Creativity Game

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Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Sun 24 Feb 2008 - 10:51

I'm busy, but I'll put something up (slacking for 2-3 minutes):p

The object of the game is to write a one-shot/short story fic with the given category. Depending on what is given, some things is a must to be avoided. Its something to test your creativity; Miyura Sensei do this weekly in English class Very Happy

Its a game to test your creativity and writing skills^^

Write a short story/one shot fic using these as a start:

-She heard footsteps coming from outside
-Until that day, it had rained hard...
-Maybe because she was...
-The gun explodes, sending...
-He stood still, unmoved, knowing...

Rules are:
1. Character must limit to 3 (no more, no less)
2. At least each character must be from its respective anime (varying--Crossovers, so to say)
3. The names of the character must NOT be mentioned; use only he, she, them, it, etc. (meaning, your description is what identify the character from which anime he/she come from)
4. No OC allowed (for now)
5. Most importantly, have fun! (do NOT use your previous fic; I'll be judging--winner will acquire wallpaper of their choice (character, what anime, etc. I'll look it up Very Happy))

I'll be posting another requirements each Sunday...probably. Have fun~! Very Happy

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by West Nile on Mon 25 Feb 2008 - 0:51

*raises his hand like a school boy*
Panzer IV wrote:

Write a short story/one shot fic using these as a start:

-She heard footsteps coming from outside
-Until that day, it had rained hard...
-Maybe because she was...
-The gun explodes, sending...
-He stood still, unmoved, knowing...


my sentences have to start with those words or do i just need to have all of them somewhere in my one-shot

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Mon 25 Feb 2008 - 2:18

Your sentences have to start with those words (only at the start)

For ex:

[She heard footsteps coming from outside] the dormitory.

The next paragraph, however, is free. You only have to use one of those (pick one) as starter.

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by West Nile on Mon 25 Feb 2008 - 3:11

Maybe it was because she was either insecure or just scared. What ever it is she had symptoms and so she went to look for a doctor.

"Doc, what's wrong with me? I've been feeling dizzy lately, and my room mate said that she could feel a fever on my forehead." said a rather concerned girl, as she takes her glasses off so that the doctor can examine her.

"This is bad... really bad. I am afraid you might be in danger!" said the doctor as he looks at the young cyborg with great interest.

"What? What is it? What's wrong with me?" said the girl, as she starts to get histerical.

"you have novellotosis!" said the doctor as he stands up raises his arms in the air to add drama.

"And what is that suppose to be?" the dark haired girl screamed as she has also left her seat.

"you touch another book again and you... shall die!!" the doctor said as he turned on a flashlight under his chin.

"What? and you found that out by just looking at me in a magnifying glass?" the girl retorted. She couldn't admit that she was about to be robbed of her most valuable hobby.

"The symptoms says it all. I am sorry by dear but it's too late, you can't hold a book again! Muh-m-muhahahaha!"

"Seriously, all that through a magnifying glass?" the girl continues to point out.

However, the doctor ignores her insight as he continues. "I am truly sorry, but there is no cure to your case. You may not be able to leave your dorm as well."

Now the girl imagines the rest of her life in bed, just like the fate that was brought upon her old friend who wasted away in the hospital, never to see her piano again, never to see her garden again.

"Nooooo!" she screams storming out of the clinic.

As soon as her screams fade away the doctor sighs to himself and flips a couple of switches. The lights in the clinic goes off and the lights in another room turns on. Behind the two way mirror, reveals a sniggering girl with blond hair tied into two long pony tails.

"Well? was that good enough?" the doctor said, with an obviously depressed tone.

"Thank you doctor." said the girl behind the mirror, through a microphone. "You have been a great help to my school paper. Now I want you to call in the next 'patient' and tell her that she can't touch her camera and diary ever again." she added.

"Are you sure this is actually something you need to do?" asked the doctor.

"My handler approved of it after some... persuasion."

"Very well then."

With that the doctor switched the lights back to its original state, picked his magnifying glass and flash light up and called in the next patient.

fin

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by emperor on Tue 26 Feb 2008 - 0:12

West Nile,you really good!!

Now I want you to call in the next 'patient' and tell her that she can't touch her camera and diary ever again." she added.

U DEAD,Doc!!!

Sissies

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Thu 28 Feb 2008 - 7:59

wow! That is excellent! Very Happy

Anyone else?

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by West Nile on Sat 8 Mar 2008 - 5:24

Panzer, put more rules! i want to make another fic

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Probit Return on Sat 8 Mar 2008 - 13:11

He stood still, unmoving, knowing it was his last moment on the face of god's green earth. The girl infront of him gave off an evil aura, and the wicked smile on her face didn't help anything. "It wasn't what it looked like," was all he could manage to choak out.

"You know that I'm the only one for you," she cooed brushing a lock of brunette hair out of her eyes. "I've already taken care of her. Now there is nothing keeping us from being together."

He gasped, tears welling up in his eyes. "No!" The woman he loved was dead, by the hands of the girl he was supposed to care for no less. And after all the effort it took to warm her up too.

"We can be together forever." The girl reached behind her and pulled out a small pistol, a SIG P239, the gun he had given her. She aimed the gun at his forehead and smiled. "Forever."

He saw his life flash before his eyes. All of the events that led to this point in life, the happy times with his brother and sister, the vacations in Sicily, his work with the Carabinieri, his disicion to take a job with the SWA, and finally, the moment that caused his downfall, the moment the girl discovered his secret love.

He gazed longingly into her eyes. They captivated him, made him weak in the knees. "I love you."

"I love you too." Her short hair glistened in the last remains of the suns rays.

He had succeeded. The one woman, the envy of every man in the agency's eyes, was his. He succeeded where many others had failed, his own brother included. He bent down slightly to kiss her.

How did she know? he thought bitterly as the girl leered at him. "I'm sorry."

Her smile pierced his heart and a bullet pierced his skull. "I'll be joining you soon."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Did you say "Nerd"?

Fission Mailed

"What do you mean 'What the hell is a Funyarinpa?' You mean... you don't know?"
"How the hell would I know?"
"How could you not know?! That's... that's practically blasphemous! Say you're sorry! Apologize to the Funyarinpa! Goodness, you are such a rude woman..."
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Nachtsider on Sat 8 Mar 2008 - 15:20

Amazing work, Probit - you ought to publish that thing on Fanfiction.net.

