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 Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2005 1:33 pm
I suck. I will have this contest finished and announced by January 20th.
Here, lovers, is the first writing contest in this guild. It will be completely fair, and you'll all have an opinion on the winner, as well. I've been wanting some cuddly-romanticly-sweet stuff to read lately, so this is for my happiness. whee
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Writing Type:A short story.
Length:No shorter than five paragraphs, no longer than twelve.
Subject: Romance.
Prize:Avvie art by meh! <3
Due Date:November 26, 2005. 1o surprised o P.M., GST.
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Ready. Set. Go!
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Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2005 4:03 pm
"Irish - Part II"
No immediate answer occurred to him. The rain was a rush of potential over the languorous curves of a deep navy umbrella, each droplet crashing down with unlimited wrathful outcomes that never really came up. Instead, those many drops rolled together into lengthy wires of liquid fog and spilled around the edges, rapped upon the cracked paint of each slat on the old wooden bench, dripped down onto the cement below. Speechless, he sat there and grew soggier by the moment, all his previous confidence somehow dashed by that simple question.
Her smile wavered at the edges, uncertain about this lengthy pause between the two. She belonged more than ever in this world: a backdrop of pouring rain through the broad green leaves of the park grove, her hair a mass of quashed flames as each deep red strand soaked through and stuck along her neck or brow or, just that one, trickled between her eyes and that delicate button nose to tickle her lips. Green eyes turned inward a moment, sighting the stray flame, and her perfect statuesque moment ended by a hand rising to clean that lick away over an ear. He didn't even think to offer her shelter under his shade.
Absurdity set in. She laughed that touchable ribbon's laugh, wrapped it around his fingers, pulled him to his feet by a small gasp of surprise, and then they stood together by inches. A chill along her spine from the abrupt absence of numbing rain took her arms around her arms, her chin to her chest, feet that much closer to one another.
Almost silent, she reiterated the question, given only a slight variation in the way of a nervous schoolgirl courting a subject she had not thought so controversial at the start. A twitch at his lips replied, a glance at his shoes, the constellations drawn thereon by chaos and weather found deeply enthralling in ways they had not been before. She, sensing his anxiety, only laughed again more quietly as the contagion reached her, blossoming as a flush in her cheeks as much as the pale roses in her blouse grew broad and dark under the influence of such precipitation.
His answer, when at last it came, startled her from that internal reverie, but did not satisfy - too vague, by far, and obviously covered for the truth. A deeper wilt entered into her optimistic smile. The pause stretched painfully long without so much as a fidget from either side.
That must be it, then, she thought. It will not be today. As a friend to a friend she nodded and turned, a hand already raised to adjust her soaked collar for renewed entrance into the weather's weight. Yet something gave her a last pause, a last thin string tugging at her heel, willing her to take that much longer with the parting steps.
As she should have left the ring of his presence, a hand not hers discovered the bare length of her arm - gentle, but honest this time, and honesty she did not expect from this. No expectations of it, but wishes, yes, in bulk. She allowed the small turn, enough to see him across her shoulder; a coy curl of her lip was almost too much to manage. "...of course you," he answered at last, his own face too red for human. "Of what else could I?"
Smile renewed on its own and strength returned to her toes, she stepped forward freely to return that unfamiliar touch, finding his coat less palatable than she hoped but well within reason for such an occasion. The hug, though brief, was more than enough for both. She stepped free only breaths later, a brighter light in her eyes, and back out into the drowning air away from his protection. "Tomorrow, then," she answered, "I hope to find you in better company."
He took his turn to laugh, followed slow in her footsteps while she danced ahead, celebrated the cold and the wet and the dark skies in that beautiful form. She kept him ever enraptured by her simple being - one step at a time, however, would work for this.
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Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2005 11:07 pm
"Major Randomness Romancey Thingy-Part 4825784275"
The breeze caught her skirt and played with it, dashing it up and to the side, being coy and flirty as possible. She placed her less-occupied hand down on the middle of the ruffled skirt to keep it from going Marilyn Monroe-ish. The only problem was that her less-occupied hand was still quite full and several folders were beginning to slip down, inching closer and closer to the ground. Blue, thunk, green, thunk, yellow, held by her pinky-no, thunk-, and only the tan folder remained clasped in her hand. Papers were now trying to break free of their thick paper prisons, and the breeze was an accomplace to their mission.
