ladyhwin

Hehe! I'm back again with part seven! All rules obeyed. : D


Oblivion jerked his head around as the magician crashed through the brush, muttering under his breath. The big dragon growled menacingly, displaying his dislike for the disingenuous trickster.
The magician arched one eyebrow at his captive before turning his attention to the bunch of blackened orchids in his hand.
Oblivion felt a sudden pang of compassion for the fairies of the burnt flowers.
The magician grumbled something about the failure of his tests and Oblivion realized that his captor had been attempting to duplicate the orchid magic, which explained the charred blooms.
The frowning man came up to the cage and sneered. “And how the marvelous mighty dragon faring?”
Oblivion snarled. No amount of flattery could convince him to be kind to someone who had confined him so soon after his freedom.
The magician suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. “Magic...” he murmured to himself. “You haven’t had any visitors while I was away, have you?”
Oblivion’s only answer was another glare and a puff of smoke.
“That orchid fairy has been back, hasn’t she.” He grumbled dryly. “I might have known. But there’s something else. It smells dragonish...”
“Let me guess!”
The magician whirled around and saw the imp, seated comfortably on the ground and smiling innocently.
“You sense the magic of a dragon. A faerie dragon to be more specific. Or, if you really wish to get into the tactile details, a blue faerie dragon called Sriera who has recently informed her mistress of this location.”
“The Queen!” The magician growled as his medallion flashed and his already burnt flowers disappeared in a cloud of smoke. He coughed and waved his hands to clear the air.
Oblivion chuckled and a tongue of flame shot from his mouth, not harming his prison, but touching the blue robe of his captor and setting it aflame.
This seemed too much for the magician to bear; he leaped about in fright for a few moments until he seemed to remember, snapped his fingers three times rhythmically and dissolved the flames. Unfortunately the spell he had chosen dissolved fire into water so his robes were now wet.
Hiding his own chuckles, the imp pulled a cloak from a hole in a tree. “Take this dear sir. And go find your enemy. They’re nearby.”

giraffe

Thanks, morshy. I was mostly trying to flush a motive. I got it with your explanation. That may have been made clearer with another 100 words, but you were already over the limit. So What? I really liked the story. It left me questioning and that's what good writing is about.

On the other hand, I felt like 'Family Ties' was very clear and needs no other explanation. We've all been there. Please don't take my remarks as any sort of negative feedback.

five

Title: Muddy Shoes
(380 words)

“Waiting for Sam?” Oscar asked.

“Waiting for Sam?” Melanie asked.

Waiting was never an easy thing to bear. Raindrops hit glass and slid down in long drips. Rhythmic. Ping. Ping. Hypnotic. Her heart, too. Thump. Ping. The wait was long today. The arch of her left foot was asleep. Always the left, never the right. She shifted her weight, heel, toe, heel, toe, craving the tactile feel of her skin pressing rough carpet. She forgot where she left her shoes.

Oscar adjusted the security monitors behind the desk. “It’s be a wet night,” he said. The gold medallion on his lapel was faded. Melanie liked him: he was polite. She rocked from one foot to the other, trying to wake her muscles.

The other doorman rolled his eyes and smirked. “Crazy,” he said to Oscar.

“Where’s your compassion?” Oscar asked.

“See you, Oscar.”

“Sure, Felix. Bye.”

“Evening,” Melanie said. She went back to waiting. Ping. Ping. Sam was always late.

A tall man ducked inside, shaking out his umbrella. Water soaked into the plain beige carpet.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he said. “We’ll have a good visit.” Disingenuous, she knew; his knit brow and flat tone belied the words. “You look lovely.”

Flattery used to warm her up. Here, it felt as hollow as it was. She sucked in a breathe and pulled her cloak against her body. She should try, for Sam.

She looked down. His shoes were muddy.