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Probit Return on Sun 9 Mar 2008 - 12:51

Huh, really? I thought it felt a bit rushed, but I just couldn't think of a way to make it look better in my eyes.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Did you say "Nerd"?

Fission Mailed

"What do you mean 'What the hell is a Funyarinpa?' You mean... you don't know?"
"How the hell would I know?"
"How could you not know?! That's... that's practically blasphemous! Say you're sorry! Apologize to the Funyarinpa! Goodness, you are such a rude woman..."
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Mon 10 Mar 2008 - 8:47

Alright! Since its a new week, here's another fic to write up. Lets see your creativity:

Write a short story of your choice, with the time setting:

-1700>below, The Roman Empire, the Renaissance, the French Revolution, etc.
-1800s, Victorian Era, Unification of Germany, etc.
-1900s, The 1st World War, The 2nd World War, The Cold War, The fall of USSR, etc.

Rules are:
1. Character must be from the Gunslinger Girl universe
2. Famous, well-known, figures of the century must be mentioned
3. Historical sites/events must present in the fic
4. Character limit up to 5 (historical figure included)
5. Involves the minimum ONE character death (either the girls, or the historical figure)

optional:
X. No OC allowed

...aaand...that's it this week!

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Probit Return on Tue 11 Mar 2008 - 11:34

Oh, I may actually have to give this one some thought (the last one was mostly just a bit of organized stream of conciousness). I'm thinking Battle of the Bulge right now, so you can look forward to that.

I may not get it out 'til this weekend since my job training has been sapping up all of my weekday time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Did you say "Nerd"?

Fission Mailed

"What do you mean 'What the hell is a Funyarinpa?' You mean... you don't know?"
"How the hell would I know?"
"How could you not know?! That's... that's practically blasphemous! Say you're sorry! Apologize to the Funyarinpa! Goodness, you are such a rude woman..."
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Nachtsider on Tue 11 Mar 2008 - 11:48

I'd like to see someone write a First World War fic according to Panzer's guidelines, involving Elsbeth Schragmuller.

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by emperor on Tue 11 Mar 2008 - 23:01

Probit,is that Jose/Etta or Elsa/Jose?

I'm confused.

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Tue 11 Mar 2008 - 23:58

So...how about a tale of the Crusades? Very Happy

---------

She was just a serving girl.

There were millions of them throughout Tyre, within the keep and without, and Conrad of Montferrat had never had reason to take notice of any of them-- a man of noble blood, son of William V, of the Lord of Acre, had no need to pay attention to such people.

Least of all on the night wherein he fulfilled his dear father's ambitions, paid for the pain they both had suffered at the will of the heathen Salah ad-Din. Tyre was no longer his sole dominion-- no. Now, at last, at long last, he would rule Jerusalem itself, and from it make the heathens pay. Let Salah ad-Din think their negotiations made them friends. Conrad knew differently.

Of course, there was also that fool Richard the Lionheart to deal with. How could he have been so careless, so foolish, killing all the hostages? Did he have no idea of their value? He wished he had taken Balian's advice on how to deal with that pompous English ass. Perhaps he still could-- though the avenue of Masyaf was closed now, there were bound to be other ways to end Richard's blustering, give him room to focus only on Jerusalem.

In any case, politics could wait--tonight had been a night for celebration! Even having left the Bishop's house without food, Conrad's walk down the colonnaded street of Al Mina had been in a celebratory mood.

He had not seen the girl, standing in attendance or prayer, outside the home of her master, shift her body and leap.


Conrad's guards died before he knew what was going on, to the flashing short-blade that appeared in her hand drawn swift and brutal across their necks, red lifeblood flowing down their necks...God's teeth! She was so fast!

He backed away, pulled his sword from the scabbard with a shaking hand--how could he strike? She was a child!-- just as she lunged, and steel ground on steel for a moment, then he pulled away, slashing again. His sword bit only into a long tail of golden hair, so incongruous with her russet skin. Indigo eyes glittered from the shadows as she dove at him again, and he felt the cold tongue bite his side.

With a cry, Montferrat stumbled backwards, turned, tried to run. His mind howled a thousand questions at him. How?! Why?! She was barely a child! He tried to form a howl for the guards, but his throat was dry, his voice wouldn't--

And then she was on him, stronger than a bull, and from her wrist came a blade that pierced through his neck, driving him to the ground as crimson life pooled into the cobblestones.

The pain was tremendous. He tried to move his lips, staring up into the wide, innocent face of his murderer...her blue eyes were so sad. She's seen death before, he realized.

"Wh...why...?" he managed, at last.

"So many reasons," she said, stroking his hair as she held him, her blade now gone. "I know you have tried to be a good man, and shown great honor, despite that you are an infidel...and I am sorry for what I must do.

"But we know of your plans, and that you will not be dissuaded of them. We have seen your determination.

"You would win back the Holy Land, for your Crusaders, in a way this English barbarian can never do. You would defeat Salah ad-Din. And in time, you would destroy even us. This, we cannot allow.

"You must never rule Jerusalem," she whispered. He wanted to protest, but...but he was so tired. Tan fingers moved over his eyes. Conrad had never felt so light, so free, before.

"Go in peace," the girl urged him, gently placing a small tab of cloth to his wound. And he did.


Triela al-Hafsa bint la-Ahan rose then, her white robes unstained by the heart's blood of her target, pulling her hood back over her head. Her Rafiq would not approve-- she'd been too careless, again, he'd tell Rashid, without regard to herself. Too close to being hurt. She gritted her teeth.

But I am a Hashashin. My life does not matter. Only the Order matters...why doesn't Victor understand that? Perhaps it's because he didn't begin as one of us...

She turned and walked away, towards the Bureau, their hideout, where her protector and Rafiq waited, doubtless already dressed in the surcoat of a Templar-- a relic from his former life.

Triela smiled sadly to herself...to have a former life. Sometimes the other girls, like Rico and Hanriyya, woke from nightmares sobbing, and she would go to comfort them, call on them to remember that the great Hassan-i-Sabah--peace be upon him--had freed them, as he had freed all the Hashashin. That they were Allah's own daughters now, and need fear nothing.

Yet...she could not remember a time when she was anything else.

No, her dreams were of a single woman's warm arms, and the tearful face of a man in a white mantle, sobbing into his hands...


"Triela?"

