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Post by Kat on Apr 19, 2024 20:43:23 GMT -5
My first attempt at an ending was supposed to be a bad end (and had an inconsistency I fixed in a later version) : "How do we shrink this duck again?" Rynn asked as she shoved against the Rainbow Battle Duck's behind. In the heat of the battle, the magic words wouldn't surface in her mind. "Battle Duck likes lakes likes Battle Ducks?"
"Wait, no!" Wally exclaimed. "Those are the words for - "
BOOM.
Rynn screamed and instinctively threw herself onto the ground. Wally jumped backward, albeit with more force than should be possible with a Bruce of his size and physical skill. Before Rynn could wonder if Wally had used another one of his "Great Wizard of Warwick Way" tricks to do that, the Rainbow Battle Duck vanished with a violent flash of light that shook the Battledome so roughly, even the Angry Tax Beast tumbled into a sitting position.
Not only that, he was being pelted by Battle Ducks of every color. As they fell and bounced off him, they shot ice-cold water, flames, jets of water, even plumes of darkness and in one case, a shower of confetti.
"Oh," Rynn mumbled, slowly picking herself up amid the mess of Battle Ducks. "Sorry, Wally." So much for her heroic move.
"Don't be sorry, my dear! Look!"
Wally tugged at her arm and pointed. The Angry Tax Beast was sprawled onto the floor, covered in even more Battle Ducks, burned and scorched and drenched and iced. The ruby-red beast was not moving.
"He's...we did it." It took a moment, but the Eyrie jumped for joy. "We did it! The Rainbow Battle Duck worked! But...how do we get it back? Is that even possible?"
"Only one way to find out!" Wally started jogging around the Battledome, chanting, "Battle Duck likes lakes, Battle Duck likes lakes, Battle Lake likes ducks - oops, I mean - "
Rynn needed no further urging. She ran after him, repeating the words, her tongue getting twisted all over them. But even as they ran seven times and more around the arena, the Battle Ducks remained quiescent, like a comical blanket over their defeated opponent. The Eyrie groaned and halted, throwing up her hands. The ritual had worked, they won their battle...but now, they couldn't even get the Rainbow Battle Duck back. She could almost see her bookstore dream taking wing and flying away...
Then she gasped as Wally pressed something into her hands, the hands that had grasped her Eyrie Golden Hand Mirror minutes ago. It was heavy and made a jingling noise.
It was a bag of Neopoints. Quite heavy, perhaps in the thousands. Perhaps, even twenty thousand. Rynn wondered if Wally carrying the Neopoints around was another magic trick she didn't know of.
"But...but the Rainbow Battle Duck..."
"We were successful in our ritual, yes?" Wally winked. "As promised, that's twenty thousand Neopoints! It's easy to clean up all these Battle Ducks, and with the ones I left back home in my kitchen window, we can always try it again. Make it better." The Bruce raised his flippers wide before offering one for Rynn to shake. "What do you say, my friend?"
The Eyrie didn't take long to ponder this. She smiled and let out a breath, shaking Wally's flipper.
"All right. But I'll still get paid, right?"
He chuckled. "Of course, of course! You'd better hurry and help me gather up as many Battle Ducks before the Tax Beast wakes up again, though!" This one's more straightforward: "How do we shrink this duck again?" Rynn asked as she shoved against the Rainbow Battle Duck's behind. "Battle Ducks dodge blows beautifully, Battle Ducks dodge blows beautifully..." She gritted her beak as she tried to get the words out properly.
"Yes! Battle Ducks dodge blows beautifully, Battle Ducks dodge blows beautifully!" Wally joined her as they continued pushing the Rainbow Battle Duck toward the exit.
"You won't get away without paying your taxes!" the Angry Tax Beast bellowed.
"Battle Ducks beautifully dodge bellows...ah!"
Rynn gasped. With a loud pop and a burst of multicolored light, the Rainbow Battle Duck had shrunk back into regular size, plopping into her outstretched hands.
"Oh, thank Fyora!"
"Don't thank Fyora yet, we're not out of the dome yet!" said Wally in between deep breaths as they ran full tilt out of the Battledome. "But congratulations, on a job well done! That was quick thinking with your mirror!"
The Eyrie smiled sheepishly. "Well, your ad did say safety wasn't guaranteed."
* * *
Rynn smiled as she gazed out the window at the Golden Dubloon down below. The sun had begun to set, and the crowd in her bookshop had thinned considerably. She almost didn't want the day to end, even though her legs and her wings were beginning to sag.
The bell over the front door chimed. She wondered who would come in so near closing time.
"Wally?"
The Bruce beamed and extended his flippers. "That's THE GREAT WIZARD OF WARWICK WAY, to you, my friend!" He even looked the part, with new star-studded robes and a neat-looking briefcase by his side. "Sorry I'm late, I just got another round of orders for Rainbow Battle Ducks. Oh, that poor Tax Beast doesn't know what he's in for!"
Rynn laughed. "He's probably cursing us again." Then she reached under the counter and offered him a book with a rainbow-colored cover, her signature on the lower right corner. "Here. As promised, an autographed copy of my first book, 'Battle Ducks Battle Bravely Down the Battledome'."
"Splendid!" Wally clapped with delight. "I'm honored you decided to write our adventures into a book! Look at you, putting those twenty thousand Neopoints to work!"
"E-Excuse me sir, we heard you say you're the Great Wizard of Warwick Way. A-Are you Wally, the wizard?"
Wally turned to see a young Lutari tugging at his sleeve. Behind the Lutari were several more young Neopians, and all of them were clutching Rynn's book, "Battle Ducks Battle Bravely Down the Battledome".
"Why, yes, I am! Do you require my services, young chaps? Has Rynny told you more about my feats of magickery?"
"Yes, but...we want you to sign our books."
And Rynn smiled again as she watched her friend and erstwhile business partner - and a great wizard, to boot - sign the books that told their story, with flourishes befitting a mage of his stature.
