Welcome!

Well I am new to this wonderful site and thought I'd start off with a contest. As I am a huge fan of writing I have decided to do a writing contest as a way of welcoming myself to the community and saying thanks to those who have helped me out with info! I hope to see some of your lovely avi's faces here!

The prize isn't much really just a CI from your choice of this month - Take me to your leader or the crystal - or the surprise of waiting until next month and maybe missing out on getting one of this months for free!

Now you may be wondering how you can win and if there are other prizes to be won. So please read the rest of the info below to get the answer to your questions(I hope):


Rules:

1. Follow all mene rules - as I hope I am as well...
2. Be kind and helpful not rude and snotty.
3. I will be asking for help with the judging of everyone's work, but my opinion is the one that will make you a winner.
4. Please read the next section fully so you are not disqualified.;)


How to enter & the must haves:

How to enter:

Simply read all of this post and create a story with everything you need in it. It doesn't matter if this is your first or 5000 story! Nor does it matter if you write love, horror, angst, war, historic, futuristic, fanfiction, yoai, yuri or anything in between everyone has an equal chance at this contest!

DEADLINE: April 1st and prizes will be handed out by April 5th.

The must haves:

!!! You must write your own work.
!!! You must have between 1000 and 10000 words - if you go over that is fine if you are under by a *few* that is also alright.
!!! Your work must contain the following words: RED - DEVOURED - ANGRY - ANGEL - MOIST - FRUIT - CAT & SEVEN.
!!! You do not have to have a lot of character development, you can start in the middle or at the end. It is your own creative work and I just wish to enjoy reading it.



Prizes:

1st place: As stated at the beginning your pick of ONE(1) of this months IC's or ONE(1) of next months.

2nd place: 500gold

3rd place: 250gold



Other Info:

I would love if you post a few words saying you will be entering/trying to enter. This way I know that someone(s) are interested. i know the prizes aren't much but I think it is fun...:)

All photos from photobucket.:)

This looks really interesting. I'll keep this thread subscribed when a plot bunny hits. I'm a bit in a busy period right now with projects and assignments. xD

When is the deadline?

pfft *is in the middle of busy period and still have plot bunnies breeding like crazy*

*hands one to Iro in hopes it'll cause massive chaos*

:ninja:

Ooh, I could really use some inspiration to get writing. This looks like it just might be my ticket! I'll try to come up with something for you. :) The last time I entered a writing contest it ended up being one of my favorite things I've written, so I might just come up with something that's not too bad!

I'm so stupid for forgetting the deadline... Well, I will post it here and then go add it to the main part. :shock:

Deadline is April 1st. Winners will be posted and given their prize by April 5th.

Sorry, and glad to see so many interested!

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For my own fun here is my own little story using my own rules. Lol.

Just A Game

It was just a game, a stupid game. How did it lead to all of this? Angel sighed as she wiped her moist face and hugged her knees tighter to her body. Really... It had been just a game. Who knew that it would make him so angry. If she would have know she never would have started the silly immature game.

She jumped as she heard a noise in the distance. Her feet were to tired, her body ached from all the running she had done. She forced her tired body off the ground and once again she began to run. Having no idea where she was going, no idea what was going to happen to her. Her breath was coming in huffs. She had to rest. She made it to the large oak and took deep gasps of air.

The thoughts of the events that had lead to this ordeal floating through her mind as her body stood on edge ready to go at the slightest sound. It was hard for her to keep the images of the day away. All of this over fruit.

The seven friends had been warned mind you that they should never mess with the fruit. The fact that it was beautiful and forbidden had been pounded into their heads since birth really. The cat protected said fruit and to mess with it would mean your demise. Old tales to scare them they had thought. Old tales to teach them. Just old tales that were told to each child and then when that child grew to have children of their own they told them.

Angel snapped out of thought as she hear the shifting to her right, she ran to the left and didn't look back. She ran and ran. Her heart threatened to leave her behind as it beated in her chest faster than her legs moved her body. She could not keep running though. Not because of the sore body though. She was at a dead end. The cliff was now blocking any escape she might try to make, The rocks below would kill her if she jumped.

