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by Nazi Flower Power » Tue Nov 04, 2014 12:58 am
by Old Tyrannia » Tue Nov 04, 2014 9:15 am
Nazi Flower Power wrote:If anybody has last-minute entries, finish them up and post them. The exact deadline is 11:59PM pacific time Nov. 5.
by Unitaristic Regions » Tue Nov 04, 2014 10:31 am
by Laerod » Tue Nov 04, 2014 12:46 pm
by Conserative Morality » Tue Nov 04, 2014 4:05 pm
by Vancon » Tue Nov 04, 2014 4:18 pm
Mike the Progressive wrote:You know I don't say this often, but this guy... he gets it. Like everything. As in he gets life.
Krazakistan wrote:How have you not died after being exposed to that much shit on a monthly basis?
Rupudska wrote:I avoid NSG like one would avoid ISIS-occupied Syria.
Alimeria- wrote:I'll go to sleep when I want to, not when some cheese-eating surrender monkey tells me to.
Which just so happens to be within the next half-hour
Shyluz wrote:Van, Sci-fi Generallisimo
by Old Tyrannia » Tue Nov 04, 2014 4:38 pm
by Nerotysia » Tue Nov 04, 2014 6:58 pm
by Vancon » Tue Nov 04, 2014 7:06 pm
Mike the Progressive wrote:You know I don't say this often, but this guy... he gets it. Like everything. As in he gets life.
Krazakistan wrote:How have you not died after being exposed to that much shit on a monthly basis?
Rupudska wrote:I avoid NSG like one would avoid ISIS-occupied Syria.
Alimeria- wrote:I'll go to sleep when I want to, not when some cheese-eating surrender monkey tells me to.
Which just so happens to be within the next half-hour
Shyluz wrote:Van, Sci-fi Generallisimo
by Super-Llamaland » Tue Nov 04, 2014 9:18 pm
by Furry Alairia and Algeria » Tue Nov 04, 2014 9:46 pm
by Nazi Flower Power » Tue Nov 04, 2014 9:58 pm
Furry Alairia and Algeria wrote:All I have is a bloody work in progress.It was a cold morning in the school, 11:45 AM, and three minutes before lunch. I was in Language Arts room with at least 20 other people. The teacher, Ms. Lavena, was talking about our openings, and I was in a zombified state of sleep, lying on my hand holstered on my arm. The bell then rang, destroying my ears. I packed up my books and went to my locker, with my stomach growling horribly, with pains of hunger going through my body. I finally went to the lunchroom without saying a word. I then saw him. Solace had glistening yellow and white fur with a nice white spotted tail. I saw those headphones on his neck again, and I have no idea how he can stand those things on his neck about 90% of the time. I stared at him when he wasn’t looking, and accidentally bumped into him, making him drop his tray. The tray just didn’t just hit the floor. It crashed and smashed his lunch to pieces. Serves you well, I thought. You were staring at him again.
He stood still and looked down at me, and then at the food. I immediately felt a rush of heat run to my cheeks, making my cheeks warm red, and I could sense that he could see how embarrassed how I was to have crashed into him right in the middle of a room. Suddenly I got up and moved towards him. I wanted to help him. I wanted to help him, but my conscience was restraining me. I looked into his deep sea blue eyes, glistening into the sun for a few seconds, and then I called the fellow classmate, Ari, behind the counter. She grimaced and brought over a cloth to clean up the mess. I picked up the broken pieces, while he was staring at me, making me feel uncomfortable, and put the pieces back on the tray, my hand shaking as I gave him the pieces.
There was a sloppy stain on the front of his shirt. As he noticed the stain, he touched it, and his face flushed with embarrassment and a bright red color emerged from his cheeks.
“Thank you”, Solace said, still embarrassed.
I was too nervous to say anything. I shoved the tray back at Solace and went back to my table. Every second from that point, I could not stop thinking about that moment, and I could not stop the memories of his deep sea blue eyes.
“Why did he have to be so cute?” I kept saying to myself in an inaudible voice.
“How is it possible?” I only stared into his eyes for, five seconds, and I already realized that he was luring me with his eyes only.
