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Challenges for V6
Oct 31 2014, 04:52 PM
Can I get a refresher/update on the challenge you gave me? I'm trying to focus on what your outlines for me were so I can start thinking of a profile.
This one sucks because I know we both liked the challenge, now I completely forget it. Hit me up on chat.

Challenges for V6
Fuck it, why the hell not. CHALLENGE ME. CHALLENGES. : D
Write a girl who knits/crotchets and sells her stuff online, but is deathly afraid of her classmates finding her out because of her shy nature. Also likes ponies but lacks the physical ability to ride them.

Blah blah blah ungrateful comment about challenges/demanding response for a new one/I'm the worst handler ever oh my god
Write a cinematographer kid who is constantly writing script ideas, submitting them online, and not reading any of the feedback for them. Has a ton of movies half-shot and half-edited, coasting on the dream that one day they'll be successful without having to put any work into it.

I am dumb
I forget too. Write a girl who lost a finger in a boating accident, and is a competitive angler.

Seth Crimson
Challenge please.
Write a dude who is a graffiti artist well known in the underground scene, who has been brought in for trespassing on multiple occasions, and is deathly afraid of the dark.



@Sansa: Gender don't matter, son! Take your pick.

@TBH: A fighting (boxing, kickboxing) or martial art (judo, Tae Kwan Do). Something specifically having to do with beating up dudes.

Challenges for V6
I thought the post rush was over. My mistake!

here is some challenges answered. Will respond to more as I go.

Challenges for V6
I would like to request another.
Write a school-smart wannabe illustrator who is somewhat traumatized by the fact that he and his younger brother tortured a fox to death when they were boys with matches.

Give me a challenge NAFT :D

(I mean I have my characters for V6 worked out but I can always incorporate things)
Write a boy who has held a part-time job in a nursing home for the last two years - since he was 15-16 - and witnesses the nursing staff stealing stuff from the elderly. He hasn't taken action yet. Bonus points if he decides to steal stuff, too.

Oct 31 2014, 04:30 PM
You gave me one where I had to write a bro, I think (baaaaaaaad memory right here), and Josh is totally gonna be one, so another one pleasseeeeee! I wanna shake things up for V6 even more! :D
I'd like you to write a very nasty person - someone who thinks terribly of everyone around them and is absolutely disgusted with any and all behaviour they'd consider beneath them. Bonus points if they're a scrawny weakling.

I don't think I have a challenge yet.

I want a challenge.
I'd like you to create a straight dude cheerleader with a good nuclear family, have him be the middle child, and have him learn that he's not getting into the college he wants due to poor grades just before the abduction.

Well you threatened to "slap the fuck out of" me in chat if I didn't ask for a refund, so... here we are? Consider it a bonus challenge maybe because I've already incorporated a lot of your first challenge into one of my v6 concepts and I'm going to test drive it at least through pregame.
Write a guy who was very very good at a fighting/martial art (pick one) but up to a year ago was injured badly enough in an unrelated stunt to ensure that he'd never play/fight again, forcing him to other hobbies.

I'd love one if you're up. My concepts tend to slide a llloootttt, so I can't promise I'll actually go through with it and want to give appropriate forewarning, but I'm always down for ideas.
Write a physically intimidating gentle giant, who isn't too book smart but picks up a lot of what he knows/understands via his hero-worship of his smarter, better looking, much smaller older brother.


*shifty look*

*slooooooowly scooches in*
Write a A-type personality baseball player dude, who feels like he could be a ladies-man if it weren't for a cripplingly devastating stage fright that sneaks up on him whenever he feels like things are going too well. Bonus points if the stage fright doesn't manifest in stuttering.

V6 Concepts Thread
Just as a quick catch-all critique:

I'm seeing a few character concepts that are what I refer to as 'Jack characters' - meaning a character that tries to be everything in terms of personality, while not honing in on any one particular character trait. An extreme example of this would be a character who cares for his friends but is really surly outwardly and lovey-dovey inwardly, and is super loyal but also pragmatic with relationships.

