Spring is spring,
the grass is ris,
I wonder where
the villianses is? *
* with apologies to Nash
It has been far too long since we had a challenge around here...
So, this being the first of the month, let's throw something out there and see what sticks.
This one is going to be kind of a casual challenge since we haven't done one in so long. There may be a prize, there may not, we'll see how many entries there are first before I commit to that.
Your challenge, should you choose to accept, is write a story based on the word "Spring" or "Sprung". You may use any definition of these words you see fit, as long as it's a recognized (ie: found in the dictionary) definition. It should have a "superheroic" or at least "Comic-bookish" style, but can be set in any era. Your story can be no less than 600 words, and no more than two posts worth of content (sorry I forget the exact length - I'll see if I can look it up, but it's pretty long). Content should be no more than PG-13 (ie: no gratuitous swearing, sex, or violence). Characters of your own creation are highly encouraged.
So far, I'm the only judge. If it looks like I'll need more, I'll see who I can find.
Your deadline is Sunday May 31st at 11:59pm, Central standard time.
If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask. I will be out of town this weekend, but I'll be sure to answer as soon as I get back.
Good luck and happy writing!
I missed these. Heh. I don't know if I have the time to write, but I'd love to judge!
Awesome!!!
I maybe working on this, I needed an outlet from stress.
Quote from: Gremlin on May 02, 2009, 02:04:43 AM
I missed these. Heh. I don't know if I have the time to write, but I'd love to judge!
Is it just me, or does it seem like more people would rather judge than write? ;)
I'm pretty sure I won't have anything to enter, but I might surprise myself and 'spring' one on you...
I'm gonna work on something. :) How long have these be happening?
Guess I was wrong... Here's my story...
"Spring Break-Out"
by BlueBard
Amphibi-Man shivered as he patted his mottled green skin with a moist
sponge. The cool breeze in his cell gave him a chill as it flowed across
his dampened skin. This was the part he hated most about being
incarcerated. He had to keep his skin moist, being part man and part
amphibian. For him, it was a matter of staying healthy. No real
choice there. That wasn't the problem, though. He'd gotten used to that.
It was the air-conditioning the prison used to keep him weak and slow
that he hated.
Amphibi-Man shrugged and tossed the sponge into the sink. He turned
to the small window and stared out morosely at the bright blue sky and
the greening of the trees in the distance. He actually didn't mind being
in prison during the winter. It was warmer in here, even with the A/C.
There were people to talk to, opportunities for exercise, and lots of
time to relax and catch up on his reading. He generally didn't do many
jobs during the winter months anyway.
"I should move south," he muttered to himself for the thousandth time.
He'd be right at home in Louisiana, with all that swampland. As long as
you didn't consider hurricane season a problem. In the end, no matter
how often he daydreamed about living somewhere south, this was his
home state and he loved it too much to move.
Amphibi-Man stared out at the beautiful spring day. Finally, he'd had
enough. He'd made his decision. Now it was time to make plans. He
continued to look out the window as he schemed, humming to himself.
"Born Free..."
###
Warden Kramer was reading reports at his desk, occasionally glancing out
his window to enjoy the view. It was the first really nice day of spring.
He sighed, wistfully thinking about the golf clubs sitting in his closet.
Suddenly a wailing siren startled him out of his reverie. Immediately his
phone rang.
"Warden Kramer," he answered coolly. "What's going on?"
"Sir, we've had an escape. Amphibi-Man is on the loose."
"How did that happen?" Kramer demanded.
"He was found lying on the floor of his cell. The guard reported that
he looked kind of dried out and seemed to have difficulty breathing."
"Go on. I assume he was taken to the infirmary?"
"Yes, sir. They put him on an examining table in restraints and then they
wet him down to try to rehydrate him. The orderly left him for a moment
to make a phone call to Doctor Konners. When he came back,
Amphibi-Man was gone. It looks like he managed to slip out of the
restraints. The alarm was sounded right away. We're looking for him,
but he hasn't turned up yet."
Warden Kramer closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a nascent headache
forming as he considered the news.
"Alright, Sergeant. Keep everything in lockdown. I want every inch of this
prison searched. Make sure all of the patrols have CO2 canisters to
subdue him if he's found."
"We'll find him, sir."
Warden Kramer hung up the phone and considered what he knew of the
supervillain. Inhumanly strong. Color-changing skin. The ability to cling
to nearly any surface. Powerful legs able to propel the amphibious criminal
several meters straight up.
"Somehow I doubt that, Sergeant," he murmured. He reached for his
rolodex and began thinking about the phone calls he was going to have
to make. He glanced out his window and then frowned in the direction of
the closet. Those clubs would have to wait.
###
Long before Warden Kramer reluctantly concluded Amphibi-Man was no
longer inside the prison walls or anywhere in the immediate vicinity,
the wily villain had indeed managed to escape.
Once outside the prison wall (that was the hard part, getting over the
razor wire without being spotted) he'd managed to hop in the back of a
passing garbage truck to get a little distance. Then he'd abandoned that
before someone thought to chase it down and swum underwater through a
deep irrigation ditch swelled with water from recent rains. It was
unbearably chilly, especially since he'd been running naked to take
advantage of his natural camoflage. It had nearly been cold enough to
shut him down. He'd kept going, spurred on by the thought of his
"spring break". He knew better than to keep to the water, though.
They would surely be looking for him in every lake, stream, ditch, and
puddle in the area.
His good luck continued after that. Amphibi-Man had taken to the woods,
where he'd found an unattended campsite. There was a blue minivan
parked nearby. A couple of minutes of searching had turned up a green
sweatshirt and sweatpants that barely fit him, along with a warm grey
stocking cap he pulled over his bald green skull. After a moment of
hesitation, he decided to take the minivan. If he was going to enjoy his
spring break instead of spending it in hiding, he needed more distance from
the prison.
Amphibi-Man cracked apart the ignition switch to get at the wires and got
the vehicle started right away. His time studying auto repair manuals
online in the prison library paid off in spades. He began humming to himself
again as he turned the minivan around and drove off.
"On The Road Again..."
###
"Glad you could come so quickly," Warden Kramer greeted the three
costumed individuals who filed into the conference room.
"Never should've been locked up here in the first place," grumbled the
fierce-looking man in the black-striped orange bodysuit as he flopped into
one of the seats. It was a testament to the hero's keen reflexes and
balance that the conference room chair didn't flip him onto the floor.
"I'm inclined to agree with you, Tigerman," Kramer replied diplomatically.
"But the courts had the final say there, so we do the best we can."
Kramer was referring to the federal court ruling that so-called super-prisons
were a violation of the rights of convicts who were not considered
dangerous enough to pose a risk to national security. The issue was
still being hotly debated several years later.
"I'm sure you do," said Psi-Lass as she gracefully took her seat. The slim
young redhead in purple spandex shot Tigerman an annoyed glance. The
orange-clad brawler merely scowled back.
The third figure remained standing out of consideration that his mass
would likely be too much for the flimsy seats. His red, white, and blue
uniform did not disguise his half-man, half-machine nature.
"I assume you invited us here because Tigerman was the last person to
capture Amphibi-Man," said Captain Cybertrooper coolly. His glowing blue
eyes betrayed no hint of emotion.
"That's right," Kramer replied, "I thought we could use his tracking abilities."
"Pfft," Tigerman scoffed. "By now your guards have messed up any trail
I could have found."
