I want to try something new here that I've never done, and never seen done, before. It may be a huge flop, or it may be hugely entertaining; only time will tell.
Our overall goal is to create our own made-up-as-we-go book. Unlike a Choose Your Own Adventure book, we won't have multiple branches coming off of each section, but they are still a good model for the style of writing and length I'm looking for. We want fast-paced, inclusive, PG-rated material that advances the "story" (assuming any sort of coherent narrative forms).
Thus your challenge this week is one of two things (or both, if you fancy a challenge):
- Write an opening section that introduces the protagonist and establishes our starting point. The text should be written in second-person point of view ("You are a young warrior of the Wu Tang Clan") and should be gender-neutral. You can go sci-fi, modern, fantasy, horror, or whatever else you like. The introduction must end with an open-ended statement making it easy for the next person to hook on their section, something like "You turn the corner and see ..." or "Leaping from the cliff, your wild hands scrabble along the rocks and encounter ..." or "Heat vision blasting, out of the corner of your eye you see descending from the clouds a ...", that kind of thing. The goal is to make it easy for the next person to know where to jump off.
- If writing isn't your thing, you can post a link to an image you've created in HeroMachine that the next person will have to incorporate into their scene. It might be a human character of some sort, or an animal, or an item of some sort, or a scene. Whatever you like.
I will choose one image and one text introduction from the top five "most-liked" comments (using our nifty new comment rating system) as the winners, forming the basis for the next chapter in the adventure. Next Saturday I'll make a post like this one with the chosen introductory text, and the image you have to incorporate into the next chapter.
So, each week we'll have:
- A new chapter that incorporates the winning image item from two weeks previous;
- The new image winner from the previous week you'll have to incorporate into your writing chapter;
- A comment thread contest to choose the winning next chapter;
- and a comment thread contest to choose the winning image that the next week's writers will have to use.
That should be clear as mud! Ask any questions you like, and start writing and/or creating! Whether you choose to participate as a creator or not, your input is still very much needed by "liking" the entries you think are best.
Update: I've removed the thumbs-up plugin as it wasn't loading properly. I'll just pick winners like a contest.
OoS: Also any comments should be made with OoS=Out of Scene (kept to a bare minimum)
http://forums.ugo.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=81478&d=1325296228
here’s a mongol-type archer i made using my archer pose
http://frmartworks.wikispaces.com/file/view/mongol.png/290245443/832×630/mongol.png
“the shadow warrior leapt across the ravine.his training served him well. but his teachers had betrayed him. they had denied him his birthright. he had been banished for so-called ‘insolence’, and sent to roam the land in search of work; to a life of lowly misery. but now he was back for revenge. just then he heard a sound to his right. he knew this dojo like the back of his hand, but never had he heard that. he turned and saw…”
jeff– is it okay to have a story part and a completely unrelated picture?
Absolutely ok to have them unrelated, yes.
Hey Jeff, I wrote a comment about an hour ago, but it doesn’t seem to be here…
Not sure what happend, Gero, but I don’t see it in Pending, Trash, or Spam … Maybe it wasn’t submitted? Or maybe it was submitted right as I did a purge or change or something. My apologies, but I don’t have it here anywhere.
It showed up weird, too. After I hit “post” and it appeared on the page, it was in a dotted border like your posts, but yellow inside instead of that peachy colour yours are. I thought maybe it was just something else you added, like so we could pick our posts out faster(like your update that allows e-mails with replys). And then when I went back to look at it later, it was gone (that’s when I wrote my above post). All I had written was that we should do something with pirates, which apparently the site didn’t want posted…
Maybe you hit “preview” instead of “post”. They turn out yellow.
That could very well be what happened…
http://i650.photobucket.com/albums/uu224/seamusmcfrost/maniacmick-webgolem.png?t=1319489120
Here’s web golem that was a finalist in the random contest I believe, I know you said it looked like an RPG character; Jeff, so I thought I’d throw it in.
