Author Topic: Fortnightly Writing Competition: SECOND CHANCE! (Voting)  (Read 830 times)

Baron

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  • Baron worked on a game that was nominated for an AGS Award!
All right, the deadline is looming now. Can I have an extension please? ;)

JudasFm

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All right, the deadline is looming now. Can I have an extension please? ;)
Dangit, Baron, you sneaky banana dictator, you ninja-ed my post :-D I wanted that slot to keep my entry going.
Oh well ;)

(Continued from here)

Sleep

The typical Nemesean quarters are small with a three-tier bunk bed on both walls. Single rooms are available at an increased price.

Nemeseans will put families together, but if there's a bed, they'll fill it. In other words, if there are four of you, you can expect to share with two strangers. It's possible to buy the room out, but only if there are no other passengers who need the space. Moving rooms is not allowed unless there are extremely mitigating circumstances, such as one of your roommates attacking you or stealing from you.

All the rooms are covered by security cameras, but the adjoining bathrooms are not, so the more modest of you can always go and change in there.

Those who are moving worlds as opposed to visiting on a tourist visa can expect to spend their entire time locked in the room, so think very carefully about who will be staying with who. Nemeseans are very amenable to requests for single or twin rooms providing those requests are made before booking.

Learn

Although there are educational facilities on the Nemesis, no outsiders are permitted to make use of them or even visit. If you have children who you're taking with you, either bring the equipment you need to home-school them or accept that they're not going to be going to classes all the time you're on the ship.

Work

In a word, impossible, or pretty damn close.  The Nemesis won't hire outsiders on any long-term basis, regardless of your skills.  You may be allowed to help out in the mining crews or in the kitchens, but don't expect to be paid and regardless of how much younger your boss is, remember that he/she is your boss and treat them accordingly.  Doing this is a hard way to spend your vacation, but it offers the best way to get to know some of the crew members, although it's very unlikely they'll socialize with or even acknowledge you much outside of work.

An exception may be made for those in the medical profession, such as doctors and dentists.  However, you will not be paid for your services unless it's in the way of personal gifts or tokens directly from your patient (refusing is a serious insult, but re-gifting is perfectly acceptable. For example, if you receive a ring, the crew member who gave it to you won't be at all offended if you decide to pass it on, although it's considered polite to wait until they aren't around).  It's worth noting that since you're not guaranteed to receive anything from it, if a crew member asks for your help, you are not obliged in any way to give it.

The only permanent, guaranteed work is in the acting world.  The crew script and produce their own dramas and movies, but due to their young age, they often require more mature actors aged around thirty and above.  Since they can't afford to pay the high wages demanded by A-list performers, they're very happy to hire inexperienced performers looking to build a portfolio.  Auditions – or at least, preliminary interviews – are required.  You will not receive any money, but you will be given free room and board and far better treatment than any tourist, according to accounts from performers who have worked in several dramas. An example is Kanae Godai, who played a large part in one of the first Nemesean dramas and who built up enough of a rapport to be granted the status of honorary crew member, allowing her to come and go from the ship freely with no need for a visa and even be granted crew quarters.

Stay safe

Violent crime is very rare on board the Nemesis, and pickpocketing is unheard of.  Your belongings should be safe in your room, but you are advised not to leave valuables lying around in plain sight.  As one crew member famously said, "We're not criminals, but we're not saints either." 

Illegal drugs of any kind carry an extremely stiff penalty, both for the crew and for outsiders.  Depending on where you're going, the crew may decide to hand you over to the authorities at the other end, but you can count on a good few days without food before you get there, and if the crew doesn't consider the penalty at your destination harsh enough, or thinks you may be able to avoid it due to money or connections, they will mete out justice according to their laws.

Stay healthy

If you need medication, be sure to bring a copy of your doctor's prescription with you, otherwise you'll likely be refused entry.  This may seem harsh, but it relieves the crew of the pressure of trying to decide whether you're genuinely ill or attempting to smuggle drugs.  The Nemesis has a fully stocked and equipped mediwing should you become injured.