Sighing grandly, she knelt down to pick up the folders, to knock the papers back into the folders. However, the accomplace did not like her today and swept up her skirt in the back, allowing the passers-by to see her dotted underwear. Embarrassed, and not really thinking all too well, she sank to the concrete sidewalk and looked at her folders. The heavy brown bags in the crook of her arm were wanting to escape, so she set them down next to her folders. Collecting the folders again, and the bags, she attempted to stand up and walk carefully, only to have her folders, including the ones that had already fallen, fall to the ground. She cursed madly and sank to the concrete once more.
As she was trying to think of a logical way to place every tiny thing in just the right place so as not to fall, she heard a voice just above her. "Unless you have another pair of arms, I don't think those papers are going to stay captive for very long." When she looked up she saw a handsome face, with warm caramel eyes and auburn -yes, auburn- hair. The man seemed somewhat older than she, with a charismatic smile and the cliche twinkle in his eyes. Of course, since he was so handsome, and probably staring right down her blouse to her scantily clad breasts (she needed a better bra), she blushed and fumbled with her words.
"Oh, um, yes, that would present a problem, now wouldn't it?" She stared at his eyes, sort of hypnotized, and then realized the meaning of his statement. "OH! You are offering to hlep me, are you?" The man nodded. "How kind of you," she said in a defensive tone. "...For helping me, I will give you a cold beer, no kiss, and no sex? Understood?" He laughed and nodded again. She gave him a sideways look. "...Good. You can help me by carrying those bags. And, please do not drop them. I do not get paid enough to go out and buy groceries every other day."
She checked after she started walking to see if he was following her, and he was, and she led him to her apartment building. "I'm on the first floor, thank god." Able to pull out her keys with less in her arms now, she opened the door that led into a short hallway ending in stairs. "This way." For some odd reason, he had not talked to her the whole way over here. However, he did follow her, carry her groceries carefully, so she was not worried.
Upon reaching her apartment door, she opened it. "Come on in. Set the groceries on the counter, will you?" Her apartment was somewhat unkempt, but well enough for her time contraints. The man set the bags on her counter and looked at her as she set her folders down on the coffee table in front of a puffy bean bag. After, she went to her refridgerator and pulled out a bottle of beer, handing it to the man. "Here you go." He took and the beer, but did not open it. "It's fine, I swear." He set the bottle down on the counter, sighing. He spoke.
"Alright already! Come on, I've been doing this for five months already. You go get groceries every week when you have tons of folders with you. I come along, 'magically', and help you out. Can I at least get a damned kiss? Not only do I happen to take the same classes you do, but I follow your schedule. What do you want from me?" He seemed rather annoyed, though not angry or dangerous. She smiled at him.
"Every week you do the same thing for me, and I offer you the same thing. But you know why I never go farther with you?" He gave her a stern look, and she laughed. "I give you beer every week...And you never drink it." At this, without letting her finish her explanation, he opened the beer and chugged it all down. "Oookay, that's not what you needed to do, but anyway...You have to be the genius to figure me out." With that, she went into her bedroom to change out of her school clothes. He had been her buddy for quite awhile, but he was dumb as a post when it came to women.
After sitting in her room, naked, for ten minutes, without so much as a sound from him, she sighed and got dressed again. The damn guy was a eunic, or something. When she came out of her room, he seemed to have gone through her fridge for...clues? "You are an idiot. What the hell am I gonna have in my fridge to give you clue?" And when he held up the frosted magazines, she had a frightened look on her face. "Oh, s**t." This was a happy moment for her.
With that, well, the imagination can do the work, but here are the basic clues:The magazines...well, think of them as clothing-challenged. And, her friend.....not looking so flat in the lower regions when she came out of her room. The final clue...The groceries never got put away.
