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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2008 6:06 am Post subject: SoaP 7! It's all over!! |
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Chinaren's infamous: STORY OF A PICTURE 7 competition!
It's done! SoaP7 is now finished, and the winner is....
Smee and Smee!!!
Yes, that's right, once again Smee proves too much for the opposition, and takes not only the story, but the guess awards. Your prizes and trophies will be coming your way soon Smee.
To everyone else, better luck next time, and thank you for playing!
Stories were written by...
Entry 1 - Time is of the Essence - Smee *winner*
Entry 2 - Gearshift - Masterweaver
Entry 3 - Last Day - DeadManWalking
Entry 4 - The Call Back - Tramp in a Storm
Entry 5 - Quest for Infinite Love - D-Lotus
Entry 6 - (untitled) - Idea Master
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Very well! It is time for part two of SoaP! The Judgment!
Judgement comes in two parts:
a: The First is a simple vote. All you have to do is vote for your favorite entry below. It's free of charge and opn to all. Authors may vote for whomever they like, including their own story of course. But beware! Votes may give hints for part b:
b: Guess the author! For this section you must guess who wrote each story. Each set of guesses costs 20Fables (first entry) and 40Fables (each subsiquent entry). See below for the points allocation. Best guesses will be posted here.
Let Judgement begin!!
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It's back! After a nearly one year hiatus, SoaP returns!
Take part in the competition that's practically legendary in IF! Write! Read! Vote! Pay Chinaren money! Win! Win! Win!!!!
See rules below for how to play!
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Guesses: (For multiple guess players, only top score will be shown)
Smee - 17 Points. (6 guesses)
D-Lotus - 9 points. (6 guesses)
Xfire - 9 points
--- Entry list ---
Entry 1 - Time is of the Essence
Entry 2 - Gearshift
Entry 3 - Last Day
Entry 4 - The Call Back
Entry 5 - Quest for Infinite Love
Entry 6 - (untitled)
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Rules and all that jazz. Please read carefully:
There are several parts to this competition:
1. Look, write, submit.
Below this entry a picture will be posted.
Look at the picture and write a short story (max 1997 words) which, at some point, the picture is a part of.
For example. If the picture is of a man jumping through a window, then you can write a story where a man, at some point in the tale, jumps through a window.
In the story you must describe the picture and it must match the picture pretty much exactly.
When you have written the story DO NOT POST IT HERE!!!
PM it, or e-mail it, to me!! Do not tell anyone you have written the story!! I will donate the Fables I get for posting entrants' stories back to the author*
The story will be posted exactly as it is PMd to me, with no corrections or additions.
The entry fee is a very reasonable 101Fables per story. If you are new to the city and don't have this many Fatbacks, please PM me, and I will see what I can do.
You may enter as many times as you like!
2. Judgment.
There are two parts to 'The Judgment'.
a. Best story:
The first is a straight vote on which story you like the best.
The prize to the winning author will be at least 300Fables, a trophy in Chinaren Hall, and the opportunity to submit the picture for the next SoaP!
b. Guess who wrote them!
For this section you must guess who wrote each story. Each set of guesses costs 20Fables (first entry) and 40Fables (each subsiquent entry).
You will Score:
One point (1) for guessing an author, but not putting the right name to the right story. EG:If Crunchyfrog writes story number 10, but you guess Crunchy wrote story 5, then you get 1 point.
If someone guesses an author twice, for an author who wrote one story, only one guess will count for points. (The highest).
EG:If Lordy wrote story 3, and Smee guesses Lordy wrote story 1 and 3, Smee would get the four points for the correct guess, but none for the other Lordy guess.
4 points for guessing correctly eg: D-Lotus - number 10.
1 point for 'guessing' your own entry, as it isn't fair to give three, but it isn't fair to not reward you either.
Of course, this part requires the authors to play along here and not give away what they wrote. Any breach of this rule and the author will forfeit the prize, (should they win) and be barred from entering the next competition.
The person who guesses correctly first, or if no one guesses by the close date, the person who guesses most, wins a trophy in Chinaren Hall and a Fables prize, which will be dependant upon how many people paid to guess**.
*Minus a very small handling fee**.
**Hey, I'm not a charity you know!
-----------------------------------
The picture will be posted below, and has been chosen by Messy as winner of SoaP6.
Entrance is open until I get enough stories or until a date that I decide it is closed, depends on the response really.