Respect

Crew members on board the Nemesis are known for being extremely touchy, at least with outsiders, although they're usually pleasant and friendly outside the ship and with each other. Those outsiders who have managed to find work as actors are usually accorded a lot more respect, even liking; a few have even managed to reach the unofficial status of honorary crew member.  For a tourist though, it's sort of a damned if you do, damned if you don't philosophy.  If you attempt to strike up a friendly conversation, you'll be seen as over-familiar and presumptuous; if you keep your mouth shut apart from addressing your guide, you'll be seen as arrogant and thinking yourself too good to speak with the likes of the crew.

Age is not a factor on the Nemesis, the youngest crew member being eleven.  This can take some getting used to, and your guide will most likely be in their mid to late teens.  Accept this and do not act offended or outraged when they forbid you from going somewhere or doing something.  They're not doing it to be bratty; they're doing it because those are the rules and if you break them, your guide is the one who will get into trouble.

Do not attempt to enter a Team room or a crew member's personal room.  These are all marked with the names on the outside.  It's highly unlikely a tourist card will grant you access, but anyone inside will know someone is trying to get in and if someone catches you in the act, you're going to have some awkward explaining to do.

Do not offer helpful suggestions on how to improve things unless you have managed to build up an extremely close rapport with your guide (very difficult, as most of them will keep you at a polite distance!) or unless your suggestions are very innocuous and crop up naturally in the course of a conversation, such as being asked your opinion on someone's outfit.  Even then, keep it very neutral; saying something like, I saw on this TV show how they made outfits by... will be far better received than I think you should... Even if the crew in question know that such an episode was never aired, the effort at modesty on your part will be appreciated and none of them will call you on it.

Although it's not uncommon to see several members on the pool islands using each other as headrests and bundling up together like wolves in a den, physical contact from you is a big no-no.  Most will accept a handshake, but this is as far as you can go.

Do not criticize any decision made by the bridge crew, or the crew members themselves.  Doing so will land you in serious trouble.  The bridge crew don't care what people say about them, but the regular crew will, and they are fanatically loyal to their leaders.  Even if you heard them making the exact same criticism five seconds ago to their friends, keep your mouth shut and your opinions to yourself. 

Occasionally, a crew member may attempt to engage you in a debate along those lines in an effort to set you up for a fall.  If you're asked your opinion on anything, be very vague and non-committal in your answers, and keep those answers along the lines of, "Well, I don't really know enough about it to be able to offer an opinion; after all, I'm just a visitor here." Other crew members tend to frown on this kind of tourist-baiting, so it's very likely one or more of them will extricate you from that situation.

All your photos and holojections will be examined before you leave.  It's highly unlikely any will be erased, but the faces of all crew members will be blurred and distorted to avoid recognition.  Do not attempt to do this yourself; the crew will take the view that what you've done, you can also undo, and will erase the pictures.  They will blur the faces for you during the final inspection of your goods and photographs.  You will not be charged for this, nor will you get in trouble unless you attempt to stop them; it's part of their job and they expect to do it, so smile, thank them and let them get on with it.  Instead of blurring, you can also request they paste an image over the top of the faces.

Nudity when swimming or occasionally basking is considered normal and accepted, although not all the crew indulge.  This should not be taken as an invitation and if you find it offensive, you are advised to stay away from the biodeck and the swimming areas.  Do not pass comment or request they cover themselves up; no one in the crew cares about your delicate sensibilities.  Outsiders are not expected to strip off, although if you choose to, you won't be judged.

Some areas are more popular than others, however, and should you want to avoid seeing any nudity, you are advised to ask your guide to scout ahead.

Contact

Outsiders are not granted access to any networks.  While on board the Nemesis, you will be entirely cut off from your friends, family and your workplace.  Exceptions may be made on a case-by-case basis; permission to send a family member a virtual birthday or Col-Day card will always be granted, but if you want to send a long-winded email to a family member talking about the crew, you'll hit a wall.  Writing about how the Nemesis is set up is fine to a certain extent so long as you don't get too specific.  For example, you can say how T-cards work as the currency system and that there's a movie theater on the rec-deck, but not how to get to that deck.