“I remember! Our first date. You showed up, your shoes covered in mud, and gave me a white orchid. The music played on Daddy’s radio. It started thundering and lightning. Daddy said we couldn’t go out until it cleared. We sipped lemonade on the screen porch. I hoped you would kiss me. Daddy was there. I knew you wouldn’t dare. I hoped. I spilled on my new dress. I wanted to cry. You said I looked pretty in anything I wore. I called you a terrible flatterer. Daddy went in, leaving just the two of us on the porch.”

It was an such an old memory, unconnected to today.

“You’re not wearing shoes again,” he said.

Melanie shook. “What?”

He pointed. “Your feet, Ma, you’re not wearing shoes or slippers.”

“They hurt.”

“You have to sign in, Mr. Jenson,” Oscar said.

five

That was fun to read, Ladyhwin

five

Giraffe, you did a pretty good job just using dialogue. Hard to make that work.

five

Q, delightful study in contrast.

giraffe

Word count is 380. I left out bear, orchid and flattery.

OUTLOOK

Under the cloak of compassion, the Cardinal gave forgivness. He forgave Coprnicus for the dreadly sin of saying the Earth wasn't flat. He forgave Galileo for saying that the Sun doesn't revolve around the Earth. Condemned for heresy, they were both released from Hell with the Pope's permission,

A week earlier he had forgiven The Beatles for being satanic. John had made the comment "We are more popular than Jesus." so he was condemned to an eternity of fire and brimstone. The Cardinal smiles every time he releases someone from Hell and many think him disingenius. But he knows what he's doing. Scaring the shit out of people.

It's a very useful way to control the masses. Strike fear into their hearts and make them obey. The medallion he wears and the arch he stands under makes him better in so many ways. You give them the tactile rhythms of the ancient modes and they really believe you are closer to God than they are.

The Cardinal goes to bed thinking that maybe he can prove his worth tomorrow by condemning another soul to eternal damnation. Darwin? No, he was already cursed. How about Al Gore? He hasn;t been condemned yet. Or Harry Potter? He'll think of somebody.

Wait a minute! Ringo Starr doesn't want to accept our forgiveness. That proves that we were right in the first place. He has worked in childrens' programming for years. Who is he to throw it back at us. Only some of us are child molestors.

Hey, little boy, I want to teach you about Jesus. Come sit on my knee.

Mommy told me not to do that,

But your mommy isn't as close to God as I am.

OK but only for a few minutes.

We don't need clothes on. Adam and Eve were born naked. We have to honor them.

Hell, we forgave the Beatles. I deserve a treat for that.

That hurts.

Yes, but Jesus had pain too. Nailed to a cross is a lot more pain than you are going through.

Do I have to do this?

Only if you don't want to be condemned to eternal Hell.

OW. Are my tears enough to make me religious?

morshy

380 all words used, not including the title.

P.A.R.T Why? Cos I gotta!

I woke up with the feeling that my tongue was plastered to the roof of my mouth. At some point, something crawled in there (I think it might have been a bear) and died. I opened a bleary eye and immediately closed it again, wishing I hadn’t bothered the first time around. Too late, my brain kicked into action (and I do mean kick). I had a rhythmic drum ‘n’ bass soundtrack ripping through my neural cortex, and starbursts of violently green light exploding behind my eyelids.

I rolled over and fell out of bed. It’s an interesting perspective to have, nose high to the carpet. Everything looks…..weird. Most of my senses were cloaked in a fug of confusion, and no amount of flattery or tactile compassion would ease the pain or the bewilderment. I didn’t recognise ANYTHING. I wasn’t being disingenuous. Where the hell was I? The carpet was blue, and that should have been the real give away. There are bare floorboards in out bedroom.

