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Found 7 results

  1. Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, robots and writers of all shapes and sizes gather round! Welcome to the Official CTF Monthly Writing Challenge! *Grandiose Theme Music* Alright guys, so I've heard it expressed a number of times in the last few years that many of see RPGs (my personal writing love) not only as a fun thing to do on the weekends (weekdays, wee hours of the night, on an iphone while in class...) but also as a way to improve our writing skills. The monthly challenge thread is really just a way to continue on in that tradition. I'm calling it a 'challenge' instead of a competition because while we certainly can discuss each others work, the point here is more for growth and improvement than any reward. Constructive criticism is encouraged here, but remember that at the end of the day the whole purpose of this particular forum is for a group of friends to write in a positive environment. Right. Here's how things are gonna run: On the 1st of each month (or close to it), I or another member with my permission will post a writing prompt or challenge for everyone to work on. Anyone can post an entry for that particular challenge anytime during that period (from one 1st to the next) but on the 1st of the next month, when the next challenge is issued that particular challenge will be closed. If there's enough interest, this may become a bi-weekly challenge and then things would turn over on the 1st and the 15th. Rules: 1. Unless otherwise stated, submissions should not exceed what can fit in one post on this forum. This isn't an insubstantial amount by any means but you should keep this in mind when making your submissions. 2. Entries may take any form. Short stories are wonderful. Poetry? Lovely! Fanfic? Go right ahead! (However, if you arn't using your original characters please state so at the top of your post). All genres and subjects are game (so long as it's CTF appropriate) and you're free to write however you wish! This thread is supposed to be about growing as a writer! No matter what medium that takes. 3. Watch your formatting. None of ya'll are bad at this, but these entries could potentially get long and giant blocks of text are hard to read. Keep in mind how the entry will read. 4. No Off Topic in entry posts! An entry is an entry only! However, feel free to discuss the current months challenge as much as you want in the thread. <3 5. Don't be afraid to asks questions or offer ideas for new prompts! Honestly, I've got about four or five 'challenges' in mind but I would love to hear your ideas! Especially since I don't really know what type of challenges y'all are looking for. 6. Entry is, of course, always optional. You don't have to submit an entry every month and its really no big deal if you never submit any at all. At this time, there arn't really "Winners" per say, but if this is something people want we can incorporate it in the future. 7. Every entry needs to include three things at the top in bold. 1. The title of the piece, 2. The Challenge Month and 3. The Challenge name. This is mainly so it's easier to see what's up. And thats it! So now.... *drumroll*..... The first official CTF Monthly Writing Challenge!
  2. Jesusismyticket