All communication devices must be turned in at the beginning of your stay and will be kept safe and returned to you when you leave.  It is possible for people on the outside to contact you, but it is strongly discouraged and you should be aware that any communication you receive will be examined and read before being passed onto you.

Conclave

There seems to be some confusion over the purpose of Conclave, with most outsiders thinking of it as a kind of courtroom equivalent where the bridge crew presides as judge, jury and executioner.  While this is reasonably accurate, it's only half the story.  The structure of Conclave can vary in that sometimes it's used to determine guilt, and other times it's used solely to determine the punishment, in cases where a person has been caught red-handed. 

Should you be summoned before Conclave, you can expect to lose everything you own except the clothes you stand up in.

Outsiders do not have the right to call Conclave on anyone, but they can request their guide to do so under appropriate circumstances, such as something of theirs being stolen or one of their group being assaulted by a crew member. 

Do not antagonize or challenge the bridge crew.  They are not just above the law; they are the law, and despite the xenophobic attitude of most of the crew, you will be given a fair hearing at Conclave and granted the same rights as anyone else.  If the crew member is the one at fault, you will be compensated adequately.  In your case, this will likely be in the form of a favor, such as an extra two hours on the biodeck.  While you can make a request as to the type of compensation you would like, it may or may not be granted, and unlike a crew member brought to Conclave, you do not get any say in the guilty person's punishment.

If your belongings are damaged, the bridge crew will cover the cost of a replacement for you. 

Conclusion

The Nemesis is not the violent hothouse of paranoia and xenophobia that most people seem to believe; in fact, if you look at it from a purely demographical point of view, it is the only society in existence to have achieved full integration of all planetary cultures, an unemployment rate of zero percent, a crime rate of around two percent and a stable, working economy.  The main reason for the extremely high restrictions is because the crew would very much like to keep it that way.

--

Anyone thinking that the world might sound familiar, well, you obviously have an awesome memory ;) But yes, it's the world my Whodunnit entry was set in :D
« Last Edit: 05 Nov 2017, 14:25 by JudasFm »

Sinitrena

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I'm all for more time if it means more entries - deadline extended: 9. Nov. 2017

Mandle

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Sweet.... A second, second chance!

WHAM

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Sweet.... A second, second chance!

I see what you did there...
My Fortnightly Writing Competition collected works
https://goo.gl/VUQbzU

Baron

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Edit: Blast!  7 minutes past the deadline! (roll)

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

Theme: Whodunnit

Started: Not before this competition, but I did have an idea kind of related to how it actually turned out. (roll)

Ghosts of the Pleistocene

   Dames.  I don't know why the seven-letter word “trouble” hasn't gone out of usage when there's a shorter five-letter word that means the same thing.  Dames.

   It's a cold city out there, and I've got the AC turned up to max in my heart.  I'm sitting in my office at 4:02pm on a Friday, counting the minutes until the weekend.  Not that I couldn't take a weekend whenever I felt like it, since I'm a self-employed detective.  But I like the idea of drinking with other people for a change. 

   Then she walks in, all hussed-up like a movie starlet, carried in by a steamroller of thick perfume.  She's got this awful sob tale about a murdered husband and no one to turn to.  Apparently she was looking for a strong shoulder to cry on, and someone to get her out of a fix.  I told her to call a plumber and come back Monday morning, but she threw this hysterical tantrum and now I need to buy a new coat stand and solve a murder in 56 minutes.  Dames.


   “It's like this Frankie,” she moans.  “Bertie was in the museum finishing his piece.  He's a payling-tologist.  The money's lousy, but he had a large inheritance to live off of, and boning was a great passion of his.”

   This is going to require a bit of sauce before magic hour.  I get up to pour a drink, offering her one as I do.  I can see in the mirror behind the liquor cabinet that she's eyeing me through lashes longer than brush bristles.  That must be some kinda fancy mascara, not to run with all the weeping she's been doing.  Or maybe it's still frozen from the frigid temperatures outside....  She refuses curtly, then continues.

