Fiction Rumble II - Week 26 (Current Champion: Zaphkael)

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Post Post #137 (isolation #0) » Thu Aug 29, 2019 9:31 am

Post by kuribo »

/in


Time to reclaim the throne I built
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Post Post #141 (isolation #1) » Thu Aug 29, 2019 12:12 pm

Post by kuribo »

In post 134, Creature wrote:I personally dislike setting a word limit. I'd like make it open.

The reason for a word limit is because writers, by our very nature, are egotistical little beasts. We hesitate to "murder our darlings," as someone once called editing. If a sentence does not serve a purpose, it should be cut, and without remorse. Longer does not mean better, one can often cut a large number of pointless sentences from first draft and hold the reader's attention.

A writer is in a constant battle for the attention of his or her reader, especially in this day and age. And so, we must ask ourselves, "does this sentence serve a purpose?" Does it provide information, shed some new light; does it set the table or perhaps provide tone? If you cannot answer yes, the sentence is merely distracting the reader from the story.

That's my personal philosophy, at least. I understand it's a very old school way of writing.
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Post Post #152 (isolation #2) » Wed Sep 11, 2019 12:12 pm

Post by kuribo »

Still in
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Post Post #157 (isolation #3) » Thu Sep 12, 2019 6:47 am

Post by kuribo »

Might have to hall of shame me, I'm only halfway through my story and it's not fair to half-ass it.
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Post Post #159 (isolation #4) » Thu Sep 12, 2019 9:07 am

Post by kuribo »

Good point, the whole 70 hour workweek isn't conducive to fiction rumble lol
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Post Post #163 (isolation #5) » Mon Sep 16, 2019 9:59 am

Post by kuribo »

Contacts, 1436 Words


Spoiler:
“Hi, I’m Rob.”

Madison looked up from her phone and placed it on the bar in front of her. The man to her right was extending his hand with a bright smile on his face.

“Madison,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Madison almost said no, mostly out of habit. She glanced at her phone, then back at Rob. Not bad looking, she thought to herself. Handsome, actually. He had dark hair, a nice tan, and a smile that cut through the low light of her surroundings.

“Sure,” said Madison. “Long Island Iced Tea.”

Rob motioned to the bartender. “So, Madison, are you from around here?”

*BZZZZZ BZZZZ*


Madison’s phone buzzed on the table in front of her before she answered. She was about to pick it up, and then stopped herself. She turned slightly and smiled.

“Actually, yeah,” said Madison, “I grew up over in Trenton, but now I work here. What about you?”

“I’ve only been living in the city for a few months,” said Rob. “I like it, but I miss the fresh air.”

“The air definitely leaves a lot to be desired,” Madison said with a chuckle. “I like to get out of the city sometimes, though, it helps me stay centered, you know?”

*BZZZZ BZZZZ*


Madison glanced at her phone, still facedown on the bar. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and her heart sank. She should answer these texts, but good-looking guys aren’t exactly a dime a dozen in this city. She turned her attention back toward Rob.

“My folks own a ranch about thirty miles up the way,” said Rob. “I still go out there about once a week just to take in the nature. Sometimes I even camp out there.”

“So you’re more of an outdoorsman?”

Rob laughed. “Yeah, I know, country boy moves to the big city. It’s cliché, but it’s how things have turned out.”

Madison sipped her drink and smiled, turning toward him slightly. “I don’t know,” she said. “Clichés can be interesting too.” Madison’s drinks were starting to give her a warm buzz and every time Rob smiled, she found her heart pounding against her chest. She knew she was blushing, and for just a moment she wondered what it would be like to spend a night in the arms of this country-boy-turned-city-man.

“Well good,” said Rob. “I’d hate to think I was boring you.”

“You’re not even close to boring me.”

*BZZZZ BZZZZ*


“Do you need to get that?” asked Rob. He nodded toward her phone.

“Nope,” said Madison, with a smile. For a split second, Madison realized she had leaned in slightly closer and now her heart threatened to slam its way out of her chest and hurl itself at Rob’s feet.

“Might be your boyfriend calling.”

“I don’t have one.”

“A pretty woman like you? I don’t know, I’d have thought you were taken.” Rob put his hand on hers and with that simple touch, electricity surged from her heart to her left arm, leaving a tingle where their skin met.

“It’s… a long story, and it’s not worth talking about,” said Madison. “So not to change the subject, but do you work out?” Madison said with a grin.
That’s right,
she thought,
I’m checking you out.