The spaceship descended through the atmosphere and you felt how the increasing gravity started to pull you down. Unexpectedly alarms started blaring and you barely had enough time to see a high mountaintop jutting up in front of the ship. You don’t know how long you were unconscious after the crash, but when you finally woke up you were surprised to be alive. On a huge boulder outside the ship’s cockpit you saw…
You are a HeroMachinist-a creator of champions of light for Judge Hebert the Bald and his followers. On this day, your Judgeship has asked of you to perform a task. You must help him rebuild his domain. After ten years of heromachinery, mirth and righteous rulings, the Kingdom of the Winged Horse has fallen into dispair. You must venture out into the other realms, seeking alliances, wealth, knowledge and anything else that can help His Baldness make his domain a gathering place for the salivating geeks and nerds who wish to be HeroMachinists.
You take with you, your wits and your skills as a creator of champions. You also have been given the Badge of the Winged Horse, which will allow you free passage into most other domains. But, be aware, not all Domerators will allow you free reign of their domain’s ‘sights’. Those ‘sights’ that you wish to venture through, require a form of payment. If you fail your mission, Judge Hebert the Bald will proclaim your failure for all to see on his Board of Bullington. If you succeed, well, pretty much the same thing.
Now, young HeroMachinist, if you are capable in mind, body and text, proceed through the gateway of the Kingdom of the Winged Horse and…
Lol this should win no question.
I vote for it anyway 🙂
“nifty new comment-rating system” ?
Uh – I don’t see one. Is it just me? Jeff?
@Kaylin88100: he took it out, too much chance of abuse
It should still be there, it’s the little thumbs-up icon just below each comment. Although it loads really slow; when it’s loading it’s the series of horizontal scrolling bars.
On the nights when you take shelter alone from the biting cold winds and roving mutant bandits, you sometimes wonder how the world ended.
There were cities once. The ruins against the setting sun are the sole monuments of those who lived here long before you. The gun strapped across your back was made by these ancient people and the armor around your shoulders was made from metal from their tools. Whatever these were once used for, now you use them to scavenge for food.
You’ve heard many stories in the firelight from the barrel fires. Some say bombs fell from the sky, engulfing the cities for days and bringing a winter that lasted for years. Others say it was a sickness, a plague that changed faster than the scientists could find a cure. Then there was the toothless old fool who said the dead returned to feast on the living who many shouted out, their jeers motivated by fear …
There is an answer. It is your fate to find it.
Jeff – are we limited to one suggestion? I have a few more ideas if it’s too soon to do post-apocalyptic after that Road-Warrior read-along.
As many as you like within reason, TheNate.
This sounds like a neat idea.
I’m having trouble viewing the like comment aswell, all I’m seeing is a red x inside its’ white box. (using IE 9)
Edit: I like the Edit and Deletion Request buttons, very cool, and will be very useful.
LOL
okay, win for sure 😀
The cave is dark and cold. Razor sharp fangs of ice cling precariously to the ceiling high overhead refracting the light in a myriad of colors, a deadly trap for any fool that dares to trespass in the lair or the Winter Witch.
One such fool walks below. You are giant of a man covered from head to toe in bearskin fur, gleaming rings of steel mail can be seen reflecting the light of the torch held high overhead. In your other hand is a sword that most men would have difficulty wielding with two hands. Longer than most men are tall, the blade of this well seasoned weapon of doom gleams as if it is burning with its own inner fire. The base of the blade is as wide as a man’s open hand, covered in runes of a long forgotten language and adorned with gold. The hilt is wrapped with well worn leather and held in the hand of a man whose grip could crush the skull of an ogre.
You stalk through this frozen labyrinth holding the blade out in front of you defensively, expecting danger at every turn. A sharp crack is all the warning you get. Instinct saves you as you lunge forward, narrowly avoiding the colossal stalactite of ice that crashes to the ground inches from where he was standing only moments before. The massive missile shatters on impact sending a shower of frozen death in a wide radius around the area of impact. The resounding thunder of the explosion reverberates through the cavern. The resulting vibrations set off a chain reaction, causing the remaining stalactites to come crashing to the floor in miniature imitation of the first. In desperation, you scramble to your feet making a mad dash across the rubble strewn floor seeking the safety of a tunnel on the far side of the cave.