   “So Bertie's working late last night, getting ready for the big exit-bition.  He's been working on this ripple-caw of a big cat for months.  The whole skull-eton is there, hanging from the ceiling in the disk-play hall.  And then he gets attacked.  They found him this morning, rivers of blood flowing into the floor drain.  Dead as a door handle.  The police are baffled.  I got no one to turn to, Frankie.”

   It's probably a bad time to tell her my name is Lester.  She's clearly after Frankie Gillespie, the guy who runs the detective agency next door and works weekends.  A real go-getter type that loves this breathless dame stuff.  But I'm hooked on the story now, and I like to drink with other people.  Especially dames in tight skirts with feather boas.  Sure her head seemed a bit empty, but her dress was full in all the right places.  Another 46 minutes of her company couldn't hurt.

   I sit back down and ask her if the police found anything, anything at all.
  “Well, that's the strangest thing.  Bertie was found surrounded by a string of decorations, and two punk-sure wounds in the chest.  They said the wounds were cons-isn't with an attack of a saver-tooth tiger, the very animal whose bones he was working on!  But here's the thing: the skull is rare.  The only one in the whole city was se-curly fastened above him.  And there wasn't a trace of blood on it, or any evidence that it had been moved or tempered with.”

   Now I like a challenge as much as the next man, and this crime scene had all-you-can-eat buffet written all over it.  No murder weapon, and the only suspect was a ten-thousand year old extinct predator.  Maybe 43 minutes was pushing it....

   What was missing from this whole sorry scene was a motive.  I needed to get inside Bertie's head, figure out who might want him dead.


   “Well, he was very respected at the apartment of nah-churl history.  He had an ass-isn't named Marty who was a bit of a buff-loon.  Young guy with a hard time staying folk-kissed.  Eyes and hands always rowing where they shouldn't, if you get my meaning.  And he never got along with Billy Gates the secret-y guard at the museum.  He didn't like that Bertie worked late so often.  Said it made his job more difficult.  Besides those two, and me of course, Bertie didn't have time for other people.”

   As if on cue a tall but spindly man stumbles into my office like a drunken spider.  He trips over the downed coat stand and falls into a chair next to the dame, glasses fogging up from the warm air.  The dame declines to make introductions, turning instead to stare at the frosted window with her pouty face on.  I didn't need the niceties, though.  This guy had “Marty” written all over him, especially on his name badge and on the tag sticking out of his right shirt cuff.  Marty ogles the dame for a little longer than was decent, then turned to face me.

   “Hi, I'm Marty,” he says, extending a hand and knocking over my ink blotter in the process.  He's got well-meaning ineptitude written all over his face in little freckle-sized writing.  “Well, I hope, uh, that Priscilla has already, er, engaged your services to solve the, um, murder of my boss, Dr. Partridge?”

   So the dame has a name.  Interesting.

   An awkward silence ensues as I size the pair of them up.   Marty fidgets like a ferret in a paper towel tube.  The dame just stares at the window frost, practising her duck-face.  They're in cahoots somehow, that much is clear.  How else would they both stumble into the wrong detective agency at 4:26 on a Friday?  Marty can stand the silence no longer and starts to babble:
  “Well, I guess you, er, want my side of the story?  I was, uh, like, helping Dr. Partridge with some last-minute assembly of the, you know, exhibit until 6pm last night.  Mostly polishing the castings, 'cause, uh, he won't let me touch the skeleton after the, er... incident.”

   Marty casts this sideways glance at the dame, and she finally snaps.   “You shoulda been there, Marty!  You shoulda been ass-isn't-ing him all night, and then this woulda never happened!”