It already got me drooling. Now I was on to my Azerbaijani/Armenian language class, with a teacher named Hellina. Hellina is really random with her students. She currently suffers from Bi-polar Disorder, as she is stressed immensely with not only her job, but also her ability to support her husband and her four kids, making her go completely mad on her students at completely random times. For all I know, I and Ari, Nimsy, Solace, and Maxxy were the banes to her existence, and that reason is shrouded in mystery.
Finally, at the end of Hellina’s tirade on the Nagorno-Karabakh Republic, the bell rang, and I finally left the school and walked down the gray path in my blue sweater with no hood, and a blue pair of jeans almost my everyday get up. I kept thinking about Nimsy’s blue eyes. I still could not take my mind off that moment in the lunch room. It started to rain a little, and my coat didn’t have a hood, which left my head exposed. I got a call from my mother from my cheap phone
“Hey mom, how are you,” I said calmly
‘Where are you my boy,” my mom said.
When I started to talk before some jerk with his car ran through a puddle of water and made me all wet. My phone started to short, so I threw it on the grass. My day was turned from an embarrassing one to a horrible one. Now I’m all soaked, and I’m all cold. The temperature was a horrible low of 52, and I’m already shivering.
Suddenly, I heard a noise of someone running over to me. I looked behind me, and it was Nimsy. He was calling my name out loud. I tried to silence him, but he wouldn’t stop saying my name. I closed my eyes in despair, until he basically tackled me to the ground on accident.
”Whoa, are you alright?” Nimsy said. I still had my eyes closed before I opened them.
He was holding my shoulders, and I started to blush and awkwardly smile at his face. It was a sight to behold to see the one I bumped into whose lunch I ruined, is holding me down by my shoulders. I opened my eyes while trying to struggle, and apparently got back into being hypnotized into his gaze of the sea. Why was he so cute? I kept repeating in my head. I still tried to struggle out of his grip before I heard a voice.
“Hey, Nimsy, get back here,” said Nimsy, a friend of Solace and mine.
Nimsy was a real joker, and he always loved to play pranks. He was blue and white and had a nice long tail. He was following up behind us with a light brown sweater and his usual red shirt. He apparently was walking with Solace back to Nimsy’s house. I put a face of warning before Nimsy lifted me, and put my glasses back on after the fell off when he tackled me. Solace didn’t want to be seen grasping me, so I gave him a look to go back. He was resilient, and he was totally oblivious to the situation. He lifted me back up and looked into my grassy green eyes. It was the first time he’s looked into my eyes.
“Hey Nimsy, how you been today?” asked another classmate, Maxxy. He was one of the listed Hellina’s Banes of existence. He had nice gray fur and a pair of blue eyes. He was nice in the fact that he had to be mean if he had to be. He calmly looked at me, then Solace, and then Nimsy. It had been forty minutes since I had left school, and it was still raining. Finally, Solace and Nimsy left, leaving just me and Maxxy. I and Maxxy started to walk down the sidewalk and talk
“Hey Maxxy, how’ve you been? You look really bad, and your fur is really messed up in the sense I wouldn’t even have.” I told him
“Ehh, I’ve been really stressed lately, with this Azerbaijani/Armenian teacher being such a biased woman against people from Armenia and the Nagorno Karabakh Republic, and her assigning us about over six hundred homework assignments in one week. Even the mate back at home wouldn’t ease up on me because he keeps saying that he needs me to do something, but I have no idea what he wants. I usually just leave before he starts to rant,” Maxxy said
“Looks like your mate from New Zealand wasn’t the right one for this little kitty ehh?” I joked around with him. He looked at me with a look of annoyance. We then saw Nimsy, Solace, and Ari come up to us, walking up towards us as they seemed to be hearing us. The fog was so dense that we couldn’t see two feet in front of us, but after Ari reached us first, the fog started to get less dense, and more lighter. That’s when we could see Solace and Nimsy running towards us. They stopped and walked and greeted us, again. I got caught at Nimsy’s blue eyed hold, controlling me by the neck.
“Hey you guys, how’ve you been?” Ari said with delight
“I’ve been doing well,” I said, before Maxxy could say,”Horrible.”
