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Post by stuart alman on Mar 8, 2010 21:31:02 GMT
oh and i read the first bit when i agreed, i just hadn't read all the back and forth with yasha bits .
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Post by stokerino on Mar 8, 2010 21:35:25 GMT
Hahaha. "Stu votes for anyone he can trust not to include were-creatures." :-p
You could suggest something and if it's not awful we can go with it. It's more about not tying the story down to, say, were-dragons, than whether the content is any good or not. >_>
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Post by stuart alman on Mar 8, 2010 21:37:25 GMT
yes but if i (and to a lesser extent tim) start this story nine times out of ten we will end up with the traditional
one day stu and tim went on an adventure and for some reason tim kept on tolerating stu's incompetence
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Post by stokerino on Mar 8, 2010 21:39:02 GMT
Ahahaha, haha, ha.
Never. >_>
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Post by Emily on Mar 8, 2010 21:39:49 GMT
Don't forget the all important "then Emily showed up claiming to have magical powers and fluctuated between being a fangirl and throwing her shoes at people"
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Post by stuart alman on Mar 8, 2010 21:40:01 GMT
that would never happen ..... or that won't happen again?
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Post by Emily on Mar 8, 2010 21:41:52 GMT
like there werewolves and vampires... it's been done.
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Post by stokerino on Mar 8, 2010 21:42:10 GMT
Perhaps the solution here is to get an outside source for the kick-off. AKA "Ally, write something random!"
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Post by stuart alman on Mar 8, 2010 21:42:40 GMT
how are we writing this by the way the old dspring script style or continuous prose?
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Post by stokerino on Mar 8, 2010 21:44:05 GMT
Prose if you could.
You were the only one who ever wrote in script. :-p
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Post by Emily on Mar 8, 2010 21:48:34 GMT
(we could always let stu write his chapters in script, it'd be better than his ongoing project to murder the english language through misuse of punctuation)
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Post by stuart alman on Mar 8, 2010 21:48:38 GMT
As she stared through the night Cashille thought she saw the faint glimmer of a cats eyes flicker in the darkness. I wonder what a cat is doing all the way out here she thought as she tried to shuffle deeper into her coat, fighting against the ice cold wind which suddenly stormed through the woodland glade.
(merely a shrug at a beginning any major objections or follow ups?)
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Post by stokerino on Mar 8, 2010 21:50:27 GMT
Well, whatever he likes, then.
Yash is currently 500+ words into her story opening. >_<
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Post by stuart alman on Mar 8, 2010 21:54:48 GMT
one assumes yash has continued down the were-dragon path. So any thoughts on that intro? including yashas thoughts if she can pry her eyes away
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Post by Emily on Mar 8, 2010 21:59:58 GMT
well you already did a story about Cashille. i get the impression we are looking for something new. also, how does one think quietly? kind of a bizarre choice of adverb.
I say let yasha write the opening, hell if we all hate the were dragon we can always kill it off.
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Post by stokerino on Mar 8, 2010 22:00:27 GMT
Oh, that was an intro? I thought you were just proving you could write prose. >_>
I thought the name Cashille was familar but I couldn't quite place it. Maybe I did read something you wrote with it once, can't remember... I do agree with Em that it should be entirely new.
But in terms of general principle, that sort of thing isn't objectionable per se. Yash didn't see a problem with it either.
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Post by stuart alman on Mar 8, 2010 22:02:15 GMT
well at moment im just thinking out loud i can carry on if you want. How long is each stint intended to be. @em - yes i used the name before but this will be a different character i just needed a quick name and it was something that wasn't kari
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Post by stokerino on Mar 8, 2010 22:07:09 GMT
In early IBYKS they seemed to be about 800 words or less, but to be honest for the opener it can be as long or as short as is necessary to work.
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Post by stuart alman on Mar 8, 2010 22:10:21 GMT
well in that case i bounce the ball to you sir after this initial paragraph
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Yasha
Pirate
'I would not mind you in my head, if you were not so clearly mad.'
Posts: 77
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Post by Yasha on Mar 8, 2010 22:10:55 GMT
“You'd better not be looking”, Tavi screeched from behind the ridge outcrop. He'd been out by the gorge since first light trying to build up what little courage he could with little success thus far. Which was not helped when some time later Midge had given him the fright of his life by whistling right in his ear while he was concentrating. She knew how sensitive his hearing had been recently and insisted on taking every opportunity to taunt him. This from his supposed best friend. “Oh will you hurry it up you great boob. Why would I want to look at your pale pasty arse when I have such an interesting rock right here”. Outraged and hideously embarrassed he hissed under his breath. Nothing particularly flattering and mostly revolving around bloody girls and their bloody smart comments. It was all her fault to begin with. He looked down at the remains of his boxers and khaki pants and groaned. Great, perfect. Both had a great rent down the back, the boxers were unsalvageable having been rent in two. The khaki pants had at least split down the seam and might be saved. But there was no chance in hell he could wear these home. “Damn it”, he muttered low before yelling “Midge?” “Yeah” Even in that one word he could hear the laughter and mockery he was bound to get later. “Umm, have you got my sweater out there. I think I left it by the willow stump”. He heard her low chuckle and the shuffle of feet against dry rock and loose grit and she moved. Before even being asked she must have hefted the sweater into the air, because the next thing he heard was a low grunt and then he saw it falling in his direction. It landed just in front of the outcrop and with a surge of courage he darted out, pants held in front of him just in case Midge glanced over, and snatched up the jumper. Ducking back behind the rocks he tied his sweater about his waist first leaving most of it hanging over his rear then pulled on his trousers over the top so the jumper wouldn't flap in the wind. It was undignified and it looked ridiculous but at least his back side was covered enough for him to get back to camp. “Are you done yet, seriously. I'm starved” Cheeks flaming, Tavi strolled out trying for all his worth to be nonchalant about the situation. With just a glance in Midges direction he turned and struck out for camp not waiting to see if she followed. A chuckle and scuffing of feet later and she was strolling beside him with a skip in her step and a small curve to her lip showing her amusement. He knew she'd be the first to break the silence. “So. Does your brother know your coming out here on you tod? Actually forget I asked that, cos I know the answer. If he DID know he would have talked you out of it by now. Either that or smacked you up side the head for being such a prat. And you are you know. A pra..” “Yes. Fine. I'm a prat,” he interupted. “I don't know what I'm doing and more likely to get hurt then anything else for trying this unsupervised. But you know what? I don't care”. He quickened his stride and ruched on ahead, Midge hurrying to catch up with his longer legs. She didn't say anything else until they came into view of the camp site. Twelve long thin cabins stood making up three sides of a square with a clearing and a tall flag pole at their center. And leaning, arms folded, against that flag pole was his brother. His face a picture of grim disinterest. Even as their eyes met and he gave a brief nod before straightening and heading towards them. His new wife all but skipping at his heels. They were the oddest pair. Where Jeremy was stoic, grim and sarcastic Kira was cheerful to the point of distraction. Almost always bouncing in Jeremy's wake as if to counteract his negativity. They seemed happy together though. He'd never understood why. “Hey” Jeremy murmured low. “Hey back” Tavi returned as they came face to face.
............................
There you go. My intro. And look I didn't specify were dragon, just implied. See if you can explain the ripped pants another way. hee hee hee
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