I'd suggest taking a character, shuffling all the outside information aside (sports, academics, etc) and focus on one positive trait, and one negative trait. Let these traits dictate their life - how they forge relationships, how they do in school, how they treat their parents - and then start delving into the surrounding information about their life.

This isn't aimed at any one person, just at a few concepts I've managed to catch while scrolling through.

Challenges for V6
Hey, SOTF.

So, for a little while now, I've been positing random, off the top of my head challenges to various people to write for future versions - mostly based on what I see as strengths and weaknesses in them as handlers, and they're tuned to either help fix what I see as potential holes in writing education. These are just for fun, and not intended as a criticism of any handler who volunteers for 'em.

If you want me to issue a challenge for you, post in this thread. I'll slap a challenge to ya and see if you want to pick up the gauntlet.

For those of you who have a challenge - this is the 'refund' thread if you don't like what I tossed you in the first place. If you like your challenge, feel free to post what it was.

Have at!

Tears in the Rain
A shrug was all he had to offer her in response, through aching jaw and cheek. Even if his mouth and face had been perfectly healthy - even if he'd been able to force words from his mouth - he'd have still come up short with an answer. How do you tell someone that they're the sole owner of a moment - a single moment - where you didn't feel attacked or damaged or destroyed? How do you convince them that, despite them causing you harm, they were someone that you could relate to? Possibly the only one left you could be understood by?

You don't, is the short answer. You just stand there.

You just shrug.

National Novel Writing Month 2014
I'm looking to launch a few new role play type things, and I'll be using NANO as an excuse to do a lot of legwork on it.

V5 Final Four/Endgame Discussion Thread
So, firstly! I want to thank everyone who's congratulated Decoy, Ares, Ruggahissy and I for making it to the end. You guys have been super nice and supportive about it, and while I don't speak for the other three lovely people involved, I'm sure we're gunning to do you all proud.

V5 has been a wild ride for all of us, and to see it coming to a close - not to mention being a part of it's finale - is such a feeling of awe-struck combined with sadness to see such a crazy experience end.

I hope you guys enjoy what we come up with. We'll work hard on it!

Tears in the Rain
"Nuh guh," he tried in response, squeezing her tighter against him, the motion bringing pain - face, arm, chest - singing through him before he let go, opened his arms.

"Nuh guh-honna hurt," swallow, as the saliva pooled at his shredded cheek, wetting the bandage covering his face. He scooted backwards, putting more distance between them. Another small, nice moment in the wake of chaos. The fact that they were both here - alive, well - was something he wasn't going to spoil, or destroy.

His time was slowly growing closer to being up, and in this moment, he only wanted to extend it. For both of them.

So instead, he tried smiling at her, half covered by the bandage wrapped around his face.

Tears in the Rain
Hansel stripped out of his hoodie, shrugging off the T-shirt beneath it as he watched, silent, as Mara's rage was demonstrated. He grunted, letting air out in a pathetic squeak as he flipped open the medkit, grabbing at gauze and cotton pads, disinfectant and bandages. Slowly, carefully, he pressed the cotton pads to the wound - fingers in a dam - and wrapped it all up, circling around and around his torso.

He was hard pressed to find a point on his body, now, that didn't drip blood and sing with pain, but it didn't have to be for much longer. He was almost there, almost to the end. Just needed to keep the dam from spilling over.

He tugged the white T-shirt back on, letting the hoodie lay where it fell, unsteadily climbed to his feet. He walked forwards, clutching at his freshest wound, feeling the hard bandage beneath his fingers, hearing the roar in his ears as he shuffled towards Mara.

Mara, the owner of probably the nicest moment he'd have - the last nice moment he'd experience - raging and ranting at the corpse beneath them.

He let her, for a moment, content to just watch and witness, feeling pleasantly hollow and emotionless as she shrieked and struck. For a moment, he was outside his head, his body, feeling delightfully numb and listless as he watched someone else be angry, someone else be hurting.

