Ceramic DM - Spring 2005 (Late Bloomer) - We have a winner.

Yea! We have our first match stories all posted. For those of you that are new, the Judges will now read the stories and determine which one we like the best. That auther will then advance to the next round.

I have updated the menu links in the first post. I am trying out the [post] tags. do me a favor and click on the links for the first match. It should open into a new browser to the specific story in thread. Then if you click on the pictures link for match 2, it will open only that post in another window. You will not be able to directly access the rest of the thread.

See which method you like better. The [post] tags are shorter and open the rest of the thread at the same time. Depending on preferences, I might migrate to those.

I liked the one better where the whole threads are intact.

Jibber Jabber

Hooray! Stories are up. I read Hellefire's this morning and I see his two opponents are done as well. I know I won't be able to read and comment on every story because we are still moving and I am trying not to make it an ultra sucky summer for our kids, but I know BSF is looking forward to people's comments, so I thought I would start it. Of course, he can't read this until his judgement is posted, mwu ha ha! In case I don't get the spoiler right, the rest of this post is about Hellefire's story, so judges, please read no further.

[sblock] Hellefire, to say I enjoyed your story is not quite right because it ends so sadly, but I have not figured out a good adjective to describe how I felt reading it. I was pulled along throughout. I thought you did a good job with the female perspective. I had a problem with the friend leaving Jem so early. I know it was a love at first sight moment, but just leaving a best friend alone in the forest with a strange man no matter how they were looking at each other seemed like a really bad idea. The scenes with the fairies were paralleled so well with the human scenes, except in the fairy scenes the friends stayed until the couple began their journey. Why did you not let Jem's friend stay longer? I also found it odd that Jem was so afraid of bears, but she was ready to go on a shroom trip with a total stranger. I thought with you writing about her being afraid of bears, you were going to do something about her letting go of her fears, but instead it just seemed like a random feeling she had in the story. I really enjoyed the sunset scene, and I thought your wording when they were in the car with the rain coming down was lovely. It is possibly my own problem, but I was a little confused by where the water elementals were located. When Jem and Jim were swimming, I thought the water elementals were in the lake, so it took me awhile to figure out they were in a cloud. You might look at that, but as I said, it might be my own reading comprehension problem. Good story over all. I've thought about it on and off all day, which, to me, is a sign of a good story. Thanks for sharing it. [/sblock]

Eeralai! Good to see you, and missing you in this cdm. I very much enjoyed reading your work last time. Thanks for the comments, and will reply to them after judgements are posted I think . Hope all is good with your move and your kids!

Aaron

Stories received and read, Im now stewing on judgement

Whew - I meant to post a follow-up earlier but had to leave before I could spend the time to read my opponent's tales. I'm starting that now.

In the Clear: I found the pictures for this match a very natural lead-in to some creative story writing, vague in the right places while tough to reconcile.

Now let me take a look at what else was found in them...

Ceramic DM Spring 2005 (Late Bloomer)
Round 1, Match 2: BigTom vs. Bibliophile vs. Berandor

Disillusionment

»Close the blinds, please.«

»Of course.«

While her employer did as she had bidden, Cassie took a look at her surroundings. She always felt uneasy in hospital rooms. They were so antiseptic, so clean, so devoid of color and life. The beeping, blubbering and wheezing machines keeping their patient alive didn’t help, either.

Cassie regarded the young woman lying in the bed. She was twenty-three, Cassie knew, but she looked at once like an old woman and a child. Her skin hung unto her like a dress two sizes too big, her shrunken face surrounded by a halo of golden hair. Cassie might have mistaken her for dead if not for her eyelids. They were fluttering constantly.

»This is her,« Hoffer said. »Sharon, my wife.«

Cassie ignored the obviousness of the statement as she turned to him. »She’s beautiful.«

»Yes.« He stroked Sharon’s cheek. »Can you save her?«

»Mr. Hoffer-«

«Timothy, please,« he interjected.

