/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

I will obviously join aswell.

From the image and its text, he knew what type of file this was. He also knew exactly why it was on his computer. Yet, it was mere speculation. He could not be sure before he had open it. He wanted to be lucky and be wrong.
As he double-clicked the file, he was assaulted by the sound and graphic-content from the video that just started. A green filly with some stallion where in the middle of a deplorable act for a filly her age.
He quickly closed the window but what he had seen could not be unseen. He could feel his pulse increase as he walked up to the nearby window and looked out. He was calmed only slightly by seeing the absence of guard chariots because he knew that whoever put this video on his computer would not wait long before they would strike. He could only speculate why they hadn't already.
He levitated his phone over and dialed the number he had memorized. After a few tones without any response, somepony picked up.
"This is Fair Star?"
He had been a bit nervous when so many signals had gone unnoticed so he exhaled heavy in relief and got a bit less tense before he proceeded to return to the serious situation at hoof.
"They are after me now. They have hacked my computer and uploaded several gigabytes of foal pornography!" he said still in a state of panic.
Fair Star, the mare on the phone, who had been lazily laying on the couch at home, had been a bit unprepared to the sudden urgency and because of this hadn't fully comprehended the situation.
"Wait, what?" she said groggily.
Anger entered his voice due to the pressure.
"I am being framed. Somepony has put a bunch of videos with stallions having sex with underaged fillies. I saw it this morning when I went through it... Oh, my! What if I hadn't? What if I had skipped today?"
He was almost hyperventilating and even through the phone Fair could hear slam his desk with a loud thud. But she had now fully grasped the situation.
"Calm down! Nothing will get better if you panic."
With a hoof massaging his forehead, he realized that she was right and tried to take control over his breathing. Exhaling and inhaling in slow, deep breaths in a controlled pace.
"There, that's better. Is there any gauds outside now?" Fair Star asked.
He shook his head a completely unnecessary action to do since she couldn't see him through the phone.
"No, I checked the front. From my office, it is the only side of this building I can check. Unless they come from the back."
The stallion sounded a bit horrified by the prospect at first. Fair was about to tell him that it seemed unlikely but didn't manage.
"No. They wouldn't need to hide their approach. They know I cannot run." He said in a much more stable voice which Fair noticed and nodded too.
"But I can, right? That's why you called me."
"Yes, exactly. If you take my computer and go, they won't have anything on me."
"I will bring my big duffel bag." The sound of rustling from of paper was heard coming from the mare's side. "It was the chariot that was the quickest, right?"
"No, take the train. The chariot's route has been redirected due to a newly found dragons' nest on the mountains."
The sounds of things being tossed and torn down exited the phone on the stallion's side. Clearly, Fair was packing her things.
"Okay, stay put and keep your phone on and close by all the time. I will be there in about three hours."
"Thanks, sis."
Fair chuckled mirthfully.
"You don't have to thank me, bro. We are in this together remember?"
"I guess you are right."
His voice was quieter now. He had something he wanted to say but the morbid implications of the words held him back. Fair interpreted the pause correctly and knew what was on his mind Her voice also became quiet but in addition also became harsh.
"Bro... I will see you there in three hours. I leave immediately."
"Right... See you."
As the call ended the stallion slumped back into his armchair.

Lol, i realised that this was proabably a more fitting theme for this thread https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onsWOo2gKh0 but eh, it was only a joke anyway

>>197973
Do you mind to explain the medal?

>>197973
Count me in, if i manage to finish this piece.
It's been a long while since i write, don't expect something superb.

>>198001
Family heirloom.
>>198020
Glad to have you.
Its one-hundred percent okay. I took a serious idea that I had been thinking about for a while now. I almost regret that now. The idea that came to me this morning might be more fun to write: Anon LARPing bloodborne in Equestria using Pinkie as a sword and Twilight as his gun.

With a mighty swing Pinkie's neck clashed with Guts' Dragon Carver. It sliced right through it cutting the Dragon Carver into two pieces.
Guts fell on his knees as tears ran down his cheeks.
He was now looking straight into the Eyes of Twilight Sparkle because he didn't dare to look away. The purple light from her horn was reflected on Guts' tear soaked cheeks.

>>197973
tl;dr?

>>198120
>tl;dr?
What does this questionmark mean? Are you unsure if the OP is too long?
Honestly, I think it is quite concise. I guess i can cut out everything that isn't the OP's base components.
The thread: Competition in writting. Post that you want to paricipate in this weekend. Post your entry in thread before the end of the set deadline. The deadline is a week from when the OP was posted.
Maybe, I am bit sassy now. But honestly if you think that this OP was too long. Maybe this thread isn't for you.

>>198136
Any limitations on what to write?

>>198147
No, I don't think that is necessary. At first i was think that it had to do with something related to ideas around /MLPOL/ like ponies and politics. Then I realised that anons on this board won't write something else anyway. Anyone, can write anything they want.

>>198150
I have an idea for some edgy shit that is not directly linked to pony or politics

>>198151
If it is too graphical and disgusting then I won't read it. However, so long as the mods don't have a problem with it I don't. So long as you write, I don't care.

>>197996
This is my progress so far. I can't say I am satisfied with what I have written. I will anyway edit everything later on. Feel free to comment on it.

She closed the metal door behind her and turned the key. A pulse of electricity sparkled around its edges and spread from it around her cloud home. It changed color from grey-blue to grey-dark clearly indicating that locked and loaded. Now it didn't stand out in being the only one home not being locked right now.
This was one of the reasons many pegasi preferred homes on the ground. Their locks could be used while they were inside their homes and thieves didn't benefit from using binoculars to check which color one's house was.
The key to her home went down in a letter she had prepared and on her way down she put it in the mailbox next to the reception's desk.
With that out of the way, she began her descent down to the nearby town below. While Cloudsdale drifted across Equestria in accordance with Cloudsdale tradition, they usually tried to avoid staying over any dense residential area for too long. They didn't want to block out the sun for the residence below. Therefore Silent Thunder couldn't just dive down to it she had to fly a distance too.
It was raining from Cloudsdale when she left it but she knew that in Los Pegasus it nearly never rained, they were ruled by bureaucrats that acted under the banner of anti-tradition. That is also why Trottingham and Los Pegasus where two major great cities next to each other and sometimes even overlapping because Los pegasus did not move from its geographical position. Sometimes ponies used them interchangeably.
That's where she was heading to the new job and home.
She sighed and landed at the train station. The sun was usually raised here at this time of the day but due to the foggy rainclouds from Cloudsdale covering up the east. The wind blew the rain onto the station. It formed puddles and darken the ground. Luckily, she had brought her bright yellow earth pony raincoat with her.
It was funny to contemplate: Earth ponies, Unicorns and Pegasi handled rain differently. Earth ponies who had mostly been all about hard manual labor had always favored raincoats while Unicorns who focused mostly on magical or intellectual pursuits had always favored umbrellas because if they were out in the rain it wouldn't be for long. Pegasi, who were above the clouds when they began raining had towels for mischievious foals.
Silent had brought the raincoat out from her backpack before she went down from Cloudsdale.
Walking around on the platform, Silent noticed that she was still had twenty minutes before the train would leave so she walked to the nearby shop to buy a newspaper.

>completely unrelated and arbitrary pic

>>198151
Btw, are you going to participate?

What ever Im in

I'm in.

>>197973
Wouldn't it be bad if someone were to post his or her story this early?
Like, if you finish the story tomorrow and post it, won't that give some kind of advantage?

>>198239
bitch you ain't me!

Might as well enter to get an idea in my head out, at least partially.

>>198239
Great to have you. I changed my mind about the edgy stuff. I got on board this ship at the airing of the season 2 premire so like I have read all the old edge stories. Cupcakes, Rainbow Factory and such. I don't like them personally but it would be hypocritical of me not to read yours when I said that we should read eachothers just because I don't like the type. I guess this means that if I am not telling you that your story is garbage in the end, you are doing something wrong.

>>198460
Eh, maybe. I don't really know how you would go about using that information though. It is also not the most serious of competitions. It is still a competition and we will have a winner but like how does one measure the quality of stories and compare them to each other fairly? I won't reall regret it if I give some anon in the competition an advice the end up using to beat me either.

>Her story
>Implying femanons on mlpol
right

>>198446
Great to hear friend. Btw I have finished your detective novel. Really enjoyed it man. Will actually post a semi-review of it soon.

>>198537
"Young Lady, watch your language. Or do you want me to make an appointment with Mr. Soap when we come home?"

Just a shitty start

>>198582
You can't stop me from putting as much profanity in my stories as I want, sven!

>>198579
>Her story
>Implying femanons on mlpol
>right
i wish

>>198681
It is hard for them to accept their inferiority to horses.

Alright, here's part 1/fuckifIknow of my 1st entry

>Be Anonymous, Brother-Sargeant of the Imperial Fists' Second Company
>Be in the Battle Barge Dorn's First Light, mid-warp
>You and your company are heading back to Holy Terra now that your previous mission is finished
>You'll have to report to the captain about what you and your squad did eventually, but in the meantime, your weapons need cleaning
>No, you're not having a techmarine do it
>At this point, you can do in 10 minutes what it would take him 10 days to do
>No offense to him, he's still the go-to for anything larger than a standard-issue bolter
>You just like having your equipment ready for the next mission as soon as possible, and asap is what happens when you cut out all the extra Mechanicus-required BS from maintenance
>Tech-Heresy, what's that?
>Anyway, you're reassembling your bolter when you hear an alarm go off
>You also hear what sounds like shit hitting the fan when you get hit by a very distinct feeling of dread
>Did the Gellar Field Generator just fail?
>You put your helmet back on and grab your weapons to go see what just happened
>Judging by the fact that there are a lot more tentacles in this hall than you remember there being, the Gellar Field Generator did indeed fail
>Well, at least things physically can't get worse from here
>You go back inside your quarters to grab your chainsword, then start cutting your way towards the sound of fighting
>After several minutes of combatting assorted warpspawns and a major warp-induced headache, you hear a distinctly non-daemonic sound behind you
>"Sargeant, over here! We require your assistance in the hold!"
>Good, some of your men are still around
>You charge over to them to see that they built a barricade in front of an accessway
>That accessway also holds much of the sounds of fighting
"What's the situation?"
>"A portal opened up in here as soon as the field went down, luckily there were still a few of us around to sound the alarms and build up defenses."
"Any idea of what caused the field's failure yet?"
>"There are no leads as of yet but we suspect tampering from a possible traitor in the ranks!"
"Are there any Librarians around to close the portal?"
>"We sent a call, but last we heard they were protecting the Navigator and Astropath."
"Then it appears up to us for now."
>The two other marines step aside as you move out of the makeshift bunker and over to a door on the other side of the accessway
>You cautiously open the door, only to have it blown off its hinges by a ball of warpfire
>Across the entire room, all you can see are marines and daemons fighting
>Bloodletters, Horrors, even a few plaguebearers and daemonettes
>Most of the marines you see have managed to convert much of the cargo in the hold into a form of cover, but a few are attempting to press forward into the rest of the hold
>You decide that you're more needed in helping to press enemy lines than in helping your own lines remain unpressed
>After all, there's no objective the Imperial Fists can't hold!
>Why else would Holy Terra remain untouched by heretics and xenos?
>Without further ado, you draw your bolter and begin firing into the assaulting hordes of chaos, hoping to open a path to this 'portal'
>Seeing you leading a charge, many more marines begin pressing out of fortifications and aiding with the assault
>Soon enough, this full-scale attack breaks the disorganized enemy lines and gives you an opening to move farther into the hold
>This repeats until you finally make it back to the center of the room, past multiple stacks of crates and many of the slain hordes of the Ruinous Powers
>Once you get there, you see it
>An unmistakable portal, with a dead marine next to it and daemons pouring out of it
>Emperor save us

>>198842
2/?