Then, he reached down, wrapping both arms around her, trapping her arms at her sides, and hauled back. Inhaled the scent of her hair - sweat, smoke, dust - and felt her against him for a brief moment, contact that wasn't violent, motions that weren't threats or anger.

He tried to speak, tried to say her name, but nothing - nothing but a croak - came out.

Tears in the Rain
As KK fell, Hansel fell above her, catching himself on his hands, spread on either side of her body as time and distance snapped back to their regular speed, the impact scraping at abused flesh. He was face to face with gory corpse and embedded knife for a moment, before rolling over on his back, facing the sky with the dead girl at his side.

He groaned, cupping his wound with both hands as the blood seeped from it, fever making his limbs shake, sweat pouring from his brow as he struggled to gain distance between him and the last standing obstacle - the very last big threat - between him and the finish line. When he managed to slide further away, he struggled to a seated position, still cradling the stab wound as he reached for his pack, a medkit, anything.

He heard footsteps approaching, and inwardly sighed, reluctantly looking to see the newcomer's face.

And for the first time in a long time, the sight made him smile.

Tears in the Rain
Fourteen days was a miniscule amount in the long run - a collection of two weeks, an amount of time for a due date, or for two episodes of that show you love to air. Fourteen days was a standard vacation for a full time job, the deadline for a newspaper article, how long it took you to draft your latest proposal for a film. Fourteen days was an important amount of time - not revolutionary, not fantastic, not in any way meaningful or long-term impactful.

But for him, in fourteen days, so much had changed. He'd lived, killed, fought, kissed, feared and raged. He'd been everything and nothing, rode hills and valleys of good intentions and terrible consequence. He'd been born again, steeled himself, survived more than he thought possible, more than he could've ever guessed. He was ready for anything after fourteen days.

Even death.

The knife arced towards him, and his eyes closed as it started its motion, thinking he was ready, this time.

But as its glint filled his peripheral, his eyes snapped back open, focusing on the blade as it moved - still like molasses - through the air.

And he realized, suddenly, that he wasn't ready.

Not yet.

Not here.

His left and right hands moved like lightning, grabbing KK's wrist and hand as he leaned backwards, the knife skimming past his chin as he dodged, and then he was pushing, using her own momentum to drive her hand backwards. She pushed, and met him hard, their hands quaking with the strain, pain singing through his left hand as he grit his teeth, pushed, fought, won as the knife gradually moved towards KK.

No impact. No sudden victory. Just the ever-present strain to win this encounter, and the soft, slow squelch as the knife slipped home.

Directly into KK's throat.

Tears in the Rain
Bullet wounds he was familiar with, but nothing he'd faced had prepared him for the rending flesh and thunk of bone as a knife sliding between his ribs. It filled him with a sudden, intense pain that had him crying out, his throat ripping with the roar as the Winchester came down on KK's head, slamming her backwards enough to have the little knife popping free of his chest.

Instantly, blood pooled, and that will do it floated around in his brain, scrambled for purchase as he staggered backwards, left hand, covered in gauze, clutching the fresh wound.

His vision swam, the fever burned, everything becoming burning and hot as he staggered backwards, curling into himself, a wounded animal. His fight with Mirabella flashing through his mind as he struggled to breathe beyond the pain.

This was it, he realized, the moment still slow, eons in moments.

He was done.

Tears in the Rain
He hadn't expected her to advance, but the surprise was one that came momentarily, barely enough to give pause. If KK wanted to speed her death, then Hansel wasn't one to argue with it. The sword in her hand was a threat, but he was confident, sure.

They met on open ground, and then the adrenaline, the time slowing, the distance lengthening - then it kicked in, a headache pulsing behind his right eyebrow, sweat pooling at his throat. He was aware of the taste of burnt wood and shell casings, of dew and bird shit clinging stubbornly over the scents and tastes of war. He smelled his own blood, pooling in his mouth through the hole in his face, dripping freely from the gauze at his left hand.

They met on open ground, and he was the first to strike.

