." Not recognizing anything else on the pad he set it down and progressed to the window. This definitely isn't... isn't... what? He was really starting to get scared, he usually had a pretty good memory. Do I? Trying to focus, he tried to remember yesterday. Nothing. The day before. Nothing. Last week. Nothing. Uh-oh. He tried to recall his name… NOTHING! Frustrated, he wouldn’t give up. “But I’m!” There was an end to that. He said it often, regularly, even. Usually shouting over a crowd. The sound came out muddled a little, as if his lips were swollen or something. He mouthed the phrase, trying to work physical memory where his brain was failing. Ar…Ar.. “What, Arnold? Archie?” Archie seemed closer, for some reason. The room wasn’t giving him anything. He went to open the door, feeling the polished hardwood cold around his hand. He opened it to a wash of humidity and warmth from outside, pretty typical for tropical. From the edge of the foliage he could just make out the edges of the sun coming up. He looked around, hearing insects and animals making a plethora of sounds all around him. Where was he? A soft thump-thump-thump announced the presence of somebody coming – a very BIG somebody. Even coming around the corner, he could tell she was double, maybe even triple his weight – and, even in this pre-dawn, grey? He squinted his eyes just to make sure, but the colour was unmistakable. And boy, did she have some messed up hands, and her feet… she looked a bit like an elephant. Something snapped in the back of his mind. Maybe it WAS ‘zoo’?Her voice was a little low, even considering her weight and having what seemed to be the beginnings of a trunk. “Hey Peter, you’re up early… here are the cables back from…” She paused, noticing his strange stare. “Is everything all right?” Peter! His name was Peter! It was like ringing a gong in Peter's head, angels singing. Peter ignored all this, though, hanging on every word she said. "What's with you? I know you are never up this early, but - " Her already large eyes went the size of small saucer plates, dropping the cords she had held in that mangled way. A stubby finger pointed towards Peter's arm. "Sc-cales! You've changed??" she rushed up and grabbed his arm, not waiting for a reply. Peter looked down, seeing the green-tinted specimens attached to his arm. "What the heck?" he muddled, moving his left arm in a primary scratch position, ready to rip them off. "What are you DOING? Those are ATTACHED, dummy! You know that!" It was obvious she was more worried than mad at him. Peter moved the hand to hold his head... the headache was still there. "I'm so confused", he garbled. After a moment he asked, "Are you with the zoo?" The elephant lady looked extremely confused. "No, sweetie. What are you talking about? I suppose you could call this freak-show a zoo, but..." her eyes had followed his hand to his head. "What's that on your skull?" Being much taller than him, she started reaching sausage-hands to get a hold on his smaller cranium. This time Peter was watching her - and screamed. The grey-woman looked down and instantly took a step back. Not a good sign. She could already see some definite patterns here... She knew what he was screaming about - his eyes - and she'd freak out, too if it were her. Still, she made soothing tones, sounding like a far-off rockfall. "It's ok, honey, calm down. shhh. Calm down." Peter was seeing double. No, not double. the images were completely different. One vision was of his arm, the other of his hairline. He tried moving them - and nearly freaked again. Now he was extremely cross-eyed, looking at the tree line a few meters off, and the path the elephant-lady took. His eyes moved independently! Trying to calm himself, Peter tried slower movements. After a few tries, he finally got his normal vision back. He was breathing hard, unusual for him. "What's... what's happening to me?? And who the heck are you?" He muffled, while is mind was still screaming. Merde! Merde!It was the elephant lady's turn to be hurt and confused. "You-you don't remem-ember me? At all? The last two months together just..." She shook her head out of the memories. She then started thinking about his newfound speech impediment. Peter instantly felt an instinctive sympathy wash over him. She isn't smiling. That's a bad thing. Another thought came to him. And why is that?The mini-elephant seemed to be getting over it quickly. "Peter, honey, I need you to open your mouth for me and stick out your tongue for me, ok?" Peter was quite confused, but she seemed to know what she was talking about. He slowly opened his mouth and slo- WHIZZAM! a pink blur ran out and came back in a nanosecond, half the length of his arm. In an insatiable fear and curiousity, he stuck his finger in his mouth and felt a small coil that his nerves told him was - his tongue?? The elephant lady shook her head, making the pseudo-limb on it swing. "It all figures now... the head, the eyes, the scales, the TONGUE... Look's like you've got stuck with a chameleon!" "Stuck? I'm going to come out right now and say it. WHAT THE HELL are you TALKING about?" Peter couldn't quite make an angry face with one eye sagging to the left. "Right, right, the memory. Long story