City of IF

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[Smudger]

:D here goes Z.

A desolate wind sweeps over the barren landscape. What befell this land? What crushed all the precious life from this area? No grass grew, no birds sang. The land was...Dead.

As the wind howled over the grey hills, a coating of dust is revealed as it is swept away by the malevolent wind. Bones were revealed. And armour. And weapons. A battle had raged here. Obviously a harsh and bloody one.

However, as you looked further and further East, you saw something. Something...Shocking. Smaller bodies. Skeletons. Children.

This was not merely a battle. It had been an extermination. If you followed the flow of the bones, you could see the flow of the battle. It had been a fighting retreat. At the last the fleeing warriors had turned and fought. Fought bravely. But bravery did not mean victory. To the last man, woman and child the defeated were killed. Bashed in skulls lay around the valley. Tribal Banners fluttered in the distance. A legacy left. The only thing to mark this as a burial site for a lost people. Banners and Bones...

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[D-Lotus]

Nice. I will try, hopefully with more success than last time...

[Chinaren]

The bar plants hung from the brown earth, fronds waving slightly in the moisture, aniticipating their next meal.

Tiny arifish darted between the tendrils, too small to attract the attention of the giant plants, their pink skins like flashes of light in the dark brown gloom of the moon-rise.

A flight of horpy flew past, their mournful screeches echoing off the hills and bouncing around the dim sky. The swarm flapped their four wings, frantically striving to gain height and reach the cover of the ground mist before the first rays of the sun robbed them of their sight.

Overneath a herd of Cruttle watched them nervously, waiting until they had dissapeared from smell before resuming their slow mastication of the tou-shoots. The silver faces of their food writhed in agony, tiny mouths screaming as the long tongues wrapped around their necks and ripped them from their mother pods.

Above all, the ground loomed large, distant red rivers dimly visible as the giant 'roid floated serenely on.

Undisturbed and endless.

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[Kalanna Rai]

UnderDark

For a moment nothing could be seen but nothing could stop one from feeling the chill bite of an ice age wind. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the world where there had been no light for three thousand years. Pilliars of broken ruins rose out of a desolate plain of frozen soil. Lichen that needed no light, needed no warmth, covered the sheltered surfaces, the cracks in the ruins, the hollows in the earth.

The footsteps of the lone man hung in the air, the crunch of hardened ground vanishing as he moves onto the lichen covered stone. All around him the world is painted in black and grey, like a misty night-vision still, eternally changing in his mind's eye. There is no energy here, no magic, yet there was life.

A few small creatures tore at the lichen, and they in turn were eaten by larger beasts that came calling. Some were blind with milk white eyes, others had no eyes at all...only thosands of whiskers and philia. They all snuffled at the air, smelling the warm blood of the lone man.

Above there is no sky, only a dome of unyeilding blackness that covers any celestial bodies that might break the unending grip of night. Turning he paces further into the ruin...and is lost in the shadows that tast of bitter sorrow...

[Phang]

THE ROOM

Just four walls, with a floor, ceiling, and door, all the same blank grey monotone colour. It made anyone dizzy just to stay for a minute in the place, as the 3D morphed into a flat, colourless plane. A blazing lightbulb hanging shadeless banished all trace of shadow. The stains; of blood, vomit and other, far more infernal stains were freshly scrubbed and painted over. All in preparation for fresh victims...

Rumour was that the room belonged to a mental asylum. Either the rumours were true - or someone with a sick mind had once stalked the corridors beyond the door.

[D-Lotus]

Ok, here's my attempt:

The Setting

It was a dark, cloudy evening, and an ominous silence echoed throughout the entire street. The oaks and maples began swaying in tune with the wind, and the sun began to sink into the horizon like a lost battleship. Beyond the playground fence, two empty swings trembled on their chains.

There was a pervading vacuum of happiness among the houses, all joy was withdrawn from their color and shape. The street lamps began to flicker on lifelessly, one by one in an eerie and unnerving display of perfect timing. The meowing of a lonesome alley cat was quickly stifled.

