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Alegria
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 Posted: Tue Aug 19, 2008 6:18 pm Post subject: Uriel [Finally!!!! Chapter 2 is polling!!!!] |
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Warning! Though this prologue may not contain it, this SG is very likely to eventually contain graphic descriptions of murders. This prologue also contains a scene of sexually-related murder. This also could be viewed as slightly religiously offensive... maybe.
Prologue:
Accusare Nemo se Debet Nisi Coram Deo
A letter dropped in the mail slot.
Inside the large study, Jarred Varencinco was counting a rather large stack of money. He did not hear the letter drop in from the mail, he was simply too enamored with his own gains, gains that had come from the health, both mental and physical, of others. His wife did not notice it either. She was leaning over a catalogue in a large, overstuffed chair much like her husband's. She sneezed every once in a while as Jarred's cigar smoke tickled her nose. She squinted at him through the smoke and gloom of the room. Her voice was clipped and brusque. "I don't know why we can't do this in a room with more light, dear. Now, how much money have you counted so far, and how much of it is from the drugs?"
Mr. Varencinco glared at her over the top of the heft stack of bills he was counting. "Why do you need to know how much is from the side-business, Hillary?"
She sighed. "I need to know how much we're paying taxes on, dear. Now, stop counting for a while and tell me if you like this one." She held up the open catalogue which showed a large, glossy picture of a large yacht being captained by a woman in a bikini.
Jarred looked at it. "I like the captain. I like the other boat better, though." He finished his counting. "300 thousand. 250 thousand of it is from the drugs."
Hillary nodded. 50 thousand legal. She could live with that. She was about to say something else when the children ran in, the oldest boy holding an envelope in one hand and leading his new girlfriend with the other.
Jarred quickly put up the money before the youths saw it and stood up.
"Kids! What have you been up to?"
The teen with the envelope rolled his eyes. "Bugging me and Jackie."
The littlest girl giggled. "Jackie and I," she corrected. They all looked at her. "Mrs. Arnold taught us that rule today in school."
Hillary got up and hugged the two identical blonde girls, her youngest children. "And are you enjoying the first grade?"
"Yes"
"No"
Mr. Valencinco changed the subject as he saw the envelope in his son's hand. "What is that, Mark?"
The adolescent shrugged. "It was in front of the mail-slot."
Hillary looked at him oddly. "But the mail already came this morning, right? Is there a return address?" She then abruptly turned to the pretty brunette in her son's hand. "How are you, Jackie?"
"Fine"
The boy looked at it. "Nope. Just a funny symbol."
Jarred sighed. Drug business. "OK, kids. Your mother and I are very busy." He looked at his daughters. "You two aren't to bother your brother anymore." He took the envelope from Mark. "Thanks."
The children left, the twins to play with dolls and Mark and Jackie to round bases.
Jarred got his letter opener and tore open the envelope. He read it over and shut the door quietly, his face in a state of shock.
Mrs. Valencinco looked at him. "What's wrong, honey."
With a shaking voice Jarred read the letter aloud. The letters seemed to be written in blood, and the smell was horrible.
My Dearest Friends,
I have good knews for you! Reed carefully, cause this might be the most import news you'll get for a while. First let me introduce me. God the all-mighty has sent my brothers and me to Erth to bring certane soles to hevan. I am Uriel. God has founded you to be unworthy for live and told me to kyll you and your family. I am to kill you over a period of 6 days, but that's ok, i kill you over longer time if you pay- $10,000 a day. Just leve the payments in your male box.
You no can tell polic, they wander where you have money and how much and then you get busted to jail for your live. You shoold not have selled dreugs. That is why God want me to kyll u. Jacky too. One will dye a day.
Psalm 75:10-
All the horns of the wicked also will I cut off; but the horns of the righteous shall be exalted.
Hillary sank down into the chair, aghast. “Who? How? What?”
Mr. Valencinco didn’t respond, however. He was already out the door, putting all 300 thousand dollars he had counted that morning into the mailbox. Then, silent as a dead man he walked back to his house, reassuring his wife that he had met a friend outside who had sent the letter as a bad joke. He half convinced himself it was true.
***
Sixth months later Mr. Valencinco woke up from his pleasant dreams. The unfriendly letter from his “joking friend” was all but behind him and he had no ill thoughts in his head or heart as he got out of bed. To him it was just another day of the growing drug-business. Hillary went to wake up the twins and make sure Mark was up.
A scream rang throughout the house.