»Timothy, as I’ve told you before, there is no guarantee.«

»But now that you’ve seen her, what do you think? Can you save her?«

»I’ll try my very best,« Cassie answered. Timothy didn’t seem satisfied, but he let it go. »How much time do we have?«

»Four hours, maybe five,« he said. »I’ve told the nurse I wanted to say goodbye, and gave her a little money. She’ll leave us alone until the morning shift arrives.«

»That’s not very long.«

»It’s as long and we’ll get. Tomorrow’s the day.«

The day. It was the day when the hospital staff, empowered by a new law, would shut off the machines keeping Sharon Hoffer’s body alive. After three years of coma following a car accident, the doctors had declared her brain dead, and her insurance had stopped paying for her continued treatment. Cassie knew they were probably right, too. Only a small percentage of coma patients with no detectable brain functions were still alive; most had departed to the spirit world.

Noticing that the windows couldn’t be opened, Cassie took a portable fan from her bag and plugged it in, and then aimed it at the bed. She also retrieved a mobile from the bag, ten paper cut-outs hanging from silk rope. Using a small hook she had brought, Cassie hung the mobile above the bed, the cut-outs dancing in the fan’s breeze. Traditional medicine had failed; Cassie had come to apply sorcery to wake up Sharon Hoffer. That’s what witches did, after all.

»I’m ready,« she announced. »Timothy, you must not touch me, or Sharon, while I am gone. It is imperative, in fact, that nobody touches either of us. That would instantly break the spell I am going to cast.«

Timothy nodded.

»Alright. Do you have anything to say before we begin?«

»Yes.« He leaned forward and caught Cassie’s gaze. His eyes burned with intensity. »Miss Morgan, I don’t believe in magic. I don’t believe one word of what you told me you would do. I think you’re just after my money – what’s left of it, anyway. But I don’t care. I’ve tried everything else, and time is running out. So do your spiel. I will do as you say. But bring back my wife.«

Cassie held his gaze for a moment and opened her mind, letting his desperation waft over her. She embraced the strength of it, siphoned it off, shutting it away for later use just as she shut Timothy out of her mind again. He blinked in confusion, sure something had happened but unsure of what, and then regarded Cassie with new doubts.

»Let us begin,« she said.

-

After a prayer to Zephyr, the west wind, Cassie had invoked the soul-joining spell. It had worked, so Sharon’s soul had not yet departed. Cassie transported herself into Sharon’s mindscape. That was the good news. The bad news was, Cassie had no magic. Every mindscape had different rules, and a traveler had to accept these rules in order to effect change. Sharon’s mindscape did not allow magic, at least not the kind Cassie used. Not even a simple light spell worked. And Sharon’s mindscape was dark.

When the spell had taken effect, Cassie had found herself in this darkness, unable to see her hand before her eyes. A little feeling around, and Cassie knew she was in a narrow corridor with smooth walls – probably bricks, since she felt the mortar between the stones – and a similarly smooth floor. The air was calm, and smelled faintly of acid. Lacking options, she’d started walking. Drift in the breeze, no matter where it blows, her mother always said.

In the darkness, thoughts came unbidden. Her mother would be ashamed to hear that at twenty-seven, Cassie still lived in San Francisco and cast soul-joining spells. This was no work for an accomplished wind witch, she would have said. To her mother, a wind witch could not allow herself to feel compassion, for when the wind called, she had to leave everything behind. Cassie had never moved with the wind. She heard Zephyr’s call, but she resisted it. There were too many people needing her help.

Her mother had warned her. »A storm will come«, she’d said. »And if you don’t let yourself be carried on its wings, it will crush you.« That had been seven years ago, when Cassie last saw her. Breathing deeply, Cassie exhaled these thoughts from her mind. This was not the place for doubts. She had to help Sharon.