She was done with washing dishes at the Golden Dubloon, and he was done with posting ads in the Neopian Times. I'm thinking of doing a parody of The Emperor's New Groove for a starter next week. |
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Post by RielCZ on Apr 25, 2024 14:25:44 GMT -5
I ended up putting in a Y1/90s period piece starter (very very loosely based on Hey Arnold!) and you bet I'm gonna enter it again next time.  I don't usually try entering first-week slots these days, but I'll be busy next week, and I quite liked the idea that came to mind to me that I whipped up for the 4th slot. I don't believe I can make it usable anymore, so here it is: ...A wicked grin spread across Clara's face. "You're not the first seeker of that chest, with some contrived story about your relationship to Mr. Howto, you know."
Walter was dumbfounded. "Well, er, ma'am... can you tell me anything about my, er, uncle's chest?"
"I just said, I don't remember much about it," the Kyrii replied, letting a hint of irritation show in her demeanour. "And even if I did, why would I tell you rather than any of the others that came by here searching for clues?"
"Oh yes, er, you did say as much," the Blumaroo weakly agreed. And then another thought pierced his mind. "What about my... aunt?" he said meekly, taking a shot in the dark. "She'd been staying with Uncle Horace that evening."
Clara scrunched her face at Walter, scrutinizing him. "You're the first Neopet who knew that Horace was here with his wife..." she trailed. "Most Neopets knew Ilsa as his assistant, but they were married, a fact she only shared with her best friends and close family." Clara frowned pensively, and it was clear to Walter that her mind was racing. "Maybe you DO have a legitimate stake in this." She gestured for him to follow her to the kitchen just beyond the foyer and to take seat on one of the chairs.
The Blumaroo sat. "Can you tell me what you know about my, er, Aunt Ilsa?" he inquired. "There aren't many Neopets in the family that know those details, whom I could ask."
Clara nodded and joined him on a seat nearby. "Your aunt, Ms. Ilsa Howto, was devastated when her husband disappeared, of course," she started, shaking her head. "Devastated... but somehow unsurprised. I can still remember her high-pitched stammer -- 'Oh, I just knew something like this would happen to him'," the elderly Kyrii continued, seeming to mimic this supposed Ilsa. "That Aisha and I actually became friends over the years, she moved to a NeoHome not too far from The Black Barnacle. But she always said she'd take the secret of her husband's chest to her grave. It's always... haunted me, in a way."
"Hmm... maybe I should go visit, er, Aunt Ilsa," Walter mused, more to himself than to Clara. What would Ilsa know?
Clara raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. "I should hope you would know that your aunt Ilsa passed away two summers ago and is buried in the cemetery on the far west of Krawk Island?" She groaned inwardly, suppressing her apparent sadness, and shook her head. "At least, so I've heard. I've never visited there myself, I could not bear it. She was taken from this world at far too young an age."
Walter just looked up at her and blinked. "Er... my condolences, Lady Clara."
"I should say the same to you, Walter..." Clara breathed a heavy sigh. "Whether you actually are her nephew, you need not confess. But I think it would be wise if you'd stop 'soliciting' to this here poor ole woman and leave."
The Blumaroo nodded slowly... but continued nodding, more and more resolutely. "Indeed. Thank you for your time, Lady Clara," he said. "Though, I believe I will go visit my aunt." He paused for dramatic effect as she looked up at him with confused eyes. "And you're coming with me."
Clara gave a little gasp. "What?"
"You said she said she'd take the secret to her grave. Let's see what we can find there..." |
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Post by Kat on Apr 26, 2024 17:08:06 GMT -5
I'm wondering if my storytelling style isn't compatible with the competition as of late... ...and was instantly greeted by another cloud of dust. A Spyder dangled from a gossamer web in a corner of the room, and the smell of the place was exactly as Walter had imagined: musty, probably only getting its first breath of fresh air today.
Walter wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside, his fingers still on Herelocke's journal in his pocket. At first glance, notwithstanding the woebegone state of the place, the room looked ordinary. A bed with faded sheets and a deflated pillow; a worn desk with a matching, equally worn chair; a spotty mirror that had not been wiped down in years; a dusty closet whose handles were festooned with Spyderwebs.
He sighed when he saw the solitary window in the room. It could be slid open or shut, but it had bars in the windows which almost reminded him of a dungeon.
<i>Horace couldn't have escaped through the window. Even if he did...someone would have seen him. Lady Clara said The Black Barnacle used to be so much more, so surely someone else would have...noticed...</i>
Walter gritted his teeth. If Horace Howto couldn't have left the room via the window, or the door...
Trying to ignore the Spyderwebs, the Blumaroo threw open the closet; a few Spyders skittered away from the light and sound, slinking into cracks in the wood. But the closet was otherwise empty. He reached in and touched the panels on the inside and the top, even knocked on them - just like Herelocke in The Adventure of the Speckled Barbat, he thought.
That left the bottom of the closet.
Walter got onto his hands and knees and knocked. He backed away on the floor, gathering dust and cobwebs, when he heard an answering knock from below... ...and was instantly greeted by another cloud of dust. A Spyder dangled from a gossamer web in a corner of the room, and the smell of the place was exactly as Walter had imagined: musty, probably only getting its first breath of fresh air today.
Walter wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside, his fingers still on Herelocke's journal in his pocket. At first glance, notwithstanding the woebegone state of the place, the room looked ordinary. A bed with faded sheets and a deflated pillow; a worn desk with a matching, equally worn chair; a spotty mirror that had not been wiped down in years; a dusty closet whose handles were festooned with Spyderwebs.
He sighed when he saw the solitary window in the room. It could be slid open or shut, but it had bars in the windows which almost reminded him of a dungeon.
<i>Horace couldn't have escaped through the window. Even if he did...someone would have seen him. Lady Clara said The Black Barnacle used to be so much more, so surely someone else would have...noticed...</i>
Walter gritted his teeth. If Horace Howto couldn't have left the room via the window, or the door...
Trying to ignore the Spyderwebs, the Blumaroo threw open the closet; a few Spyders skittered away from the light and sound, slinking into cracks in the wood. But the closet was otherwise empty. He reached in and touched the panels on the inside and the top and the bottom, even knocked on them - just like Herelocke in The Adventure of the Speckled Barbat, he thought. It all sounded solid. No secret passages, no trapdoors.
Crawling along the floor without a care for the grime and Spyderwebs sticking to him, he reached under the bed, the table, and the chair. Nothing of note either, except the thick patina of dust. Either Horace was a fastidious inn guest...or there was more Lady Clara wasn't telling him.