The creature was upon her, not very far from her still slightly in the shadows of her view. She involuntarily took a step back and hurried to balance herself before she fell to her death below. She looked around for a way out. She was dead any way she went. Death by the rocks and fall or she could be devoured by the creature. Life was full of choices. Angel wished she had never made the choice to devour the fruit of the creature who moved in on her. She took a deep breath. Her last breath was going to be a good one.

A twitch of the tail. A squint of the eyes and a pounce. Hardly any noise was made as the cat-like creature pounced on the girl. The girl who had dared to eat his fruit. Payment would be made, the others had paid with blood, limbs and their lives. He was full and though not by much he was less angry now then he had been. Maybe it had to do with the fact the girl had lasted so long at his little game of cat and mouse. He had been tricked once by her and that had not been an easy task. The smell of her fear had lead him back to her though. His eyes focused in on hers and he enjoyed the gasp she gave. Shocked to see something more human now pinning her down with the strength his demonic body had.

She gasped and laid in shock, it seemed she was not completely ready for death as she tried to free herself from his grasp.

"Were you not warned of the danger, the certain death that awaited you if you broke the rules?" He asked in a rough voice, a voice that had not been used in years and years.

She keep her eyes on his, to his mild surprise and nodded her head as she spoke. "I was."

Honesty? From a human wench... Strange. "Yet you decided to test the strengths on the Great Demon King?"

"It was just a game." She whispered as she let her eyes wonder to the side, looking at nothing now only awaiting her fate of death in the blood and gore of his teeth and claws.

"A game?" His face twisted as the cat like grin appeared on his lips. "You like to play games is that it?"

"Yes, just a game. I do enjoy games... I did not know this one would lead to all of this... I'm sorry."

"Your sorry?" He chuckled and revealed some of the pressure off of her. "I like to play games as well."

Angel looked up at the demons face and felt sick. She had witnessed a few of the games he had played with the friends she had once had. "I am sorry."

"I am sure you are. You ate my fruit though. Payment is due. Since we share so much in common I will let you choice what game we play." He stood and watched her to make sure she wouldn't run. "You can play jump off the cliff, kitty toy or..." He paused as she sat up slightly. "We can play servant."

"Servant?" Angel asked confused as to what he was talking about. The game seemed the less likely to include her been tore to bits and ate. Though with a little thought and imagination she was sure it might just be 10 times worse then any other fate he had mentioned.

"Oh, you think you might like that game?" He asked almost laughing at her.

"Could you explain the game and rules?" She asked choosing her words delicately.

"It's not a hard game. It's a long game. A slightly boring game. A game where I am not the only winner in a sense. A game where you swear your life to me as my servant and I let you keep your soul and body together until you reach your human age of death."

"I think I could learn all the rules and learn how to play that game." Angel said as she stood slowly and dusted herself off.

Hmm.. This seems quite interesting. I shall enter!
It will take a while for me to make a story including the words mentioned though. :XD

Awesome! The deadline is still awhile away, so have fun with it!!

oh! this looks like fun!

I hope it turns out to be!

I might enter. . .

While I am also in a bit of a busy period, I could attempt to use this as inspiration. my own has been flagging something fierce as of late. At any rate, I shall see what I can do in between writing papers and stories for classes.

A few days left to enter...

I don't think I can make it to the deadline. I would be really busy these few days. I'll try and see if I can come up with something fast, but no guarantees because I can't come up with a story quick. >_<

A couple of weeks ago I made a mental note to try to write a piece for this. But I often lose my mental notes. They slide under the fridge or something.

Then a couple of days ago I discovered this again and went, "Oh yeah." :P

So here's my entry.

...

Red had seven things to do that day. Atop the list, of which there was no actual physical list, was to wash the breakfast dishes. Dad came home late after getting hammered the night before. Tallulah McCroy, one of the ladies in his knitting circle, was celebrating her ninety-fifth birthday. It was also the anniversary of the date her husband, Thomas, had died chocking on a porterhouse back in 1977. Much of the evening was spent sitting in the Black Angus parking lot, drinking wine coolers and sharing afghan patterns.