Remember: If you write a story PM it to me! Don't post it here!!
Happy SoaPing!
Winners of Previous SoaPs were:
SoaP1
Shady Stoat - Best story
E_Fauna & Smee (tied) - Most correct guesses.
SoaP2 - Jan 2006
Smee - Best story
Smee - Most correct guesses.
SoaP3 - Feb 2006
Chinaren - Best story
Smee - Most correct guesses. (Again!!)
SoaP4 - Apr 2006
Key - Best story
Smee - Most correct guesses. (as usual!)
SoaP5 - Oct 2006
Rai - Best story
Smee - Most correct guesses. (Sigh)
SoaP6 - May 2007
Mesyy - Best story (ormaybe the most shocking!)
no one! - Most correct guesses. _________________ Neil Hartley Books.
My Amazon page.
Last edited by Chinaren on Wed May 28, 2008 3:06 pm; edited 20 times in total
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2008 6:08 am Post subject: |
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 2:54 am Post subject: Entry 1 - Time is of the Esssence. |
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Time is of the essence
"You there, be careful with that!"
The admonished form, covered completely in a black cloak, appeared to look up and nod in acquiescence. Without a word it trudged on toward the pool, burdened with the metallic crucible held outstretched in black-clad hands.
"All of you, faster! We are running out of time. You can't begin to comprehend the magnitude of the disaster if we are late by even one second."
The speaker looked exactly the same as the multitude of black robed figures moving through the half-light. Exactly the same, save for the large clock held out in one bare hand instead of a liquid filled crucible. Old fashioned in nature, it appeared to be an enlarged version of a classic pocket watch, the likes of which any gentleman wouldn't be seen without in the very early 20th century England. Except this model had clean, clear numbers on its face rather than the more typical roman numerals of the time.
The speaker wasn't aware of any oddity to its timepiece. Neither did he care. He had no concept of the 20th century, of any century come to that! He had never heard of England, or America or even the Earth. Such trivial things carried no impact on his work, there was no need to know.
What did matter to him, was finishing on time. With an impatient glance at the large clock the speaker sighed. It was getting too close.
"Master of Volume, how many more are required?"
The Master of Volume appeared exactly the same as the multitude of black robed figures moving through the half-light. Exactly the same, save for the large metal rod held out in one bare hand instead of a liquid filled crucible.
"Just thirty-seven more will see if filled, Speaker."
A quick scan of the area showed at least a hundred black robed figures trudging toward the great pool. The speaker looked at the watch. One minute remained.
The speaker wasn't designed for panic. But even so it definitely felt some anxiety. The last five hundred and seventy four million releases had progressively become later and later, each using up a minuscule amount of the precious spare time they'd used to have after filling the pool. Minuscule it might be, but it was cumulative. Would this be the one where they would be late! The speaker certainly hoped not.
The speaker eyed the black robed figures. Each one was designed, like him, for one task alone. Each one expertly crafted to perform that one task to a precision unparalleled. Their hands covered to protect them from the harsh edges of the crucibles. Their arms, legs and back filled with strength immeasurable to enable the crucibles' precious contents to be lifted and transported to the great pool. One second of time swirled within each crucible. The combined weight of one second across the whole universe. Every action, every reaction, every change, movement. Every alteration, and adjustment. Weight immeasurable.
The speaker admired their design, in the same way he admired his own design. Eyes that enabled him to precisely measure the time passed to minuscule fractions of seconds even on so seemingly crude a timing device as his watch. What better creatures to ensure the universe was kept supplied with time efficiently!
With an impatient glance at the large clock the speaker sighed. Eight seconds remained.
"Master of Volume, how many more are required?"
"Just four more will see if filled, Speaker."
The speaker sighed with relief. If thirty three had been emptied into the pool during fifty-two seconds then four more would be finished in just over six seconds. They still had time.
"Standby to trigger release."
The Releaser appeared exactly the same as the multitude of black robed figures moving through the half-light. Exactly the same, save for the large red button conveniently located next to one bare hand instead of a liquid filled crucible.
"Release!"
The large red button was pressed and the great pool of shimmering silver vanished in a great flash of golden light.
Another day for the universe had been delivered.
With an impatient glance at the large clock the speaker sighed.
"Master of Volume, how many more are required?"
"Just eighty-six thousand, four hundred will see if filled, Speaker."