Finally, he got back onto his feet and looked at the mirror. Walter managed a small smile, like in the old photographs of Herelocke. He even tried turning aside, clutching the old journal to his chest, like one portrait he had seen in a library.
<i>I almost look like him. Well, I am retracing his steps...searching the room he did...</i>
His thoughts began to trail off. Walter squinted at the mirror, but didn't focus on his reflection. Instead, he looked at the corner of the tarnished frame, took a deep breath, and reached for the mirror, pulling it off the wall with a grunt. Walter tensed before he remembered that the Elderly Kyrii was no longer a fan of climbing stairs.
Behind the mirror was a space miraculously untouched by dust, a pale rectangle that was almost like another door.
<i>A door.</i>
Walter's heart raced as he tapped the wood and was rewarded by a hollow sound. Then, using his fingernails, he probed around until he was rewarded by the outline of a real door, and he opened it to reveal... |
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Post by RielCZ on May 13, 2024 13:00:52 GMT -5
Late but congrats on winning the beginning Kat!  Looks like most of the winners have had submissions on the smaller size. I'll have to try for an entry sometime this week (despite the difficulty of writing condensed ). |
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Post by Kat on May 14, 2024 8:54:12 GMT -5
Late but congrats on winning the beginning Kat! Looks like most of the winners have had submissions on the smaller size. I'll have to try for an entry sometime this week (despite the difficulty of writing condensed ). Thanks! This was one of my rejected starters - I didn't even bother to spruce it up some more before submitting. Yeah, these were my rejects from yesterday - not at all small, and advance the plot more quickly, perhaps far more quickly than Adler tends to prefer. One of course is a reference to NQII - "...Ramtor, King Skarl's old advisor."
Jeran furrowed his brow and looked at Lisha. She looked thoughtful before saying, "Ramtor usurped the throne from King Skarl many years ago. Meridell was overrun with monsters because of him, until two heroes defeated him and freed the king."
"What happened to the young ones not knowing about these horrors?" the Lupe wondered.
"There's so little about Ramtor in Meridell's history archives," Lisha answered. "Nowadays many Meridellians believe it to be an old legend."
"But King Skarl...he could confirm or deny these old faerie tales!"
Snargan flapped his claws dismissively after picking under them for bits of Mouldy Potato. "The king would rather not speak of those horrors. Some say he was so shaken that he doesn't even remember any of it. But Ramtor is a master of disguise, skilled in illusion magics. No doubt he could fool all of us, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what he wants with the Castle Defender's Sword." The Skeith stared straight at Lisha at those words.
"Revenge," whispered Lisha.
"Another chance at the Meridell throne," said Jeran.
"That's right."
Snargan's voice changed from a gravelly, gruff tone into something that sent a chill all the way down Jeran and Lisha's tails. It was smooth, sinister, and suddenly, Snargan's chamber felt so oppressive, and they turned to run, only to find that they could barely move. It was like trying to swim against a particularly strong river current or the undertow in the sea.
"He who controls the Castle Defender's sword, controls the Castle Defender. And he who controls the Castle Defender controls the castle."
It was no longer Snargan standing in front of Jeran and Lisha. In the place of the Skeith was a blue Bruce in raggedy robes and sporting a disheveled beard. Worse, in the Bruce's hands was a huge, broad, ghostly blade that thrummed with power.
"The sword!" Jeran cried, struggling against the spell that held him tightly.
"...And he who controls Meridell Castle, controls Meridell," Ramtor finished, grinning terribly at both of them. He raised the Castle Defender's sword and... "...the Shadow Knight."
Jeran immediately looked to Lisha, hoping she would know something, anything. But the Aisha had nothing to say, and shook her head.
Snargan shrugged, picking under his claws for bits of Mouldy Potato. "Eh, can't blame you for not knowing, lil' genius. See, the Shadow Knight was the Castle Defender's greatest enemy, when they were both alive."
"How could he have bought the sword if he was dead in the first place?" Jeran blurted out.
"Sheesh, have some patience, young knight." The Lupe bristled at the word "young" but clammed up. "Like the Castle Defender, the Shadow Knight lives on as a spectre. But unlike the Castle Defender, the Shadow Knight vanished entirely from the castle...or so I thought. He learned terrible magics to ensure Meridell's victory in ancient wars and sought to conquer as much of Neopia as he could. But the Castle Defender stopped him, and they say he's the only force strong and powerful enough to keep the Shadow Knight at bay."
"What kind of terrible...magics, did he learn?" Lisha asked slowly.
"Possession magic. The disappearance of the Blumaroo knight is no coincidence; the Shadow Knight may have chosen to possess him as a vessel." Snargan smiled mirthlessly. "Poor bloke."
"Okay, I get that they were enemies, but why does the Shadow Knight want the Castle Defender's sword - "
<i>To destroy the Castle Defender, Meridell Castle's greatest protector, once and for all. Just like he defeated me.</i>
Jeran, Lisha, and even Snargan fell silent and looked around. Materialising in their midst was a Blumaroo knight in pitch black armour, carrying a huge, ghostly broadsword. An opening in the Blumaroo's helm revealed a horrible smirk, and though his mouth did not move, the haunting voice echoed all around Snargan's chambers.
<i>The Castle Defender is not the great hero you think him to be,</i> the Shadow Knight hissed as he raised the blade... |
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Post by RielCZ on May 17, 2024 16:58:36 GMT -5
Here is what I'd put in for the ending. ..."Don't lie to your prime knight!" King Hagan exclaimed, entirely lucid. "You know PRECISELY why I'm combatting you!"
King Skarl grunted and made a lunge at his brother. "I already told you!" He parried. "I am NOT trading Windelle to Team Brightvale!"
"Come on!" Hagan groaned as he leapt back. "You won two years ago--"
"We were CHEATED two years ago!" Skarl roared as he thrust his blade into his brother's heavy robes -- but not hard enough to actually pierce his flesh.
Hagan was breathing heavy from the exhaustion, and lowered his sword -- the Castle Defender's Sword. "You know Team Meridell won, I know Meridell won, come on, let your dear ol' brother's Kingdom have a chance at the Cup!"
"NO!" Skarl bellowed as he threw down his sword and folded his arms. "Not even in exchange for the Castle Defender's sword."