Victor von Hirscher knelt at her level, something in his eyes...caring? It felt more like judgement. She nodded.

"The mission is complete, Rafiq. I bring proof in his blood."

Hillshire sighed. "And all remains hidden?"

"Of course. The only Hashashin they will capture will be two merchants that like to trade great stories of their travels in the local tavern, and think to keep secrets from the wrong men." She looked at his hand-- it was bandaged. "You...are hurt, Rafiq...?"

A sudden and surprising anger came over the young girl. Who has harmed my knight?! They will pay!

"It's nothing," he muttered. "Someone who remembered me a little too well. He's been dealt with."

"Oh," she said, not knowing why that hurt a little...she shook her head and stepped into the dwelling, welcoming the click of the door behind her.

"Welcome back, sister!" came a cheerful voice from within, belonging to Hanriyya. The slight, almost frail brunette girl adjusted her throwing knives as she spoke. "Jabir has told me that we may stop at Damascus before we must ride to Masyaf. We'll have pomegranates!" She bounced up and down slightly.

Triela couldn't help but smile at her younger companion's eagerness. "Well, you will, at any rate, you've earned them. How many did you end, again?"

"Fifteen, counting the bandits." Hanriyya blushed. "Jabir said I was as swift as an eagle."

"Your Rafiq is so kind," Triela smiled. "You're very lucky..."

Hanriyya frowned, and looked about to say something before the aforementioned man entered the room, smiling and ruffling his ward's hair and giving a friendly nod to Triela.

"We have our caravan, dear ones. Are we ready?"

"Yes, Rafiq," the young Hashashin chorused, Hanriyya looking up adoringly at Jabir. Behind him, von Hirscher remained tight-lipped and expressionless. Triela felt her heart sink. Always so grim, so hard, so unreadable.

Never pleased, but never angry. Just...almost sad, she wanted to say. But why?

Allah help me, I don't understand you.

Hanriyya is Jabir's beloved younger sister. Rico is nothing but Jahan's sword. What is it, o Rafiq, you wish me to be...?


"Triela!" She blinked, found herself staring at an empty Bureau, and hurried out, leaping onto her white horse. The assassins kicked their heels almost as one, and made for the gates with a clatter of hooves...


As dawn broke over the city of Tyre, a king lay dead on the street he ruled over.

Two men were seized, tormented, but their babbled confessions gave nothing to anyone.

In the faraway city of Masyaf, a mountain citadel experiencing an odd peace in this time of paranoia and war, six young girls trained in the arts of death.

And thus, life in the Holy Land went on.

-fin-

-------

This was set against the backdrop of...the Fifth Crusade, I believe, and is based on the very real assassination of Conrad I of Jerusalem, who was king for but a few days, by the mysterious Hashashin, shadowy "holy killers" of the Ismaili sects.

According to history, they managed to catch and torture one of the assassins...but...perhaps it didn't occur quite the way historians think...
Wink

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Nachtsider on Wed 12 Mar 2008 - 0:48

Publish this gem. STAT.

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Wed 12 Mar 2008 - 3:13

Amazing! Character limit is up to 5 though

...uuh...I might miscount them... wait2...

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Wed 12 Mar 2008 - 15:26

I fear you did. XD; There's...Conrad, Triela, 'Etta, Hillshire, and Jose/Giuse of the Unrecognizable Arabic Name. Very Happy

Also, Publish? Why whatever do you mean good sir?

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by emperor on Thu 13 Mar 2008 - 0:30

Xenomorph Alpha wrote:So...how about a tale of the Crusades? Very Happy

---------

She was just a serving girl.

There were millions of them throughout Tyre, within the keep and without, and Conrad of Montferrat had never had reason to take notice of any of them-- a man of noble blood, son of William V, of the Lord of Acre, had no need to pay attention to such people.

Least of all on the night wherein he fulfilled his dear father's ambitions, paid for the pain they both had suffered at the will of the heathen Salah ad-Din. Tyre was no longer his sole dominion-- no. Now, at last, at long last, he would rule Jerusalem itself, and from it make the heathens pay. Let Salah ad-Din think their negotiations made them friends. Conrad knew differently.

Of course, there was also that fool Richard the Lionheart to deal with. How could he have been so careless, so foolish, killing all the hostages? Did he have no idea of their value? He wished he had taken Balian's advice on how to deal with that pompous English ass. Perhaps he still could-- though the avenue of Masyaf was closed now, there were bound to be other ways to end Richard's blustering, give him room to focus only on Jerusalem.

In any case, politics could wait--tonight had been a night for celebration! Even having left the Bishop's house without food, Conrad's walk down the colonnaded street of Al Mina had been in a celebratory mood.

He had not seen the girl, standing in attendance or prayer, outside the home of her master, shift her body and leap.


Conrad's guards died before he knew what was going on, to the flashing short-blade that appeared in her hand drawn swift and brutal across their necks, red lifeblood flowing down their necks...God's teeth! She was so fast!

He backed away, pulled his sword from the scabbard with a shaking hand--how could he strike? She was a child!-- just as she lunged, and steel ground on steel for a moment, then he pulled away, slashing again. His sword bit only into a long tail of golden hair, so incongruous with her russet skin. Indigo eyes glittered from the shadows as she dove at him again, and he felt the cold tongue bite his side.

With a cry, Montferrat stumbled backwards, turned, tried to run. His mind howled a thousand questions at him. How?! Why?! She was barely a child! He tried to form a howl for the guards, but his throat was dry, his voice wouldn't--

And then she was on him, stronger than a bull, and from her wrist came a blade that pierced through his neck, driving him to the ground as crimson life pooled into the cobblestones.

The pain was tremendous. He tried to move his lips, staring up into the wide, innocent face of his murderer...her blue eyes were so sad. She's seen death before, he realized.

"Wh...why...?" he managed, at last.

"So many reasons," she said, stroking his hair as she held him, her blade now gone. "I know you have tried to be a good man, and shown great honor, despite that you are an infidel...and I am sorry for what I must do.

"But we know of your plans, and that you will not be dissuaded of them. We have seen your determination.

"You would win back the Holy Land, for your Crusaders, in a way this English barbarian can never do. You would defeat Salah ad-Din. And in time, you would destroy even us. This, we cannot allow.

"You must never rule Jerusalem," she whispered. He wanted to protest, but...but he was so tired. Tan fingers moved over his eyes. Conrad had never felt so light, so free, before.

