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#1
Old 06-05-2012, 04:35 AM


art and banner by M i r o

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-13-2012 at 03:24 AM..

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#2
Old 06-05-2012, 11:33 PM

It's me again, your Camp Counselor. This time I'm presenting you guys with a challenge instead of just answering your questions. No summer camp is complete without the telling of stories around the campfire. So here is my challenge to all of you campers. I want you to share your most amazing, funny and scary stories with me. I'll be waiting to see how creative and original you guys can be.

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-15-2012 at 05:34 AM..

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#3
Old 06-05-2012, 11:34 PM

Rules & Guidelines

The Rules
:
  • All stories must be inside a "spoiler" bar. ([hide ]Your story here[/hide ])
  • All submissions must use the forms I have provided.
  • Your entry must be written for this contest. You may not "recycle" an old story.
  • You may not submit someone else's work. This is plagiarism and is strictly against Menewsha's rules and also against the law.
  • Your submission may not be longer than 2,000 words. (You can check your word count here)
  • Your entry must fit the category you are entering it into.
  • You may only submit one story per category.
  • You may only submit using your main account.
  • Please do not give critiques on other people's works unless they have asked for it. If you wish to post your story for feedback before officially submitting it, please do so in quote tags so that no one gets in trouble for spamming.
  • Entries are accepted until the end of the event.
  • Winners will be announced in the Community Discussion Forum after the end of the event. It will take a little time to judge this contest so please be patient. It will probably take me a week or two to judge the entries and post the winners.

The Guidelines:
  • Do your absolute best to write correctly. This means that you should use proper spelling, grammar, and punctuation. I will not ignore your entry if there is a misplaced comma, but a submission riddled with distracting errors is very unlikely to win.
  • Be creative. The more interesting your story is, the more likely it is to win. Cliched characters or storylines can get boring and are unlikely to win.
  • Your story needs to fit the category it's being entered into.
  • Let your creativity take completely and write the story you want to write - within the rules of the competition, of course. Please read the rules carefully and double check your story before submitting it. If you do make a small error (such as forgetting to use the form or the hide tags), I will give you a second chance so that you may fix it. In the case of plagiarism or attempting to recycle an old story of yours, I will not be as lenient and you will not receive a second chance.

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-23-2012 at 03:19 PM..

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#4
Old 06-05-2012, 11:36 PM

The Fabulous Prizes
One Time at Summer Camp...
First Place - Sash of Chaos, Chaos Armor & Scepter of Chaos
Second Place - Kistune & Caboodle & Fox Spirit
Third Place - Midnight Carnival & Mischief Maker


Campfire Tales
First Place - Scarf of Order, Order Armor & Scepter of Order
Second Place - FoWN 2011 Set & Sleepy Time
Third Place - Mad Monk, Valiant Knight Armor & Staff of Healing


Ghost Stories

First Place - Halloween 2007 Set & Halloween 2011 Set
Second Place - Cloak and Dagger, BRAINZZZ & Fright Night
Third Place - Tome of Nightmares & Dark Alchemist


Other Prizes
Best Spun Tale - 5000g
Most Creative - Summer Boardwalk Promenade Set
Funniest - April Fools 2008 Set
Creepiest - Halloween 2011 Set
Honorable Mentions - ???? Gold

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-13-2012 at 08:09 PM..

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#5
Old 06-05-2012, 11:38 PM

The Categories

One Time at Summer Camp...
This category is for those of you who want to either share a true story about when you went to a summer camp/went camping or just a story of what happened to your avatar while they attended this summer camp.

Campfire Tales
This is for stories that don't fit in the other two categories, but would be a story that someone might tale around the campfire.

Ghost Stories
What is a summer camp without telling ghost stories while around the fire? Not much of a camp if you ask me. So tell me your chilling tales and you just might win a prize.

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-13-2012 at 08:10 PM..

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#6
Old 06-05-2012, 11:39 PM


art by blueblackrose
This One Time at Summer Camp...

For this category of our writing contest you can share a true story or fictional one.
I want you guys to give me your best story about what has happened at a summer camp/while camping or what is going on at our camp. Your story can be funny, serious, or just plain weird. It doesn't matter as long as the story is about being at summer camp or camping.

