the dragon's den | Vipera Prompt Event

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ROUND 15 Prompt Options

Poll ended at Sat Feb 24, 2018 8:44 am

cult
2
17%
blackout
2
17%
vacant
0
No votes
identity
2
17%
filthy
6
50%
 
Total votes: 12
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**IMPORTANT UPDATE**

Fri Aug 25, 2017 1:43 am

  • i've recognized that quite a few of us are short for time lately, specifically this week so i'm extending the deadline for this week's prompt, 'regret' for another week! this week's focus is length so i understand how difficult it is to write something in just 5 days while we're all getting settled with school.
    further extensions on prompts is a matter still being discussed so that will be announced during the appropriate time. but for now, relax and know that you guys have another week to write up your prompts for 'regret'. :) prompts are now due friday, september 1st.

    thank you and i hope to see some prompts!
i'm color coding my moods
────────────────────
time: 9/10 xx muse: 5/10
search: TBA
finished my semester.
will be looking to add/continue rps

follow my AS twitter for any updates!

────────────────────
you're yellow, i'm natural blue
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Re: the dragon's den | Vipera Prompt Event

Sat Aug 26, 2017 6:52 am

  • **Update: For the time being (starting this week), I am extending the time to write/post prompts to two weeks. You now have from Monday to Friday of the next week to post prompts, comment in the Common Room and vote in the polls. This rule is subject to change depending on prompt type and time of year but during busy school weeks, I'm giving you more time to write :)

    Again- from now on, until further notice, the time allotted for prompts is two weeks instead of the normal one.
    Our rules will stay the same to save me from having to edit every mention of the week long time slot, so I posted this reminder to the top of the first post.
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cognomen
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week four - regret

Sun Aug 27, 2017 9:54 am

✂- - - - - REGRET
full document. i think i got in a little over my head with this story and the time i had available...i wish i had enough space to give nox a proper narrative. hopefully it will be likable regardless c:
______________________________________________________________________________________________
    • epigraphThe son of moon, the daughter of sun,
      epigraphOne will unite, one will rend,
      epigraphWe know only that, upon their birth,
      End days have begun.

      epigraphThe nevernight will fall,
      (Can you hear him, now? Death?)
      epigraphKnock, knock, knocking on your skull?

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week five | regret

Sat Sep 02, 2017 8:33 am

    • Image
  • "I just don't want to be left behind..."

    this is a little slice of life between two characters, gemma & jude.
    it's been a while since i've written jude and i just love him.
    click the title to go to the full document

    Image
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halloween event! (and an added 8th focus week!)

Sun Sep 03, 2017 7:02 am

  • hey! recently we we've discussed what we should do as an 8th focus for the vipera prompt event so i got down to some brainstorming and realized something. due to our extended weeks, our first 8th focus will be somewhere in the beginning of october. perfect time for a halloween event.
    • for this event, i will provide your five normal prompts like the beginning of a normal prompt week. the prompts will be spooky/halloween themed (i will avoid using cliche or fluffy words). however, unlike a standard week, you will not have to vote on any of the prompts in the poll. every prompt is there for you to use at your discretion; write on as many of them as you'd like (include multiple prompts in one entry, write several separate short stories, etc.). there will be no general word limit but if you do choose to write an entry for every prompt the word limit is 1500 words per prompt which still gives you 7500 words in total. otherwise, you're free to write as much as you'd like.
      the last bit of the event is to include a link to a song/soundscape that inspired or fits the prompt(s) you chose. for this, you can include as many songs as you'd like- this step is optional but encouraged to help flesh out your world/story. plus, it's fun to listen to spooky halloween music.
      i will also be allotting everyone more than enough time for this event: you will have all of october to write your pieces and make them the best you can. you are encouraged to be as creepy/gross as possible*
      at the end of october, i will put up a poll for you to vote on your favorites from the halloween event. this poll will be open until the end of the week of halloween and will officially be closed on sunday, november 5th.