Through the kitchen windows it was easy to see the house furniture in perfect order, dustless. There wasn't even the warming glow of activated television sets. The only source of habitudinal noise was the ticking of the clocks, always steady, always reminding humanity of its vanity.

The rooms were neat and orderly, the beds untouched and un-slept in. The carpets were all the same light-mud color in all houses. Dusk covered light filtered into the rooms through the white curtains.

An assortment of books rested on their immaculate shelves, unconcerned as to whether they would ever be read. A moth flittered around aimlessly inside one of the houses, its wings beating wildly, irregularly. It moved throughout the house, swiveling past the monumental doors, chairs and tables, past the portraits, decorations on the wall and the vases sitting atop the cabinets. The moth flew up the stairs until it came to stop by means of a short, quick flurry of wing beats onto an open window-ledge in the highest room.

A soundless murmur began to grow closer to the streets as the moth overlooked the moving, vibrant trees and their brothers, the silent telephone poles. The murmur grew to a roar of electric humming and soon reached a high crescendo of reverberating rumbling. A gate opened at the entrance of the street, and a congregation of cars rolled into the streets amid a commotion of shouting. Families sat behind the mechanical monsters as the rubber tires screeched down the asphalt. The houses joined in an outcry of protest, but the cars and their drivers only honked and waved. The yet unoccupied buildings wailed as their future occupants trespassed the house's defenses with keys, and gained entrance to the house's interior. Raised by men only to be disemboweled, like pigs.

[Smee]

A little random, not what I planned and only 400 words of so, but I thought I'd have a go and this is the result.

An ever changing scene.

Life begins with the stream. Gathering from new born rivulets of recent rain, it rushes headlong through childhood down a mountain motorway carved over millennia. Joining with brothers and sisters speed is gained ready for the coming-of-age waterfall just ahead. After a dramatic free-fall it settles, it slows. The urgency is past. The River is born.

Life is now leisurely; a slow saunter to the sea that will last many months. Time enough to enjoy and explore its surroundings. Find ways to take on new forms. The land is green and lush with life. Soft summer grasses bob their heads in the breeze, roots deep in the soil soaking up the essence it feels escaping through its porous banks. Playful otters find the River a welcome hunting ground, darting through its silky waters, after the silver fish that breathe the cool liquid. With a babbling giggle the River continues onward.

Tall, dark sycamores and leafy cottonwoods line the bank, basking in the warm sunlight and casting a dappled green glow over the River. Sleepily it moves on, lost in the delight of the secluded grotto. A pair of seeds twirl downwards and settle gentle on the surface. It will carry them far and then deposit them to grow on a clear part of the bank. Maybe one day a second grotto could grow.

A gentle slope gives some urgency and with the rush of part-remembered childhood the River speeds towards the farm. Golden yellow thatch nestles on a tight wooden frame almost lost from sight by the creep of ivy. Bright red poppy-heads dot the area, pinpricks of colour that catch the eye. Behind the quaint abode a giant wheel spins in synchrony with the River, scooping up great handfuls of water and taking them on a wild ride high into the air before depositing them back with little concern for tenderness. The air is filled with the gurgle of the River's excitement at the grand adventure.

At a low point in the bank a deer stops for a drink, lapping at the mountain-filtered liquid with relish. Tall ears swivel around continuously, listening for sounds of threat from the concealing forest. But if there is any danger the sound is lost over the contented whisper of the River.

The great ocean is closer now, but still there is much for the River to see, and explore. An ever-changing setting that provides a lifetime of experiences for the discerning eye. With gentle eagerness it continues onward to its next discovery.

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[D-Lotus]

Quote: The cutoff date will be Jan 1, 07.

*cough* *cough*

- And Thank you, as well. :)

[D-Lotus]

I hate to nag, but it seems a pity for all these paid entries to go to waste. :(

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[D-Lotus]

Wow, Smee, that was a large margin you had over me. ;)

[Smee]

:P Fun little comp - shame it was lost to the depths.

[D-Lotus]

33%, actually, but point taken. :oops:

[Smee]

Lol - 33% of total votes, but 100% more than your votes, 50% of my votes.

As usual stats mean nothing and can be manipulated to say what you want.

[Smudger]

Congrats Smee...No votes :(