"Possibly," Kramer allowed. "But we've had our first break. A minivan was
reported stolen a few miles away from here. We're assuming the thief
was Amphibi-Man. We've got an all-points-bulletin out for the vehicle
now."
###
The vehicle under discussion was currently half-submerged in a wide river
and taking on water fast. Amphibi-Man gave the minivan a jaunty wave as
it sank under the rippling currents, then started walking toward the
interstate, humming.
"Saiilling... Take Me Away..."
###
"Very good, Warden," nodded Captain Cybertrooper. "Please let us know
as soon as you get word of the vehicle's location."
"Warden," Psi-Lass began thoughtfully, "You've had more experience with
him on a day-to-day basis than any of us. What do you think he'll do
now?"
Tigerman interrupted before Kramer could answer. "Aw, he's doing the
same thing they all do. He's gonna lay low and find a dark hole to hide in
while he plans his next big bank robbery or something. It's not like he's
gonna blend in with that ugly green hide of his."
###
Amphibi-Man crouched behind some bushes on a hilltop overlooking a large
city park. It was filled with men, women, and children out enjoying the
mild weather and and the warm sunshine.
"Perfect," he grinned widely. Then he glanced at the mottled green skin
on his hands.
"Hm. Better do something about that." Amphibi-Man stared at his hands
and concentrated. Slowly, the green coloration of his hands and face
faded until only a faint greenish tinge under his waxy complexion remained.
Now as long as he was careful to 'think pink' he could pass for caucasian.
It was amazing how useful color-changing skin could be for things besides
camoflage. It had taken him a while to come to that realization himself.
He hummed merrily as he strolled down the hillside toward the
unsuspecting parkgoers.
"Walkin' On Sunshine -- And Don't It Feel Good?!"
###
The CyberJet roared upward in a vertical takeoff from the prison helipad.
Soon the three heroes were streaking off in Amphibi-Man's last known
direction.
"Psi-Lass, are you getting any psychic impressions that might help us?"
asked the Captain.
"None," she answered glumly. "Normally these supervillains cause all sorts
of psychic turmoil I can pick up on, but it's like he's dropped off the face
of the earth." She paused. "Do you think we'll find him?"
"We'd better. There's no telling who he's about to terrorize."
###
Amphibi-Man watched the colorful kite as it swooped across the sky. A
blonde boy about ten years old was grinning nearby as he tugged on the
kite string. Amphibi-Man sidled closer to the boy.
"Hey, Kid!" he called out. The boy looked up, startled.
"Nice kite you got there. I haven't flown a kite in years. Mind if I try it?"
he grinned.
###
"Thanks for the update, Warden," Captain Cybertrooper spoke into his
headset. "Over and out."
"Well?" Tigerman grumbled impatiently as he squirmed uncomfortably in
his seat.
"The minivan was found submerged in the river. I'm changing vector.
Maybe you'll be able to track him from there."
"About time I got some action!" Tigerman grinned.
"Hold on!" Psi-Lass called out urgently. "I'm sensing something.."
"And?"
"I sense... he's chasing a young boy! Oh, we've got to find him quickly!"
she cried.
###
Amphibi-Man charged at the boy across the basketball court. He deftly
snatched away the basketball and dribbled to the hoop. Tensing his
powerful legs, he leaped upward, past the hoop, and lightly tossed the
ball in.
"Wow, Mister!" the boy exclaimed in admiration as Amphibi-Man dropped
to the blacktop and easily caught the basketball before it could bounce
away. "What a jump!"
"Ah, it was nothing," the disguised villain said. He tossed the ball back to
the boy.
"Nothing! Man, I bet even Kobe couldn't jump THAT high!" The boy
paused. "Would you --? Could you autograph my ball?"
"ME?" Amphibi-Man replied with surprise. "Huh. Sure, kid."
"Wait here! I gotta go get a pen from my Ma!" The boy raced off,
leaving the supervillain staring after him with a warm feeling inside.
"Sweet Georgia Brown..." he started humming.
###
"This way," Tigerman called gruffly as he led his partners to the top of
a small hill. "He came this way." The three of them looked down into the
park.
"I don't get it," Tigerman muttered in puzzlement as he watched the
people picnicking and playing below. "Where's the panic? There's
a big ugly green dude in the park. There oughtta be women screaming
and people scattering all over the place."
"Definitely odd," Captain Cybertrooper replied. He glanced westward
toward the setting sun. "It's getting dark. We'd better find him soon
before he hurts someone. Psi-Lass? Any new impressions?"
"Nothing. Wait." She paused, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Bright lights. He's under the bright lights."
Captain Cybertrooper pointed toward a baseball field in the distance.
"There are your bright lights. Let's go."
###
"Take Me Out To The Ballgame..." Amphibi-Man was humming aloud. Next
to him on the bleachers sat Jon, the boy he'd befriended.
Earlier, he'd completely forgotten to 'think pink'. But it didn't seem to
bother Jon. After the initial shock, the boy was even more excited to
get his autograph. He'd even signed it 'Amphibi-Man'. Jon assured
him that the ball would be worth quite a bit on eBay if he ever decided
to sell it.
'I should've thought of that myself,' he thought. 'A little extra income
never hurts.'
Down below on the ball diamond, the pitcher was winding up for his pitch.
He threw a fastball across the plate which the batter missed.
"I bet you've got a mean fastball," Jon said enthusiastically.
"Hm. Don't know. I've never tried it." Too bad supers weren't allowed
in pro sports. That paid quite a bit better than most of his schemes and
didn't involve doing time. Oh well.
"There he is!" a woman called out. The voice was familiar. Amphibi-Man
looked up. A man in a tiger suit leaped down the aisle to land nearby.
"Get away from the kid!" Tigerman growled as he assumed a combat
stance. Psi-Lass and Captain Whats-His-Name were rushing down the
steps. People around them were starting to notice the excitement.
Amphibi-Man held up his hands. "Take it easy, Tiger-Britches. I give up."
"Huh?" Tigerman and his partners looked surprised and confused.
"You're surrendering peacefully?" Captain Cybertrooper asked skeptically.
"Sure. Why not? It's been a great day but the night air's getting a bit
nippy. It'll be nice to slide into my nice warm bunk tonight."
Tigerman appeared flustered as he glanced at the Captain. "Can't I
punch him just once?"
"Don't you hurt my friend!" Jon shouted in protest.
"Don't worry," Psi-Lass reassured the boy. "I don't think there's any reason
for a fight." She shot Tigerman a pointed glare. "Is there?"
"Guess not," Tigerman grumbled.
Jon looked up at Amphibi-Man. "Do you really have to go?"
"Yeah," he answered. "It's time I was getting back. Thanks for keeping
me company, kid. Take care of yourself." He stood up and held out his
hands. "Let's go, then."
###
Much later, Amphibi-Man sat on the edge of his bunk back at the prison
and reflected on the day's events. 'What a great day!' he thought. He'd
enjoyed a little taste of freedom and even made a new friend. He
chuckled as he recalled the look on the heroes' faces when he surrendered.
"Definitely worth it," he told himself. "I gotta do that again sometime."
He thought about that for a moment. "Hm. It'll be summer pretty soon."
Amphibi-Man lay down on his bunk and stared at the ceiling while he
started making plans. As he did, he began humming absent-mindedly.
"Vacation, All I Ever Wanted... Vacation, Had To Get Away..."
