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Messages - Letrune

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I think it had a slow start, a fine and steady pace that picked up some speed, but the climax was premature and a bit sloppy. I think you may have been going on a bit long at the end and it may have been made it slip a little off.
I still hope it was good for you. :3

Joke aside, i am not sure the concept near the end held enough merit as it is, but it does make me feel like it is less about masturbation and more about body identity and dysphoria, but that is just me. It is still entertaining on it's own right. :3

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Story Critique / Re: Pamphlet (ritual contest entry)
« on: 12:19 AM, 09/ 6/18 »
Thank you! The vagueness was intended and i do confess I got scared if some bits from the inspiration I used, an actual propaganda piece, would show up and may hurt someone's beliefs. I intended to give more horrid bits in a suggested sense, but I do confess I got scared again and rather cut them out. I felt it would have ruined the effect.
I could have use graphics in hindsight... but this way I did not had to specify the group and keep the vagueness. :3

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Story Critique / Pamphlet (ritual contest entry)
« on: 10:23 AM, 09/ 5/18 »
Dear Believer, these rituals will keep you safe and sound. By joining us, you had joined a big, loving family; you started on a road for a pure life, a blissful afterlife, amd helped building our movement.

If you can not do any of these, then report at your nearest temple, and the Clergy will try their best to help you out. If you are surrounded by the Enemy, recall Sermon 11.1

Your items:
1 miniature altar
1 bottle of Vigilance (red)
1 bottle of Vitality (yellow)
2 bottles of blessed water (blue Mark of Faith)
If you require more of these items, you can see the addendum where you can buy one.

Prayers: You must pray every day at 12 and before sleep at your miniature altar, once every fifth day with a group of Believers. You should pray once after every deed breaking the tenets.

Prayer of Protection: Carve a wooden figure of the Enemy, and throw it in a fire. If you can not start a fire, break it with your hands or a tool by your hand. “My faith is my shield and my god is my fortress; with these I shall endure the hardest of times.” - Sermon 4.1
Prayer of Fertility: Light incense before lovemaking, and make your woman be calm for it. If you need, take one Vigilance and drink some blessed water of it. Giving birth should happen with an ordained doctor’s presence, or at home. “Be as of the womb, ready and fruitful; the weeds of the Enemy will never stand in the way of the sickle of Faithful.” - Sermon 23.3
Prayer of Glory: If you would go to combat or need more power, pray before battle and take two Viligances and one Vitality. You will be absolved for any crime done, as the holiness will guide your hands doing this. “As swords and cannons, the hands of Ei Dhun had broke the Enemy, until there was no more.” - Sermon 11.3

Every day before eating, at least once, take one Vitality and drink some wine. It can be done any time. If you are at a foreign land, do not use their water or drinks, unless you filtered them over and had a Clergy member bless it. Best is to avoid the land where the Enemy stepped on, no matter how good it seems, until it is blessed.

Every firstborn is to be given to the Clergy. They will make sure that the Enemy will be at bay, so celebrate their sacrifice, and don’t feel sad for it. Your sons will fight them, and your daughters will perform holy duties under the eyes of the Clergy.

The Enemy and how to defeat it:
The Enemy is easily found out - they deny the divine wisdom of the Clergy and your Faith. True Believers will not consider it, but the Enemy tries to weaken you with lies and evil wordgames. You shall not tolerate it and harden your mind for it. They are often weak willed and resistant, but the truth will liberate their minds if you are Vigilant.

The Enemy spreads their evil propaganda; to elude their delusion, get all your telecommunication devices between 1300 and 3500 KHz. Only listen and follow to information given by members approved by the Clergy. If you find misinformation planted by the Enemy in any news source, alert the Clergy, for theirs is the wisdom. Do not listen to the Enemy, for they bring down all intellect.

The Enemy controls most of institutions, like hospitals and schools - you can not trust them. Nobody of your family should listen to them or use their services, as that is how the Enemy erodes your faith and destroys you.

The Enemy is numerous, and so must you be - every man must father at least two child, and every women must give birth to as many as they can, before their wombs dry. If one man can not father that many, consider calling the Clergy for help in the situation.

If the Enemy noncombatant shows up before your door, fake kindness and invite them in, learn their motives, and then consider if you can turn them towards the truth. If they are violently reacting, or hesitant, get ready for defending yourself.  The Enemy is not human, so you can kill them with abandon, but should avoid their disease-ridden, cursed blood. Their blood is foul, so it is to be burned.

The way of life:
As it is detailed in the Sermons, you should always keep the rules (see Sermon 7.1). You shall fight the Enemy in any way you can, so our god-ordained way of life can survive their relentless attacks. You will be happy and your life plentiful, if you but keep these simple rules:

1. Pray every noon and every night.
2. Do not kill or steal from any Believer.
3. The Clergy is the voice of our god and people.
4. Marry and be plentiful as early as you can.

You are among friends and family and if you got any questions, you can always ask a Clergy member. Never forget - the godly powers are on our side and we will live in harmony, if we win over our Enemies.

