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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 6, 2008 17:35:44 GMT -5
Aah... a witty newbie, then.
Well, your patience will be glad to hear that I have indeed considered you, and after much analyzing and a series of complicated tests, found you to be more than worthy. And you have amused me. Bonus points.
And so, your word prompt is: Can You Hear Me?
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 17:59:26 GMT -5
The first thing that could be noted was the pain. But it was a welcomed sensation, because it signalled that one still sustained life, and was innate in any creature. The second thought was that it felt as though her flesh was on fire, a fire so hot it caused her entire body to feel numb as if frozen. The world through her eyes was obscured to such a point it was useless to even try and make out the surroundings, losing any feeling as to what was up or down. Within her body, Evangaline felt as though her lungs were being compressed to the point of breaking, mouth open to either vainly attempt to drink in the air, tainted to a haphazard state of uselessness, or to let out a scream ever silent. She knew not how this fire had come to be nor why fate could have ordained such a horrid thing to happen in her life time. All her mind could focus on, weakening as painful second passed, was the flames dancing about vibrantly, as if taunting her with the life they had so recently obtained and the suffering they oppressed her with. Her skin was blemished, once a splendid natural pallid color, now blackened and seared. Oh, how fervently she wished for something to save her, to give her ease. The roof above had caved in, along with a wall or two, rendering her trapped within a domain she had once believed to be safe, now her prison of torture and death. Her last hours to consist of naught but this blasted inferno, and the obsidian sky above, a sliver of the moon to illuminate the land below with a multitude of stars dotting the sky, all which seemed to mock the mortal they viewed below.
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 18:00:08 GMT -5
(( Egads, that was short...BUT, I'm not done yet. I simply forgot to add a nice little 'continue'. ))
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 6, 2008 18:19:14 GMT -5
It wasn't too short, I thought. But.... I will wait for the rest, then?
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 18:25:11 GMT -5
Through her life, Evangaline had been taught to be religious, to pray, to do what was right, and the like. But in that moment, when her life, a thin string about to be cut, was something that seemed of no importance. After all, how could Deity allow this to be? To allow one of His own to fall into these hungry flames, ready to engulf her body and burn her alive...if she could last that long, that is. However, she could place no blame on a greater Being, for this was no doubt an act of humanity. Imperfect, sinful, and human. But this was no matter in which to test her faith, nor to even bother to bring it up. She huddled in a corner, a corner - though for how long?- still in tact, knees up to her chest and arms wrapped around them. So badly was her body's state that she could not afford to move from her position, lest what little functional skin left on her lanky frame moved the wrong way and no longer acted as a dike, allowing a bit more blood to give way. Lengthy sienna tresses were carelessly sprawled about, a fearful nature too strong to rationally worry that they might catch flame and far too easily burn up to her skull, which was already with the pain of a relentless pounding of a headache from lack of oxygen. It was a battle to live, any day, and this occasion just happened to be a war. And she was losing. The tile beneath her was growing warmer and warmer each moment, and she swayed with fatigue. Not much longer now, not much longer...and strangely, that came as a comfort. Her soul came to mind, and what might happen to her in the after life...and, of course, what might not. "Can you hear me...?" Evangaline asked, voice raspy and finding that as she spoke it felt like thorns were being torn up her throat, "Save me, if you can. I'm begging you-" She had to stop to cough, wincing audibly at the pain, "-save me..." She couldn't help but pray, couldn't help but feebly look to hope, even though not moments before she had wondered if Deity was even real, because of what was happening to her. But there was an answer to this prayer, merciful as ever. Moments after she slumped limply onto the floor, the flames she would feel never again brushing against her legs. She entered an eternal slumber, and was oddly greatful as she felt herself passing, for an eternity mortally dead within white darkness was far better than living a second longer in a world of orange, red, and yellow burning colors.
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 18:27:22 GMT -5
(( Oh no. If that's what you considered not at all to be too short, than by second post was far too long. Nyeh.
Well, I suppose you'll have other reasons to decline my audition, what with it making simply no sense at all. I can't write on the spot worth anything. Oh well, I believe I need to do a challenge prompt, yes? ))
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 18:30:01 GMT -5
(( The word d. i. k. e. is inappropriate? Mm, didn't know that. ...Oops, maybe I shouldn't be posting this. It's rather unneeded. My apologies. -silences self- ))
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 18:45:22 GMT -5
(( Oh, the tragedy of it all. I've just realized yet another mistake. This prompt was the one that was supposed to be in a first-person version. Darnitall. ))
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 6, 2008 18:46:33 GMT -5
It's alright. And no, it's not necessarily "inappropriate", I just haven't gotten around to the censored words yet. We're all adults, though. Alright, well done. It was supposed to be in first person POV, but I'm thinking you read the previous guidelines, not the recently updated ones. Which is fine-- our problem, not yours. So, do the challenge part in first person, alright?
That is, if I can think of one... I'm not sensing much on an opening here. So, you're going to have to have incredible adapting skills for what I'm about to pull.
-------- Challenge: The afterlife is a common misconception, or rather, it is misunderstood. It turns out to be a very large, entirely white... waiting room. Waiting for what, you ask? Well... that depends on the deceased.
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 19:06:25 GMT -5
The only thing that I could think of was how perfecty right it would be for this place to have music. But not just any music, that annoying, obnoxious elevator music that always gets stuck in your head and never seems to go away. Everything about the place was pure, insipid white, even the garb that I found myself in, and appeared to go on forever. A never ending, bleakly white place that gave me no sense of direction, the only thing notable being a podium with a diminutive man behind it, some stairs going up through the clouds that oddly hovered there, a a lever near the previously mentioned man. There was another person with me, debarring the man behind the podium, though when I turned to talk to her the man, let's call him Mr. Podium called her name, Samantha, I think. Words were exchanged, something about the date of death, a summary of her life, and then a stricken look came to the girl's face when Mr. Podium finished speaking. In an opaque movement, he reached for the level and pulled. Immedialy following, the ground- or cloud, whatever it was- beneath her disapeared and she fell through, screaming all the way until the hole closed. It was then that realized I had died, and was now in the afterlife. Mr. Podium looked to me. "Katerina." He summoned, and I quickly stood and ambled over. Like the previous girl, he reviewed my life, but a smile embellished his face as he came to an end. "Congradulations, my child, you're going to heaven!" With that statement, angels became tangible all around me, singing like no other...and it was also then that I awoke with a start as my dog licked my face, to find that it had only been a dream.
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 19:07:10 GMT -5
(( Hopefully that's good enough.
:x Yuck, I have to go soon. ))
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 19:08:04 GMT -5
(( and a lever* ))
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 19:09:53 GMT -5
(( Mr. Podium,*
So many silly little mistakes. The horror of it all. ))
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Post by dystopia on Feb 6, 2008 19:11:27 GMT -5
(( Congratulations* >> ))
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 6, 2008 19:19:24 GMT -5
For future reference, there is a very handy "modify" button that allows you to fix those mistakes without creating a bunch of asteriks, but over all, I thought it was quite good. And if I may make a tiny suggestion... break up the big blocks of prose into several paragraphs. It just makes it easier to read. Congratulations, you're approved!
P.S. I totes dig your icon. xD
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