"I feel so lonely -- I could cry..."
Come on, guys, I don't want to be the only person to submit a story! I like to read too, you know.
So, Encouragement...
I know there are lots of people out there with story ideas. This is a very creative community. A few minutes thought and surely you can come up with a list of one-liner concepts. A half hour of brainstorming and you can come up with a rough plot for your best concept. After that, it'll practically write itself.
As you can see from my story, it doesn't have to be long or deep. It doesn't even have to be all that clever. Again, just look at mine. ;) It just needs to make a little sense and have a little entertainment value. Depending on the story, even a little sense might be optional.
You can even stick with the "spring break" theme if you want. I won't mind and neither will the judge(s). Probably.
Imagine what you'd do on a nice spring day if you were a super hero/villain. Go on... Dooo Eeet!
Don't worry Bard... I have something coming this way.
RTT
Springing The Trap
by BlueBard
A.N.G.E.L. Surveillance File 74598
CONFIDENTIAL
Subject: UberMaster
--------------------
Analysts' Notes:
The attached transcript is from a wiretapping device which was secretly
planted on UberMaster's right hand-man, Heineford Rictor. Voiceprints of
the speakers match the following suspects: UberMaster, Heineford Rictor
(aka Sergeant-Major Rictor), Doctor Scorpio, and Scorpio's robot
assistant I.G.O.R.. Various unidentified voiceprints likely belong to minions
of either Scorpio or UberMaster. They have been generically labeled as
Lab Assistant or Henchman, respectively, with a number to indicate the
sequence in which they are recorded. For reasons which will be obvious,
no attempt to identify these minions will be made.
UberMaster's thick German accent is fake, but renders some of his speech
nearly unintelligible. The voice-to-text program that rendered the
transcript had considerable difficulty with it.
----------
Transcript:
----------
UberMaster: "Ah! Derriere, Sergeant-Major Rictor!"
Rictor: "Reporting as ordered, UberMaster!"
UberMaster: "Vat is door problem, Rictor?"
Rictor: "Begging your pardon, UberMaster, but the deathtrap
project is running behind schedule and over budget."
UberMaster: "Un who is re-spoon sybil fur dis?"
Rictor: "Well, it's really Doctor Scorpio's project, UberMaster.
I don't have all of the details."
UberMaster: "An vie not!?"
Rictor: "Um... It's his fault."
Henchman1: "Me?!"
[sound of gunshots]
UberMaster: "Hat takes care off hat. Lettuce goo see Herr Doctor
[untranslatable] un get see report."
[sounds of goosestepping down a hallway]
UberMaster: "Doctor [untranslatable]! I yam paying you vale to
build fur me a [untranslatable] deathtrap! Vie is it not
dune yet?!"
Scorpio: "Hmm? Oh, UberMaster! Yes. As I was telling one of
your underlings, I'd like to get your input on some of
these details."
UberMaster: "Which un ditch you tell?!"
Scorpio: "Oh, I don't know... They all look alike to me."
Rictor: "It was him."
Henchman2: "Me?!"
[sound of gunshots]
UberMaster: "Now vat ditch chew vat to know, Herr Doctor?"
Scorpio: "Eh? What did he say, I.G.O.R.?"
I.G.O.R.: "I believe he was asking what you wanted to know,
Doctor."
Scorpio: "Oh. Yes. And what was it I wanted to know?"
I.G.O.R.: "You were concerned about placements, mainly."
Scorpio: "Oh, that's right. UberMaster? If you would be so kind
as to follow me?"
UberMaster: "I follow no un! UberMaster vale lead every un!"
[pause]
UberMaster: "Which way?"
Scorpio: "Right this way."
Rictor: "Begging your pardon, UberMaster, but we ARE walking
into a deathtrap...?"
UberMaster: "Zen out da scouts den! Schnell!"
Rictor: "Right away, UberMaster! You and you. Out front."
Henchman3: "Uh, uh! No way!"
[sound of gunshots]
Rictor: "And you. Out front."
Henchman4: "Yes, Sergeant-Major Rictor!"
[sounds of multiple sets of footsteps]
[sounds of screams, echo and fade into the distance]
Scorpio: "And how do you like the Bottomless Pit?"
UberMaster: "Eh. Could be deeper."
Scorpio: "I.G.O.R.?"
[synthesized sigh]
I.G.O.R.: "I'll make a note of it, Doctor."
Rictor: "Two more scouts. Out front."
[muttering]
Rictor: "What was that?"
Henchman5: "Yes, Sergeant-Major Rictor!"
[sounds of gunshots]
UberMaster: "I can't stand a minion who vote shh-
peak up door forest time."
Rictor: "Two more. You know the drill."
Henchman6: "Yes, Sergeant-Major Rictor!"
[sounds of multiple sets of footsteps]
[deafening zap]
Scorpio: "A-Ha! There's the Lightning Ray! What do you think,
UberMaster?"
UberMaster: "It's pointing door wrong way."
Scorpio: "So it is! I.G.O.R., make a note of that."
[synthesized sigh]
I.G.O.R.: "Yes, Doctor."
Rictor: "We're out of henchmen, UberMaster."
Scorpio: "Oh, that's no problem. You can borrow some of my
lab assistants."
[sounds of screams and running]
Scorpio: "Now where did they all go to? No matter. The thing
I wanted to talk to you about is in the next chamber.
I haven't activated it yet, so there's no danger."
I.G.O.R.: "Unless of course you consider genetic damage from
residual radiation a problem, of course."
Scorpio: "I'm too old for children, so no problem at all. Right this
way, if you please?"
[pause]
Scorpio: "Isn't it spectacular? The ultimate in deathtrap
components!"
UberMaster: "Vat is it?"
Scorpio: "It's the Doctor Scorpio Antimatter Supercollider Bomb!
Patent pending."
UberMaster: "Vat doze it do?"
Scorpio: "I'm glad you asked! It's so nice when another super
villain takes an interest in one's hobbies. Anyway,
this device is rigged with sensors that detect motion,
sound, light, heat, cold, radiation, persperation,
cosmic rays, electricity, force fields, altered DNA, and
brainwaves. I'm working on a magic detector, but that
one's still in development."
UberMaster: "Impressive. Vat else?"
Scorpio: "Well. Once it detects an intruder, this device instantly
causes an anti-matter chain reaction that obliterates
this entire chamber!"
I.G.O.R.: "And the rest of the planet, if my calculations are
correct."
Scorpio: "You and your calculations. I keep telling you it's a
piece of pi."
UberMaster: "I dun one door planet destroyed. Not dis room ease or.
I just one door few soup or heroes obliterated."
Scorpio: "Oh. In that case, I may have some deathtraps over in
the lab that might interest you. This way, please."
Rictor: "Um. We don't have any minions left."
[pause]
UberMaster: "Your point is?"
Rictor: "Make that thing go first!"
[synthesized sigh]
I.G.O.R.: "Would that I could, Sir, but my self-preservation
programming prevents me."
Scorpio: "Oh, don't be silly, you two. There aren't any more
traps. Now come along."
UberMaster: "You goo forest, Sergeant-Major."
Rictor: "Y-yes, UberMaster."
[scream]
Scorpio: "Forgot that one!"
[screaming continues, transmission ends]
Quote from: RTTingle on May 16, 2009, 08:39:57 PM
Don't worry Bard... I have something coming this way.