“Why would she spend the anniversary of his death at a steak house?” Mom inquired.

“Lulah never much cared for him.”

So Dad came home late. He stumbled in, smelling like peach candy and rubbing alcohol, and bolted the back door. It’s a wonder that Andy Lancaster didn’t pass them by, which would have been a terrible shame as today was Saturday. Huevos rancheros topped with Andy’s famous salsa verde. Formerly only known on a local level, Andy’s salsa verde was featured prominently on the Tonight Show the month previous. Andy said he sat in the green room while the salsa was on air and cried tears of joy.

Red trudged downstairs that morning, groggy, visions of swarthy sea captains and doe-eyed cabin boys retreating back into the dreamscape from whence they came, and saw Andy standing on the step.

“Gee, Mr. Lancaster. I’m sorry. I don’t know who locked the door.”

“Well, that’s okay. I’m not angry. But ten more minutes and I woulda climbed the Bowman’s fence and made them breakfast.”

The threat of moving on to the next house hadn’t cooled the fire with which Andy fixed the morning meal. Red sat, slack-jawed as always, watching Mr. Lancaster cook. It was a symphony of breakfast making. Eggs cracked, tomatoes chopped, jalepenos minced. Each action flowed into the other with perfect culinary precision. Senor Hernandez, Red’s Mandarin teacher, told the class once he had seen a vision of the Guadalupe while pearl diving off the Gulf of Mexico and had, at that moment, known pure peace and humility. Red imagined this felt exactly the same way. And as he sat and lustfully devoured the huevos rancheros; Andy, his cape flared, silently disappeared out the back door.

The dishes were washed, dried and stacked neatly on the rack. The downside of Andy’s salsa verde was that it stained the plates an odd florescent green, but Red considered this a more than acceptable consequence. One task down, he moved to the next item on the list, of which, as said, there was no actual list.

Red found Mr. Kreeper, right as clockwork, by the sliding glass door, sitting like a furry Buddha. He casually acknowledged Red with a low, baritone meow. Mr. Kreeper, the family cat, had to be let out before ten. This was so he could do his doings in the side yard. He had a litter box in the laundry room, but Mom said that Mr. Kreeper’s midmorning business smelled like someone cracked open the gates of hell. Red and his family wonder occasionally, during black outs or long car trips, what the cat eats in the course of the night to make his morning leavings stink so bad. Thankfully, the subject is never pondered too deeply. The Hamiltons, Red’s old next door neighbors, used to complain that the smell wafted over into their yard, but then one day they disappeared.

“Ready to go outside, Mr. Kreeper?”

“Meow.” His eyes narrowed, as if to say ‘Let’s do this’.

It was at this point that Red began to wish that he did have a list, a real list. For the mind tends to wander. He fantasized that it would be written on something upscale, like parchment. Or vellum! Nothing screams class like vellum. He also wished those calligraphy classes hadn’t fallen through. About a year ago, in between the time Mom lost her job as a fruit vendor and then became a door-to-door glass blower, she dragged Red down to the community college to sign up for a calligraphy class. That was all filled up, unfortunately, so they took interpretive dance 101 instead. Their first homework assignment was to forgo speaking for twenty-four hours and communicate their words only through dance. That was all good until Mom’s hybrid was rear-ended by an ice cream truck on the way home and she had to explain the accident to the attending officer using jazz hands.

But I digress. Often. Red pushed the power mower out the garage and set about to cutting the grass. They used to have one of those snazzy riding mowers, the kind that lets you sit on your ass and drink lemonade while still doing what you had to do. One day though, while mowing the lawn, a low hanging branch from the pomegranate tree whacked Dad in the head and knocked him unconscious. He passed out, but the mower kept going. It veered out of the yard and into the road and down into town where they were having a Founder’s Day parade. Mirella Baxter, the mayor’s wife, was leading the parade when the lawn mower came up off Oak St. and rammed right into her. She wasn’t hurt, but it cut her parade outfit to ribbons and exposed the fact that Mirella was in truth a transgendered man. After that the city made them get rid of the power mower.