***
Mrs. Valencinco had woken up to get the twins ready. She knocked on their door. "Girls, wake up!" No response. "Come on girls, rise and shine!" Still no one. Finally she opened the doors. Both the girls were huddled up together, shaking with fright. Hillary was suprised. "Girls, what's wrong?"
One of the girls, with a trembling lip, finally responded. "The boogy-man."
Mrs. Valencinco looked at them suspiciously. "You girls never beleived in the boogy-man before..."
The younger twin shook her head. Her voice was small. "He visited Mark and Jackie last night. We heard them screaming, and we were about to go see if they needed help when..." she broke off into sobs.
The other girl supplied the missing information. "... the screaming stopped. We knocked on the door, but no one answered, and it was locked, and..."
But Mrs. Valencinco didn't hear the rest of the story, she remembered the letter and started running for her son's door.
She reached for the door handle. It was unlocked now. She opened the door and screamed. Her husband rushed to her side and stood completely still, shell-shocked.
"Oh my God," he breathed.
***
The walls were covered in nonesensical phrases in latin and greek and passages from the Bible. In the center of a wall was the symbol on the letter.
My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?
He wept
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned
Veni Vidi Vici
I told you so
All were written in the blood of the victims. The walls taunted the parents. It was even worse when one looked at the lifeless bodies of a teenage boy and his girlfriend. They were nude, their feet hammered to the floor. Their upper bodies were held up by fishing wire. As soon as the door opened, a motor whirred and a tape-recorder started to play. The motor pulled strings that made it look like the two teens were having sex, but their bodies were drained of blood, the boy's manhood was cut off, there were lacerations and scratches all over both's bodies. They had been stabbed in the stomach to ensure a painful death, their very blood used to adorn the walls. The parents hollowly listened to the tape recording.
You could hear the boy and girl alternating between moaning and sobbing. The moaning sounded fake, not lustful. A scratchy voice rasped like nails on a chalkboard.
"Make it sound more realistic. This is the last thing your parents will ever hear from you, so you'd better make it sound realistic."
"Why are you doing this to us?" It was Mark's voice, sobbing with fear.
"God said to." The voice was menacing and resolute. "Moan better or your little girlfriend here loses her fingers. It won't be any worse than you losing your part, though so go ahead and cry."
Mark's moaning instantly sounded more real.
"That's better." The voice recording stopped talking to the victims and started talking to the parents. "At least your boy didn't die a virgin!" His grating laugh filled the air. "Now you all get to have fun."
Downstairs, the door opened and shut, then locked. A man with a white executioner's hood and a familiar symbol painted in gold on his hand. He flicked open a knife and went in search of his victims trapped in the house. He smiled and giggled.
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Last edited by Alegria on Tue Oct 21, 2008 6:31 pm; edited 5 times in total
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DeadManWalking
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| Posted: Tue Aug 19, 2008 7:30 pm Post subject: |
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...
wow.
that was... creepy.
member Jack D. Mented?
i immediately thought of him.
*shudders*
Good job with the spirit of things tho.
Uriel really seems like a great character.
I like the misspellings and all.
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Black Hawk
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| Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2008 4:09 am Post subject: |
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that was a bit gruesome but an excellent prologue nonetheless I also liked your usage of biblical text.
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Michael Crichton one of the greatest writers of his time 1942-2008 rest in peace
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| Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2008 6:36 am Post subject: |
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Oooh, nuckin' futs! I'm interested, indeed.
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Alegria
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| Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2008 8:37 am Post subject: |
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Thanks for the good feedback. I don't know when I'm going to write the first chapter, but I know I want to do something interesting with the DPs. Like Lotus did with "Dear Dotty..." Just something that's not done often. Any suggestions?
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Phantomfan
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| Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2008 10:35 am Post subject: |
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I have no idea for the dp suggestions you're asking about, but I did just want to say that this is freakin awesome.
Definitely hooked... can't wait to read more.
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I've been pulled back from oblivion to lurk about the City once more. Though the music of the night always beckons...
Here's some stuff I started writing a long time ago. Orb. Nexus.
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Alegria
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| Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 5:58 pm Post subject: |
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You won't have long to wait. The first chapter will be out late next week.
Brace yourselves, it's not going to be pretty...
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| Posted: Thu Aug 28, 2008 4:49 pm Post subject: |
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I
Flectere Si Nequeo Superos, Achaeronta Movebo
Johnathan Meyerson was getting home from work to his small apartment in the city. The apartment may have been small, but it was far from dingy. It was an apartment for the wealthy, floored with marble, walled with granite, spotlessly clean. He hung his jacket (which proudly flashed the name Armani on its tag) on the coat rack and sat down in front of his television to lose himself in an episode of Lost. As he watched the unfolding drama, someone knocked at the door.