“Everyone here has a boyfriend or a girlfriend in the school except me, you, Nimsy, and Ari. It’s like the school has control over the students over who they want and who they don’t want. I mean, who couldn’t want Ari? She’s a rockin chick that anyone could get.” Solace said. Everyone looked at him, especially Ari, and Ari had the red cheeks that everyone gets whenever their embarrassed or shy. We all reached the park, where we really conversed.
“I hear your moving out of town next year Solace.” Nimsy said. With that moment, my whole heart just shut down. I kept repeating to myself, I will not cry, I will not cry, even though one of your greatest and only friends you’ve been with since the third grade is moving away. I didn’t cry, and I was lucky, because I always cry during this time, when someone kills the moment.
“I ain’t moving out of town, get it right you liar, but I think Hellina’s moving out of town. I guess the Banes of her existences were really banning her from existing from this town.” Solace said with happiness.
I really couldn’t comprehend how someone could be happy about the only Azerbaijani and Armenian speaking person in this town go away because of us. I closed my eyes and stared at him, and when I opened my eyes, I think we all know what happened. I couldn’t ever take my eyes of of his eyes, and his face. I better stop before I get into details. I closed my eyes and then looked at Maxxy, who was talking about his so called mate from New Zealand. He wanted to dump him to be honest, and get back with his old lover, Leonardo, a white and gray furry. I then looked at the entrance and saw Leonardo. I looked at him and looked at Maxxy
“Hey Maxxy, isn’t that Leonardo? He gray and white one?” I asked Maxxy Maxxy’s fur jumped as if he had a lot of fear going through his body all at once. I could see it building up in him. He was shaking with anxiety and nervousness. Leonardo sat down, and asked us what we were all doing here.
“Hey Leonardo,” We all said in unison. Except for Maxxy, whose fur was really jumping. He finally calmed down, and took a big sigh.
“How’ve you been Leonardo?” I said to Leonardo.
“Fine, I guess, my mate dumped me with a trip to Pennsylvania for a convention when he told me on the phone that we were done, and I kept asking if it was a joke, and he said no and I kept asking before he yelled at me,” Leonardo said, and we all perked our heads and looked at him with no expressions, even Maxxy. “I went to the airport for his flight to come back, and say a grayish furry come holding his hand.”
He then put his arm around Maxxy. Maxxy blushed with excitement, but we really didn’t react to the situation, mostly because we never noticed. Finally, night fell, and I was sitting with my friends, except Ari, she left because she had to shower, but she said she would be back. While my head was down, about to fall asleep, Solace tapped me on the neck with his yellow paw, but I barely noticed.
My eyes were half closed, though I still listened to him speak. Solace lifted my head up, and then made up a story on when Hellina was born, and how she got her attitude. Leonardo, Maxxy, Ari, and I listened in on the story. The plot was that she was born from a rich Kazakhstani and Uzbekistani family who lived in an Azerbaijani city. During her life time, she grew as a writer, writing many short stories, producing 3 at most each day. She then met this great guy, and later, they went on to live in the U.S, in Waldwick, where she would teach Azerbaijani and Armenian language classes, as she was more fluent in Azerbaijani and Armenian as she grew up in the Nakhchivan Autonomous Republic near Armenia than she was in Uzbekistani and Kazakh, but later, her husband became a dead beat dad once they had kids. After Hellina had 4 kids, he became a lazy man, and never searched for a job. She then went under massive stress of having to manage 2 jobs, and barely saw her kids since she worked until midnight. She then succumbed to the stress, and was diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder after working for so long under so much stress. He ended the story after an hour he started.
Leonardo was falling asleep by now, and was lying on Maxxy’s shoulder. Maxxy was embarrassed, and the red blush was showing on his cheeks. Solace couldn’t bother to tell another story, but then looked at me, but with a devilish smile. I was kinda afraid what he would do, with the devilish smile. I looked at him confused, but for one of the first times, he talked to me with a good mood.
“Hey, umm, Graciano, how’ve you been?” He asked. For once I actually didn’t get hypnotized by his blue eyes.
“I’m good, life all normal, nothing extraordinary happening Solace,” I told him calmly, but inside me, my heart was going to explode by excessive beating if he says anything else.