Lisha and Jeran looked at each other and merely gaped in disbelief.
King Hagan wasn't cursed... he just had Altador Cup fever!
And the Castle Defender's sword, which Jeran would use to vanquish the great darkness, was caught up... in an Altador Cup squabble!? And King Skarl knew about it the whole time?
"My King," Jeran petitioned as he bowed before his monarch, "that sword, owned by the Castle Defender, is of utmost importance to Meridell and any impending battle she might face. I would think it would be prudent to keep the sword in Meridell's possession despite the cost."
"Hard pass," Skarl replied quickly. "Meridell's Altador Cup team WILL stay intact. THAT is the most important thing to me and to citizen morale. But if you have any other ideas to trade for the sword, feel free to pitch them."
The Lupe bit back a scowl before he turned to Hagan. "King Hagan... what if you let me coach your Yooyuball Team?"
The Kingly brothers raised their eyebrows in unison.
"You know Yooyuball?" Hagan inquired skeptically.
"I've played recreationally for years," Jeran replied truthfully. "And I have great stamina and form when it comes to battling, I'm sure that can be extended to the Yooyuball field."
"Dearest brother," Lisha started as she approached them. "Are you sure it's wise for you to be away from Meridell during the, er, coming time of darkness?" she asked, her voice hardly above a whisper, her pleading eyes wide and scared.
Jeran took Lisha aside. "If the 'great shadow' is what I think it is... if it's what Orion predicted..." the Lupe trailed and narrowed his eyes. "Then, it will come into full force in Altador during the Altador Cup, before spreading outward, completely overpowering Meridell. I think it will be best if I am right at the shadow's epicentre, and with my skills and the Castle Defender's Sword, I may be able to do something to stop it."
The Aisha did not look pleased. But she trusted him, and she nodded resolutely. "Then do what must be done, brother."
The Lupe nodded at her before turning back toward the leader of Brightvale. "King Hagan... Do we have a deal?"
***
The fateful sword on his back, Jeran departed for Altador, where he would rendezvous with Team Brightvale.
"I'll miss you brother!" Lisha exclaimed, stopping him before he left the Meridell Castle walls.
He turned around and smiled. "I'll miss you too, sister."
"Stay safe." She gave him a big hug.
He hugged her back. "You too. Darkness is coming... but I'm going to do my best to ensure it doesn't get me or the Neopets I love." He booped her nose and she giggled.
At least his dreams about the Castle Defender had ceased.
And then he was off, out of view, out of the castle, over the hilly fields, over the horizon.
"I love you too, brother..." she trailed.
Lisha headed back to Meridell Castle's Library. It was her go-to destination when she wanted to take her mind off things.
THE END Possibly too much mood whiplash. But I thought connecting it to current Neopian events would have been interesting. |
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Post by Kat on May 17, 2024 18:39:56 GMT -5
Here was my shot at the ending. Decided to make it a case of "you were not worthy of the thing" Jeran moved to draw his sword, then realized that he was still wearing a guardsman's garb - without the guardsman's weapon, let alone his own. He felt his stomach sink as he tried to think of another plan.
King Hagan was wielding a huge, broad, ghostly blade wreathed in shadowy mist that had to be the Castle Defender's sword, a crazed and almost faraway glint in his eyes. Though it was unwieldy in his grasp, he nevertheless swung at his brother dangerously, forcing King Skarl against his own throne. He blocked Hagan's blows with his sword from where he was, but Jeran knew Skarl would not be able to last for long.
The blue Lupe made a snap decision and threw himself toward Hagan.
"Jeran!" Lisha cried.
It was much harder to tackle Hagan to the floor than Kanrik; the king of Brightvale now turned the Castle Defender's sword toward Jeran, who was only armed with his fists and his feet.
But between them, Jeran was the stronger, more experienced fighter. He reached out and grabbed hold of the sword hilt, which was terribly cold to the touch. The mist thickened into dark smoke, but Jeran could see that the glazed look in Hagan's eyes was alleviated somewhat.
Well, the Lupe thought to himself, his mind feeling like it was filling with the mist from the sword, now would be a good time to get back at Hagan for his snobbery toward Meridell.
As the two of them grappled for control of the sword, Jeran kneed Hagan in the gut and followed it with a headbutt that dazed the green Skeith. With an almighty roar, Jeran seized that opportunity to pull the sword away from him, and the sudden weight of the weapon and the momentum carried the knight and his burden straight onto the floor.
"What the...Skarl? Sir Jeran? What's going on?"
Hagan struggled to get back onto his feet, groaning, panting, and rubbing his head. His eyes were lucid, and he immediately hurried toward Skarl to help him up.
"Leave me alone!" Skarl snarled, slowly raising his gilded sword.
"I...no, brother, look! I'm unarmed!" Hagan spread his empty hands in front of Skarl. "Sir Jeran took the sword away from me! Where is he..."
Lisha had hurried over to her brother, who was still sprawled on the floor, both hands gripping the hilt of the huge sword. The mist had receded into thin, white wisps that vanished into the air; she could have sworn they formed ever so briefly into the face of a hardened Kougra before disappearing.
"Are you all right?" she asked, touching his shoulder.
Jeran managed a crooked grin. "Yeah, Lisha," he answered, still holding the sword. "I'm okay. Just...tired."
"But how? King Hagan and the Castle Defender's sword..."
Hagan cleared his throat as he and Skarl approached them. "I think I can answer that question, young one."
"I sure hope so, you owe us a lot of answers!" Skarl interjected, rubbing his back. "And you owe me an apology!"
"I'm getting to that, brother," said Hagan impatiently, flapping a hand dismissively. "Some time back, I heard reports of a young Blumaroo knight who had fished a large sword from the Rubbish Dump. I knew the Castle Defender's sword had been missing for a long time - with no war, there was no need to summon the Castle Defender, surely - but I didn't think it would wind up in the dump. I had to study it first, but I did plan on sharing my findings later on."
"Your Majesty, with all due respect...why hire Kanrik?" Jeran asked weakly, with the slightest hint of annoyance.
