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Sorus
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Post by Sorus »

Thanks! That's about the image I was aiming for, insofar as I had a plan.

Oh, a change is coming, feel these doors now closing
Is there no world for tomorrow, if we wait for today?


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Shuram Gudatetris
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Post by Shuram Gudatetris »

The Tragedy of Pearl Magnus


Pearl Magnuss was conceived by two time-travellers who were outside of their proper time-lines.

Everybody knows that when you time travel, you have to change your time-signature, otherwise the system would simply read your sig, and re-locate you to your proper temporal origin. Love is a mysterious thing, and sometimes it strikes when you least expect it. Love is kind of like fate: it works in mysterious ways. Anna Thompson and Cowbo'y Collumnbou are not immune to fate, love, or circumstance (or VD, but thankfully that was not on their minds, otherwise a condom may have ended existence as we know it).


-------
Ah, two minutes is TOUGH. I can barely get out three paragraphs in 15 minutes! This may have been closer to five, but I got it out as fast as I could!

Mostly raw and unedited, except what I smoothed over as I was typing. But now that I'm not on the clock, please allow me to indulge in a little back story?

This is a *small* piece of a story that is very special to me.

Much like the Bad Writing game in Mallorys, when I was younger, a friend of mine and I used to sort of "compete" to write the best worst story we could. It really started from my desire to write "good" stories, which my friend would ridicule me for by writing "bad" stories that made fun of mine. And he was really good at it.

His were so good in a bad way, and so fucking funny, that I wanted to write bad stories in a good way. (Or maybe it's the other way around? ;) ) Either way, it became a game for us to write stupid, funny stories, each trying to one-up the previous.

Anyhoo, long story short, before we fell out of that sort of thing (we were 19 at the time) we issued each other a mad libs sort of challenge. This was the last "challenge" we presented to each other. I never finished mine.

But something like five years later, I read what I had written, and a bomb went off in my head.

I finished the story in a flurry, and the end result was a not-quite-readable, dis-jointed ... eh, well, it wasn't "good" but maybe parts were? I mean, something like 25%-33% was supposed to be awful, and the rest a passion project that was never proof-read or perfected to presentability.

It was satisfying, however.

It was a story that I had finished. And ending a story feels so good. I don't do it very often, but I did on this one.

I'm rambling, but fast-forward another five years or so. I am laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, thinking random thoughts....And another bomb goes off in my head. I suddenly understand why this stupid story that I started as a teenager meant so much to me.

I know my story.

-------------

And that was years ago.

It's too important to me for me to actually ruin it by creating it. But I do write snippets from time to time. Here's a very snippety snippet. 15 mins is waaaay to scary, but maybe 2 can get something going.

Funny thing is, it seems whenever I try to work on something "serious", I always have to have two different serious projects going at once. I do have another project I am working on, but I've lost some of the material I've already constructed for it, and feel like I must have it back before I go forward with it.

So, here's a bit about Pearl (or, up ^there^, rather.).
Covenant is Linden Frankenstein's monster.

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Sorus
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Post by Sorus »

Shuram Gudatetris wrote: It was satisfying, however.

It was a story that I had finished. And ending a story feels so good. I don't do it very often, but I did on this one.

Finishing stuff is where I fail. The fanfic thing I've been posting in 2-minute snips is a spinoff of a larger project that I've been working on for... holy cow, 27 years now. I guess there are worse things one could do, especially for 27 years, but holy cow. Where does the time go?

I like the 2-minute limit because I'm prone to editing. And over-editing. And editing a bit more. And ending up back at the original because it didn't need editing.
Shuram Gudatetris wrote:It's too important to me for me to actually ruin it by creating it.
That makes sense to me too, but sometimes I have to write stuff because that's the only way to make it stop bouncing around in my head.

Oh, a change is coming, feel these doors now closing
Is there no world for tomorrow, if we wait for today?


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Linna Heartbooger
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Post by Linna Heartbooger »

Yay - love to see the action here!
I'm back to the story with the old lady and the nurse.