   Marty does this this weird triple take at her, then turns back to me, then back to the dame again, then back to me.  God, it's like watching a kitten with a ping-pong ball.  Whoever reckoned he'd make a good paleontologist must've figured he'd just have to hold the pick next to the rock and the vibrations alone would do the work for him.  That, or maybe it was the nice tie that got him in the door.  I ask him where he was between 6pm and the time the body was discovered the next morning.

   “Wha-, me?  Er, I was at the... well, uh...” He glances at the dame again, who blows a blond curl out of her face with exasperation.  To save you ten minutes of me drinking and Marty blathering, the gist of the story is that he was decoration shopping for the big show, and then sleeping soundly at his rooming house all the way out in Minnetonka.  I could ask Mrs. Halloway, the old landlady to vouch for his whereabouts.  Apparently she doesn't sleep with him, but knows he's around because the bolts in the vents rattle.  I don't buy any of it, except the bit about the vents.

   I turn to the dame and ask about her alibi.  She gives me the same withering look she had been saving for sweet Marty, but humoured me in the end.
  “I was at the bingo hall, of course.  Didn't win nothin'.  But my friend Fanny Mae won the graham prize, and she can attend to my presents.  Then we hit a couple of dance clubs to celibate, and I was home by 8:30 to make dinner, you know, in case Bertie came home and was hungry.”  She batted her long eye-lashes at me, trying to waft the nonsense over in my direction.  Anyone with bingo scars knows the main event doesn't go down till just before 10pm.

   I was about to probe more deeply into their likely stories when a fat old man with a walrus moustache lumbered into the office.  The only furniture left for him was my thinking sofa, which he promptly occupied with a triumphant wheeze.  Judging by his uniform and the familiar whiff of whiskey, this was Billy Gates the security guard.


   “Followed the tracks in the snow,” he said gruffly, anticipating my question.  “Been hell to pay up at the museum today..... what with the tragic events happening just under my nose.....  Truth be told..... I've been getting a bit lazy in my dotage.....  But the mind's as sharp as.... well.... it's still sharp anyway.....  Those police investigators just tick the boxes..... but I know suspicious circumstances when I see them.....  The mammalian hall doors being locked up.....  Precious specimens going missing....  Equipment left out blocking the hallways.....  Dr. Partridge acting right peculiar, even for him..... I need a drink.....”

   I'm quick to oblige, partly because this Billy Gates character is the sanest person I've met this afternoon, but mostly because I need a refill and we're on a tight time-line here.  I only hope he drinks faster than he speaks: I've only got 23 minutes left!  I ask him where he was at the time of the murder.

   “I don't reckon I know exactly....  We had a row over the flammable decorations strung up all over....  He was in a right rage.... given it was just a fire-code violation....  So I left his floor alone for half the night....  Came back at 2am to find the door locked....  I could hear him quietly tapping away with his hammer....  Went back at 6am and all was quiet....  I unlocked the door and there he was.... dead as the stuffed dodos in the avian wing....”

   Not a bad story, but the old man was being a little too helpful to be genuine.  Nobody that unenergetic would venture through the cold and storm after a full shift of work and then a full day of police questioning without a really good reason.  I ponder the three of them: the ditsy trophy wife, the bungling assistant, the meddlesome security guard.  What was the motive here?

   “I'd never hurt a hair on poor Bertie's head!  He was my solo mate!”  But the dame did stand to gain a lot financially since her husband was independently wealthy....

   “Dr. Partridge was, uh, like this, er, mentory guy for me.  I, uh, really admired and respected him.”  The good doctor was probably holding Marty's career back, probably for good reason.

   “Why would I.... want to kill him......?” The fat security guard casually pulled back his sleeve to check the time on his gold watch.  Maybe those precious specimens were disappearing under his watch and the victim called him out on it? 

   So three motives and only 16 minutes left.  Time to start wrapping this case up.  I ask each suspect one more question.


   “Of course we had a happy marriage!  Just last week was our second universe sorry.  He took me out to a swanky rester aunt and got all kinds of icks pensive orders.  He never does crazy stuff like that, so it shows he loved me!”