Rob’s eyes glinted. “I do, actually. Not as much as I used to before I moved here, but I like to stay in shape.”

“I can see that.”

Rob put his head down and chuckled. “I like going rock climbing once or twice a year,” he said, “It really helps. Have you ever been?”

“Me? Oh, no, I’ve never done anything like that.”

“You should try it, it’s a really great way to get close to the earth’s natural beauty.”

“Maybe I will.”

Madison bit her lip. She was peripherally aware that the ice was rapidly melting in her Long Island Iced Tea, but she really didn’t care. The Long Island Iced Tea was the last thing from her mind. The more pressing matter was that she was sitting in front of this attractive, interesting stranger. She almost felt as if a spell had been cast over her.

*BZZZZ BZZZZ*


Oh for God’s sake,
Madison thought to herself. She wanted nothing more than to throw her phone into the garbage can, maybe give it to some homeless person as an early Christmas present. She wanted the phone and everything it represented right now to disappear, leaving just her and this seemingly perfect guy. Before Madison realized she had done it, she picked up her phone and read the texts.

Dan

I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am. Not a day goes by where I don’t miss you. You have every right to be angry over what I did. I can’t excuse any of it.


I’ve ruined the only thing that ever made sense to me. All I could ever ask is that you find it in your heart to forgive me, to be with me, to try and love me again.


I wish I had never met her, and I wish I had never done the things I did. I can’t take them back, Maddy, but I can become a better person.


Madison rolled her eyes, then looked up at Rob. She tried to recollect her train of thought. “So, Rob, what do you do here in the city besides chatting up women in bars?”

“I’m actually working on a business degree,” said Rob. I mostly moved to the city because the commute in and out of town is brutal.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s not exactly following my dream, I suppose, but it’s a job. What do you do?”

“I’m a veterinarian,” Madison said, meeting his steel blue eyes once more.

“That sounds rewarding, do you like it?”

“I do,” said Madison. “What’s your dream job?”

“That’s a tough one,” said Rob. “Maybe a ranger for the Parks service.”

“That’s a long way from contracts and investments.”

*BZZZZ BZZZZ*


Dan

There is nothing I wish more than that I had never hurt you. I can make this right, I can be everything you deserve to have and so much more. Just, please, at least answer me.


“Maybe one day,” said Rob. “It’s a long story, as you say.”

“I’m sure,” said Madison. Now she was warm all over. She wasn’t quite positive if it was the booze, or if this handsome stranger just had complete hold over her, but she was sure that if she’d been a cartoon character, she’d have little hearts coming out of her head. She leaned in closer, steadying herself with the bar, getting a closer look at Rob’s eyes. Try as she might she was having a hard time not getting lost in them. Rob, for his part, was leaning as well. His cologne was woodsy, of course, with a hint of peppermint. Her heart fluttered again.

“I know we just met,” said Madison, “But I really want to know what kind of kisser you are.”

Rob blushed a little, then smiled. He leaned in, brushing his lips ever so slightly against hers. Just like that, her entire being was on fire. She floated up from her body, and found herself as a spirit looking down on the scene below. She wanted more, of course, and for a moment she found herself wanting to go back to his place, her place, anywhere he would have her.

*BZZZZ BZZZZ


For just a moment, the spell broke, and she remembered the phone in her hand as she ended the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t usually… you know, do that kind of thing.”

“I’d ask you if you wanted to go back to my place,” said Rob, “but I’m not that kinda guy.”

“Probably for the better,” said Madison, her voice shaking. “I’d probably accept.”

Rob smiled. “Maybe I should give you my number, we could go out on a proper date?”

“I’d like that a lot, Rob.”

Madison took her phone in her hand and looked down. She added Rob as a contact, took his number, and then before she knew what she was doing, she had opened Dan’s texts.

Dan

You are my entire world, my soul, and without you I am lost.


Madison hesitated for a second, just long enough to tear up a bit. She pushed aside the memories of the good times, and even the memories of the bad times. This was a step she was going to have to take sooner or later. She texted Dan.

Madison

I’m sorry. I can’t.
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Post Post #170 (isolation #6) » Wed Sep 18, 2019 2:06 pm

Post by kuribo »

/in

Last week I learned you can't do a decent romance arc in a flash fiction format
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Post Post #176 (isolation #7) » Tue Oct 01, 2019 9:01 pm

Post by kuribo »

Data Mayhem, 1423 Words


Spoiler:
“Code: BYPLAY, Priority Alpha, BRI 1100. INV/????”