What Has Gone Most Recently:
Passed back in with the paperwork in hand; leaned forward:
"You get it in the hand or in the forehead; It's smaller than a grain of rice... then the scanners can pick up the info that's saved on it electronically. Then you can, you know... buy, sell, make a profit."
"There shouldn't be any allergic reactions. We have literally done eight billion of these with nobody having any allergic symptoms to it yet."


Today's:
She put on her glasses.
"Now, let's see here."
I sighed and leaned back.
Couldn't win 'em all.
Then my Alert-At-Hand went off.
Oh, sweet relief.
"I need to check on someone down the hall."
"Of course dearie. This'll take me awhile, anyway," she said, settling in.
I rushed out the door, blustering past the mirror on my way out.
I only made it fifty feet down the corridor when I realized I forgot my extra kit.
Left it by the old lady, so back again.


Sorus, I'm glad you re-posted the bit that Shuram got you to salvage... I wouldn't have seen it otherwise.
It's a bit like poetry at the beginning. While also being a dialog!
Shuram wrote:Funny thing is, it seems whenever I try to work on something "serious", I always have to have two different serious projects going at once. I do have another project I am working on, but I've lost some of the material I've already constructed for it, and feel like I must have it back before I go forward with it.
And THIS makes sense to me!!
Writing can be so intense...
Shuram wrote:Either way, it became a game for us to write stupid, funny stories, each trying to one-up the previous.
And I loved hearing this story of you and your friend from back then.
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Post by Sorus »

I'm getting really curious about what she's expecting to see in the mirror.

Oh, a change is coming, feel these doors now closing
Is there no world for tomorrow, if we wait for today?


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Linna Heartbooger
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Post by Linna Heartbooger »

As I breezed past the mirror on my way down the corridor, something caught my eye.
The maintenance closet was open a crack, and with a broom sticking out.
Oh, Jose...
I pretended to ignore it, since I didn't get paid for straightening up other people's messes and continued on to where I'd left the patient.
You can imagine my surprise when I walked in and found the room empty.
Nope, not good.
I rushed out the door, and looked up and down the corridor.
Rushed to the next nexus to look left and right.
Crazy lady.
This was exactly the moment when I was supposed to alert the rest of the staff, but I hesitated.
(3 mins)
Sorus wrote:I'm getting really curious about what she's expecting to see in the mirror.
Ahhh! It's like you have a sixth sense about these things.
I'd actually forgot that something was going to be in the mirror at all, but then I remembered yes, there would be something in the mirror.
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Sorus
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Post by Sorus »

I keep Word files of snips & ideas, using whatever the current date is as the file name. Was looking for some inspiration last night, and was surprised to see a file dated tomorrow. It was actually several months old, and weird because it's not the sort of mistake I make very often, and certainly not something that would go unnoticed for that long. Was really hoping it was a message to myself from the future, but it was something I remembered writing, and not helpful in any context. Oh well.

Oh, a change is coming, feel these doors now closing
Is there no world for tomorrow, if we wait for today?


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Linna Heartbooger
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Post by Linna Heartbooger »

Oooh. Intriguing.

I looked over at the wilting flowers in a fine small vase on that neat little table Grandma keeps in her room.
And then I looked at her hands. Pale translucent hands. When she clasped them around mine, I thought they looked like nothing so much as the wings of a white moth.
Or pale onion skins.
Or a frayed skeleton of a faded leaf: white-on-white tapestry.
"Now, sweetie, I have something I want to make sure you don't forget to think about."

[this vignette isn't part of any other story.]
"People without hope not only don't write novels, but what is more to the point, they don't read them.
They don't take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage.
The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience."
-Flannery O'Connor

"In spite of much that militates against quietness there are people who still read books. They are the people who keep me going."
-Elisabeth Elliot, Preface, "A Chance to Die: The Life and Legacy of Amy Carmichael"
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Shuram Gudatetris
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Post by Shuram Gudatetris »

She stood panting underneath the tree. Her lungs were burning fiercely, screaming at her, making her think she was dying. But she knew she couldn't stop. If she stopped, it would catch her, no doubt about it. She would rather run herself to death than be caught by those...tentacles, the menacing suckers.