Mr. Meyerson sighed and got up off the couch with the sound of popping bones. He idled over to the door and looked through the peephole.
No one.
He opened the door to look out at the hallway, convinced someone was playing a stupid joke on him. The hall was empty, but he could hear the sound of footsteps calmly walking away. He closed the door and rolled his eyes. The poor delinquents often enjoyed knocking on rich people’s doors and then running away. They also enjoyed putting little presents (usually dirty pictures) under the door. He looked down to see if there was anything off the floor.
There was only a Polaroid picture.
He picked it up. When he looked at it closer, he noticed the picture itself was of a mutilated woman, completely nude, expertly posed by some sick taxidermist to look as if she was beckoning him. There were burn Jamess all over her body and little holes, as if from sewing needles, were visible on her hand. Small trickles of dried blood leaked from the holes and dried puss caked the areas around the burns. Johnathan Meyerson did not notice any of this however. His gaze was focused on a large symbol drawn over the Polaroid in what looked like dried blood.
His face paled.
Everyone in the city knew that symbol. It was the symbol of the Uriel killer. If one was near your house, you were dead. The Uriel killer was as merciless as the Zodiac killer, and as deranged as the murderer of the Black Dahlia. No one had seen pictures of his work, the newspapers refused to print them because they were “too graphic,” but everyone had heard stories.
A small speaker crackled to life somewhere and a scratchy voice came through the speaker, like nails grating on a chalkboard.
“For the wages of sin is death…”
The transmission cut off and Johnathan felt a hand clench down on his arm and something cold against his skin. The voice sounded behind his ear, as well as heavy breathing. It sounded worse in real life.
“Every thought how your resources felt when this happened to them? Feel free to scream all you want to. It’s going to hurt.”
***
The sun filtered in through the bay windows, adding a light, delicate air to the bright room. The lace curtains fluttered as the fan spun. In the bay stood a simple table, which was set with a vase with a sunflower in it, two plates, silverware, and two glasses of juice. A man was in the kitchen, whistling as he added salt and pepper to the scrambled eggs he was cooking. He was tall and a little larger, but still handsome enough. There was brown stubble on his face which matched his hair. The nostrils on his Romanesque nose quivered as he made sure the breakfast smelled good enough. He heard steps come in from the dining room. Hands wrapped around his waist from behind and a pair of lips lightly brushed the back of his neck. He stopped whistling and smiled.
“Good morning, baby.”
The woman who was clinging to his waist smiled. “Good morning,” she happily breathed. She looked at the table. “And what’s all this for?”
The man grinned mischievously. “Don’t you know the occasion?”
The girl ruffled her blonde hair and scrunched up her pixie-like nose as she thought hard. “Just tell me, James.”
James led the woman to the table, sat her down, put her napkin in her lap, and handed her a cup of coffee. “It’s our forty-seventh day to be married, that’s all.” He winked at her.
She laughed and sipped her coffee. “You’re too sweet. What else are we doing on this monumental day?”
“Well, my lady Melanie, I took off work today. We’re going to eat breakfast, swim in the lake, have a picnic in the park, and then come home to get ready for a nice dinner at a Japanese Steakhouse. Then we’re going dancing, and then back to the house for some nice, passiona…” The phone rang. James rolled his eyes and went to answer it, looking apologetically at his wife. “This will only take a second, hon,” he whispered. He put the phone to his ear.
“James, you’ve been promoted. Congratulations!” The barking female voice from the phone did not sound congratulatory at all. “Now you have to come up here for your first assignment. Briefing is downtown as soon as you can get to the city, alright? Good. Bye.” The line went dead.
James looked at his wife apologetically. She tried to make light of it. “Let me guess, you have to go to work after all?”
He grinned sheepishly. “I got promoted, at least. Look, honey, I’ll just call them back and tell them I can’t…”
Melanie put a finger to his lips. “To protect and serve, right? Get to it. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”
***
The commissioner and the investigative team sat down in their chairs in the large conference room. There were about five of them all together. They were nervous. They new the commissioner was on edge. Her ice-blue eyes seemed to smolder, making them stand out against her red hair and deathly white skin. The last new detective, James, entered the conference room a few minutes late. They nodded to him. The commissioner stood up.