With the powerful stride and grace of the giant hunting cat, you try to escape the death trap you inadvertently tripped crossing the room. Though you avoid the worst of the calamity, you don’t make it out completely unharmed. Dozens of deep lacerations cover your enormous arms where the thick bear hide failed to provide adequate protection, and several smaller cuts now adorn your face along with other similar wounds from battles long since won. you wear each of these scars as a badge of honor, and can recall the exact moment that you received it.
Your cold blue eyes scan the carnage as the dust settles thinking “So much for the stealthy approach.”
You look around seeking a way to continue to your objective only to discover…
This is part of something that I started writting a while back. This was about as far as I got.
The cobwebs were thick upon the intricately carved altar, throwing odd shadows from the guttering candle in your hand. Your uncle had never installed electricity in the basement of the ancient mansion that he had left you in his will. Opening the crumbling book to the page he had marked before his horribly bloody death, you fulfilled the only proviso to gain the full inheritence by reading out the words on the crumbling parchment, stumbling over the strange words.
Perhaps you should have been more careful with your pronounciation, for in a flash and with a rumble like a Californian quake, there appeared…
http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af309/skybandit/Luvkrapht.jpg
I don’t see them either. All i have is a yellow bar that flashes back and forth like the front of Knight Rider’s car.
The Tribe had given up it’s chase after you passed the Pillar of Skulls, allowing you to rest and gasp for breath. The Priest had declared you a Heretic after you’d given in to your curiosity and broken into the Museum. There must have been something to those old legends, for the wonders you’d seen drove you to a form of madness, and you’d come out of the brass-bound doors in full daylight and announced to the tribe that the Rays were gone. The machines inside the Museum were strange and complex, but since you’d been chosen to learn letters, you could see that the Radiation Detector had read zero.
The Priest and the Mayor reacted with superstitious fear, and called for your death. Arrows had passed by your head like angry bees as you fled, towards the one area you knew they wouldn’t enter: the Forbidden City!
http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af309/skybandit/PostnuclearMan.jpg
The drops of rain pelt down on your head as you hurry through streets. You run fast, which causes you stumble now and then on your way through the night. The rain washes away the other drops on your face that are tears. As you run headlong into the windy darkness, you suddenly slip on a brick and fall forward. Now there is blood added to the equation. It burns your eyes as it seeps out of your wound and flows down into your eyes. Although your training allows for immense tolerance of wounds, you at last gave in and slip into a faint…
When Luna had been opened for exploration and exploitation in the late 21st century, tens of thousands of prospectors had spread across the surface of Earth’s Moon. Many had not returned, and it was not unuaual for a dessicated mummy with empty air tanks or a punctured vaccsuit to turn up now and again.
A call had been made to Central Security from a regional Deputy of the Orbital Authority that sent you out to examine just such a corpse, but there were a few differences. For one, the vaccsuit was of fairly recent manufacture, so the body wasn’t more than a decade old. For another, it appeared that foul play was involved…
http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af309/skybandit/MurderontheMoon.jpg
The flying spghetti monster. It jumped at him and…
I’m having the same problem.
You’ve been riding with the posse for days through the arid deserts, but the Apache tracker says you’re closer than ever to Bad Jack Slims. He says the tracks lead to a valley, a place his people say is forbidden. The sheriff ignores him and says, “Follow me if you’re man enough.” What choice do you have? You adjust your ten-gallon hat, load your six-shooters, and follow.
The air becomes moist as the steep slope becomes green and verdant. The ground levels out as thick fog allows you only to see green shapes – a rainforest. Before you can take in how strange this is some of the shapes begin to move. Something with feathers and large claws pounces on the man next to you. Then something comes towards you. Your horse takes off in a fast gallop.
You struggle to hold onto the saddle as it shoots between the huge lumbering legs of a giant lizard. A dozen jagged dagger-like teeth snap in your face.
When you get control of it again you’re far from the rest of the posse. But there are footprints – cowboy boot footprints. They lead your eyes to Bad Jack Slims, who has a rifle pointed right at you.
“What’s it going to be, buckaroo?” he asks. “Are you going to try to arrest me, or are we going to work to together to survive in this land of … COWBOYS AND DINOSAURS?”
Yeah, not impressed so far with this thumbs-up plugin, it doesn’t seem to be able to load more than half the time. I might just yank it and pick the ones I like at the end like a Caption Contest. Bummer.