After a while, Cassie began to notice a faint sound in the distance. It was best described as a rhythmic fwump every five seconds. As she walked on, the sound grew louder, until suddenly she stood in a gymnasium. A blonde girl was jumping on a trampoline, each jump accompanied by an elastic fwump. The girl wore a tight suit with a flame stitched onto its breast. Her eyes had sunk into her head, dark shadows beneath. The air smelled of sweat and fear.

Cassie took a step forward, and then froze. Her body felt different than before. Looking down, she saw why. Her body had become that of a young man in dark clothes; scratching her chin she even noticed the beginnings of a beard. Cassie shrugged. She might not always heed the wind, but she had learned to accept its fickle blows. She approached the girl.

»Hi.«

The girl looked at her, but kept on jumping. Fwump. »I am so tired,« she said.

»Then why don’t you stop jumping?«

»I can’t,« she pleaded. Fwump.

»It’s not hard. Just use your legs to counter the trampoline.«

»No, I can’t,« the girl repeated. »If I stop jumping, I will catch fire.«

Cassie looked more closely. Indeed, every time the girl slowed down at the top of her jump, her features blurred as if emanating heat. Her hair looked close to burning.

»Sharon?« Cassie asked. Fwump.

»How do you know my name?«

»I’m here to save you.«

»Are you a knight?«

Cassie smiled, thinking of her change in appearance. »Yes, I suppose I am.«

»Then you need a sword.« Suddenly, a heavy sword hung at Cassie’s hip. »That’s better.« Fwump.

»Thank you,« Cassie said with a bow. »Do you have an idea how I can save you?«

»Just follow the garden until you reach a cave. You will find the monster there.«

»The garden?« Cassie turned around, only to discover plants all around her. As she turned back, the gymnasium was gone, and with it, the trampoline and the girl. Cassie faced where Sharon had been, and held her sword forward in mock salute.

»I will save you, Sharon. By gust and gale, I will.«

-

As Cassie walked through the garden, following a narrow pathway, grass, dry as tinder, crunched under her feet. The garden was dying. The plants looked healthy, but when Cassie touched them, they proved as brittle as old paper. Every few steps the ground trembled softly. It wasn’t a real earthquake, but Cassie found it distracting, nonetheless. Furthermore, there was no wind, not even a slight breeze in the air. It was almost as if time had stopped around here.

The path led Cassie to a wide river. An ornamental stone bridge arched over it. A sign said, »River of Tears. Do not drink.«

Cassie knelt at the shore and dipped her finger into the water. It was cold, and felt refreshing under the suddenly hot sun. She tasted the finger. Salty.

»Are these your tears, Sharon?« Cassie wondered aloud. »You won’t have to cry much longer.«

Behind the bridge, the mindscape changed drastically. After a few steps, Cassie was in the middle of a rocky desert, and the dying garden seemed infinitely far away. The sun stood high in the sky, with not a cloud around providing cover. No wind, either. The tremors had increased in strength, their rhythm reminding Cassie of the trampoline.

After a while, Cassie saw two figures in the distance, about as tall as a human. As she approached them, they turned out to be tall sunflowers.

»Damn,« she said.

»What kind of greeting is that supposed to be?« one of the flowers said – the left one.

»Not a kind one, that’s for sure,« the right one replied.

»You can talk!«

The flowers regarded her for a moment, and then turned to each other. »Do you think she’s stupid?« the left one asked.

»Maybe she’s just been out in the sun for too long,« the right one answered.

»Ah. Of course.« They turned back to her. »Yes. We can talk. I am Pete, and this here is Oscar,« the left one explained.

»Then maybe you can help me,« Cassie said. »Wait – how do you know I’m a woman?«

»Oh please!« Pete, the sunflower, said. »What do you take us for? Lilies?«

»Violets?« Oscar added.

»Sunflowers?« Cassie ventured.