With the grass cut and only one lawn gnome tragedy, Red moved down the list. Here’s where an actual list would have come in handy, as Red spent a good ten minutes hiding gummi bears around the house before realizing that wasn’t one of his chores. His next job was to let Mr. Kreeper back into the house. Mr. Kreeper needed to be let in before two. He somehow instinctively knows this is the hour the Bowman’s spend praying in their living room, and if left out he’ll sit in the front window box and stare at them, menacingly. You wouldn’t think that was such a big deal, but two Augusts ago something in Mrs. Bowman’s brain snapped and she started screaming that Mr. Kreeper was the beast which carried the Whore of Babylon and began chasing him with her moist and delicious, blue ribbon awarded angel food cake. Why angel food? Well, it is the most sainted of cakes. Afterwards it was agreed perhaps the cat should be left in at that time.

“Back you go, Mr. Kreeper.”

“You can’t keep me in forever.” He meowed, like a kitty Barry White.

Red’s next chore was to solve the question of reality. What is reality if reality is subjective? If one man’s perception of reality lies counter to another, than whose idea of what is real is actually real? Nietzsche believed that reality was not a constant state of being, but an ever changing state of becoming. It is not built in the mind, but in the physical. So reality is not what a man perceives, but what a man does.

Red believed that Nietzsche was full of fiddle faddle. The obvious solution is that we are all in actuality unicorns, frolicking in the midday sun in some far away meadow, lost in a moment of delirious happiness. Problem solved.

Late afternoon arrived. The sun was setting, the sky streaked with gold, and Red had two tasks left on his list, of which… ad nauseum. As he set the garbage can in place by the curb, Red looked up the street and frowned. Here came Perseus Goldstein, his archrival. Perseus was rich and good looking and he loved reminding others of it. He was named for some relative of his who had slain a kraken back in the thirties or something. Red was so named cause during childbirth Mom pushed so hard she broke a blood vessel in her eye and that’s all she could see.

“How’s it hangin’, loser?” Perseus brought his bike to a stop. “Waiting for the garbage truck to pick you up?” He smirked.

“That’s funny.” Red said flatly. “By which I mean your face.”

“Ha! Yeah right. I’m so pretty, my face should be insured.”

“I wish I was insured, cause it’s scaring me to death.”

“Whatever.” Perseus rolled his eyes. “Like the new bike? My dad bought it for me. It was really expensive, like probably more than your dad could make in a year.”

“It’s adorable, princess. The rubber daisies on the basket are real pretty.”

“Psh!” He sneered. “Shows what you know. Chicks dig rubber daisies.” Perseus climbed back on his bike, “See ya around, loser.”, and rode off.

“Well yeah!” Red called out. “My dad may not make as much money as your dad does, but I also know he doesn’t service underage, Mexican boys in the basement like yours does!”

… Red turned. “Good evening, Mr. Bowman.” Mr. Bowman meekly waved back.

The day was done, night had fallen, and Red had successfully completed all his chores. Save for one. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom, switched on the desk lamp, pulled out the chair and sat. The last item on Red’s list, of which there was no real list… was to make a list. Taking a sheet of binder paper from his notebook, he brought the pen down onto the page and realized there was nothing to write. Red sighed. This happened every Saturday, which was a shame. Cause every week, at the end of the day, he really coulda used a list.

@ Captain Howdy : Oh, I laughed through like all of that. underage Mexican boys had to be the best part... Thank you for entering.

Winner : Captain Howdy
Prize of Choice: Makin Faces

thats sad, only one person enterd... if i had seen it sooner, i would have enterd! it liiked like fun!!

Aww, those required words totally threw me off. I might write something, since I really like writing, especially since it's finally summer. :3

Whoops, ignore me. Totally didn't look at the dates. xP

Is there a chance you'd do another one of these? I'm sad that I missed it, I was inspired by those required words the minute I saw them...and then I saw the deadline. :( Wish I had seen this, I would have entered!