Fanfic challenge

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mshcherbatskaya

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Feb 1, 2008
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There is a form of fanfic called a "drabble." It's exactly 100 words long and is an exercise in both creativity and discipline if done right. A double-drabble is, as the name would indicate, 200 words long.

This is a double-drabble contest. Post your entry with the following header:

Title
Fandom
Characters - these can include original characters (OC's)

I'll run it for two weeks and then post a poll so people can vote for a winner.

C'mon, folks, whether you are generally a fanfic writer or not, show us what you can do.
 

GenHellspawn

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Why do you have to restrict people to just fanfiction? I'm sure most people prefer making up their own stories.
 

NewClassic_v1legacy

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Jul 30, 2008
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I've never been a fan of fan fiction. I've always found it to be too limiting, or barring that, too simple. Although, for a writer who knows the difference between "writing a fan fic" and "Fiction Writing for fans," it can be an artful process. Although I'm certainly no excellent writer, nor am I a particularly intense fan, I feel the need to contribute. Frankly, there can be good fan fiction, and it really takes a writer to know why to make it happen. Why not start with just one?

Title ? Invasion of Privacy
Fandom ? Galaga
Characters ? Rodrick Summers (Original character, obviously. Fill-in-the-blank since Galaga has no canon to speak of.)

Story - (200 Words)
Colonel Summers pulled on the throttle, vein in his neck sore but tense, as it had been for the past several hours. The Galaga descended in elaborate waves and formations, and the Summers' ship spiraled and spun, lancing out death to every enemy in his way. It was a suicide mission, he knew it, and his enemies probably knew it too.

Wreckage, debris, and mauled alien carcass littered the blackened void behind him, and the insectoid aliens loomed ahead. He was sure how long he'd been there, nor how long he would even continue to be alive. In a flourishing cascade, the enemy broke rank into two distinct strike forces, weaving in intricate patterns while chittering the battle cry of their species. Summers' unleashed a volley of shots, blasting alien bodies from their limbs, and destroying lives.

Another strike force assembled, and launched in an almost floral spiral. Summers' briefly considered what each side was fighting for, and if it was really worth it in the end. A roach-looking beast launched a tractive aura, which grappled Summers' ship. In a spiral of panic, he fired shots into space.

However, in the end, Summers' understood his role:
Serve the hive.
 

The Lyre

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Jul 2, 2008
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GenHellspawn said:
Why do you have to restrict people to just fanfiction? I'm sure most people prefer making up their own stories.
The idea is not to write whatever the hell you want, it is to create something with discipline, within an already established universe, so that whilst the length is short, it is very easy to understand.

At least, that's my take on it.

Why could you have not PM'ed this to Mshcher?

Word has informed me that this is 200 words exactly, but I am unsure if that is so.

Title; My Message

Fandom; Star Wars; Knights Of The Old Republic

Characters; Acaadi, Revan, Un-named Ithorian (None of which are OCs)


"Who I am is not important, my message is."

Acaadi could not rid himself of Revan's words, watching the Ithorian before him administer electrical charges to a fellow Revanchist, both openly grieving. If Revan's message was what was important, then what was Acaadi meant to make of the effects of this message?

Ithorians were raised to be complete pacifists, and deeply religious. What single man could take that heritage, and make a Hammerhead into a torturer-in-training? Was this what his statement meant - that whilst he was just a man, his message made him far more than that? A being with enough influence to force a sobbing Ithorian to continue torturing one of his friends - without even being present - all for the sake of training; this was no man, this was surely the power of something above an individual, to so utterly destroy a lifetime of cultural and moral education.

Somewhere in this training complex, Revan was most likely stood influencing another group of trainees - potential Revanchists, tearing away their lifetimes, their preconceptions, what their memories and ancestors had taught them...such power - to take a mind, break it, and reconstruct it within one speech.

Revan, what are you?

I have counted it myself twice, and it is certainly 200 words exactly...I think.
 

mshcherbatskaya

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GenHellspawn said:
Why do you have to restrict people to just fanfiction? I'm sure most people prefer making up their own stories.
Because that would be a different contest. The challenge of fanfic is its restrictions, telling the story you want to tell while staying within the bounds of canon. Drabbles take this challenge even further by severely restricting wordcount, which means you have to successfully evoke the universe itself, establish proper canon-consistant character, and get your story or point across, all within a very small space.

If you want an original fiction drabble contest, start one.
 

GenHellspawn

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Whatever, I'll go along with it.

Title: Out with the Old, In with the New
Fandom: Starcraft
Characters: Luke (main character)

It's hot as hell, on a sweaty, sticky Tarsonis day without a breath of wind. I whip the canteen from its holster and chug the last couple drops. The sky is pig-shit brown, as is the on-the-brink of collapse trench that all my stuff is in.
Before the breakdown, the speakers scattered around our position would drone with the voice of General Carvaile. Now, the only sound is the riffing of an electric guitar and the incessant moan of the Zerg.
The Zerg. How I love the cheecky little bastards. Wasn't for them, we'd only have us humans to fight with. Better the devil you know. I'm starting to really see the logic behind that.

The moan gets louder and louder. Then, something terrible happens. What I thought was a little earthquake, was something even worse. The trembling starts to get more intense, and then I see it. The Zerg's secret weapon. An Ultralisk.
The diagrams they showed me at training were bullshit. That thing's at least ten feet tall, and he's got the muscle to back it up.
He charges straight into us. He whips his head towards me, and I fly a mile up. I cease to exist.
 

Ultrajoe

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Apr 24, 2008
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Title: Master Strategist
Fandom: Warhammer 40K
Characters: Marneus Calgar and Chief Librarian Tigerius

In the 41st millenium, they build Airlocks to last. They build them, in fact, to keep out much more than air. This one took an entire generator to wrench open, made as it was of enough steel to hold back whatever it could conceivably hold. And in the past it had held everything from a carnifex to a chaos reclic, but none seemed to compare to the creeping terror that it now sealed within.