»That’s right, « Pete said, as if that would explain everything. »We’re sunflowers.«

»Just follow the breeze,« Cassie muttered under her breath. »So… can you help me? I’m looking for a cave.«

»That depends. Will you help us in return?«

»Help you? How?«

»Oscar here wants to leave the garden. I don’t want to, though, I think there was a reason why we were put here, and it’s not up to us to leave, even if the other flowers disagreed. They’re not sunflowers, after all, so what do they know? «

»Look, Pete,« Oscar said, »I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I will leave the garden, and if you don’t want to come with me, I’ll leave you, as well.«

»Now you see our problem, don’t you?« Pete asked.

»I’m not sure,« Cassie said. »What’s this about a garden again?«

»Too long in the sun,« Pete said. »You were right, Oscar.«

»How is she supposed to know? Does it look like a garden to you?«

»Hmm. Maybe you’re right.« Pete tilted its head slightly. »This is the Garden of Color. Once, it was full of flowers. All kinds of flowers – even orchids, and you know how they can be. Or maybe you don’t. Anyway, some time ago, the earthquakes started. The clouds left with the wind, never to return. The ground dried up, and any water a plant could draw was salty, useless. At first, we thought it was temporary, but it wasn’t. When Harriett died-«

»She was a rose hip,« Oscar explained.

»When Harriett died, all the other flowers got scared. So they left.«

»And we should have left, too,« Oscar insisted.

»How did you survive here?« Cassie asked.

»How often do I have to repeat myself? We’re sunflowers. We find a way.«

»We’re on a diet,« Oscar admitted. »We were much taller once.«

»Still,« Pete said. »I don’t feel good leaving the garden behind. It’s as if as soon as we are gone, it will cease to exist. I know it’s silly, but-«

»It’s not,« Cassie said.

»What?« both flowers said in unison.

»It’s not silly. You’re probably right. You must stay. You must keep the garden alive.«

»See?« Pete said triumphantly.

»Now you’re listening to a human! That’s it. I’m leaving.« Oscar pulled its roots out of the rocky ground, and walked away. After a few steps, the sunflower began to shimmer in the air, and then disappeared as if it never existed.

»Well,« Pete said, »looks like I’m the only one left.«

»They will come back,« Cassie said.

»Do you think Sharon will come back, too?«

»Sharon?«

»That’s what I said: Sharon,« Pete said impatiently, but then its voice lost its edge. »You know, she came to visit us. She danced among us, or just sat down and listened to us. I miss her.«

»I’m here to help Sharon. I hope that I can bring her back, yes. But I need your help. I’m looking for a cave.«

»Yes, I know of it. It is not a good place.«

»I still need to get there.«

»It’s a few hills over. Just follow the sun.«

Cassie looked up. The sun had begun to set. »Thank you,« she said, and turned what seemed to be west, following the sun.

»You know what’s strange?« Pete said after Cassie had left. »There’s never been a sunset in the garden before.« And then the sunflower shuddered, feeling the chill of the night to come.

-

The sun touched the horizon when Cassie finally came to a hill. The ground shook again, and this time she was almost knocked prone. Another tremor shook the earth, and another. Cassie no longer doubted what caused them. She imagined a distant fwump with each quake. The hill was too steep to climb, but a wooden ladder led up to a cave, some fifty feet above her. The ladder didn’t look very stable.

She had climbed the first rungs when the next tremor came. Cassie lost her grip. She fell to the side, and then slid down the hill. Another tremor greeted her as she reached the bottom.

»Tornado’s eye!« she cursed. If that happened when she was further up, she’d hurt herself. Maybe she died. She’d heard of witches who died in a mindscape. It wasn’t pretty. She had to be more careful.

Luckily, her male body proved far stronger and fitter than her own would have been. She’d managed to climb half the distance when another tremor knocked her about. Again she fell to the side, but this time she kept her grip, dangling from the ladder thirty feet above ground.

