Discussion in 'Community' started by Nyota's Heart, Oct 16, 2012.
New round: 48 hours to send.
Now, I can tag:
~~ Note: Due to unavoidable circumstances, we lost a player, so I've adjusted the rounds to fit.
was thinking about doing that... just didn't want to double post...
@Darth Ibonek &
@TheGuardianofArlon Your stories have cycled around to be completed. 48 hours.
@Trimaj -- still need the completion of your stories, otherwise there won't be enough to vote on.
sorry. been sick the last week almost. was asleep earlier, and i'll get it in tonight. it hasn't even been 24 hours yet though has it?
Sorry, have had major computer issues Sending now!
sorry. like i said, been sick. still am. just happened to wake up and figured i'd get this done since sleep didn't seem likely due to sleeping pretty much all of yesterday.
Here are all completed stories. Please vote by indicating the number in a PM within 48 hours.
They were very unique and fun
Jeb hadn't realized what it was going to feel like to die. Surprisingly, it was less painful than a sword through the gut might seem. As his vision darkened, and his breathing slowed, the thought that it was almost peaceful crossed his mind. Which was ironic given that he'd died in the middle of a battlefield. Maybe this is just the beginning, he thought as blackness overtook him and a final breath escaped his lungs.
He floats in the darkness for a time before first cold, then warmth begin to enter his dark world. His lumbering mind tried to dismiss it as for he was surely dead. People in his time did not survive a wound like his. Sound filters in shortly thereafter. Most of it is unclear but for one sentence, though it was nonsensical to him: "Retrievement and revival successful."
He couldn't make it out. What did all that mean? He felt...stuck, not like in a situation but like in a box. He started to worry as he could feel himself against something. "No, I'm dead," he thought. But not being able to move but knowing he could was very confusing. And frightening.
After a while--minutes or hours, he couldn't be sure--he managed to open his eyes. The light felt blinding, so he quickly shut them again, then opened them slowly. "Hello?" he called. His voice echoed around the empty chamber.
Suddenly, he heard a voice from a speaker above him.
"You're name is John-117. You have just survived a biological enhancement operation. You will now be part of an elite training program to become a Spartan-II supersoldier. Are you up for the task?"
So this was what it was like to be reborn. Sitting up, he found himself suddenly lurching forward, as it seemed he was no longer used to his body. Muscle memories would have to be relearned, but that was ok. He had signed up for this after all. Looking down at his hands, John-117 flexed each of his fingers slowly.
"I repeat, are you up to the task?" The voice asked.
Looking up, John nodded. "I'm ready for whatever you can throw at me."
In a museum at the end of the universe lies all sorts of artifacts. Some are big; some are small, and some are too dangerous to be displayed in nothing but the strictest of containers. Such was the case with one particular artifact. Locked away behind the most unbreakable glass was something so rare, most agreed there would never be another like it. For it was the last Time Lord in existance, preserved at the very end of his life.
Suddenly a circular light appears and a man steps out of it. It's the man in the glass! He looks at the glass, takes out a gadget and presses some buttons. The glass disappears and the man falls to the ground. The portal man presses more buttons and the man comes back to life and vitality. He stands and brushes himself off. "Splendid," he says.
He looks around the room, searching for something. It takes him several minutes before, with an "Ah-ha," he finds himself standing before an old, blue telephone box, the likes of which haven't been seen for thousands of years. "Hello, old girl," he whispers before unlocking the box and stepping inside.
The man reached into his pocket for a quarter. He placed it inside the telephone, but the coin came back out. "Huh... this usually works..." As he bent down to pick up his quarter, the man noticed a curved crevice on the floor. "This mark must have been made when the telephone was moved. He pushed the telephone slightly aside, and found a secret door underneath where the telephone booth originally was. Little did the man know that this passage way was going to change his life forever.
It was a portal that showed his beloved Gallifrey as it once before the time war, before the vile Daleks destroyed everything. He found himself faced with a choice, go back to the people he loved and had missed for time uncounted, or try and figure out what the devil was going on in his current situation. Such a choice was never easy, and he felt his curiosity tugging him toward the present, such as it ever was for a time lord. But his heart longed to go back home. Something he'd never thought was even remotely possible ever again. He knew that the choice he made would forever define the rest of his life. But he was the Doctor, and blast it, he would make it.
With a heaviness in his heart, he takes out his Sonic Screwdriver and closes the portal to Gallifrey. He would always long for the place of his birth. That would never change. However, for now, there were far more pressing concerns in the universe. Top of that list: finding out why he was still alive. With that, he brushed off eons of dust off the TARDIS console and the two old friends set out on one last grand adventure.
I walk into the hallway and view the longness of it. It seems to stretch for miles, but I know it only does for a quarter. Nothing on the bare walls but the drabness of gray; the floor matching. I start to walk the hall, cautiously as I don't know where the Creeper is. I know it could be anywhere, even behind me. I take a quick glance behind, but nothing is there. I move forward.