~
"You there, be careful with that!"
...The End.
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 4:56 am Post subject: |
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Gearshift
Waiting and watching and waiving and working and waiting and...
The small man walked the streets, muttering to himself. "'s not my fault, guv'ner. Never 'as been." He nodded amicably at a passerby, his face carefully kept down. The black hair rippled like timethreads over hispale scalp. "Never done nuthin'. Just been keeping it. Longer then I should have..."
And across the world, in a place not far away but infinitely distant, the gears and gyros whilrled their deadly dance around it. It was, at the moment, a black-robed figure, listening to the clacks and the jingle as indefinite metals banged together. It cocked its head to better hear something above the ruckus. Then it took a screwdriver from a small table in front of it, one practically identical to the other screwdrivers on the table, and headed off into the reeling maze.
"'s not my fault," said the small man. "'s just I couldn't find the next one, so I figgered, why let it out? I'm looking, mind you. I'm looking."
The robed figure dodged a low-flying cog. Tracing the trajectory with its gaze, it followed to one particular spot, carful not to get caught in the jaws of the gears. It glanced at a rusted spring, satching is still vibrate in tune with the rest of the machine. It reached out with the screwdriver and started tapping the base.
The small man stopped suddenly. "No please, guv'ner! I still don't have it ready! I need to let it out!" Looking around desperatly, the small man spotted a young boy, barley in his teens. He began to sprint, reaching into his coat.
The spring was caught on something, apparently. How odd. It stopped prodding the base, and looked carfully at it. One of its sleaves got cuaght in the gears. It rapidly pulled it away, but a bit of the cloth dissappeared into the mass.
Bursting from a building, an angry wyvern screeched a hunting cry. The small man glanced up furtivly, then continued sprinting. Tears streaked down his face, if you could call it a face. "I'm soory, guv'ner! I'm sorry! I'm not ready yet!" The wyvern snorted and began to examine the surroundings.
Ah... There was the problem. No doubt this was one of the better springs, made to last. But, it reflected, everything ends. Grabing the coiled metal, it wrenched it out of the base.
The small man's heart stopped. His breath disappeared. His body went limp. In one last desperate manuver, he pulled the object out of his coat and threw it at the young boy. Then he fell, dead.
Hmm... Where was the new one? It looked around mildly. Usually, the new one turned up by itself. Tha was the capibility of this machine, it was almost self-mantaining. The robed figure waited for a moment, then shrugged and headed over to the cog that had fallen out.
The object arced through the air, glinting in the sun. The wyvern caught sight of it and bristled angrily, leaping from the buildign and flapping its massive wings. The young boy turned around, seeing the monster go after the object. Astonished, bwildered, and unprepared, he caught it.
Midway to the wayward gear, the robed figure halted. The new spring had just appeared in its hand, late but serviceable. Clearly, it was very new, still glistening from the transfer. The figure glanced at it, then shook its head and continued toward the cog.
"Give it to me, boy," the Wyvern growled, face inches away from the young human who was looking terrified at it. "That is far too dangerous for you. You don't even know how to use it. Give it to me, and I will destroy it. I'll keep you safe." It inched closer, the acidic breath melting the cobblestones.
The robed figure picked up the cog, brushed it off, and turned around. This cog, it pondered, was certainly heavy for its size. Carfully, it returned to the place of the initial disturbance and put the cog down, examining the space before it in a methodical manner.
The boy scabbled off, fear giving way to a primal fury, and aimed the strange object. The Wyvern looked at it and laughed. "You see? It doesn't work! But if it ever did, it would torture you beyond compare. End your life. Look at him," the Wyvern indacated the small man's body. "What did it do him? It ended him. I am saving you, boy. I'm keeping you alive."
The robed figure screwed in the new sping and watched it pulsate with the gears. Satisfied, it picked up the cog. With a bit of a struggle, the cog was raised and placed back onto its axle. The robed figure pulled out a nut, spun it on after the cog, and tapped it with its screwdriver.
"No!" The boy felt a new power rise up in him, and he pointed the object at the wyvern. A strange emission fired, hitting the monster head on. As the boy watched, the wyvern wriggled and melted, splashing over the dead body and taking it with it. Finally the goo seemed to evaporate. The boy looked at the object in his hand and quietly said, "Wow."