»Sharon!« she screamed. Five seconds later, the ground shook again. And again. Cassie bit her lip. It was a last resort. Tasting her blood weakened the soul-joining spell enough so she could reach into her real-world body for a short time without leaving the mindscape. She closed her eyes and smelled antiseptics. A faint breeze wafted over her.
In the hospital, Cassie mumbled a spell and freed the desperation she’d siphoned off Timothy. In the mindscape, Cassie felt new strength flooding through her. Grunting, she swung herself back on the ladder, and began to climb. The tremors grew even worse; each time, the ladder danced on the hillside like a drunken puppet. But Cassie climbed on. Filled with Timothy’s desire to see Sharon live, nothing could stop her. But she felt his strength receding already. Cassie grimaced and climbed on, step after step, rung after rung. As she reached the cave, another tremor knocked the ladder from under her feet. Cassie grabbed the edge of the cave and held on. With a last effort, she pulled herself up and into the darkness of the cave, just as Timothy’s strength left her.

-

Cassie lay in the cave entrance, catching her breath. The cave was dark, but light from the desert outside illuminated brick walls and a smooth floor. The tremors were gone; at least, they didn’t carry into the cave. Peering into the darkness, Cassie thought she made out movement. She stood up, and drew her sword. The blade glowed faintly in the dark, and Cassie looked into a distorted mirror image of herself. The image shuddered, and inched closer. It was a huge blob of jelly, the smell of acid preceding it. It filled the whole corridor side to side, but only reached half as high as the ceiling. Still, it was almost as tall as Cassie, and too high to jump.

»I am a knight,« Cassie reminded herself, and swung her sword. The blade cut the blob like air, and now Cassie was looking at two separate mirror images. The blob inched forward. Cassie took a step back. Behind her, the cave opened to the hillside, and the ladder was gone. She had to defeat this thing! Again, she cut, and again. Her sword danced through the air, tearing into the blob.

It was useless. Cassie looked into a dozen distorted mirror images, and she saw the desperation in her own eyes. All that was left to do was to decide between falling down the hillside or getting eaten by amorphous jelly. The blob inched forward. In the distance, Cassie heard a faint fwump.

She had an idea. She took the sword and rammed it knee-high into the sidewall. Then, she took another step back – her heels touched the edge of the cave. The blob inched forward. Cassie waited. The blob inched forward again, touching the sword hilt and starting to dissolve it. Now!

Cassie stepped on the flat of the blade, and then jumped as high and far as she could. She flew through the air, felt her hands brush against the jelly, then her knees, and then she was past.

She came down hard, but instead of wallowing in her pain, she stood right up again. The blob had stopped, and began to inch towards her again. But it was too slow. Cassie’s hands hurt like they were on fire, but she laughed despite the pain. The way was clear. In the distance she heard another fwump, and she started walking.

-

Suddenly she was back in the gym. Sharon was still jumping on the trampoline. She looked even more tired than before, and the jumps were higher, too. Cassie approached her.

»Hello, Sharon.«

»Did you defeat the monster?«

»Not yet.«

»But you said you wanted to save me.«

»And I will. Stop jumping.«

»I can’t. I will burn.«

»No, you won’t. It’s the jump that heats you up, and the higher you jump, the closer to burning you get.« Cassie looked at the girl, and saw her suspicion was correct. Since her jumps had become higher, the blur around her had intensified, as well. Now, her hair already started to smoke when she reached the top. Cassie noticed the ‘No Smoking’ sign on the wall in the back, and chuckled dryly at the irony.

»You’re wrong! If I stop jumping, I will die!«

»No. Stop jumping, and you will live. You know it, Sharon. You sent me to fight a monster in a cave, but in the cave, I found you. There is nothing keeping you here, except for yourself. Stop jumping.«

»I… I’m afraid.«

Cassie smiled, and spread her arms. »I am here. Come on, jump towards me. I will catch you.«

»Are you sure I’m not gonna burn?«

»Yes. Come now. I will catch you, Sha-«

»Get her away, at once!« Cassie felt herself yanked backwards. She was back in the hospital. A burly man held her tight, and a team of doctors and nurses swarmed about Sharon’s still body, inspecting her. In the corner of the room stood Timothy, tears running down his face.

