Nuile the Paracosmic Tulpa

As the cover lifts off the precious pages, among the first things you see in any book are the various credits. It is only fair, therefore, as a first order of business to give credit where it is due. For my Premier Membership I owe my thanks entirely to GSR and his giveaway. The drawing ended, as GSR explained to me, with my name in the fourth slot, and there were only three prizes. However, after over two weeks of inactivity and failure to claim his prize, one of the winners was disqualified, and I found it my deferred fortune to be the recipient of one single-year Premier Membership. We can all, I think, bring our hands together to applaud GSR's munificence. Thank you, sir! Without, then, any further ado, allow me to introduce to you myself: Nuile, the Lunatic Wordsmith. First and foremost, I write. That's my passion, my life. The opportunity to breathe the worlds of my imagination onto paper, to venture to faraway places both real and fantastic, and to fraternize with the studies that inhabit them; that's what I live for. Though most people think of reading as an escape, I think of it as a window: a looking-glass that, by taking you through worlds non-existent, reveals the true world beneath the superficial one. For so many reasons, in so many ways, I love to write. That being of greatest import, I imagine you have read one or the other or both of my profiles, which leaves but little to be said. I can only hope that over the ensuing twelve months that you will stay with me, as it is my humble belief that you may just find yourself entertained by the ravings of this wordsmith. Until next time, Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

So I said to myself--because I talk to myself often--"I'll probably enter the CoT portion of this contest, I don't have any good ideas for the other." So I'm sitting around, drawing a blank on CoT ideas, when all in an instant I get an awesome idea for the BIONICLE theme and it's written within the hour. Go figure.Nuile: Lunatic WordsmithThe Twilight Game Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

A figure strode down a long, white hall. The gold ornamentations on his silver armor gave off a dazzling glint in the brightly lit corridor. He crossed under an archway into a similar hall, at the end of which stood a large, heavy metal door. He opened it and entered the chamber beyond.It was as if a storm cloud had covered the sun; the bright yellow light had dimmed to little more than a whisper of illumination, which faded into complete shadow at the far end.Red eyes gleamed out of the darkness, lending a glow sufficient to define a harshly angular mask. A smooth, glib voice snarled, "Why did you invite me to the Equilibrium? This is an inconvenient time. I was about to harrow someone."The light being stepped to the center of the room to stand over a large table, whereon he traced his finger across a large map. "We have business to speak of," he said simply."It's a pity. He was such a happy soul." The eyes twinkled, and a smile crept beneath them. "Oh, well. It won't hurt me to give him a few more minutes of contentment. Just make it quick."This new figure moved toward the center of the room, gaining a vague silhouette. He was tall and lean, his panoply adorned with ample spikes. A tattered cloak billowed behind him like a trail of smoke. "What is it?" he asked carelessly, leaning against a pillar beside the table."It's this new island." The figure stabbed a point on the map."What is there to discuss?" The shadowy figure shrugged. "You claimed the last one. This one's mine.""I know that's true. But I want this one.""And why should I let you have it? Out of the kindness of my heart?" His laugh was as smooth as his tone."This one is different, somehow. It has so much potential.""Potential! It is all the same. It merely matters how you use it.""You don't use potential, you twist it.""Call it what you will. It makes no difference." The smooth voice darkened. "You still have no claim that outbids mine.""Then how shall we settle this?" Instinctively, the white figure's hand went to the hilt of his saber."Oh, don't be dramatic. I have no interest in killing you today." The red eyes brightened suddenly. "But I know. We'll split it.""Split it?""Bad choice of words. We'll share it."The resplendent figure raised an eyebrow. There was a pause before he asked, "And how do you propose we do that?""Instead of settling this in the arena, we settle it on the battlefield.""War?""Not war," was the indignant response. "Combat is so plain. Good versus evil, the two great powers battling eternally for supremacy." The ebon figure gagged. "So cliché. And I'm blasé. But here we have, as you say, potential. Conflict on a diffuse scale.""An out-and-out free-for-all?" The light being was taken aback."Chaos." A rapacious smile crossed the scarred mask. "We'll make a sort of game out of it, you and I. We'll each control all the pieces. Rather than battle, it will be a real competition. Survival of the fittest, if you will.""I won't allow it. I don't like gambling with fate.""Oh, do lighten up." The black figure laughed at his own wit. "It's not a gamble at all. It's a game of strategy.""And the pieces? Living, breathing beings, with minds and hearts, and destinies of their own! These are peoples' lives we're talking about!""Oh, what good do they do with them, for all that living and breathing?""And what do you care about good?""I thought it might interest you." The sinister creature straightened and moved to the table. He leaned closer to the white figure, his eyes gleaming malefically. "The Toa will protect the Matoran, as they always do--or will they? The Turaga will lead--or will they? The Skakdi, the Vortixx, the Makuta, all will have their place within our little ecosystem--or will they? You see, it is all up to us. We'll take our turns and make our moves, and as for the consequences--" He waved a dismissive hand. "Existence has its consequences."The other hesitated. "There will need to be--rules.""Of course. Any game needs rules. Without them, how could anybody cheat?" The ebon figure grinned. "We'll need to lay down a law for our new people. Regulations, limitations, assignations, what have you. All of that. To play you need a field"--he tapped the island on the map--"and a way to play. And then the contest begins."The white figure stroked his mask in consideration. He took a long look at the island designated on the map, then extended a hand. "It's a deal. We'll play."His new opponent took his hand and shook it, laughing. "Winner takes it all! Some real excitement at last!" He winked and turned to leave."But we still need a name for this--contest."Without looking back, the black-clad figure disappeared into the shadows. "It's a little bit of everything, isn't it? It's no simple sport. It's alpha to omega, and everything in between. Or everyone. We're the heads, and the letters are our unfaithful, unwitting armies. Yes, we're the alphas. So they'll start with beta." A door creaked, and his final words echoed in the chamber before it shut with a slam: "We'll call it BZ-Koro. Do you like that?" Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