Submission Form
HTML Code:
[B][SIZE="5"][COLOR="royalblue"]This one time at summer camp...[/COLOR][/SIZE][COLOR="royalblue"][/COLOR][/B][COLOR="royalblue"]
[COLOR="blue"][B]Username:[/B] [/COLOR]
[COLOR="blue"][B]My Story[/B][/COLOR]
[hide]Please put your story here[/hide][/COLOR]


Entries
maidenroseheart
ox3tyi
Arc Angel
WherededIGo
Arinia Dreamdancer
Ivvy

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-23-2012 at 06:53 PM..

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#7
Old 06-05-2012, 11:41 PM


Campfire Tales

Campfire tales are just that. A tale that would be shared around the campfire. It doesn't have to be scary or funny since there are other categories for those kinds of tales. Be creative and tell me a tale I'll never forget.

Submission Form
HTML Code:
[B][SIZE="5"][COLOR="Sienna"]I have a Campfire Story![/SIZE][/B]
[COLOR="orange"][B]Username:[/B] [/COLOR]
[COLOR="orange"][B]My Story[/B][/COLOR]
[hide]Please put your story here[/hide]
Entries
Arc Angel
LizzyCollinsDeArc
Ivvy
WherededIGo

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-23-2012 at 03:17 PM..

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#8
Old 06-10-2012, 04:59 PM


art by blueblackrose

Ghost Stories

Everyone loves to tell ghost stories around the campfire right? Well here is your chance to tell me a ghost story that I've never heard before. I want to let your imagination take flight and your creativity flow to spin me a tale that will make my skin crawl, chill me to the bone and make my blood run cold.

Submission Form
HTML Code:
[B][SIZE="5"][COLOR="Green"]My Story Will Chill Your Bones![/COLOR][/SIZE][COLOR="Green"][/COLOR][/B][COLOR="Green"]
[COLOR="green"][B]Username:[/B] [/COLOR]
[COLOR="green"][B]My Story[/B][/COLOR]
[hide]Please put your story here[/hide][/COLOR]


Entries
Tachigami
WherededIGo
Arinia Dreamdancer
Ivvy

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-23-2012 at 03:16 PM..

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#9
Old 06-15-2012, 05:36 AM

FAQs
This is where I will post any questions that are asked.

Question
Quote:
Originally Posted by The_Crow View Post
QUESTION! This is pretaining to "Your submission may not be someone else's work". That is a no brainer of course, butwhat about character's fandom. As my meds were taking me off to sleep last night I had an idea about my Camp Anawana characters and the Winchester Brothers from Supernatural brothers as kids and actually made I thought... given the two... a really cool mashup, going from humour to an actual ghost story. Would this be allowed? The story is my own, I'm just borrowing character archetypes basically "the preppy girl" "the sporty girl" "the class clown/jerk/con-artist" "the hippie girl" "the brain"... with two slightly more specific characters "Aw, why did Dad have to dump us AGAIN?!"
Answer:
I have given your question some thought and I don't see a problem with someone dong a fandom as long as they give credit to where they are borrowing the characters/character archtype/etc. at the bottom of their entry.


Question:
Quote:
Originally Posted by WherededIGo View Post
Lolol XD

Does the stories have to be prose? Or can they be poems :O
Answer:
At this point since there are very few entries I will accept poems as well.
That was a good question.

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-21-2012 at 10:57 PM..

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#10
Old 06-16-2012, 12:52 AM


i have a few stories i could tell.
i wish i had talent.
:sweat:
good luck, everyone!

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#11
Old 06-16-2012, 01:03 AM

Man I am the worst at writing stories. My mom says I'm too long winded.

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#12
Old 06-16-2012, 01:17 AM


lol, i like long-winded stories.

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#13
Old 06-16-2012, 05:42 AM

This one time at summer camp...
Username: maidenroseheart
My Story

SPOILERX

Once upon a time, all good stories start this way, there was a young girl. This girl looks a lot like me, though younger with shorter hair. She had a love for horses and a desire to have one as her special friend. One summer, she had the opportunity to work at a summer camp. Eager to have the job of her dreams, she applied as a wrangler. She was accepted and the day to arrive at the horse barn came. Walking inside eagerly, she was greeted by the head wrangler and given a choice. Two horses needed training and she could pick one. There was an Appaloosa with his stubborn head held high and his brown half sister skittishly hiding behind him.