“Congratulations on your recent promotion to detective, Investigator LaFrance. Sit down.” She looked at them all now, the six members of the team. “I think you know why you’re here.” She didn’t wait for a response. “You are to find and stop Uriel. I trust you are all familiar with that name by now?”
Everyone nodded. Several gulped.
The commissioner nodded curtly. “I’ll take you through an overview to refresh your memory. More details, along with photos the press refused to release, are in your folders in front of you. We first heard of the Uriel killer a year ago. We received a severed penis in the mail along with an address written in blood. When we went to the address, we found the entire Valencinco family, along with the oldest son’s girlfriend, Jackie Rodgers, mutilated and, through a series of motors and wires, the entire family was made to look as if they were having sex and the two youngest girls were taking notes. There was also a tape recorder of a man urging the entire crying family to moan playing. That is the first we heard the killer’s voice. All on the walls were religious and Latin sayings written in the victim’s blood. The killer has struck two times afterwards and killed at least five people since. No two attacks are ever the same, but they all are disturbing, the bodies are all mutilated, and they all have religious sayings painted on the walls in blood as well as Uriel’s symbol.” She held up the well-known symbol for all to see. “We have just received a report of screams coming in from a high-rise uptown. The initial team has found it’s another Uriel killing. Uriel always, always leaves clues to his next victims at the crime-scene. Our experts always crack them a second to late. See if you can figure them out, but the main job is to stop Uriel no matter how. Good luck.”
***
The van ride over had been very quiet. Now, the team was standing at the door of the apartment, staring at the police, who had not opened the door yet.
One of them, a man with blonde hair, spoke slowly. “Why haven’t you opened the door yet?”
The policeman, a pudgy, squat fellow, was sweating profusely. “We didn’t want to disturb your crime scene.”
“Then how did you know it was Uriel?”
“We looked through the peephole, sir.”
The team exchanged annoyed glances. James spoke. “Don’t worry, officer, we’ll take it from here. Just stand-by in case we need you.”
Another officer walked up with a trashcan. “Just in case,” he said.
The team ignored this odd remark. One of them, and African American woman, opened the door.
The room was empty. There was no body, no weapon. There were the odd marks and sayings written across the wall, along with a large body of text. They were there only a few seconds when a recording started playing and a familiar, scratchy voice sliced through the quiet.
“Hello, detectives. May I be one of the first to congratulate Investigator LaFrance to the force? How are you, James? How’s the wife? I have a question. Why are you trying to keep me from doing God’s work? I only kill the bad ones. I’m kinda like Batman, in a way, actually. Just a noble citizen working for my Lord by sending sinners to Hell. Like Mr. Meyerson. He was a chef. He made bad food for good people. He was also a rapist. I asked God to guide me and He showed me that He wanted Mr. Meyerson dead. He got women pregnant because he didn’t use protection. So, I took away what natural protection he had with one of his own tools.” An ugly laugh filled the air, a maniacal laugh. From the ceiling, a single, metal object dropped and clattered on the floor. James, still shocked that Uriel knew so much about him, approached it and looked at it.
His stomach turned. On the floor was a potato peeler, caked in blood.
The body fell from the ceiling. The entire team immediately started to rush out, but found they were rooted to the spot, unwilling to move. They vomited where they were standing, their breakfasts and lunch splattering all over the marble floors, mixing with the blood that was still dripping from the body.
The body was crudely skinned. Strands of muscles hung off the body every-which way, ripped from their places along with the skin. Then, down came the skin, fluttering like sick confetti to the ground in layers. The voice was back.
“Pssst… check the coat.” More laughter.
James closed his eyes, which were watering because of the vomit. He slowly staggered to the coat on the coat rack. He checked it all over. It was obviously designer, but some of the letters on the tag were covered by dried blood. It read A____I. The African American girl started reading the note on the wall with a quavering voice.
May the grace J of God be with you!
How ar you? I guess you say me litle akt of God K. Katch me if you can! E Here a knifty A tool two hep you keep score. C. You can put in office if want, it wireless!
A scoreboard from a gym somewhere dropped down from the ceiling on wires. The names Home and Visitor were marked out. It now read Police-0, (Uriel’s symbol)-14. Then, before their eyes, Uriel’s score went up to 15. The scratchy voice came from a speaker in the board. “874 Grand Avenue. 3:29 P.M.”
DP
You're the detective. Try to save the next victim and solve the clue (you have to actually solve the clue to nominate this decision), check Grand Avenue, what????