RTT
That's cool, but now you're down by one ;)
A little over a week to go folks, and so far I've got Blue Bard and.... Blue Bard?
Dang I miss having a sig, I used to be able to promote this stuff using it ,but now... :(
Quote from: Glitch Girl on May 23, 2009, 11:48:18 PM
A little over a week to go folks, and so far I've got Blue Bard and.... Blue Bard?
Dang I miss having a sig, I used to be able to promote this stuff using it ,but now... :(
And thus I may earn the distinction of being the only fiction contest entrant to both win and lose in the same contest. :D
A week is left...
plenty of time.
;)
RTT
Ugh... I had hoped to submit something, but as it turns out I'm going away tomorrow and won't be back until Sunday... and then going away again on Monday*, so there's really no way I can get it done.
*For about a week, then I'll be back for a couple of days, then I'm going away again for a few days...
Quote from: Alaric on May 28, 2009, 05:21:06 AM
Ugh... I had hoped to submit something, but as it turns out I'm going away tomorrow and won't be back until Sunday... and then going away again on Monday*, so there's really no way I can get it done.
Der UberMaster in zits un com ants you mist post Z story oz soon oz you git beck! Schnell!
The King of Crime sat on his throne. His fingers drummed the armrest in agitation. He was bored. Jack was sleeping in the warm, spring sunlight flowing through window. "Lazy dog," he thought, half jealous of his companion. The Queen had left earlier in the day to go shopping. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the nickname the henchmen gave her, "The Queen of Credit Cards."
His henchmen, the Knights of Crime, stood at attention along the walls of his throne room. The Queen had designed their uniforms, which were skin-tight white body suits trimmed with gold, black boots, and red gloves. Each wore a gold domino mask that really didn't hide their features. They also carried a gold-plated ray gun in a shoulder holster. The ray guns were effective weapons, and he had sprung for the gold plating at the Queen's request. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It was ostentatious, anyway.
He pushed a blue button on his throne and waited. A side door slid open and a man in a rubber suit walked into the throne room to stand in front of the King. There was a certain spring in his stride that made the King snicker. "Why so proud?" he thought to himself, "you're dressed in a rubber suit." The man in the rubber suit bowed. "Yes, my leige?"
A smirked played across the King's face. He was a practical man, for the most part, and had trouble throwing himself into his "super-villain" persona. He felt like an actor in a play and the rest of the world was the audience. Even the Queen was beguiled by the myth they had created. Five years ago he was a mechanical engineer designing springs for dryers and she was a housewife volunteering at the animal shelter. A smile crept over his face as he remembered those simpler, perhaps happier times. Their lives changed when he created his first death ray. With a heavy sigh he looked down at the man in the rubber suit who was so obviously proud to be wearing it.
The King sprang to his feet, bringing everyone to attention, even Jack who had been in a deep sleep. The King surveyed the room, looking each man in the eye as if measuring his loyalty. Some of them began to sweat. The King raised his right hand into the air at shoulder height, palm outward This was his "royal decree" pose the Queen had recommended he use. "It commands attention," she had said. She was a liberal arts major in college, and he assumed she was probably right.
"Rubber Man," the King said, "I have a quest for you." The King was never quite sure if he should try to sound imperious or sinister when speaking to the henchmen. He tried to do both but succeeded at neither. He paused. What should he have the Rubber Man do? Nothing in particular sprang to mind. He looked down at the man in the rubber suit. He had no idea who was in there. He knew the suit afforded some type of resistance to bullets, but he had no idea if it did anything beyond that. It had to be hotter than hell in there.
The King reestablished his pose. "Rubber Man! I have learned that my hated enemy, the White Shield, and his loathsome companion, Whitey, Boy Detective, are planning to infiltrate the Castle of Crime."
"My Leige!" gasped the Rubber Man.
"Yes!" The King paused again. He let his gaze fall over each of the henchmen once again. They had all taken a pounding from the heroes throughout the last few years and were rather lackluster about facing the heroes again. Considering this, a plan sprang into the King's mind.
He looked down at the Rubber Man once again. "I have decided to bring the enemy to the the castle...to...learn why he wanted to infiltrate...the castle." He paused dramatically before proceeding. "The White Shield was last seen fighting Doctor Sonic in the state park north of town. I suspect he may have a connection to that area. Go there, draw him out of hiding, defeat him, and bring him to me. We must learn what his plans are, one way or another." He realized he needed to say something else, something that sounded majestic, something sinister. "The winter of my discontent is over, and the spring of my vengeance is at hand!" He raised his voice to a roar as he spoke, fist clenched, and the Knights and Rubber Man seemed to gain confidence by this. "Now go! Your King commands it!"
The Rubber Man and all the Knights marched out of the throne room leaving it empty except for the King and Jack. The King removed his crown and mask and started to laugh. Jack cocked his head at him and perked his ears, which made the King laugh even harder. "Oh, Jack," he laughed, "sometimes I just kill myself." After wiping the tears from his eyes, he left the room, calling Jack after him. "C'mon boy," he said, "let's go outside and enjoy a nice spring day."
Spring Ahead, Fall Back
By Viking
Alexander Devonshire clutched tightly at his book bag as he quickened his pace. He was short and of slight frame, and had to walk almost in double-time to keep up with the athletic student ahead of him. They crossed paths with no other students as they made their way down the austere hallway, for they were now in one of the restricted wings of Tower University. The only people granted access to these rooms were those directly involved in helping to test and hone the skills of the few metahumans in the student body.
"So Alex, how smooth should this contraption of yours ride?" called out the tall athlete, without even looking back.
"Smooth enough, Percy," answered Alex. "The movement of the vessel itself will be jerky, but the operator should be all right thanks to the stabilizing..."
"Guess I'll have to wait till I'm inside to know for sure," interrupted Percy without missing a stride.
Alexander seethed inwardly. It was his ingenuity that had led to the creation of the vessel in question – one powered entirely by clockwork springs and gears. He had discovered the process by which the stiffness of springs could be made malleable, allowing them to be tightly compressed with ease, while uncoiling with astounding force. He had designed the clockwork engine that would power the vessel, and received top honors when he presented it as his thesis project. And after enrolling in the postgraduate program, he had been put in charge of construction of the vessel based on his designs. But now, on its maiden voyage, this arrogant clodpole rugby player was to be its pilot.
Alex yearned to be the one behind the controls of his brainchild. But the source of his frustration ran deeper than mere feelings of possessiveness. Truth be told, he wanted to use it to personally pound his nemesis into the ground today. The man who, with a single sentence, had utterly humiliated him and reduced him to a laughingstock among Tower University's students.
"Leonard..." he hissed under his breath.
"Eager to see your contraption go up against the Lion, eh?" remarked Percy. "I just hope it's strong enough to last more than a minute against him. That lad has some serious skill!"
Alex adjusted his spectacles and glowered at the back of Percy's blond head. Still, he acknowledged a measure of truth in the statement. Leonard would be a formidable opponent. Transformed by unknown means into a seven-foot tall humanoid lion, Leonard possessed exceptional strength and speed, and skills honed through several escapades against superpowered enemies. Partnered with his sister, Elsie, they were the Lion and the Unicorn – England's foremost and publicly acknowledged superheroes.
Elsie... the mere thought of her still caused his pulse to race involuntarily. Alex frowned mightily, trying to shake off the traitorous emotions through sheer force of will. Yes, she was beautiful, stylish, and refined. He still remembered the day, over a year ago, when he had shyly approached her. He had offered her a miniature toy ballerina, powered by clockwork, which he had painstakingly designed to win her favor. His heart had practically jumped up into his throat when he had seen her delighted reaction...