    for regular weeks that fall on the 8th focus, there will not be any required prompts (however, i may still provide a list as inspiration). you also will not have any word limits during this week (unless you plan on writing several short stories, then the limit is still 1500 words per piece). you are free to write anything you wish during this week. during regular 8th focus weeks, the allotted time is two weeks.
  • meanwhile, the event will continue on as usual with the next two focuses 'briefness' and 'comfort zone'.
Image

  • *please provide proper warnings for any content that may be disturbing/triggering to readers
i'm color coding my moods
────────────────────
time: 9/10 xx muse: 5/10
search: TBA
finished my semester.
will be looking to add/continue rps

follow my AS twitter for any updates!

────────────────────
you're yellow, i'm natural blue
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Week Five Favorite! EPITHET

Mon Sep 04, 2017 7:56 am

  • Congratulations to our Fan Favorite for Week 5 of the Vipera Prompt Event: epithet!
    Fantastic work on your prompt this week!
    I'm also very proud that you persevered through your tough school schedule. Thank you for your continued commitment to the event and congratulations on winning your very first week!
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week six - desire

Mon Sep 04, 2017 9:28 am

✂- - - - - DESIRE
yea, have some poorly-conceived, 2am science fiction!
______________________________________________________________________________________________
    • epigraphThe traveler walked a world of ghosts, their non-corporeal forms teeming in the streets of Sink Market. They shifted in and out of reality as they toggled their connection to the grounding coils decorating Est Street. Each coil was bound to a different era, the space in between them as dimensionless as the human conscience. There were vendors selling merchandise from the beginning of time to the end, but the traveler was interested in no vendor.
      epigraphShe passed a man phasing into the non-dimension, her eyes closed as she followed the map downloaded into her brain. The traveler knew to keep to the blur within the shadows—Sink Market resided in the shadiest bowels of the universe, but the UCoR had eyes everywhere. The traveler would go to the ends of eternity to put an end to UCoR, and they knew it.
      epigraphIn Sink Market, she would find the coyote. He would open doors for her that she could not open for herself. If the stories were true, he would do anything for a price. There was no other soul in the universe that would be so greedy to take her into the quarantine zone.
      epigraphShe found him on the edge of the city. He stood on the dock, hands propped on his hips as he stared toward the five moons of Gyn’Sen. When she was no less than fifty paces from the smuggler, his ears swiveled back. His right hand dropped to his belt. The traveler grounded herself to the coil that the coyote was on.
      epigraphThe hazy lines of the surrounding buildings melted into seven-thousandth century architecture. It made sense—he was one of the youngest century’s creations. The traveler pulled her hood back to reveal her face. “I have heard stories…about the coyote?”
      epigraph“What is it that you’ve been hearing?” His back remained to her.
      epigraphThe traveler’s fingers knotted together, twitching anxiously together. “You take people where they need to go.”
      epigraph“Hmm…and where’s this, huh?”
      epigraph“Earth.”
      epigraphThe coyote’s reaction was violent. He swiveled on her, his elongated jaw gaping around a single word. “Earth?” The guttural muck in the back of his throat dripped with utter bafflement. He believed her to be insane. They all did.
      epigraph“Twenty-seven mil.”
      epigraph“That’s—wow. You serious?”
      epigraph“Yes.”
      epigraphHe puffed up his cheeks, shaking his head as he released a long breath. “Yeah, yeah. That can be done. Twenty-seven mil?” He snorted to himself. “I’d fuck the head of UCoR for twenty-seven mil. Damn.” The coyote gave her a once-over, shook his head again, and gestured her to follow him. “Earth is under Level Ten quarantine, you know that?”
      epigraphIf he knew half of what she did, he wouldn’t be asking if she knew of the quarantine. The traveler had proof that UCoR intended to release the fatal disease into the general population…aging. They had a cure, and intended to make citizens pay for their youth. The traveler had to find a cure first, even if it meant exposing herself.
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Fae
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Re: the dragon's den | Vipera Prompt Event