A topic for critiquing and discussing my epic, The Last Avatar. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

The Last Avatar ~ * ~ ENIM SAPIENTIA ~ * ~ Air. Water. Earth. Fire. Long ago, there lived humans with the unique abilities to control the elements. Those who possessed the mystical gene were known as benders. The most powerful of all benders was the Avatar, master of all four elements. But everything changed; over time, the benders died out, and their art was lost.Hundreds of years passed, and the benders became but a legend. Even the Avatar faded into a mere myth. Nobody believed in the benders anymore. But not all has been lost to time. I believe . . . because I met the Avatar. Chapter One The Beginning of an End "It's time for you to take over the responsibility of keeping peace and balance in the world." - Katara "Happy birthday, Jenny!"I stood on the porch step, arms held forth to present a gift-wrapped parcel. A smile bent her lips and lifted the cheeks below her sparkling eyes to form a welcoming countenance, all framed by a cascade of hair as black as a raven's feathers."Thanks!" said she, receiving the box and setting it aside. "You're early.""Only fashionably.""Well, I'm glad. I want to show you something. Come on!"Before I could respond she had me by the wrist. She led me down the front walk, paused to let a school bus meander by like a massive myriapod, and then dragged me across the street. She tramped across the lush midsummer grass of the park, passing the playground and coming to a halt in the shade of an oak tree.I slapped my hands to my cheeks, jaw falling open. I gasped, long and deep. And I said: "It's amazing! It's--it's--a tree!" I frowned. "Seriously now, what are you showing me?""Just watch." She unslung a canteen from her shoulder and set it upright on the ground."You're going to water the tree?""No." She kneeled down beside the canteen and unscrewed the lid, smiling eagerly."I know that face," I said gravely. "You're going to drown an anthill."She struggled against a grin to form the word, "No.""What then?" I kneeled on the opposite side of the canteen."Watch!"She flicked the lid aside. She threw a glance over each shoulder, searching the surrounding area to ensure she wasn't being watched. I raised an eyebrow. She raised her hands, spreading them out with palms downward and fingers dangling, as if she were about to play piano or raise the dead.I was watching, but seeing nothing. I was searching so intently for whatever it was she was showing me that, at first, I thought it was a trick of the light, or that my bespectacled eyes were playing tricks on me. But it was no optical illusion. This time I gawked genuinely. The water was flowing out through the neck of the canteen, straight upward. Slowly it climbed higher and higher, like a waterspout, but in slow motion. And then it halted above our heads to hover in midair.I could hardly speak. With a swallow, I succeeded to choke out, "How in the world--?""Cool, huh?" she whispered. "Watch this."The water began to swirl in the air, whirling and twirling until it became a constantly spinning ring. She clenched a hand. The ring exploded, showering water upon us--water that didn't touch us. Each drop halted just above our heads, floating there as if time had frozen."Your dad didn't pursue a repeal on the law of gravity, did he?"The water merged into a single blob and then trickled back down into the canteen, not a drop out of place. Casting her eyes about again, she replaced the lid and threw the strap over her neck."Well?" she asked eagerly. "What do you think?"It took a few minutes and a dash of cold water in my face for me to regain consciousness, far the less articulacy.Laughing at me, she said, "I think I'll take that as a compliment.""Take it as what you want. In dreamland everything is open to perception.""You're not dreaming, Jacob.""Tell that to the water nymph that lives in your canteen.""That wasn't a nymph. I was controlling the water.""Oh, so you're a witch. I hope you won't take it personally, but I'll have to burn you now. Tradition, you know. Well, somewhere, it is. So I figure, why mess with it?"Jenny snapped her fingers. "You get the kindling," as a small flame sprang up on her thumbnail."Oh, you can cast fire spells, too. Anything else I should know?"The flame grew into a ball of fire, which she tossed back and forth from hand to hand before snuffing it with a clap. "I can control wind and earth, too. But fire comes easiest.""Whatever. This is still all just a dream. Although, usually, in my dreams, I'm surrounded by dancing tubas, and fleeing my adoring fans.""Fans?""Indeed. They dance, too. Ballerinas. They sure know how to twirl."Jenny rolled her eyes at my wit--or lack thereof--and otherwise ignored it as she insisted, "But this isn't a dream. This is real. I can control the elements.""Ridiculous. It can't be. I've known you nearly half your life, and you've never shown signs of being a witch.""Oh, no? What about the time we were in the tree, and I fell out? I landed without getting hurt.""Freak breeze, that's all! You were wearing baggy clothes that day.""What about the time I blew my birthday cake across the table into your face?""It was all the helium from blowing up those balloons.""And the time I buried the slide with sand when you had your back turned for only a moment?""Uh--sandstorm?"In one fluid movement, Jenny opened the canteen and manipulated the water out and into my face. "Do you still think this is a dream?"Spitting out a mouthful of water, I said, "It's raining outside, and the ceiling over my bed is leaking. That's all."To this, she responded by punching me in the shoulder."Ouch!" I protested."Real pain!""My cat stepped on me."Jenny closed her eyes with a sigh. "Jacob, do you remember the time the grill fell into the pool?""And on top of me." My voice faltered. "I'll never forget that.""And it sank to the bottom, pinning you there." I nodded; she went on, "And then that sudden current of water lifted the grill off you so you could swim away.""That was--that was--""That was me."I searched for words, but found none. Leaning back on my hands, I said, "It's incredible, Jenny. It's incredible! How can this be real?""I wish I knew." She shook her head perplexedly. "But it is. Somehow--somehow I can bend the elements to my will.""Why didn't you ever tell me this?"She looked away. "I'm sorry. I--I've never told anyone, before now. I never really understood it myself. Even now, I don't really know how it's possible. But I could never do it on purpose before. Not very well, at least. Not until today.""Today? What's changed?""I don't know." She shrugged. "But somehow, I have greater control all of a sudden. Before today I never could have done what I just did with the water.""Okay, so magical powers increase on a witch's twelfth birthday.""I'm not a witch.""Oh, so you're a warlock. What else haven't you told me?""I'm a bender.""And what's that supposed to mean?""I'm not a witch. I'm a bender. This power--it's called bending.""And how do you know this?"Her shoulders rose and fell. "I can't explain it. I just . . . know.""You just know," I echoed. "Could this get any weirder?""It could, boy. It could."Jenny and I started. Looking up, we saw a tall middle-aged man standing over us. A trim and polished mustache adorned the lip of his rigidly stoic face. He wore a very formal suit of a dark pinstripe, which I would have thought would be insufferable in the heat of a summer day. His voice was soft and smooth but harsh."Good afternoon," said Jenny, rising. I stood up beside her. "I--don't think we've met?""I'm new in town," the man confessed. "But we know one another better than you think."Jenny stared warily at the man. "I--don't understand. Who are you?""That's not what matters here. What is relevant is that I know who you are. Or, shall we say, what you are."Jenny stiffened. "You mean--you saw?"The man nodded. "I did. But I've known for far longer than that." He tucked a hand in one pocket. "You see, I have been looking for you for quite some time. And now, at last, here you are."Jenny stared. "You've been looking for--me?""You possess a unique talent. In fact, you possess far more potential than you realize, Avatar."Jenny's eyes widened. "You know that I'm--? But how?""How?" I echoed. "How about What? What's an Avatar? And why do you know you are one?"Again was the response, "I just do." Then the man spoke again."The Avatar is the most powerful bender of all. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean much anymore, now that she's the last bender alive. A pity, that.""I'm so confused!" Jenny cried. "What does it mean that I'm the Avatar? Why do I have these powers?"A slight curve came to his lips. "You might as well know in your last moments."Surprise and fear rippled in my chest, but I suppressed it with anger. "And when's that to be, huh?" I growled, taking a step forward. "I'll have you know that I'm a--I'm a--well, never mind me. I'll have you know that Jenny here's a blue belt!"I felt thick, sinewy hands seize me by the arms. Jenny let out a sharp protest as another man grabbed her. In addition to the two brutes holding us, one man and two women sneaked up from the rear. All five faces were shadowed by hockey masks.Struggling against her captor's grip, Jenny snipped at the mustached man, "What's going on? Why are you doing this?""I told you we would meet again," said he. "But I have plans laid, Avatar, plans with which I cannot allow you to interfere.""What are you talking about?" Jenny spat. "I've never met you before in my life!""Not in your life, my dear, no. But in a past life of yours, we have met. In several past lives, in fact."Jenny ceased her struggles. "Past lives--of mine?""You are the Avatar, and as such, you are a part of a reincarnation cycle. Even though your predecessor died with the benders, I knew that the Avatar would be reborn eventually. It was to be expected, I suppose, that it would be the start of this century, of all centuries.""I'm just some reincarnation?" asked Jenny. "Of some person who died hundreds of years ago?""Many persons, actually.""This is madness!" I interrupted. "Jenny's not a bunch of ancient dead people!""Not precisely. But I wouldn't expect a mere human such as yourself to understand."I pulled against the viselike grip. "I'll show you a mere human!"Before my captor could react, I slammed my foot down on his and threw my skull back against his mask. His grip loosened enough that I could wrest my arm free and elbow him in the stomach before delivering a clumsy, though no less effective for that, roundhouse kick. He toppled. I regained my balance. Next I locked my large hands around the man holding Jenny, peeling him away from her. She spun round and snapped, "Duck!"I fell flat in time for her to form a sphere of flame in her hands. In rapid succession she pitched the ball at one of the masked hooligans, formed another, threw it at the next, created a third, and knocked back the last.Meanwhile I contended with he who had been holding Jenny. With my superior fighting skill, I felled him; in other words, he stumbled over a tree root and I sent him sprawling with a strong kick to the rear. Now Jenny grabbed me by the collar and dragged me unceremoniously away with the simple instruction, "Run!"And so we did. But even as we turned tail and fled, the mustached man issued a simple, calm, "Catch them."His five pawns rose instantly and gave chase. I had to slow my gait to match Jenny's, though it meant allowing our pursuers to gain distance as we crossed the park field."This way!" said Jenny.I retorted, "Haven't you led me into enough trouble?"Jenny and I crossed the silent street and darted up a driveway and around a house. We broke through a wall of bushes into the next yard, swerving to narrowly avoid a screened-in pool. A young girl screamed from the water when our pursuers decimated the hedge line. Onward through the subsequent yards we dodged past lawn equipment, swing sets, fire pits, an angry dachshund, and a boy with a toy dart-gun.At the end of the block I began to cross the street, but Jenny pulled me across the intersection instead. We rounded the house and vaulted the rear fence. On the other side we landed in a garden, narrowly avoiding the growing vegetables. A grayed man looked up from his cultivation, yelling as we ran past, "Hey, youngsters! You watch your step! You nearly crushed--"Before he could finish, the five thugs hurdled over the fence and galloped through his yard, trampling his patch.The gardener tore at his hair and screamed, "My cabbages!"And still we were chased persistently through the neighborhood. Jenny and I were beginning to tire."Follow my lead!" I instructed."What's your plan?""Just trust me!" I panted. "Out of the two of us--I'm the only one who hasn't--nearly gotten us killed!"We flung ourselves over another fence. The moment we landed I grabbed Jenny's arm and pulled her back into the dense bushes on the other side. Our pursuers sailed over our heads and ran on into the next yard.We hid there in the shadows of the shrubs until our breathing slowed and the sounds of the mustached man's minions faded into the distance. Only then did Jenny dare to speak."Who do you think that man was?""Obviously someone with a grudge against you.""But why? Do you think--" She hesitated. "Do you think it could be true that we've met in a past life?""Absurd," I objected. "He was probably just some guy who hated you because you hit the winning home run in a softball game and crushed his daughter's team." I stood up and put a hand atop the fence. "Come on. Let's get back to your house before those guys come looking for us again."But when we clambered over the wooden pickets, my heart leaped into my throat."Hello again, Avatar." An icy smile bent mustached lips. "Did you really think you could escape me so easily? I have been waiting a long time for the moment to execute my plans. I cannot allow you to be a distraction when the day comes.""I have no idea what you're talking about!" said Jenny shrilly. "What do you want from me?""Your life." The man reached into an inner pocket and withdrew a metallic object that glistened in the sunshine. It was a pistol. "These modern weapons are so crude," he observed, raising the muzzle toward Jenny and pulling back the hammer. "But they're effective."In spite of a "Jacob! Don't!" from Jenny, I stepped between her and the gun. She tried to push me out of the way, but I grabbed her arms and held her behind me."You said yourself that she's part of some reincarnation continuity," I taunted. "If you kill her, she'll just be reborn and come back to kick your butt!""I am sorry to say that is true." He frowned. "But you won't."Bang. The sound exploded in my ears even as the pain exploded in my chest. I could hear Jenny's screams, but they were distant. The stoic face of the mustached man swam before my eyes. Jenny caught me as I collapsed, and slowly laid me down in the grass.Indistinctly I saw the gun directed at Jenny. I heard a smooth voice say, "You asked what it means to be the Avatar. I'll tell you. It means you were destined to defeat me. It means that you were destined to fail. It means that you will die." Review Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Yes, sir, ma'am, sir! *salutes* Reviewed, as per request and assignment, thank you for choosing the SSCC. I think I'll further this trend. I would like to request reviews, please, for three individual pieces of flash fiction, found in this compilation: The Chimera, The Right Path, and Feel Good. Assigned to--oh, wait, I can't continue that part of the trend. Oh, well, my gratitude, then.From the desk of Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