But then that lummox brother of hers had strolled by, cutting in with that biting insult, and everything had fallen to pieces. Elsie had laughed at him. Laughed! Face reddened with shame, he had fled the scene. But word spread, and in mere days it seemed that all of Tower University was sniggering behind his back, taunting him with that... that profanity of Leonard's. Alex had become even more of a shut-in since then, throwing himself into his studies with a manic intensity.
It was, perhaps, a testament to his inventive skill that his vessel was to be tested today in such a dramatic fashion. Richard King the Third, the crippled yet astute Dean of Tower University, had felt that it would provide a suitable challenge to both Leonard and Elsie, working together. Under different circumstances, Alex would have felt honored. But all he could feel was a long-simmering rage over an unanswered insult.
"Here we are, then!" called out Percy, cheerfully. The square-jawed athlete opened the door into the training room, where Alex's masterpiece awaited.
The vessel lay in the center of the room, hidden by sheets and scaffolding. In the shadows of the dimly-lit training room, one could only make out its sizable bulk – nearly ten feet in diameter. Percy let out a low whistle as he flicked on some additional light switches.
"You weren't... compensating for anything when you designed this, old chum?" chuckled Percy.
"Ha ha," responded Alex without a trace of humor. He began rummaging through his book bag. "Now, if you'll just spare me a moment, I have something I want to show you that relates to the spring-mounted armaments on the vessel..."
"In a tic, Alex. I want to take a gander at this contraption up close!"
Percy sauntered up to the scaffolding and peeled back one of the sheets. "Coo!" he exclaimed as he looked within. "Now that's as strange as a..."
SPROING!
A large metal sphere thudded into the back of Percy's head, and he collapsed with a groan.
Alex looked at the spring-powered firearm that he had pulled from his book bag, and nodded in satisfaction. He then turned his attention to the unconscious athlete.
"Sorry, 'old chum.' But it's like they say – it's not the size of a man's machinery that matters. It's knowing how to use it that counts!"
Alex looked around the training room speculatively. There was work to be done before the other participants arrived.
*****************************************
Leonard strode down the hallway, humming a jaunty tune. He was wearing his full costume for today's exercise: a red coat emblazoned with a lion rampant in gold thread, dark blue pants, and a heavy belt bearing an assortment of heavy pistols, throwing knives, and other gear. His sister Elsie kept pace at his side, grinning at his good humor. Her current variation on her costume incorporated a white trench coat, with matching blouse, skirt and boots. She also wore a silver mask that covered the top of her face, to which a unicorn's horn was attached.
"You certainly seem to be in high spirits!" she observed amusedly.
"Naturally!" answered Leonard jovially. "Do you realize that this is our first official training exercise together?"
"As opposed to the first time I ran across you in the training room, and had to save you from that ambush?" inquired Elsie innocently.
"Er... yes," harrumphed Leonard. "Quite. Let's avoid a reenactment of that historic battle, shall we? I hate to think who would have to rescue us from our own impulsiveness if we can't handle today's exercise... Probably Nigel, with his heroic butlering and tailoring skills."
The image of the prim family butler dashing in to save the day caused Elsie to break out in peals of laughter.
"You... you are incorrigible, Leonard!" she exclaimed between bouts of mirth.
He flashed her a toothy smile. "Must run in the family, dear sister."
The pair continued a ways in companionable silence before Elsie made her next inquiry.
"So what surprise do you think they'll be springing on us today?" she asked.
"The instructors are all tight-lipped about it, but students can't help but gossip," responded Leonard. "Word is that Alexander Devonshire has designed some mechanical powerhouse for us to scrap with."
"Oh, that serious chap who loves tinkering with clockwork engines!" Elsie nodded with enthusiasm. "I do hope we can meet up with him when this is over. You never did offer him a proper apology for that misunderstanding last year. The poor fellow was horribly distraught."
"It was a slip of the tongue!" protested Leonard. "And I seem to recall that you found it quite hysterical at the time. Besides... Alex has been hard to pin down. Every time I've caught a glimpse of him, he turns and walks away hurriedly."
"He doesn't have the advantage of knowing you as well as I do," admitted Elsie. "At any rate, here's the training room. Let's finish the exercise first, and mend things with Alex afterwards."
"Agreed," said Leonard as he led the way into the chamber.
(*Story exceeds 20000 characters, continued in next post...*)
Spring Ahead, Fall Back - Continued!
The training room, now well illuminated, was empty aside from the scaffolding in the center. Heavy sheets obscured whatever lay within. Leonard and Elsie lifted their gazes from the scaffolding to the observation deck on the opposite wall, shielded with bulletproof glass. Several instructors and graduate students were visible behind the glass, along with the dark haired, sensibly dressed Miss Primrose. The Lion and the Unicorn waved in recognition to their official liaison to MI-Six. An intercom system hummed to life.
"Lion, Unicorn, welcome," greeted Miss Primrose in crisp, businesslike tones. "Your punctuality is appreciated. Please position yourselves as you see fit."
Nodding in acknowledgment, the pair split up to take positions on opposite sides of the scaffolding, leaving plenty of distance between themselves and the unknown figure within.
"Percival, are you ready in there?" inquired Miss Primrose.
"Ready for action," answered a voice from behind the sheets. The voice was indistinct, with a metallic echo.
"Lion and Unicorn, are you ready?"
"Ready when you are," affirmed Leonard. "Let's see what this..."
SPROING!!!
Leonard cut off his sentence abruptly as a massive metallic construct propelled itself free of the scaffolding, and rapidly descended towards him. Leaping to one side, he avoided being crushed as the construct slammed into the floor behind him. Leonard turned his momentum into a forward roll, twisting into a crouch as he came up to face his assailant.
It was a large, dark orange metal sphere, nearly ten feet in diameter, with thick arms and legs attached. Spherical protrusions the size of marbles covered the surface of the main body. Small mirror-shaded windows were spaced at regular intervals on its upper half – presumably to allow the operator inside to see. A loud ticking sound resonated from within the construct. On the whole, it resembled a headless clockwork soldier.
"Time for your comeuppance, Leonard!" screeched the metallic voice. "For today you face the mechanical might of... The Clockwork Orange!"
"I don't think Anthony Burgess would quite approve!" rejoined Leonard, drawing his heavy pistols.
Leonard quickly discharged both pistols at the construct, aiming for the mirrored windows. To no great surprise, the bullets thudded against them without effect – they apparently had been crafted to be resistant to impact.
"It would be a shame if the fight were over too early, after all," he muttered. Leonard broke into a run, seeking to circle behind the lumbering construct.
SPROING!!!
One of the construct's fists launched forward, propelled from its arm socket by a high-tension spring. The heavy metal fist slammed into Leonard's chest, propelling him backwards and knocking him against the wall. The fist, reaching the limit of the spring's tension, quickly recoiled back to its socket, where a series of clasps automatically snapped close to hold it in position.
"Stay behind it, Elsie!" roared Leonard, wincing from the blow. "This bloke has a punch like a freight train!"
As if in answer, Elsie appeared from behind her section of the scaffolding, hovering in the air through telekinetic force. Maneuvering herself behind and above the Clockwork Orange, she began firing beams of silver energy from her unicorn's horn. As with Leonard's firearms, however, the construct's armor was sufficient to deflect the attack.