I stumbled to my feet and started to root around, looking for my clothes. Something was pulling at my neck. Ye Gods, I was wearing a medallion. What on earth had possessed me…and then fragments of the evening began to filter through. Office party. 70s theme. Fight with the missus. And Julie, the office typist. Dear sweet Jesus I’m a dead man. I pulled my trousers on, both feet into the one leg, and promptly fell over. Hopping round the room, scrambling hideous clothes from a time fashion forgot I crashed out onto the landing, to the top of the stairs. On a table in front of me, under the arch in the hallway, was the Peace Orchid I’d bought for my wife for our 5th Anniversary a fortnight ago. Rules were made to be broken, except those of gravity. I took a step backwards in confusion, my foot landed on solid nothing and I pin-wheeled around. Things, at that point, seemed to slow down. We have a spare bedroom. It has a blue carpet. And that was when the dawning light of realisation hit me. Unfortunately, so did the 16 steps down to the ground floor as I slid face first down the stairs. Time sped up, and the lights went out.

marius

ladyhwin - Part VII. (smiling with joy and fun of this series) Love the blackened orchids, the dragon's compassion for the orchid fairies, the imp, the somewhat-batty magician with his cloak on fire. Still enjoying this all.

five - Muddy Shoes. Oh, my ... what I thought when I got to the end was, "Perfection." Great pace, atmosphere, character exploration ... the memory of that kiss she wanted, her confusion ... and the "doormen!." Hope you keep contributing. Am much enjoying your style and artistry. : )

morshy - P.A.R.T. Not sure if you meant this to be funny, but I did laugh. Would think this story should be enough to convince people that over-indulging is not fun, at all, but it probably isn't. ; ) Enjoyed it.

ladyhwin

Why thank you marius! We're hoping to get this done before tomorrow if at all possible. : D

Nylecoj

380 words yet again, here is the next part of the story!




Celynor strung her bow, not that it would do any good against the magician should they meet, but there were countless fiends he could have hired or twisted into his service. Taking four arrows from her quiver, she dipped each into a separate pouch at her belt. Red, blue, yellow and silver they came out sparkling with fairy dust, pulsing an invisible but tactile wave of magic rhythmically about them. Fury arched her neck and snorted, pausing for just a second before she pressed on.

“We are close” Katharine whispered. Celynor nodded as they rode forward, silent, almost unseen, so carefully did Fury bear them that the birds did not even flutter as they passed. A flash of light on a medallion and a mutter drew their attention. On their left was a grumbling magician stalking through the woods, undoubtably thinking he was being nearly silent. Celynor smiled, stifling her laughter as the magician kicked a clump of orchids he tripped over. They waited until he disappeared, stumbling into the trees, before continuing.
They did not have to go far. A great wall of closely intertwined trees blocked their way, and there, trapped in the mass of branches was the dragon.

“Greetings mighty one!” Katharine said raising one hand in peace.
“Greetings elf Queen.” Neither of them flattering the other, but speaking the truth.
“Greetings.” Added Celynor filled with compassion for the dragon, all his former majesty cloaked by his prison.
“Oh good! You made it!” Said the imp, hopping down from a tree branch, “I thought you would slip by that magician.”
“You disingenuous little wretch!” growled Oblivion, “I ought to roast you.”
“Patience my friend.” The queen intervened.
“I can see I am not welcome.” Pouted the imp, “But remember, the medallion is the key.” He vanished grinning.
“Now, how do we get you out?” Katharine asked sliding to the ground to examine the living cage.

“Well, well, well!” came a sneer. Wheeling around, Celynor faced the magician who stood fingering his medallion and glaring at them from a rock that jutted over the forest floor.
“I can’t have you stealing my prize, now can I? Let’s see how you deal with this!” He raised his hands and the dirt before him bellowed, falling away, revealing a troll.

five

Title: Straggler

380 words.

Quiet is tactile, especially following an uproar.

Hours after the gun fired, the race ended exactly where it began. The crowds were gone. In the midday sun, no one would earn a medallion; those went to the first finishers.

“I see her.” Jack said.

“Finally.” John overturned the table, folded down the legs and wiped his brow.