“It didn’t really end in nineteen-forty-five.” The major takes a deep drag on his cigarette. “I mean, Hitler died, we took Berlin, but we didn’t take a certain site on the North Pole. They were working on all kinds of crazy stuff – tanks as large as buildings, occult magic, jetpacks – we thought this was dumber than attacking Russia.
He hands you a dossier. “As you can see in those photos, we were wrong. Your eyes aren’t deceiving you, those are bases built in craters, and those are missiles inside of them. We don’t know what they’re planning, but they’ve been working on it for twenty years now. Just look at all those swastikas – it can’t be anything good.
“You’ll lead a hand-picked crew of agents with specialties in hand-to-hand combat, engineering, flight, and other skills to find out what’s going on up there and put an end to it. Are you ready to save your country from … NAZIS ON THE MOON?”
The old man coughs blood. “It’s no use. Not even my magic can keep me alive much longer. I was a great sorcerer once, but I fear I wasn’t a good person. There’s something you should know, my apprentice …
“You are not the first I’ve trained. Before you I taught a slave child the ways of transmuting, to turn stones into gems. He became a forger.
“After he left, I taught a shy farm boy the way of charm and illusion. He used his skills at controlling mind to become a skilled scam artist.
“Then I met a war orphan and taught him the ways of controlling elemental energies. He became an invoker, one skilled in channeling his will into powerful attacks, and now kills anyone who gets in his path.
“Frustrated by my failures, I taught a sickly boy the ways of life and health. He became a necromancer. Is there more I should say?
“Then there was the simple tot I trained in the ways of divination so he could read signs from the world around him to ascertain the future. He became a skilled intuitive, but I know more more about his fate.
“You are my last student. Maybe you aren’t the most magically apt, but you have the best heart of all of them. My dying wish is that you redeem my legacy by putting an end to these fiends. Please … do not make the wrong choices and let your heart turn black …”
“Secure the prisoner! Keep running! Move! Move!”
The explosion had knocked you to the ground. Disoriented but not shaken, you inch toward the guard next to you. As you reach for the gun in his lifeless hand, someone grabs your arm and pulls you to your feet. It is hard to distinguish his uniform because of the blood in your eyes.
The soldier points a gun to your face then tugs the handcuffs. You stumble as he leads you by the chains away from the ambush. The soldier points his gun at your head, “Get up! Now!”
You look up to see the soldier’s visor split in half. The near instantaneous sounds of the helmet and skull cracking pierce your ears. His blood sprays everywhere.
Now, you are shaken… and nauseous. First the midnight raid, then the explosion, now a sniper. What is it that you know that the government would arrest you? That someone would ambush a prison transport? Are they friend or foe? Are they here to rescue or silence you?
A second bullet grazes the right side of your neck, snapping you back to the now. You slip on the soldier’s blood as you struggle to your feet. Your first priority is cover.
To the right, you see a medivac lift preparing for takeoff. To the left is a figure obscured by the smoke. You can see the figure holds a rifle in the left arm. It is waving you to come with the right. Through the cloud, you see another lift landing behind the figure.
The sniper takes another shot. This time, the bullet grazes your left earlobe. As impossible as it seems, you believe that he’s not trying to kill you. He’s driving you.
The battle continues just one block from where you stand. Suddenly, another explosion so powerful that it cracks the concrete directly under you. Shattered glass rains from the towers. You look to the medivac then turn your head to the shadowy figure. You turn behind you. The firefight draws near. With the window closing, you make your choice then run toward…
This is where I ask, WHAT thumbs-up plugin? Maybe there’s a second plugin around that you can use instead?
How about a Poll Daddy like FnF? There’s already a lot of adventures seeds! Some really good stuff, too.
I could make one more suggestion since the thumbs plug-in isn’t working?
With the nesting each person who wants to vote for a particular comment could just reply and type their nest number or something along those lines. So for instance say I liked Atomic Punk’s story, I could nest with a comment of 1, Then say TheNate liked it aswell, he could nest with the comment 2 and so on and so forth, to keep it tallied.
Not the idea method, but it could make do for now?