>You begin thinking to yourself about a way to deal with this problem while the rest of your squad and everyone else nearby begin setting up proper defenses around it
>The hordes are still pouring through while this happens, but it all grows easier to keep at bay as time goes on
>This slight reprieve even gives you an opportunity to look at the body of the fallen marine from afar
>Blood-soaked mono-knife in hand, a slit throat and an 8-pointed star carved onto his forehead
>That nigga definitely chaos
>Your thoughts are briefly interrupted by some commotion from the other side of the portal
>It seems the first greater daemon has arrived and threatens to breach your circle
>This portal needs to be closed before any more get through!
>You find someone with a walkie-talkie and get his attention
"You! If you haven't already, send for a librarian!"
>"I already have, sir; nothing but static came back!"
>Then the battle is already lost
>Without a psyker to close this portal, it will keep spitting out bigger and bigger daemons until the entire ship is overrun
>Perhaps there is another solution, but it will take time to think of
>Time you may not have
>Regardless, you have to try
>Eventually the greater daemon is felled, but it is replaced by two more as soon as it falls
>Not all is bad though, as you've just gotten an idea!
>If one traitor sacrificed himself to open this portal, maybe one brother can sacrifice himself to close it?
>That may be, but you shall not allow any but yourself to make this sacrifice
>If your guess is wrong, none should bear the consequences but you
>You reach into the ammo crate next to you, grab out as many bolt rounds as you can reasonably carry along with a krak grenade, and steel yourself for what comes next
>Without any warning, you leap over what's left of the barrier surrounding the portal, charge past the two greater daemons, and surprise everything in the room by leaping inside the portal
>Whatever steeling you did, it certainly didn't prepare you for this
>You're instantly hit with a wave of pain and fatigue as the raw energy of the warp begins gnawing at your psyche
>Despite this, you stay upright and see many things before you
>The beginning of the universe, the end of time, the faces of at least two of the four chaos gods, and something that looks important
>Keeping hold of every ounce of willpower you can, you shut out all the voices now screaming at you from inside your head and run over to the important-looking thing
>As you get closer, you feel this mental assault increase in power
>Still, you charge boldly forward to this object with all your might and courage, shooting or cutting down anything that gets too close
>When you finally reach the base of this object, you can see that it's some sort of a pylon directing energy into the portal
>As you begin falling from consciousness, you use the last of your strength to arm the krak
>With the destruction of this pylon hopefully secured, you finally allow yourself to drift
>The last thing you remember is a deafening explosion being cut short, followed by all the pent-up warp energy being released in a blinding flash

>>198579
Cool, happy to hear it. I'm actually working on a revision of it now, not sure what I will do with it. Also, sorry I never reviewed yours, I got caught up in other things after November. I will get to it, I promise.

My entry I_tried.jpg 1/2
“The nights of canterlot, it is said they are the prettiest of the empire”
A sharp gentlecolt swung around the cobblestone streets a bit tipsy maybe but classy still.
The bluish hue from the moonlight rains encompassing everything like the hug of a mother only to stop at the light streets with fought it with a warm golden hue.
In the shadows of an alley, apart from the view, a hooded figure stalked standing in two legs.
Armed with claws and a fur to put envy on the night, he just awaited for the right moment to strike. This creature of the night, was nothing but a vile thief, and a good one at that.
“Target confirmed” he said to himself, that stallion was no doubt in huge mischief.
A sudden distraction was all that it took for the stallion to fall head-first on the ground.
It was just these seconds that made him excel at the job; With a sharp strike he cut-off the pouch, with an unmatched agility he fled through the street and under the shadows he laid quiet without stress.
“Gotcha” Was all he would exclaim, with the pouch on his paws and his conviction unharmed, he was ready for the big charade.
The stallion got up from the ground what had just happened he just didn’t know, the thief had succeeded at his most basic quest, to get what he wanted with no one to view.
“Three bits, two jewels, a rock and a key” his voice seemed disappointed at best. The bits he kept, the jewels as well, the rock just in case and the key he just needs.
It was not too long ago, back home in the wagon he and his brother had set up a bet, the winner keeps it all, the loser deals with the guards.
Their target was the princess, and the priceless crown that on her head she presents. In the depths of the night they were to strike.
And so he goes, armed with nothing but his wits and the key, the feline vanished in darkness making his way to the place.
His entry if anything could not be that hard, but a heavy patrol was always on guard.
The cat did not want to keep fooling around, he was prepared for this or whatever to come; Years of “work” had given to him dirtiest of tricks and sharpest of minds.
The feline pulls back the cowl from his head, his black fur shines when hit by the light, his whiskers spasm and his eyes stare: “Two stallions ahead and some to come, this will be quick as a quirk and soon it’ll be done.”
The feline approached, no hesitation at all, not even fear could be seen on his face. With a smile to impress, he approached the guards.
They soon took notice and started to unease, the cat with the smile did nothing but state:
“Gentlecolts, please, I ask you no more than a bit of your time, you shall see wonders maybe even sublime”
The stallions looked but didn’t react, were they horses or statues as a jest for those who pass?
Their expression was serious, they weapons steady and their mouth silent as a cemetery. The light of the moon put on their face the eeriest of airs. Uncanny and unnerving, unnerving indeed, for a foe to watch and not even react.
As the thoughts compiled, his smile was gone, a shake of the head and it was all set again.
“How about a card trick?” He said, throwing some cards high in the air. The stallions did glance at this sudden act but that was still not the point of the hack.
One by one the cards would just fall, all of them perfectly aligned on his paw as if they willed to just do as he says.
Spreading the cards for the stallions to see, the feline exclaimed: “Take a card” he would say.
Metallic in nature and indeed very small, the device was evil and made for the purpose at paw; With a spring for its heart and a ring for its brain, all the user would need was to fill it and fire for problems to pass.
Filled with poison it would kill the rival, filled with powder he would be put to sleep one charge that is as two were a kill maybe three out of gall but that was just exaggerating the attack. In this case the cat didn’t meant to slay for this he just shot one charge and withdrew from the fight.
The stallions were pissed and shaken indeed, their neutral expression soon was embraced with rage of no amount. With weapons now drawn they would charge at the cat. Dodging and jumping he just kept out of reach “Work out my stallions and succumb to the sleep” the more they moved, the worse it get, as soon as it started it ended the brawl.
Both his foes slept on the ground. The feline then obscured the bodies from view: a glance of this and suspicion would rise, soon he’d be found and that would simply be unwise.
Behind two bushes two stallions slept, with full golden armor and their weapons at rest; They won’t wake up till the sun comes to shine.
On an impeccable performance the thief jumps the wall, the garden of the palace rests just behind the wall. A fine new stage for his paws to enthrall, full of bushes and shadows to hide.
From one bush to a tree and then to a den, the thief crept around making his way through the field. The heavy patrol no problem for now, he was too quick and by long not a fool.
To aim for the front would be a suicide no doubt, the key had become useless at this point.
“Maybe it is better to try the backdoor” Better to push than to die stillborn. At the backdoor, no guards were around, fishy with no doubt.

“A lockpick will do” he thought to himself, positioning the claw and lockpick in place.
*Snap* and it’s done, the lockpick’s no more. “A magical door”, the cat understood, It was to be expected for the royal family would not leave their skeletons for show.
Lockpicks won’t do, this was no ordinary door, the ceiling too high and he had only the key of front door.

>>199132
2/3
A frontal attack would be certain death, he was no fighter and his tricks all limited, so what could he do but inspect his pocket in search for an answer, a golden key shined and he pondered a while.
A magical door requires a key, would it distinguish between this one and its own?
And so he came with a plan, with a lock pick and key he prayed for the night mother to guide his way.
*Click* went the door and a screech could be heard, it was the hinges stretching after a really long rest. There he stood with an incredulous look, had the night mother accepted his plea? Maybe this wasn’t such bad an idea.
After a meticulous examination and a few steps, he was inside that curious place. Heavy walls of cobblestone blocks adorned with torches that never ran out; At the end of the place a sat a set of stairs.
Closing the door, a sudden silence assaulted his ears, not even the flames dared to speak.
The place was tidy, in no way left behind, didn’t look abandoned, the torches were light. No cobwebs around even the cobblestone on the floor was heavily worn, no doubt someone used this place.
“No time to think about the meaning of this” he thought to himself, ignoring the chill.
No place to hide and no doors unlocked, at least the second he just supposed, were for someone to ever spot him, a dash and a clash would ever suffice?
Controlling his breath and with the lightest steps, carefully he creeps his way to the stairs, just in case traps be on place or foes to be patrolling the place. With every step, his bones would rattle, he would hear even the faintest of sounds as his ears grow desperate for something to kill the silence of the place.
And all of a sudden he started to hear: A faint whisper at first he mistook for the wind, but as every step he took to the door he would ponder the cause of this one weird sound.
“No time to figure” he thought to himself, already too late to go on and retreat. Steeping his steps, the sound accompanied, his respiration got heavier as the nerves appear; The door ahead was right next to his reach.
With a firm grasp, he took the knob and pulled it light, a sudden breeze brings darkness and a chill to his spine.
Turning around, all the lights were off, was it the breeze? Too spooked to think and quick as a flash stepped outside, door slamming behind, with the sound he but cringed as it resonated afar, but at least the previous room was but a memory now.
In front of him stood the darkest of rooms, only the faintest of lights could be seen from the thick glass of the windows that adorned the place. Lucky for him night vision was easy as closing his eyes, suddenly that room was bright as the day.
The massive room extended quite far, it was two stories, ceiling as high as the sky; The first floor was big, a chamber that is while the second was more of a path to a door: it had no floor by the middle but two small paths following rails that ensured from there no one would fall.
Blending with the shadows and scouting around, he just confirmed no one’s around. Not even a chirp from a mouse was heard, what was this eerie atmosphere of the place?
In the middle he could see a table just awaiting abuse: the blackest of woods made up its figure contrasting with the mantel of a shining white glow that presented details of the warmest of reds, such table was worth no less than a king, this was sure the place he wanted to be.
He ignored this glance and went up the staircase, a bluish hue that hit on the floor contrasted the bright red of the carpet about.
Both corridors followed behind of the rails becoming but one in front of the door. A full moon was engraved on the hardwood, emblematic indeed but mysterious was not.
“This is the place, I made no mistake” he reassured himself, skipping ahead to the sturdy door’s place.
In front of the door he could see no knob, was this another of the magical doors?
He touched the engraving, a chill through his mane. The door opens with grace as if by art of magic, giving him glance of a dark room ahead, a bed and some bookcases as well as some chests.
“The crown must be here, somewhere around here” the thief was skeptic but thinking of treasure matched by none.
He decided to risk it and stepped into the place, a sudden *Snap* and the door was now closed, the cat was trapped and his once black fur had turned all pale. With a stick on his throat and no weight on the stomach, he turned around faster than his body would let him, or was it just an adrenaline confusion?
“I have captured thee vile cutpurse” the sudden voice made his blood frozen, was it a guard that had tended a trap? He turned around like a sacredly cat only mare stood there just watching him act.
“Excuse me, fine mare, for I was searching for crowns and not expecting a diamond to suddenly show” as smooth as he could he had set up his words, was this the princess? He just didn’t know but for sure it’s a mare, were her to scream all his plans would be done.
“Thou cometh to plunder my virtue?” Asked the mare, not amused her face, was her desire that of being abused?
“Plunder’s harsh word for such palfrey as you, fondle is the world a gallant would choose” Said the thief, closing the distance.
The mare smiled and laid on the bed, as the thief approached ready for her.
“Thou hast mistaken picaroon, let us reave tantivy all the night long.”