"No relying on your sister to do your dirty work, Leonard!" proclaimed the construct.
A half dozen sproings sounded off as a burst of small metal spheres were forcibly expelled from its backside. Elsie cried out in shock as she was struck by the surprise shelling. She disappeared from view in a shimmer of light, teleporting behind the concealment of the scaffolding.
Leonard snarled in anger, holstering his pistols and reaching for a high-powered grapnel launcher from his belt. He kept his distance from the Clockwork Orange, hoping to minimize the force of its spring-powered armaments.
"Come, Leonard!" taunted the construct. "I thought you liked your fights up close and personal!"
The Clockwork Orange launched another spring-powered hand from its socket. Instead of seeking to punch Leonard, however, the hand stayed open as it sailed towards him. The mechanical hand automatically closed as it reached Leonard's chest, ensnaring the Lion and yanking him back towards the Clockwork Orange at breakneck speed. Meanwhile, the construct's other arm had wound up for a haymaker punch. After the hand carrying Leonard snapped back into place, the other hand smashed into his head with bone shaking force.
Elsie teleported back into view, this time in front of the Clockwork Orange. Her unicorn's horn gleamed with charged energy, which it released in a blinding flare of light. A strangled yelp emanated from the Clockwork Orange, and it halted its pummeling of Leonard. With this momentary respite, Leonard was able to shake off his dizziness. He pried open the mechanical fingers that gripped his chest, and dropped to the ground.
"Fall back, Elsie!" he called out. "Get ready to hit this thing from above on my signal!"
Elsie nodded and teleported to the cover of the sheeted scaffolding. For his part, Leonard concentrated on distancing himself once more from the Clockwork Orange, drawing his grapnel launcher as he did so.
"Let's try this again..." he muttered under his breath.
The Clockwork Orange launched another spring-powered punch at the Lion. Having since gauged the speed of the construct's movements, however, Leonard was able to jump away from the blow. He took careful aim, and fired his grapnel at one of the Clockwork Orange's mechanical legs, where it solidly attached.
"Now, Elsie!" he signaled.
Elsie reappeared, hovering above the Clockwork Orange. She fired a focused beam at it from above, while Leonard hauled fiercely on the steel cable that had ensnared the construct's leg. The combined attack left the Clockwork Orange imbalanced, and it toppled backwards into the scaffolding with a resounding crash. Sheets billowed out and metal support beams scattered like flinders in its wake.
"Yes!" exclaimed Elsie, wiping her brow in relief. "Looks like we've finally got that..."
SPROING!!!
A heavy panel ejected from the backside of the Clockwork Orange. The force launched it up from the floor, and it landed back on its feet with a resounding crunch.
"Nice try, Leonard!" crowed the echoing voice. "But I'd be a poor engineer if I hadn't accounted for that possibility!"
"Oh, that is just not bloody fair..." grumbled Leonard, as he took a glancing blow from another spring-powered punch.
Without the sheeted scaffolding to conceal her position, Elsie found herself having to dodge more of the small metal projectiles from the Clockwork Orange. Suddenly seized with inspiration, she grabbed one of the loose sheets, and then teleported directly above the construct, where she released it. The sheet floated down to cover its windows, interfering with the pilot's vision once more. Granted a brief respite from the engine's assault, Elsie teleported next to Leonard, where she whispered her plan to him.
"By Jove, Elsie – that might just do the trick!" murmured Leonard.
The Clockwork Orange launched a barrage of metal pellets from the top of its casing, which carried the sheet away with them. With a series of ponderous clanks, the construct regained its sights on Leonard, and launched both of its spring-powered fists at him.
Leonard, prepared for such an attack, narrowly sidestepped the assault. However, instead of leaping far away to reposition himself, he stood his ground and caught one of the clockwork fists as it sailed past him. Bracing his feet firmly against the floor, Leonard was only dragged a few feet closer to the Clockwork Orange before friction brought him to a stop.
Flashing a feral grin, the Lion let go of the fist. It recoiled back towards the Clockwork Orange, but at a slower speed. Deprived of its full range of motion, the spring no longer held the potential energy necessary to retract the fist all the way back to its arm socket.
An outraged scream echoed from the construct as its right fist oscillated uselessly back and forth on its extended spring. The Clockwork Orange fired a withering onslaught of spherical projectiles in a wide spray towards Leonard, who could only throw up his arms in a cross guard to protect against the multiple impacts.
With the pilot thus engaged, Elsie teleported to behind the Clockwork Orange and crouched low. So positioned, Elsie quickly inspected the construct's legs. True to her suspicions, she spied a series of clasps connecting the spring-mounted feet to the leg sockets. Elsie fired a tightly-focused beam of energy at the left leg's clasps at close range, teleporting away at the last second.
SPROING-OING-OING-oing-oing-oing-oing...
The left foot, freed from its moorings, fired off from the tightly-compacted spring. Without both of its feet to launch it properly, the Clockwork Orange was catapulted onto its right side, further befouling its trailing right hand. Furthermore, the damaged clasps were unable to properly catch the construct's foot as it returned, leaving it freely oscillating back and forth at rapid speed.
"Enough!" wailed the pilot's metallically echoing voice. "I yield!"
*****************************************
Fifteen minutes later, Leonard and Elsie were brought up to the observation deck for debriefing. A dour-faced Alexander, having since been extricated from his clockwork vessel, was also present.
"Alex?" inquired Leonard. "So you were at the center of that machine. I thought the pilot was taking things awfully personally!"
"Indeed," observed Miss Primrose. "Which begs the question – what happened to the absent Percival Merriweather?"
"I... knocked him out cold, and left him trussed and gagged in a storage closet," answered Alex. "The arrogant sod had no head for piloting the Orange, and I wanted the satisfaction of clocking Leonard myself. Fat lot of good it did me..."
"Oh, I wouldn't go so far as that," interjected Leonard. "You gave a cracking good fight, there."
"And Leonard and I both wanted to apologize for embarrassing you so terribly last year," added Elsie, alongside Leonard's emphatic nod. "I had no idea you were carrying such a fierce grudge all this time."
"Well, it was a rather personal insult," said Alex testily. "I challenge you to find another man who would not have been so wounded!"
"Yes..." noted a speculative Miss Primrose. "Just what did you say to vex Mister Devonshire so badly?"
"It was a slip of the tongue!" protested Leonard. "One worthy of Reverend Spooner. I saw that Alex had caught Elsie's eye with this miniature mechanical ballerina. And what I meant to say was, 'I never thought a lady would coo to such a tiny piece of clockwork.' But what came out was, 'I never thought a lady would clue to such a tiny piece of co...'"
"ENOUGH!" screeched the red-faced Alexander. "You positively sank my reputation with that... mistake. At least have the decency never to repeat it again!"
"Sorry, old chap," apologized Leonard with a rueful expression. "I would have apologized sooner, but you made yourself deucedly hard to find. What say you to making a fresh start of it? We'll treat you to a couple of pints at the Honest Lawyer. And the sight of us comrades-in-arms, happy as you please, should do a lot to restore your unfairly tarnished reputation."
"Comrades-in-arms?" asked Alex quizzically.