A piece of cloth shot out from the gears. The robed figure picked it up. Best not to let it get lost in the works again. It went toward the central table, gathered up the screwdrivers, and went out. The machine was small enough on the outside to pick up, which it did. Then it turned to a few of its companions, who also decided to be robed figures.
The boy wondared off.
"Sorry I'm late," it said. "Watch trouble."
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Sun Apr 27, 2008 2:03 am Post subject: Entry 3. |
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Last Day
It was the last day of Aaron Simon’s life.
He didn’t know that. Not many people get to have that privilege. For those multitudes, death arrives totally out of the blue.
It was an ordinary day. Of course, it was. It always is. Not many wake up and think, “Today I die.”
When is he going to stop making editorial comments?
Shhhhhh! Just let him tell it in his own way, kids. Grampa’s really old and his mind isn’t working the way it should.
You mean he’s crazy? Why did you make me come here to listen to a crazy old codger?
Mommy? What’s a codger?
Shhhh! He’s starting again.
He woke up at five forty-five, as he usually did, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got dressed and kissed his wife good-bye. She turned over on their little bed, but her eyes stayed closed. She was cheating on him, but he kissed her anyways.
He walked downstairs, going past Bobby’s room on the way to the stairs. The door was closed, and he didn’t enter. Downstairs, he started a pot of coffee for his wife, who would get up later.
He grabbed an apple from the refrigerator. It was red, and the light streaming through the window reflected from it, making it shine. He put it in his suitcase.
He left the house after picking up his briefcase, carefully locking the door behind him. He glanced down through the bushes to either side, checking to see if the rock hiding the spare key was undisturbed.
It was.
He would have to ask his wife where it was later. She was always forgetting hers.
He walked slowly to the bus stop, his eyes fixed on the beautiful sunrise before him. The golden light streamed through the leafy trees, silhouetted perfectly against the purple sky.
He arrived at the bus stop, and sat down on the bench, waiting for the six-fifteen bus. As he sat, he looked at the houses across the street, blocking his view. His hand traced an outline on the bench, his finger smearing the dirt into a picture. It was a sun, behind trees.
The bus came. No one got off. With a last look across the street, he stepped onto the bus.
It was almost empty. There was one other man on the bus, besides the driver. The other man wore a long black robe.
He walked along the bus, past the man in the robe, whose hooded face turned to follow. The hood obscured the man’s face.
He sat down next to a window, looking out into the vibrant street as the bus trundled slowly on to his work.
Mommy, what does vibrant mean?
Shhh!
He saw a boy, no older than Bobby had been, riding a motorcycle. It was red, the motorcycle. He looked at the boy, and for a second he saw….
He looked away.
Then the bus lurched violently and started to roll. He fell from his chair, and he felt pain as he hit his head.
The last thing he saw was a glimpse of a red motorcycle through one of the windows. It was lying on its side.
Well, that was pointlessly depressing.
Fredric Oliver Rigney! What have I told you about being rude! We’ll talk about this when we get home young man!
I’m just saying….
Mommy? Did he die?
It’s all right, Victoria. It was only a story. Your grandfather is a writer. I guess he just wanted to tell you a story before he…. Well time to go home children.
The mother leaves the room, shooing her two children through the door before her. The old man lies on the little bed, finished with his last story. He lets out his last breath. A man wearing a black robe enters. The hood is up, and his face is obscured. He carries a ticking clock in his hand. He holds it up.
JAMES OLIVER RIGNEY JR. IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO LEAVE.
I know. I have known for a long time. But before I go, may I ask a question?
ASK.
Why? If Death is always there, waiting, why are we put on this earth? It would be easier just to never have been. Instead, we are here, and Death creates sorrow and pain.
I DO NOT HAVE THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION. THAT ANSWER LIES BEYOND MY DOMAIN. I AM MERELY THE FERRYMAN.
So be it. I will come with you.
He stands leaving his body lying in that little bed. And he walks to the Ferryman, and beyond.
As he walks, the clock in Death’s hands winds down, its hands moving slower and slower. As he leaves life, it stops.
After that the room is empty.
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Sun Apr 27, 2008 3:35 pm Post subject: Entry 4 |
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The Call-Back
Beings that take on the shape of a beast or the shape of a man, the shape of an object or the shape of the winds – creatures hidden in the dark of night, deceitful beings which never show their true selves or feelings. Had these really once been people? There was no chance…surely.