It was pretty, and odd; it was compelling, and dark. And I use these words advisedly as the best to describe it.Another word I will use is profound, but rather in a hollow way. You said "everything is"--but you didn't say what it is. But in fact, that's exactly what you were saying: it isn't. It's hollow. By intention or result, it worked. I can't say I'm at all of the same perspective, but I won't say this didn't work out as it was meant to.Speaking of perspective, I always enjoy looking at things from a different angle, and "dark matter" certainly has an interesting vantage. Seeing ourselves, and the likes of others we know only via our imaginations, through the eyes of space itself, was instructive, in a way. Humbling. It was one of those "big picture" moments I so enjoy. I think one of the greatest thing about being a writer as that we (or most of us) see the small, medium, and big pictures, without forsaking any one for the other or anything in between.High commendations on your style. The pace was perfect, there was character in the narration, it flowed well, and it was imbued with the proper vibe.I don't have anything to criticize here. I will say that it wasn't really a story, so much as an essay, which rather leaves me without a plot to analyze. Personally I prefer an allegory over an essay for its depth and vibrance. But you wrote this in a way that makes it in part an allegory. It's a--disquisitional allegory? That's how I can best describe it.Oh, I just thought of another apt word to describe it.Darn good.Wait, that was two words.Thank you for choosing the SSCC, Writer Cederak. If you're satisfied with my review, put a good word in with SSCC Co-Curator Cederak for me, would you? ;P Keep writing, From the desk of Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Nothing counts that occurred before the Ambage. That may change at a later date, but for now, that's the rule.You posted on the fifth--this is the sixth . . . well, I guess that counts as a later date. Your personal record starts the day you joined the Ambage--or the BAG. As an example, Larxene there can't count anything except stories, reviews, et cetera that she posted yesterday or today. As another example, Velox and I can go back to May 19th. BAG members can find their date here.From the desk of Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