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Story Critique / Re: Chickens (rough draft)
« on: 01:14 AM, 04/12/18 »
I kind of excepted this turn, but it was done pretty well. :3 I liked the story; maybe I am just a bit confused on the ditch's depth.
I still liked the character interactions the most, you could give  them distinct voices, like Jimmy. :3

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Story Critique / Re: Untitled sci-fi horror thing
« on: 11:49 PM, 02/25/18 »
Whoo boy! Part of me wishes to make a few lottle shoutouts, from The Programmed Man to Fallout 4, yet i can not really get something constructive out. I liked the story, it caught something in me.
At best i can say I am a little confused and that is what scares me in this. It is a bit awesome and a bit creepy on how the viewpoints is still kept "in". :3

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Story Critique / Re: Riddles
« on: 02:27 AM, 02/19/18 »
Thank you! I am always thinking that people here work with constructive criticism, so it is fine. :3
I confess i had no real idea where this will end, I just started and had a sort of metariddle in my mind. Guess I failed to get it across. :/ However, the poems were meant to be antiquated and kind of weird. They are written on a margin, so spacing is not the best.

Formatting tips are welcome - I never tried isuch ever, so I guess i could redo in the way you shown. :3 i just had this dream where i found an old book and got curious to find more poems and riddles on the margins.
You think it would benefit from a total rewrite? Like, removal of commentary and more shorts in it, little addons by the narrator here and there on their own idea on making a few themselves?

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Story Critique / Riddles
« on: 04:45 AM, 02/12/18 »
My grandparents had left a small house on me, and i found these weird poems on the sides of a book my grandparents kept in a locked cabinet. I tried my best to transcribe the contents.

In dark nights i wander on old roads,
Search on the roofs and dance with the moons,
I had seen evil and good among the same people,
How a choice changes their very souls.
They never saw me. They never thought of me.
Can you guess what am i?

He saw the man grow and fall. He made and torn down, he freed and slaved. When he got better, he grew worse. Who he may be?

In your dreams you see new worlds and open up yourself. You never felt so free, but then you go back. I miss you my friend
(missing part)sole love.

I was trying to find out the meaning behind these. The handwriting does not match my grandparents'.

With a heavy heart and clouded mind,
Bellepheron had rode out,
With a beaming smile so kind,
Europe waited on.

The dance of his enticed me. Oh such musculature!
It made me try and understand him, the drinker of the black gold,
Who had shown me a new world. What was his name?


Poems and riddles march on the sides of the old tome, papers slid between pages. I want to know who made these.

Slithering, slimy groaning bloodless thing.
Made of ash and wooden splinters.
Belches smoke and tries to choke me,
Yet, you eat him when you falter.


It all shakes my insides with anticipation.

Ah Hades, why you took me? I want to see the sunlight again.
You know he will weep for me please reconsider (this one ends on the bottom of a page)

Wall-builder, wild-tamer, god-slayer, man-maker, lover, hater, worker, ruler, man, king, god, divine. His name?


I get answers to non-existent questions. I feel like I should add some more...

Living in mystery, on the side of a world
Between man and beast,
Never have had a good rest
Between dawn and dusk,
Had been nowhere yet seen all,
Yearning after their love.
What am I?

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Your Stories / Re: Scaredy-Cat
« on: 07:50 AM, 02/ 9/18 »
I don't know. It seems like a really normal thing for me. I mew be biased.

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Story Critique / The first experiment
« on: 12:02 AM, 02/ 1/18 »
(I am sure this story exists out there in a way. If anyone can point out that i unintentionally ripped someone off, please slap my wrists and i will delete this one. I am not wanting to be a copycat or an art thief.)

He did not knew when it all started. One day he just found hmself in nothing.
As in, nothing around ever. He could move as much as he wanted and scream as much, but there was nothing. No colour, no matter, not even echoes of his own functions.
He looked everywhere. He feared he had gone insane. He grew angry and demanded to know his crimes. He sobbed but had no tears. After a long while, he... grew bored. All the time in the world, amd he only could verify his own existence and thoughts.
He tried to find out how he got here but could not recall. He tried to think why he is here - again, nothing. He tried to reason his prison out - no floor he felt, no walls, no light, no sounds. He was not floating - that would require air and there is none.
He was not even sure he had a body any more.

Heis boredom grew as he desperately tried to recall how he came here. Anythig he recalled. He identified as male, no idea why and what sognificance it was to him. Not that he could hold his own body - there wasn't any way to verify. He tried to remember if he had anyone in his life but... did he even had a life? None he had. Not a single detail about himself, not even a name. He tried to come up with one but gave up. Why have any if there is nobody to call your name?