"Go in peace," the girl urged him, gently placing a small tab of cloth to his wound. And he did.


Triela al-Hafsa bint la-Ahan rose then, her white robes unstained by the heart's blood of her target, pulling her hood back over her head. Her Rafiq would not approve-- she'd been too careless, again, he'd tell Rashid, without regard to herself. Too close to being hurt. She gritted her teeth.

But I am a Hashashin. My life does not matter. Only the Order matters...why doesn't Victor understand that? Perhaps it's because he didn't begin as one of us...

She turned and walked away, towards the Bureau, their hideout, where her protector and Rafiq waited, doubtless already dressed in the surcoat of a Templar-- a relic from his former life.

Triela smiled sadly to herself...to have a former life. Sometimes the other girls, like Rico and Hanriyya, woke from nightmares sobbing, and she would go to comfort them, call on them to remember that the great Hassan-i-Sabah--peace be upon him--had freed them, as he had freed all the Hashashin. That they were Allah's own daughters now, and need fear nothing.

Yet...she could not remember a time when she was anything else.

No, her dreams were of a single woman's warm arms, and the tearful face of a man in a white mantle, sobbing into his hands...


"Triela?"

Victor von Hirscher knelt at her level, something in his eyes...caring? It felt more like judgement. She nodded.

"The mission is complete, Rafiq. I bring proof in his blood."

Hillshire sighed. "And all remains hidden?"

"Of course. The only Hashashin they will capture will be two merchants that like to trade great stories of their travels in the local tavern, and think to keep secrets from the wrong men." She looked at his hand-- it was bandaged. "You...are hurt, Rafiq...?"

A sudden and surprising anger came over the young girl. Who has harmed my knight?! They will pay!

"It's nothing," he muttered. "Someone who remembered me a little too well. He's been dealt with."

"Oh," she said, not knowing why that hurt a little...she shook her head and stepped into the dwelling, welcoming the click of the door behind her.

"Welcome back, sister!" came a cheerful voice from within, belonging to Hanriyya. The slight, almost frail brunette girl adjusted her throwing knives as she spoke. "Jabir has told me that we may stop at Damascus before we must ride to Masyaf. We'll have pomegranates!" She bounced up and down slightly.

Triela couldn't help but smile at her younger companion's eagerness. "Well, you will, at any rate, you've earned them. How many did you end, again?"

"Fifteen, counting the bandits." Hanriyya blushed. "Jabir said I was as swift as an eagle."

"Your Rafiq is so kind," Triela smiled. "You're very lucky..."

Hanriyya frowned, and looked about to say something before the aforementioned man entered the room, smiling and ruffling his ward's hair and giving a friendly nod to Triela.

"We have our caravan, dear ones. Are we ready?"

"Yes, Rafiq," the young Hashashin chorused, Hanriyya looking up adoringly at Jabir. Behind him, von Hirscher remained tight-lipped and expressionless. Triela felt her heart sink. Always so grim, so hard, so unreadable.

Never pleased, but never angry. Just...almost sad, she wanted to say. But why?

Allah help me, I don't understand you.

Hanriyya is Jabir's beloved younger sister. Rico is nothing but Jahan's sword. What is it, o Rafiq, you wish me to be...?


"Triela!" She blinked, found herself staring at an empty Bureau, and hurried out, leaping onto her white horse. The assassins kicked their heels almost as one, and made for the gates with a clatter of hooves...


As dawn broke over the city of Tyre, a king lay dead on the street he ruled over.

Two men were seized, tormented, but their babbled confessions gave nothing to anyone.

In the faraway city of Masyaf, a mountain citadel experiencing an odd peace in this time of paranoia and war, six young girls trained in the arts of death.

And thus, life in the Holy Land went on.

-fin-

-------

This was set against the backdrop of...the Fifth Crusade, I believe, and is based on the very real assassination of Conrad I of Jerusalem, who was king for but a few days, by the mysterious Hashashin, shadowy "holy killers" of the Ismaili sects.

According to history, they managed to catch and torture one of the assassins...but...perhaps it didn't occur quite the way historians think...
Wink

Perfect marvelous!!!!!!!!!!!!
The girl has been forged into a blade in the crowd.
However, she is still an adolescent child...
Daughters of Allah
by the Xenomorph Alpha


Add this line will be great!!! Awesome!
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Danjo3 on Thu 13 Mar 2008 - 3:58

Xenomorph Alpha wrote:I fear you did. XD; There's...Conrad, Triela, 'Etta, Hillshire, and Jose/Giuse of the Unrecognizable Arabic Name. Very Happy

Also, Publish? Why whatever do you mean good sir?
Hell, I'm going to give ya another plug! :yaay:

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Probit Return on Thu 13 Mar 2008 - 11:32

emperor: "...brushing a lock of brunette hair out of her eyes." It's Etta, since, if I remember correctly, she's the only one with brunette hair. Plus, Elsa is a blonde.

Xenomorph: That was a great story. I loved how Triela's thoughts paralleled certain thoughts in the original.

To Everyone who wants to know: I've come up with an idea I think will be better. It's still part of WWII, but it will take place in Italy. Mussolini anyone?

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Nachtsider on Thu 13 Mar 2008 - 12:06

A Second World War story would be more interesting if it took place in multiple countries, with not all the girls necessarily being on the same side.

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by emperor on Fri 14 Mar 2008 - 2:50

To Everyone who wants to know: I've come up with an idea I think will be better. It's still part of WWII, but it will take place in Italy. Mussolini anyone?

Can't wait to read it!!!

High Five

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by West Nile on Fri 14 Mar 2008 - 4:08

a WWII scenario:

"Hilshire it's a dead end!"

"Can't we go through the wall?"

"We can't, but maybe we can go through the enemy."

"That's suicide!"

"We don't really have a choice do we?"

It was a rainy day when I was in the cemetery. Joze was in the car while I kneeled down to get a closer look at Triela's grave. She was burried right beside her Hilshire. How could they have died? They were the best.

"Giovanni Messe is here to see you Mr. Hartman." said a private as he entered a bunker.

Victor Hartman stood up to meet with quite possibly the most distinguished Italian Field Marshal of his day.

"Good afternoon Sir. how may I be of service?" Hilshire responded, followed by a salute.

"You and that girl of yours are the only ones that were sent here by Italia's SWA am i right?" Giovanni responded, skipping the greeting entirely.