To cover a few ideas: Agartha, Aztlán, Kitezh, El Dorado, Camelot--would these be permissible? From the desk of Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Congrats to the winners, and further commendations to you, GSR, for your generosity. From the desk of Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Grochi, Sonis, Tehurye, Chiquita--thank you! I appreciate your comments. (And I fixed the error; my gratitude, Sonis.)To Zarayna, I say that if Greg can excuse physical impossibilities, and moreover if Hawkeye can fire five arrows, I can. ;P Error, fixed. Compliments and objections, appreciated.And thanks to Proud Stigma, particularly for going into detail regarding the fight scene; I personally consider action to be my weak point, and I'm glad to know I was successful there.And Zaxvo, a little negativity again, I like that. As far as the opening words, they were rather clichéd, I think, though I don't know where you think you've heard them. I'm reminded of Jimmy Neutron. In any case, that was the vibe I was going for, to set that punchy, derisive tone for Kaomata. As for Hahli and Kaomata's willingness to kill each other and then to make up soon thereafter--well, if they were alive to make up, obviously they didn't kill each other. Okay, that's a bit of a weak point, but it stands that they did not kill each other, Kaomata obviously was unwilling to do so, and I don't think Hahli would have, either. It pushes believability, I'll concede. However, in my experience, the rule that "things need to get worse before they can get better" holds true. People are a lot more reasonable after matters come to a head. Years of bitterness coagulated, incited by the tone of the situation, into anger, an anger that spent itself and subsided into sorrow. All that needed to be said passed between them in that battle. It was an argument, each trusting to the other for their attacks to be as harmless as verbal ones. Thus they resolved the matter, and when next they met it was already over and done with. From the desk of Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Sir, I commend your magnanimity. This is truly very generous, and I thank you for the opportunity to count my name in the drawing for a free membership for the next year. Win or lose, I enjoy the chance; and three fortunate people will be greatly gratified. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

