Okay, If someone gives me an idea, I'll write an impromptu story for them, just like that. Just give me a word or two, or anything and lets see how creative we can be! (Oh, and somebody let me know if I'm on the wrong forum. I hate it when that happens to me, so if someone would be so kind as to let me know kindly, I'll take this some place else. Thank you!)
Long ago, when the Earth had more money, more land, and more importantly, more fish, it pretty much had more of everything. During this time, a man named Trinidad Arlor was a fisherman. Not that his name is of much importance. Trinidad fished everyday and each day, he caught ten thousand fish. Never mind how impossible that sounds. One day, Trinidad was on yet another fishing spree. He lived fish, ate fish, breathed fish, was fish, well, not quite. Heâµd fished everywhere. In lakes, brooks,, ponds, streams, rivers, even oceans. All the lakes and ponds heâµd fished dry. He was beginning also to quench the rivers and the like of all marine life. He casted his line in and waited. Beside him, he had laid out a net and stretched it across the brook. He really was overdoing it. " Hello. Whatâµs this?" an unfamiliar voice asked. Trinidad spun about. Standing behind him was a short, but very thin man. The man was wearing a red cloak, grey pants and a grey shirt. " Whoâµre You?" Trinidad asked rudely. " I am the king of Cranberry Brook. For a rustic fellow, youâµre not bad." " Rustic? Wha- wait. Whatâµs Cranberry Brook?" Trinidad scratched his head. " It;s here. This brook here. The one youâµre fishing in,ⶠthe king replied frowning. â³ Stop fishing." " Why?" " Iâµve heard how incontinent You are when it comes to fishing. youâµve caught many fish?" " Oh, yes, thousands! Why?" The king frowned more severely. " And what did You do with all that fish?" " Sold it, of course. Why You, youâµre so rude." " Youâµre going to fish us dry." Trinidad grinned and then began to laugh. The king chuckled softly and took out a small knife. He cut the net on that same side then, jumped across the brook and cut the net on that side. " What? Whyâµd You do that?!" Trinidad was furious. " To save the fish from You." " Whatever for?!" Trinidad rushed forward, lept across the brook and began to wrestle with the king. The king lost grip of his knife. They both groped for it. Trinidad eventually prevailed, got the knife and stabbed the king to death. Then, he fished the Earth dry from then on. Alternate ending: Trinidad rushed forward and lept across the brook. When he reached the other side, the king vanished, leaving behind his knife. Enraged, Trinidad did a dance. After that, he seized the knife and set off to find the King of Cranberry Brook. To this day, heâµs still searching. Hence the reason the Earth still has fish, though it may not be much, thanks to the King of Cranberry Brook.
Mountaineering I'll be the fist to tell You this, I know squat about mountain biking. I do know that You need a helmet, good gloves, and well, a bike, a mountain bike. I was invited to go mountain biking with a few friends some time ago. I bought a mountain bike, sporty gloves, and a top notch, top dollar helmet. Before we started out, our 'leader' checked everyone to make sure we were all fitted correctly. I was ashamed for my friends to think Iâµd never been, but, what could I have done other than to keep my mouth shut? They mentioned how new my bike looked and I casually remarked that it was kept very clean. I too noted how new their bikes also looked. Anyway, we started out. Our 'leader' told us not to go too fast, just to ride moderately. I was certain it wouldn't be too bad. Halfway up, the going began to get rough and tough. I was behind by a few yards or so. A violent knot had formed in my chest and my sides ached. I wanted to stop, but myself consciousness prevented me. We went on for a while longer, but we soon stopped, collectively attracted by the idea to take pictures. I didn't have a camera. Instead I tried to find a private spot where I could be sick. Just as I was creeping away, one of my friends called to me. He asked me what I was doing. I shrugged and swallowed the nausea. I turned back and said I was fine. Something in my expression, posture, or tone made my friends think twice. Suddenly, I found them all staring at me. " Are You okay?" the leader asked. " You look green." I nodded vigorously. " Are You sure? I think youâµre pushing yourself too hard." " Oh, no. Donâµt worry about that!" I laughed. " Sit down, You look faint now." he ordered. I sat down promptly. I felt the blood rushing to my head. I felt dizzy. " Have - why are You pushing yourself?" â³ To keep up, why else?" I asked, now annoyed. I took my gloves off and held my head in my hands. â³ If weâµre going too fast for You, say something.ⶠⳠIâµm sorry guys. I guess Iâµm out of shape. I've never gone biking like this before," I finally confessed. " What? You should have said something!" the leader laughed. " Weâµve never been before either. How come You didn't say anything?" " Thought Youâµd all laugh." Then, they all looked at me again. I felt embarrassed, doubly embarrassed, today, however, I can look back and laugh at how silly I was. Because, I realize I learned a valuable lesson, about mountain biking, about life.