“Well that’s good for you, but I’m a little bit stressed with Hellina’s repeated tirades and then assigning us homework on the Nagorno Karabakh Republic and what the war was about. Remember the 5 page assignment on Azerbaijani and Nagorno Karabakh culture? I swear, she can be such a racist to Armenians and Nagorno Karabakh people.” Solace stated. I closed my eyes, not really surprised to hear coming out of Solace’s mouth. He hated her as much as everyone hates communism, which you’d refer to Transnistria, where communism is the government.
We kept talking about how everyone hated Hellina, but the problem roots from her no good husband. He never looks for a job, excessively lavishes himself with Hellina’s paycheck, and leaves only 25% of the money for Hellina and the kids, and 10% is taken from taken from taxes, which makes her job and her life a big stress.
by Forsher » Tue Nov 04, 2014 11:21 pm
Nazi Flower Power wrote:You still have another 27 hours if you want to add to it or tinker with it.
by Nazi Flower Power » Wed Nov 05, 2014 12:16 am
Forsher wrote:Nazi Flower Power wrote:You still have another 27 hours if you want to add to it or tinker with it.
Mine definitely could do with some work, but I only cobbled it together because there are so many other entries (I was going to sit this one out for the aforementioned reason, but this particularly edition seems so much more alive than most of the others have been).The cities of the Boku desert were all the same. There were large stone walls, dry wells and names over the gates like Lukh or Rudj. These similarities came from similar conditions, history and continual exchange fostered by the typically desperate Boku traders and their camel caravans. To the residents of Lukh the traders would carry anything, morals aside. To the inhabitants of Rudj, the Bokul, as the traders were known, would sell anything, to anyone as long as doing so helped them. In jails and gaols across the desert the Bokul were the eternal hope of escape. This didn’t reflect any sympathies on the part of the Bokul but rather their convenient regularity and concealed faces. Few of the escapes succeeded for long, many slaves in Lukh began life as murderers in Rudj, for instance, but enough kept the hope alive. All this was known to Ghan, which is why three of the men that departed the great city of Haj with him were arriving in chains as they entered Lukh.
Lukh was the largest of the Boku’s cities, although it was dwarfed by the cities just beyond the reaches of the not-so-endless sands, and it never failed to impress Ghan. Even behind the walls the towers that spoke of great wealth were visible: beacons of hope for all Bokul. Much of the city was dirt poor, but Bokul didn’t care who paid them, as long as they still had money at the end of the day. A large reason for this was that life for Bokul was hard. The Boku was a harsh, unforgiving place and many caravans were simply swallowed up by fearsome storms or ran out of water crossing between cities. The lifestyle didn’t attract the amoral, it created them.
“Piss off.” Ghan kept a keen eye out for the vagrants of the cities he visited. There were two main reasons for this. Firstly, many of the vagrants were excellent or, at least, largely successful thieves. Secondly, if you could catch a vagrant, you could see a vagrant. The problem with Lukh was that its sheer size meant catching vagrants typically meant exposing the caravan to other vagrants: Ghan had learnt this lesson the hard way. So, instead of chasing down the retreating ragged cloaks of the pair he’d just spotted, Ghan satisfied himself with chucking a few desert stones at them.
“Shouldn’t we try and catch them?”
“You can try, and the rest of us will stay here and try to keep them from stealing the goods. We can lose a cabbage, but twenty cabbages is another matter.”
“Them, cousin?”
Ghan reached out an arm and held his cousin closely round the shoulder: it was both brotherly and menacing. “You see those shadows to our side, how they ripple and move? That’s not from torchlight.” Ghan’s cousin nodded. His eyes were wide as he peered down the warren like streets of houses. Here and there the shadows did ripple, and Ghan, for that was also the cousin’s name, grew just a little paler. “But don’t worry, the family shed is just around the corner.”
Night fell and day rose before Ghan’s caravan did anything more than get inventoried and stored. None of the party had a decent sleep. In part this was because a guard was needed, ramshackle sheds aren’t known for their security, but mostly it was because the buildings walls were close, the ceiling low and the caravan large. In short, the shed was just good enough to keep most of the stock safe. For this reason, the very first activity was another stock-take, the first interesting activity was the arrival of Yurd, a distant uncle of the elder Ghan and a barely established Lukhian merchant.
“Nephew, it shames me to see you counting cabbages when it’s nearly noon.” This was a lie, nothing about Yurd or his family would suggest that Ghan would be doing anything else in the late morning. “We must get this lot to market.”
