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72 Reviews



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Sun Oct 01, 2017 4:19 am
ChieRynn says...



IM ALMOST DONE LIKE ANOTHER 20 MINS probably
“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”
- Faramir
  





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Sun Oct 01, 2017 4:20 am
Kaylaa says...



@Lumos Missed ya in my last post, but thanks for trying! You too, @Lael!

A question to everybody who participated/signed up in general: Would more notifications more often have been helpful for helping you to remember to write/submit your submissions?

Will Review For Food - Always taking review requests!

Discuss the last piece of media you consumed in Media Reviews!


Formerly Nikayla
  





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72 Reviews



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Points: 270
Reviews: 72
Sun Oct 01, 2017 4:24 am
ChieRynn says...



probably
“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”
- Faramir
  





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72 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 270
Reviews: 72
Sun Oct 01, 2017 4:59 am
ChieRynn says...



HERE

There Once Was a Dragon
“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”
- Faramir
  





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Sun Oct 01, 2017 5:13 am
EternalRain says...



Here's mine! The story is enspoilered below.

Spoiler! :


Raindrops and Teardrops

Everyone begged for the drought to end until the rain came.

It hasn’t rained in Arelia in fifty years. Today is the third day of non-stop rain. Stories that are told to us younger generations go something like this: a group of people sinned and upset the rain goddess, never atoned for their sins, and the rain goddess was upset ever since; punishing our land with a long lasting drought.

But three days ago, the rain goddess, Orani, gave us rain.

But the problem is: it’s not rain. It’s poison-rain. And if anyone is touched by it, they die.

It took us a while to realize. Yesterday, actually. Communication was sent out to everyone in any way possible - through mail, messengers, signs on streets. Tons of people have died. More are injured. Hospitals are full. No one goes outside.

Mama, Lottia, and I have just stayed inside. We have lots of fresh food in the pantry as well as food packets stored away for purposes like these. It’s probably enough to last the three of us three months.

I’m in my room now, staring out the window. I wish I could be out there, dancing in the wind, singing songs. Gods, I wish it so bad. But the rain is poison, and if it touched me for a second I might die.

Our cottage is cozy - leaving it is dangerous, but feeling rain is so tempting.

There’s nothing outside. I live in a small cluster of cottages, well below the king’s castle. There’s a river - probably flooded - down the road quite a ways, and a well where we normally retrieve water.

The king sent out most of his troops to attend to people. They were special armor plus protection on any shown skin. I’ve seen them walk around - they fetch us water, though we have a big supply in our house as well. They were the ones to let us know what was going on. A young man had knocked on our door, wearing a weird plastic covering, and told us what was happening.

It was scary. It is scary. It’s only been two nights and I heard Lottia whimper in her sleep on our shared cot both of those nights.

Lottia comes in the room. She’s wearing her nightgown and has her hair pulled back with a bow. She’s two years younger than me - fourteen. Usually she’s happy and kind, but all I see in her is anguish and fear.

I pat the side of the cot I’m sitting on.

Lottia comes over, sits down, and sighs. We both look out the window, staring at the rain that is never ending.

We’re silent for a while, and then Lottia says, “You think it’s ever going to stop?”

“The rain?” I ask, though of course I know what she means. She doesn’t say anything, just stares out the window. “Maybe.”

“Orani really hates us,” Lottia muses, and flops on to her back.

“Guess so.”

Lottia pulls her eyes from the cottage ceiling to me, and she looks defeated. “Tell me you haven’t considered it, Liana.” Lottia has to gesture to the rain to help me realize what she means.

“I haven’t.”

My sister gives me a good “I doubt that” look. It’s true. I did think about it. Stepping outside, in the rain. What would happen... but I would never do it.

“I want to feel rain,” Lottia says with a sigh.

I nod. “Me too.”

“I want it to stop.” Lottia rolls over onto her stomach and stares at her pillow. I haven’t moved since she’s come in.

I’m about to say “me too” again when I see Sonna, the girl who lives in the cottage across the street, wave through her bedroom window. I wave back at her. She disappears from view after a few moments, though, so I’m left again with my thoughts and sister.

When I’m staring out the window, I catch a glimpse of movement from across the street. It takes me a second to register the person slipping out of the front door. My eyes widen. Lyn is standing on the front steps of her cottage, covered by a stone balcony a floor up.

“Oh no. Sonna isn’t going in the rain, is she?” I ask Lottia, who scrambles up from her bed to pry out the window.

“Oh no, oh no, we have to do something,” I mumble, freaking out. Lottia is pounding on the glass frame, trying to get Lyn’s attention. Sonna hasn’t moved - she’s just staring at the rain. And she isn’t looking at our window.

“We need to stop her,” Lottia wails, slumping against the glass. She’s the crybaby and I’m the nervous wreck. We don’t make a very good combination.

My mind is whirling, trying to think of what to do. Would Sonna really go out in the rain? Or maybe she’s just admiring it. Maybe Lottia and I weren’t the only ones to consider it. We can’t let her die. She’s our friend.

I run to our front door, and open it carefully. Even what Sonna is doing now is dangerous - a gust of wind could blow and rain could splatter on you. I scream across to her, “What are you doing?”

From the distance, I can’t really tell, but it looks like she’s smiling. She wipes her hand across her cheek. Is she crying? Crying-smiling.

“Sonna!” I scream. “Go back inside!”