A fleeting, mischievous grin tugged at Hagan's lips. "Because I did not want to be disturbed while I studied this strange sword. Especially not by my brother over here. Unfortunately, Kanrik drove a hard bargain." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, the sword, ah, let's just say it does not take well to just anyone wielding it. And I believe...that, and its absence away from the kingdom it is bound to protect, has corrupted the power within."
"Which explains why...Jeran is unaffected," Lisha remarked, watching her brother finally sit up with a deep breath.
"Correct," said Hagan, nodding. "Well, if nothing else...we've finally confirmed that this sword is really the Castle Defender's sword. And he has deemed Sir Jeran, also a defender of Meridell, worthy of wielding it."
"So, now that we've found the sword, what do we do with it?" Lisha wondered. "The 'threat' the Castle Defender warned Jeran about in his dreams is gone."
Finally Jeran stood up, bracing the sword across his shoulder.
"Let's keep it somewhere, where it won't wind up in the Rubbish Dump again, just in case a real threat does show up in Meridell." I have a LOT of rejects for the second week, some of which I thought were pretty good (I thought making Morguss the mastermind was significant considering it was Moehog Day this week) but eh. It feels like after I took a STC hiatus (and even before that) it's been hard for me to get back into the game. I've tried to do shorter, simpler entries and that hasn't panned out well for me, so I see no point in changing everything I know now. |
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Post by Kat on May 24, 2024 17:39:52 GMT -5
Here's my rejects for the first half of the story. It looks like Adler wants to completely lean into the support group angle WITHOUT the suspense or weird things. "Dear Baelia,
I hope you are well. I apologize for not coming sooner, but I've finally arrived in Faerieland, to investigate the grey curse that has been spreading across Neopia. I'm wondering if it is like, well, what happened to you, when your wings were taken away and you had to find a new name.
I promise I'm also still working on that. Finding you a new name so you can become a light faerie again.
Anyway, Queen Fyora has allowed me to lend her scholars a hand, after hearing about how I freed you. I really want to visit you, but she's kept me quite busy. Why don't you meet me at Faerie Palace? Maybe then the queen will allow me to take a short break?
Sincerely,
Tavi."
Baelia smiled, despite current events in Neopia still weighing heavily in the back of her mind. Tavi was the red Kyrii who had undone Jennumara's trap, freeing her and promising to help her find a new name that would give her new wings. Tavi's research into Baelia's plight had sent her to various corners of the world, and Baelia eventually lost touch with her.
Still, the Grey Faerie had faith in Tavi's determination and cleverness. Maybe Tavi could solve the mystery of the grey curse, in the same way that she figured out how Jennumara had imprisoned Baelia.
Tucking the note into her pocket, Baelia walked - after all, her paltry wings could barely lift her off the ground - to Faerie Palace, and came to the double doors that led to Fyora's domain.
"Halt! Who goes there?" a faerie Kougra asked dramatically, toting a large lavender spear.
Their faerie Moehog companion jabbed them with his elbow. "That's Baelia, Darral. Don't be silly."
"Sorry, just wanted to...spice things up a bit." Darral grinned sheepishly. "Are you looking for the queen, Baelia?"
Baelia shook her head. "No, I'm looking for a red Kyrii named Tavi. She said she was here, researching the grey curse that is affecting many parts of Neopia..."
Darral and the Moehog, Milton, traded a look. Milton cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Um...we've kept track of everyone who has gone in and out of Faerie Palace the past several days since the grey incident started, and we're pretty sure a red Kyrii named Tavi ever came in here..."
"I know how the grey curse can be cured. Meet me tonight, at ten o'clock, at the Hidden Tower."
Baelia gasped, and turned the note over and over. It was written in glistening black ink, but the curling script was alien to her, and there was no signature. There was nothing on the envelope either, that would tell her who had written or sent the note.
But Baelia, who had always wanted to help others after Tavi the Kyrii had freed her from Jennumara's prison, was determined to do something, anything, that could reverse the grey curse that had been spreading across Neopia. With a pang in her heart, she realised that if this continued, others, like her beloved petpets or even Queen Fyora, would be affected as well.
This was the only lead she had, even if it may lead to a dead end.
Baelia decided that she wouldn't throw it away.
* * *
Night fell upon Faerieland, a thick and starless blanket of darkness draped over the land that seemed to be as gloomy as the grey curse. Baelia drew her cloak tightly around herself as she walked toward the place where she knew the Hidden Tower to be, after quite some time working there.
She looked around, and couldn't see anyone. Baelia frowned; had this note led her to a dead end after all.
The Grey Faerie whipped around at the sound of footsteps...and a voice.
"Ah, you got my note."
Her eyes widened when she saw who it was. "You're..." Baelia remembered a dress she used to wear, when she was still a Light Faerie, before she lost her wings.
It was sunny yellow, with a beautiful silk sash, short scalloped sleeves, and a pale goldenrod hem. But even after Tavi the Kyrii rescued her, and after she learned to stand on her own two feet again, Baelia never got the confidence to wear that dress again.
She frowned and steeled herself.
If she was going to meet others who likely had loved ones affected by the grey curse - unless they themselves had been afflicted - Baelia decided she would not add to their misery. She would do her best, play her part, to bring something better than being grey.
Her frown deepened, however, when she saw the dress. It was creased, and a little dusty, from hanging out in a dark corner of her closet.
<i>Well, I have until this evening to spruce this up,</i> she thought as she took the dress down gently like it was one of her petpets.
* * *
Baelia wondered if putting on her old dress - no longer looking so old - could help her find a new name and regain her wings.
When Tavi freed her, the Grey Faerie had decided to seek out a new name and new wings, and the Kyrii had promised to do her part, as well. Baelia wondered where Tavi was, now, and if she had found any leads, and if those leads would be related to the spreading grey curse.
Though she had to travel on foot, it didn't take long for Baelia to reach the Faerieland Book Shop. And though the evening was dark - and felt darker than usual - the windows were alight, and she could hear sounds of conversation, dining, and even dancing.
She managed a smile; the Library Faerie must have allowed the commotion and hubbub if it meant a respite from the gloom and grey.
Baelia grasped the knob of the door and stepped inside, holding her head up high with some effort.
"Baelia! It's so nice to see you! And you look...you look radiant!"