   “Wha-?  The, uh, skull of a sabre-toothed tiger?  Yeah, well, er....  It would weigh, like, around thirty pounds in real life.  But the castings are a lot, uh, heavier, since they're usually made of, like, polymer?”

   “Yeah, equipment right in the middle of the hall....  Big moulds the size of a bar-fridge....  What with the radiators there's no way.... a guy my size could squeeze by....  Another fire-code violation..... is what it was...!”   

   Some say solving a murder in an hour is like trying to solve a Rubik's cube blindfolded, but I usually don't listen to those kinds of people unless I'm drunk.  Which I intend to be in precisely ten minutes down at the bar.  Maybe I might not have all the facts, but I think I've got enough of the gist of the case to take a wild stab at solving it.  What do you think?
    
« Last Edit: 10 Nov 2017, 21:49 by Baron »

Sinitrena

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This is for the Whodunnit theme? In this round we guessed the culprits before the voting, so I think about 24h to guess and get any last minute entries in, and then Baron can post the solution and we can start voting. Sound fair?

Now, the deadline is really looming ;)

Edit: Speculation Time:

Add spoiler tag for Hidden:
I would say the wife and the assisstant have an affair. They act sceevy around each other, theri alibis are a bit questionable. Add to that that the wife can expect a sizeable inheritance, she's the most likely suspect. But I assume the guard might have noticed her, and she seems a bit stupid to succesfully kill someone, so I think the assisstant killed her husband for her. I have no idea how he actually did it though.

Only a few hours left untill I start the voting.
« Last Edit: 10 Nov 2017, 20:47 by Sinitrena »

Baron

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Wait, wait, wait.  I thought for the Whodunnit theme the solution was only revealed after the voting. :undecided:

Sinitrena

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Wait, wait, wait.  I thought for the Whodunnit theme the solution was only revealed after the voting. :undecided:

Originally, but then the rules changed. To quote you:

Quote
Now to the voting format.  The consensus seems to be to separate the voting from the guessing, and I never was one much for getting in the way of a consensus.  So, we will have 3 phases of post-competition interaction:

Phase 1 - Speculation[...]

Phase 2 - Revelations[...]

Phase 3 - Voting[...]

There was a rule-change midway through, so I went by the updated rules.

If you're not ready to reveal the murderer yet, I guess we can do the speculation during the voting. Either way, I'll keep the competition open until the end of the day. (Unless someone begs for another last minute extansion - I want more entries MOAR! :-D)

JudasFm

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What time zone would that be? I've nearly finished my other entry but I don't want the contest to close while I'm still writing it :(

Sinitrena

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I usually go by hawaiian time - when the date is gone everywhere in the world. So technically, I should close the competition now.

But I guess we can wait a bit longer: 24h more from this post, going by the timestamp of the forum. But that is the last extansion.

Baron

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I'll reveal the solution after the voting, since otherwise the speculation phase will needlessly delay us further. 

@ Everybody:  Don't forget to speculate on who killed Dr. Bertie Partridge when you vote! :) 

JudasFm

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Just made it!

Done for Petty Deity. I'm not sure how closely I managed to follow the rules though...it's more of a snippet than an actual story :-[

It's not easy being a goddess.

People usually think, "Ooh, immortality, divine powers, hordes of worshippers sending you goodies every day!" And, well, yeah, there is some of that.  But it's a two-way street: if we don't make with the miracles, sooner or later people stop making with the goodies.

My name's Stephanie.  I used to be mortal.  All of the Pantheon were once; you know the story, I'm sure.  As a human, Rae, Queen of the Pantheon, journeyed through the Dreamlands in search of her sister's and when she found her, she traded her soul for her sister's.  Her sister went home, Rae stayed in the Dreamlands and her power gradually grew and grew until she became a goddess.  Yadda yadda yadda.

Anyway, Rae soon figured out that all the races – elves, dwarves, humans, centaurs, Eyriens, Nurani etc – were just too much for one omnipotent deity to handle, so she picked her favorite Devotee and promoted her to goddess.  It sort of snowballed from there.  Now we have the Pantheon – twelve major goddesses – and lots of minor ones like me. People in these towns barely know I even exist, which is why I'd been rather surprised to be recognized by someone in the Adventurers' Barracks of Adutho while hunting for miracle ideas.