“I’m in no hurry.” Jack grabbed a water bottle from the nearly empty box and a flower from the bag. Everyone who made it up and down the mountain received an orchid. The gray haired straggler crossed the finish line sweaty and relieved. “6 hours 10 minutes 32 seconds,” he said, glancing at his stopwatch. The runner nodded, dropping the flower and stumbling in a circle. She gulped the water.

“I have to go, Jack. Help me load?”

Jack grunted. They carted the collapsed table to the parking lot. “Her sister’s staying three days.”

“Only three? Your nephew and his girl still with you?”

“All summer. Teen-agers with no where to go.”

“A lot of house guests.”

“Never too many; ask my wife. Maybe she’ll talk to you.”

“You have my compassion.”

Back on the grass. Jack handed John the flower bag. “Take these?” The straggler stretched on the grass, her breathing recovered, rhythmic.

“Maybe you want to give the rest to your wife.”

“She doesn’t like public displays of affection.”

John belly-laughed. “Very funny, Jack.” The straggler arched her back and groaned.

“She’s still mad?” John asked.

“She was mortified when we heard the sirens. Couldn’t get her clothes on fast enough.”

“She was the one that screamed like a bear jumped her and woke the neighborhood.”

John belly-laughed again. “Some bear ... neighbor’s Rottweiler cloaked by bushes. He has a disingenuous growl. Tame as a kitten. I guess we disturbed him.”

“Then the police officer shined a light and told us to stick to the bedroom. I’m not sure Jean will talk to me again.”

“Go see.” John took the bag. He walked toward the parking lot, and Jack walked toward the mature woman now sprawled on the ground like a kid.

“Hug?” he asked.

She opened her eyes, narrowed them to slits, and shut them. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She smiled.

John dumped the orchids into a waste can.

marius

Nylecoj ... a troll? Tee hee. [And I'll probaly pass the torch around noon, TD time, but if you two don't get your story finished by then ... you can always keep posting till the story is done.]

five ... Jack and the "mature" woman and the, erm "bear," and all of it ... (Big smile and some giggling too!)

ladyhwin

Aaannnnddd, now!! Part nine and I believe the second last part of the saga, if Nyle doesn't decide to make me finish it instead of her. ; )
Still following all the rules, marius, just for you.


Fury reared up in alarm. The troll shook its head obstinately. Celynor calmed her mount. Katharine placed one hand on her sword hilt. The magician smiled his crooked, disingenuous smile.
Oblivion roared and threw himself at the side of his prison, hoping to draw the creature’s attention away; knowing that if he could but lure the troll near enough, roasting him would be simple. But the dragon misjudged his aim and the flames blazed harmlessly over the troll’s head.
Sriera screeched, flying up in alarm and Celynor cried out in dismay as Katharine drew her sword and fell upon the monster.
Oblivion looked on helplessly, kneading the ground rhythmically with his claws as the Queen grappled, his gaze shifting from the Storyteller and her drawn bow to the fight. At last, just when he could bear it no longer, there came a swish and an arrow buried itself in the troll’s back. Instantly there was an orchid-colored flash and Katharine held in her arms a fluffy, bright pink bunny.
Oblivion chuckled, as the magician entertained them with an enraged dance.
Katharine suddenly burst out laughing at the absurdity of her position. She compassionately herded the bunny into the forest, still holding her blade, ready to fight again.
Celynor arched one eyebrow in amusement before turning her attention back to their enemy. The magician had seemingly gotten over his fit of anger and was approaching them, his medallion beginning to glow again.
Oblivion snarled and his words were harsh, like the near-tactile ones Sriera remembered. “Leave them be! None of us wish to harm anyone, but if you desire a fight, release me!”
The magician turned towards him, his eyes flattering, yet full of fire. “And what was my reason for imprisoning you here? Do you know that?”
Katharine caught her breath. The dragon heard and suddenly Sriera was in his mind again, telling him of the magical tangles and spells found around the elven palace in the recent few weeks and the magician’s wish to rule the forest. But before he could move, Fury charged forward and sank her teeth into the belt, ripping the medallion from the blue cloak. Immediately the blue glow vanished, all of the surrounding enchantments vanished and they stood staring in astonishment at the horse.

Nylecoj

Finis! Part ten, the final chapter, all words included, 380 words exact! Enjoy!



The magician blinked in surprise. That horse stole his prized medallion! His power source! Celynor burst into laughter.
"Good girl Fury!" She patted the horses neck as Fury nickered in amusement. The queen began to laugh as well, but remembering Oblivion she strode to the trees that held him. Kneeling beside one of the trunks, she pressed her hand against its bark, feeling the tactile rhythm of the forest flow through it. Katharine frowned in concentration, nearby some orchids quivered under the pressure, then the trees shifted back into their natural position, freeing the dragon.

The magician crouched, drawing a knife from somewhere in the folds of his cloak, creeping towards Fury's head.
A twig snapped. Oblivion turned on the magician and sprang, but he wasn't fast enough. Celynor's bow sang. There was a flash of blue light; a crack of thunder; and then standing before them arched in anger was a mouse with cyan fur sticking out every which way!
Impish laughter cut through the forest as the imp sprang from nowhere and clapped his cap over the magician.

“Not the most flattering form, but it fits!” He danced, then he bowed to Fury, “Noble steed listened to me. I thank you! I would ask what I could do for you, but since you have the medallion, and all you would want is it out of your mouth, I will leave you and your friends. Good day!” He bowed again, scooping up his hat, mouse and all as he did so, and then danced away grinning.

After the imp had gone, Oblivion bent his head, touching his nose to Katharine’s forehead.
“Thank you.” He rumbled, “Should ever you need assistance, I will come”
“What are we going to do with this medallion?” Celynor asked taking it from Fury, who gladly gave it to her.
“Give it to the squirrels!! They will take it somewhere safe until the magic seeps out of it and it is harmless.” The queen’s answered. And so they did. The squirrels bore the medallion away and hid it. The elves remounted Fury. Oblivion thanked them compassionately once more before lifting himself into the air, leaving them sitting upon their black steed.

The Storyteller, and the Elf Queen with Sriera perched on her hand. Friends forever.

marius

What a lovely and wonderful ThinkWrite! Thanks to everyone for making this such a pleasureable experience and for all the comments submissions and comments.

We had 25 submissions by 10 authors. Read on for a brief re-cap of the week.

by Five - Beverly
---“Absence is a pity to bear.”

by giraffe - Cheerleaders
---“The Bishops were screwy.... They always veered off to the left or right like they were drunk or something.”

by ladyhwin - “No Title” [But for ease of reference, shall call it the “Oblivion Saga”]
---“His tail tapped the ground impatiently, as though it had a mind of its own and would leap away to explore if he did not hurry up.”

by Dragon - The Guardian
---“She’d looked up at me with one brow arched as if to dare me to call her unfit to protect me.”

by Qsilv - Compassion
---“My uncle raised orchids. Hell he raised everything –including hell. But the orchids were a bit of a surprise to people who knew him only casually.”

by Doug - The reward of rhythmic reality
---“ ‘Flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Flaherty,’ she said with a wicked wink.”

by giraffe - Fog of the Evening Dog
---“You've gotta have some humor
to get through all these messes.
You do the pow wow at sold venues
And wear the native dresses.”

by Nylecoj - [Oblivion Saga] Part II
---“She was Celynor, the storyteller, keeper of all the histories of the world, finder of secrets, master of puzzles, waker of words.”

by ladyhwin - [Oblivion Saga] Part III
---“The sun shone down on the forest, lighting up the world, glittering in dew drops. And near the mountain, the bright rays flashed onto a mammoth form nestled against the rock, caught and sparkled on the green scales of the dragon.”