Unearthed on a distant outpost, sealed away in ancient technosorcery. Techpriests had been unable to decipher the meaning the find contained.

And so word had been sent, through channels reserved for calls of war and the Emperors edict, and the two men who could, if any, decipher the mystery had come. The angelic Calgar and the legendary Tigerius. The heroes strode inside, waved out the awed technicians and stood for a moment in silence.

And longer, unable to look away from what they beheld.

Calgar spoke first, deep and deliberate "Have anyone else who has been inside this room shot"

Tigerius picked up one of the objects; crudely painted, worn from the passage of time. "So do you want to play as us? or the Tyranid?"

____________

200 words exactly. It's so hard to write so confined, you have so little room for description. Every word needs to carry the exact right meaning and mood, or else you lose so much to ambiguity. However, as it happens one of the strengths of Fanfic is that everybody knows that if it concerns secrets in the 41st millennium, it's dark and full of nastiness, so description wasn't overtly essential. I hope you all enjoyed it.
 

Ursus Astrorum

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Mar 20, 2008
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Title: Statistics and Tragedies
Fandom: Starfox (Assault Timeline)
Characters: Pvt. Michael Petzin (OC)



Michael took a shaky breath as his squadmates worked on opening the blast doors. He knew his enemy inside and out. Why, then, was he so afraid?

?Petzin,? The sergeant barked.

?Y-yessir??

?Settle down, soldier. This is a simple mission: We go in and take out all the Aparoids as we can, so the air support's job is easier.?

?Sir, what about getting out??

The sergeant did not answer, his half-ear twitching reluctantly.

Without warning the doors burst open, sending three marines flying. Amongst the ruins stood what could only be described as a nightmare. It charged and trampled two men before letting out a terrible screech. The sergeant rushed forward without hesitation, his gun blazing. The creature swung a scythe-like appendage to rend the man in two.

As Arthur frantically prepared his rifle, he felt the creature's focus settle on him. The scythe lashed out; his vision flashed red as he rose from the ground. Gasping for breath that did not seem to come, he fired blindly, his finger stuck on the trigger until he fell to the floor.

As his sight faded he saw four Arwings glide across the sky, seeming so safe and smug.

____________

200 Words, and it was certainly a lot of fun to write. It definitely seems like an effective exercise. I rather like the tone I went with here, taking the generally lighthearted atmosphere that is Starfox and twisting it like this.
 

rogueshadows

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Dec 15, 2008
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Title: Tooth and Claw
Fandom: The Wheel of Time (Robert Jordan)
Characters: Fallen Leaves, Rippling Moon, Green Wind, Shadow Dance (all OC); Shadowkiller(Rand AL'Thor)

In the wolf dream, the news spread: Shadowkiller has come. In the land humans called Shienar, Fallen Leaves woke. He rose, and met the golden eyes of Rippling Moon. She knew. They all did.

Rippling Moon?s pack was quickly restless. The time had come, and shadowspawn would not wait. Led by her graying muzzle, they loped towards the Blight.

Crouched in long, sharp grasses, avoiding foliage that rotted on its branches, they watched the trollocks approach. There were three of the great beast-men, but the wolves were seven. At Moon?s silent command, they leapt, fangs bared.

The trollocks could not be taken completely by surprise. The Blight was their territory, the sickening stain of the Dark One strong. The wolves, though much smaller, fought with the hatred of their entire race. Their every ancestor howled from the Dream for the shadowspawn?s death. Teeth snapped, claws tore, and the trollocks fell, one with its spear through Green Wind. He would be mourned, along with Shadow Dance, fallen to a rusty sword. The wolves skipped away from the grotesque forms, spitting black blood and tainted flesh back onto the ground.

Fallen Leaves expressed pleasure. Three less shadowspawn would walk the world.

____________

200 words is restrictive isn't it? I really enjoyed Robert Jordan's depiction of the wolves, and those who can speak with them.
 

000Ronald

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Mar 7, 2008
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But I'll try it out anyways. This idea was born after me and a friend watched Meet the Spartans, and contemplated how much better it would have been if we were directing.

This is our retelling of the famous "THIS IS SPARTA!" scene from 300. Criticism is encouraged; we were really serious when we were doing this, and would like to know how to make it better.

Name: Pit of Death?
Fandom: 300
Characters: King Leonidas, multiple Spartans and Persians

"Madness?" Leonidas said. Baring his teeth and inhaling deeply, he screamed, the echo filling the entire square "THIS IS SPARTA!" King Leonidas sheathed his sword. "Go and tell that to your 'God-King', Persian. Tell him we will be waiting."

The Persian looked behind him, then back to Leonidas. "You're not going to throw me into the pit of death?"

Leonidas turned around. "Pit of death? What are you talking about?"

"The pit of death. This giant thing right behind me."

"That's a well. Why would I throw you into my well? What do you think we are, barbarians?"

"Well...yes. I've heard-"

"Look," Leonidas said, clearly exasperated. "It's a well! I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure it's unhygienic to store dead bodies in your well; people drink out of there!"

"I'd heard you commit infanticide-"

"Well, yes, but that's out of mercy; better they die when they don't know the difference than die of weakness."

"There's the rape of young soldiers-"

"IT'S A BONDING EXPIRIENCE! DOES NO ONE UNDERSTAND THAT!"

"I'm not judging-"

"NO! JUST GO BACK TO YOUR GOD-KING AND TELL HIM WE'RE COMING FOR HIS ASS!"

"You're not helping yourself."

"SHUTUP!"