The Library Faerie's eyes lit up at the sight of her, and shook her hand jovially. Looking around, Baelia noticed that the bookshelves had been pushed to the walls to make room for tables and chairs and an array of tea, coffee, and various snacks, some of which flitted about on faerie wings and landed in guests' empty plates.
Not a few Neopians glanced up to see the Grey Faerie in her yellow dress. The glimmer of hope in her heart began to swell as she saw smile after smile, saw grey Neopians try to follow suit even though it probably pained them to do so.
Unfortunately, before Baelia's mood could soar, it plummeted, and she felt as though she couldn't smile anymore, even in her bright outfit.
Tucked away in a corner was a grey Kyrii somberly staring into a cold cup of tea, and she met Baelia's gaze with a baleful stare that seemed to grip the Grey Faerie's heart with an icy claw.
"No," Baelia whispered. "Tavi..."
Baelia remembered a dress she used to wear, when she was still a Light Faerie, before she lost her wings.
It was sunny yellow, with a beautiful silk sash, short scalloped sleeves, and a pale goldenrod hem. But even after Tavi the Kyrii rescued her, and after she learned to stand on her own two feet again, Baelia never got the confidence to wear that dress again.
She frowned and steeled herself.
If she was going to meet others who likely had loved ones affected by the grey curse - unless they themselves had been afflicted - Baelia decided she would not add to their misery. She would do her best, play her part, to bring something better than being grey.
Her frown deepened, however, when she opened her closet and saw the dress. It was creased, and a little dusty, from hanging out in a dark corner all this time. She had to reach up and brush some Spyder webs off the sash, and felt her mood begin to ebb away like a wave returning to the sea.
<i>Maybe I shouldn't go,</i> Baelia thought, the glimmer of hope in her heart resembling a feebly flickering candle flame on the brink of going out. Her poor dress...months, even years, of neglect had worn it out. Would she even have it ready by this evening for the event? Or should she just...show up in her usual tattered outfit?
But then she remembered the grey curse, a shadow over Neopia. This event was supposed to help fight it, not invite it.
Baelia took the dress down and stared at it. There were even discolored spots on the torso and skirt, now that she got a closer look at it.
"All right," she said to herself. Perhaps if she said it aloud, she could convince even herself. "I can have this cleaned up by evening, but first, I need..."
"...Mister Smile Withme!"
Baelia heard scattered clapping and some mutterings that sounded like cheering had become too much of a bother for the audience. Smile Withme emerged, clad in his suit and top hat and toting a cane. His face was obscured by a somewhat unnerving, smiling white mask, and he raised his arms as though expecting a better, more energetic response.
If anyone remembered who Smile Withme really was, they were too steeped in their own gloom to comment, or care. Baelia remembered too, but decided to let him speak.
"Ah, well, I learned my lesson last April Fool's. Positivity is more than just tossing out motivational posters and wearing masks. But I'm so happy to see all of you here tonight!"
Smile Withme whipped his mask off with a flourish. No one was surprised to see that it was none other than Chadley, the green Zafara who had donned the mask once before, for April Fool's. Beneath the mask, he was smiling as he surveyed the event goers, his eyes hovering over each of them. Baelia could have sworn that his stare lingered over her for a little while longer, but she barely had time to contemplate that as he launched into more of his speech.
"Fighting the grey curse is going to take a lot of effort, but I'm sure we can do it! The fact that you all came out here is more than enough! Give yourselves a round of applause!"
Chadley clapped cheerily; he and the Library Faerie more than made up for the second round of scattered, muted clapping. Baelia clapped too, trying to psych herself up inwardly. smiling back wanly at the Zafara.
"Thank you, Mister...um, am I still supposed to call you..."
"For this event, call me Smile Withme! The more we say it, the more we'll be able to do it." Chadley winked and flashed one of his award-winning grins.
"All right, Smile Withme, we are very thankful to have you here with us," said the Library Faerie. She whipped out a clipboard from thin air. "Now, our first activity tonight is..."
She was interrupted by Chadley waving his hand vigorously after glancing over her shoulder at the clipboard. "Oh, no, no, no, we're not starting with THAT. We're going to start with..." |
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Post by RielCZ on May 31, 2024 12:31:55 GMT -5
Congrats to the winners this week! I especially liked your attempt to introduce Smile Withme, Kat . STC be difficult lately, but at least it looks like a few old timers are getting back in. I liked the ending, and it made sense within the story. My endings had a few similar themes, but I turned the Library Faerie grey and tried to be more introspective on Baelia's part. ...Baelia's eyes adjusted and rested on a new faerie, absently sorting books into 2 piles.
This new faerie was yet another grey faerie.
A grey faerie like Kari. Not like Baelia.
Oh no...
The grey Library Faerie looked up and gave a soft, faraway smile as the members of the support group gingerly approached her. "Looks like the curse got me too." She sighed and set her current book down. A long frown spread across her face, and her tired eyes closed under the weight of 1000 books. The Library Faerie slumped over her desk, sending the books thereon tumbling haphazardly to the library's faux-marble tile floor.
The mood in the room fell immediately at witnessing their confidante softly sobbing. Their champion was reduced to the same state as the rest of them.
Well, almost the rest of them.
Trudy, still her normal neurotic self, started muttering and pacing around the room in a panicked frenzy. "How could this happen!? Under our tight watch. And why not me? Oh dear me what's happening!?..."
Baelia took a deep breath. Not entirely sure what she was doing, she walked up to Trudy and pulled the Ixi in for an empathetic hug.
Trudy froze, and then relaxed. And then the Neopet, too, started to sob. "Whyyyyyy," she moaned.
"Hey... you're OK," Baelia started with a warm albeit cautious smile. "Yeah... This situation sucks and we're all scared. But what's important is that you weren't turned grey. And you still have the evidence. And I know you're good at crunching numbers... you'll piece this together. And I'll help where I can."
The Ixi managed a tiny smile.
The glimmer of hope in Baelia's heart blossomed, and with it came a newfound sense of resolve... and maybe purpose?
Yes, she was a grey faerie. Nae, THE grey faerie of Neopia. But she wasn't always that way... maybe she had come to let her melancholy, her downtroddenness, over losing her magic those many moons ago define her. She had let her dejection consume her.
Whereas for those afflicted with the grey curse... even if the hopeless end result was the same as for Baelia, it wasn't a choice for them. This curse had been cast upon them by whomever was leaving behind this supposed sad sand.