"Why... yes sir. However, the Joze/ Henrietta fratello is just posted near by..."

"Good, I only need one Fratello for this mission." Giovanni rudely responds once more.

"Well, what is it that you want us to do here in Greece sir?" Hilshire responded before Giovanni can interupt him again.

"As you can see, the allies are beginning to show their presence here in Greece, and with their help, we will eventually lose the war. What i need you to do is simple." Giovanni said as he apporached a map of Greece on the wall.

Hilshire looked at the map as Giovanni's hand drifted to the area of the map where the Allies have taken over. There he sticks a pin into a certain spot.

"There, I need your Fratello to go there and disable their anti-aircraft capabilites using explosives. That way the Nazi airforce can come and wipe those allies off the face of the earth. If you do it on time, the bombing will allow you to escape with your lives."

It was June 8 1944 when we heard that Triela and Hilshire were missing in action. The Germans were never able to bomb the allies in Greece. It was 2 days past D-day, as the allies called it, and schedules were definitley changed. Without the needed support Triela and Hilshire were stuck in no man's land.

"Hilshire! where are the planes?"

"I don't know Triela... run!"

"What?"

"Run! we have been spotted."

A stuffed bear for Triela's grave and flowers for Hilshire's. It looks like Joze has come to get me. I guess I can leave these 2 behind... they died together... it's not like they're going to be lonely.

Beneath the smoke and the strewn bodies. The figure of a German crawls slowly towards a figure of a girl. The German is in military uniform but he does not bear a swastika, he wears the colors of Italy. He is badly wounded but he continues to crawl towards the girl who hasn't made a single move ever since he layed his eyes on her. He finally reaches her, he pulls her towards himself craddling her in his arms. She opens her eyes but only barely able to respond to him.

"Hilshire... did you get hurt?"

The man did not answer her. He placed a hand on her cheek and caressed it slowly.

"I am sorry Hilshire... but I am not going to make it. I failed y-"

Before the girl could continue, the German places a finger on her lips to silence her. He manages a sitting position on a wall and holds her close to him before whispering to her ear:

"It looks like we won't be making it back after all. For that I am sorry too."

Tears apear in the girls eyes as she presses her face into the man's uniform. The 2, stay in that position for the longest time before a fading voice says:

"Triela... I love you."

It will be replied by an even weaker voice:

"I love you too..."

Indeed they died side-by-side or that's how they were found. Joze approaches me with an umbrella in his hand. I jumped into his arms and burried my face on him to hide my tears. He places his arm around me as we go back in the car and leave this gloomy place.


Last edited by West Nile on Fri 14 Mar 2008 - 5:27; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by emperor on Fri 14 Mar 2008 - 4:34

Let me guess the man who told the reader of this story is Jean,right?

Not bad but something tell me it isn't complete yet.

Espectially this line
I love you too... dad."

Should told more that they were dead together and blabla....

5 from 10

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by West Nile on Fri 14 Mar 2008 - 4:43

Hilshire/ Triela point of view was narrated by a narrator

the one crying in Joze's arms was Henrietta... no Jean

wat part of they're already dead and buried, says less that they're dead

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Fri 14 Mar 2008 - 10:39

Good job^^

Keep it coming! A new week's coming, so I'll be posting another set of rules:

Better finish up ideas here before new one springs up.
Oh: Here's an idea


It was October 18, 1942.

The weather worsens, and the cold was unbearable. The food distributed by the Red Army fair no better on comforting the 17 year old girl in her small hive by the ruins of Stalingrad.

"Dammit Stalin...dammit all!" She curse silently "And that fat Zhukov! Stupid general..."

Junior Lieutenant Petrushka Ricci, a sniper. Conscripted by the Red Army during the early days of the Battle of Stalingrad, she witnessed the murderous fire and was baptized by fear as her boat nearly took a hit from German Stukas. Upon reaching the dock, a rifle, Mosin Nagant M/1891 was all she had.

It became her charm.

During the charge up in Red Square, she managed to take shelter in a building and from that point sniped 2 German soldiers and saved a Commissar. Lieutenant Commissar Alessandro Ricci owed her, and she owed him for promoting her and listing her in the 1047th Rifle Regiment of the 284th Rifle Division of the 62nd Army--the same division where Vasily Zaitsev serve in.

"Where the hell..." she froze as the thundering sounds of metal and gears alerted her

Not far from her position, an SdKfZ 251. Hanomag stops nearby to inspect. Unloading from it were German soldiers bearing 'SS' symbols on their collar; one of them was distinctively a girl, no more than 15 year old. Her hands were in the pockets of her coat.

Breathing slowly, she raise her rifle and took aim. Steadying the cross hair of the scoped rifle, she hesitantly choose her target "Who would be my first catch..."

The sights steadied on a German officer who stands close to the girl.

She held her breath, and pull the trigger

*PAKOOOON*

The shot echoed through out the entire neighborhood as a single 7.62mm round fly across the field and slams right to the head of the German officer. A stream of blood follows as he collapse to the ground.

The girl, a blonde with pigtails cried as she held the deceased. For a moment, Petrushka noticed her teary eyes met hers--as if she was staring right through her scope...

...as if she knew where the shot came from

"Don't worry girl, I'm the same as you. I just knew that. I'll take you to his place...soon..."

A glint around the corner of her scope alerted her the presence of another sniper. Raising her rifle, she took an aim at the glint...

A single shot echoed through the neighborhood once again...

Not many skilled snipers survived the Battle of Stalingrad. Vasily Zaitsev once said, "There was no ground for us beyond [the] Volga". And its ironically true. Each day, men and women who serve under 1047th Rifle Regiment of the 284th Rifle Division died in the hands of German snipers.

Petrushka saw what death was like.

The glint she's aiming for turns to a flash. Seconds later her sights crack, followed with an excruciating pain through her right eye. She collapse, dropping her rifle as flashes of her past plays through her mind. Cold...that was the only thing she felt as she sighs her last breath...

Up on the German side, Heinz Thorvald bolts his Scoped K98K and marks his 50th kill. Lowering his rifle, he gaze upon the blonde girl still crying for her deceased friend...

"Rest easy, Hartman." He said "Triela's safe, and I got the sniper for you..."


-fin-

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Probit Return on Sun 16 Mar 2008 - 12:48

Great work man. I was wondering when you were going to join into your own little game.