' Twilight sipped her beverage slowly. There was no rush. No place to visit, no one to see, nothing to do. The great wheels that made the World turn had finally ground to a halt. This World is called Candela. Here, the Life Cycle refuses to continue. Both sides of the Candles, the Sword side and the Distaff side are weakened. One by one, the members of the latter side, the Distaffs began to die. The World had grown too harsh. The Swords lived up to the sudden change and did all they could to save others, but in the end, they failed. The Distaffs, were at the point of utter extinction. This is Twilight's World. She is special, not just that, extraordinary. she is the last Distaff alive, the only one of her kind, the last lady left. Hatred festers in Candela's heart of steel. it strives daily to kill Twilight. the Candle's know their situation is dire. they know that Twilight is their only hope of survival. they strive therefore to protect her from the ravaging clutches of the now cruel World. Twilight stared sadly out the window beside her. the World had changed. Life had changed, so much. Now, in the streets, fights broke out regularly, everywhere. Every store that ever existed was vandalized. More cities were destroyed, more people were killed, than ever before. always, the black curtain hung over them. All the roads ran with blood. There were so many dead and so much destruction that no one bothered to bury the dead or clean up the rubble. the Swords were loose, wild and free, naturally destructive. their hindrance removed, they resorted to their own violent methods of survival. Twilight sighed. How could she change such a forsaken World? How could she save such a doomed race? How could she turn that hostile planet into the welcoming one it used to be? Why did they have to lose all the Distaffs, save one? Why did it have to be her? Suddenly, the shop in which she sat erupted in a cacophony of shouts, banging and stomping. Several large men burst in and started on the timid shop keeper.' [To be continued]
" Give us a drink! And make it quick!" Twilight gasped and shrank in her seat, as if she were trying to hide from those wild men. They heard her and all eyes turned on her. " A Distaff!" one of the men exclaimed, his voice filled with the very thing that is called awe. Twilight rose quickly. One of the men grabbed her arm. She resisted but he stared her down. " Ever since our women began to disappear, we've begun to worry about our imminent extinction," one of the other men said with a hushed voice. " I've heard there's only one left. And You are it." Twilight stared at the man before her. He looked wild. He looked determined. His grip on her arm tightened. " My name is Rivel," he cocked his head. " You?" " Twilight," she replied, not daring to refuse her answer. " Twilight," he murmured. She was perfect, she was beautiful, he thought. And seeing that she was the only one, he resolved to own her. ⳠWhat are You thinking, Rivel?ⶠone of the men asked roughly. " She's mine," Rivel exclaimed, his grey eyes flashing like cold steel. Rivel was young, strong, and had good looks working for him. He had blond hair and grey eyes. He was slender, but stout. His thin fingers were surprisingly vice like. He still held Twilight firmly and was looking at her. She had long, black hair, blue eyes and a distant look. Suddenly, one of the other men strode forward and also seized Twilight. Surprised and somewhat irked, she flung her hands away from both of them. Confusion broke out and the men began to fight. Twilight stood firmly in a corner and watched. She watched as they shot at each other, slashed each other, gouged each other, beat each other, trampled each other, hurt each other. She felt resentful and didn't care should they all die in the effort. Besides, how could the World lose all its Swords? After all, they were the only ones left. Why did she have to save these animals, she thought. They do a good job of killing one another. Why should she add to the general chaos of Life? Why should she subject others to such a cruel World, when she had the power not to? The fighting soon ended and Twilight found herself staring into Rivel's grey eyes. He didn't grab her arm this time. He reached out to her and offered his hand. " Is that all?" she asked curiously. " You must save Candela from extinction. You're the only one who can. But, I am the one chosen to help You. What do You say?" Twilight took his hand. " Will You defeat all other jealous Swords?" " What for?" " That way, I have no choice but to choose You." Rivel pulled her close. " No. the choice should be and will be yours." Twilight sighed. Perhaps, she could do this. Perhaps she could bring joy and light back into the fading world. Perhaps, she could tame that wild overgrown country. Perhaps, what she hoped for was to be her reality. Perhaps. " I say yes. Let's rebuild this forsaken world. Let's restore all that was broken, renew all that's been worn.ⶠ" Yes. Let's do that." Twilight's hand closed around his hand. They walked into the ravaged World together, ready to face it, ready to mend it. But the power to do that rests with Twilight. She is the only one who can bring Life back. She is the only one who can restore a failing line. Candela would see the rebirth of light and the Life giving power. Twilight is powerful beyond reckoning. She is now called Dawnlight.
I will post Deathopper's story when I get a chance. I've been awesomely busy. I haven't even had time to sit down and dream up his story. That's why I split Nurvana's story, because I didn't have time to type it all up in one sitting. So, believe me, people, I won't let you down, I'm just very, very, very, very, busy.
These are really good, and the fact that you can come up with them in a short amount of time is absolutely phenominal. Much, much better than my shorts I think. Keep it up.