Ghan looked down at his small, wiry uncle with a confusion that looked quite out of place for an experienced, unscrupulous Bokul. “We have just as many cabbages as when we left Rudj. And they’re definitely ours.” A large, sand-scarred hand reached down and chucked a none-too-appetising cabbage at its uncle: cabbages aren’t ideal goods for desert transportation.
“A good cabbage, nephew. Wipe that look off and come, we must sell this lot. You have avoided being robbed, this is good.” Yurd was a simple man with simple tastes: if it didn’t clink and couldn’t be spent, Yurd didn’t care. Ghan was more complex but his distant uncle’s persistence and emphasis on their relationship managed to drag Ghan, Ghan and the rest of the caravan to the market.
The market was not far from the shed but it was not close either. It consisted of a large square, surrounded by the mudbrick buildings and openings to warrens that typified Lukh. From its centre, it was theoretically possible to see all the towers of Lukh but the bustle of reality meant anyone who tried to do this would be run over or spun around so much that one tower would stand as twenty. By noon the place would be thriving, despite the heat, and towards the end of the day movement would be next to impossible. Logically this made no sense, but the desires of wealth and power for the best shopping time, the coolness of early morning, kept both common buyers and sellers out until at least noon. This was another lesson the older Ghan had learnt the hard way: his youth was a foolish one. Such a future did not loom on the horizon of the younger Ghan, who reached a thin, not yet sand-scarred arm up to tug on his cousin’s hood.
“Cousin, didn’t those thieves steal a cabbage?”
“No.”
“But you said…”
“I know. They took nothing.”
“But…”
“But nothing. Those thieves didn’t take anything we were planning to sell.” And there it was, the moment where everything clicked. Ghan wasn’t stupid, not in the way Yurd was. He wasn’t naiive either, like the source of the prompting questions. Ghan was something else, although clever didn’t quite fit: Ghan was a man who thought slaves were more profitable than cheap labour, after all. “Uncle! Sell this lot, teach Ghan to resist haggling; I have to go back to the shed.”
Ghan wasn’t fleet of foot so he didn’t run back. He wasn’t in a hurry either: he was big, he was scarred and he looked like a Bokul so fear didn’t lend him speed. He was also a liar. The shed was empty, they’d taken everything. Ghan’s true destination was the city gate, the one all Bokul entered and left by. The thieves were there, he’d seen them too late to keep them off his camel-drawn cart, so they’d taken something. The life of a vagrant in Lukh was tough. Rain wasn’t an issue but it did get cold at night. Guards operated on a stab first, capture later policy and traders made snap judgements all the time. If you looked like a slave, no-one would sell to you… not without a master’s presence. And almost all vagrants looked like slaves. As a consequence, if a Lukhian vagrant got close to a cart, they’d take something. This was a fact of life.
“You, tell me, did you see a couple of Bokul without a caravan pass through here? Today or last night?”
“Er, no?”
“Good, there’s still time. You see this cloak? You see its dull grey colour? If you see some Bokul dressed like this, without a caravan, they’re not Bokul: they’re thieves.”
“Wait!” But, it was too late. Ghan was gone. As quickly as he’d arrived, got inside the guard’s personal space and asked questions before the guard had time to remember who he was, he’d left. The guard was left to ponder the questions alone: it was an exercise literally above his pay grade. Bokul were easy to identify: they all wore the same kind of cloak, strangely thick and hooded. It wasn’t ideal in a day time desert, but it did wonders at night and worked well if a Bokul wandered further afield. The guard had never noticed that different groups of Bokul wore different colours. If he had, he might have realised that Ghan was about to waste a week of his life. As it was, the guard ended up hitting the pub.
Lukh was, theoretically, not the ideal place to have a drink. Water was always in short supply and a lot of Bokul tended to drink what liquid stock they intended to sell themselves en route: money's no good if you're not alive to spend it. Still, for those who knew where it was, Lukh did have one anonymous little pub not far from the Bokul gate: The Escaped Slave. Most of its trade was in accommodation, but for guards who stood all day in searing heat, wearing heavy armour any drink the publican was selling was more than welcome. The guard had also discovered that the publican was a good conversationalist years previously, on asking why the pub had so many pictures of escaped slaves all over the place... it had never occurred to him that the place's name had anything to do with it. The publican had simultaneously discovered that the guard wasn't a good conversationalist, but business was usually slow.
