Hello?
well i love writing books so i would love to do a writing contest.

RULES
-do not add swear words or any dirty jokes in any story
-add much describing as possible and details
-there will be a prize for all competitors but some gets small prizes
-at the end of one contest there will be new competitions coming up so be sure to check
-have to write the story according to the theme
-no time extensions
-PING ME

1st round!

1st place GETS 10 000 GOLDS
2nd place (drum rolls).... 6 thousand GOLDS

THEME
Magic
A real life conflict/issue
Anything that includes a walking fish or a talking dog(doesn't have to be major character)

DUE DATE
20th Jan

Competitors
1. Foxee223

bump

Hey, I know the due date has passed, but no one has entered. May I ever anyways, perhaps?

yes ofc i was gonna change the due date anyways

may i join?

here is my story
theme chosen: Magic


All i remembered was; darkness, a light shining through a small hole. could this be the end i thought to myself. "Sharly!"
"Oh My Rivera! Sharly, you woke up." Rivera? where have i heard that word before? And who is Sharly? i slowly opened my eyes, i was in a brown cube with wooden floor. a door was placed in the opposite of me. I was lying in a cozy wool. "hello?" i said while looking around. There was a person, with hands like mine, with foot like mine, and hair just like mine, maybe a little longer. In fact it's hair was a darker color, called black. It had blue eyes, light blue eyes. "Thank Rivera! you are alive Sharly." deep voice, different from the first one. This time another person was looking at me, it had shorter hair than the other one. Blonde hair and green eyes that looked right into mine. I got up, sitting. "Uhm who is this Sharly person?" i asked looking at the two different people. The room was silent for a little while "Sharly? dont you remember?" black haired person twitched its head to one side staring at me carefully. "I think Sharly doesnt rememeber us" the deep voice echoed in my mind. Like if i heard that voice some time ago. "Of course she doesn't" the door slammed open, another person came in. This time it had red hair. "did you all lose your minds?" it spoke in an angry voice again.

"oh well then, I am Lixie" said the black haired person "I am a night fairy" looking at her hair length and voice, she must be female i thought "Hi Lixie. do you know where i am?" Lixie slowly got up, she had a long dress that had the symbol moon on the right side. it was dark blue. Lixie opened her mouth but no sound came, Instead red haired person started to talk. "I am Flaragon, female dragon and your personal guard" she did look like a guard or rather a knight. she had a iron shining armor, red flaming eyes that stared down at me as if she was about to kill me. "Hey! Sharly! dont you remember me?" The last person that was sitting next to me started talking. he looked a little sad, his eyes were shining like emeralds "its me... Isel"
"he is one of our best Knights" Lixie smiled, a little sadness filled her smile but it seemed familiar, somehow. "why wont you look around for a while Princess Sharly. perhaps you might remember" and now i am a princess? unbelievable.

I took a step out of my comfy woolen bed. Some how i was wearing a white long dress, with light blue flowers and pretty golden shoes on my small feet. I had wings of feathers, white long feathers. My wings were numb, i couldn't properly move them. "What am i?" i turned in circles trying to catch my wings. "an angel?" Isel answered "You always thought that Isel, nope you are a swan" Flaragon replied. "oh a swan?" I looked back at everyone with one glance. "Not really, you have the Magic to change what you are" Lixie chuckles in a unsure way. "But its not time to talk about what we are and what we are not! lets go Princess" Flaragon pushed me out the door. it was a small village, cute! people farming, crafting spells, making armors, and of course not to mention horse carriages. Everyone stopped what they were doing, and looked at me. I felt a little uncomfortable, since everyone was staring right into my eyes.

-BREAK- (write some time later)

The theme I will be writing for is magic.

"Mama! Mama, look at me!" A small boy cried as he held up his hands. A bubble of water hovered over his outstretched hands.
The beautiful woman looked at him and smiled. "Very nice, Alec. May I?" She said, reaching out to touch the bubble of water.
Alec nodded and watched his mama gently poke his water bubble. It popped and spilled water all over the little boy. "Ow," he said. Then he made another water bubble from the water in his mama's laundry bucket.
"Alec, what are you doing?" His mama laughed.
"Playing!" Alec replied. He threw his water ball up in the air and then caught it as it fell back towards him. He threw it again, but it landed on his mama.
She squealed as the bubble burst in a torrent of lukewarm water. "Alec!" She exclaimed.
Alec looked up at his mama. But instead of a scolding coming from her mouth, she said, "Alec, wake up!"
Alec shot upright in his bed, knocking his against somebody's above him. "Ow!" He exclaimed.
"You have a very hard head," an elderly voice said.

Editing in progress. This is not complete!

Pinging myself!

I guess my story ideas don't really fit haha... I write a lot of fanfics

You can write your fanfics I just wanna read different ideas haha

A real life conflict/issue (wip - tell me if violence is too detailed.)

A dull orange glow illuminated the room. The sound of shoes against wood echoed throughout the darkened, old room. They were camping out in an abandoned apartment building. Outside, shouts could be heard in the streets. Her brown eyes flashed.
Smash. The sound of shattering glass was inevitable, breaking the deadly silence as the bullet sent raindrops of blood falling down onto the street, continuing forward at rocket speed. A gurgling sound could be heard. His head had been lashed back, the tanned skin slowly fading into white where the hole had appeared, skin twisting into his neck. He took one step back, eyes wide like they were about to pop and veins visible. he hadn't been able to draw in a final breathe when he fell in a heap.

The woman had crimson hair and dark ebony skin. Her eyes shined a bloodlust colour. Muscles made patterns on he thin legs and arms, neck tilted up in pride. A smoking gun was in her grasp, a dark grey that matched her netted fingerless gloves. "Pale Blood" was engraved in silver curly letters. The oak floorboards creaked as she turned, walking out. her expression was emotionless, as if nothing'd happened.

Thoughts twirled through her mind. Why here? it is a slum. A business man here, in an empty flat. She shook her head. No. Questioning is what gets you killed here.
She readied her gun, turning off the safety. It was ready to go off with one touch from her finger. her eyes turned dull with nothing. Emotions were not necessary. She had one job.To serve the empire. To kill the authorities.
She moved quickly, crimson hair tied back behind you. A black stream trailed down the plait. She knocked twice on the bottom done, the reception was broken and destroyed, graffiti pasted the walls in colour where otherwise the paint was stripped off and blank. Spiders were making their homes. She sighed. She didn't have a home. Not anymore, at least.

The door opened, a man dressed in pure black assassin gear was there. he held two curved knives which gleamed silver even through the clouds which the sun hid. She gritted her teeth, everything seemed to hide and hate them, but they didn't understand! They were doing the world good, getting revenge for their ancestors. "Is he dead?" the monotone voice caught her off guard and she began playing with the trigger of the gun as she gave a nod. behind them, a car drew up. She stepped in the second the door opened, the assassin followed.

She didn't put on her seat belt. The car had tinted windows and smelt like rotting sardines, the pungent scent filling her nostrils. She almost choked on it but managed to keep her composure. In the webbed pocket, a pack of tissues and some cleaning equipment lay. She silently took out some gun polish. Using her teeth, she tore off the lid, jerking her head to the side to avoid the alkalic mixture that splashed on the seat from the violence she'd opened the bottle. Dipping the cloth in, she careful took it around the nooks and crannies around the weapon. It shone the same ebony as her skin, dancing in the faded light. She let a small smile slip.

It was like a part of her, an extension to her arm. They were the closest of friends.