Sonna shrugs, wiping more tears off her cheeks with her shoulder. I grit my teeth, wanting so badly to walk over there, when I see a soldier down the path.

“Hey! We need your help!” I shout as loud as possible, waving my arms. I can’t read Sonna’s expression, but I hope she’s not mad at me.

The soldier walks closer to us and my heart is pounding so fast. All it takes is for her to take one step out. The soldier’s multiple steps away.

I groan, and as I’m waiting anxiously Lottia comes from behind. “Sonna!” She yells, waving wildly, pushing me to the side so she is in the door frame. “Sonna just stay there!”

The soldier comes closer. I recognize him as the younger one who came and told us about what was happening - he probably has a shift in our neighborhood. I point towards Sonna’s cottage and the soldier heads her way.

From across the road I can’t tell if she’s upset or grateful or what, but the soldier finally talks her into staying inside. When the door to her cottage closes, it feels like all my pinched tension is released. I let out a breath, and close the door.

“Wow. Hope she’s okay,” Lottia says under her breath.

I nod, peaking out the window again. The soldier’s still at her door. Sonna’s inside. Everything’s good.

~

“Liana,” comes a harsh whisper. I open my eyes slowly, trying to think. Middle of the night? Yes, I think so.

“Liana.” It’s Lottia, sitting up in her bed. “Liana, the rain.”

“What rain?” And it’s in that moment that I realize it’s not raining anymore. I glance at my sister, and we make eye contact. It’s quiet. There’s not pitter-patter of rain on the roof, no rain hitting the path outside.

“Huh?” I manage to whisper, the idea of no rain waking me up a bit more from my groggy self.

“Maybe Orani is no longer upset,” Lottia suggests.

“Yes, that’s probably it.” I’m too tired to even think. It’s so quiet. Non stop rain for nearly four days and now this? Maybe Orani feels bad.

Lottia and I both can’t go back to sleep. We’re afraid if we go back to sleep and the rain’s back in the morning, we’ll be upset. So we’re taking it in while we can.

When the sun starts to rise and the feeling of a new day - a new day without rain - is circulating through our bodies, Lottia and I race to Mama’s bedroom to wake her.

“Mama. The rain! The rain’s gone!” Lottia exclaims, shaking her body lightly. Mama wakes up, sitting up in bed fast. She’s completely different from both me and Lottia. She’s got her own sort of spunk.

“It’s gone,” Mama whispers, widening her eyes. She pulls her brown hair out from the bun she slept in and follows us out to the front of the cottage.

I open the front door. My breath catches. The roads are still wet, but the rain has stopped.

Mama goes off to the kitchen - breakfast, probably. Lottia and I just stare. Stare at our little street, at the castle up on the hill in the distance.

“Cool!” Lottia says, letting out a breath. From across the street, we see Sonna open her door. She is smiling. She looks so happy.

“Guys!” She cries, running out towards the road. She starts dancing in the middle of the road, avoiding the puddles of poison. Lottia, next to me, gives me a grin before running out next to Sonna.

They dance and dance; I’m about to join them.

“No!” Mama cries, coming out of the kitchen. She’s holding two glasses of water. The glass is trembling in her hand. I can see the water rippling. She sets down the glasses on the first table she sees and rushes to the doorframe, not stepping outside. “Lottia, get inside!” Mama yells.

Lottia stops dancing. She looks at us, confused. Lottia looks up at the sky and puts her palm out, like she feeling--

“Mama. Oh gods, Mama, oh no!” My heart drops.

Lottia and Sonna don’t move. It’s raining again, and they’re not moving.

“Lottia!” I try yelling, but my voice comes out almost as a whisper. I can’t see -- I can’t… breathe. My vision swirls and I lean against the doorframe for support, taking shaky breaths.

Lottia is moving towards our cottage. She’s coming closer…

Lottia falls to her knees, letting out a scream. I feel Mama’s hands squeeze my arm. On the road, Sonna and Lottia are falling. The rain’s falling. It’s getting harder - there’s so much of it.

Lottia crashes completely, and I can’t see anything anymore from my tears. I can’t feel Mama’s hands on my arm anymore.

Everything’s gone.

“Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.”

-- Lemony Snicket


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Sun Oct 01, 2017 12:10 pm
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Lightsong says...



A question to everybody who participated/signed up in general: Would more notifications more often have been helpful for helping you to remember to write/submit your submissions?


Um, not really. I remember the deadline all the time, so it's really just a matter of taking this seriously / ensuring you'll be able to send what you've promised. I think making some penalties to those who aren't able to send the stories would make them focus more on this.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





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Tue Oct 24, 2017 5:21 am
ChieRynn says...



When are the results announced?
“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”
- Faramir
  





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72 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 270
Reviews: 72
Wed Jan 03, 2018 1:12 am
ChieRynn says...



is this dead or did someone win
“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”
- Faramir
  





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Wed Jan 03, 2018 10:05 am
Kaylaa says...



@ChieRynn If I'm being honest, dead? I never got around to judging because life got pretty hectic during October and I totally forgot until this point, oops. I'm willing to give 2 reviews to all the participants for all the troubles now, though!

Will Review For Food - Always taking review requests!

Discuss the last piece of media you consumed in Media Reviews!


Formerly Nikayla
  








I see no reason to celebrate the random timing of natural events by eating poison and singing.
— Dilbert