»No,« Cassie said. She had been so close. »No!«

A doctor looked up at the mobile hanging from the ceiling. He ripped it off and threw it to the ground. The fan had already been disconnected. Sharon lay like dead, her chest rising only by the will of the machines. Her eyes had stopped to flutter.

»Mr. Hoffer«, the doctor said, having Cassie already forgotten, »I am very disappointed with you. I don’t know what you did here, but make no mistake: I will report you to the authorities.«

»I wanted to save her.«

»It’s too late for that, Mr. Hoffer. It has been too late for some time now. Nurse Walker, prepare to unplug the system.«

»No!« Cassie shouted again. »She’s alive! Please…«

The doctor looked at her. »Warden,« he said, »didn’t I tell you to get her out? Do it. Now!«

The warden pulled Cassie towards the door. She didn’t resist, but looked at Timothy. »I’m sorry,« she said, but he didn’t listen. He stood motionless, looking at his wife. Cassie turned to take a final look at Sharon, too. She saw her fingers move. Ever so slowly, Sharon’s hands began to close.

»She’s waking up!« Cassie shouted, as the warden pulled her out of the door. Now she started to resist, but to no avail. He was too strong for her. »Please, her hand! Look at her hand!« she screamed. She heard no answer, only the constant beeping of the heart monitor.

»Nurse Walker,« the doctor said. »Now.«

A long, sustained beep followed, and then – nothing.

I know that as soon as I read my story again, I will notice a typo, but that's the way it is... And indeed, just now I remember something I wanted to change but didn't.

Fun!

I'm happy with the story nonetheless, I hope you're at least somewhat entertained. Now to read the other entries!

Hellefire's Judgements - Round 1

As I did last time, I'm going to do my own story critiques and judgements as we go along. Of course, last time I didn't have such a good track record of agreeing with the actual judges. I ended up joking about my kiss of doom. If I voted for you, the judges didn't. But, let's see how this one pans out .

My picture use levels (explanations to come as I further define them):
abysmal(0) - terrible(1) - very bad(2) - bad(3) - poor(4) - below average(5) - average(6) - above average(7) - good(8) - very good(9) - great(10) - excellent(11) - outstanding(12)

Hellefire vs Speaker vs FireLance:
[sblock]The Trip (by Hellefire) - Critiquing myself is very, very hard for me to do, but I will try (using some of Eeralai's commentary to help). Re-reading my story, I found one technical typo. I liek the story itself, how it builds on itself, though it is a little vague in points. Jem's fear of bears could/should have been expanded on later, but wasn't. Her best friend DID take off pretty fast (I had added some more, but for some reason thought the our word limit was 4000 and posted before I checked again...oops). I wanted to add another sentence or two talking about the water elementals ability to shapeshift into beings whos bodies they had passed through. I think I made that fairly clear, but I'm not sure. I was trying to instill the idea that elementals reside in all places (water in lake and rain, etc, fire in campfire and cigarette, etc) but maybe it was a bit confusing where the water elementals were. All-in-all, a good story, that maybe I should have used the extra day before posting time to revise a touch. Picture use - woman: very good(9), lake: very good(9), fire: great(10), tiger: average(6). Total: 34. Average: 8.5 (good-very good). Author's note: If I made one person look into their burning cigarette or a campfire, or into water or rain, and wonder, then I did my job.