short, since I hope you'll get over this, honey, they're all genetically modifying us. But as for memory, we'll see about that!" She took that step forward again, and gripped his shoulders. "I'm Kayla. Two months ago you came to the island, I did so three months ago. The day after you got here, I went through what you are now - but you had almost no idea what was going on. But you helped me through it all, helped me up, helped me gather up my ripped clothes, and mostly, you made me still feel human rather than the monster I looked like. You are the bravest, sweetest soul I've ever met, and I'll be damned if I'm just going to let you suffer through your first, late as it is!" Peter noticed that she was crying just a little. "Come, sweetie, I'll take you to the labs to get them to help. I'm the elephant, but it's THEM that will never forget this day!" She started moving towards the path, picking up the cables as she went. "Come on!" He hustled to catch up to her. As they walked, the sun was coming up. Leaning back a little, Kayla gave a little mirthful grin. "Cute tail, by the way." Peter didn't bother to look behind him. This was messed up enough as it was. Just then the sun crested over the mountain. With one eye on the sunrise and one eye on Kayla. Well, bravest, sweetest soul? I have a lot to live up to..: neutral FIN|::. *note: Peter worked at a Dance club called Zaphod's, and had a DJ nickname of Archangel, just for note about the info searching near the beginning.
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Posted: Thu Feb 01, 2007 5:29 pm
Quote: MINI CONTEST NUMBER ONEName: Ginchael (posting from Alan Murrow mule) Quest link: Bam!Prompt Response: Down there.
The creature opened his eyes to a strange world.
Angels…no. Some kind of bird.
The room it was in resembled some sort of bad motel, the ones that usually reside near highway exits. Plain wallpaper, generic wooden furniture, inexpensive lighting…the sort of place that tried to look much nicer than it actually is.
The creature got up from its bed and walked across the well-worn carpeting. The carpet felt strange on its feet…almost like the feet of the creature didn’t really belong in this room.
The bird continued to sing outside the door.
The creature reached the mirror, getting a good look at itself. Tall ears, a short tuft of hair that narrowly traveled down its large neck, large muzzle for a nose, most flesh covered in a grey coat of some sort, a sweat stained undershirt stretching against its belly.
What am I? the creature asked itself.
In the mirror, the creature lifted up its arm. Each was muscular, though lacking true definition, ending in a strange sort of hoof hand. There was a large welt or bite on the right one.
The birdsong stopped.
The tall ears perked up at the sudden silence. The creature turned away from the mirror to the other side of the room, where there seemed to be some sort of opening—a door, large enough for the creature to walk through.
The song…it was so beautiful. Where did it go?
Unsteadily, the creature started to walk to the door, hugging the walls and grasping onto the table, the bed, the chair, anything to get balance. The floor…it felt so strange. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t like it was supposed to be. Obviously, it didn’t belong here, in this room. This was a room for some other sort of animal, but not the creature.
It entered the sunlight and looked around. The building it had just walked out of…there had to be at least 50 more, all arranged around a vast meadow and another, larger structure in the middle. None of it looked familiar.
The meadow…this is where the creature belonged.
The creature bent down, putting its proto-hands on the ground. The position seemed natural and more importantly, right. Reaching out its long neck, the creature opened its large jaw around a blade of grass and bit.
The birdsong began again, and the creature was at peace. It all seemed right.
“Alan? Alan?”
Another sound…a strange one. Almost like another birdsong, but darker, coarser…and almost like it had a pointed, direct purpose. The creature continued to eat.
“Alan, did you…did you change? Are you all right?”
The sound was directed at the creature. The creature was Alan.
“Oh God, Alan…please answer me!”
The creature looked up from its eating. It was another creature, similar but very different. This one also had the same basic structure, walking on two legs for the most part, two arms. This one, however, had a rat-like face and had much longer hair on its stomach, and very long thin hairs on its mostly sparse back.
“Alan?” The new creature opened its mouth. The sound was definitely coming from that creature.
The creature went back to eating the grass.
“Alan, just stay right there. I’m going to call the labs.”
The rat-faced thing turned and left, heading for one of the structures. The creature that was called Alan, however, didn’t move. It was enjoying itself, grazing peacefully in motions that felt…normal, natural, the angelic birdsong caught in the oversized ears. Even as darkness suddenly overcame the creature from a chip in the back of its neck, the creature that had been once known as Alan Murrow was at peace.
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