by Nylecoj - [Oblivion Saga] Part IV
---“Standing tall under the draping boughs of one of the trees, dressed in a flowing white gown, with a silver wreath upon her golden hair, one hand raised to touch a blue faerie dragon, was Katharine, Elven Queen.”

by Mum - War
---“The march, it had been strenuous
for the old men near their end.
Their grief, not disingenuous
as they remembered fallen friends.”

by marius - The Favor
---“She arrived in the early morning when September’s frost had painted the prairie grasses with red-tinted yellows and deep purple blues.”

by ladyhwin - [Oblivion Saga] Part V
---“With a harsh, smoky breath that sent both fairy and faerie tumbling back, Oblivion raised his head and fixed one bright eye on them both.”

by Nylecoj - [Oblivion Saga] Part VI
---“Tracking the dragon was not hard, the entire forest echoed with rumors of him, and though twice now they had gone the wrong way, squirrels do not give good directions; they had made good progress.”

by giraffe - I Guess
---"I've been awake for a couple hours waiting for you. Why did you do this to me?
"As you reap will you sow, Baby. Karma came by."

by morshy - Assassin
---“He had long ago learned that tactile flattery would often open the door, but bribery would invite you in with open arms.”

by morshy - Family Ties
---“A moment later Melissa followed him. And in their passing, the dirt in their father’s grave began to shift.”

by ladyhwin - [Oblivion Saga] Part VII
---“The magician arched one eyebrow at his captive before turning his attention to the bunch of blackened orchids in his hand.”

by five - Muddy Shoes
---“Raindrops hit glass and slid down in long drips. Rhythmic. Ping. Ping. Hypnotic. Her heart, too. Thump. Ping. The wait was long today.”

by giraffe - OUTLOOK
---“Under the cloak of compassion, the Cardinal gave forgivness. He forgave Coprnicus for the deadly sin of saying the Earth wasn't flat.”

by morshy - P.A.R.T Why? Cos I gotta! by morshy
---“I woke up with the feeling that my tongue was plastered to the roof of my mouth. At some point, something crawled in there (I think it might have been a bear) and died.”

by Nylecoj - [Oblivion Saga] Part VIII
---“Taking four arrows from her quiver, she dipped each into a separate pouch at her belt. Red, blue, yellow and silver they came out sparkling with fairy dust, pulsing an invisible but tactile wave of magic rhythmically about them.”

by five – Straggler
---“Quiet is tactile, especially following an uproar.”

by ladyhwin - [Oblivion Saga] Part IX
---“Instantly there was an orchid-colored flash and Katharine held in her arms a fluffy, bright pink bunny.”

By Nylecoj – [Oblivion Saga] Part X
---” There was a flash of blue light; a crack of thunder; and then standing before them arched in anger was a mouse with cyan fur sticking out every which way!”

marius

And, now a hearty good morning to all in ThinkWrite land! Was going to pass the torch around noon TD time, but turns out I will not be home then. So, passing the torch now and before I do, would like to say that there were many truly wonderful stories in this ThinkWrite and also many reasons to choosing each contributor ... but alas the torch can go to only one. I hope that each and every one of you will return to delight ThinkWrite authors and readers again and again.

Now for the passing of the torch. (Drum-roll please.)

......... and the torch is passed to ......... two. [Yes, a bit of trickery to say the torch can go to only one.]

Not sure how they’ll work out the sharing, but have the feeling the answer is “very well,” so, ladyhwin and Nylecoj, please take the torch.

Looking forward to your ThinkWrite, number XLVII if my Roman numerals are correct! ; )

ladyhwin

Hahaha!! What a nice surprise to wake up to!! Thank you, marius and I'm sure Nylecoj will be here soon to accept as well. ; )

Nylecoj

Hahaha! Thank you Marius! And yes we will work out the sharing!

ladyhwin

Yes, hopefully we'll be able to share. >:D Or else, Nyle!! ; )