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Posted: Wed Nov 23, 2005 4:49 pm
Heh... This is my first romance... And really, it's not even a romance. But it could be considered as such... I think it's quite charming... A bit on the... grim... side... but still very quaint. Untitled... Laughing quietly, a woman trotted from the side door of a restaurant--a side door leading into an alley that was blocked by another building behind it. The front was open to a busy city street. The woman had blonde hair, rosy lips, and was wearing a short black dress that swayed in the slight breeze from the street. Her face was thickly coated in makeup, slightly contorting it. She slowly made her way to the mouth of the alley. The walls of the alleyway were damp from previous rain, rain from the day. The concrete floor was dry, but puddles formed near the tall, brick walls. The stars shone brightly, as did the moon, but the moonlight did not reach into the very depths of the crevice--the moon was barely hidden by the wall of the restaurant. The woman did not notice the figure that seemed black against the moon's light, a figure on top of the building, seeming to watch her. The figure was gone, without sound, without a blur of motion. Just... gone. It might as well never have been there... The woman paused in the middle of the passage, not wishing to go into the streets yet. Still giggling, obviously pleased for herself, she raised a hand that held a leather purse and rummaged through it a bit, then pulled out a small pack of cigarettes. She pulled one from the package and put it in her mouth, replacing the package, and removing a silver flip lighter. After lighting it, she thought of her previous actions. Poor fool... She thought, referring to the man that she'd just left in the restaurant. I can't believe that he thought I was interested. And what's even more pathetic... He believed me when I told him that I was going to the bathroom... Sucker. Again, she laughed to herself, the cigarette in her hand slowly burning away. "...Smoking is a bad habit... me lady." A deep, accented voice spoke up behind her. Startled, she dropped her cigarette and whirled around, her hair askew and in her face, smudging the badly applied makeup. "But... But how did you get there? I... surely I would have seen you come in--" "But you would not..." The owner of the voice chuckled, a low, frightening, almost mocking sound. The woman could not see who spoke, though the moonlight had advanced into the alley, it was not to the far corner, where the speaker doubtless stood. Her heart rate increased slightly, but she remained calm. It's just some man... Probably some drunk... Nothing to worry about. She thought, trying to convince herself. She regained her composure, letting the smirk return to her lips. That's it... She looked with confidence now at the dark spot, awaiting him to prove her right... or wrong. The man obliged and stepped away from the shadows. His appearance was startling--Wavy, raven hair that slightly brushed his shoulders, milky-white skin, deep eyes set like emeralds, handsome features... He wore a black, velvet vest over a white linen shirt, styled as though from the 1800s, along with a pair of finely fitting pants, and to top it, what looked like dress shoes. His overall appearance was that of a well-educated, mannerly man from the past. "Shh..." He whispered, the sound barely audible. "Don't be startled, me lady." He outstretched his arms, showing that he meant nothing of harm. He gestured for her to come to him. She seemed pulled to him by some force; perhaps his appearance, perhaps the way he'd come... or something else? She didn't refuse, but stepped in his direction. Everything seemed to stand still as she came so close that she could feel his cold breath upon her skin. She shivered slightly, but allowed him to embrace her as she neared him. A slight, pleased smile appeared on his face as she allowed him to hold her. Her breathing grew slower as she relaxed, her heart went back to normal... As he struck. He brushed the hair from her bared throat, tilted her head back... She didn't, nay she couldn't, resist him... He kissed the spot on her throat, just above a major artery... he felt the pulse.... And kissed the place again, this time, a deeper kiss, a biting kiss.... a killing kiss, his fangs burying themselves within the flesh. In his eagerness, he drank the blood that poured forth, loving it, loving her. As he finished, he laughed again, licking the wounds of her throat, placing her in a sitting position against the wall as though she slept. He smiled. "Adieu.... me lady."
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Posted: Fri Nov 25, 2005 12:20 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Sat Nov 26, 2005 7:09 am
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Sat Nov 26, 2005 9:54 am
This contest will be closed at 11:00 pm Eastern Time.
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Posted: Sun Nov 27, 2005 2:43 pm
Kjralon This contest will be closed at 11:00 pm Eastern Time. So, um...what happens now? sweatdrop
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Posted: Sun Nov 27, 2005 2:59 pm
ISITSTILLOPEN? I sure hope so.