The Lady for the Tiger (by Speaker) - Four or five technical typos. A very good, esoterical story. Took a little bit to get into it but the chase was a great piece of writing. The fire-to-chase intensity connection was very well done. I guess losing the woman as a woman was sad, but I was a little confused about that point (the sadness), or did that come fom the tiger dying? It seemed to be about witnessing the death of the last Bengal, whcih wasn't really the last because it was resurrected in the woman, I guess? Though, unless she was pregnant, it wouldn't revitalize the species anyway. And I was confused about why they just faded away at the end. Where did they go? I type a lot of criticisms, but really I liked the story a LOT. Picture use - woman: very good(9), lake: average(6), fire: great(10), tiger: great(10). Total: 35. Average: 8.75 (good-very good*2).

Judgement (by FireLance) - I didn't see any technical typos (kudos). The story was short and direct. I didn't mind this so much, it was well written and flowed well in general. It was a little, hm, abrupt I guess. I had a little problem with the cave of Judgement thing. You are judging yourself? While I appreciate this, and it applies to my feelings of life in general, most people don't so something if they think it is wrong. If they decide it is wrong, they feel bad, and hopefully try to make amends. So the cave of judgement just boiled down to a time-out to think about it. And, the villagers were very upset with him, but then would accept him to live among them if he chose. It seems they would either be angry, or understanding, but it seemed to jump from one to the other immediately. I liked the change from bad day to good day. I liked the lake and fresh beginning for his people and melting snow. It was a good story, but I think it should have been a little more fleshed out. Picture use - woman: very good(9), lake: good(8), fire: good(8), tiger: excellent(11). Average: 9 (very good).


My judgement - FireLance had the best use of pictures, but I think his story needs a little more work. Speaker had slightly better use of pictures than I did, but more typos, and left me confused about more things (then again I wrote mine ). I can't be objective about mine but I'll give it to you anyway: my vote is for Hellefire 2-1-1.[/sblock]

Berandor vs BigTom vs Bibliophile:
[sblock]Disillusionment (by Berandor) - I saw a couple technical typos. Part of me says hey, that's understandable, English is your second language. But, I think I am going to hold you to the same standards as everyone else. Partly because it was such a great story. It really was. Though, you call *me* cruel. The ended surprised me. I really expected a happy ending. That gives it more strength in a way - I don't like predictable stories much. I was pretty gripped throughout. Reminded me a bit of that J-Lo movie, can't remember the name right now. When she was inside people's heads. Great imagery. The monster thing was a bit weak, and it's resolution didn't explain to me how she figured out that the child was doing it to herself. I liked all the references to the wind witch thing, though you mentioned that her mother would have been disappointed then left that lead not going anywhere. Also, she tasted the water/tears which said Do Not Drink, and nothing happened. I thought the sign was a pretty good indication that something would happen. Her weakening at the end might have been a result of that, but I might just be reaching to explain things to myself.
also, why did s/he hld the sword in mock salute? It being a serious situation, I would expect it to be in real salute. Also, I was a little bothered at the beginning that the husband asked her if she could save his wife, and was concerned about her answers, then flat-out told her that he didn't think she could anyway, as if he never thought she could. I wasn't sure why he would question her so much when his mind was already made up about her anyway. A great story; I can't find much to criticize. Glad it wasn't against me this round . Picture use: bubbles: good(8), knight: good(8), ladder: good(8), girl: great(10). Total: 34. Average: 8.5 (good-very good).[/sblock]

Aaron

So... the other stories.

First off, does anybody else think the contrast of the dark grey background and the black cursor in the default style is a little low? When editing my story, I could hardly see where the cursor was. I'm writing this in stealth mode, which works far better