Jeff, I’m not a WordPress expert, but I went looking at their plugin directory and found these:
http://wordpress.org/extend/plugins/comment-rating-widget/
and
http://wordpress.org/extend/plugins/gd-star-rating/
maybe one of them will provide a suitable replacement for the failed voting plug-in?
The moment the fax came through, Jed Logan knew little good could come of this story. He had received a fax from a clergyman at Mission San Juan Bautista. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, given the current circumstances. A local man had allegedly leapt to his death from the bell tower at the mission two days ago. It was Jed’s job to uncover the reasons especially seeing as how he’d had twenty years to give into any thoughts of suicide while in prison. The most unsettling thing about the fax was the apparent urgency in which the note had been written.
Later that night, as Detective Mark Williams knelt down next to Jed Logan’s body, he examined the surrounding area and noticed how bizarrely clean the entrance was. Something just didn’t feel right.
It’s high summer. The heat is unbearable, even at night. Despite the smell, you find the only relief from the heat is to stroll along the docks and let the salty spray settle over you. You feel naked without the familiar worn leather of your armor caressing your skin, but to wear something like that in this heat would just be compounding your misery. Besides, even without your armor on, you still have your small arsenal of knives secreted on your body. And there is also that handy little ring on your finger. A gift from the last fellow who mistakenly approached you on a late night stroll just like this one. Men… see a pretty face alone in a dark alley and they either think you a damsel in distress, or an easy mark. Well, you have gotten yourself out of enough jams to know better! If only your contact would make himself known, you could finish the job and move on to a more hospitable climate. A week in one place is way too long for your taste. You can almost feel small shoots starting to spring forth from your feet to dig deep into the earth rooting you to one spot forever! Ha! Now there’s a fanciful thought! Seeing that in your minds eye, almost has you running for your inn to pack your gear and catch the next ship to anywhere. Almost. But then there is the matter of the gold. You didn’t trek across half the continent through hostile territories just to bail out when a little wanderlust sets in. No, the promise of payment overrides the need to be moving. For now. As long as you can keep yourself entertained, that is. He said to keep a low profile, but that doesn’t mean a girl has to be bored out of her mind does it? Is it your fault these local fops want to make it easy for you to relieve them of their coin? Is it your fault if they never notice the sleight of hand involved when the dice always seem to come up for you? Or if they never seem to notice after an ‘accidental’ bump in the market that their purse seems lighter? I don’t think so. After all, a girl has to keep sharp. You don’t get this good by sitting by letting the boys have all the fun! Like the time your brothers told you not to follow them into the old mine. Where would they be… Damn! What was that?! Daydreaming when you should be paying attention. Fool! Good way to wind up face down in an alley somewhere. There… behind those crates… yes something is there that doesn’t fit. Keep moving. Slowly. Mustn’t let your new friend know he’s been spotted yet. Might scare him off before you get to have some fun with him. Look for the best spot to set your trap… some place where your slight build and speed will work for you. Here, in the shadows behind the warehouses. Now, we wait to see what he…What the… Gone?! How? You never let him out of your sight. Could the shadows have played tricks on your eyes? A familiar feeling as of cold lightning racing down your spine is your only clue. Magic. Damn… Stakes just got higher.
Same here…
This is perfect for whats been going on this week.
I tried GD Star and it’s just so bloaty. Plus I couldn’t figure out a way to have it rate just the comments. The other one I looked at but I can’t remember what the problem was, I’ll re-look.
You stand in your dressing chamber and stare at your clock: the gears are exposed, a chain hangs from behind it, and Roman numerals surround its face. It is nearly six o’clock.
“You’ll be late,” your butler laments.
Outside a steam whistle sounds. You rush to the window and see your carriage–one of the few that doesn’t need a horse–waiting and grin; driving it is one of the few pleasures you have. Holding the levers and listening to the gears and springs sends tingles running up your spine. Quickly, you finish dressing and walk out the door to attend the white tie affair.
At the ball, you mingle with noble personages, dance a waltz or two, and smile winningly at those who catch your eye. Though not as dull as you expected, high society does not hold the appeal it once did. Even if this is the Queen’s Ball.