The land is empty for miles. The sky hangs, motionless, never changing. If you were there, it would feel as if you’ve been closed inside a lunch box which was put in the fridge. A few hills mark the gray horizon, but that is all. No life – human, plant or animal. The place looks like a dark desert. But the air is still and chilly and has the aura of a timeless past merging with the present and future. No way of telling time. Day? Nigh? Is there a difference? Summer? Winter? Always the same, exactly the same. Could anyone come here? If so, how? And where is here, anyway? Who knows? Anybody? Somebody must know. How did they get here otherwise?
Three men surround a girl. They are dressed in black robes, as dark as darkness itself. The girl stands scared but unharmed. They approach her from three different directions. There is no threatening aura, but the girl breathes faster as they close in on her like wolves stalking their pray – her breath condensing in the cold, still air as her heart thumps rapidly against her chest.
“What do you want?” She breathes and tries to take a step away. But she can’t, she’s trapped. “Where am I? Wh-What do you want?” she asks, louder this time.
“You have been called back to Earth, my dear.” The three beings chime in unison, voices deep but clear as a crystal.
“E-Earth?” she falls to her knees. “I can’t go back there. I passed through to the other side. There’s no going back,” she looks at them, her eyes flicking from one, to the other, to the next, as they come closer and closer.
They do not reply. They just walk, slowly.
Finally, they stand at an arms length from the girl and once again they chime, “You have been called back to earth, my dear. Return.” And with that, they walk away, slowly but steadily, they walk further, and further away. They split up and walk in different directions. One stops and looks at the ground. The second walks further away and stops in the distance. Are they searching for something on the ground?
“How do I go back? Do I get to live again? Can I see my friends?” the girl shouts after them. They stop. One turns and looks at her from where he is standing.
In a blink of an eye he’s there! Right in front of her! She screams and takes a step back. She can almost make out his human-like features.
“You have until the Midnight of the Full Blue Moon to fulfil your task. If you succeed, you may stay on Earth with your friends.” He says. His voice is deep and grave and it sends shivers down the girls back.
The robed man shows her a clock. “Midnight of the Full Blue Moon.” The three chime. The girl looks at them, in turn again. Her eyes flick from the man infront of her who’s showing her the clock, to the man furthest away from her who’s looking at something invisible on the floor, to the man in between them who is slowly walking away again.
The girl takes one last look at the clock, and then she falls, falls into darkness, complete, black darkness…
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Fri May 02, 2008 10:12 pm Post subject: |
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The Quest for Infinite Love
"We are lost again, aren't we?" spoke the cloaked figure. It was an invitation to concede a point. His right hand clutched the handle of a heavy clock, which he carried aloft as if a lamp lighting his way. He paced erratically throughout a landscape of smooth black marble that extended endlessly into a dark horizon; no creature dwelled in this inhabitable place he roamed, and not a ridge, nor a bump, nor a chip in the marble could be discerned. All was flat and lifeless. Only the grey clouds disturbed the awesome stillness as they roiled threateningly above the cloaked figure.
Light, somehow finding its way into this dusky plane, filtered through the clouds and danced upon the marble, imbuing the dark limestone with the reflective qualities of water. It appeared as though the clock wielder walked upon the surface of a fathomless, opaque sea. Imagine, thus, a still basin filled nearly to its brim with water; its tranquil water-surface like the solemn black marble, and its brim like the remote, encircling hills.
"Do not lose heart, Akritos. Remember that time is on our side.” answered another male, similarly cloaked and enrobed. He too held a clock in his fist. He was taller than his companion, clean shaven and handsome; Akritos, conversely, evinced gaunt cheekbones, thick eyebrows, and a drooping mustache which flowed down into a short beard around his chin.
“Andreios is right.” declared a female third figure. Previously she was wielding a clock as the other two, though searching in a different direction, and now she turned to address them. “Also, the very nature of this environment indicates that we are closer to our goal.”
“But what great irony, Sophia, that time be our only tool in our quest for infinity.” mourned Akritos, drawing closer to her.
“The elders said that we would find infinity wherever our clocks ceased counting time. You know that.” replied Sophia. She was ruddy and raven haired, and her long eyelashes emphasized her pensive brown eyes.
“Besides,” added Andreios, resting his left hand on Akritos’ shoulder, “you volunteered for this quest.”