Oh, what, you think it's easy coming up with those things in a world full of magic?

I studied the human in front of me who had dared to speak my name. Early twenties. Adventurer. Archer. Name Mark Siemanns.

"Cower at my feet, mortal!" I commanded.

Mark went back to fletching arrows. "Sorry, I'm a little busy right now. Maybe next time, okay?"

No respect. I get no frigging respect!

"My powers are unbridled over my dominion!" I shouted.

Mark didn't so much as blink.  "Yes, my Lady.  I'm well aware of that.  However, forgive me but your dominion is, well, rather restricted. With all due respect, it does seem to me as though Our Dark Lady was running out of ideas when your turn came to be deified."

I waited for Rae to smite him for blasphemy for that little comment. She didn't. Typical. I bet Caitlin would have done, although mortals don't mention her name at all, or even let their thoughts dwell on her if they can help it. Not that I can blame them. I mean, she creeps us out too.

I tried again. "I am the undefeated ruler of the Golden Wheels, the Sacred Holes and gleaming Sapphire Veins!"

"Yes," Mark said again in the same politely neutral tone. "Again, my Lady, with the greatest respect, I would venture to suggest that you're not undefeated so much as unchallenged."

"My dominion is vast, spread throughout all of Elbia! There is not a home anywhere where my bounty is not bestowed or desired, from the richest kings to the poorest shack!"

"Yes, I can well believe that too.  But—"

"All partake in my glorious bounty!" Or should that be 'partake of'? I can never quite remember. I made a mental note to look it up when I got back to the Panland. "I am the goddess of...of…"

Mark waited for me to finish the sentence and then, when I didn't, filled in for me.

"Cheese."

Well, of course it would sound silly if he said it like that! I would have made it sound much more ominous. You know, deep, booming voice, a little roll of thunder, maybe darken the room a little and draw the word out – "Cheeeeese!" – like that.

Oh stop smirking! If you know of a more dramatic way to say cheese, I'd like to hear it, that's all. I'd tried doing a booming laugh after it once or twice before my friend Chandra (goddess of ice) had an attack of hysterics. I really need to start hanging out with some more sympathetic deities.

I was still pissed at Mark's complete lack of reverence though, and so I turned his chair into cream cheese before I vanished. Sometimes, even being a petty deity has its perks.


Sinitrena

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Re: Fortnightly Writing Competition: SECOND CHANCE! (Voting)
« Reply #33 on: 12 Nov 2017, 14:05 »
Alright, that's it. The deadline is here and our entries are in:

Too Deep by Rocchinator for Impossible Escape! set by Baron
Wafts of Mist by WHAM for Wafts of Mist set by Sinitrena
Wikitravel Entry: The Nemesis by JudasFm for Travel Guide set by JudasFm
Ghost of the Pleistocene by Baron for Whodunnit! set by Baron
It's not easy being a goddess by JudasFm for Petty Deity set by Baron


Now, it is time to vote in the following categories:

Best Character: The most interesting, fazinating, unnerving, unusual person, persons or personalities.
Best Plot: The order of things and what is happening.
Best World: A world that is more than an empty stage.
Best Style: The technical aspect of writing - interesting turns of phrases, good descriptions, ect.
Best Use of the Original Topic: Most faithful or creative, it doesn't matter. Who did best with the topic they chose.

You have one vote per category and votes are given for a story, so please specify in JudasFm's case which story you vote for. I'll treat them as if they were written by two seperate people.

Voting is open 'till the end of 16 Nov. 2017.


Trophies are in the works. Baron, JudasFm, I appropriated your trophies from the original topics to create a new one, I hope you don't mind. If you do, just let me know, I can still change the design.


