xinoehp512

The third round has concluded! Congratulations to @Frustration and @Channelknight Fadran for tying for first place with "The Guide" and Submission #8, respectively! Congratulations to @Mystic Syn, @Knight of Iron, and @Aspiring Writer for tying for third place with "An Act of Dying Justice", "Story", and "The Relation of Expectations.docx" respectively! The current standings are as follows. @Aspiring Writer: 12 votes @Mystic Syn: 9 votes @Frustration: 9 votes @Zephrun's Imperium: 9 votes @Channelknight Fadran: 9 votes @Knight of Iron: 7 votes @Experience: 7 votes @The Unknown Order: 7 votes @Mage: 5 votes @WrathofaShardKitten: 5 votes @Condensation: 3 votes @Isabelle6060: 2 votes Fourth Round: Video Video is the recording/reproduction of moving images - or at least, the illusion of motion through quick cycling of still images. Oftentimes, audio is added alongside, to enhance the experience. It is perhaps the best art for creating the illusion of reality in the mind of the observer. It is now your turn to create these illusions. In this round, you will be creating a video. Submissions should be in a video format, meaning that it displays a series of images in succession. Submissions should be experienceable by all. If any participants are hesitant to create submissions due to limitations on knowledge or ability to manipulate video, I am willing to assist in overcoming these challenges. Get creating!

@The Unknown Order @Zephrun's Imperium @Mage @Knight of Iron Please vote!

This game goes fast though

Submissions are in! Thank you so much to everyone who entered a submission! As a reminder: @Aspiring Writer @Experience @The Unknown Order @Zephrun's Imperium @Frustration @Mage @Knight of Iron @Isabelle6060 @Mystic Syn @Condensation @WrathofaShardKitten @Channelknight Fadran If anyone has trouble viewing any of the submissions, please let me know!

In general, submissions will be accepted until the vote is put up. The author counted frantically. Five! He had made a grave error. Six tales had been requested, and he had only delivered five. He'd been in such a hurry to get them in on time he'd completely missed one! Well, there was no help for it. He'd have to write one up quickly, and hope it wasn't too late. He snatched his pencil and paper, poised to write, and.... nothing. Oh no, oh no, not now!!! he thought, mentally inserting three exclamation points into his dismay. Writer's block! The curse of narrative artists everywhere. Despite his commitments, he simply could not think of anything to write! His eyes glanced frantically around the room, but no object sparked a thought. Blinds, nothing. Table, nothing. Concrete slab with a pillow on it, nothing. Then he turned his eyes to the empty paper, and an idea suddenly blossomed. He picked up the pencil and began to write. The author counted frantically...

It quickly mimicked an apple.

Eh, I'm fine with ending it. I vote No.

@Zephrun's Imperium, @Mystic Syn, @Frustration, @Mage, @WrathofaShardKitten, @The Unknown Order: Thank you for your submissions! @Aspiring Writer, @Experience, @Channelknight Fadran, @Knight of Iron, @Isabelle6060, @Condensation: Please enter any submissions today, if you can!

On the first day, the story began. On the second day, the hero was introduced. On the third day, the villain arose. On the fourth day, the hero fled. On the fifth day, the hero learned. On the sixth day, the hero triumphed. On the seventh day, the story ended.

A continuation of this. Cynthia watched closely as her father split in two. It happened in an instant: one moment, there was one of him; the next, there were two. Both copies opened their eyes and looked back at Cynthia with eerie synchronicity. "Replication," they said in unity. "The power at the core of our essence." Cynthia returned the gaze with curiosity. "What does that mean? We were created from that power?" The Rekaerbs blinked, and one vanished out of existence. "I... well, I don't know. I don't remember how I was created. That was a long time ago, in a different world." He shrugged. "I've had the ability to replicate for as long as I could remember. It's the power I use the most, and the one I understand the best." He looked at Cynthia, then sighed. "Well. Thought I understood the best." "I apologize for disturbing your own self-understanding," replied Cynthia solemnly. Rekaerb raised an eyebrow slightly. "...Don't mention it." He shook his head. "Anyways. We're not here for me, we're here for you. You have the ability to replicate, I take it?" "Yes," replied Cynthia. "I am certain. It is my birthright." "Do it, then." Cynthia closed her eyes and reached within. At first, the swirling threads of blue representing her energy to her mind's eye were unreadable. She moved her mental gaze from one thread to another, following the threads like one untying a knot. But the power shifted ever so slightly as she viewed it, frustrating her attempts at understanding it. Thoughts snuck into her mind. What if... she didn't have the ability her father had? Her heart rate quickened at the thought, her eyes twitching behind her tightly shut lids, and her hands clenching into fists. "Don't think about it too hard," advised Rekaerb. "Like I said. Just... do it." Cynthia hesitated. Perhaps...? She reached out to the tangled knot in her mind, but this time- instead of untangling it - she pulled. Cynthia opened her eyes and saw herself.

Hmm. Fair. In which case, I will vote TJ.

Oh, the time has flown... I will sync a vote with another player. Illwei, first voted. I don't want to die...

CS watched the cell doors slide open slowly, revealing the long corridor beyond. He stared at the doors for a moment, uncomprehending. He heard voices coming from beyond. The other inmates, he realized. His... competitors. Go, whispered the Voice, smooth as blood. Meet the ones who would take your life. Not now, he thought. I must finish writing this chapter, remember? It can wait, said the Voice. CS shivered. The Voice could barely tolerate delays of any sort in his writing. What could possibly have changed its tune so thoroughly? The slayings will soon begin, said the Voice, a hunger evident within it. You will meet your enemies, befriend them, steal their secrets.... and then murder them. The stories will no longer be stories, but TRUTH. The word brought with it a torrent of spikes pouring through ears and eyes and mouth, pushing up his throat so fast he could not even scream. Go, said the Voice in a normal volume, and CS obeyed.

X's avatar won the competition by being too utterly apathetic to even attend.

The Fog is dark and cold and empty... Oh. Hello. I didn't see you there. Apologies for my soliloquizing. Not many conversational partners here on the Edge. Certainly. But few drifting souls have any words to spare for one such as I. Lonely? I suppose you could call it that. But I do not mind it so much as you might think. An interesting question. I could ask the same of you. Why are you here? Are you one outcast by the Center? Are you an explorer, curious about what lies within the Fog? Are you a lost soul, seeking to find relief beyond the Reach? None of these, you say. Fascinating. It would seem you have not yet decided. Well, perhaps I can offer assistance. My purpose? That is my purpose. I stand here to tell of the Edge, and the Fog beyond, to any willing to listen. You are willing? Then sit down, and let me tell you a tale...

Psyder opened his eyes. "You would have to prove your true devotion to our cause. Above all others."

"Why not?"

@Karamathi'ani'telliteki'un I'm afraid I don't get it

Writing is allowed. Any form of narrative is allowed.

X's avatar took the sword. It froze solid.

X's avatar drifted in a sea of shadow.

The normal time limit is six days... the seventh day is for voting. I've just been letting things go over, partially to let people get submissions in, partially because of personal life. Speaking of which, I'm getting behind on my inspirations...

Aylin blinked. "You are flag-bearer... and deserter?"

"The one with the team deck and colors."