I remember that last time that was allowed--only after the contest ended. For the duration of the contest, it's all you (and your teammates); when it's over, then you can get feedback.Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Yeah, there's a limit. Six. So you could submit one story for the objective, one for the prompt, and one for each vocabulary word, if you wanted to; provided that you state clearly what each qualifies for. But note that you can't qualify for a given criterion of a challenge more than once. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

I Am the Jungle, by Nuile, if you please.From the desk of Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

This goes for the LSO, and for all short story or epic competitions, whether official or otherwise: Yes. Any contest entry may be entered here as well, given that it meets the objective, the prompt, or at least one of the vocabulary words. Moreover, to clarify, if you write a short story or epic chapter contains the word victual and nothing else pertaining to the challenge, it qualifies, though only for that one point. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

I'd kill for Hastings's position. But if I did, I guess I'd have Dr. Sheppard's position. XP Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Well! I guess the honor of being the first to submit a story is mine!The Rain: Qualifies for the objective and the prompt, but not the lexis.In time I may implement an official submission form, but for now, I'm not seeing it as necessary.And on another note, for those who are a little uncertain, feel free to take a look at my story. It's short (somewhere around 500 words), so it won't take long to read. It's a good example of how loosely a challenge can be interpreted. Though I took the prompt very literally, which is not necessary, the story itself was more metaphorical than allegorical. Technically these are two different things, but they're similar, and I'm not going to discriminate against blurring the lines between them. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