She wiped the sweat from her eyes and peered up through the leaves, trying to catch a glimpse of it, wishing the damn things wasn't so quiet. The leaves were thick, though, and she could see nothing: a mixed blessing. On the one hand, she had no idea where it was, on the other hand, maybe it couldn't see her.

She wiped the sweat from her eyes again and looked around, trying to decide which way to go next. If she continued on in the same direction she had been going, the next cluster of trees were more than fifty yards away. If she wanted to stay under cover, she would have to backtrack, and backtracking, going back towards that ugly fucking monster, she couldn't even wrap her head around that.

But she was still breathing heavily, and the stench of her exertion rose off her in steamy waves. The ugly fucker may not be able to see her, but she couldn't shake the notion that the damn thing could still sense her....
Covenant is Linden Frankenstein's monster.

I maxed-out Tetris!
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Linna Heartbooger
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Post by Linna Heartbooger »

Shuram- the mood and atmosphere are so dramatic. (for the record, my mind conjured the trees that she was in as a jungle environment.)
The POV-character's terror is so visceral.

And thank you, Shuram! I love writing on this thread.

"From before" is in italics. Today's is after that.
As I breezed past the mirror on my way down the corridor, something caught my eye.
The maintenance closet was open a crack, and with a broom sticking out.
Oh, Jose...
I pretended to ignore it, since I didn't get paid for straightening up other people's messes and continued on to where I'd left the patient.
You can imagine my surprise when I walked in and found the room empty.
Nope, not good.
I rushed out the door, and looked up and down the corridor.
Rushed to the next nexus to look left and right.
Crazy lady.

This was exactly the moment when I was supposed to alert the rest of the staff, but I hesitated.

All the manuals stated very clearly that in a situation like this, we go to our nurses' station - or the nearest one to where we are in the building - and notify them "Lost Containment."
On the other hand, we all know that nobody in your unit wants you to do this.
Your supervisor and your manager will share in corrective action, and you REALLY don't want corrective action.
I've overheard stories of successful non-notified recoveries by now from my co-workers.
And I had something going for me that they didn't: this patient was OLD.
She used a cane, and that thing was not just for show - I'd seen her X-rays.
(today's = 3 minutes)

I'm nicknaming this story: "Granny Outwits the Beast."
I am gleeful about the little ole lady.
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Post by samrw3 »

Turam stood there in anticipation for the annual FootFall*. He stretched up and down in his sandals with a slight wind snapping at his face. He ached with bitterness inside. He was from a lengthy generation of well known Runners and with his father being Roran he knew much was to be expected.

"Hey Turam" the Head Officiator shouted. "Just because your father was Roran doesn't mean you can wind whistle" *

The other participants giggled or shouted insults.

Turam cursed himself for not paying attention.


About 4 minutes - gulp twice the limit :(


Backstory -this is a story that has been brewing in my mind for awhile. *FootFall is similar to our track and field events in my story *wind whistle is slang for not paying attention in this story
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Linna Heartbooger
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Post by Linna Heartbooger »

samrw3- I had a terrible time staying close to the time limit in the beginning!
I found that... it gets better!
FootFall makes sense... and yeah, wind-whistling can work.

------------------------

I opened a door and walked in, shutting it quietly behind me.
That broom closet trick had barely worked.
"Janice?" greeted a voice from the hospital bed, and an old man sat up.
"No, it's not Janice." I said.
"Well who is it?" he asked, shifting around a bit.
His eyes had a fog of haze, but then he smiled at me, as if placing me from somewhere.
"Mind if I catch my breath?" I asked.
"Oh, no, of course not." he said. "I-- I'm sorry. Janice died twenty years ago, I don't know why I keep saying her."
I looked and him very directly and said, "Well, she was important."
And the tears began to flow, "You know, we were married 40 years... forty years!"