It was a choice she was eager to make. She chose the brother and called him Jasper. Then began the training. The horses needed to be able to walk in line, at an even speed, keeping a good spacing between each other, and not eating the grass along the way. Campers were not eager to ride horses that wandered off eating or getting into a kicking match with their rider on them. This girl was happy to help show Jasper the way to being a good horse. However, Jasper had other plans. He was just as stubborn as she was. He would buck, walk backwards, brush close to trees, lay down and roll, or even plant all his feet and refuse to budge. She didn't want to admit that she had chosen more than she could handle, so just as stubbornly fought him all summer long. By the end of the summer, after surviving a cracked tailbone and more than her fair share of bruises, she knew Jasper was ready for campers to ride him the following summer.

However, she wasn't sure she was ready for another summer. Her own confidence had been shattered after the repeated flying lessons she received when he went on a bucking spree. She didn't want to be in pain. The bruises, stiff and sore muscles, and cracked tailbone had worn down her courage. It appeared that a fear was being planted that might one day overshadow and destroy the love she felt for horses and camp both.

The next summer, she arrived at camp with a little less enthusiasm. She worked with horses but has still not found that special horse to be her friend. Walking to the horse barn, she was greeted by the head wrangler and given Jasper's skittish sister to train. Her name was Peanut and she was so nervous that she would step away if another horse or human even glanced at her. Feeling concern for Peanut, she went to talk to her. Getting the tack out, she continued to talk while putting on the saddle and bridle. Finally, they went for a ride. In the woods, they came across a startled deer. As the deer jumped through the brush, Peanut leaped sideways away from the racket. She rather run away than wait to see what her rider thought.

Working with Peanut all summer, the girl slowly noticed something about Peanut. She couldn't see in most directions that other horses could. In fact, Peanut relied heavily on sound and smell to figure out what was going on around her. The girl quietly added simple word commands to the trail rides. She would say "up" or "down" before a hill. She would say "rock" or "log" before an obstacle. She kept the reins pulled taunt, but was gentle in directing with them so that she could literally micromanage Peanut's every step. Soon, without realizing it, the girl and Peanut were able to communicate simply upon contact in the saddle. Peanut's confidence grew even as the girl's grew. They could ride in thunderstorms with no fear or mishaps. They came to the aid of struggling campers on less than obedient horses. It was a good summer.

The following summer, she eagerly returned to summer camp. Peanut greeted her with enthusiasm and glowed with a joy only mothers can know. For she had a youngster on the way and was eager to be a mother. The girl was happy for Peanut and did her best to make sure Peanut had enough water on hot days. She kept the saddle loose between rides. She event ceased to use her heels when urging Peanut forward since a simple shift in the saddle indicated enough to Peanut to walk. Then one evening, the baby decided to come. What began with joy soon turned to concern. The baby wasn't drinking his mother's milk. Peanut tried to help, but being unable to see her baby, she wasn't sure how to help him drink. The girl in desperation carried the baby and sat underneath Peanut. Peanut stood stock still as the girl lifted the baby's face in an attempt to guide him towards his mother's milk. It was to no avail. After a few hours, the camp ranger came up with a bottle he had crafted. He milked Peanut and then gently but firmly forced the milk into the colt's weak mouth. The girl watched helplessly, but with hope, that the baby would gain his strength. By the following evening, he was dead.

Peanut and the girl stayed close to each other. Both felt a loss that couldn't be replaced or healed. The girl kept an eye on Peanut and felt some alarm when it seemed her eyesight had gotten worse. Over the course of the summer, they both moved on. The girl used Peanut as an example of never giving up despite not being the best or strongest during talks with campers. Peanut was the special friend to the girl that she desperately needed. Eventually camp ended and she no longer was able to go back. However, every now and then she would visit. In the fall's chill or winters snow Peanut would smell a familiar friend and feel a gentle caress on her cheek. Nickering a welcome, they would breathe in the other before returning to their lives. Memories kept strong in this way helped them both through life.

Then End.

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#14
Old 06-16-2012, 07:10 AM

Hopefully I don't exceed the word count. My document has a word count too, but I don't know how accurate it is....

Also, please tell me what you think! Coming up with something this short in a whim is... strange. But I did my best.


My Story Will Chill Your Bones!
Username: Tachigami
My Story

SPOILERX

My name is Andy. Er, well, was Andy. Now I’m just an old newspaper clipping yellowing with age in a Cold Case file somewhere. Not that it was always like that. I used to be a kid, a teenager, like anyone else. I don’t think you’d believe my story if you heard it, but what should I care anymore?