RAIN Thunder rumbled like a first dry sob. The clouds were sodden and convex, ominous like the first frown and quiver of the eyebrows. And then it started, as always, with one drop.It plummeted from the sky, landing in the leaves of a tree. The first leaf drooped beneath its weight, passing it to the next. It depressed the next leaf and slid onto a twig, down its thin form, into the waiting hand of another leaf that passed it to the next. Finally it slipped from the tree to fall to earth.Like the leaves of the tree I gently removed the first tear from my face and regarded it. Like the first raindrop that was now being joined by a legion of its kin, this tear was only the first of many. Yet it was the most important. It was the leader, the scout who forged the path for the others that began tumbling down my face. I trembled. My chest heaved with another sob.The first tear was the emotional breakdown that finally opened the clouds and released the downpour. The sky sobbed with thunder and wept with rain, putting its cold, wet arms around my shoulders as I sat on the bench, watching the tall men with their drenched shirts clinging to their rippling muscles unlade the moving van, concealing each haul beneath a tarp.I thought of the house I had left behind, but not for long. I thought of the familiar sites in the town of my previous residence, but those, too, meant little. They were places. Even friends I had known there were not the source of my sorrow. It was the friend I had lost for whom I lamented.The best friend I had ever had. She whose eyes were more radiant than stars. She whose smile was brighter than the sun. She whose tears were more beautiful than the rain. She whose laughter had rung more dulcet than birdsong. She who had been my closest and dearest companion for longer than I could remember.And I wept. I wept over the happy memories and the memories that would never be made. I wept over the conversations we had shared years ago and so often since. I wept over the games of our youth and the courtship of recent times. I wept over the laughter, the clasped hands, the touching lips. And the sky wept with me.The clouds' tears mingled with mine until I was soaked to the skin, and still I sat there and wept bitterly for the love I could not help but wonder if I would ever see again. I did not want to give up; but was the proverb re long-distance relationships true?Suddenly the rain lightened. The thunder grew quieter. When I looked up at the sky through bleary eyes, I saw light. Sunshine glowed through an interstice in the clouds, illuminating the gray land with its rays and unfurling a rainbow across the sky.I felt it warm my whole body. It was a ray of hope suddenly casting its glow on a dreary world. Everything seemed, logically, much brighter. My heart lifted. I would see her again--because I would not give up. It was as simple as that.And I smiled. I smiled over the memories that would yet be made. I smiled in anticipation of my next exchange with her, of the laughter it would bring. I smiled with the ardor of my heart for the girl I saw behind my drawn eyelids. And the sky smiled with me. Though we were encompassed by clouds, for this moment we were blissful."Hey there, boy," called one of the movers, who ostensively had not noticed me prior, "aren't you gonna retreat? The storm's not over yet."I beamed. "No," I agreed, "it's not over yet." Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

- Nuile- Exemplar: Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

This was definitely one of the greatest library contests BZP's had in my time. Commendations to the hosts for their brilliance, and felicitations to the winners for theirs. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

I hadn't realized that the write-offs were going to be exclusively Skype. Reading it over, I see that you're right, it does say that. Personally I am up against the same problem as you. I would think we could do that here. I'll talk to Velox about it.Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

He told me that he would transfer all members with the guild; then, as he told me after I posted, he changed his mind. But it is settled now, I believe, that all BAG members are Ambage members.Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Ah, the relaunch of the relaunch of the return of the League of Authors! This is awesome. This is truly awesome. Many thanks to Hahli Husky for allowing us to place this here in the Short Stories forum, that will truly be beneficial to us--and, I hope, to the community itself. Thanks also to Velox, without whom this never would have gotten as far as it has; and to Cederak and 55555 for all their help with this new relaunch.And so, here's to writing! *raises glass of ink* The two of you are actually already signed up. This is really just a reboot, with some adaptations, of the Authors' Guild; if you were a member of that, you're a member of this. The list of participants will be added when Velox remembers to do that. XDSincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

Something went horribly wrong with your keyboard as you were entering the lyrics. And I will have nightmares.That said, this wasn't bad. I personally prefer my stories shown, not told; I like to live in a scene, not to hear a long-winded backstory. However, because that was the very purpose of the story and it was done so well, I approve. It put an interesting perspective on a Toa Team, calling it a family. That's not really the way I generally look at any Toa Team. And it was a nice little surprise at the end to find out that this was Tuyet speaking. That's a bit of a cliché, however, and I felt it coming from the beginning. Still, up until nearly the end the identity of the narrator was unknown, and only then did I identify Tuyet. It was a good twist.For what it was, you did a great job. I think you succeeded in what you were trying to do, even if it was not, banally speaking, my cup of tea.Grammatically, I commend you. I only noticed one mistake, and I have only one other nitpick. Conveniently, they were side by side: The word this was used a few too many times for my taste; it just became repetitive.Also, you were missing the pronoun between when and have; but better yet, you could change it to when one has. This wasn't my preference, but I did enjoy it. So good job.Keep writing, Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith