View Full Version : Inaugural Fanfic Writing Sprint: August 2008

Gavin Luper
16th August 2008, 01:10 AM
Attention, Fanficcers!

The inaugural fanfic writing sprint will run next weekend, the 23rd & 24th of August.

What is a writing sprint, you ask? Fair question. A writing sprint is a chance for writers to write as much as they can on a given topic in the space of a weekend; that is, next Saturday and Sunday.

To sign up for the Sprint, just post in this thread expressing your intention to participate next weekend.

The entries are all posted in the same thread, and aside from the theme, which will be revealed at the beginning of the sprint, there are no conditions on the pieces of writing. That means you can submit anything you want: poems, lyrics, short stories, scripts, full novels (if you're a machine), streams of consciousness, just dot-points of ideas and notes - anything, of any length, in any format.

You can post your efforts as soon as you write them, and edit them or add to them at any point during the Sprint until it closes on Sunday night.

Incomplete entries and messy drafts are perfectly acceptable as finished products in such a sprint, as none of the entries will be judged: this is a chance for us to have some fun, enjoy some 'wild writing' and see what different ideas we all get from the same topic.

Without further ado, I'd like to express my interest in signing up for the Sprint next weekend, and hope that you guys want to join in too!


16th August 2008, 01:26 AM
*signs up*



16th August 2008, 01:33 AM
*signs up and leaves*

16th August 2008, 01:57 AM
I'm in.

16th August 2008, 07:03 AM
*puts up hand* Whee!

16th August 2008, 12:07 PM
Holy!!! ^.^ This is sweet!! Sign me up! Sign me uuuuuup!

Lady Vulpix
16th August 2008, 05:18 PM
I don't know if I'll make it, but I can try.

Crystal Tears
18th August 2008, 03:10 PM
I'll give it a shot ^^

Shuppet Master
18th August 2008, 07:32 PM
I haven't heard of this before, so I think I will pass this time. But I might try for it next time, depending on the theme. :D

Saffire Persian
21st August 2008, 12:44 PM
I'll give it a whirl, I suppose.

Gavin Luper
22nd August 2008, 02:55 AM
Okay, well it may not be the weekend in all parts of the world yet, but it's Friday arvo in Perth and that's good enough for me. Sprints seem like fun weekend events after all.

Glad to see you all interested, and I hope you guys find this exercise enjoyable.

Without further ado, the topic for this weekend's sprint is:

Missed connections.

You have until Sunday at midnight (US time) to post and edit your writing in thread, in whatever form you wish.

So: I declare the first TPM Fanfic Writing Sprint OPEN!

*fires gun*

Good luck everyone!

22nd August 2008, 10:07 AM
Missed connections? Man, how can something that sounds so simple be so hard to write for? Here I go!

AT&T Commercial Parody

"Beeeep. This is the phone of Shonta's mind. She doesn't have AT&T so there are no bars out here in La La Land. Too bad she'll miss your call about how badly Shonta needs her for the final exam in Calculus. Oh well. I guess she could still pass the class...after some well-rehearsed begging and lying."

22nd August 2008, 07:49 PM
Indeed! Missed Conntection wasn't exactly what I thought the topic was going to be. What could be a missed conntection- a puzzle peice out of place? A wire not plugged in properly, or is it something else- something deeper...A Missing Connection is not something some one uses in day to day language, not like food or more food. This is going to take some thought....

Ham and baloni together become hamloni.

22nd August 2008, 10:25 PM
A Moment from Super Mario Galaxy

I hate Purple Coin Stars.

Well, most of them.

Mainly the ones with the time limit.

Especially the ones with a time limit of two minutes or less.

For example, I was going for the Purple Coin Star in Ghostly Galaxy (or whatever it's called). Grab 100 of the 150 coins within a limit of under two minutes. You'd think it would be good that I could ignore up to fifty of those coins. Heh, it just means that I have to figure out which ones I could ignore.

After ten tries I had a good routine going. I had the one hundred and just enough time to float to the star. The Pull Stars were a little stubborn but I almost had it.

Suddenly...the cursor was gone.

The little glove with the blue star was gone.

Mario fell to the little gray moon/planet thingie.

The letters W-T-F blinked on and off in my mind in neon lights. Seriously, what was the problem?

See, I was too busy looking at the screen to notice that my oblivious dog had pulled down the sensor bar while looking for a place to sleep. I glared at said dog. Said dog used the puppy dog eyes, genuinely confused about why her master was so cranky.

I missed the time limit and took me three more tries to get the star.

Now all I have to do is go through the same damn thing with Luigi.

Lady Vulpix
23rd August 2008, 08:19 AM
Sorry, I think I'll pass. I have to work on my thesis, plus the few things that come to my mind when I think of that subject are things I don't want to write. Good luck to everyone who's participating.

23rd August 2008, 01:47 PM
"Missed Connections"

It was already a quarter past one in the morning, and I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about the next day when I would be going to the music shop and get my hands on the brand new single from my favourite band ever. It's not every day that a legendary group reforms after years of silence and release fresh and never before heard material. I'm such a fan, I know.

My name's Andy - I wish I had a cooler name - and I'm nineteen years old. I have brown hair styled in a mop sort of thing (I can't be bothered trying something else) and brown eyes. I'm a fan of 'The Ketchup Soldiers'. Okay, I know the name sounds a bit ... you know ... different, but really, they're cool. Their music is the best there is. Period. They had a massive massive song when they first started called 'Good news, Paco' which was a song about victims of wars. The reviews were not really good though, but who cares about them anyway? And who cares if their album sales and following singles were not stellar? Doesn't make them any less legendary!

Since my mind was still on, I decided to grab my Ipod and listen to their first album. Their first and only. It's such a good album, I recommend it to everyone. Their songs take me to places I never thought I'd go to. And the lead singer has the best voice I've ever heard. I could talk about them all day, really. But unfortunately, not a lot of people like them in general. Or people don't remember who they are. At Uni, even those who labelled themselves as 'different' always smirked arrogantly if they heard me talk about The Ketchup Soldiers. So, in the end, I did what anybody would've done: I googled for Ketchup Soldiers forums. There was only one with a few members registered and even fewer posts. The group didn't have a website or a MySpace or anything. Hard to get any info really.

I kept searching and searching for anything related to Ketchup Soldiers everyday. I joined Ebay, and other websites. But nothing really stood out. Some people were selling the first album (which was now only available on Itunes) while others were selling the 3 posters made which I all own. But then, a few weeks ago, I came across a post on some website talking about 'releases nobody is going to care about' (that post title angered me, but at least the content calmed me down) and it said that the Ketchup Soldiers were releasing a new single which was an unreleased song (which was supposed to go on their second album but since that album got scrapped in the end ...). Needless to say that reading that post literally made me jump off my seat and dance like an idiot for a good few minutes.

I went to the music store and asked them if they were indeed going to be selling the Ketchup Soldiers new single. They looked at me funny and then searched in their database for any info. They were stunned and said that 'yes, we are going to be selling that album'. I was so happy I grinned and walked away feeling light and invincible. Weird feeling, but true. I went on the one and only forum about the legendary group that I love to see if anyone else had heard about that new release but there were no new posts. I shouldn't have been surprised, after all, the last post was dated from a year ago. Ever since that day though, I had been counting down the days until the release. And now that I was in my bed, I was glancing at the clock on my bedside table, counting down the hours and minutes ...

I woke up with a start. I looked at my clock. 8:54am. Crap. Shit. Fuck! I slept in. The store was going to open at 9 and it usually took me half an hour to get there. I got out of my bed quick, forgetting that I still had my Ipod on my chest. It fell to the ground and the screen went a bit weird. No time to check it. I took a moment to decide whether or not to have a shower. Decided it'd save me time to not have one. I sprayed some deodorant over my upper body, followed by the tshirt I grabbed randomly from my closet. I could feel my breath going faster as I jumped into my jeans and shoes (no time to put socks on!) and grabbed my wallet (hurting my hand in the process as I bumped it into the desk). I made an angry sound and then rushed out of my room. Down the stairs. Past the lounge room where Mom and Dad were. They shook their heads (they already knew where I was going and what the occasion was for the rush). They couldn't stand Ketchup Soldiers. But at least they allowed me to play it loud when I felt like it (unless if it was late at night, then I use earphones). I ran to the bus stop as fast as I could, and even faster, when I saw the bus I had to catch already stopped. But as I got closer (and so close on top of that!) the damn bus began moving away. I cursed and swore and made another angry sound as I waited for the next bus. My mouth was dry, my hair was a mess, I probably looked like a bum ...

The next bus arrived - fifteen minutes later. I glared at the driver as I paid for my fare and had to stand up all the way to where I had to get out as the damn bus was packed. And since it was hot, it didn't smell very nice in there. It felt stuffed too. But the worst thing happened after a few stops when I realized that Mom and Dad were home ... I could've asked them to take me to the store. I cursed myself under my breath and tightened my grip on the bar I was holding for balance. I think I made another angry sound as a little girl looked at me funny. She seemed a bit scared too. Geez, did I look that bad when I just got out of bed?

When finally the bus got to where I wanted to get out, I sighed of relief. The music store was now only a minute or so away on foot. But when I climbed down the bus, a bird in the sky chose that very moment to release its poo and it fell right on the front of my tshirt. I almost let out a scream but thought the better of it and rushed to a water fountain to wash the crap away. Another few minutes wasted and now I smelled like bird poo. Could that day be any worse? I immediately cursed myself for thinking that as a sudden fear got a hold of me. The new single! I rushed like a mad man to the music store, almost knocking over an old lady along the way (no joke!). I didn't apologize either, that would've cost me precious seconds. I did feel guilty afterwards, but I just couldn't waste any more time.

I got to the music store. I walked in, and they had a song playing. Rihanna. Ugh. Why do people like her? I don't have a fucking clue. People diss the legendary Ketchup Soldiers but praise Rihanna and listen to her songs. I came to that shop often, so I knew who was behind the counter that day. Whoever was behind the counter would be choosing the music and he was a big Rihanna fan. For that reason, I didn't like him at all. I thought it was a bad omen that he was there that day, but I took a deep breath and looked through the new singles section. No new single from Ketchup Soldiers !!! I clenched my fists and marched towards the counter. The guy, Kevin was his name (he had a name tag on his Rihanna shirt), was about my age. I glared at him and asked if he could give me the new Ketchup Soldiers single.

"Oh... I'm sorry," he said. "We actually sold every copy of that single."

I didn't look very happy. "Every ... copy? Are you kidding? Who the hell bought them? How many did you have?"

Kevin made a bit of a funny face and answered, "Erm... three copies. Three people came and bought the singles." The exact same number of people registered on the forum (except for me, I mean). The bastards!

"Are you okay?" Kevin added.

I didn't realize it but I was tearing up. I was clenching my fists so hard, I think I pierced my skin. I just shook my head.

"You sure you don't have any more left?" I asked. "Please?"

He walked over to a stall and checked through it but came back to the counter empty-handed. "I'm sorry... There's none left. I think they only released a few copies of it."

I looked at him and forced a smile when really I wanted to punch him. I turned around and was about to leave when ...

"Hold on," Kevin said. He went at the back and came back with something in his hands. "As I said, they only released a few copies of the new single, to test the waters, I think. But they also sent some of these to a few stores. One of those stores happens to be this one." He showed it to me ... a new album! A new Ketchup Soldiers album !!!

"Oh my fucking god!" I exclaimed.

"It's a promo only disc - which means no selling," he said. "But if you promise not to leak it, I'll give it to you."

"Why?" I asked, surprised as hell.

"Well, you look like you're as a fan of the Ketchup Soldiers as I am fan of RiRi. I'd be glad to help," he said, with a smile.

I smiled back, without the desire to punch him, and went back home to listen to the new album. I had my door closed and locked, curtains closed as well, and had my speakers on loud. I then listened to Missed Connections. I could go on and on about how awesome the album was but I think two words would be enough to describe it: fucking orgasmic.

I was so damn happy. That day started out so crappily and I almost thought I wasn't going to get any new music from my favourite legendary band. And from that day onwards, I didn't feel any anger whatsoever whenever I saw or heard something Rihanna-related. In fact ... I bought her last album (to the delight of Kevin the salesguy). Heh, I told him it wasn't as good as Ketchup Soldiers, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

23rd August 2008, 03:41 PM
“I activate Missed Connections!” The tawny haired thin weaselly looking boy said, as dramatically as a trumpetter on the Queens birthday, which was starting to get on Nicholas’s nerves. The stupid bluish green magic card stood up, it hyper large thanks to the hyper virtual reality displace the Duel Rings were programmed for. The scrawny boy’s baggy clothes fluttered in the sheer virtual force wind.

“What’s that card do?” Nicholas asked, dead-panned. He really honestly didn’t care what that card did- when did things get so boring?

“Missed Connection allows me to find any card with in my deck-“ Here he paused dramatically as his card was activated, a phone with a wire cut from it. It was an old house phone type, Nicholas wondered if anyone had a phone like that anymore as smoke poured from the hearing holes, “Any card, and if you have the same card, they’re both removed from play!”

“Yeah…so?” This seemed to aggravate the boy across from his, so he added, “Call your card already.”

The boy whose name Nicholas could remember growled in frustration, in a tremendous gasp he said, “I’ve been studying you Nicholas Kaine! Studying you well- I know very well that the strongest card in your deck is…Ubon the Justice!”

That got Nicholas’ interest. He looked up from his self-centered self, and looked his dribbly game obsessed boy over before saying, “You don’t have the card.”

“Don’t I?” With a theatrical flare, he lifted his hand as his Ubon the Justice was virtually displayed. A mighty monster raised up from the twerp’s deck, a monster only Nicholas thought he had. A glorious black studded stead stamped its silver as staple hooves on the virtually displaced earth field, and riding that stead was the merciless King Ozymodus, who was a man shrouded in shadow, and wrapped in the darkest of clothes. Ubon the Justice disappeared as quickly as it came, the horse neighed in pain, simultaneously, Nicholas’s Ubon was being sucked into a vortex, sucked into the void- card hell as he liked to think.

“Now what…Nick?” The boy smirked, and for once in this entire duel, he heard the crowd surrounding him.

“Hey…is that Nicholas Kaine?”

“Yeah…the All-State Regional Champion?”

“I heard he got third place in the International Championship- Beat Joey Wheeler!”

“Isn’t Joey like Ninety, man?”

“No dude, He’s like fifty seven…I think-“
“Wanna go get a hot dog or somethin’ dude?”


“Hey!” The Boy, wait- His name was Tamo, a kick he demolished just last week at his school, most humiliatingly. Serves him right, for taking the last fruit cup, “Space Cadet! Down here-“

Just then Tamo’s monster, a stupid card that went by the name of Merciless Telemarketer (What ever that was), began to plug virtual phone cords into what appeared to be a dash board full of holes standing up on its side. The monster- a Skelton, zombie type, covered in dust, four stars, twenty five hundred attack points, zero defense, was now plugged the cords in faster. The cords zoomed over to Nicholas’s side.

He had no monster on the field. Just two face down cards in his hocus-pocus row at the beginning of the game. He only had a thousand life point left. Tamo knew he was going to win. The meat deprived boy let out a joyous laugh.

“This is what you do when you study!” He gave a scampering leap of unadulterated joy, “You get victory!”

Nicholas yawned, flicked up the card nearest to the left of him.

“I activate Parallel Paradox,” The All State Champ said boredly, not even bothering to explain it. A wide hole opened up over head, and cards from his deck were sucked into the void and out ran with thunderous sounds like a thunderstorm in a trombone was Ubon the Justice. The loyal stead of Ozymodeus. Both of them. On the field. Without sacrifice.

“H-how?!” Tamo stammered, his face poppling in horror. It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t be!!

“Guess you studied for the Math test more then you studied me, huh?” Nicholas mocked, slipping his pants into his faded jean pockets, “Your deck is so lame, and your strategy is so boring. I already beat you once-“

Ubon the Justice times two charged at Tamo, who couldn’t believe it, just couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It- no. No! Tears of frustration sprung in his eyes as Ubon on struck him down- A thirty three hundred attack points was more then enough to take him out. His virtual system shut down as soon as he lost- but Nicholas let other Ubon attack, sending Tamo flying, and the crowd muttering. Nicholas shut off his system, slipped his golden dueling ring into his pocket, which shared a place with his wallet, and took off in a no care manner. The crowd separated like he had the plague.

“Is that the All State Champion?” The crowd muttered as he passed through, “The one that represented all America…?”

“What a douche bag.”

He ignored them all. They didn’t understand. They were just so…boring.

23rd August 2008, 03:47 PM
There were flyers posted up everywhere on the streets of downtown Newnew York, some kid named Nicholas Kaine had gone missing. Apparently he was good as some card game called Duel Monsters or something. It was an old game. The rules were old, the tec. was old- I mean, it didn’t even use parallel transportation tec., like Duel Masters or Digimon.

The flyers flapped like old socks on a cloths pin. It was a dusty afternoon. No one was out; you could almost hear the chemical based rain start to fall from the sky. Well, almost no one was out. In this darkening dusty afternoon, a figure dressed in a many bucked black winter coat that hide their lower half face turned the corner, their top half was covered with a red and brown striped hat, and their eyes by dark round sun glassed. They turned the corner and headed up the street. The first drops began to fall as they assed up the steps that were carved into the opening of the apartment house.

The apartment house was littered with the posters for the lost famous boy. It would be one year today since he went missing.

The covered figure walked up the steps that creaked and moaned underneath the figures weight. They were old, and rickety. The hall was an ugly tan colour, also plastered with the boys face everywhere. The figure coughed.



Three times.

He finally started to cough into his gloved hand. His coughing attack lasted long, for several minuets, he was forced to lean against the ugly coloured wall, and hack away into his glovened hand. He coughed as the rain began to fall. The rain eroded much of the painting left on the building. The Missing posters peeled, many of them would fall off, and drift away into the sewage shafts, and down swirling into the sludgy waters of the underground Newnew York.

24th August 2008, 02:51 AM
Just the beginning, but I'll post it anyway, to show I'm not a total couch potato.

Through the mist, James watched the connecting train rumble on the opposite platform. His own train rushed closer and closer to the station. He laid his palms on the carriage door, drumming his fingers, melting condensation, leaving a dark, glassy outline. Just a little closer, a little closer… The connecting train’s doors groaned together and slammed shut with a final plop. His own train grunted to a stop; the hunchback lady opposite tottered, cane skidding. As the doors peeped open, he saw the connecting train’s wheels clacking away, away. His fingers splayed, sliding down, leaving trails of a desperate man.

Damn it. Public transport could go to hell.

Resigned, James stepped out onto the platform of Glenmark Station. His eyes slid past the faded sign proclaiming “Glenmark – The Junction to Modernity” in a weary blue, past the abandoned snack kiosk, past the turnstile-less exit through which kids snuck at night, free from the old kiosk-man’s glaring eyes. Nothing ever changed here. His train pulled away behind him, filled with dozing passengers. Upon waking they would reach their destinations – Wellington, Auckland and beyond. He wished he had stayed on that train.

The sign was right: Glenmark was the junction to modernity. Everyone going from North to South passed through it without taking notice. Glenmark itself stayed rooted to the past.

The tracks were deserted for the day – it would be dawn when the next train came. James gingerly set his haunches on the metal bench, sweeping an empty crisps packet aside. His head dropped into his hands. The last time he was on this platform, he was waving goodbye, escaping the chicken-wire fences and brick sheds which lined the horizon. Journalism was supposed to spirit him to civilisation – London, Tokyo, Paris. Instead, he was on his way to a tractor convention, trapped again in the last place he wanted to spend the night.

He hauled his gangly legs up onto the bench, stretching out onto his back. As it did when idle, his right hand instinctively sought his pants pocket, fishing out a BlackBerry™. His thumb automatically scrolled down for the latest messages; there was nothing. No reception. His mind grew restless; his body shivered in the night wind. Perhaps he could give his sister a call when reception kicked in.

The winter chill slashed his bones. His legs were numb from tensing to stay warm. The first flakes of snow fell on his bare face and melted there. He grunted, trying to muster the strength to gather his things and show himself at his sister’s place. His old place, with a blazing fireplace and soft mattress. But in his mind’s eye he saw Nat slam the door in his face, rejecting him as the connecting train did. He collapsed back onto the bench. Not that he blamed her. He reached for his phone, bringing up a list of deliberately missed calls. A gallery of ‘Nat’s. Once a day in the early days, then twice a week, then once a fortnight. The last one six weeks ago. Six sister-less, guiltless weeks – six weeks of silence. Her doorstep would be no more welcoming than this frozen bench.

He dreamt of lost calls, severed connections, six weeks’ worth of Nats floating listlessly in cyberspace.


Crystal Tears
24th August 2008, 12:04 PM
Bigger and slightly more sense making post coming later, I left my USB thing at a friends...

Missed Connections
Inspired by Facade By Disturbed

Thoughts, so varying in direction and order you would think she was going mad. Images of what could have been, what was, and what could happen flashes before her minds eyes yet nothing in there comforted her at all. She was an outcast of her family, she had not finished high school, she had to go to a shrink, and worst of all that now she was questioning her foundation. Was what she had been told and thought wrong after such a long time? Maybe, it was quite possible, but Emily didn’t want to find out. Perhaps it was because the real world frightened her, the idea of being alone and leaving the nest chilled her to the very bone. So many times had she tried and missed, the connection to reality never forming beyond a mere hopeful light.

So now she would burn her own world as she struggled to discover who she was. Emily, a moderate height girl with a few extra pounds looked at either side of the sword with mild attraction. There, as the town burned around her she held the blade of choice; would she swing it one way, or the other? An abstract thought, one she would have to draw eventually, but for now Emily stayed in the fantasy world. Her eyes set upon another woman, and then as she swivelled around, a man. Both were in life threatening situations of having a bandit slice their throats but she couldn’t save both could she?

One or the other, you cannot have both.

Emily, now wearing shining armour like a knight of old, stood there, transfixed. Was one really better than the other? It was possible she was destined for neither, only to be alone in a raging world. Maybe, somewhere deep inside of her dying soul that’s what she wanted, either idea sickened her. It was weakness, and weakness was to be avoiding at all costs. Emily had been weak for all her life and she had paid dearly for it. But now the sword, the shining, glimmering sword was in her hands. The bandits were waiting for her move, what would they do if she chose neither? Would they just let them go?

Even as her heart didn’t want her too, Emily walked away.

Weakness is to be avoided. She thought with a snarl, I will not be weak, never again.

Another missed connection, something she wasn’t sure whether she was happy about or not.

As the fantasy world faded away, she looked into the mirror in the hallway and just gazed at herself. Whatever small part of her heart she had left for her own love disappeared. Alone is what she wanted, and alone is what she would get.

Look inside; see what you have become… A Monster…

24th August 2008, 04:23 PM
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim. Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim. Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim. Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim. Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim. Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim. Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim. Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim. Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim.Ilovedhim

Click. Click. Click.

Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?
Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?
Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?
Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

Click. Click. Click.

I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you. I’ll find you.

24th August 2008, 04:28 PM
"And in this next," He started, slipping his hand in his briefcase. The paper. It was gone! He must've missplaced it when they were exchanging profolio stuff. What would he do- Noooooooo!

Don't be caught missing papers- buy a Pentel Notebook.

24th August 2008, 05:22 PM
Wow, I had no idea how busy I'd be this weekend. Um, this is going to be a really, really short sprint. ^_^;;

Ever hear of senryū? They're like haiku, but with more cynicism and human interest than solemnity and nature.


You sought your partner
Only to discover that
Nobody wants you

24th August 2008, 05:33 PM
Sometimes, staring at a certain spot, you wonder where the people you met, saw, brushed up against today went to. Sometimes, if you can move yourself, and you usually can't, you want to pull yourself from where ever you're sitting and see if you can find them. Flip open that laptop, plug in that P.C and find them. But you don't- you won't. The faces that go by, they'll never know your name, you'll never know why they're out.

You brush against them.

You say sorry, they say sorry, and then you're on your way again. What off it? Sometimes, you don't even ackowlege the touching. Sometimes, they cut you- you cut them. Sometimes you meet people.

Lady Vulpix
24th August 2008, 06:22 PM
Hmm... I have an idea. I've spent the whole weekend working on my thesis, so I might as well share a little bit of it.

