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hanafan36

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Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2011 3:45 pm

There will be no 1st, 2nd, or 3rd. Just three winners.

This is for all you scholarship-seekers out there! Don't worry, this will only be a short essay.

Rules:
1.) Pick one topic only
2.) Bumping is allowed, but keep it to a minimum.
3.) Essays can only be between 250-700 words.
4.) Post your essay here, and PM me to confirm I got it.

When you PM me:
please include:
1.) your name
2.) your category
3.) if you are questing anything

Prizes:
1.) 25k gold will be given to one winner in each category.
2.) If I can manage it, Runners up will get something too.

Category one: Creative Writing
1.) Describe a day at your school from the viewpoint of a tree/bug/building.
2.) Start a short fairy tale with "Twice below a place" instead of "once upon a time".
3.) Recreate a children's fairy tale

Category Two: Essay Writing
1.) Why do you deserve this prize?
2.) What are your goals in real life?
3.) How do you achieve things you want?

Category Three: Historical Writing
1.) Pick a point in Gaia history and write a short report on it.
2.) Pick a point in Real Life History and write a report on it.
3.) Pick a point in Bengali (bangladesh) history and write your thoughts on it.

Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2011 1:59 pm

Twice under a place named Paris, laid a hidden world. No human dared go beneath the Old Paris that had been moved because of this horror-land. It was said that beneath Old Paris, a world full of monsters, strange, beautiful, ivory beasts that would not hesitate to steal your life, thrived. There were many that scoffed at the tale.

It wasn't until the citizens of Paris began to disappear from the illegal nightclubs in Old Paris that anyone paid attention to the Coven of Lillies, a group famous for the member's seemingly divine beauty and power. Some were rumored to be able to seduce a man with a whisper, while others were said to have incredible strength and speed.

Felix Wellshire, one of the few artists that thrived in Old Paris was painting one night during the summer solstice. He hadn't heard anyone approach until they spoke in his ear.

"What are you painting?" A musical voice whispered in Felix's ear. He looked up and into the emerald eyes of a woman who's beauty captured his attention. Her dress was that of black silk and hung low across her chest and high on her thighs. Ebony hair hung in curtains around her face and accentuated feline like features. Felix blushed as he ran his eyes up her ivory legs before returning his gaze to her face.

"J-Just a flower," He said gesturing to the half finished white rose on the wall. She gasped and peered at it. "How did you find me?"

"I have been watching you for a while Felix, and finally found you alone," She said, a seductive smile planted on her face. "My name is Shashkay,"

"Shashkay," Felix's tongue wrapped around the exotic name and savored it. "Can I paint you?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Shashkay laughed and sat next to Felix, her hand leaning on his shoulder, the cold of it making him shudder. She leaned on him slightly and watched him resume painting after being told so by Shashkay.

It wasn't much later when Felix had stopped painting and Shashkay and he began to talk. She wove enticing tales of a foreign land, sounding somewhat like India, but with a mystery around it. They talked for close to an hour, when the candelabra went out. Felix gasped, but the sound was cut off by the sensation of lips on his. A murmured incantation in his ear rendered him helpless as Shashkay's eyes glowed in the night, gloating as she knew she had won.

Needless to say, it was shocking to all when they found Felix's body that next day in the caves, blood staining his white rose.

The_Scarlet_Lark

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hanafan36

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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2011 2:04 pm

Creepy. I like it. smile

ANNOUNCEMENT:

If no one else enters the other categories by April 1st, NotesOnMyPiano will get the whole 75K.

Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 3:14 pm

Every day is the same. Thousands of people pass by me, no one notices me. They just go on with their lives, never stopping to realize that I am here. They treat me like I just blend into the background. Well, I guess I am just a part of the scenery. It’s silly of me to wish to be something more than just a tree.

Today is one of the few days that I get to see her. There isn’t much that I know about her. She likes to stare out of the windows during her class, she carries her school books in her arms rather than in a bag like the other students, she notices me. I watch her through the window. Again I wonder what kind of class she is taking, what she does outside of school, and how long she’ll be coming here. I know it’ll be a really short period of time, one – maybe two – passes of winter. What little time she will be here is not enough for me.

I see her stand up slowly. Her class is over and she’ll be coming outside. I know that she will pass by me. But she always stops and sits on the stone bench across from me. She sits there for a few minutes, and then leaves. For those few minutes I know she is looking at me. For those few minutes I try to be beautiful, I try to keep her attention. But she always leaves.

Still I had hope that today would be different. Maybe today she would stay. I don’t know what would happen if she stayed longer but it was all I could desire. When she walked out of the building I saw something different. Her books were not in her hands but she still didn’t have a bag. There was something around her neck as well. When she was closer I realized it was one of those cameras that some students carried around. She stood in front of me and waited. When the crowd of walking students started to move behind her she lifted up the camera. I panicked, I knew that I had to make her picture beautiful.

I let the wind stir my branches, my leafs were dancing in the wind. The sun shinned beautifully all over me. There was a small click and she lowered the camera. I settled my branches and leafs. There was a small on her face so I knew that she got a good picture. Another student walked up to her and they spoke.

“What are you doing?” the new student asked.

“I’m taking a picture of this tree,” she replied, gesturing to her camera and then to me.

“Why? It’s just a tree,” the other student asked, looking over at me.

“I don’t know, there’s just something special about this tree,” was her answer. I couldn’t hear anymore as the two of them walked away. But I knew that if trees could blush I would have been red all over.

Sadly, as I recall that day, it was the last time I had seen her. After that day, she didn’t have that class anymore and she didn’t sit on the stone bench across from me. I suppose that she had taken that one picture so she could remember me.