The moment this message had arrived in my encrypted channel, I knew something seriously unprecedented was happening. An urgent request for a face-to-face meeting was almost unheard of among members of Mayhem 5, the protocol reserved only for the most dire of circumstances. Invictus--- the ranking member of Mayhem 5--- would be meeting me under the Fourth Avenue overpass at 1:00PM with another member whose identity I would not know.

I walked alone. The overpass wasn’t in a terrible neighborhood, at least not as far as Neo Holbrook is concerned. The slums had been pushed further to the outskirts of the city over the past few decades and the private police force had done a more than efficient job in removing the “undesirables.” Everything shiny, new, clean. Corporate. Everything Mayhem 5 stood against. The Fourth Avenue overpass was one of several places that didn’t have 24-hour surveillance.

When I arrived at the meeting site, a man in his early-to-mid twenties was slowly using a scanner to sweep the area under the bridge for listening devices. He motioned to me not to speak, and scanned across my person several times. This was Invictus. A second man in a hoodie and sunglasses was nervously smoking a cigarette. He was younger than Invictus, probably a teenager. I waited until Invictus gave me the all-clear to speak. When he was satisfied that I wasn’t compromised, he addressed me by my handle.

“Alright, Whisper, this is Chillain,” Invictus said, indicating the shaky smoker. “Chillain is in some deep shit right now. Three hours ago, we got an early warning that Warrant Enforcement Services had papers on Chillain.”

“Shit,” I said, “What’s the charge?”

“Four counts of illegal trespass into GenTech systems, two hundred thirty-five counts of Grand Data Theft,” said Invictus.

“Jesus, dude,” I said, “What did you steal?”

“I didn’t steal anything,” said Chillain. “I don’t know how my name even got into any of this.”

“Someone
allegedly
hacked into the GenTech mainframe two days ago,” said Invictus. They took the genetic data of over two-hundred GenTech customers, along with proprietary government beta software. This stuff is worth millions to the right buyers.”

Invictus sighed, then looked at Chillain. I looked too. Chillain was obviously afraid, and who could blame him? Charges like that, the government isn’t going to negotiate in sentencing. This is life imprisonment territory.

“I don’t think it was him,” said Invictus. “I mean, I’ve known Chillain since grade school. He’s got the hacktivist spirit. He’s been down in the trenches with us since day one, and I know if he’d had access to that system, he’d have destroyed the data instead of stealing it.”

Chillain spoke up. “Material gain isn’t my thing, man. I want to bring down the system, not profit off it’s back.”

I looked at Chillain, searching what I could see of his face. I instantly knew I believed him, and what’s more, Invictus was vouching for him. Invictus was usually an excellent judge of character.

“So you think---” I started.

“He was framed,” said Invictus.

“Who? How?”

“Probably those corporate sons-of-bitches at the Digital Cowboys,” said Chillain. “DC had a bounty on me after I took down their cyberwall at the Department of Redistribution.” He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet while he lit another cigarette.

I gagged slightly at the mention of the Digital Cowboys. Big business’ mercenaries, these hired keyboard warriors were the opposite of everything Mayhem 5 took pride in. I knew Invictus had a particular distaste for the group, as most of us did.

“Somehow they managed to attach Chillain’s digital signature to the attack on GenTech,” said Invictus. “If the hack even happened at all. I’ve heard rumors of the data turning up on secure auctions, but nothing concrete.”

“It’s bullshit,” said Chillain, pacing nervously a bit. “If I had millions of dollars coming to me, I wouldn’t be chain-smoking under an overpass.”

“So if Warrant Enforcement is after him, what am I doing here?” I asked.

“Well,” said Invictus, “W.E.S. doesn’t seem to have his physical name yet. The warrant is under his handle, which tells me that the feds don’t know who he is. Or where he is.”

“Right, but they must be close if they’re issuing a warrant,” I said.

“Exactly. They wouldn’t have put out a warrant if they didn’t think they could tie him to a physical name and address within forty-eight hours or so.”

“So we’re hiding him.”

“That’s where you come in, Whisper,” said Invictus. “We can’t let the government or the DC find him. In all likelihood, DC carried out the hack themselves. If a high-ranking member of Mayhem 5 gets arrested on charges like this? Shit, it’s the end of the line. We can’t carry out rebellious operations with our guys getting arrested for selling consumer data. He goes to prison, Mayhem 5 is done for, and all the good work we’ve done. Public opinion, media favor, all of it just vanishes in one warrant sweep.”