>>199133
3/3
The sun that morning was high on the sky, beaming down to earth and the thief’s face alike.
Annoyed by this he wanted to sleep, that is till the realization just came: this was not his house and neither his bed.
The door was open, what a relief, the smell of fresh food made his stomach rebel. What happened to the mare that he had salvaged?
Out of the room, he went down the stairs, on the table a banquet, but no one else to dine.
He went for the chair and noticed quite fast, a clue left for him at last; It was a note all folded engraved with a seal, the writing he knew but the seal he ignores, the words on the letter were read as it follows:
“100 bits for a strumpet, and how much is the crown? Better to get out, the guards are to come.
Signed your brother with the crown on his paws.”

So I will return to this later. Gotta get some dinner. But this is basically my unfinished and late entry.

1

”Sargeant, the general wants you to return to base immediately!” Some private had managed to crawl forth to his ditch while avoiding the bombardment of malicious spells that was currently and constantly raining down around them. Some hitting the ground with explosions, others in flashes against the sandbag walls and some others did something unexpected like painting the ground with a glowing light that took the form of some kind of symbol. The only thing that they had in common was that they all had different colors even the explosions.
While the barrage was constant there were moments when the frequency of spells went from deafening and seizure-inducing to that you could hear the people next to you and you could actually duck out of cover. Obviously, since the man had crawled here and he could hear him that meant that this was such a moment. That was why pushed himself over the edge and fired a couple of shots in the direction of some boulder. He knew there were a couple of unicorns there. His timing was on point because a unicorn muzzle came out from the rock at the same time as he fired a few shots. Causing the unicorn to fall into cover again but this time not on his own accord.
Each time he shot, the bang deafen him so the soldier's words that were shouted into his ears were at those moments blocked out.
”The General wants you toBANG!GYO-943 for BANG! It has been an Bang! sir!”
Even though he had missed important details from the speech, he could fill in the gaps. He had been chosen for the ultra sleep project and would now go into ultra sleep for some for time only the head knew. Why? Heck if he knew. Perhaps it was for his record.
Abruptly the barrage stopped. That could only mean one thing, he realized. He stood up and removed his big, gleaming grey knife out of its sheath.
He was right the earthponies were rushing forth in an assault. They were armored and bulky and they intended to trample them.
”Earthponies!” He shouted out. He didn't need to say anything more because the men knew what that meant.
There was one coming at him. He had fought these creatures so much now that he could read their body language and predict their moves. This one was not going to slow down and try to buck him with its hind legs. It was going to ram him.
Fine by him. He lowered his entire body forth and bent his legs so they were like springs, ready to take any impact. To keep himself in balance, he also dug down his shoes into the mud. The pony was in the size of a great dane, which was pretty much largest size a male earth pony types became. It was quite extraordinaire but Seargent Zald wasn't small either.
However, he did not intend to stop the pony's momentum by standing there and take it even if he might been able to. As the pony jumped the last distance towards him and stretch out his hooves which now had all its weight behind them. Zald took a step to the side and ducking. He managed to time it so that he wrapped his free arm around the pony and then he held onto him while letting go of his footing. It causes him to roll backward and a force the pony to roll with him. When they stopped rolling, Zald ended up on top of him. Like a woodpecker, his knife began to chop into his chest. Needless to say, the pony died quickly.
As he stood up, several glowing and differently colored wisps flew past him. The earth ponies must all been dead if the unicorn had begun their firing again he realized. Their push had been a quite the bust. This made him smile as hunched behind the nearest protection he could find.
”Sir, you must leave the battlefield. That is an order from the general.”
He laughed darkly.
”Tell him that he can fuBANG in the aBANG! with a BANG!. I will kill as many of these fiends as I possibly can and nobody will get in my way.”
He had a wicked broad smile on his lips that stretch so much that they showed teeth. His eyes were glued to the sky and like a rabid dog, there was this white bubbly drool that slid down from the corners of his mouth. He was also cackling and beating himself in the head with the palm of his hand.
”Please, sir. You need to-” The soldier was cut off.
”No, you need to be quiet.” He aimed the point of his knife towards him. ”I have ponies to kill.”
He then realized that he didn't have his rifle. He peeked out of the cover towards his last ditch. There it laid. Anger welled up in him at himself but he cursed the earthponies for it instead.
”I am sorry, sir.”
He turned around only to see the muzzle of some kind of gun aimed into his stomach. His vision became blurry as he saw red feather and needle and stuff... being injectd nd suff darts are sharp you knw?

2

The bell rang signaling the day's end. Ms. Index ended her lecture like she usually did with the bell after saying the absolute minimum of what she had left to say. After she was done the class immediately started to push in their chairs under their benches and pick up their things, all except Lyra Heartstrings. She usually waited until the rest of the class was gathered around the doorway where they anyway had to wait in the very packed line that formed around the door. Apparently, everyone had to exit at the same time. Lyra had discovered that if she wasn't one of the first out the door then she would be about as fast out as anyone else in the line so she preferred to stay at her bench.
Today was a bit of an exception to this. She still wasn't going to try to exit yet but she had some question for her teacher so she walked up to her. Ms. Index was her class' history teacher and homeroom teacher.
”Index, I have some questions to ask. Do you have time right now?”
Ms. Index had been looking at the direction of the exit when Lyra asked the question with a skeptical look plastered on her face.
”Yes, you can Lyra. I wish more of your classmates would do that instead of acting like the bell is the start shoot to a one hundred meters race.”
She shook her head.
”I suppose I have seen worse. Anyway, Lyra what did you have on your heartstrings. Is it more questions regarding humans?”
”No, did the old convininceia pony tribes have agriculture or did they depend entirely on fishing?”
Ms. Index rolled her eyes.
”So it is not about humans but about ponies who worshipped them, huh? Oh, no. They were completely depended on fishing. There is no evidence of agriculture in that area at the time for... Well, since the earliest finds of agriculture was found seven thousand years ago after Equestria was founded and the convininceias lived two-thousand years prior to that.
Lyra had listened intently yet she seemed eager to say something. It seemed like she already knew this but just wanted it verified by her teacher.
”I read an earthpony lore about a young earthpony colt from the contrivecia tribe meeting with a friendly human that taught him how to farm crops. I just thought that if one human knew how to grow crops then other humans must have as well. Meaning, that if the Convinceias didn't have agriculture yet worshipped human then humans probably didn't actually live among them as it sometimes is speculated. Then again it is just folklore.”
As Lyra pondered her own words, a smile crept upon Ms. Index lips.
”Hehe, maybe one day Lyra, a human stud will hold you in his sweet furless embrace as you walk in the moonlight.”
As she was saying this, Ms. Index was hugging herself and while making mock kissing noises.
With a deadpanned expression on her face, Lyra turned to see the last few of her classmates exit.
”Bye, Ms. Index.”
”Bye Lyra and have a great week now. And don't slack off, I can't have my favorite student fall behind.” Ms. Index practically shouted after her. Perhaps she wanted to make it clear that what she just did was just a harmless joke by telling her that she liked her.
As Lyra exited out into the corridor, she saw Lemon Zest sitting on a bench clearly waiting for her because she stood up as she saw Lyra.
”Hiya, Lyra.”
With a hoof she took off her headphones and let them hang around her neck instead. They were pink matching her body which was also pink. Out of the speakers exited some trash metal which you could clearly hear since it produced sounds one would make will throwing one's garbage in a container. Her mane was green, ruffled and long with strikes of yellow. Her tail was the same.
”Hi, Lemon.”
Lyra waited for Lemon to talk first due to reasons.
Lemon opened her saddlebag and brought out a pamphlet. It was purple on the outside with a bunch of stars and glitter glued on it and pink on the inside. She reached it out to Lyra who happily took it in her magic.
”I know how girly it looks but look I didn't make it. It was Cheerlie and she insisted.”
As she said this Lyra had already opened it and began to read.
It was an invitation to spend the next weekend including Friday on the eastern coast near Salt city. They were going to rent some cottages together near the beach. The pamphlet mentioned bathing and playing games as some of the planned activities they were going to do. It seemed like a weekend of fun with friends.
When Lyra look up from the pamphlet, she was meet with two expecting eyes. It was clear that this party/camp/sleepover whatever was a big deal to her.
”Well, I don't have anything I must do next weekend. So why not.”
A big smiled came upon her lips.
”Great! It will be a lot of fun. I will be near the beach and from what I have heard the pegasuses there are going to clear the sky for the next week. I mean sure it still might be too cold after all it is not summer yet but in that case, I brought games we can play. The most important thing is that we are there together I think. Also, there is this”
The way Lemon blather on just cemented the idea that this was important to her in Lyra's head. Lyra had noticed that Lemon hadn't noticed that she had started to follow the path Lyra was taking not that she wanted to get away from her. It was just funny to see someone so encapsulated by an idea that she didn't notice what was happening around her. Her body language made her seem almost giddy in enthusiasm the way she skipped forth to emphasize certain things she said.
”So who have you invited more than me?” Lyra asked.
This question punctuated her nonstop monolog about the event and she immediately shifted gears.
”Oh, right that's what I wanted to ask you. Do you know where Shining is? I should have asked Sugar Bell before but I forgot all about it.”
”Shining Armour?”
”Yes, I have seen him with you and Sugar and I know he is also friends with Soarin and I invited him because he is Fleetfoot's coltfriend. I mean it is more fun with a few guys, right?”

So I am going to read what the rest of you guys wrote. Obviously, since I missed the deadline and don't have an ending for my stoyr yet, I think it is fair for any potential judges to not even give me any score or simply give my a few minus points.
So before I get into why I was so late. Thank you for participating: >>199132>>198842>>198604>>198911
While only one of us seems to have finsihed their story and non of us wrote somthing huge. I haven't full read everyones entry yet but I will and I will give you some of my thoughts. From what I have read though, is is clear that everyone is capable and has a very distinct taste in literature if I assume what you write is reflecting of what you like. So yeah, I think that you guys and I are similar if I had put more time the stories would be finished well, except for the guy who finished his.
I won't get to the reviews tonight but it will happend in the comming days.

Alright, I was totally going to write something serious and then I got caught up writing a shitpost in another thread instead. So, since it seems I'm out of time, I am now officially submitting this shitpost as my entry. Reposted in a pastebin for easier consumption.

https://pastebin.com/SPzerCrz

>>199349
Oh wait shit, did I miss the deadline? I thought it was this weekend.

Fillies and Gentlecolts.