“That happen to you often, then?” A couple of glasses clinked as the publican put a box of clean glasses up on a shelf.
“Nah. It’s all a bit strange. How often do you think about the colour of a Bokul’s cloak?”
“Never. As long as they sell me what I want, I don’t give a damn.”
“Exactly." The guard smiled in victory and absent-mindedly drained his glass. "Mind you, there was this other guy who came up to us. Turned out he had two of his slaves get loose and run off.”
The publican paused, “Yeah?”
“I told him to keep looking. We never let slaves out. You can see them a mile off, what with their ragged cloaks.” The guard looked down at his drink and noticed it was empty. “Hey, what’re you smiling for?”
“Nothin’. Another?”
by Laerod » Wed Nov 05, 2014 8:44 am
Nazi Flower Power wrote:Yeah, it does look like a bigger than usual crop of entries. For a while it seemed like these things were dying, so it's nice to see a revival of interest.
by Vancon » Wed Nov 05, 2014 9:18 am
Mike the Progressive wrote:You know I don't say this often, but this guy... he gets it. Like everything. As in he gets life.
Krazakistan wrote:How have you not died after being exposed to that much shit on a monthly basis?
Rupudska wrote:I avoid NSG like one would avoid ISIS-occupied Syria.
Alimeria- wrote:I'll go to sleep when I want to, not when some cheese-eating surrender monkey tells me to.
Which just so happens to be within the next half-hour
Shyluz wrote:Van, Sci-fi Generallisimo
by Nazi Flower Power » Wed Nov 05, 2014 1:26 pm
by Nazi Flower Power » Thu Nov 06, 2014 1:26 am
by Vancon » Thu Nov 06, 2014 1:28 am
Nazi Flower Power wrote:Entries are closed. Judges, the thread is yours.
Mike the Progressive wrote:You know I don't say this often, but this guy... he gets it. Like everything. As in he gets life.
Krazakistan wrote:How have you not died after being exposed to that much shit on a monthly basis?
Rupudska wrote:I avoid NSG like one would avoid ISIS-occupied Syria.
Alimeria- wrote:I'll go to sleep when I want to, not when some cheese-eating surrender monkey tells me to.
Which just so happens to be within the next half-hour
Shyluz wrote:Van, Sci-fi Generallisimo
by Nazi Flower Power » Thu Nov 06, 2014 1:54 am
Vancon wrote:Nazi Flower Power wrote:Entries are closed. Judges, the thread is yours.
HOw do you want us to do these? Do we want to share the winners at the end? Go through them, review them and then post 'em here?
What?
Also, expect some scores on the weekend from me. I should have little to no homework.
Hopefully.
by Norstal » Thu Nov 06, 2014 2:02 am
Vancon wrote:Nazi Flower Power wrote:Entries are closed. Judges, the thread is yours.
HOw do you want us to do these? Do we want to share the winners at the end? Go through them, review them and then post 'em here?
What?
Also, expect some scores on the weekend from me. I should have little to no homework.
Hopefully.
Toronto Sun wrote:Best poster ever. ★★★★★
New York Times wrote:No one can beat him in debates. 5/5.
IGN wrote:Literally the best game I've ever played. 10/10
NSG Public wrote:What a fucking douchebag.
by The Nation of Ceneria » Thu Nov 06, 2014 2:50 pm
Nazi Flower Power wrote:Vancon wrote:HOw do you want us to do these? Do we want to share the winners at the end? Go through them, review them and then post 'em here?
What?
Also, expect some scores on the weekend from me. I should have little to no homework.
Hopefully.
Score each entry and post the scores in the thread. The other judges do the same thing. The scores for each entry are averaged and the contestant with the highest average wins.
You don't have to post all your scores at the same time. It is up to you whether you post them one at a time, in batches, or all at once -- whatever is most convenient. The important thing is just that each contestant needs to get a score from each judge. It's nice if you include some brief comments with your scores to explain how you decided on that score. It's up to you how much detail you want to go into with the comments.
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by Furry Alairia and Algeria » Thu Nov 06, 2014 2:51 pm
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