"Ahem," coughed Miss Primrose politely. "While Lord Leonard Fairfax may have gotten ahead of himself, I do find his reasoning sound in this instance. England can always do with additional superheroes. This training exercise was as much a test of your engine's ability as it was of the prowess of the Lion and the Unicorn. Your skill and determination in piloting it were commendable. I can certainly envision situations that would benefit from the deployment of the Clockwork Orange... if you are still willing to pilot it."
"Truly?" whispered Alex. He looked up at Miss Primrose's serious face with worshipful eyes. "Well, yes... certainly! Of course, the Orange could do with some upgrades. That battle highlighted a few design flaws, but I've already got some ideas on how to work around them..."
"Naturally," agreed Miss Primrose. "As a government-sanctioned hero, you would be granted a generous budget for the purposes of maintaining and upgrading the Clockwork Orange. For now, go and enjoy your newfound camaraderie. We'll discuss the details at length, later."
The meeting adjourned shortly after that. Miss Primrose watched in satisfaction as Alexander left, talking animatedly with Leonard and Elsie. England had gained a new hero, and a formerly broken young man had found a new spring in his step.
*****************************
(Author's Note: For those who are curious, my research indicates that the title of Anthony Burgess's classic, "A Clockwork Orange," was inspired in part from an old Cockney expression, "As strange as a clockwork orange." Actually, not 'strange,' but the original word gets bleeped on the profanity filter, despite it being a perfectly reasonable word for meaning 'odd' or 'strange.')
Woops, I know it's a little late and a little indirect, but this was done for a little fun nonetheless. ;)
The Broken Spring
The highly-strung sprite strode saliently, sauntering through sumptuous splendour as he secretly summoned stored strength to sinfully speak his sequestered sorrows. Silently skirting a significant supply of silks and satins, he slowed to a still, stalling in surprise to see his solemn supervisor sternly staring at where he stood.
"Silver Sparrow? I sensed such spritely steps slipping softly through the scene. So shocked you seem! So shocked..."
Seeing the sallow skin of his stunted sidekick, the suave swashbuckler spoke not solid sounds, but soft, soothing sympathies.
"Say, simple soul... you seem suffused with squalid sadness. Speak your suffering, lest such stings subsist."
"Sir..." So started the sadly smiling sprig. "...In supreme seriousness, I squarely stand before your stead to say with sadness and sorrow that I shall subsequently be stepping down from my space at your side."
A stark semblance of stunned surprise slid swiftly across the sinewy surface of the scarred soldier. Shaken and slowly surrendering to the speech, he sunk sharply, slumping to a sofa nearby.
"... Serving alongside a superhero, the stupendous 'Shining Sovereign', I saw such spite and suffering in the sphere of society. Stupidly succumbing to sadistic speculations in solitude, I suspended the soundness of the stout-heart and sought spurious satisfaction in sin. A scourge to scoundrels and sinners, I became seduced by the same sleaze that had stained the souls of the sum..."
Suspending the story, a sharp stifling of a sorry sniffle spread from the sitting Sovereign. Sweeping a square scarf from his side, he soaked up the soggy splashes and signalled the sordid saga to stumble on.
"... Sightless and sickened by my sacrilege I strove to stop the sinking sensation that subverted my sanity. Shoddily, my search for safety and security of spirit spurred me to sip and successively swig a sizeable stock of spirits..."
Snivels and squeaks suddenly shattered the story as the Sovereign, so sadly subsumed in the sketch strove to suppress his sorrowful sighs. Succeeding a short second, he stuttered to the slight specimen to spin his story to summation.
"... A sloshed sponge, I strayed seriously and was stripped of my senses, sobering to see a situation so shameful as to solicit the supreme sleep. Surrounding my sodden shape spread scraps and shambles of slashed and smashed scum, some still sporting the spikes of 'Sparrow Spurs' secreting scarlet stains from septic sores..."
A soft stammer before a summary was stated.
"...To stride the steps of strenuous salvation, I solicit the surrender and separation of myself from the superhero stint."
So summarised, the scrubby shrimp swivelled as if to split.
"Stand speedily, short squire! Some suggestions stay unsaid!" A sonorous shout sounded from the staggered Sovereign.
"If shepherd you seek to steer you to a stainless state, so I shall serve as safeguard and support! Swear you stay, and I shall sustain your self...!"
Still for seconds, the stale shadow of the once-sturdy specimen stood shrunken with spine to soldier as if in study or scrutiny. Seething with shame, the simple soul spun to see the sight of the sword swathed Sovereign before spurring himself to sluggishly spread from the scene. Sibilating his sorrow as he subtly strode with spent steam, he sighed, "Seldom can such struggles be sprung back from so straightforwardly..."
As the silhouette of the slipping soul sped from sight, the Sovereign stared on in suspense before surrendering to his seat. Swamping himself in soft-hearted sorrow, a squall of sobs slipped with sentiment from his system. In silent solace he subsequently submitted to strive to spring his once-sprightly second from the spiral of suffering. Somehow.
Okay folks, cchallenge is now CLOSED! Thanks for all the last minute entries!
I'll start mulling over the entries when I get home tonight and will hopefully have my results for you soon.
Again, thank you everyone who entered.
"An-Ti-Ci-Pay-Shun... Anti-Ci-Pay-Hay-Shun..."
I haven't forgotten you guys. I'm just getting a little outside help 'cause I'm having a hard time picking a favorite.
I need to check this area out more often. I could have made a fiction for the challenge.
Quote from: BWPS on June 10, 2009, 05:44:29 PM
I need to check this area out more often. I could have made a fiction for the challenge.
The challenge may be over with, but there's no rule that says you can't still post a story in the forum.
Quote from: BlueBard on June 10, 2009, 06:37:36 PM
Quote from: BWPS on June 10, 2009, 05:44:29 PM
I need to check this area out more often. I could have made a fiction for the challenge.
The challenge may be over with, but there's no rule that says you can't still post a story in the forum.
I actually have a personal rule called "the lazy rule". I can't write anything unless I have a deadline.
Quote from: BWPS on June 11, 2009, 04:42:54 AM
Quote from: BlueBard on June 10, 2009, 06:37:36 PM
Quote from: BWPS on June 10, 2009, 05:44:29 PM
I need to check this area out more often. I could have made a fiction for the challenge.
The challenge may be over with, but there's no rule that says you can't still post a story in the forum.
I actually have a personal rule called "the lazy rule". I can't write anything unless I have a deadline.
Fine.
Post a story by 8 am EST on June 15.
Now you have a deadline.
DO IT.
I'm really sorry guys, I still havent' heard back yet. I'll give him one more day and then I'll just move on.
Again, really sorry.
:lol:
If you and your friend are having such a hard time deciding then I guess we should all win! :thumbup:
There are 5 stories... you could always use a D10 to decide... ;)
Sounds fair to me! ;)
BB - I'll PM you my PayPal name.
Heh, I wish I could afford that.... as it stands the "maybe there will be a prize, maybe not" is looking at "not" thanks to some recent dental work (old bond left over from my grade school misadventures was starting to crack) :(
Still haven't heard from my friend, and though the d10 sounds tempting, I think no. I will post a little bit of what I thought of each one for discussion purposes....
"Spring Break-Out"-BlueBard
I have to say I really liked the music motif throughout. It was a nice linking element through the various scenes. Amphibi-Man comes across as a very likable character and the story itself has a lot of charm. As for the heroes... I don't think they work quite as well. You could have almost done with one less since there isn't a lot for them to do. Still overall I enjoyed reading this piece, a very nice use of the "Spring" theme.