I exhaled deeply. I had considered, of course, that hiding a fugitive member was the reason I had been asked to this meeting. I’d done it twice before--- and successfully at that--- seeing as the government hadn’t found either of them to this day. But nothing on the level of a warrant for so serious a crime.

“I think it can be done,” I said, hesitating a bit. “We’ll have to act fast. There are safehouses, right here in the city. I can place you in one under an assumed name until we can get you out of town. I’ll use my back-doors at the Department of Identification to get you paperwork. By the time they serve that warrant, you’ll be a thousand miles away.”

Chillain just nodded. Given the choice between death and starting a new life, most people wouldn’t hesitate to take the latter. That doesn’t mean it’s an easy thing to do.

Invictus smiled wide. “That’s what I’m talking about. See, Chillain, this girl here, she’s got the power.”

I smiled back. “It’s what I do.”

I turned back toward Chillain. “Alright, you’re going to head to a safe-house on the corner of Cross Street and Byre. I’m going to need your physical name. Once I get home, I’ll go into the Department of Identification and change your status to deceased. I’ll contact you with a new name and within forty-eight hours, you’ll have all the paperwork you need to stay out of prison.”

“Thank you so much,” said Chillain. “God, I owe you my life.”

“Defending the innocent is what we do,” I said.

* * *

Later that night, I sat at my computer, tying up some loose ends. On the television to my left, a news bulletin caught my attention.

“Good evening everyone, today is July 1, 2125. Our top story tonight: Police have informed us that an arrest has just been made in the recent GenTech security breach. Dozens of consumers had their genetic data compromised, and multiple cutting-edge government projects were stolen as well. Police have identified the suspect in custody as Adam Layton, a nineteen-year-old hacker who called himself ‘Chillain.’ Police allege Mr. Layton is a known member of the hacker group Mayhem 5, who...”

My attention turned back to my computer. An encrypted message awaited me.

“DC Charade- Thank you for your help in recent matters. The Cowboys look forward to working with you in the future. Welcome to the rodeo, Whisper.”

I smiled, but it was nothing compared to the smile on my face when I received the next series of messages.

“Blackweb Market- Your auction of GT40663-032.dat was successful. The Winning Bid of $863,021.44 has been transferred to your account ending in X206 at SWISS SAVINGS AND TRUST.”

“Blackweb Market- Your auction of GT3353-221.dat was successful. The Winning Bid of $243,217.22 has been transferred to your account ending in X667 at FIN NATIONAL.”

“Blackweb Market- Your auction of GT3211-20.dat was successful. The Winning Bid of $114,566.20 has been transferred to your account ending in X521 at CA FIRST.”

I sat back in my chair, the messages continuing to come in, one after another--- Two hundred thirty-five, to be exact. Each auction closing in its turn, each for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Although Invictus was probably infuriated that his dream of a hacktivist revolution had died today, I had to admit he was right about one thing. I was the one with the power.
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Post Post #178 (isolation #8) » Fri Oct 04, 2019 4:00 am

Post by kuribo »

Generally I don't agree with explaining one's own story after the fact. I believe the story should stand on its own feet, and any failure to understand should be seen as a failure on the part of the writer. So I guess I can call this more of a self-critique. When I read the prompt, I decided early on to make the story from the perspective of the unreliable narrator. I did drop very subtle hints, but I realized that maybe they had been too subtle. For example, Whisper mentions Invictus "usually" being a good judge of character. (He hasn't misjudged Chillain, but Whisper herself) She mentions the Cowboys and how "most of us" hate them.

Her motivation isn't necessarily made clear as you said, a failing on my part to work with the unreliable narrator. I missed a perfect opportunity to explain Whisper's motives because the story was written through her inner monologue. A little very basic character establishment would have taken this a long way, and I probably could have done it more reliably if I'd added a single paragraph.

All in all, a very basic element of a plot twist is that the reader shouldn't feel that the twist came out of nowhere. A portion of your readers should figure out the twist part way through, or at least suspect it's coming. I could have done a bit more basic housekeeping storywise that would have improved the story.