Yes, this is my first romance story. Gawd, will it suck.
(Good luck, me)
The notes meant so much more to him these days. These days, they seemed to speak to him more than ink had ever done. Ink on paper was much less interesting than talking notes, right? Damn right it was. At that time, anyway. Maybe later Ink would be called a cure for cancer, but back then, it didn't do much for him. The notes now spoke to him strangely, as if somehow warning him. Was it a warning? No. It was much more than that.
It was an invitation.
She came to him in the late hours of the evening, when his pennywhistle finally lay to rest on his bedside table, next to a mess of ink on paper. To be frank, the ink did nothing for him even when she came, with all her grace and beauty. Now, they sang. They sang of his future, perhaps with her, perhaps not. For now it did not matter. They sang, that is all. That is all there will ever be.
Like two divers they entered a strange world humans were not supposed to enter. For divers it was water. For he and the woman it was love. Something both had never experienced before. Were they even humans any more? The notes told him she certainly wasn't. There was something unearthly in her tone of voice, in her poise, in her unnatural beauty. She was terribly beautiful. To him, anyway.
She wore mostly white clothing, sometimes billowing around her waist and others clinging to her petite frame. Her skin was pale as the morning hours when she usually left him. Her dark hair framed her face, speckled like cinnamon on whipped cream. She had amazing features that Apphrodite herself could not measure up to. Perhaps she was Apphrodite, he did not know. He did not care to know. He did not listen to the notes when they answered this question.
Like roots of a tree they entangled themselves in one another. Perhaps they were one, now. Perhaps they would never be able to let go. The notes told him she would certainly be ready to. He did not listen. He was far too far in to pull back now. She controlled him. She enslaved him with her terrifying beauty. He did not protest this woman of the night. He did not dare.
It could not be described as anything else than a lightning bolt out of a clear blue sky. Maybe later such a phenomenon would be considered common. For now, it did not matter. She was gone, gone with his heart. Lord knows you cannot replace a heart. The notes knew, anyway, with their sarcastic wisdom. They chided him, but chastisements fell upon deaf ears. Without her, nothing could get through. Without her, the notes did not matter. They were but ink on paper.
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2005 8:02 am
This contest is closed. Two days late, but it's closed. And Rodent, you're fine. You can stay in the contest.
As of now, I will have private critiques sent out to each entree over PM. You'll have the opportunity to edit them, and have the edited versions in by this coming Saturday (December 2nd).
I'll create the thread containing each piece on the following Sunday (December 3rd), and will have a poll on which Guild members will vote according to their favorite.
Thank you.
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2005 5:20 pm
WRAHAHAHA! ::cackles::
Exellent.
Thank you.
::bow bow::
RT
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 11:06 pm
((...so, um...it's Friday, December 2nd...is the editing deadline going to be pushed back if a writer hasn't received a PM critique yet, or...does that just mean it doesn't need any editing? *hopeful!* sweatdrop I don't mean to be annoying, just wondering.))
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Posted: Sat Dec 03, 2005 9:31 am
Shjade ((...so, um...it's Friday, December 2nd...is the editing deadline going to be pushed back if a writer hasn't received a PM critique yet, or...does that just mean it doesn't need any editing? *hopeful!* sweatdrop I don't mean to be annoying, just wondering.)) She hasn't been on much, I notice. Perhaps that's part of the problem. But don't worry, you're not alone.
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2005 12:08 am
Laverne Terres She hasn't been on much, I notice. Perhaps that's part of the problem. But don't worry, you're not alone. Ah, that's been true of me as well lately. Finals. x.x Understandable. :quietly chews on Lavi's hair in the meantime: :mnchmnch: ^.^ (Edit: Argh! Fader was kind enough to point out that my PMs somehow managed to get turned off! Oof, I wonder how much I've missed in the dead time... crying )
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Posted: Tue Dec 06, 2005 6:04 am
I'm sorry, guys. My life has been absolutely absurd lately. I'll try to have the crits done by this Saturday.
crying Don't hate me?
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