"Yes, but you two love each other, and every second that elapses is one of joy. But I am alone, for my wife Haima is dead, and I grow bitter the longer I search. Why should I search for infinity, if I am to be alone?" complained Akritos. Sophia merely smiled, for she knew that Akritos protested in order to be comforted.
“The elders could only offer three search clocks. Our quest is limited to this.” said Sophia. “It was inevitable that one of us should suffer, and this I needn’t remind you, for you fully accepted these terms.”
“We are thankful for your sacrifice, Akritos.” comforted Andreios.
“Yes, of course. I am sorry to have troubled you.” conceded Akritos, and he began to meander once more throughout the ink-stained limestone sea. I too, am like this cold stone, mused Akritos, for my soul is dark and profound, yet if a single ray of light shine upon it, as a clear mirror my soul will dispel its impurities and instead reflect perfect images. By this light, my doubts and disobedience make my good intentions the more transparent.
Meanwhile, Andreios and Sophia embraced, lingering in each others’ arms until they finally parted company and ambled in opposite directions. The three robed figures wandered silently through the desolate land, straining their senses in order to detect any miniscule delay in the incessantly ticking clock they held like searchlights.
“I hear something!” cried Andreios, his strong voice resonating throughout the marble plain. “My clock has slowed! This way to infinity!”
“I hear it too.” announced Sophia as she arrived by Andreios’ side, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Let us continue in this direction.”
The three cloaked figures quickened their pace, striding together. After much walking, the trinity left behind the limestone fields and climbed the ashen hills that surrounded that wretched land. Finally they emerged from the hills into a verdant valley, at the foot of which abided a quiet village.
The grass growing in the valley spiraled downwards towards the village in increasing color intensity; at the summit of the hills, the grass was dry, withered and brown, but as the cloaked individuals descended towards the village, the grass around them sprouted increasingly green and fresh. It was as if a well at the valley’s epicenter fed the surrounding vegetation through a system of diffusion, so that the area most adjacent to this well would receive the greatest quantities of water, and subsequent areas lesser amounts.
“The clocks are barely moving, my friends.” stated Sophia; her voice was imperturbable, but her legs trembled underneath her robe, “We must be approaching our goal. If infinity lies within this place, then this must be the valley of the dead.”
When he heard this, Akritos clutched his clock handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The other two did not notice this involuntary reaction.
“After so many years, we are closing in upon our objective!” beamed Andreios, “The elders will be elated upon our return. At long last, our land, blessed with the absence of hate, shall find escape from the torments of death and live forevermore under the rainbow of eternal love.”
“A land of lovers, now liberated from the separation in death.” assented Sophia, and dropping her clock upon the valley’s soft grass, she kissed Andreios. They remained interlocked in this passionate embrace for several minutes, completely oblivious to Akritos’ presence. When they finally came to their senses, they turned to each other again, only this time their eyes reflected puzzlement rather than tenderness, for Akritos had disappeared.
“He is looking for her.” Andreios deduced.
“The elders forbade it.” Sophia steeled herself, “we must stop him.”
During the embrace, Akritos had run down the valley like a man possessed, his hood falling from around his head and his cloak billowing behind him. Exhausted, he arrived at the foot of the village. At the entrance, a cobblestone road led past a single white-washed house constructed on the outskirts of the village, even slightly removed from the other outlying houses. Half of this house rested upon a small plateau, and the other half sloped downwards over the vertical edge of this plateau. The cobblestone road twisted in a U-shape after a few hundred meters and then descended the valley directly below this house, so that the single edifice presided over a great portion of the village.
A few people, seemingly lost, arrived in a vehicle and pulled up besides Akritos, who was making his way towards the white-washed house.
“Excuse me.” asked an elderly mustachioed gentleman, the leader of the group, “What is the name of this place?”
“The valley of death.” answered Akritos. The gentleman was momentarily confused, then he sighed conformingly.
“I thought as much.” he said, before addressing his companions, “Folks, it looks like we’re here to stay. I don’t think we’re alive anymore.”
A uniformed man appeared from within the white-washed house.
“Halt!” he ordered, “You are entering the realm of eternal sleep, and I am its guardian. Only those whose spirit dwells in complete unconsciousness may drink from the waters of infinity.” He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief taken from his pocket and then stared suspiciously at Akritos, who was advancing on him with the clock.