Then, however, you hear a piercing cry…
Okay, this is just the thing I like, so here I go:
The moon is dim, hidden by clouds turning the darkness of the forest into shades of black and grey. All you see are dark trunks, and bare branches. Winter is not the time to be a Forager, winter is the time for the Hunters and Slayers to be about their work in the terrifying nights that seem to last forever. Again you curse yourself for straying during the days foraging. The elders tell tales of foul creatures that roam when night falls, dread wraiths, were-beasts and the worst of all, Vampyres and all their kin. You lost the path hours ago and now as the night grows colder, you realize that your breath is not the only thing you hear. Terror blossoms in your heart and suddenly every whistle of wind is a sinister fiend, a shift in shadows a death just waiting to strike. Sweat beads your forehead and you gasp for breath. In this state you wake, the pale sun shining through the door of your hut. A shady figure stands there, and you recognize Solfiid, the village’s Master Slayer.
“Come little one, it is time for you to take the Mark” he says, turning out into the village.
You dress quickly, the fear of your dream fading as you follow. The whole village has turned out to witness your Marking. The Mark is a great honor, one that few people ever earn the right to bear. Solfiid beckons you over and gestures for you to sit on the small stool beside him. The moment is solemn and you cannot help but be silent and still as he lifts the first needle and lowers it to your arm. The work is slow and it is past noon when the Mark is complete.
“You are a true Slayer now” Solfiid says, handing you a sword.
The shout from the watchmen sounds out, bewilderment overcoming the villagers, as they realize foes are near. You steel yourself to face the threat as the first enemy makes it’s appearance…
You stand and pull on your leather duster jacket. Grabbing your trusty revolver, you slide it familiarly into the holster on your upper thigh. Taking a deep breath of the recycled air, you exit your cabin.
The only sound that breaks the silence is the steady clank of your boots on the floor panels. The corridor is tight, but you’ve grown accustomed to it. The air is staler than you like, but you haven’t been planet-side in a good, long span.
As you enter the cockpit, your pilot flips a few switches and, in his thick Russian accent, says, “Wessel approaching, Kiptin.”
Raising an intrigued eyebrow, you say, “Put them on the viewer.”
He complies and the captain of the other ship appears on a small screen on the upper bulkhead.
You contain your apprehension and try to offer a friendly smile to the lawman…
With a gasp, you jerk awake. Some nightmare! For a moment, you really believed you were about to die.
As you calm down, you realize that the bed you are in is unfamiliar. The dim moonlight peeking through the window doesn’t reveal much, but it’s enough to let you know that this is not the room you would have expected to find yourself in.
You realize with a start that you are not alone. Someone is sitting at the foot of the bed. The figure rises, and is suddenly illuminated. It is a woman with long black hair and strange black eyes, clothed in a dress that reminds you of raven feathers. Her mouth curls slightly into a gentle smile. Taking one step toward you, she reaches out her hand. “Do not be afraid,” she whispers.
“It’s time to go.”
“Not every teenager is as special as you,” says Doctor Ignatius. “You can do things few others can accomplish. But even if you want to help people, they will fear you. They may try to hurt you, exploit you, or even kill you.
“I can give you sanctuary. I have many other teens under my control – I mean living in my school. You can work with them to make our kind more accepted in society. Together, we can make tomorrow better by making people accept mutant superiority – I mean equality.
“If you agree, find your way to Doctor Ignatius’s School for the Incredibly Gifted. You can become one of the I-People.”
I just wrote something very similar:
You see and feel your breath rise over your face as you stare into the winter. You shudder and pull the blanket closer to your body. This is unnatural, this cold so deep. So deep, like an icicle stabbing your heart… so deep… so cold… yet it burns… you can’t breath… so cold… but your heart burns!
Stop it! Stop it! Stop! You sit up straight in bed. You clutch your chest and catch your breath. Sweat rolls over your body. Your fumble into the darkness, reaching for the light switch that will illuminate your room and wake you from the nightmare.
Something squeezes your hand. You look to its direction. From the pitch black two red eyes glow and a sharp-toothed grin appears.
“Oh, no, little one, the master wants to see you.”
http://forums.ugo.com/picture.php?albumid=251&pictureid=2227
The Atomic Punk
I did a picture a while back that was similar to yours.
http://i.imgur.com/13hD2.jpg
I called this one “The Wraith”
So are we doing this, or …?