If you didn't notice it mentioned in the other thread, I will be one of the judges for this competition. Each story submitted to this thread will receive a thorough critique as well as a finite numeric rating on a scale of 0-10. Some other Canadian fag will also be doing the same thing from what I understand. The winner will be determined by ranking the combined totals from our two scores. Whoever ends up with the highest number wins. In the event of a tie, you will all kick each other in the balls as hard as you can over and over, and the last Anon standing will be officially crowned King of Writers. Your prize? The honor of being kicked in the balls again. Personally. By me.

I will begin reading your stories tonight. Reviews will likely begin within the next couple of days, and will go on for as long as it takes me to slog my way through this ocean of autism.

Until we meet again.

>>199411
If it comes down to a game of Ro-sham-bo, can I go first?

>>199411
Thank you for doing this Glimglam. It is very nice of you.

And you too Leaf. Whenever you show up. Probably in Autumn.Tried to make a funny picture but I ain't got the time. Take this one instead.

>>199468
cute

>>197973
> All participants must give feedback to each and every one of the other competitors
Should we do this before or after the judgement?

>>199411
It will be an honor to get my story ravaged by you, gentleman.

>>199479
>Should we do this before or after the judgement?
Do it whenever you want, I think. I guess the judges could potentially have their focus shifted towards whatever point we bring up but I think we don't need to worry. But I guess the question is better asked to them. What do you guys prefeer? Should we non-judges post our feedback after or before you have posted your reviews?

>>197996
Right off the bat I will go ahead and give you +6 for a well-constructed opening scene and an interesting premise, and an extra +1 for the anonfilly reference. We are introduced to an unnamed protagonist who “discovers” that some foal porn got onto his computer “”””somehow””””. He immediately panics and calls another pony, explains the situation to her, and solicits her help in extricating himself from the situation.

We are immediately presented with a couple of characters, and are given a direct impression that the two of them are involved in some sort of intrigue. The MC appears to have been expecting somepony to try to set him up, and is anxious that guards may soon arrive on the scene to arrest him. However, we are given no details as to who this pony is, what he is involved in, and why somepony would be trying to frame him. This immediately hooks the reader’s interest and makes them want to know more.

I also like the way that we learn details about the characters through their conversation rather than narration. No more details are given than necessary, for instance we don’t know anything about the protagonist beyond that he is involved in something and is probably being set up by someone. The second pony, Fair Star, we learn is his sister by the fact that he addresses her as such, but we don’t discover it until the conversation is almost over. We also don’t know to what extent she is involved in whatever he is involved in, we simply get a sense that she is familiar with his troubles and has some experience in helping him deal with them. This is the way to build characters: sketch them out gradually, fill in details as you go, and don’t give the reader any more information than they need to understand what’s going on. So, all in all, you do a good job of piquing curiosity about your story and your characters, so I’ll give you another +2 for that.

However, I’m going to dock you -3 for grammar and some awkwardly constructed sentences. If it had just been a typo or two I’d have let it slide but there are a number of errors and bad sentences in here. For instance:

>He could not be sure before he had open it.
You'll want the past-tense here; "opened" rather than "open." I suspect this may just be a typo but I thought I'd point it out anyway.

>A green filly with some stallion where in the middle of a deplorable act for a filly her age.
"were," not "where."

>He had been a bit nervous when so many signals had gone unnoticed so he exhaled heavy in relief and got a bit less tense before he proceeded to return to the serious situation at hoof.
"heavily," not "heavy." Also, this sentence is a bit long, you may want to break it up with some commas.

>"They are after me now. They have hacked my computer and uploaded several gigabytes of foal pornography!" he said still in a state of panic.
Another situation where you'll want to insert a comma. "he said, still in a state of panic" reads more naturally than "he said still..." Also, this isn't a major thing but you may want to consider rewriting the line of dialog in the quotations. While there's nothing technically wrong with this sentence, writing spoken dialog is different from writing narration. The idea is that you want the sentence to read like something that a character might say out loud. While you generally want to stick to the King's English for narration, with spoken parts it's actually better to use contractions and casual slang because you want it to mimic actual speech. For instance, if you were saying this out loud you'd probably say "They're after me now" rather than "They are after me now." However, if you want this character to speak more formally then "they are" would be perfectly fine. There's no hard and fast rules for this, it's just a good idea to start thinking like this. Try to visualize who your character is and try to imagine how he/she might speak, and develop a style for each character based on that. Don't overdo it, just try to keep it in the back of your mind when writing dialog.

>Fair Star, the mare on the phone, who had been lazily laying on the couch at home, had been a bit unprepared to the sudden urgency and because of this hadn't fully comprehended the situation.
This is a very awkwardly written sentence. The meaning comes through clearly enough, but the words don't flow. For one thing "lazily laying" sounds off, because both words start with a "lay" sound. There's a technical term for what this is called but I don't remember what it is. Anyway, I probably wouldn't do that here as it is usually the kind of thing you do in verse or other situations where you want the reader to notice the language, and in this case you're just trying to communicate something that's happening. Also, the phrase "had been a bit unprepared to the sudden urgency" doesn't make sense; you likely mean "unprepared FOR the sudden urgency." In any event though, this whole sentence is kind of a long, circuitous way of saying something fairly simple. You will probably also want to split this into two separate sentences, one that explains that she was caught off guard, and one that explains that she doesn't completely comprehend what's going on. For example, I would probably write this as something like:

>Fair Star, the mare on the phone, had been lounging on the couch at home and had been caught off guard by his call. She did not yet seem to grasp the urgency of the situation.

Try reworking it a few different ways until you get something you like.

Anyway, there are some similar issues but you get the point. I would say go through and double check spelling, grammar, word use, etc. and read your sentences a little more carefully to make sure your meaning is clear. Also, you may want to workshop your dialog a bit.

As of your first post, your score is sitting at 6/10. Let us see what happens as this continues.

About time I sat my ass down and squeezed this all out. First, a little disclaimer. This'll be a first for me, dipping into giving actual reviews of other people's stories. I'll be taking the approach of being ceaselessly critical, since that's the approach I always take when I write and edit my own stories: going over the details with a fine-tooth comb until I spot mistakes and hammer them out, until I'm left with something between 'good enough' or 'fucking excellent'. Bit of a perfectionist's approach, but it's worked well for me, myself, and I so far. So if it sounds like I'm reaming any one story for no good reason, understand that details are a big thing for me, and that this is more or less what I do with my own stuff. Let my final numeric score speak to how much I enjoyed the story itself, in spite of my criticisms.

Now that I'm done overexplaining my process out of a neurotic need to provide completeness...

>>197996
Let's start with (You) up there, Cap'n Waste.

One of the first things that jumped out to me here was the amount of spelling errors. An error here or there isn't necessarily a big issue for me, especially if it's clearly a small typo that's easy to miss, but there were enough of them in very noticeable spots that it wound up taking me out of the experience. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that this is probably the woes of ESL talking, so it's somewhat forgivable in that regard, but it definitely needs some touching up.
Since this is most likely an ESL issue, just remember that spellcheck is not a cure-all for fixing this: it won't draw a distinction between "where" and "were", since both are spelled correctly but mean different things. For that, you're gonna need to leverage a grammar checker, too. A good one to use here would be Scribens (https://www.scribens.com/), which also has extensions for browsers and word processors. Of course, whether you want to autocheck things using online services is for your discerning InfoSec eye to judge.

Another thing I noticed quite often, and is a pretty common beginner's mistake, is the overuse of adverbs. If you're unsure what that means, it's any word that ends in "-ly"; "exactly", "luckily", "usually", "quickly", "slightly", you get the idea. Adverbs are often bad to use because for the most part, they don't add anything: there's little difference between the sentence
>Fair Star, the mare on the phone, who had been lazily laying on the couch at home, had been a bit unprepared to the sudden urgency and because of this hadn't fully comprehended the situation.
and:
>Fair Star, the mare on the phone, who had been laying on the couch at home, had been a bit unprepared to the sudden urgency and because of this hadn't comprehended the situation.
Well, there is one difference: the quality of the description. Adverbs, as used here, are used to spice up a sentence. In actual fact, however, the sentence itself needs to be rewritten such that it doesn't need to use adverbs at all. For example:
>Still groggy and laying across her couch at home, Fair Star, the mare on the phone, was slow in processing the information thrust upon her out of the blue, failing to pick up on the urgency of the situation.
The general rule here is: if it uses adverbs, it needs rewriting.
That's not to say you shouldn't use adverbs at all, far from it. But adverbs should only be used where they would give the most benefit, or if you're left with no other choice. A constant stream of "-ly" words is an easy immersion breaker.

On the subject of descriptions, the descriptions used here, from the very first sentence, sounded kinda robotic and list-like. Let me illustrate:
>From the image and its text, he knew what type of file this was. He also knew exactly why it was on his computer. Yet, it was mere speculation. He could not be sure before he had open it. He wanted to be lucky and be wrong.
Rearranged without editing:
- From the image and its text, he knew what type of file this was.
- He also knew exactly why it was on his computer.
- Yet, it was mere speculation.
- He could not be sure before he had open it.
- He wanted to be lucky and be wrong.
You see how it just reads like a list, and not a fully connected paragraph? That isn't very natural.
The classical rule of "reading your dialogue out to yourself" also applies to descriptions and internal dialogue. Remember: you're painting an image for the reader to be immersed into. Making a list just reads like, well, a list. But a proper description?
>`anon&filly.mp4`, the filename read. Of course. What else would it be? It's not like the thumbnail left much to the imagination. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder if it was a mistake. Maybe, he thought, it's nothing like that. Deciding to test his luck, he arrow-keyed over to it and struck the Enter key.
That's a fully integrated description right there. Things should read like organic descriptions, trains of thought, the whole shebang.

That takes care of most of my objections regarding the actual text itself. As for the story, well, I'm left a little lost here. The cheeky filly reference was definitely noticed, but only served to throw off the tone setting process. I really couldn't tell if this story was supposed to be silly or serious. The filly reference, and the overreaction of the protagonist all point to silliness, but the serious descriptions, given instructions, and that implication near the end point to a serious tale. There's a problem here of tone: I don't know what story is being told here, and can't get immersed because of it.
Then there's the second part of the story, or at least what I thought was the second part. Following imageboard convention, when I see a story segment replied to with another story segment, naturally I assume that it's the continuation of said story. And yet the contents of that second part were seemingly unrelated to the first part, with no common names, locations, or even a theme. I'm left confused as to what happened here. Was this a mistake? Was this supposed to be expanded upon later? I have no idea, and again, I'm taken out of the experience because of it.

Overall, I'm not 100% sure what to think of this. It felt like a longform story crammed into a short one, with a lot cut out to make it fit. It wasn't offensive or bad, but at the same time wasn't too appealing, either.
5/10

>>198842
Ahh, a greentext! I'll admit, I'm biased towards a good ole fashioned >green, and even if I hadn't known you wrote for the filly crowd beforehand, there's definite signs of experience in the text itself to indicate

While I'm not a 40K buff, at least beyond what's needed for the memes, I could still follow along with the terms, items and people being employed, and their importance to the story just through inferral alone, which was a big plus. Being able to write in the necessary subtext for inferring such detail is always a good skill to have, and I definitely see it put to some use here.