Was Baelia's own gloom her own choice? Well... not really. Or, not always. One cannot always choose to be happy, and sometimes sorrow simply is inescapable. Baelia nevertheless reflected... beyond securing her position assisting Fyora in the Hidden Tower, had she even made any actionable efforts to try to turn her despair around?
Action. A call to action.
The Library Faerie had reached out to and invited Baelia so the grey faerie wouldn't be... alone. Surely Baelia could reach out to the Library Faerie, too? At least in spirit. She knew she had to at least try.
Baelia cleared her throat. "In light of recent events," she declared to the group, "or, er, in grey of recent events... I will henceforth assume the role of host for this support, discussion, and... friendship group." She managed another small smile. "Not for my sake, but to help out the Library Faerie." She paused and thought.
Actually... for my sake, too. Indeed, maybe having a group to look forward to each week would help erode the walls she built, those that guarded her vulnerability, her pain.
"May misery be defeated by the company of others!" she almost but not quite exclaimed. "Thank you all for your contributions today... Those who are affected, please clean the sand so to prevent further incidents, and then just spend the rest of today, not in research, but simply to be with each other. Please enjoy each other's company. Together, we will defeat the curse! At least, we will come to manage it and our feelings. Together."
As the group chattered and dispersed into smaller parties, Baelia walked over to the refreshment table and took some cookies.
Trudy, though at first disappointed by the research portion being cut short, nodded with acknowledgement that this was the best course of action. She trotted over to Baelia and smiled. "Thank you, Baelia. For everything"
The grey faerie smiled back. "And thank you, and all of you," she added a touch louder, "for giving me something to believe in again. Even if it's just fleeting, it is infinitely better than the alternative." She sighed. "Even if this feeling is just for the moment."
But... something tells me that this time, the spark might just stay.
THE END Alas, I'll have to wait yet another story before I can start submitting AC starters. (However, I have been trying to get in a Y1-themed starter for the past few contests, though I've mostly relegated trying to get that one in closer to the 25th anniversary.) |
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Post by RielCZ on Jun 4, 2024 20:14:54 GMT -5
And here was the other fun STC-related thing tttxyv and I did during our meetup! We audiobook-style live recorded STC 915! The wild, self-insert classic. Uploaded to commemorate the 2-year anniversary of its end... so hard to believe it's already been 2 years (+ a day)! Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff) Rabbit ♠ Kat jeran |
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Post by RielCZ on Jun 14, 2024 13:10:04 GMT -5
I put in this for the ending. I guess, undoubtedly too long for the current STC, but I had TWISTS and IDEAS. ...The Bank Manger gaped at her. "You do? How do you know him?"
"He was at the Vending Machine earlier today. He wanted to spend 50 Nerkmids!" Nova explained, not trying to hide her exasperation at the thought.
"He must have bought them because he knew the swap was going to happen. He wasn't going to open an antiques shop, rather, he was going to profit from reselling the Nerkmids at exorbitant prices!" the conundrum Lenny declared, slamming his fist against the table.
The Bank Manager released a heavy sigh. "Oh my... if it got out that the bank loaned money for someone who had illicit intentions..." He shook his head. "That wouldn't be good for us at all." His face turned even greyer than before.
"What's the guy's name?" Pallen asked Nova.
"I didn't get it," the Aisha replied sadly. She looked up at the Bank Manager expectantly.
The Skeith shook his big head. "Unfortunately, I can't just give you his information. That would violate the bank's various confidentiality agreements." He stood up and walked toward the room's exit. "It's time we go." But before he left, he nodded toward the file, winked, and turned his back on the trio.
Quickly, Pallen opened it and read the details, before closing it.
"Just remember this before publicly revealing the role of the National Neopian in this," the Bank Manager whispered, hardly moving his lips.
The three followed the Skeith out the door before departing the bank.
***
Led by Nova, the trio arrived back at the Vending Machine.
The Grarrl's arms were crossed and he was tapping his foot impatiently. "About time you came back," he muttered. "I should call your manager and get you fired for leaving your post."
"Think again... MARCUS," Pallen retorted, folding his arms as well.
The Grarrl's jaw stiffened. "How do you know my name? "
Nova pointed a finger at him accusingly. "We know you've been swept up in a sinister plot to swap the vending machine prizes and the Quest Log prizes," she hissed, her voice hardly above a whisper. "You were going to use those Nerkmids to fund your 'rare and valuable' items shop -- on paper, anyway.
"But you were REALLY using the large amount of upfront capital to buy Nerkmids en masse, and stock your buddy's shop with them!" Pallen accused.
Marcus sighed and raised his hands in a disarming motion. "Really, you have to believe me... but you've got it all wrong! I'm not the criminal mastermind here. I was just hired by them to go out and procure all the Nerkmids. OK, yes, I drafted the business proposal because I knew that the Vending Machine / Quest Log prize swap was going to happen, and I knew as well that I was planning on keeping 50 or maybe 100 Nerks to myself rather than give them all up... You know, get some rare prizes and sell them before their mass deflation..." He trailed and looked off to the side. "But I didn't get the loan to buy and sell Nerkmids. It wasn't even my idea to swap the prizes, honest! I don't have the clearance to even attempt an endeavour like that." He pet his Rainblug once again.
The Lenny cocked his head to the side. "And who DOES have the wealth AND clearance?"
The Grarrl stared deep into his eyes. "It's an inside job. Look to the source of your change of shipping label request."
"Hmm..." the Lenny thought aloud as he took back the clipboard Pallen had been holding. "The signature authorizing the request to swap the prizes' shipping labels was left blank." He squinted his eyes. "WAIT! This change of shipping address paperwork, swapping the address of the prizes to be delivered at the Daily Quests Division of the Welcome Centre to instead be delivered at the Alien Aisha Vending Machine, was printed on the official letterhead of the Welcome Centre. And literally, who else could the request have come from and still be considered valid? That, coupled with a Neopet with wealth..."
The three exchanged glances and started to run off. But then Nova turned around and shouted at Marcus, "Don't call and get me fired for leaving the machine, and I'll tell the Bank Manager you're actually on the up-and-up!"
The Grarrl gave her a thumbs up.
