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MIContest 2

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Meiscool:
This will be a two part contest that I doubt will succeed but I put A LOT of thought into it and really want to see have a good turn out. I specifically tried to make this contest accessible and desirable to all of charas' story tellers and music makers (AFL, Dren, etc).

First part: Story Writing.
Second part: Music.

First Part Summary: Create a story with a certain theme to it. The possible themes are: Regret, Hopelessness, Love, Humor, Happy Ending. While the entire story does not have to revolve around the theme, I would like it to be obvious enough to the point where if you hadn't told me what the theme was, I would still be able to guess it out of the five choices. That being said, please do state the theme if you submit a story.

Stories should be original, and can be things you have written before not for a charas contest if you want. Just make sure it matches the criteria. Stories should be at least fifteen sentences long, have at least 5 sentences of dialog, and have no more than three characters. All stories should make mention of these words (tense and plurality doesn't matter) at some point in the writing: Death, Candy, Peacock, Knife, Juggle, and Scripture. Each required word must have its own sentence, therefore death and candy cannot be in the same sentence. You can be as witty or whatevery as you want with these, example: "Hey, did you see Death Note last night?" "No, I was too busy reading scriptures." "It was awesome, some guy carved a pentagram into his chest with a knife." "Really? All I ever see is some blonde prick with a scar eating candy." etc.

Other than that, there are no rules. You have complete control over everything else. Just try not to make it too long!

How I will judge: There will be one winner of this section. Stories will be rated on a summary of the writing qualities it has, how well it follows the rules, and how well it matches the said theme. I will need a second judge. Judges may also enter if they want.

Second Part Summary: Make a tune to the winning story of the first part. You can use anything you want to do this, from simple editing with audacity to remixing to custom made electric music to music recording you played and more. For this part, the only rules are: piece must be between 15 second and 30 seconds long, and the poster must state how they made the piece. The first part is open to some lee-way, but the second part is important because I want the judging to take effort into account.

Judging will take into account how well the piece matches the theme of the winner of the first part, the quality of the piece, and the effort put into the piece. That being said, a piece of moderate quality that was written and played by oneself will probably rank higher than a piece that was written by Beethoven and remixed by oneself. I will need multiple judges for this too.

No time limit set, but if you intend to enter, please make a post saying so and edit it with your entry later. Also, a person can enter both parts of the contest if they want.
Let me hear opinions on this too please. Enjoy~

Prpl_Mage:
Interesting.

*Entered*

Any suggestions on software to use for music-making?


A tale of hopelessness

The shadow of the brazier danced upon the walls of a dark room, upon the wall were murals of a ritual involving the death of one of the participants. These walls and the ritual described wasn't something ancient or mythic though. Charim gazed upon these walls and knew exactly what they meant. Sweat running down his forehead as it just now occurred to him what situation he was actually in.
He was born with magic in his blood, his very existence deemed abdominal by the viziers that ruled this land. Magic was nothing but a force of destruction threatening the order the viziers upheld.
Charim began pacing the room, he was stuck in this dome-like confinement until he would be called for. Him and all the others in the room. One by one they had left and none returned. A young boy, only half his own age had told him stories of the peacocks they raised at his father's farm. But seeing the boy's remaining bag in the room twitched his guts. It had already been four days since the boy left and one of the older folks in the room had told him:

"You wouldn't want to live after what they do with those knives."

Charim felt sick and searched his pockets for something as he slid down the murals to the ground. He found a honey amber, crystallized honey that his sister loved. He must've forgotten to give it to her before he was taken away.

"Your presence brings the wrath of the gods upon all of us dark blood!" A manic voice shrieked from a room close by. It was not the first time that people passed through the temple and heard of people like Charim being held in these rooms.

"The scripture speaks of the demons that corrupted your mothers and conceived you! Dark creatures from the pits of Har'firan! Murderers and thieves returning to bring more chaos into the world!"

Charims heart sank.

"Am I truly the monster people say I am?" He mumbled in the dark. Demonborn, dark blood. People did not see the magically gifted as people, as citizens, as brothers and sisters. They were stigma. They were not worth being called human anymore.

It had only been a stroke of bad luck that put him where he was now. An ordinary day in the market where he and his sister followed their mother through the bazaar to reach the archives. But on this particular day Charim had woken up with a bad headache that felt like it was forcing it's way through his very skull.
They reached the bazaar and all the voices, the smells and all the people was only increasing the power of the headache. He tried to control it, tried to keep his mind balanced. But when he stopped and saw his mother disappear into the crowd it was like trying to juggle with six burning snakes.
And that's when he lost control, when he realised what he was. And when he saw the look on his sister's face. A look of fear, of disgust and then a dark emptiness.
People had begun to drop to the ground around him, his sister too. The pressure of his head lifted but instead his body felt exhausted and he dropped as well. He heard screams and he heard shouts. And before he knew it he had woken up in this room.

And he had been in this room for almost a week now. One of the guards had explained that the only way out was to let the viziers cleanse their blood from the taint. And one by one they had been called, to let the viziers preform the ritual shown on these murals. A tainted man kneeling before a throne, a man in elaborate headgear raising a blade, the blade thrust into the skin of the kneeling person and the magic of the victim drained by the blade.

As a child Charim had asked his father why magic users are monsters when the viziers had magic of their own. His father's answer was that the viziers powers came from the gods that intended for them to rule. Charim was beginning to doubt if they were so different if this was the fate that waited him.

"The hour is over." A dark voice said as the locks of the door twinged, it was the acolyte sent to escort him.

Fear washed over Charim, this was the end of his life. But what did it matter? His family hated him and his sister was dead, his blood was tainted and everyone with dark blood was destined to this fate. There was only the cleansing for they were a threat. He was a threat, he was a monster.
He backed way from the robed figure that entered the room, hitting the wall and pleading for his life. He tried to grab something but only the braziers where within reach which fell on the ground and shattered coal across the ground and hitting Charims legs. The searing stones hurt, but what was waiting for him would make that feel like nothing. Charim remembered the last person who left the room, he had been curing the gods and just a few seconds later his shriek must've filled every corridor of the temple.
Cold fingers grabbed his ankle pulling him towards the door. He wanted to fight, wanted to make it stop. But there was nothing he could do. He was weak and tired and could do nothing as he got closer to the shrine. Heavy odours filled the air here but couldn't quite cover the stench of blood and decaying corpses. There was a bright light in an alcove and before it stood three figures noticing his entrance.

"Another dark soul for the gods." One of them exclaimed as he entered screaming for his life. The exchanged words and one of the men stepped towards him, lifting a decorated scabbard into the air and slowly drawing forth a blade.
Charim tried to run, tried to stop it. But he felt the weight of the world pushing him down, his arms were chained to the floor and no matter how much he pulled he could not lift the weight of an entire temple. He tried to scream, but there was no sound to escape him. It was like the incenses of the room muted everything. His head felt heavy but he saw the blade drawing closer. The light from where the other stood flared to life and it's gloating shine reflected in the blade as the man stood just in front of Charim mumbling praises to gods he had never heard of. There was a sound, there was a feeling, there was a look upon the man's face. And then there was no more.

Grandy:
Man, a month ago I'l have joined this in a heartbeat. Now? Now I barely have time to write things for my college, let alone whole stories for Charas. :/

fruckert:
I would totally join, but the thought of writing a short story on my phone is making my brain (and thumbs) ache.

ellie-is:
Well, I do have one more day before the weekend is over... Just have no idea how to make music, though.

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