However, I do take issue with the level of detail used here. To be more specific, the lack thereof.
>You go back inside your quarters to grab your chainsword, then start cutting your way towards the sound of fighting
What, that's it? He just cuts his way towards it? Cuts through what, though? And how?
>You go back inside your quarters to grab your chainsword, head back towards the far more tentacle filled hallway, and rev up the blade for the slog ahead
>The tentacles don't pose much of a challenge, easily ripped apart in a spray of red with a swing of your trusty blade, the droplets painting what would be the first of many more layers of daemon blood upon your power armour
>Tentacle after disgusting tentacle is shredded, cut off and trampled as you clear your path towards the sounds of fighting up ahead
What little I know of 40K, I do know that this shit is supposed to get really, really visceral at times. But here, it's not really expanded upon. For most of the fights, it's a simple "go here, daemon ded, go there, daemon ded, etc." Where's the ultra violence? Where's the daemons attacking back, and the marine hurling their bitch asses off for a bolt through the forehead? Where's the feeling of a struggle? Where's the details on the mental fuckery the Warp does?
>This repeats until you finally--
Nigga, no! Don't wave that shit off, paint me a picture here!
Really though, if you're worried about repeating yourself over and over and sounding like a broken record, just remember the rule of three: repeat until you hit the third iteration, and then you can wave the rest off for the imagination to handle. You'd be amazed at how much the number three can be used as the guideline for knowing when to stop.

As for the story, it's very simple, and I mean that in a good way. Marine saves his ship from the daemons, pure and simple. It accomplishes exactly that, and doesn't try to be anything more. It's focused. Granted, I kinda wish there was more meat to the nitty-gritty parts, but what's there flows well, and ends well. Good stuff.

Overall, a nice read. Short, gets the point across, and wraps itself up without any loose ends. Quick, simple, efficient. I dig it.
8/10

>>200025
>>200070
Thanks for your reviews, guys. I will get back to more or less tell you how I received your criticism later. I just want to show you that I am listening, basically.
Anyway, just so you know. This story:>>197996, >>198200 is incomplete. Also; >>199318, >>199321 ignore these posts. They are mine and they belong to another story. I will explain this confusion later.

>>200025
>>198200

Part 2.

One of the things that always nags at me in horse-stories are situations where the characters are performing actions that would be difficult for a horse to perform without proper explanation being given as to how the actions are being performed. Case in point, the beginning of this segment.

We're introduced to a new character named Silent Thunder. As the segment starts, she is in the process of locking the door to her Cloudsdale home. Again, this is a common problem I run into when reading stories set in the Pony universe, one which I think a lot of authors do without realizing it. What Silent Thunder does here would not be a particularly complicated action for a human character, and in a human universe could be described as you have written it. She turns a key in a lock, and places the key in an envelope. However, for a four-legged creature with no opposable digits, these actions would be difficult to perform.

If you're writing a story with Unicorns you can generally cheat, because their magic allows them to do most of the things that humans can. However, Earth Ponies and Pegasi are limited by their horse bodies. I've seen some illustrations where Pegasi are using their wings in a hand-like way, which is a creative solution to the problem. I personally don't think this would work, since I assume that Pegasus wings are structured and function like bird wings, but I suppose cartoon logic gives you a little bit of leeway here. Anyway, that's a little beside the point.

Having a character with a non-human physical form requires you to think outside the box a little when writing. In the other thread I've got going where I dissect Nigel's story, I commented on a part where he has Big Mac climbing in and out of a hole, and I pointed out that this is an action that would probably be very difficult for him. Not impossible, but you'd want to take into account the pragmatic struggle of getting in and out when describing such a situation. In Nigel's case, the problem is part of the natural world: there's a big hole in the ground, and the character has to go in there for some reason. A humanoid character would solve that problem one way, an equine character would solve it differently.

In your case, however, the situation requires even more thought. Here, you have a man(pony)-made problem: locking and unlocking a door. Technology is usually created by and for the entities that use it, in order to solve natural problems. In this case, the natural problem is that you have a private residence that you want to restrict access to for anyone who doesn't live there. Considering that the location is Cloudsdale, you can assume that Pegasi are going to be the primary occupants of most of the houses there. A small metal key that turns a bolt is a useful enough solution for a humanoid creature, but is that the way a Pegasus would solve the same problem? Probably not. In order to use a key, the Pegasus would likely have to grip it in her mouth, turn it to the side in a motion that would probably hurt her neck, and pull it out of the lock without swallowing it. In fact, getting it into the lock would be it's own type of struggle. If you don't believe me, try locking and unlocking your front door without using your hands some time.

The issue to consider here is not just the problem of a Pegasus trying to use a key in a lock, but based on that problem, whether or not this technology would even exist in this world in the first place. Considering how common of an action locking and unlocking one's front door is, you have to assume that the Pegasus race would have thought up a solution to this problem that functions more in line with how their bodies work. Maybe the doors here have large round keyholes in the center, and the ponies have specially keyed horseshoes that fit the lock. Then it's just a matter of putting a hoof into the hole when you enter or leave your house.

There's a number of ways you could solve this problem, you just have to get creative and think outside the box a little. This may seem like a nitpicky, autistic concern but taking the time to consider little details like this goes a long way to improving the quality of a piece of fiction. It's similar to drawing: you could draw a simple outline of the shape of a table and have people recognize it as a table, however if you took the time to sketch out things like wood grain and the nuts and bolts that hold it together, it would look much better, and people would consider it a more believable representation of a table. People notice the things they don't notice, if that makes any sense.

All that said, the bit you came up with about the cloud-substance the houses are made of changing color based on the state of the lock is an interesting addition. It's good to think about stuff like that. Try to do more creative, out of the box thinking like this on these types of problems when writing, pay a little more attention to grammar and spelling and language use, and I think you could cook up some pretty high-quality horse fiction in the future.

Anyway, since it sounds like these two posts are the extent of this story in this thread, I am afraid I will have to stop reviewing you here and move on to the next entry. Sadly there is not really enough content to judge this story as a complete work, so you will have to be content with my nitpickings of these two sections. I will also say that the second part has many of the same grammatical problems and clumsy language use as the first, so you may refer to my comments in my previous post and assume they apply to this section as well.

All in all I think my previous scoring of 6/10 still stands. You have a nice beginning here, but you've still got quite a bit of work to do. Good idea, execution needs work. If you ever get more of this hammered out I will be happy to give you more notes at some point in the future.

Final score: 6/10

>>198604
Continuing to scroll the thread from top to bottom, our next selection is from Mr. Placeholder.

>His left was stroking down his mustache in a rhythmic matter and his right was clutching his beer.
Right off the bat I suspect this story will have a lot of mechanical issues similar to what I noticed in Waste's story. Some of it may be due to language barriers so I will try to take that into consideration. Anyway, you may want to elaborate that we're talking about his left and right hands; just saying "left" and "right" is a little vague. The meaning comes through clearly enough in the end, but as I've told other authors, the way you word things is important. Basically, if the wording feels off, the reader will likely notice, and that's the kind of thing you don't want the reader to notice. Also, you wrote "matter" but I'm assuming you intended to write "manner." Please try to spellcheck your work before posting it, it really does make a huge difference.

Alright, I've read a little more. I'm really trying to give your grammar the benefit of the doubt here because >flag, but this is really, really clumsily written. I hate to be a grammar nazi, but being able to properly communicate in the language you're writing in is important. So, that said, let's get some of the nitpicky shit out of the way before we delve too deeply into the story:

>He took another large sip and looked around dimly lid bar.
I'm assuming you meant to say "dimly lit," not "dimly lid." I'm also assuming you meant to say "looked around THE dimly lit bar," not "looked around dimly lid bar." Again, these kinds of errors are really easy to fix and it only takes a minute to skim over your work and check for them.

>The Jazz Music was playing barely loud enough to drown out the chatter of the four youngens that occupied his establishment.
"Jazz Music" does not need to be capitalized here as it is not a title or a proper noun; you can just say "The jazz music was playing." Also, "youngens" is a slang term. I don't know that there is any proper spelling for it as it is not technically a word, but it's a contraction of "young ones," so I usually write it as "young'uns" or "young 'uns." Using localized slang can be a good way to add color and characterization to a narrative and I encourage it, but you have to make sure you don't use it awkwardly or in a way that makes the story confusing.

>Raymond dropped his beer and jumped behind the counter but the strangers guy was already aimed at him.
Jesus fucking H. Christ, this sentence. Alright, I'm going to once again give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you simply made a typo, and "guy" in this case is meant to be "gun." Once the spelling error is fixed, all you need to do is add a comma and an apostrophe: "Raymond dropped his beer and jumped behind the counter, but the stranger's gun was already aimed at him." However, if you actually did intend to write "guy," this whole sentence just became 20% more autistic.

Just to show you what I mean, try reading this entire sentence as written in Skwizgaar Skwigelf's voice:
>Raymond dropped his beer and jumped behind the counter but the strangers guy was already aimed at him.

You'd probably want to write it as "Raymond dropped his beer and jumped behind the counter, but the guy was already aiming at him," assuming you want the word "guy" in there. Or, you could just leave out "guy" and say "...but the stranger was already aiming at him." However, I'm just going to assume that "guy" was meant to be "gun" here and move on.

>“You jumped,” said a calm voice, “why does everyone jump? You know you can’t adjust you trajectory in the air right? A clay pigeon and on this range?”
I'm assuming you meant "your trajectory," not "you trajectory." Also, "A clay pigeon and on this range" doesn't make sense. I'm assuming you mean "at this range," as "on this range" would imply that the "range" you are referring to is the cooking surface of a stove, with a clay pigeon sitting on top of it. However, even when grammatically corrected the meaning is still not clear. "Why does everyone jump? You know you can't adjust your trajectory in the air, right? A clay pigeon and at this range?" Sorry, but I really don't understand what you were trying to communicate here.

Anyway, I'm sorry; I'm not trying to be a dick. I could probably go through this whole thing line by line and probably find several more examples of badly written sentences that I could pull apart and make fun of, but you probably get the point. My intention isn't to mock you, it's to point out that you just need to pay more attention to how things are written. Writing a story is not just a matter of coming up with some characters and a setting, and narrating a sequence of events. You have to be able to use language effectively to paint the picture you want your reader to see.

I like to think of it as kind of an input/output process. In order to write well, it's important to also read. Pick up a book you like and read through it again, but go a bit slower. Pay attention to how the author uses language and how he describes things, then try to see if you can take some of your own ideas and illustrate them in a similar voice. Even just taking a single paragraph from this and reworking it a few times until it reads a bit more elegantly. Unfortunately it's not really the kind of thing that can be taught, you just have to learn how to do it on your own through trial and error. But definitely pay more attention to grammar and spelling, those errors are probably the most avoidable thing I'm seeing here.

Anyway, I'm running out of space and I haven't really addressed your story itself. I'll follow this post with another one that ignores technical construction and focuses solely on your story and characters, and after that I will give you a cumulative score.

>>200711
>>198604

Alright, I've read the whole thing now. Since the story is clearly unfinished and cuts off in the middle of Ch. 2, I'll just focus on the first chapter. You've actually got a pretty compelling scene here, which is why it's really a shame that this is so poorly written. I think if you're willing to roll up your sleeves and put some work into this you'll end up with an engaging opening scene to what could potentially be a great story.