***
The trio arrived at the Welcome Centre.
"Good after--! Oh, it's you," huffed the pink Uni as she watched the three slide right past her toward the offices. "Yeah yeah, just traipse on past, why not!" she shouted after them, but they were already gone, bursting their way into Hannah's office.
"Hannah!" Nova exclaimed, pointing yet another finger at yet another suspect. "What do you know about the individual who submitted the change of address form regarding the Quest Log prizes? We traced it to YOUR office." And then her voice faltered. "It... it couldn't have been you. Who impersonated you? Or who put you up to it?"
Hannah glared at her. And then a thin smile spread across her lips. "Aye... it was me. I was the mastermind behind all this. Ye got me."
The Aisha, heartbroken, placed a hand on Hannah's shoulder yet again. "But why? Why would you willing sabotage the Daily Quests?"
The Usul's eyes went maddeningly wide. "Do ye know what it's LIKE to have a customer facin' job? To have to put on a pleasant smile and give out prizes, be on the beck and call, when really all you want to do is go out and adventure again?" But there was a hint of bemusement behind her stare; indeed, Hannah was being jestingly facetious, for of course she knew of Nova's customer service woes.
At once, Nova understood and gave her acquaintance a resolute nod.
"I took this job," Hannah continued, "because the new leaders of Neopia Central were lookin' for a celebrity to endorse their Quest Log idea. I thought it would be an easy way to reap some cash. But after almost a year into me two-year contract with the Log... I just wanna go back to treasure huntin'." She sighed heavily. "I thought havin' the prizes screwed up might get me fired."
"OK, so," Nova started, wanting to confirm she had the details. "You, tired of running the Daily Quests, wanted to be fired and let go of your Daily Quests celebrity endorsement contract. So, you had the Daily Quests prizes sent to the Vending Machine, and vice versa, and you were gonna make it look like an honest mistake, but get so much flak that you'd be let go for sure. And you, also knowing the economic implications of this, used Neopoints from your stockpiles of treasure to hire Marcus to buy a Fyora-ton of Nerkmids for you to resell, thus cornering the market? So we gleaned from the Shop Wizard, anyway, with only one shop selling them."
The Usul nodded. "Hey, if I'm already goin' through the trouble, may as well make some more profits on me way out." She grinned. "And I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for ye pesky Neopets!" She giggled to herself. "I always wanted to say that."
"Who WAS running your shop, anyway?" Nova inquired.
"Ye obviously learned their name from the Shop Wiz's fance wall machines?" she inquired. "The only shopkeep sellin' Nerks."
"Al E. Ace Shmargel," the Lenny said confidently, tapping his forehead. "I have an eidetic memory."
Pallen facepalmed. "Obviously fake."
"Right," Hannah quickly replied, pointing to the Eyrie. "That Bori's identity is a secret I'll take to me watery grave," she finished, still wearing a hint of a smile.
***
"The change of address form, requesting Neopia's Vending Machine prizes to be delivered back to the Vending Machine instead of the Welcome Centre, was submitted. I'm just glad everything got sorted out in the end," Arlox said to his employee, on the other end of the line.
"Indeed," Nova responded. Indeed indeed. Over the past couple days since the incident, Hannah was found at fault for (albeit unintentional) incompetence and dismissed from her position. She seemed very happy to be.
And then a realization hit her.
Hannah had sent one from their side, requesting the change from the Daily Quests office to the Vending Machine. That made sense. But who had sent the paperwork from the Alien Aisha Vending Machine Co.'s side? The one that must have asked for the change of address in gross foods and such from the Vending Machine to the--
"I think you deserve a promotion after all this," Arlox continued, his voice firm. "Slightly larger pay. A longer lunch break. And to celebrate, I'll order you a nice big pizza from Pizzaroo, right to the Vending Machine, for your lunch tomorrow. Just tell me the toppings you'd like."
She squeed and told the toppings. It had crossed her mind to follow in Hannah's footsteps and just quit. But, this exchange gave her the motivation to carry on another day. "Thank you so much, boss!"
"You're welcome Nova. Have a great rest of the afternoon." Arlox hung up the line and smirked. Low-level employees were too easy to manipulate.
And then he sighed. Hannah held up her side of the deal, so he couldn't fault her for that. Nevertheless, he was really hoping it would have taken longer before this whole mess was solved, but the Welcome Centre and Neopia Central acted faster than he anticipated...
He took a bite out of his Bluna Burger, which he'd bought for 10 NP.
Still. He had his cut from the Nerkmid sales. For a couple of amazing days, the Vending Machine on Neopia had tons of visitors.
And, most importantly, he had a new stockpile of his favourite gross foods, which for a time had rapidly deflated when everyone got them as Daily Quest prizes.
He chuckled to himself and took another bite.
THE END |
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Post by RielCZ on Jun 20, 2024 12:24:57 GMT -5
The Lost Desert is my favourite land so I really want to be in this story. As such, I've been submitting something for every slot. I entered for slots 2 and 3 and tried bringing in the grey curse, and after those were unsuccessful I wrote a non-grey curse-themed entry for slot 4... in which the winning entry brought in the grey curse. Also, congrats to Chocolate for the win earlier this week! |
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Post by Chocolate on Jun 20, 2024 17:43:15 GMT -5
Thank you so much! I was thrown a bit because I literally got the Neomail from TNT and got so excited...but it was just the marketing email about the NC stuff. Then after I got the Neomail saying I won immediately after and assumed it was just another marketing one xD Good luck RielCZ! I will be rooting for you to win this week |
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Post by Kat on Jun 21, 2024 6:31:31 GMT -5
I entered for slots 2 and 3 and tried bringing in the grey curse, and after those were unsuccessful I wrote a non-grey curse-themed entry for slot 4... in which the winning entry brought in the grey curse. LOL I feel this so much especially when I get this great idea, I don't get in, and the winning entry has almost the same idea as I do. Entries have been going up earlier than my usual storytelling entry-typing time (East Coast time, I suppose) so that's giving me less time to work on entries depending on how much time I spend at work and flopping uselessly at home after work. |
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Post by Chocolate on Jun 27, 2024 9:49:18 GMT -5
Grats Rielcz!
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Choco || Neopets Username: Icesmith 