    The Healing Cakery

    Hello everyone reading! Before I begin you should know... I am writing this with the writer's group Shasta Daisy began. The plot is my original idea, and they will add a few things to it. Nonetheless, the story is called The Healing Cakery. CHAPTER 1: Needing a Job Stacy Carlon was very surprised by her family choosing to move. Her father, Michael Carlon, came home from work and stared at his family one day. Stacy was on her smartphone, facebooking away while his wife was watching TV. Truly, his Godly home had become one of the world. He spent a week praying upon the situation. God led him to believe a change of environment was best for them all. "Everyone, I have taken a job in Kansas. It's a fairly small town, and we're taking quite a pay cut, but I think it will be good for all of us." Tina Carlon looked in surprise at her husband. "We've lived in New York since we got married! Why the sudden change?" Stacy nodded in agreement with her mother, surprised by such a sudden and rapid idea of change. "We were so close and God orientated when we came, now we are obsessed with vanities and things of this world. Even I have become so. I prayed long and hard about this, and God pushed me to take this job. I think it'll only make us closer." "So here we go..." Stacy said, riding in the backseat of a loaded van. Oddly enough, her father did not take much with them. They chose a few necessities and figured they buy the rest when they arrived at the new home. It had been a long day. First off, they had to take a plane to get there, which Stacy always hated plane travel. She rather ride upon a boat. When they finally pulled up to the house, Stacy gasped in horror. "How old IS this house dad?" She exclaimed. Her father laughed. "It's a classic home for sure. It'll need a lot of caretaking, but we can put a little TLC into it." Her mother however, felt the same as Stacy. "We lived in a beautiful home in New York City only to move into THIS piece of junk?" She shook her head. Michael Carlon was unphased by his family's complaints, and continued to unload the car. "Come on now, I cannot do this alone!" The first week the Carlon family slept upon the floor, waiting for the furniture to come bit by bit. By the second week, they were settled in, but their savings took a big hit. "We're practically broke!" Tina shouted at her husband. "Yes, but I expected this. It'll take us a lot of hard work to earn back what we had. It will humble us." He winked at his beloved wife. Stacy had already taken a liking to the new home she put a lot of love into. She painted some cute images onto her wall and it felt like she built it up herself. "I can help...I could find a job somewhere. Part-time." Her parents looked at her. Her father smiled at her. "I'm proud of you, you don't have to, but you can. I recommend finding something you'd like to do though if you have options." Her mother felt a bit differently. "Our daughter should not have to work like this!" Stacy budged in. "Mom, stop. I actually like it better here. The people are friendlier and the town is full of opportunity. Why can't you adjust to that?" Her mother hushed herself, and simply said "Do as you wish Stacy." Stacy got upon her bike and went about town, looking for places who offer part-time jobs. She came upon a shop she never seen before outside of the town. "Hilda's Cakery" the sign said. Below it had today's special as strawberry-filled donut, fresh out of the garden. She decided to walk inside, after all, she loved baking! As she walked in, she was greeted by an odd looking boy. "Hello!" He shouted in an odd tone. "Um, hi. Is the manager here?" She asked gently. The boy nodded. "I'm...Sith." A girl came up from behind swiftly. "Seth, his name is Seth." She smiled. "And I'm Mariah. Are you looking for Miss Hilda?" Stacy nodded, smiling. The girl ran to the back to get Miss Hilda, while Stacy was left with Seth. "Miss Hildy says I have down syndrum. It don't make much sense to me...I am up." Stacy giggled slightly, realizing the boy wasn't really taught too well. "Well, I'm Stacy, and I'm up too." "Yay! I am the greetor. I greet all the people, and I take ordors some of the time." He smiled at her. Mariah came back with an elderly lady. The lady smiled at the girl. "Hello there, I am Miss Hilda. I own the cakery. Can I help you? Did dear Seth drop something again?" Stacy laughed a little. "Oh no, it isn't that, I am looking for a job." Miss Hilda smiled. "Wonderful, we need a cupcake girl." "A cupcake girl? What would I do?" "You bake and decorate the cupcakes. I've grown a bit too old to do it myself now, but I can teach you easily. Can you start tomorrow after you finish your school dear?" "Of course! I'd love too!" (FOR THE WRITERS GROUP OT: I have left some room for you to take in a few ideas yourself, feel free to add some things. )
  3. Shasta Daisy