The story opens in a dingy bar in what is presumably a pretty rough neighborhood. The man tending bar, Raymond, is presumably an older black man who serves a largely black clientele. Four rowdy thugs are sitting around a table, local toughs whom it is implied Raymond has dealt with before. They're troublemakers who don't pay, but Raymond has little choice but to put up with them since they're neighborhood heavyweights who might cause trouble for him if he made them mad. You lay out a bit of background info about Raymond as well: he learned the business from his uncle, who advised him not to drink on the job. He would probably like to sell his bar and move to a less dicey location, but it's probably not quite that simple. He may have a problem with alcohol, or consider himself to be at risk for developing one, so he is careful to regulate his intake of drink. Sometimes, though, he needs a nip or two to get him through the day. We get a nice sketch of Raymond and his bar; clumsy language and description aside, it's easy to conjure up an image of the kind of place you're describing, and you give us just enough information about Raymond to humanize him and make him sympathetic.

Suddenly, the relative tranquility of the scene is disrupted when a strange white guy enters the bar. We immediately get the sense that something is wrong, as frankly this is not the kind of place that white people generally come into. Raymond barely has time to process this, however, before the guy pulls out a gun and murders the four toughs sitting around the table.

He wings Raymond in the shoulder as well, and then approaches the bar and taunts him. Raymond pleads for his life, and the man continues to screw with him. We get the impression that this man is a dangerous psychopath. He is a foreign element in this setting, and his actions are not rational. He does not appear to be killing these men for any material or strategic gain; he is simply killing for fun. He gives Raymond a knife and tells him to cut off his own finger, and then when he does it he kills him anyway. Pretty nasty.

Anyway, like I said, you have a really great scene here, the problem is just that you wrote it badly. This is actually good news; most of what you need to learn is just Mr. Miyagi "wax on, wax off" type stuff that just takes practice. You have a good instinct for storytelling, and that is the important part. I don't know if you've been following my other thread, where I've been going through Nigel's Silver Star epic with a fine toothed comb, but Nigel basically has the opposite problem that you do. He has a fairly good grasp of the English language and can actually write quite eloquently when he puts his mind to it; however, he mostly squanders his ability by writing about Pokemon and stupid crap like that. His stories tend to be rambling and pointless, he goes off-topic constantly, and he has absolutely no intuitive grasp of how to write sympathetic characters or build an interesting scene. The things he needs to learn are more instinct than reason, and are much harder to teach than simple mechanics and grammar.

For comparison, Nigel's story is currently sitting at around 100,000 words, and he's barely even written what you could call an exposition. He has cooked up an entire detailed autistic backstory for his Silver Star character, and has only really succeeded in making him probably one of the most unlikable and shoddily-constructed OCs in the history of pony fiction, which is saying quite a bit. By contrast, your Raymond character is basically just a brief sketch of a man who only exists for a single scene and then gets killed. However, in just this short scene you've managed to craft a genuine human character that the reader can feel something for.

Anyways fuck no matter what I start writing I always end up talking about how bad a writer Nigel is. Whatever. Point is, fundamentally you have a good story, you just need to execute it properly. You could probably take what you've written and hand it off to a director like Scorsese or Tarantino and they could shoot an excellent scene just out of what you have here, without really needing to change any of the core elements or the sequence of events. Bottom line, you've got the fundamentals of storytelling down, now you just need to learn how to write. That's a pretty good position to be in, really.

Final score: 4/10

>>198842
All right, next we have...someone with the exact same name as the last anon I reviewed. Placeholder (AFT)...so I'm assuming the last guy named Placeholder I reviewed was Placeholder (FORE)? Herp derp nautical humor. Anyway, you're a Burger so I'm not going to pull any grammatical punches like I did for the last two faggots.

>Be Anonymous, Brother-Sargeant of the Imperial Fists' Second Company
You misspelled Sergeant.
>Be in the Battle Barge Dorn's First Light, mid-warp
I don't think I know what these words mean.
>You and your company are heading back to Holy Terra now that your previous mission is finished
Oh okay, it's like sci-fi or something. Carry on.

Anyway, you've got a pretty solid start here. The story begins on presumably some kind of military vessel in space. I get the impression this story may be set in a well-known universe, but I'm afraid that if it is I'm not familiar with whatever you're referencing, so you'll have to bear with me a bit. It feels like a video game universe, but I'm afraid I just don't play that many of them.

Anyway, we've got an unnamed protagonist, who is written in a deliberately vague way so that the reader can self-insert, a perfectly acceptable trope in greentext writing. As our story begins, he's just doing ordinary space-soldier stuff, when suddenly oh no! A space hatch blows or something and there's aliens and stuff. Emergency, better get down to the bridge, captain.

Anyway, space battle ensues. Anon goes back to his room to get his chainsword, which I assume is some combination of a chain and a sword, and sets himself to the task of fighting off whatever sort of creature has invaded the ship, and eventually regroups with several of his men at a blocked hallway.

>"What's the situation?"
>"A portal opened up in here as soon as the field went down, luckily there were still a few of us around to sound the alarms and build up defenses."
>"Any idea of what caused the field's failure yet?"
>"There are no leads as of yet but we suspect tampering from a possible traitor in the ranks!"
>"Are there any Librarians around to close the portal?"
>"We sent a call, but last we heard they were protecting the Navigator and Astropath."
>"Then it appears up to us for now."
This dialog is a little stilted. It's grammatically correct and conveys the information it's meant to convey, but it feels a bit like bad actors reading scripted lines. I suppose that since these men are soldiers and they are in the middle of a battle situation, it makes sense that they would be all-business right now, but even in a situation like that your characters are still individuals. I'll give you the same advice I've given others, in that before you write any dialog, try to have a good grasp on who your characters are personally and what speaking style they have. Even if you're just writing dialog for a generic space grunt whose only role in the story is to deliver some piece of simple information to the protagonist, he's still an individual and is likely to have his own personal nuances of speech.

In particular, I feel like "Then it appears up to us for now" is a bad line. No matter how you slice it, this just doesn't feel like natural speech. People usually don't speak this formally in everyday conversation, particularly not in situations where there are guns and space lasers going off, and assuming you're following standard space-opera conventions your space marine character will probably speak pretty gruffly in general. Personally I'd go with something along the lines of "Looks like it's all up to us," or "Looks like we're on our own for now." Sounds a bit more natural for something a space marine would say during a battle.

The other line you'll want to pay attention to is "There are no leads as of yet but we suspect tampering from a possible traitor in the ranks!" The issue here is partly that it is also a little too formal, but more than anything, it's too thorough. This is probably an accurate assessment of the situation, but you have to think about what's going on here and how much this guy the MC is talking to would really know. Some kind of force-field generator or something just failed, there's demons or aliens or something running around, which I assume isn't normally supposed to happen. Shit's getting real. These marines probably have training to deal with this kind of situation so they are likely not panicking, but realistically most people on the ship are going to be busy dealing with immediate threats and there probably isn't much communication going on. Nobody has really had time yet to investigate anything, and even if anyone has I doubt they've taken time to inform this low-level infantry grunt about it. Furthermore, he probably doesn't even care that much, nor is he thinking about it. His line of thought is most likely: deal with the immediate threat first, worry about the how and the why later. Therefore, I would probably have him say something more along the lines of "No idea, sir, but X is happening."

This may seem nitpicky and autistic but trust me, it will help flesh out your characters immensely to start thinking like this, even if you're just writing a one-off greentext adventure.

Anyway, just about out of space. I will continue this in a second post.

>>200951
>>198842

So anyway, when last we left our intrepid hero, he was barricaded up in some space hallway on a spaceship in space, fighting some kind of horde of demonic space creatures. He decides to remove the space barricades and go charging full-force into the room, and is immediately accosted by:
>Bloodletters, Horrors, even a few plaguebearers and daemonettes

Well shit, sounds like he's having a pretty rough day. Let's see if his fortunes improve somewhat in chapter two:

>>198843

Space-guy fights off a bunch of the alien demon things. Once that situation is more or less under control, he starts getting all Sun Tzu up in this bitch, strategizing and trying to figure shit out while his boys set up defenses and shit. After much deliberation, he comes to the conclusion that the giant space portal that all the demon alien things are coming through should probably be closed off somehow. So he grabs some nearby space grunt and commandeers his walkie-talkie.

>"You! If you haven't already, send for a librarian!"
Oh shit on top of everything else, he's apparently also got some overdue books he needs to return. Could this poor guy's day get any worse?

>"I already have, sir; nothing but static came back!"
Yeah, I'm sure it's got something to do with the government shutdown. You think those cat ladies are just going to shelve books all day for free?

>Then the battle is already lost
Oh shit that was a rather abrupt ending. Wait, there's more text after this.

>Without a psyker to close this portal, it will keep spitting out bigger and bigger daemons until the entire ship is overrun
Well duh.

Anyway, blah blah blah, shit's looking grim for our intrepid space hero. Alien space monsters just keep pouring out of the portal. He fights and fights and fights, but they're coming through faster than he can kill them. All hope is lost, perhaps it's time to abandon ship. Then suddenly, an idea.

>If one traitor sacrificed himself to open this portal, maybe one brother can sacrifice himself to close it?
It's always the black guy that dies in these stories.

>You reach into the ammo crate next to you, grab out as many bolt rounds as you can reasonably carry along with a krak grenade, and steel yourself for what comes next
I assume the krak grenade is to lure the black guy out? This is frankly just getting racist, I literally can't even right now.

>Without any warning, you leap over what's left of the barrier surrounding the portal, charge past the two greater daemons, and surprise everything in the room by leaping inside the portal
>Whatever steeling you did, it certainly didn't prepare you for this
Wait, is the M. Night Shyamalan twist of this story that (You) were the black guy all along? If that's the case, then I have to dock you a point because you misspelled "stealing."

>You're instantly hit with a wave of pain and fatigue as the raw energy of the warp begins gnawing at your psyche
To be fair that probably would hurt.

>As you begin falling from consciousness, you use the last of your strength to arm the krak
Dammit Tyrone, focus. The universe is ending and all you can think about is krak.

And then the grenade explodes and Tyrone presumably dies, sacrificing himself to close the portal.

Anyway, final verdict:

As much fun as I've had dunking on this particular selection, the truth is this is probably the best entry I've read so far. Apart from the fact that it's better constructed and executed than the previous two entries, you're the only anon so far who seems to have understood the point of the exercise (and that includes Sven, who started the contest in the first place). As I understand it, the objective here was not to write anything particularly long or complex, but to compose a self-contained piece of flash fiction that could be completed within the short period of time allowed. Obviously, a week or whatever we all had is not enough time to write an entire novel (unless your name is Nigel), so we should be getting pretty short, simple works here. According to Sven, the minimum length is 2000 words, and this actually falls short of that, clocking in at 1,232. However I am not going to dock any points for that, as you are the first anon to have successfully told a complete story, and you did a good job.

What you've got here is a complete story, without any holes, diversions or filler. Space nigger is minding his own business, when suddenly shit goes down. He runs off to investigate. Aliens are attacking, bad stuff is happening. He fights, but his best isn't good enough. He realizes that he can sacrifice himself to save the ship, and must make a moral decision of whether or not to do so. In the end he chooses duty, and dies doing what he loved (krak). We don't know what happens afterwards, but that isn't important as the story is not about the ship or the aliens, it's about the arc of this one character. His cycle is completed with his death, so the story ends appropriately.

In addition to being well composed, the story is well executed. Other than misspelling the word "Sergeant" there are no significant mechanical errors, and your writing is competent. Under normal circumstances I might dock points for >That nigga definitely chaos but this is greentext so it's okay to break character every now and then for humor.

All in all, this is a well-constructed, decent entry. The story is simplistic and a little corny, but that's fine. What I feel is important here is that you successfully executed a complete idea here, and you did it well. I'm docking you a point for the bad dialog I went over earlier, but so far you're in the lead as far as I'm concerned.

Final Score: 9/10

>>199132

Next is our good friend Dusker Keaton.

>A sharp gentlecolt swung around the cobblestone streets a bit tipsy maybe but classy still.
This is an awkwardly written sentence. For one thing, you have to pay attention to what verbs you use and how you use them. To say that the gentlecolt "swung around" the cobblestone streets doesn't really make sense. You can swing around a lamppost, or swing around the block maybe, but a street isn't really something you can swing around in this context. The image I think you're going for is of a fashionably-dressed pony walking down the street, somewhat inebriated but still maintaining his dignity. I'm guessing "swung" here is to imply that he's a little off his balance. In that case, you might want to say that he was swaying or staggering.

>The bluish hue from the moonlight rains encompassing everything like the hug of a mother only to stop at the light streets with fought it with a warm golden hue.
I appreciate the effort to be poetic, but if you're going to try to write elegant sentences like this you should be willing to spend a bit of time perfecting them. The biggest problem here is that there are just far too many words, and they all sort of run into each other. The actual meaning of this is pretty vague, and there are some blatant grammatical errors that ruin any visual effect you might have otherwise achieved. "Moonlight rains" should be "moonlit rains" for one thing, and it just breaks down into complete nonsense at the end: "...the light streets with fought it with a warm golden hue." Literally what?

The images I think you're trying to convey are rainy streets, moonlight, softly glowing streetlights. Nice, comfy scene; I can see why you'd want an elegant sentence describing it. It can be frustrating when you have an image in your head and can't figure out how to get it on paper. The main thing is you don't want to just jumble a bunch of pretty words and images together and throw it at the page, hoping it sounds poetic. That's a guaranteed way to get your writing laughed at and parodied. Just spend some time whittling down the imagery until the sentence conveys what you want it to convey.

For this particular sentence, I would say get rid of the bit about the mother's hug as it's a bit cringey and it doesn't really add anything. Also, you use the word "hue" twice, which is a bad idea. Use of the colors "blue" and "gold" is good; it gives the reader a distinct visual cue, although you should say "blue" instead of "bluish". Despite the fact that this sentence in its current form is almost complete nonsense, I was still able to get an impression of the image you were trying to paint just through references to colors.

Maybe do something like this:
"Rain-soaked moonlight bathed the city skyline in blue luminescence, until the soft golden glow of the streetlamps pushed it back." Frankly even that sentence needs quite a bit of retooling, and I myself rewrote it about four times just to get something I thought would make a decent example. This kind of shit takes forever to get right, you just have to keep hammering at it until you get something you can live with.

Anyway, this is going to take years if I go through this line by line. You've got your flag hidden, but I'm assuming this is probably another ESL situation. Taking this into consideration, there is a lot of awkwardly written and hard to understand shit in here that I'm going to have to just let slide, because again it would take forever to point it all out. This little gem for instance:
>Armed with claws and a fur to put envy on the night, he just awaited for the right moment to strike.
I literally have read this single sentence 9 times and I still have no idea what the fuck you were trying to say. In general, I would say that if you don't have a complete fluency in the language you are writing in, you should probably not get overly ambitious in trying to write vivid descriptions; just focus on writing grammatically correct sentences where the meaning is clear.

Okay, holy shit. I have now read the entirety of your first post. I'm really, really sorry and I'm honestly not trying to be a dick here, but this is borderline gibberish. I'm not even sure I can actually critique this. It's clear you put some honest effort into this and I can more or less tell what your story is about, but I'm afraid this is just so badly written it's almost completely unintelligible. Either you are the James Joyce of autism and your mastery of language is so far above the rest of us that we would need to ascend to a higher plane of existence to even comprehend it, or else you seriously need to work on your English before attempting something like this again, because holy shit this is basically 95% nonsense. Anyway, I am going to do the absolute best I can with this.

I'm running out of space here but I will begin to address what I can grasp of the story itself in my next post.

>>199132
>>199133
>>199134
>>201029

Continuing with Dusker.

>“Maybe it is better to try the backdoor” Better to push than to die stillborn. At the backdoor, no guards were around, fishy with no doubt.
Okay I know I said I wasn't going to zero in on any more individual lines but this one was just so amazingly ridiculous I felt the scene needed to be illustrated. Pic related.

Anyway, as far as it is humanly possible to tell, the basic plot here is that a cat-like creature, I'm assuming of the same species as Capper from the movie, robs a drunk stallion in order to steal a small key from him. His real objective I guess is to break into Canterlot Castle and steal one of the princesses' crowns. He (I think) goes to the castle, tries to pick the lock even though he has the key, then opens it with the key when picking the lock doesn't work. He steps into...some sort of room? Then this happens:
>Closing the door, a sudden silence assaulted his ears, not even the flames dared to speak.
>The place was tidy, in no way left behind, didn’t look abandoned, the torches were light. No cobwebs around even the cobblestone on the floor was heavily worn, no doubt someone used this place.

So, after his ears are apparently attacked by nothing and the flames don't have anything to say about it, he proceeds to...explore? I think? He steps into a tidy room that apparently was not left behind, has not been abandoned, and does not contain any heavy torches. He goes up some stairs and into another room, that apparently has a two-story ceiling as high as the sky. Then:

>In the middle he could see a table just awaiting abuse: the blackest of woods made up its figure contrasting with the mantel of a shining white glow that presented details of the warmest of reds, such table was worth no less than a king, this was sure the place he wanted to be.
So...I guess the cat guy is about to rape a table, if I'm following this correctly. Well, I guess that's what happens if you let your table go out dressed like a slut.

>A full moon was engraved on the hardwood, emblematic indeed but mysterious was not.
It is literally impossible not to read this line in Yoda's voice.

Anyway, I'm honestly not sure whether or not he actually fucks the table, but a few lines later he ends up in some sort of closet, with a horse who may or may not be one of the princesses. There seems to be some implication that he is contemplating >rape here as well. This cat is something of a busy fellow.
>“Excuse me, fine mare, for I was searching for crowns and not expecting a diamond to suddenly show” as smooth as he could he had set up his words, was this the princess? He just didn’t know but for sure it’s a mare, were her to scream all his plans would be done.

And then...

>“Thou cometh to plunder my virtue?” Asked the mare, not amused her face, was her desire that of being abused?
>“Plunder’s harsh word for such palfrey as you, fondle is the world a gallant would choose” Said the thief, closing the distance.
>The mare smiled and laid on the bed, as the thief approached ready for her.
>“Thou hast mistaken picaroon, let us reave tantivy all the night long.”
Holy fucking shit dude.

Okay, so anyway, if I'm still following what's going on, he apparently leaves the poor table alone, but goes instead into Luna's bedroom and reaves her tantivy all the night long. And then...you know what? I'm just going to post the ending in its entirety, because this really has to be read in the original Greek to be fully appreciated.

>The sun that morning was high on the sky, beaming down to earth and the thief’s face alike.
>Annoyed by this he wanted to sleep, that is till the realization just came: this was not his house and neither his bed.
>The door was open, what a relief, the smell of fresh food made his stomach rebel. What happened to the mare that he had salvaged?
>Out of the room, he went down the stairs, on the table a banquet, but no one else to dine.
>He went for the chair and noticed quite fast, a clue left for him at last; It was a note all folded engraved with a seal, the writing he knew but the seal he ignores, the words on the letter were read as it follows:
>“100 bits for a strumpet, and how much is the crown? Better to get out, the guards are to come.
>Signed your brother with the crown on his paws.”

Okay, final judgement:

Now that I have read this crazy thing in its entirety, I'm not sure my joke earlier was wholly inaccurate. I think you may actually, unironically, be the James Joyce of autism. This is some next level shit right here. This is...Jesus H. Christ. This reads like some strange combination of Ulysses, The Canterbury Tales, and the end result of dosing a thousand monkeys with LSD and turning them loose on a thousand typewriters. I'm not even sure I can actually rank this, because I have no idea what the hell this is.

Probably the weirdest thing about this is that it occasionally rhymes and seems to follow a meter, as if you were trying to write it as verse, but it doesn't do this consistently, and the meter changes from line to line where it happens. This is not pony fiction, this is a communication from the Elder Things, condensed into a vibration that can only be felt by and translated by an autist whose autism is beyond the measurable spectrum. You, sir, may just very well be that autist, and I weep for humanity should you ever discover your true potential.

I hate to do this, but according to the metric I've been judging the other stories by, I can't give this any higher than a 1/10 due to the fact that it is an utter clusterfuck. However, I really don't feel like it's even fair to judge this on a normal metric; this story deserves to be measured in a dimension all its own.

(official) Final score: 1/10

Final Score According to the Metric of Unfathomable Autism: ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn/10

>>201038
Thanks for the review glimmy, that was absolutely hilarious, glad you liked my piece.
I need more autism, you made sense of the plot

Alright, so it looks like there are fewer entries than I had previously thought. Since Sven told me to exclude his second entry, >>199318 and >>199321, it seems the last entry in the competition is from King Battlebrit.

>>199402
>>199403

Taking into account that you missed the deadline, as well as this clearly being a shitpost from another thread, I must in all good conscience request that Sven disqualify you from being considered in the final ranking. I'm just going to give some quick thoughts on this and then move on.

As a shitpost, this is pretty funny. The language is a bit overly florid, it's almost like you're trying a little too hard. Your depiction of Nigel is, as Nigel himself pointed out in the thread in which this story originally appears, a bit stereotypical. Typical fat, cheeto eating, fedora-tipping sperg. However, I will say that this is more or less how I imagine him too. I think we all do. So +1 for accurately depicting Nigel.

>Her horn fizzed briefly as she attempted to summon a magic hand to massage his tiny raisin balls and hopefully make him finish faster.
+1 for the phrase "tiny raisin balls." -1 for making me imagine Nigel's tiny raisin balls. Another -1 for making me imagine Twilight Sparkle massaging them.

Anyway, Twilight's magic is apparently running out for some unknown raisin, but she uses the last of it to summon Death (?) to challenge Nigel to a game of YuGiOh (??). Actually, Nigel challenges him (???). In most stories where this theme appears, challenging Death is just prolonging the inevitable; however, it seems Nigel's autism prevails and he is able to win against Death.

An incredibly long and autistic satire of the YuGiOh™ collectible card game follows, which is only slightly easier to follow than actual conversations about the actual game in the actual cartoon meant to advertise it. I forget the premise of that series, exactly; something about a dead Pharaoh coming back from the dead to possess a high school kid and force him to play the YuGiOh™ collectible card game, until the audience either dies of boredom or runs out to buy the card game. Anyway, I digress.

>Death had used his last Resurrection to revive Max Cavalera just so he could cast Nailbomb and take out Sepultura. That had put Nigel's Fudge Tunnel out of commission temporarily, but it seemed that now everything was riding on that one Probot. She wanted to keep hoping, but judging by the amount of Poison damage Nigel's Bret Michaels was inflicting, Twilight didn't think Death could hold out much longer.
+1 for obscure metal references.