Edit: And don't forget to speculate for Baron's story!
« Last Edit: 12 Nov 2017, 14:15 by Sinitrena »

WHAM

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    • I can help with translating
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  • WHAM worked on a game that was nominated for an AGS Award!
Re: Fortnightly Writing Competition: SECOND CHANCE! (Voting)
« Reply #34 on: 13 Nov 2017, 20:53 »
Best Character: Ghost of the Pleistocene by Baron
Best Plot: Ghost of the Pleistocene by Baron
Best World: Wikitravel Entry: The Nemesis  by JudasFm
Best Style: Ghost of the Pleistocene by Baron
Best Use of the Original Topic: Ghost of the Pleistocene by Baron

Add spoiler tag for Hidden:
Oh, and I think the broad did it. Never trust a pretty lady, especially when they play dumb.

The only one I second-guessed myself on was the best use of original theme, where JudasFm had a solid shot with the travel diary thingie, but in the end it was the hard-broiled detectivey type that won my heart in there, too.

And so: Baron impressed me the most out of these stories, so a hefty load of votes goes his way! Congrats!
« Last Edit: 13 Nov 2017, 21:01 by WHAM »
My Fortnightly Writing Competition collected works
https://goo.gl/VUQbzU

Baron

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  • Rottwheelers
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    • Best Innovation Award Winner 2011, for the concept and management of SWARMAGS
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  • Baron worked on a game that was nominated for an AGS Award!
Re: Fortnightly Writing Competition: SECOND CHANCE! (Voting)
« Reply #35 on: 17 Nov 2017, 02:21 »
Sorry, I've been ridiculously busy with extra work in the evenings.  Is there a chance for a voting extension of a day or two to get me to the weekend?

Sinitrena

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Re: Fortnightly Writing Competition: SECOND CHANCE! (Voting)
« Reply #36 on: 17 Nov 2017, 03:31 »
Considering that only one person voted so far, I think it's necessary. Take your time, vote on the weekend, I'll close it sometime on Monday.

Question: How long do you all think we generally should leave the voting open? I'm never quite sure.

Gilbert

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Re: Fortnightly Writing Competition: SECOND CHANCE! (Voting)
« Reply #37 on: 17 Nov 2017, 04:46 »
Point: Give the voters a SECOND CHANCE!

(Sorry, just couldn't resist making this lame joke. :=)

Rocchinator

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Re: Fortnightly Writing Competition: SECOND CHANCE! (Voting)
« Reply #38 on: 17 Nov 2017, 18:47 »
Best Character: Wikitravel Entry: The Nemesis by JudasFm for Travel Guide set by JudasFm
Best Plot: Ghost of the Pleistocene by Baron for Whodunnit! set by Baron
Best World: The Nemesis by JudasFm for Travel Guide set by JudasFm
Best Style: Wafts of Mist by WHAM for Wafts of Mist set by Sinitrena
Best Use of the Original Topic: Ghost of the Pleistocene by Baron for Whodunnit! set by Baron

Baron

  • Mittens Serf
  • AGS Baker
  • Rottwheelers
  • Not-so-Evil Banana Dictator
    • I can help with AGS tutoring
    •  
    • Best Innovation Award Winner 2011, for the concept and management of SWARMAGS
    •  
    • I can help with voice acting
    •  
  • Baron worked on a game that was nominated for an AGS Award!
Re: Fortnightly Writing Competition: SECOND CHANCE! (Voting)
« Reply #39 on: Yesterday at 00:49 »
I'm not going to speculate on my own entry, but I'd encourage you to before voting is up!

Best Character: JudasFM for Stephanie, Goddess of Cheeeeeese!  I love it when the mighty are revealed to be just as frail and petty as the rest of us.
Best Plot: WHAM for an eerie tale that sucked you in like a twisting tendril of zombie mist!
Best World: Rocchinator for the otherworldly ocean depths.
Best Style: WHAM for some great mood-setting word choices.
Best Use of the Original Topic: JudasFM for "It's Not Easy Being a Goddess."  I'm probably partial because I chose that topic, but this is the kind of quirky and fun story that I envisaged when I set the rules.