Springing The Trap-BlueBard
I am reminded slightly of Uncle Remus' tales reading this because I had to read parts of it out loud due to dialect. :) That said, this reads a lot like a radio comedy for obvious reasons. The theme "spring" as in "spring the trap" does work and while I applaud trying a different writing style, I feel your first piece was stronger.
Untitled-Xenolith
I like the POV of this piece, and there are some funny observations in here. Your "villain" who didn't so much become a supervillain as happen into it is fun. In a way, I would have liked it to have been longer, it feels very short. The "spring" theme could be more prominent as well - my first thought was you were going to use Rubber Man in this way somehow, but instead most of the theme element is encompassed in the final paragraph.
Spring Ahead, Fall Back-Viking
I have a confession - I could not read this one in one sitting. As soon as I hit "Clockwork Orange" I was reeling so much from that pun I had to walk around a bit and groan (and giggle a bit too). And again at the spoonerism. Oy... anyway... The spring-powered automaton does fill the theme quite well. The ending... I dunno, it felt a little too pat. I don't know what I was looking for per se, but things seemed to fall together too easily.
The Broken Spring -PreRaphaelite
AAAhhhh, awesome amounts of alliteration! :D While I have to salute you for pulling this off, it does make it the toughest to get through since the alliterative quality is actually a bit distracting (I mean, it's actually kind of a dark story, once you get past the novelty of the alliteration). Of coure, I was also reminded of a Patrick McManus short story ("Salami on Rye, Gold the Wild Gobo", if you read the latter half about Stretch and his poems, you'll get the connection) so that was a bit of personal distraction. The theme seems to have gotten lost, which was part of the challenge, though I 'm guessing it's a psychological spring that has sprung here. Still... dang, I am impressed you pulled this off.
I'll be honest, I don't want to pick a winner. What do you guys think?
Heck, I'm just glad to get feedback. And to know that you enjoyed the story, even if the ending was too pat. That may be a function of me writing in something of a Silver-Age setting, if you'll pardon the alliteration. (I think I recall the Patrick McManus story you mention, though I remembered his friend's name as "Retch." I was amused at how Retch's sibilant stories led Pat to similar sounds in his speech, like: "Sarah, send Sally for six or so seven-cent stamps.")
Sorry to hear about the recent dental work, by the way.
At any rate - I'm glad that the pun and spoonerism had the intended groan/giggle effect. I wanted to work the spoonerism in, partly from a humorous typo Gdaybloke once made when attempting to type the name of the "Clockwork King," a villain in City of Heroes. But it took most of the month before the inspiration hit to name an automaton the Clockwork Orange. The story was also my attempt at exploring the traditional superhero trope of heroes first fighting one another due to a misunderstanding, and tweaking the trope a little.
It was a fun exercise. I'm okay with not winning or losing.
Haha, I'm not worried about the competition aspect, and most definitely was not concerned with a prize. I just thought it would be a bit of fun to fill an hour or two, and it was! Thank you for the comments GG and I agree wholeheartedly that it was a little difficult to read. This was not completely without purpose - after all, what is a 'Fiction Challenge' without challenging the reader a little? ;)
For my part, I've already told Viking that I felt his story was stronger in comparison with mine. But hey, that's okay.
"Spring Break-Out" was written in two days. I managed to find inspiration, but didn't have a lot of time. I cut corners -- intentionally. Scene transitions were abrupt. My heroes were parodies of stereotypical archetypes. I thought about expanding the story with fight scenes and escapes and misunderstandings, etc... but all that would've distracted from my goal of telling a short, enjoyable story about a villain who basically plays 'hooky'. Nearly all my efforts of character development went into Amphibi-Man. I like him too. He breaks the stereotype of the bad-guy mutant bruiser. He's smarter than his enemies give him credit for, more easy-going than anyone expects him to be, and other quirks of character that I'll reserve in case I write him again.
BTW... Amphibi-Man hums because he can't whistle. That might be a story for another time.
"Springing The Trap". I admit it. It was a throwaway story. It was dashed out in one day. The goal was, again, to produce a short, enjoyable read with the hope that it might inspire someone else who wouldn't ordinarily post to post something. Again, loaded with stereotypes -- including the over-complicated over-the-top deathtrap. The only thing novel about it was the transcript angle and that would never have worked as anything but a very short story. UberMaster was difficult to write for. I decided that the transcript was being generated by a speech-to-text program. This led to the notion that UberMaster's bad accent would result in mistranslations into other words... sort of like a spell-checker gone wrong. Yeah, GG... the read out loud effect was also very intentional.
But if I had to be objective, I would have nominated Viking for the win. The story flowed better, the detail was richer, and the amount of effort that went into it was clearly seen. If it had any real weakness, it would be the presumption that you were already familiar with the Lion and the Unicorn characters. But the story didn't have to be standalone and it was likely that the audience had read his previous tales.
I have to confess... I couldn't get through the alliteration story. The effort that went into it is admirable, though. My personal feeling is that a story should be easy for a reader to digest... but I broke that principle with UberMaster so I won't be slinging stones
I am also familiar with the McManus story you were referring to. I can confirm that "Retch" was not the character who wrote the 'S' poems in that story but I don't remember for sure if the name was Stretch or Slick.
Thanks for the additional tidbit of feedback, BB. I actually did try to put in sufficient background detail so that recurring characters would at least be comprehensible to new readers. So, if anyone read my story that hasn't read my previous "Lion and Unicorn" stories, and felt at all confused or at a loss, I would very much appreciate hearing about it.
I realized that some of my previous works had automatically presumed familiarity with the Lion and the Unicorn, and the world that I have crafted for them, so this story was also an experimental attempt in making a story that would be accessible to first-time readers of the material. I would very much welcome feedback on this point.
Likewise, if people feel that the story had an ending that fell together too easily, I would welcome confirmation on that point. Especially if they have a sense of where they would have otherwise taken the story. (This is not a slight against GG in any fashion - I've certainly had my share of reactions where something inexplicable just rubbed me the wrong way. But if you have a subsequent moment of clarity, I'd appreciate hearing it.)
Let's see... there's some feedback I can give on other stories, too...
The alliteration in "The Broken Spring" was indeed eye-catching, but I agree that it ultimately made the story somewhat hard to get through. I feel that as a literary tool, alliteration probably does a better job in smaller chunks. Such as, if there were a single character that spoke primarily in alliteration, or simply made an introduction in alliteration. (A scene from the movie, "V for Vendetta" springs to mind.) Used sparingly, alliteration is a powerful, attention-grabbing tool.
BlueBard's portrayal of the UberMaster's speech patterns is another interesting experiment. I normally am extremely hesitant to try inserting deliberate misspellings as a portrayal of accents so thick you could cut them and sell them in slices. Part of this reaction is the fear that I'll portray the accent badly. (Though BB has said that UberMaster is deliberately intended to have a bad accent.)
I'd say that my favorite example of thick accents written well would be that of the Jagermonsters in the Girl Genius online comic. Something about their portrayal just resonates with me. (It probably gains flavor from the fact that illustration allows the text balloons to be drawn in a jagged fashion, which further implies a rough and gravelly voice.)
Viking, after a close re-read I'd have to say you did a pretty good job of reintroducing the characters. It was in fact just subtle enough that I missed that fact... meaning it didn't get in the way of the story and flowed naturally enough that I didn't catch it.