Wed Sep 06, 2017 10:40 pm

:: ::
warnings: extreme violence and cannibalism
      • His fingers slithered like worms through the underground passages of her skin, burrowing, tunnelling for the precious muscles packed neatly though the delicious epidermal wrapping paper of his victim's surface. Salvia pooled under Horacio's tongue and overflowed the confines of his mouth as his fingernails peeled open the pretty package and revealed the feast contained within. He had planned this moment for so long, rehearsed it over and over in his mind. Horacio had watched her for months. The way she moved... Sherlyndria StClaire: the most beautiful girl in all the world. When her hips would sway and her lips would pout it was as if she was begging him to deconstruct her. When her throat bobbed as she laughed he wanted to slice it down the middle and quench himself on the ruby cascades pouring from her open arteries. Horacio could barely contain himself from forcing her to the ground and chewing her plump lips right off that doll like face when they dared to smile.

        It had been surprisingly easy to lure Sherry into his trap and subsequent open mouth. He had followed her to the night club, waited patiently as his little partridge drank herself into a stupor (her little weakness he'd observed) and tricked her back to his apartment with a charming smile, a friendly word, the promise of a safe bed for the night. That was where she lay now: sprawled like a broken mannequin upon the sheets, legs and arms all at awkward angles from Horacio snapping them like spindly twigs. Oh how the melody of her strangled screams had fed his appetite. It sent him into a maddened frenzy and in the fog of his hunger all control had been lost. He'd planned to eat her alive: to savor her fear as he feasted on her flesh. But in his loss of control the young man had plunged a butchers knife into her throat and drank from the bloody fountain that bubbled from the forbidden well he'd created.

        When Horacio finally came to his senses he was furious at Sherry. What a mess the stupid bitch had made! And he couldn't even make her clean it up! A growing panic began to form in Horacio's mind as he began to ponder how to dispose of his accident. He had been so caught up in the idea of consuming the body that the consequences? Those hadn't even be considered. Horacio wouldn't let them take him away, lock him up like an animal. Not now it was so obvious he couldn't survive without bodies to eat. That was clear now. The young man stumbled back in horror from the dismembered body, realizing his mistake. "YOU MONSTER! YOU DID THIS!" He bellowed hatefully at it. That bitch had ruined his life! Stolen it! There was no going back now. Not back there! Not to them! Horacio stumbled towards the window and desperately thrust it open.

        There was no nobody to care as he tossed himself out.
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.faunlet.
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week six: desire

Thu Sep 07, 2017 2:14 am

Image xxxx D E S I R E (some canoodling, not explicit) xxxx
xxxx
There were weeds sprouting from every age-old brick. The walls had sunken low into the ground and the roof sloped downwards, casting a pale shadow onto the yellow flowers below. Nestled in the folding green hills of the country (where prying eyes would be loath to find them) Carina and Evie were completely and utterly alone.

Alone save for each other.

A slim glimmer of light shone through the windowpane, illuminated the women’s bodies where they lay on their white linen in total bliss, sleepily holding each other in their soft, freckled arms. They were so close they could breath the same breaths. Lips almost touching-

Yet not quite.

As if the gentle hand of slumber had parted them, ever so slightly.

Stirred by the morning’s first tentative rays, Carina’s blonde eyelashes had futtered open and she bent her head to nuzzle the kisspoint at the base of Evie’s neck. With a soft breath she inhaled the earthy scent of her lover. She smelt like meadow grass and the outside, and yet still she smelt like home. And the thought made her fall to pieces with adoration.

They consumed each other like dying men struggling for dear life. As if they had been starving their entire lives and had only now found their oasis in the desert. They writhed with intense longing and yearning as if they only existed where they two touched and pressed and felt each other-

And the rest was rust and stardust.