I always loved the outdoors. Loved as in I’d stay out past midnight, wandering the woods out back. My parents told me not to go too far, not past the bridge, which they assumed to have been built around fifty years before we moved there... I’d go to the ravine, and stare across to the other side. I’d heard campers went there, and stayed out of trouble or harm’s way. So I never really understood why my parents didn’t want me crossing the bridge. Of course, like all these stories start out, I did. How stupid of me to wait until evening to do it, but I was armed with a flashlight and backpack with a few energy bars and water bottles.

The bridge was... less than sturdy. It took a lot of energy just to stay upright along those fifty-year-old boards. They creaked and cracked, and one snapped under my weight, but I managed to get to the other side, and took off through the woods. It was like... freedom. Like I’d breached the walls of my prison and found everything I’d been missing out on.

They seemed to be the same trees. Nothing especially different about them. I just didn’t expect to run into someone else so late at night. When my flashlight caught the glow of a pair of eyes I had to stop, curiosity and a bit of fear fueling my first stupid decision. An old man. He carried a rake, with rusted metal teeth, and looked as if he’d just crawled from a grave. He just smiled at me, creepily. His teeth were yellow and some were missing, and one even had a dark hole in it. “Ought not be here.” He hissed, in a voice that was reminiscent of a very heavy smoker. “Bad place to come. At night, ‘n all. Don’t turn around.”

With that... threat... he disregarded his own advice and turned his back to me, crawling away through an especially dark area between a series of overgrown bushes. A blade of ice was sliding down my spine, making the hair stand up on my arms. Don’t turn around? Why not? Of course I did with this bit of advice what I had with my parents’ warnings, and turned, slowly, with gritted teeth. My heart leapt in my chest at---

---Nothing.

Nothing was there. I sighed in relief, blaming my nerves at the way I reacted at the creepy grave-robber type forest-man. I turned to continue on, and found the trees had... changed. They’d spread out, and within the trees, hanging from the limbs, giant cocoons. The thread looked to be made of fishing wire and rope, but didn’t hide the half-decayed and skeletal remains of humans within, falling apart. I gasped, not realizing where I was going when I stumbled back and ran into another tree, shuddering a lower limb that seemed to have impaled another unfortunate soul. Its skull was staring eyelessly at me, a permanent toothy smile forced through the light crowning of ivy and muscle and sinew.

I went forward, abandoning my poor backpack for its own destiny and tried to remember which way I’d come. But the place seemed... rearranged. I busted through what I assumed were the same bushes as that old man had gone through to leave the scene behind, taking off with my flashlight waving wildly in my hand, forcing the shadows to jump and plant a seed of paranoia in the back of my mind. I found it almost lucky that through the trees I could see fire, a small thing, with a few actually living shadows around it, sitting on coolers, their voices obvious.

“Hey!” My voice was oddly... muted, but there, as though it didn’t really have an echo, which was impossible. Nonetheless, it got the attention of the group around the fire. I saw them still, look around. “Hey, get outta here! There’s some crazy shi---”

I skidded to a stop just as I managed to get into seeing range. They looked... off. They weren’t dressed warmly, and it was pretty cool even around the fire. Their eyes actually glowed with the fire, something like a cat’s would do in a semi-lit area. Their arms and legs... too long and thin. And they were way too still. Though no one’s ever run at me from the dark of the woods before, I’d assume I’d react with confusion, questions, at least to stand and defend myself in case they were crazy. But nothing.

Then they stood.

It was immediate. One, it looked like a man, older than me, lunged forward and grabbed my jacket. I gasped, struggled back, ripping my arm away and flying past one of the girls, who leapt for me with a gurgling screech. At that point my lungs were burning with cold air and my jacket sleeve was wet, but I didn’t want to see what had been transferred from the shadowy figure to me. Bushes and weeds were being trampled behind me, and I didn’t dare look back. Until, of course, I reached some kind of cliff. It was a long way down, anyway, and I managed to skid to a halt just in time, grabbing onto the low branch of a dead tree to my left.

Panting, shivering, afraid, my thoughts raced. I was paralyzed for a moment. When I forced myself to look back, I was jerked to the side and thrown into the tree that had saved me, but before I could tell what was happening, I was pinned there by a pitchfork at my neck. The old man had returned with his rake traded off, and when he got close to me, I almost gagged at his rotting breath. “Told ‘ye not to look back.” He breathed.