Anywho, I've been unable to develope the challenge story I was writing without making it feel all disjointed, so unfortunately, I'll be scraping it. I'll be working on the next creativity challenge when it comes out though.

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Did you say "Nerd"?

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"What do you mean 'What the hell is a Funyarinpa?' You mean... you don't know?"
"How the hell would I know?"
"How could you not know?! That's... that's practically blasphemous! Say you're sorry! Apologize to the Funyarinpa! Goodness, you are such a rude woman..."
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Mon 17 Mar 2008 - 8:31

hehehehe^^

Granted!

Listen to this song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKLpJtvzlEI&feature=related

After listening to it, write anything you feel about the song. It can be a poem, a play, or a one-shot/short story. Rules are:

1. At least an OC present (Lets see some OC into action, ne?)
2. A cross-over with another anime/manga, movie, or video game must be included
3. A limit of 6 characters
4. Setting must take place in world's uncharted areas (plains of Africa, Jungles of Vietnam, etc.)
5. Character death must be present (limit to 3)

...aaaaand that's it for now!


Last edited by Panzer IV on Mon 17 Mar 2008 - 10:49; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by West Nile on Mon 17 Mar 2008 - 8:44

Panzer IV wrote:

After listening to it, write anything you feel about the song. It can be a poem, a play, or a one-shot/short story. Rules are:

0_0 Nan-Desu-ka!

i don't know how point a and point b meets

if i say that the song makes me think of hell, do i just write about Gunslinger Girls going to hell?

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by LoC978 on Mon 17 Mar 2008 - 8:59

it actually made me envision an op taking place at a Siberian prison, a failed extraction, three handlers freezing to death over the course of a few days... and the girls staying with the bodies for another full day, when a second SWA extraction team finally shows up...
then the song ended. I have no idea how I would write that one. I just know the logistics research would take me forever.

...I say someone should write this one using Petra and two of the other stage 2s...

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by West Nile on Mon 17 Mar 2008 - 9:20

I got it!

Jigouku Shoju slash Gunslinger Girl:

I can't believe those 2! We're stuck here in the Sahara and but they do nothing but flirt. There no one else in that little world of theirs is there? It's all Raphael and Triela, Triela and Raphael! What about me? I need to be loved too. Doesn't anyone realize that i need the embrace of another too? I also need the lips of another pressing to mine? What about Claes?

12:00 am
They leave me no choice... if I am going to be loved the triangle has to be broken. One of us has to go.

"Here take this."

"You're the hell girl aren't you?"

"If you pull the string on this doll you sign an official contract with me...
If you do agree with the contract I will send the one you hold a grudge against to hell... However, you have to make a payment to me for my services and when you have died and rotted away you too will go to hell as well... When one is cursed two graves are dug..."

"Wait I still have questions..."

I guess it's just me and this doll then. However, she said that I would go to hell as well. Should I sacrifice my own after life for this finite world?

"Triela... if anything happens here, you do know I love you."

"Of course I do Raph..."

That's it! Who cares about the afterlife. I am a cyborg, I am built to kill, my destiny is hell anyway! *pulls string*


"Where am I... where's Triela?"

"I am sorry Raphael... or should I say Lance Kane, but someone has sent you to hell."

"Who are you suppose to be? Hell? what do you mean?"

"You have caused someone pain Lance... and now you are paying the consequences."

"NO! No one can kill me! Take me back, there must me a mistake!"

"... you're going to hell... and there is no mistake in that."

"That can't be! Triela!"



9:00 am
"Triela the plane's here! We're getting out of this stupid desert!"

"I can see that, have you seen Raph?"

"...Triela..."

"What?"

"What... Raph went into the desert and never came back."

"No! Raph!"

"Triela hold on! Raph won't want you wasting your life like that. He would want you to live."

"No! I don't want to be alone again!"

"You're not alone Triela... you have me."

"Claes what do you mean by th-" *kiss*


"When one is cursed... two graves are dug."

OOS: the story just popped out of my mind, won't mind if someone goes to me and says "What??"


Last edited by West Nile on Mon 17 Mar 2008 - 21:28; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Mon 17 Mar 2008 - 10:44

^^;

That's good for a start^^;

Uumm...ok, I'll clarify the rule.

After listening to the song, what do you feel? What do you think about it? How has it affected your imagination?

After that, get creative! Write a poem, a drama, or a short story based on the feelings or imagination you acquired from the song. The song itself doesn't have to be included, and time-frame/location is free.

I see that it is rather difficult, so I'm 'modifying' the rules a bit. Check above for instructions ^^

I'll write something up...soon. If time provides, I'll do so Very Happy

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Probit Return on Tue 18 Mar 2008 - 12:58

Sweetness. I don't have to work tomorrow, so I should be able to get something up.

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Did you say "Nerd"?

Fission Mailed

"What do you mean 'What the hell is a Funyarinpa?' You mean... you don't know?"
"How the hell would I know?"
"How could you not know?! That's... that's practically blasphemous! Say you're sorry! Apologize to the Funyarinpa! Goodness, you are such a rude woman..."
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by boomer_gonz on Wed 19 Mar 2008 - 9:22

The contest may be over, but I wanted to try one using the first set of rules.


The gun explodes, sending round after round into the distance. The makeshift targets shredded into mere shrapnel as the .50 calibur rounds leave the rotary barrel. The goggles worn by the gun’s operator shield her from the intense heat, but do nothing to protect her from being blinded by the intense light of the muzzle flash. Ear protection saves her hearing, but she still hears ringing from the percussion alone.



Trying with all her might to control the gun, its weight finally buckles under the flimsy bipod. Though try as she might, even her cybernetic might cannot control the raw power of the gun’s recoil. Her world slows nearly to a halt; she can feel the security of the firm ground beneath her simply disappear. In panic, the operator removes herself from the gun hoping to throw it out of harms way.



Only meters from the now dying rotary barrel the final muzzle flash brings a temporary bout of white-out. When her sight returns, the operator finds that she is tumbling with the ground below her becoming increasingly close. A moment later she crashes to the ground, shoulder first. After a minute, she dares open her eyes and through reaction spits her dark hair out of her face. A brief gasp and the conditioning drugs go to work dulling her pain to a slight sting. Dislocated? No, but definitely sprained.