I grip the knife in my hand, but at this point, I'm not sure it will do the trick. But holding it makes me feel a little safer, so I clutch it, knuckles white. It's bad enough that I"m so afraid I'm shaking. It's worse that the Creeper knows I am.
Suddenly, I felt a cold hand on my back. It crawled slowly onto my shoulder. Then it started to grip tighter and tighter. I didn't know what to do; I just closed my eyes. Then everything went still. Absolutely still.
I froze in place, not knowing what to do. A sound couldn't even escape my lips.
Suddenly, a loud bell sounded. The grip loosened, and everything faded. I was relieved and puzzled all at once.
"Are you going to hand me your homework before you leave Mr.Edis?"
I hand the teacher my homework. I walk down the hall. I decide to stop watching horror movies and playing games.
It was a dark and stormy night. Rain splatted on the ground as the wind whipped the trees so hard that leaves were torn off and flung through the air. The moon, usually full at this time of the month, was hidden behind the clouds.
"How odd..." pondered the young rabbit, who was scouting for his village of young rabbits. "I must report back to my friends and family." The rabbit scurried back into the burrows. Little did he know that this sudden stormy weather will be indicative of the atrocious acts to come in the rabbit village.
The young rabbit had barely returned and given his dire message, when ... Suddenly, a loud alarm sounded. All the rabbits had to rush underground to get away from the approaching funnel cloud, which had been concocted by weather wielders, so that their enemies could come in and steal their carrots and cabbages.
Little did anyone suspect the real reason behind the magiking going on with the weather. While the carrots and cabbages were a nice side prize, but the ultimate goal was to raise one of the old ones, a forgotten horror from another age, cthulunnie! The bane of all sane existence. THe young rabbit glanced out of the hole, and to his horror he saw a white, fluffy tentacle forming in the sky. "Oh no! Whatever shall we do?!" he screamed in a panic. Scurrying inside, vowing that the outside world was not for him, he headed to the elders to inform them of this dire news.
Many were shocked. The younger ones held expressions of both fear and anger; wanting to fight this monster forming in their village. Many of the elders were resigned. For to them it was the prophesized beginnings of the apocalypse foretold many moons ago. To them this was the end of them all and most prepared themselves and their kits and grand kits for death.
The rabbits huddled in their burrows, awaiting the monster forming in the sky. Rain slashed down viciously, turning dirt into mud and seeping through the tunnels. Luckily for the rabbits, the storm was over almost as soon as it began. The clouds started to clear away, and they emerged from the ground, safe and sound.
It was kick-off. I could already feel the goose bumps dispersing from my arms to the rest of my upper body. I was finally here! In this stadium was my favorite football team I have followed ever since I was three. The seats were jam-packed with bustling supporters of Manchester United, who donned their bullish red and white jerseys. I could already see the twinkle in their eyes.
80 pulse pounding minutes of night uninterrupted action later, and the score was still an incredibly tense nil-nil. Both teams had run the pitch well, and the defenses were playing as tough as nails. The players' jerseys were stained with sweat and dirt and grass; a sign of great effort on both parts. The crowd began to chant as Man U's offense began to make a push. I joined in, carried away by the collective adrenaline.
It's amazing how much one can get caught up in something that is just a game, but as Wayne Rooney took a crossing pass from the right side of the goal the entire stadium held its collective breath. His foot connected, and time seemed to move in slow motion as thousands of eyes followed the bicycle kicked ball towards the goal. Would it go in? We'd know in seconds. We'd know in an eternity.
It did! The crowd roared with excitement as the ball went above the goalie's head into the net. The whole stadium literally shook as the crowd cheered it's pleasure at what surely was now all but guaranteed a victory. Suddenly I was being jostled this way and that. I didn't realize how close to the edge of the walkway in my seating area I was.
I fall over onto the crowd. Or I almost do. I dangle above while everyone cheers. No one noticing me from below. Slowly, I'm hoisted up back where I was. A red shirt looks at me square in the eye, and continues to drag me up the stairs and puts me in handcuffs. Is this normal procedure for someone who almost died?
I was soon dragged and thrown into a cop car.
Unbeknownst to me, a Man City supporter, distraught at the thought of losing, accused me of match-fixing. So much for being a real supporter. Nevertheless, I'm just proud to don the red shirt and wave the red flag high. Manchester is Red!
@NYCitygurl -- hope your computer problems are fixed
Had some more issues -- I'm thinking it's my Internet, not my computer Voting now!
Yay all votes are in and woot!
Trimaj is behind story one and Juliet316 behind story two.
Arlon is author of #3. Nat of #4. And Darth Ibonek of #5.
#3 got a vote. #4 and #5 got two votes each. So there's a 2-way tie. Great round.
Cool! Ibonek, enjoy the colors
Cool colors Nat
LOL time for zaniness again.
meh, why not.
Absolutely. I finally get to play a game! Yes!
1. Idrelle Miocovani
I'll have another go.
1. Idrelle Miocovani