“You- what are you doing here? You aren’t dead-” but his speech was cut short as Akritos swung the heavy clock and smashed it against the guard’s face, sending him spinning backwards. The guard slowly stood up again, but his neck had snapped and he could barely move about without having his head roll around his shoulders like a rubber doll.
While the elderly gentleman and his company tried to restore the guard to his normal faculties, Akritos slid down the plateau’s vertical edge towards the heart of the village.
Andreios and Sophia spied him in his descent and made to follow. Taking advantage of the impaired guardian, they ran down the cobblestone path, and in a minute reached the U-turn which led further into the village.
“Haima! Haima! My wife, Haima! Golden-haired goddess, where are you?” shouted Akritos. His quick descent down the dusty plateau had dirtied his robe and torn it in several places. Despite his sullied, wild appearance, he proceeded to hunt through the streets, exuding candor, the real object of his quest now in evidence. “Haima! Haima!” rung his honest voice. Wisely had Akritos compared himself to the black limestone, for the sincerity of his soul shined in his ugliest, darkest moment. "My love! Haima!" Nobody answered; the streets were deserted.
He tore open the door of a house. Inside, dozens of bodies rested in mattresses, sleeping. “Haima! It is me, Akritos. Where are you?” But the bodies, unconscious, did not stir. A set of stairs descended into another room, where dozens more rested on similar beds. Beyond them, another set of stairs, and another room, and then another. Akritos despaired, pulling his hair as he stumbled outside.
He was startled out of his lament by a husky female voice. A spindly old woman motioned to him behind one of the doors, smiling avariciously. "I have your Haima, Akritos." she rasped, "But should you wish to see her, you must eternally remain by her side."
"Who are you?" demanded Akritos, shakily approaching her.
"I am the grief of departed love. Come with me." she grabbed Akritos' arm with her bony hand; her grip was extraordinarily firm.
Just then, Andreios and Sophia appeared behind a curb. They saw the old woman leading Akritos into the house, and she too caught sight of them.
"This man is mine! The well of infinity you seek waits behind that next row of houses." she croaked.
"Akritos!" shouted Sophia. He lingered outside the door, but the old woman did not relinquish her hold.
Akritos sighed, and his eyes glinted in the sun due to the tears welling up in that deep cove. "These tears you see, my friends, are of bitter happiness. I will soon be reunited with my love at long last, though in death. You search infinite love, vain children, without realizing that it is never far off. You shall now return to our land with an elixir of eternal life, and discover the distresses of infinite love. I, too, am led towards the cold felicity of death."
Once this was said, Akritos allowed himself to be pulled inside the shadow-plagued room, and disappeared in its gloom.
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Fri May 02, 2008 10:42 pm Post subject: Entry 6 - Untitled. |
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The man, dressed in the black garb of his trade, sighed as he looked upon the featureless plain. He knew he shouldn't have opened the door too soon. The mage's stronghold was made to travel the vast nothingness between worlds, and was never meant to be opened unto that nothingness.
The moment he had opened that door, the man had been sucked out of the stronghold, and had fallen, fallen, fallen...
Until, with a soft thump, he landed on the endless beach before him. Around him were various figures dressed in black robes, each one operating a lever. But beyond that, there was nothing. Nothing but the clear sky and the endless sands.
The man dusted himself off and walked towards one of the figures. "Where is this?"
The figure held up a clock, looked at the man, and spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper. "We are here to direct lives. Our clocks tell us when we should pull the switch. It diverts a mortal mind down a different path, the one they should take. How are you here?"
The man looked around. There was a horde of black-cloaked men behind him, and only a few in front of him. "That is the more recent past, I assume?" he said while pointing behind him.
"And we are the future, and you, being mortal, are forever bound to the present, the now."
The man looked to his sides and saw that there was a line of men to either side that seemed to stretch on to infinity. "How can I leave?"
Just then, there was a sudden Ker-thunk as the figure next to him pulled a switch. The man felt vaguely like he was dropping before the world swirled before him...
And he was back in the mage's stronghold, in front of the door again. This time, he knew better, and did not touch the door until he had arrived. _________________ Neil Hartley Books.
My Amazon page.
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Smee Revered IFian
Joined: 16 Oct 2004 Topics: 166 Posts: 5215 Location: UK Items Legends
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 9:08 am Post subject: |
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Are we closing this? _________________ The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 4:40 pm Post subject: |
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It shall be closed shortly! Probably today. (If anyone else wishes to enter, please PM me and I'll delay.) _________________ Neil Hartley Books.