Cradling her shoulder, she looks to the now damaged minigun now lying on the floor. Thought of kicking this machine into scrap metal contemplate within her mind, but her shoulder tells her not to. She hears two people walking toward her, a man and a woman. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she turns and stands at attention as best she can.



“Are you okay?” the taller man asks.

“Y…yes; sir,” the operator responds.

“Are you injured,” he asks again.

“My shoulder stings a little, sir.”



Looking to his side, the tall man gives his attention to the woman beside him.



“Did…that perform as planned?” he asks of her.

“Yes, data performed according to factory specifications.”

“And…that?” he asks pointing to what was a bipod.

“...No data was given for it, Director. It simply came with the package.”

“I see.”



Shifting his attention back to the girl in front of him, he orders her to the infirmary. Nodding in acknowledgment, she favors her shoulder once more. Behind her, she can hear the conversation.



“Please notify Patriot Armament that we will not be investing in their prototype.”


Last edited by emperor on Thu 20 Mar 2008 - 7:24; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Letters too small...)
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Probit Return on Thu 20 Mar 2008 - 12:19

Not bad Boomer. The only thing is that I couldn't figure out who each of the characters were. I wanna say the girl was Claes but I'm not sure. Anywho, here's my latest entry into the creativity challenge.
-------

The humidity of the vast stretches of sand caused the air to distort as the sun hung overhead. Mirages, they were called. This god-forsaken land wasn’t the best place to be caught in. Unfortunately, for two people, they didn’t have much of a choice.

A group of terrorists had fled from Italy, and the pair, a fratello, as they were called by the group they worked for, was sent in to find and exterminate them. Progress was slow.

“Brother,” the girl questioned, gazing over to the man she was travelling with, “didn’t Intel say that the men were supposed to be here?” Here was referring to a bunker that had long been abandoned. The walls were falling down in some places and a layer of sand coated the floors. It was Hell on Earth.

“Yeah Adrie,” the man named Antonio replied. “This was it. But it looks like they’re gone now.” The man sighed as they worked their way through the bunker. “Another wild goose chase.”

It happened so suddenly. A group of armed men appeared from various doorways and around various corners. “Hah, and I thought the Social Welfare Agency was supposed to be ready for anything,” the man in charge laughed. “Put your guns down and no one will get hurt.”

Antonio frowned. “Do as he says Adrianna.” He placed his own rifle on the ground.

Adrianna nodded, placing her Beretta AR70/90 on the ground in front of her.

The man growled. “You think I’m a fool? I know you have another weapon on you.” Adrianna’s handler nodded to her and she placed her MK23 next to the Beretta. “Kick them over. Don’t try anything funny.” Both of them did as they were told.

The leader of the terrorists started laughing maniacally. “You fools. This was easier then shooting fish in a barrel.” He raised his pistol and pointed it at Antonio.

As the man pulled the trigger, Adrianna pushed her handler aside, the bullet hitting his shoulder. He tumbled to the ground as Adrianna threw a punch into a nearby terrorist’s gut. The gun tumbled out of his hands and into hers.

In just a few seconds, the ambush had turned into chaos. Bullets were flying every direction, terrorists taking out their comrades in arms in an attempt to shoot the little girl as she dashed around the corridor, shooting anyone who moved.

Adrianna borrowed another AK from a dead terrorist as she continued her rampage. Soon enough, the terrorists were all dead. She slumped up against a wall in the corridor, her vision blurring. She hadn’t made it out unscathed. “Bro-brother,” she coughed.

He rushed over to her. “Don’t talk. I’m here.” He looked at the multiple bullet wounds she had received. Talking into his radio, he informed the Agency of the turn of events. “Adrianna is down. Send help immediately. It was an ambush.”

Adrianna closed her eyes. “Are, are you safe?” she asked, worry evident in her voice.

Antonio nodded. “Yeah.” It was a miracle. Every shot, with the exception of the first one, had missed him.

A smile appeared on her face. “Good.” She started to cough again, this time, coughing up blood. She didn’t even bother to wipe it up, not that she had the strength to. “Promise me... Promise me you will be happy.”

“Wait. Hang in there. Help is almost here. You’ll be fine Adrie.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry. Everyone dies. It’s just my time.” She opened her eyes and looked into her handler's own eyes. “Just be happy.” She looked behind her handler. “I’m coming.”

Antonio turned around, not seeing anything. “What...?”

Adrianna stared ahead. “That woman, don’t you see her?”

The woman stood patiently, her blue colored armor reflecting the light that was coming through the open parts of the ceiling. A sword was attached to her waist and she held her blue helm in her hands allowing her long silver hair to flow in the breeze. “Rest easy young one. Your trials are over for now.”

Adrianna nodded and closed her eyes. “Goodbye... Brother.” Her ragged breaths slowly came to a stop and she drifted off into the great beyond.

Tears came to Antonio’s eyes. He hung his head low. “Goodbye Adrie,” he whispered, a singular, pure white feather falling to a rest next to him. “Goodbye.”
---------

Heh, you guys are gonna have to figure out the crossover for yourselves. I think I made it obvious enough to make a good guess.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Did you say "Nerd"?

Fission Mailed

"What do you mean 'What the hell is a Funyarinpa?' You mean... you don't know?"
"How the hell would I know?"
"How could you not know?! That's... that's practically blasphemous! Say you're sorry! Apologize to the Funyarinpa! Goodness, you are such a rude woman..."
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Tue 25 Mar 2008 - 4:28

I'm back! Sorry for the delay, I'm caught with deadline and stuff--for school.

...and am also attached to the game Turning Point: Fall of Liberty and modding Company of Heroes :p


So, without further adieu, here's this week topic:

Write a short story based on an alternate universe/History (E.G. Nazi win World War II, Japan defeated the Americans in Midway, The Crusade won against the Muslim, The Israeli lost in the 6-day war, Russia won the Cold War, The Red October never happened (or failed), the Twin Tower plane missed the towers Laughing, etc.)

Rules are:
1. Real-world location (altered if possible)
2. Real-world character of the time
3. Maximum of 5 characters
4. A never-before-seen noun (weapons, tanks, monuments, buildings, character, etc.)
5. Minimum 500 words.

...aaand that's it!

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Nachtsider on Tue 25 Mar 2008 - 4:37

Funny you should mention that, Panzer - I once wrote a story (non-GSG related) in which Kido Butai won at Midway, and then went on to conquer Fiji and Samoa before launching an all-out assault on Hawaii.