Hurry, the score is getting more uneven everyday...
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DeadManWalking
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| Posted: Thu Aug 28, 2008 4:58 pm Post subject: |
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I have no suggestions.
Maybe later.
Another good segment.
Nice, Leggie!
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| Posted: Fri Aug 29, 2008 8:16 am Post subject: |
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very intresting and gory might I add.
as for the clue I have no clue what it's suposed to mean
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I'm not crazy*, my reality is just different from yours.
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| Posted: Fri Aug 29, 2008 10:53 am Post subject: |
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quite gory and as for the clue I've got nothing
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Michael Crichton one of the greatest writers of his time 1942-2008 rest in peace
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| Posted: Fri Aug 29, 2008 12:00 pm Post subject: |
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No freakin' idea.
Still, check out what I found! φ
Not to mention, it appears to be phi. Ph is my thing!...phing. What're you tryin' to say?
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Alegria
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| Posted: Fri Aug 29, 2008 12:02 pm Post subject: |
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Well you don't have to solve the clue. You can suggest other things. Like how does Uriel know Jame's name and info? What happened on Grand Avenue? etc....
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| Posted: Sat Aug 30, 2008 4:43 am Post subject: |
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mabey james ends up being one of the vicitums and it happens in central square. As an example to others to remind them to follow gods will......but mabey insead of james he gets some one elts that looks like james.........
_________________
And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you ~shadow of the day, linkin park
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I'm not crazy*, my reality is just different from yours.
*most of the time
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Alegria
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| Posted: Sat Aug 30, 2008 7:00 am Post subject: |
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hmmmmmmmm.... that's possible, I'll put it on the poll.
Phang, how did you get the "phi" symbol into text????
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DeadManWalking
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| Posted: Sat Aug 30, 2008 10:34 am Post subject: |
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HEY maybe some copycat killer kills the real one.
Or something. Sorry, random thought.
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| Posted: Sat Aug 30, 2008 12:10 pm Post subject: |
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| Alegria wrote: | hmmmmmmmm.... that's possible, I'll put it on the poll.
Phang, how did you get the "phi" symbol into text???? |
Magic.
Alternatively:
Use character map.
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Alegria
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| Posted: Sun Aug 31, 2008 7:40 am Post subject: |
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Thanks a ton. I'll give you a hint about the clue....
Pay attention to the letters.
Come on, get solving!!!!!
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Black Hawk
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| Posted: Sun Aug 31, 2008 9:40 am Post subject: |
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ARGH this puzzle is driving me farther and farther into insanity and I still can't figure it out
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Michael Crichton one of the greatest writers of his time 1942-2008 rest in peace
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zahark
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| Posted: Mon Sep 01, 2008 3:53 am Post subject: |
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are the letters suposed to say some thing but are all scrambled
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And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you ~shadow of the day, linkin park
-------------
I'm not crazy*, my reality is just different from yours.
*most of the time
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Alegria
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| Posted: Mon Sep 01, 2008 7:10 am Post subject: |
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Yep.....
They're both sorta common words, you'll recognize them both.
Just keep on solving.....
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zahark
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| Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 3:48 am Post subject: |
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the letters in the middle are scrambled right and the a and i are suposed to stay on the out side
_________________
And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you ~shadow of the day, linkin park
-------------
I'm not crazy*, my reality is just different from yours.
*most of the time
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zahark
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| Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 6:21 am Post subject: |
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ok I'm confused i arranged all the letters in every way possible and still it makes no sence to me unless I missed a letter or some thing and these are all the possibbilitys I came up with
jkec jkec jekc jeck jcek jcke
kjec kjce kcje kcej kejc kecj
ekjc ekjc ecjk eckj ejck ejkc
cejk cekj ckej ckje cjke cjek
and if you add a at the beginning and i at the end its even more confusing
it's suposed to be two words but I can't make heads or tails of it? 
_________________
And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you ~shadow of the day, linkin park
-------------
I'm not crazy*, my reality is just different from yours.
*most of the time
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 9:33 am Post subject: |
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Hmm.
I think, since we know that Uriel is a little spelling-impaired.. the scrambled letters create the words "Ace" and "Kaij".. or "CAGE".. if you were spelling things like a normal person.
So, maybe Ace Cage is a person who live at that location? Or maybe that has something to do with the manner of the next victim's death?