My legs gave out. The pitchfork’s prongs caught me under the chin, but I knew what he was talking about. When I turned back to look at my home, the bridge I’d just come from, I should have just left. I should have left. I should have gone home.

The shadowy forms of my pursuers hung from the trees like hairless monkeys, screeching in laughter at me.



I don’t... remember much more than the pain of the pitchfork stabbing through my stomach. I’d been lifted that way, carried back to the clearing of human cocoons.

Now I can see all the others. All the others stupid enough not to take the advice of the dead man.
__________________
You can find me on Discord these days. If you know, or knew me, and wish to reach out, please do! But please talk to me first. I like to keep my friend's list small, with people who enjoy chatting.
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Last edited by Tachigami; 06-16-2012 at 07:36 AM..

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#15
Old 06-16-2012, 12:52 PM

Ooooh, I might just do this :D

hummy
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#16
Old 06-16-2012, 02:39 PM


good luck, everyone!

WherededIGo
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#17
Old 06-16-2012, 02:45 PM

*Just read Tachigami's story*

Ooh, that was brilliant!

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#18
Old 06-16-2012, 03:37 PM

Entries are up to date.

Last edited by Suzy Sunshine; 06-16-2012 at 03:39 PM..

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#19
Old 06-16-2012, 04:25 PM

Thank you Whereded! I was hoping it wasn't too bad for a sudden-death typing spree.

---------- Post added 06-16-2012 at 11:26 AM ----------

I don't even care if I win any contest or anything, I'm just glad to have been challenged that way.

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#20
Old 06-16-2012, 04:26 PM

Well it was good XD

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#21
Old 06-16-2012, 05:57 PM


they should be a lot of fun to read.

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#22
Old 06-17-2012, 06:46 AM

I can't come up with anything ;A;
-----
I wrote one!