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There may be no peace for the wicked, but the righteous can damn well get a piece whenever they feel like it.
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Wed 26 Mar 2008 - 15:41

Laughing
Wow Very Happy

ne ne Nacht-sen, send the link! I'd like to read it Very Happy
I'm in a rather vibe for alternate history Very Happy


So here how mine goes:

...What if the Gunslinger Girls exist back in 1939?
...What if England lost its Prime Minister and its king?
...What if...

...Nazi Germany won the war...


May, 1940.

A month had passed since the Battle of Britain begun in the 10th of June, 1940. British morale was high thanks to its Prime Minister Winston Churchill, and Hitler was slowly loosing his patience due to the expense of manpower used on launching massive bombing raid on the country itself.

He turns to his Italian allies, and ask for support from its Special Forces.

On the night of May 1940, another bombing raid by the Luftwaffe was in schedule. But other than bombs, they carry a greater threat to the British leader.

"Saddle up girls! Conceal your weapons and try to keep things quiet!" says a man dressed in black attire bearing a Nazi banner to his left hand "By noon tomorrow, both British Prime Minister and the king must be dead OR captured. At 1800hrs, a submarine will extract you from dover."

There were 4, one being a male from Hitlerjugend named Frederick.

"Yes sir!" return Triela. Silence was in the air before finally, Hillshire breaks the silence and hugs her dear

"Be safe, my daughter."

"Yes father."

"For the Fuhrer."

"...for the fuhrer..."

As the HE111 Bombers took off, Heinrich Himmler watch from afar as the group of girls from the Italian SWA and one from Nazi Germany's Bund Deutscher Mädel was sent.

"Will she be alright, Victor?" ask the Fuhrer's right hand man "To send your daughter and--her friend from Hitlerjugend--to a mission such as this? We don't know if things would get more insane than this."

Victor smiled, and reply "Don't worry sir. Triela is qualified--I trained her personally. She's capable to knock out cold almost anyone from the Hitlerjugend, and she's strong enough to challenge that friend of his from the same organization."

"Such rude ethics for a girl in the Leage of German Girls but, at times like this, she is what we're looking for." with that said, he turns around and salutes. Hillshire followed soon after

"Heil Hitler!"

Operation 'Night Hawk' was a success. The girls and Frederick, in the midst of the dropping bombs jumped and land using parachute. With normal civilian clothes they easily blend in with the locals in London and soon head for the parliament where, with sufficient training, managed to infiltrate and assassinate both Winston Churchill and the king. After their extraction, the public run amok and morale dropped. Operation Sea Lion was soon initiated and with little resistance, Britain fell to the hands of Nazi Germany. Russia comes next, and with its entire force diverted into the Eastern front the blundering Stalin was defeated with ease.

Soon enough, Nazi Germany had established itself as the 'Third Reich', and the war ended in Europe and Russia in January 5, 1943. The German public cheered, and massive parades were initiated to announce the new German Empire. Amongst the march of paraders, Frederick and Triela stand at their respective organization as they march to the Fuhrer themselves.

It was the beginning of a new era.

The first few years ahead was a total struggle, but soon things were turning better for the Germans--and worse for some. Germany had conquered the Middle East; accepted open-handed and were soon granted to its rich oil fields, granting almost unlimited supply of fuel, rendering cost for German Autobahn cheap. Constant parades were here and there, often showing the world of new German war machine such as the ME282 "Richtofen" Jet powered airplane and the massive dual-barrel "Ratte" tank based on late-war Soviet tank design. But for what?

July 14, 1967

Independence day in America was soon interrupted. German jet-powered bombers stream across the sky and killed dozens in the confusion. German battleship "Bismarck-class" bombarded the streets of New York City and killed more. As German zeppelins carrying paratroopers and zeppelin-based fighters came closer to its destination, Frederick, now part of the SS, turns to his crowd of soldiers--one of them his old partner-in-crime during the assassination of British Prime Minister in 1940.

"This is like training! When you reach the ground, find cover and wait for further orders from me or Sgt. Hartman here!" he turns to Triela and smiled "Just like old times, huh?" she smile in return

"Only this time, we're sure we'll win."

The troops line up, hooks up and ready for the jump. On the back of the line, Triela begun their chant:


"One Country, One People, One Fuhrer! For your blood! For your family! For the Reich! For the Fuhrer! Sieg Heil!"

as if history repeats itself, both Frederick and Triela drop in the midst of the dropping bombs to conquer the unconquerable.

-end



I know it sucks. The worse I've created, I think. I'm somewhat distracted right now, so I think I'll get back to work.. :p

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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Nachtsider on Wed 26 Mar 2008 - 17:59

Panzer IV wrote:Laughing
Wow Very Happy

ne ne Nacht-sen, send the link! I'd like to read it Very Happy
I'm in a rather vibe for alternate history Very Happy

I'm flattered that you'd like to read it, Panzer. Problem is, the thing's still unpublished on the Net. I wrote it when I was very young (eleven or so); although I really did my homework to write the story (the thing's chock-full of actual military details, and a lot of real historical figures like Shigeru Itaya, Takashige Egusa, Mitsuo Fuchida and Shigeharu Murata appear in it, whom I did my very best to write in-character), the language and stuff are rather simple, almost childish. Also, it's still in hard-copy format; I'll have to type it out on the computer and thoroughly edit it before any publishing can be done. But don't worry - I'll link you as soon as it's complete.

The story you've written above is a nice one. You're doing yourself too much of a disservice. I like the idea of Hillshire being a Waffen-SS officer; perhaps you could include a detail about how he picked Triela up, possibly in Amsterdam after Holland fell to Nazi Germany. Frederick in the Hitlerjugend is a great touch, as well. The bit about the Zeppelins I absolutely love - it reminds me a lot of a very powerful favorite scene in Hellsing.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------





There may be no peace for the wicked, but the righteous can damn well get a piece whenever they feel like it.
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Re: Creativity Game

Post by Guest on Tue 1 Apr 2008 - 12:20

Ok, its been due more than necessary...



so if anyone still playing, here's today's topic:

Listen to this song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGG5sB-xt5s&feature=related

Then, using your creative skill, write a short story based on it.


Rules are:

1. No OCs
2. Romance OR Tragic end
3. Maximum 3 characters
4. First-person perspective (yes people, you're in for it Very Happy)
5. Heart touching/heart breaking *to the least*

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