I like Fiction Rumble, by the way, it provides me an excellent opportunity to experiment with themes and techniques I wouldn't necessarily explore otherwise.
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Post Post #181 (isolation #9) » Fri Oct 04, 2019 4:12 am

Post by kuribo »

In post 179, Creature wrote:I'm mostly proud of fitting a big plot within 1500 words and I don't think I struggled a lot with word cuts although I could use a few more words. Prompt was kinda hard and I wanted to write something that wouldn't bore the readers.

I liked your setting and the plot a lot, but I felt you had to rush through the story beats in order to get where you wanted within the count. It would have benefitted from a slow-burn marinade.

If this story, or this setting, were expanded into a 7000 word short story or even a 15000 word novella, I'd read it.
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Post Post #186 (isolation #10) » Fri Oct 04, 2019 4:19 am

Post by kuribo »

In post 180, Something_Smart wrote:Yeah, Fiction Rumble is awesome! :]

And I'm definitely in agreement that a story should stand on its own. I didn't really interpret Whisper as an unreliable narrator, even at the end, because she knew exactly what was going on. I think the "usually" and "most" linguistic cues were far too subtle because that can easily just be the style of the narrator (or the author) to avoid absolute statements.

Just out of curiosity, did you have a deeper motive for her in mind, or was it just greed?

Pedit: @kuribo
Well the unreliable narrator means more that the POV character is omitting knowledge from, or even lying outright to, the reader. Think Gone Girl or Odd Thomas as opposed to Fight Club.

Greed in terms of her stealing the money. I could have established that she was poor and tired of struggling financially without harming the story itself. As for betraying her friends, anti-corporate hacktivsm doesn't lend itself to a life of wealth. Her friends would have distrusted her knowing she'd used her skills for personal gain, as evidenced by Chillain's comment about why he wouldn't have done it. She needed a fall guy to avoid the police investigation and she knew that her group would come to her to hide one of their own. She had no intention of hiding him, obviously. This scandal would, in her mind, tarnish Mayhem forever and end its hope of doing havktivist work. The remaining members, ones whose real identities she doesn't know, would be looking for her, even with a new identity, and so she cast her lot with their rivals for her own protection. After all, they're pro-corporate mercenaries and she's exceedingly wealthy.
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Post Post #198 (isolation #11) » Sat Oct 05, 2019 6:16 am

Post by kuribo »

In post 194, vizIIsto wrote:In the rules it says you shouldn't critique anyone else's story during the competition period. Is that for public critique only or also for private critique? As in, can I tell someone else what I thought of their story through PM's or not?
It's because you can unwittingly influence the outcome of the judging period by critiquing stories before the deadline
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Post Post #205 (isolation #12) » Sun Oct 06, 2019 7:07 am

Post by kuribo »

I've considered bringing the idea of dueling to this thread for those periods where we're all just waiting for deadline.

I have an idea how it should go, basically a watered down version of SA's Thunderdome (which Fiction Rumble was based on) without the hostility. Not because I'm opposed to hostility, but because it doesn't really fly on MS.
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Post Post #236 (isolation #13) » Wed May 06, 2020 10:08 am

Post by kuribo »

Ooooooo im down
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Fire and Brimstone
Fire and Brimstone
Posts: 15463
Joined: August 21, 2007
Pronoun: he/him
Location: the beach, probably
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Post Post #238 (isolation #14) » Wed May 06, 2020 12:43 pm

Post by kuribo »

Just steal one from the Simple Prompts subreddit

Not WritingPrompts, I'm not doing 1000 words about what if my crush could read my thoughts and we all had a number floating over our heads indicating our sexual virility and also werewolves are attacking
Join me on my quest to play every NES game! Some of them are awful.

Kuribo's read is foolproof: one night he was high on NyQuil, and he's ancestors reveiled Aureal's alignment to him. - Dessew
User avatar
kuribo
kuribo
he/him
Fire and Brimstone
User avatar
User avatar
kuribo
he/him
Fire and Brimstone
Fire and Brimstone
Posts: 15463
Joined: August 21, 2007
Pronoun: he/him
Location: the beach, probably
Contact:

Post Post #245 (isolation #15) » Sun May 17, 2020 8:38 am

Post by kuribo »

In post 244, Creature wrote:I think they come last minute

Gotta take some time to polish that turd if I'm gonna slap my name next to it.
Join me on my quest to play every NES game! Some of them are awful.

Kuribo's read is foolproof: one night he was high on NyQuil, and he's ancestors reveiled Aureal's alignment to him. - Dessew
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