As she moved in with the rapier, Hansel shifted the gun to the side, slamming the stock of the rifle into the sword, the muffled clang and thud of wood and steel meeting a satisfying, inspiring sound. Following through, he slammed the butt of the gun into her arm, pushing the sword well and away as he tried to sight her head with the unwieldy, long stock of the Winchester.

He pulled the trigger, knowing that this wasn't the strike to end it, but a bridge to the ending, the beginning of the end. As the bullet left the barrel, he was acutely aware of his body failing, wounds rebelling, a burning sensation crawling over his skin.

But he needed to finish it.

If anything, he needed to finish this.

Tears in the Rain
Normal encounters, average fights, Hansel would find time stretch to accommodate both parties, a combination of adrenaline and instinct mixing to create a cocktail of havoc on time and space. Distances were longer, moments were eons.

Here, he found no such comfort. Here, now, the bullets flew as bullets should - straight, fast, quick. He didn't pause to celebrate triumph as he saw one of his shots hit home - merely continued his assault.

And then she began to lay down an impressive amount of ammunition, chewing through it as it shredded through the foliage. He weathered the storm, withdrawing his limbs into himself and curling his face into his knees, hands finding their way to his ears. Through the sounds - roar of gunfire, splintering of wood, cracking of bark and foliage like human bones - he felt the sweat roll down his cheeks, the shaking of his own fingers as the fever made itself known once again.

He waited, curled, coiled, ready to spring.

The second the cacophony ceased, the string quartet of promises and deliverance of violence, Hansel leaped from cover.

His pace was a brisk walk as he strafed, firing the FAMAS in round bursts at the cover KK was behind, firing until the gun clicked to empty. He released it, smoothly drawing the Winchester from his pack, and continued, advancing, keeping her in cover, counting on the fear to seize her, the threat to keep her down, out of sight.

Hansel knew he had the advantage at close range - he was bigger, stronger.

He had to put her down.

Tears in the Rain
Bullets piercing flesh was a sound and feeling well-known to him, in the many aches and pains and wounds he'd succumbed to on the island. He knew immediately that she hadn't hit him, and was capable, confident enough, to return fire. The shrubs and trees of the park provided ample enough cover as he immediately fell back, ducking behind an oak as bullets pierced it, splintering into the thick trunk as he dropped to a knee.

The FAMAS in his hands felt familiar, soothing, as it reported back, shredding leaves and grass with tiny explosions, starlight in mid-day. He grit his teeth at his own stupidity, his own foolishness, for not firing when she was motionless and asleep.

It was a lesson that he hadn't yet learned, evidently, but part of him knew that this moment - here, now - would've been wasted without a battle.

KK and Hansel were destined to struggle, and equally destined to die.

He squeezed off another three round burst, face red and sweaty, obscured by his fedora, mixing in a little prayer with the squeezing of the trigger.

Tears in the Rain
((Hansel Williams, Unless you were Maureen O'Hara.))

Sometimes, the world just handed you a gift. Even if that gift was served cold.

Hansel found her - KK - in the park, mere meters away from where he had sat and reminisced - remembered - found a way to go back and discover a time that wasn't about death and violence. It was suiting, then, that he'd discover his biggest threat - the biggest rival he was to have here, bigger than Theo, Joe, or Tyler could ever be - sleeping in the midst of his path.

His grip tightened on the FAMAS as he froze for a few moments, watching her sleep. She seemed less threatening in sleep, cradling a big gun, the rest of her body obscured by the wooden cover she utilized. He found himself somewhat unimpressed with her - this is the girl that had chased him through kill rankings, rivalling his own count? This was her, a whisp of a girl, quiet and smooth-faced in sleep?

He couldn't believe it.

It was impossibly true.

Not wanting to miss, not letting any of this fall to chance, Hansel approached, flicking off the safety of his newly reclaimed gun, a looming shadow.

Extinguishing light.

Ask a Mod
Frankly, I'm disappointed that the staff haven't come together to discuss my boxers vs briefs question. The community has a right to know.

Ask a Mod
Question: Boxers or briefs?

Legit Question: What sort of protocols are in place to stop plagiarism, and what can the community expect the Staff team's response to be?