Anyway, long story short, Nigel wins the card game. A sequence follows in which the phrase "Pow! Right in the kisser!" is repeated over and over pointlessly, in parody of Nigel's original fic in the thread where this story appears. By the way Nigel, everyone in that thread is absolutely right: repeating the same line over and over is pointless and nobody is going to read it. It makes me sad that this still needs to be pointed out after all the time I've spent trying to explain writing to you, but I digress. Maybe we'll discuss it in our next lesson.

Then, in possibly the most predictable deus ex machina ending you could possibly have gone with, Starlight Glimmer appears and rapes Nigel. She saves Twilight Sparkle from his cheeto-encrusted clutches, they go off into the sunset together to have meaningful conversations, and then Nigel is again rather predictably insulted and belittled by his personal heroes: the kid from Pokemon, and the kid from YuGiOh.

-1 for retreading old predictable themes, +1 for your almost uncanny insight into Nigel's personality.

>"Oh, sweetie," she said. "You should have realized: no matter how far you run, no matter what universe you flee to, the fundamental truth of life remains the same: YOU CAN'T SHIM SHAM THE GLIM GLAM."
Well, I can hardly argue with a statement like that.

Anyway, final judgement.

Concept: Ingmar Bergman/10
Shitpost Quality: Nigel/10
Glimmer Story Quality: Best Pony/10

>>199318
Alright, just for the sake of closure, Sven, I'm going to review your second late entry even though you asked me not to. I will include a numerical ranking which you can either include or exclude in the final winner tally, your choice.

>”Sargeant, the general wants you to return to base immediately!”
Much like our friend Placeholder (aft), you seem to have misspelled the word Sergeant. However, the fact that I've now seen the exact same incorrect spelling makes me wonder if this isn't some grossly wrong Euro-spelling that I'm not aware of, sort of like "labour" or "colour" or "the metric system." Anyway, if it is it's not that big a deal I guess.

>Some hitting the ground with explosions, others in flashes against the sandbag walls and some others did something unexpected like painting the ground with a glowing light that took the form of some kind of symbol. The only thing that they had in common was that they all had different colors even the explosions.
Again, you have a tendency to write somewhat long, rambling sentences that could do with some punctuation. There should be a comma between "walls and "and" in the first sentence, and "colors" and "even" in the second. Also, the first sentence is a run on and should be broken up. However, you may want to consider finding a different way to describe what's happening here. Instead of just describing that there are explosions happening, and they generally look like X or Y, say "A magic exploded suddenly nearby, and it did X. Another magic exploded elsewhere, and it did Y. Giving specific examples of what's happening instead of generalizations is always better."

>Obviously, since the man had crawled here and he could hear him that meant that this was such a moment. That was why pushed himself over the edge and fired a couple of shots in the direction of some boulder.
This is a little awkward, and your meaning isn't clear. Also, you may want to clarify whether we are dealing with humans or ponies right now, because I'm not sure. From mentioning magic spells and unicorn muzzles, I get a sense that this is a pony story, but "man" implies human. Am I reading a HiE story? I'm not sure yet. It's hard to visualize what is happening exactly.

In general, the grammar and mechanics issues here are the same as what I mentioned in your other story earlier in the thread (actually, I've been operating under the assumption that you're Waste, but I guess I don't know that for certain). You can probably refer to my comments on the mechanics of Waste's story and most of them would apply just as well here.

Okay, so as far as I can tell from what you have here, this appears to be a story about an army of humans fighting an army of ponies for some unknown reason. It's actually pretty entertaining; I chuckled a few times while reading. This kind of excessive violence in magical-friendship-ponyland is always kind of funny just for shock value. Plus Zald is the only pony who actually gets killed here, so nothing of value was lost. It's enough to pique reader curiosity I suppose, and you could probably flesh this idea out into something larger and more interesting if you wanted, although I personally think (again, still assuming that you and Waste are the same person) that the story about the pony who gets set up for downloading foal porn and his sister going on a super-secret spy mission or whatever is the more promising story.

>>199321
You know, I have to say that I'm not 100% sure if this is a continuation of the war story or the start of something new. I had this issue with the previous Waste submission where the first post is about foal porn guy and the second one is about a Pegasus in Cloudsdale. Generally when two unrelated narratives are presented to me as parts of a single work, I tend to assume that the stories are just chapters focusing on different characters to set up different story threads that converge at some point. Chapter 1 deals with character X, chapter 2 is about character Y, etc. I'm not sure if that's what's happening here.

In any event, considering that this was meant to just be a short writing exercise, you probably shouldn't be trying to set up anything too complicated. I think the best approach would be to do what Placeholder-Aft did and write a self-contained, simple story that can be set up and concluded in the space of a couple of posts. Even King Battlebrit's shitpost has a clear beginning, middle and ending. I think your problem is that you are getting a little too ambitious for the project.

Anyway, Chapter 2 appears to introduce Lyra Heartstrings as a student obsessed with humans. Perhaps she is being set up as a future romantic interest for the human in Chapter 1? Ah, but that guy hates ponies. What a wacky Odd Couple type situation this will be! Perhaps Lyra will warm his icy heart with her cool island song. Or, alternatively, perhaps the human will start having war flashbacks and eviscerate her. Only time will tell.

>”Bye Lyra and have a great week now. And don't slack off, I can't have my favorite student fall behind.” Ms. Index practically shouted after her. Perhaps she wanted to make it clear that what she just did was just a harmless joke by telling her that she liked her.
Also, you don't need to specifically mention that she was just joking and she really likes her. That level of explanation always comes across as unnecessary autism. If you just have the teacher shout the line with a note of mild anxiety it conveys to the reader that the teacher is probably worried she may have taken her joke too far.

Continuing in next post.

>>201071
Yeah, I wrote both of them so that's that. I will get back to you on your reviews. I just have stuff got to do first. But I have a lot to say.

>>201071
>>199321
Well, shit. Didn't mean to spoiler that last image. Oh well, no big deal. Anyway, continuing with Lyra.

>As Lyra exited out into the corridor, she saw Lemon Zest sitting on a bench clearly waiting for her because she stood up as she saw Lyra.
Again, this is probably more detail than is really necessary to explain something relatively simple. She was sitting on the bench waiting for her, and stood up when she saw her. You don't need to write a separate novel explaining the process.

>Out of the speakers exited some trash metal which you could clearly hear since it produced sounds one would make will throwing one's garbage in a container.
I'm assuming "trash metal" is a pun on "thrash metal." This could be a clever joke, but you need to tell it less autistically. Maybe something along the lines of:

>Lyra could hear loud, abrasive music blaring out of the speakers. Ponies called this style "trash metal," probably because it sounded like trash cans clanging together.

Anyway, moving on.

>Lyra waited for Lemon to talk first due to reasons.
Well, I suppose that it's good that she had reasons. I wouldn't want to think that Lyra was just sitting there staring at Lemon like a mental patient for no reason at all.

>”Great! It will be a lot of fun. I will be near the beach and from what I have heard the pegasuses there are going to clear the sky for the next week.
"Pegasi" is the plural of Pegasus.

>The way Lemon blather on just cemented the idea that this was important to her in Lyra's head. Lyra had noticed that Lemon hadn't noticed that she had started to follow the path Lyra was taking not that she wanted to get away from her. It was just funny to see someone so encapsulated by an idea that she didn't notice what was happening around her. Her body language made her seem almost giddy in enthusiasm the way she skipped forth to emphasize certain things she said.
There are probably several thousand better ways to express what is happening here. Basically, Lemon is talking, and getting so excited about what she's talking about that she stops paying attention to her surroundings and just follows where Lyra is going. Lyra finds this endearing. Take that concept, put it into better words. Sorry, ordinarily I'd try to come up with some kind of example but I've been at this all day and I'm a little tapped out at this point. Try to write words and stuff more goodly, is my advice here.

Alright, so anyway, final verdict:

I was a little meh about Chapter 1, but after reading Chapter 2 I'll admit you've got me hooked. What seems to be shaping up as a romance story between teenage Lyra Heartstrings and a human war hero who likes to disembowel ponies for some unexplained reason has a lot of potential for wacky misunderstandings and generally zany adventures. I like the high school angle, where we get to see different ponies whose adult versions we're already familiar with interacting as students. This has a lot of potential and I could see it going places. I'd read more of this if you wrote more.

That said, I'm afraid it suffers from the same problems as the Waste story, in that the mechanics are a bit clunky and your actual writing could use some polish. I'm going to go ahead and give this a 7/10 because I enjoyed it, but it will need quite a bit of work before it's passable as actual literature.

Final Score: 7/10

Alright, so, I have just spent about 16 hours straight reading and analyzing amateur pony and/or video game fiction and I am officially exhausted. This was a fun exercise and I would happily do this again. Here are some final parting thoughts before I go.

Placeholder (AFT)
You have earned my respect. Greentext is not always the best indicator of a person's abilities, but nonetheless I think you write well and have a good sense of how to construct a story. Nice work.

Dusker
You have earned my awe and fear. The world shall one day tremble as your inarticulate, nonsensical pony prose awakens mighty Cthulu from his slumber in the briny deep.

Placeholder (FORE)
Waste
Sven
Your stories are a little clumsily written, but I think you've all got good foundations that could be spun into quality narratives. Flesh out your ideas some more, maybe get finished first drafts ready, and I would be willing to extensively workshop them at some point if you all would like.

King Battlebrit
You are the savior of Western Civilization. Keep on shitposting.

Alright, that is quite enough reading and thinking for one day. I am off to go watch some mindless television filled with Jewish subliminal messages.

>>201077
Yeah, so I get home and then I am too tired to do anything. Tomorrow, I will have time to write this. If I don't do it, then it is only because I am being lazy.

>>200951
>>200988
Thanks for the good advice and the comedic critique, and the universe this is all set in is Warhammer 40K in case you want to learn more and see just how trash my story is.

I love that you poured so much energy into this Glimglam, puts me to shame. 16 hours straight is something I would have expected from Silver Star, not a real person. Your posts are hilarious and insightful and if I ever organize this kind of event again, I know who to call. >This was a fun exercise and I would happily do this again. Glad to hear it.

While it makes me cringe internally because I feel like a goddamn corrupt politician that got his ass to Congress through false promises and now is holding a formal obligatory thank you speech, I like to thank everyone who participated in this contest. It wouldn't have been the same without you. I mean it. I read all the stuff. It was very nice. I don't really have anything to add to your stories that haven't already been mentioned though.

Also, Leafy mah nigga. You don't need to feel pressured and stressed to post a review here. The winner is already decided based on the fact that no matter what you give any other anon on this thread for score they cannot even reach the score of Placeholder The in-official winner for any other lurker who has missed this.. I do want your perspective though, don't get me wrong. I thought your posts were very educational and enjoyable but if you don't feel like doing it or have other things on your plate, then it's cool. Take your time and/or take care.
Lol, this is what I was going to say but then a thought hit me: ”Could he be there?” *Checks.* Yeah, he is. Being talented at writting.->Puts that talented into making horse-porn. Great. Solid choice! ;)

>>201633
Lol, assumed that she smiled in the pic but instead she is peved.

>>200729
Thank you for your feedback!
I often get something like "needs proofread" or something like that.
The odd thing is I have always been at least above average in languages but lately it seems like I start to my lingual skills even when I try hard to avoid it.

4/10 is nothing to be happy about but it is a start

I have a selfish request. Would you be so kind to show 1-2 examples of my fuckups so I can learn from my mistakes?