My Story Will Chill Your Bones!
Username: WherededIGo
My Story

SPOILERX

In a town somewhere, there was a school. One particular child, with bags under his eyes, was picked on a lot by his school mates. They called him names, the most common one being “Zombie”. It didn’t help he lived near a grave yard.
One day when he was walking home from school, he noticed something odd in a lake nearby. There was a chest in the shape of a coffin floating in the lake. The lake also had a nick name. It was called the lake of the dead because it ran through the grave yard, and it gave of awful smells, and was a sickly green. Curious the boy picked it up and examined, washing of seaweed and mud. He opened it and took out the contents, which was a thick, yellow paged book. He shoved the book into his bag, and he went back on his way, not opening the book until he was locked in his room. It was full of scary stories, which made him shiver and question every bump he heard that night.
The next day when he went to school, he was met by some bullies. “Haha, look it’s zombie!” One of them called. “Tell us a scary story!” Another mocked. The boy smiled.
“Alright” he agreed, and he recited a story out of the book. It was a story of how a wife who had been rejected by her husband, and murdered him by a lake, and then killed herself, and if you were to stand near a lake at the stroke of midnight, you’d see her, and if she saw you, she would confuse you for her husband and pull you into the depths of the water to your death. At the end of the story, the bullies were laughing, ridiculing it, and the boy just smiled, and continued on with his day.
One of the bullies, who had heard the story, had been caught with so many things, that they had not been able to return home until late. Unfortunately he was passing a river, and his clocked beeped midnight. He nervously looked toward the river, and he saw a ghostly figure, singing a tune to herself in a torn dress, with a knife in her hand. Without making a sound he ran straight past, and she didn’t see him.
He reported the incident to his friends at school the next day, and they demanded another story from the boy with the bags under his eyes. He smiled triumphantly (one would notice the bags under his eyes had gotten darker and bigger), and recited another story he’d read the previous night. This one though was about a woman who was so pretty, that all the other woman were jealous of her. Late at night when she was sewing, a group of ladies barged in with various weapons. The pretty lady did not put up a fight, and she was thrown into a mirror, which shattered and killed her. The pretty lady’s soul, which was hungry for revenge trapped herself into mirrors, and as each of her attackers examined themselves in the mirror, seeing how beautiful they were, she strangled them. The boy concluded the story by saying if you were a female who recently attacked another female severely because of looks, when you look into the mirror, seeing how beautiful you were, a pair of hands would come out of the mirror and strangle you.
One of the female bullies was having a sleep over with another one of the female bullies, and they were joking about cosmetics, when one of them turned violent and slapped the other because she was jealous. They joked it off, but when the attacker looked in the mirror the next morning, a pair of ghostly hands came out, and latched themselves onto the girl’s throat. The friend pulled the mirror away and smashed it, which made the hands vanish, which left the other girl gasping desperately for her breath. When they got to school that day they told the rest of the bullies, and like the other day they demanded another story from the boy with bags under his eyes (which have now grown extremely big, and where extremely dark). He smiled again, stating simply that this would be the last story he told to them. They agreed, and he recited one last story out of his book. This one was about a bunch of campers who kicked one of their fellow campers out of the campsite, and left him to die in the wild. When the campers came back to the site at a later date, a mist covered the area, and the campers swore they heard laughing coming from every direction. Then their tent was cut down, and they were all killed, the last thing they remembered were two red lights receding into the darkness, and the figure of the camper they left behind. The boy didn’t add anything else to the conclusion of his story, and he kindly asked for the bullies to leave him alone, still smiling. The bullies nodded and went off.
For days nothing happened to the bullies’ surprise, and they forgot about the last story, telling themselves that the previous occurrences had just been hallucinations.
A week later they all decided to go camping, and for the sake of getting more scary stories, they asked the boy with bags under his eyes to go. They decided to go camping in the woods, near a lake. They all set up, and soon a mist started to form, they all thought it was because of the lake. They continued on with their camp and the mist got thicker and thicker, it almost became choking. They were huddled in their tent when they recalled the final story. At that moment they heard laughing, but the boy with the bags under his eyes was missing, so they thought he was just playing a prank. Suddenly a scythe cut through the tent, bringing it down, they all screamed. They looked around and they couldn’t see anything.
“I told you it would be your final story” An eerie voice cackled, and the boy with the bags under his eyes appeared, except it wasn’t quite him. His eyes had turned black except for 2 red pupils, and his skin had turned a sickly colour. In one hand he held a scythe, and in another he held the book he had found not so long ago. The bullies were so scared they couldn’t scream, and he cut them down silently. The last thing they saw before they left the world of the living, was two red lights, receding into the darkness.
"Time to add more stories!" A powdery voice wheezed, and the boy looked at his book.
"Of course! Let's find them!" He agreed, smiling like a lunatic, as he disappeared into the fog.
The boy with the bags under his eyes, was never seen again. How ever, when there is a horror story in the making, a being with glowing red eyes and a scythe, is always writing down what's happening in a dusty old, yellow paged book.
__________________
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Last edited by WherededIGo; 06-17-2012 at 03:03 PM..

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#23
Old 06-17-2012, 03:09 PM

QUESTION! This is pretaining to "Your submission may not be someone else's work". That is a no brainer of course, butwhat about character's fandom. As my meds were taking me off to sleep last night I had an idea about my Camp Anawana characters and the Winchester Brothers from Supernatural brothers as kids and actually made I thought... given the two... a really cool mashup, going from humour to an actual ghost story. Would this be allowed? The story is my own, I'm just borrowing character archetypes basically "the preppy girl" "the sporty girl" "the class clown/jerk/con-artist" "the hippie girl" "the brain"... with two slightly more specific characters "Aw, why did Dad have to dump us AGAIN?!"

Suzy Sunshine
URE NPC
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#24
Old 06-17-2012, 04:52 PM

Quote:
Originally Posted by The_Crow View Post
QUESTION! This is pretaining to "Your submission may not be someone else's work". That is a no brainer of course, butwhat about character's fandom. As my meds were taking me off to sleep last night I had an idea about my Camp Anawana characters and the Winchester Brothers from Supernatural brothers as kids and actually made I thought... given the two... a really cool mashup, going from humour to an actual ghost story. Would this be allowed? The story is my own, I'm just borrowing character archetypes basically "the preppy girl" "the sporty girl" "the class clown/jerk/con-artist" "the hippie girl" "the brain"... with two slightly more specific characters "Aw, why did Dad have to dump us AGAIN?!"
The_Crow:
I have given your question some thought and I don't see a problem with someone dong a fandom as long as they give credit to where they are borrowing the characters/character archtype/etc. at the bottom of their entry.

hummy
Little birdie ♥

Penpal
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#25
Old 06-17-2012, 07:40 PM


thank you, campie!

 



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