    Ask A Bookworm

    I didn't see any threads like this here, so I thought I'd start one. If you are thinking of getting a book or reading a book, but don't know how it's going to be, you can just use this thread to ask about it, and if anybody on this forum has read it they can tell you what they liked, and/or what they didn't like, about the book in question, and also if it had any questionable content some people might be worried about. If nobody answers a post, that probably means that nobody here has read the book in question. But if you have read the book, please feel free to talk about it. I have a book on which I would like to know your opinions before reading it, called Troubling A Star, by Madeleine L'Engle. I have read her book A Wrinkle In Time, and did not end up liking it very much, but this one seems like it might be more my style. Has anybody here read it? What did they like/dislike about it?
  4. Saw this on facebook. If this isn't okay to post on the forums, you can go ahead and lock it, or I'll just delete it. Thought it was interesting. Color where your scars are and use the different colors to tell what kind they are (as stated in the picture). Save the image then use paint to do it, obviously. At least, that's what I did. Mine: (You probably already realize this, but just a reminder, if someone doesn't wanna talk about where/how they got their scars, don't pester them kbye.)
  5. Just post anything that happened, we will discuss. XD What happened to me today...I saved a little life in the form of Swan-Ox the calf. Here's what happened, My uncle and I went to the field in the farm truck to check upon a cow that was acting as if she was going into labor around 11 this morning, we looked and behold...she had it right next to the creek...and it had fallen into the creek. The calf was atleast a few hours old and if it stayed in there any longer it would without a doubt die. We almost had it pulled out by the front feet when it slipped. We went and grabbed some gear, a rope, few posts/sticks, etc. After a exhausting hour and a half workout we got the baby out safe. Now was the worst part. Waiting to see if the baby would choke to death over the lack of air from the rope, or if it didn't get any milk and die. We helped Swan-Ox to her feet and stayed back so momma...who was wonderful and stayed right behind us while we worked instead of getting mad...she stood right behind me and breathed on the back of my head the whole time...could lick her dry and feed her. Mission to save Swan-Ox so far...successful. Just to play the waiting game and pray for the best. So, once again, what happened to YOU today?
  6. This is a prologue to a story I was working on. Feedback would be appreciated. A man walked out of an old, brick building. The cold, night wind hit him, sending a shiver down his spine. The dim light poles stretched their light beams into the darkness, trying to light as much space as possible. The man walked toward his car. He walked in and out of the pools of light, his pupils constantly dilating as a result. He walked up to the car and placed his hand on the hand reader. “Identification: Mr. James Dwight. Access granted.” The computer read in a monotone voice. James could hear the click of the car unlocking. He got into the car and set his briefcase on the rider’s seat. He opened it to make sure everything was there. He shuffled through the multiple information discs. One was missing. Where was it? He remembered he had left it in the lab room in the basement. They usually use the typical meeting rooms; however they had been filled so they had used the old, large lab room down in the basement. James grimaced at the thought of going back down there. The building had been used for a secret lab for scientists who performed illegal experiments. Luckily the scientists had been caught almost fifteen years ago. Now it was a substitute room for when there wasn’t enough space otherwise. The place gave him the creeps. Though most of the experimenting equipment had been taken out, except for the ancient flat screen TV, it still had such an eerie feeling hanging over it. He set his hand on the hand scanner for the building. Just like the one on his car, it stated his identification. The door unlocked and slid open. The lights turned on as he walked under them, their sensors blinking a bright red. Once he was out of the sensor’s range the light turned off. The elevator had been shut off almost two hours ago, meaning he’d have to take the stairs. Stairs were quite a rare thing to see anymore, but the building had been built before the War so they were no stranger in this building. James started down the stairs, his shoes clicking on the marble. His hand gripped the stainless steel rail that had been painted to look old and rustic in its original design was wearing off, as it probably had been for the past hundred years. Although he had started at the ground floor there were many flights of stairs. That’s why the scientists weren’t found out for many years. James finally reached the basement, his breathing heavier. James was in pretty good shape, but those stairs still took it out of him. As he stood there for a moment, catching his breath he heard something, voices perhaps? He went to the wall that held the door to the lab room. He cautiously placed his ear near the cold, metal door. Talking, that’s that he heard, but he couldn’t quite make it out. James pressed his ear against the door to see if he could hear any better. “Just one more small dose of this and she’ll be finished,” came a semi-familiar voice. James situated his hand on the doorknob and not being familiar with them, he opened the door accidentally. He fell down onto the floor with a thud. He looked up to see a young girl lying assumingly asleep on a long metal table, strapped down with metal clamps on her arms, legs, and across her waist. She only looked around seven. A man in a long, white lab coat was giving a shot to the girl’s arm. Other men in lab coats turned toward him. James’ heartbeat sped and he started to get up, but was grabbed by one of the men. They nodded to each other. The scientist who had given the girl the shot went over to a keypad and typed in something. He placed the needle into a small slot and the empty shot bottle started to fill up with a purple liquid. “Wait.” One man spoke up, his glasses reflecting the bright light from the LEDs. He smiled a lopsided smile, his eyes shining with pride. “Let’s let our creation do it for us.” A man, who looked older than the others walked over to the sleeping girl, unstrapped her and nudged her. Her ice blue eyes awakened. The older man motioned for her to slide off the table. Slowly, while scanning her surroundings, she slid off the table. The scientist with the shot handed the shot to her. “Kill.” He said pointing to James. The girl looked at the shot, tilted her head, and ever so slightly pressed on the back. A small drop squeezed out and fell onto the floor. The purple liquid hissed as it came in contact with the floor. The liquid continued a violent hissing until a circumference of five inches and a depth of around three inches had been completely dissolved into thin air. The girl’s eyes widened. She looked at James, imagining what it would do to him. She dropped the shot and backed away. The older man stabbed her with a needle and injected a weird white liquid into her. The girl jolted after the needle had been taken out. Her ice blue eyes seemed to freeze over. The scientist repeated again: “Kill.” The girl picked up the shot bottle off the ground and started coming towards him. James tried to writhe away as she drew nearer. He kept squirming, thoughts of his wife ran through his head. What would happen to her? Finally he slipped out of the man’s grasp. He ran toward the door, but something pricked his back, stopping him. He heard a hissing noise. James yelled out in pain and fell to his knees. Burning, scorching pain seared his body. Suddenly his yelling stopped and he collapsed. The man with the glasses smiled and beamed with pride. “Good, she is ready.” He said. (Yes the girl killed the guy, no I don't support killing people nor am I trying to encourage it. The only reason she did was because of a sort of "mind control" which, later on she tries to fight.)
  7. I cried... This happens way too often in America, and the world... And it needs to stop. Now.