My Amazon page.
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 10:43 pm Post subject: |
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Oops! I put the poll up for this earlier, but forgot to do a 'bump'.
So, poll is up, please lather yourself with the SoaP of voting, and PM me those guesses! (Don't forget the entry fee!!)
_________________ Neil Hartley Books.
My Amazon page.
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D-Lotus Venerable IFian
Joined: 21 Oct 2004 Topics: 103 Posts: 4123 Location: Hollywood, USA Items Legends
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Posted: Mon May 19, 2008 9:37 pm Post subject: |
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The fight is on, Smee. The Judgment will be mine!
And for you guys who have some dispensable fables (you might as well spend them on something!), I encourage you to participate in the guessing section of this competition. This is the first time I've played the Judgment, and it really is very fun, so I recommend playing! _________________ Chapter 5: The Rendezvous
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Smee Revered IFian
Joined: 16 Oct 2004 Topics: 166 Posts: 5215 Location: UK Items Legends
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Posted: Mon May 19, 2008 11:04 pm Post subject: |
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*giggles*
Give it up Dani, you'll never defeat me.
I got more in my first guess, than you have after 3.
Oh, dang you've caught up!
But I have a guess waiting to be marked. 6 correct authors. Yup.
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Posted: Wed May 21, 2008 4:35 am Post subject: |
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I'll leave this open to the weekend, so get yer votes in quick!
Also guesses, can anyone beat Smee and D, who are locked in a ever escalating battle for guess-dominance!? PM me your guesses now! (with entry fee of course). _________________ Neil Hartley Books.
My Amazon page.
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D-Lotus Venerable IFian
Joined: 21 Oct 2004 Topics: 103 Posts: 4123 Location: Hollywood, USA Items Legends
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Posted: Wed May 21, 2008 3:53 pm Post subject: |
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17 points!? This is madness! I have to guess ALL of them right to beat that... Ah, well, there's only so many active members of IF. I'll get 'em eventually.
As for closing the poll, Cren, I'm not sure closing it over the weekend would be so wise, considering the existing number of votes and the vote margin. Besides, I have a hunch that the author of the currently leading story wouldn't be completely satisfied if the contest ended by a one vote margin. _________________ Chapter 5: The Rendezvous
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sir wax Citizen
Joined: 03 Mar 2008 Topics: 9 Posts: 269 Location: i come from outer space, to save the human race Items Legends
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Posted: Wed May 21, 2008 5:31 pm Post subject: |
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Yes, please leave these till the weekend is over. i haven't read all of them yet, very hectic week.
Sincerely,
SirWaxaLot
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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D-Lotus Venerable IFian
Joined: 21 Oct 2004 Topics: 103 Posts: 4123 Location: Hollywood, USA Items Legends
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2008 3:17 pm Post subject: |
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*sigh*
So close... on everything. Oh well. Good job, Smee, I'm glad my vote carried you through; you are the deserving winner. _________________ Chapter 5: The Rendezvous
Last edited by D-Lotus on Wed May 28, 2008 3:19 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Chinaren Hallowed IFian
Joined: 05 Sep 2005 Topics: 340 Posts: 8893 Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com Items Legends
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Smee Revered IFian
Joined: 16 Oct 2004 Topics: 166 Posts: 5215 Location: UK Items Legends
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2008 5:27 am Post subject: |
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Aaaah, Trampy, you sneaky little author.
The one I couldn't get. Fancy sneaking an entry in when not even active in the City.
Awww, Dani, did ya really vote for little ol' me. How kind. _________________ The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Who deserves the crown of SoaP?? |
Entry 1 - Time is of the Essence |
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33% |
[ 2 ] |
Entry 2 - Gearshift |
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16% |
[ 1 ] |
Entry 3 - Last Day |
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16% |
[ 1 ] |
Entry 4 - The Call Back |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
Entry 5 - Quest for Infinite Love |
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16% |
[ 1 ] |
Entry 6 - (untitled) |
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16% |
[ 1 ] |
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Total Votes : 6 |
Who Voted: Chinaren, Crossfire, D-Lotus, DeadManWalking, Phantomfan, Smee |
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You cannot post new topics in this forum You cannot reply to topics in this forum You cannot edit your posts in this forum You cannot delete your posts in this forum You cannot vote in polls in this forum
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