Time and space seemed nonexistent here. All that was physical and material and solid stretched out into the void. All that mattered was the Here and Now.

Carina and Evie.

Love and Joy.

Carina was always the bolder one. Playful and impish, she would always challenge Evie bourgeois assumptions of what was Good or Bad or Too Far. So when the mirror in the sky had shown its silver face once again and the heavens were raining with furious anger, it was Carina who first pranced out the door, headfirst into the downpour (followed by a few mild protests from Evie), stripping off in the process. Naked as the day she was born, Carina danced and spun and they both laughed until their ribs got sore.

But after a night of crying and laughing and gathering flowers of every colour of the rainbow to carefully place in every lock of their hair, even down there (Carina’s suggestion no doubt), the next morning came. As day turns to night and pleasure turns to poison, all things must come to their end.

With slow, legarthic movements the pair redressed themselves. Their joy and passion was snuffed out. A suffocating sheet of depression fell on them. The knowledge of love that would never see the light of day.

“I don't when we can see each other again. I don't even know if we can.” Evie began to weep quietly, removing the last pansy from her reddish hair.

“If we got tomorrow then at least we got something.”

That morning they were not together, nor touching, nor existing. They divided at the doorstep, to tread across the moors again.

Home.

To lie for their men again.
Last edited by .faunlet. on Sat Sep 16, 2017 11:16 am, edited 1 time in total.
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angelofwarfare
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Week Six- Desire

Thu Sep 07, 2017 5:52 pm

ImagesirenImage
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sirenSilk tresses reminiscent of a raven's feathers flow past her freckled shoulders, with the oddity of a seashell clamp to tie half of this abundance of hair. Her eyes resemble the deep blue hues of the oceans far beyond the isle, and it held a sparkle of curiosity to whom she spoke to. The words that flowed off her tongue held its own grace, for every word that left plush lips was a note to the siren's song. Her skin is sun-kissed from the ample time she spends at the shorelines. There is an unearthly beauty about her, and the honeyed words that can captivate any mortal soul.

sirenShe waits for a single ship whose sails are bathed in sunset orange. Alas, she could wait for his return. The nights she did not count, but such time did not go to waste. A galleon is tied to the port, and the sailors and their captain drunkenly stumbles into one of the bountiful taverns such a port has to offer to their patrons aside from the brothels and whatever else they may spend their gold coins. She has heard the whispers upon the waves about the travels of their wooden ship, and where such waves have carried them off to. They were alike the countless pirates that raided the ships of noble-blooded men, and any other prizes that sated their desires. Her fingers slowly push aside a curtain strung of beads, with her cerulean blue eyes flitting to a single figure drinking his ale. He sits alone, and while time may have passed them by, she recognizes his distinct features. A playful smile pulls at the corners of her lips, as she allows herself to take the seat beside him. She raises her delicate hand to gently brush his shoulder, and her eyebrow quirks with her head tipping slightly back. Every single move she makes has purpose to it. Her hand moves past his shoulder, so that her arm rests upon broad shoulders. It didn't take long for the sailor to close the small space between them to crush his lips against hers.

sirenIt is a kiss that is rough at first, only for him to seize. His face grows pale, as the air that his lungs greedily tries to inhale grows to be a lost cause. She watches from where she is seated, with her arm moving to her side. His face transitions to a shade of blue, as he gasps for air. And as she watches this, she smiles from his suffering. "I'll never forget the day you threw me from the rails of your ship. The captain's order you informed me. No women on the ship, lest it leads to bad luck." she begins to say with her charm void in her voice, only to be replaced with a deep resentment."A helpless maid I was. Left to drown in the waters with my feet bound.Oh,how foolish to sail with brutes such as yourself. You let the sea claim me." she continues with eyes narrowing like daggers."It was only fair that I have done the same." she concludes while she removes the seashell hairpiece that kept her long locks in control. She sets it near his writhing body that is slumped against the table, and without an ounce of remorse to her action, she leaves without a trace.




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