"Remember that a CLp-term is a legal pattern if it is linear, it is either a non-application or an application which does not unify with the left-hand side of a Wp rule, and all its proper subterms are patterns.

The first of these requirements is met due to the fact that, by convention, the names of the variables in all patterns (in this case P_1, P_2, Q_1 and Q_2) are different. P_1 »« Q_1 may only contain variables present in P_1 or Q_1 (which are not present in P_2 nor Q_2), while P_2 »« Q_2 may only contain variables present in P_2 or Q_2 (which are not present in P_1 nor Q_1). This means that P_1 »« Q_1 and P_2 »« Q_2 have no variables in common. We also know by induction hypothesis that P_1 »« Q_1 and P_2 »« Q_2 are patterns (and are therefore linear). Hence, (P_1P_2) »« (Q_1Q_2), defined as (P_1 »« Q_1)(P_2 »« Q_2), is also linear.

The second requirement is also met: P_1P_2 is a pattern, and thus it does not unify with the left-hand side of any Wp-rule. By Corollary 17, we know that (P_1P_2)»«(Q_1Q_2) is an instance of P_1P_2. Therefore, (P_1P_2)»«(Q_1Q_2) does not unify with the left-hand side of any Wp-rule.

As for the third requirement, note that every proper subterm of P is a pattern, and any free variables in P can only be substituted in P»«Q by subterms of Q, which are also patterns. The only remaining possibility for P»«Q not to be a pattern would be if a proper prefix of P»«Q unified with the left-hand side of a Wp rule, but this is impossible because, since P is a pattern, all of its applicative prefixes must meet the second requirement, and if two terms do not unify, no instance of either of them can unify with the other."

What's the connection to the subject? Well... I missed it. :P

Gavin Luper
24th August 2008, 10:49 PM

you resisted for so long
as they threw rocks at your head
you convinced yourself
it was confetti

and you didn't see
this is why she hasn't visited lately
this is why he's moving out
you were such a clockwork machine
hellish logical
and yet you missed that:
that's why he's moving out

and it doesn't end at one or two
butterflies follow your car as it screams down the freeway
(as you scream down the freeway)

oh, hellish logical but you missed it:
this is why they want to kick in your head
this is why they would prefer you dead
they'll smash the windows of your house
and set your children on fire

because you're deviant and dangerous
and they need to uphold decency.

Gavin Luper
26th August 2008, 12:23 PM
Well, the writing sprint ended well over 24 hours ago guys.

It looks like the topic was a bit too vague/abstract for some of us (I definitely had a lot of trouble writing about it) but overall, I reckon we all did okay.

Hopefully some of the ideas we create in here will spur on further ideas that might influence our future writings.

Thanks to all for participating. The thread will remain open for any comments, criticisms, or general reviews of other people's pieces (feedback on the sprint itself would be awesome).

Hope to see yous all at the next writing sprint!

Cheers! :lemoncool:

26th August 2008, 08:05 PM
We should do it again. ^_^ It was fun.

26th August 2008, 09:59 PM
*just read this thread*

That looked like a lot of fun! I'd love to join if you did another one of those.

Sasha, yours was amazing. After I read Gavin's description of what a "writing sprint" was (and my curiosity was sated) I was just going to click out of the topic. But then I saw "I hate purple stars" and I had to keep reading. Way to go ^_^

Pikachu-Sensei and Gavin, those poems were depressing. Excellent portrayals of human emotion. But still depressing.

Lady Lupix, Ow. Math hurts. But somehow it's less painful when in pink.

27th August 2008, 05:11 PM
Thanks for not mentioning me what so ever, Eevee-Shayna.

I had a thought, that if we did these again, we should each get seperate topics. Like, there would be three topics, and the topics would be seperated by the people. If there are nine people, you get where I'm going with this. The topics would be send through like private measages, and at the end people would have to guess what the topic was! ^_^ Like a secret Santa...only without Santa!

27th August 2008, 07:57 PM
Thanks for not mentioning me what so ever, Eevee-Shayna.


um.. Houndoom_lover, you sure had a lot of entries that confused me?

28th August 2008, 03:56 PM
Huh? ^_^ Did I? I did have alot of entrys. I'm a quick writer. ^_^ Hahahaha, don't worry, I was just poking fun.