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shy_blu_eyes
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| Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 9:58 am Post subject: |
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What about looking at what's missing? From Armani, R,M,A, and N have been removed. T is missing from little, E is missing from are, and L is missing from help. Two Cs have been replaced by Ks and another K was added to nifty. Two adds an unnecessary W. Perhaps the spelling/grammer errors are part of the code?
I'm intrigued by this story, although considering the graphic nature I'm not sure that I'll continue reading it. To the rest of you, good luck! I hope you crack the code and catch the bastard...soon. The streets of IF won't be safe until you do!
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A Mysterious Witch, A Bloodthirsty Noble, A Druid with one personality too many, and An Assassin with a price on his head...
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 10:19 am Post subject: |
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| ooo, that's a really good idea, Shy!
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zahark
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| Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 10:59 am Post subject: |
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mabey...but I still think that it has some thing more to do with the random letters thrown in.
_________________
And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you ~shadow of the day, linkin park
-------------
I'm not crazy*, my reality is just different from yours.
*most of the time
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Alegria
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| Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 12:06 pm Post subject: |
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A further hint.
Shy is part right.
Zahark is part right.
Uriel is just a bad speller.
THAT'S ALL THE HINTS YOU GET!!!!!
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| Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2008 12:49 pm Post subject: |
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| No breakthroughs on the code, but I reccomend that the police find out what is at that address, set up a stakeout, and consider evacuating the residents if there are any.
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Alegria
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| Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2008 1:29 pm Post subject: |
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If we have no solutions to the riddle by tomorrow we're just going with the suggestions we have. And I'll give you the answers. 
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zahark
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| Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2008 2:07 pm Post subject: |
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mabbey its the letters missing from Armani and the random ones thrown in....
_________________
And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you ~shadow of the day, linkin park
-------------
I'm not crazy*, my reality is just different from yours.
*most of the time
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Alegria
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Location: On the beaches with Dr. Suess' Sneeches. Only the star-bellied ones, of course.
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| Posted: Fri Sep 05, 2008 3:35 pm Post subject: |
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I feel horrible doing this when Zahark was so close, but I'm afraid that we have to get this SG moving at a decent speed.
Thus, I will reveal the answer of the riddle and start the first poll.
The things to look for were the missing letters in ARMANI and the random letters in the note from Uriel. All together, the letters were:
RMANJKEAC
This is a name, so it is actually two words. Mix it all up right and you get the correct solution-
JACK RAMEN.
So now that I have shown you the method to the maddness, I have to ask. Did you think the riddle was worthwhile????? Was it a good idea???
I just write this thing. While you vote, you decide if you really want to spend the SG solving Uriel's demented riddles.
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A writer doesn't solve problems. He allows them to emerge.
-Friedrich Dürrenmatt
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Black Hawk
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| Posted: Fri Sep 05, 2008 7:29 pm Post subject: |
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I think the riddles are wonderful but I'm just not good at riddles well most riddles
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"I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report the facts."
-Will Rodgers
Michael Crichton one of the greatest writers of his time 1942-2008 rest in peace
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Alegria
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| Posted: Fri Sep 05, 2008 7:40 pm Post subject: |
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Ah crap.
I forgot to put an author's option in the poll.
Oooops...
Well I'm voting for "investigate the wireless signal" but my vote doesn't count.
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A writer doesn't solve problems. He allows them to emerge.
-Friedrich Dürrenmatt
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Phang
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| Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2008 10:53 am Post subject: |
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Mmm, ramen. That's newdels.
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zahark
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| Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2008 4:12 am Post subject: |
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I think the riddles are a good idea it makes your story more interesting and it allows us as readers to interact more.
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And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you ~shadow of the day, linkin park
-------------
I'm not crazy*, my reality is just different from yours.
*most of the time
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Alegria
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| Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2008 7:36 am Post subject: |
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Voting will continue until Tuesday!
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A writer doesn't solve problems. He allows them to emerge.
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Alegria
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Location: On the beaches with Dr. Suess' Sneeches. Only the star-bellied ones, of course.
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| Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 3:21 pm Post subject: |
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Polls are closed!!!!
The winner is to check Grand.
Be expecting a new chapter soon!!!
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A writer doesn't solve problems. He allows them to emerge.
-Friedrich Dürrenmatt
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2008 5:49 pm Post subject: |
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| I love the riddles! I thinks it's a great way to make an SG even MORE interactive!
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| Posted: Sat Sep 13, 2008 7:46 am Post subject: |
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| Congrats your story is added to the top ten on lots of joy! I say that he finds a danger note from the killer then he solves the dangers and stuff like the name of the killer, by unclueing the note.
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