In order of posting, and please remember these are only my opinions and I am not an editor or teacher:
Hellefire, The Trip
[sblock]It's a dramatic story, I'll give you that. I enjoyed it for the symbolism, though I could have done with a little less insistance on change. In all three of your narratives, the characters say something like "We must change, change is good, change is everything." By the third time, it feld redundant.
Also, I'll have to echo Eeralai's comments regarding Sara. They're in the wilderness, and a man shows up, and she leaves her friend alone? And I was confused with the water elementals, too. Maybe it was on purpose, to have a surprise twist, and I buy it with the tobacco/smoke elementals, but for a moment I wondered how the water elementals had gone from lake to cloud so quick. Maybe switching the order of the inserts around (so water when sitting at the lake, and fire when swimming) would help?
Still, the narative drove me onward, and I had to see the conclusion. The final scene was excellent, I thought. Very nice.
The Pictures
I thought your pictures were used fine, but not spectacularly. In hindsight, I'm sot sure what the "woman" is supposed to show. Is it Jem in her funeral gown, and if so, are you saying that Jem is trapped in her dead body, aware of everything? That's cruel! The "sunset" was very nice, especially with the drugs enhancing the otherworldy beauty of nature (heh). "coal" was great, really a great picture use. The afterglow of their love-making, the focus on one spot, one detail - wonderful. On the other hand, I thought "tiger" was thrown in. A raindrop changes into a tiger, in a cloud, and then changes back again. I could see no reason behind it being a white tiger, other than it was a required pic. [/sblock]

Speaker, The Lady For The Tiger
[sblock]Up front, you've got quite a few small mistakes in the story: missing words, spelling errors, time shifts. I'd suggest one more read-through before posting, because when stories are of similar quality, these details will often make the difference (but generally not in the first round, so no worries ).
Also with regards to editing: You have a lot (and I mean a lot) of "now" and "then" in the story. I'd guess you can cut 80% of them and still keep the flow of events understandable while at the same time making your language stronger.
Your story is a strange beast, I must say. I'm still not clear on what the man and woman were doing by the fire, what importance the woman changing to a tiger had, and why the slain animal healed its wounds (yet nobody seemed to care about that). On the other hand, I was totally engrossed in the narrative of the hunt, captivated, so I'm not sure it's important the story made sense. It was a good read, nonetheless. Thanks!
The Pictures
The "tiger" was very well employed, I thought. We'd been in the animal's mindset for some time, and so at least I felt for it and hoped it would survive the fall and subsequent swim. The "woman" was alright, and you explained the net in front of her face as she changed to her animal form. However, without seeing the reason for her being a changeling, it's not that well explained, either. The "coal" was good, as well. The longer the man was in the tiger's mind, the more detailed the fire became, so getting to the coal was then a sign of utmost concentration. The "lake" at the end was fine; it gave me the sense of something greater that the characters had just been a part of, made the spell they cast more ritualistic.[/sblock]

FireLance, Judgement
[sblock]
A very short story. I was worried a little bit because the only real conflict was quickly over (right at the beginning, the fight against the snow-demon). But somehow, it worked, maybe even because of the lack of conflict. This story seemed to me more like a parabel, like a story told to a tribe's young ones to explain where the fire came from, than an actual event. You know, being responsible for the path we take, not resorting to hate - these moral lessons strewn in really made this into a campfire story for children to me.
Still, as a story, there *is* a lack of conflict. The oracle lets Thogar choose his own path, the villagers will gladly house him even after he tried to steal the flame, and when Thogar meets the Snow Demon again, he can turn his back to the cat and calmly search the shore, then run to the rocks without danger. As I said, though, that made the Snow Demon more into a symbol of cold, hunger and fear to me, than a real demon.
The Pictures
The "tiger" is the Snow Demon. I really liked that idea, even though the pic came so fast. I liked the pic so much I was hoping for a little more built-up Otherwise, it was fine, I think. The "lady", or oracle was also a nice use, since the pic does look mysterious, and the fact that her body is in shadow while her face is alight was a nice touch. The "coal" was the warding flame Thogar tried to take, and the heat opposing the Snow Demon fit thematically. Finally, the "lake" is where Thogar finds the coals of the Warding Flame, and where he changes the future of his tribe. It seems possible to find such mythical things at the shores of this lake, so well done, again. Competent picture use through-out.[/sblock]

So... nobody used the "coals" to make a fire elemental (or magma, or coal)? Come on!

Waiting for the next stories to come along, now.