(yep, mine was 4 minutes here... and I forgot she's supposed to lay her cane aside while she catches her breath.)
"People without hope not only don't write novels, but what is more to the point, they don't read them.
They don't take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage.
The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience."
-Flannery O'Connor

"In spite of much that militates against quietness there are people who still read books. They are the people who keep me going."
-Elisabeth Elliot, Preface, "A Chance to Die: The Life and Legacy of Amy Carmichael"
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Post by samrw3 »

Linna and all...interesting stories and I think this project is pretty fun :D

Turam noticed out of the corner of his eye Lilat approaching. Scoras, * he cursed to himself - not Lilat. Anyone but Lilat. Lilat stood directly in front of him with her piercing blue eyes as if he she could see through his soul. "Turam how are you doing? I have been meaning to talk to you. You know ever since, well....you know since you father died...". Turam snapped his response "Lilat, if this is some dumb ploy to make me lose focus..." Turam stopped his retort when he say the look of Lilat's face change to a mixture of pity and guilt. Damn Lilat she always found a way to get to him.

*Scoras is a large desolated area that the locals use as a common swear word.

Gulp, five minutes - but I just couldn't stop typing and editing myself :D
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Post by samrw3 »

Turam and Lilat just stood facing each other. Turam started to mumble "Look Lilat..."

Just then the muscular Turo shouldered Lilat to the side. Turo snorted "Hey you two heart swallowers, prepare to be out raced."

Turam cursed to himself...Scoras, Scoras, SCORAS! Now Turo? What was happening to his day? It was as if the universe decided to give him an ankle twist.

Ok only three minutes on that one :)
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Post by samrw3 »

The Head Officiator screeched "All in positions for the 4,000 pace run". Turam placed in himself in third position. The other runners quickly aligned to their positions. He noticed Lilat in first position to his far right. He was most worried about Lilat He knew he could out run Turo in the 4,000. He could hear the breathing of anticipation around him. His moment had come. He knew he had to run the race of his life.

About 4 minutes :)
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The Head Officiator placed his arm straight up in the air and glanced down the line. He finally threw his arm to his side and shouted "Race!"

Turam pushed every muscle in his body forward arms wheeling at his side. He glanced ahead long enough to see Turo had out sprinted everyone to the front runner. No one could outpace Turo in a short race. Turam was not worried, he knew Turo would soon lag. Turam did not sense Lilat move up on him yet. Good. He dared not look back just willed himself to lengthen his stride and still control his breathing.

Turam soon began to catch Turo. He knew he would. Turam saw Turo swearing at himself trying to gain more distance but his constant panic and careless looks were dragging his speed. Turam smiled, he knew soon he would have Turo out raced. Now he just had to maintain his concentration to out pace Lilat and any others that he could not sense now.

Almost four minutes :roll:
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Post by Skyweir »

Do we continue the previous persons story? Or make up what er within a 2 min timeframe?

It looks like you do your own thing ..


So was hobnobbing with the rich and famous elves today. It was so much fun. We entertained ourselves sipping tea and helping ourselves to elvish treats. It was so very delightful. I turned suddenly at the sound of a shrill scream! Every sense on my skin prickled with urgency. What could that have been?

We all arose at once ...

Times up .. bleh
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Post by Skyweir »

Wow .. that is challenging! I set my iPhone timer to alarm in 2mins .. and its a startling alarm at that!! :LOLS:

Nice work people .. you actually made stories ..
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Post by samrw3 »

I can't speak for other people who have written stories here but the story I am writing was bouncing around in my head for awhile. So in a way some of it was pre-written from a design perspective. To have no idea what to write then write something from air in two minutes - for me that would be extremely difficult,
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Sorus
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Post by Sorus »

Most of my stuff is at least semi-connected, and I usually have some idea of where I want it to go before I start the timer. Sometimes I end up with something viable, sometimes not.

Oh, a change is coming, feel these doors now closing
Is there no world for tomorrow, if we wait for today?


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