Timeless time went on and he grew beyond suffering. His mind devised plans, what would his life be if he could be free. He played and imagined worlds - he had time to daydream. Time was all he had. In fact, he started to devise ways to measure time, as a desperate and admittedly futile excercise.
He dreamt up a world for himself to be in. Walk, eat, drink, love and be loved. He knew he could do it... just knew it.
So why not try a little experiment? Even if he hadbeen prisoned, as long as one can say they are free, they are, right? It is not like anyone would stop him. Just.. imagine a world... a lovely sunlight, endless oceans, majestic vistas. Fly! Be like air itself, embrace it all. Meet people, amazing creatures, grand flora. He dreamt more and more. He dreamt how his world would be. It ran without him and all he had to do was... to dream it.

And his experiment grew. He knew how  it all would work. Time at his hand, he thought on chances and laws. An entire universe... all from his mind. Just a simple step to enjoying... to live. He felt ready. Gathering all his power and the senses he had, all the power he had, he spoke into the emptyness.
"Let there be light!"

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Your Stories / Re: One Sentence Pastas
« on: 02:23 AM, 01/22/18 »
If they ever come out of that door again, fill it with concrete, I don't care whose grandparents they are.

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Fleming Storage Units WIPs / Re: Screaming Into The Void
« on: 04:50 PM, 11/12/17 »
Whelp... i am empty. #33 did my initial idea btetter, so i would feel like a weak copy, and i got no idea how to make my nonsense make sense.... i got no idea what to do. Any ideas, please?

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Fleming Storage Units WIPs / Fleming Storage Unit #13
« on: 05:40 PM, 11/ 5/17 »
Working title: Pastiche of Proust
Everything is flexible. Total chaos until I work out what I want to even do here. Lector did not seen it.


Fsu #13
Item - printer/scanner
Word - Branch
Wiki - Cranberry
-----

Back in my girlhood, I had my grandmother in Harve. I had inherited a keyring with a dozen or so keys on it from my grandmother.


Inspector MooMoo’s was just as I remembered…
Asking for some milk and a plate of cookies, i took place at a free seat and looked on the noir “radio drama theatre”. It was… Familiar but as a girl, it flew over my head. Nibbling on the cookies, I felt as how Proust could have with his madeilene(?), as the memories flooded me.
Summer 1984? 85? I don’t know. Granny took me there and she made me sit at a table right in sight of the kitchen, and i got this gigantic plate of cookies. I was just a kid, barely ten, so it seemed huge, and I enjoyed them, just like now. Granny went to swap recipes (her cranberry pies were a taste to behold, even if you, like me, hated any of those greenstuff), and the show was on. I remember I was not really minding it but making up my own misguided mysteries - case of missing cats whom slipped to another world and such. Kid stuff… And i loved it. It inspired me… My Granny and MooMoo had inspired me to be a writer. Not a succesful one… but one at least.



I got to the storage unit - 13, my lucky number. It had a few old crates (full of old dresses and shoes - i just had to see if any would fit me), a set of tires, an inflatable elephant, a big locked metal box, and… I had seen some familiar plastic treasure chests… Checking them I found plenty of old toys and books, and took another trip down memory lane.
Here came the dolls, Marie, Julie, Diana, all graceful in their frilly dresses. How you do, ladies? “Oh, we do great, thank you…” The ladies and the plastic/wooden teaset had to come with me. They were my only real friends till high school… I dug in the box more to see if their homemade dresses were still there..

Oh my… Tim the Tiger! I recalled him - he was my favouritest toy! He was just a plush tiger, dime a dozen type, but for me… He was the protector of my dreams, a gentle cat and a real hero! “Who dares to disturb my princess? Roaaar! Away, evildoers!” I giggled, and hugged him, feeling the odd tingle on how those three meters waned into 50 centimetres as I grew up.

Awww, the old books… Golden Books and Illustrated Myths and many many old tomes of fables and stories. Two boxes of my toys and books - no way some random person gets these! Even if i got to carry these myself over the ocean, I will! I mean, there is an airport, so this was just….
...well, this is odd. A printer machine. I never recalled Granny having any computers or something… Maybe my uncle had it and just shoved into the storage unit. Odd and strange. It did not fit… And it clicked like how a detective got the clues. There must be something hidden in it, like the recipe of her cranberry pies! Or a dozen silver coins! Or… I could not think of a third thing, but I had managed to open it to reveal…
...Just a plain old printer. No treasure, no hidden map, no secret for the little girl in my heart. Well, i mean, this is how it works, reality is not a dramatic story…

Grandmother had this locked metal miniature box. It was small, faded silver and had an odd keyhole. It was easy to find which key I needed and coud open it with this satisfying click. I knew in me that this is just another old heirloom, but I was trembling when I saw The Medals.
Grandfather was gone before I could remember. Granny always told how he was a brave man, a soldier we could be proud of as he defended us all from the evils of the world. I was just a kid but I was drinking up her tale, fictional or real, and imagined him like those soldiers on TV - strong body, angled jaw, shining eyes, a cigar in mouth and a two- or three-starred metal helm, fighting the guys in black and gray. In my mind, he was the one who fought from D-Day to Berlin, never thinking about how off i was… But Granny always shown me the medals. One red-yellow, one yellow-blue and one red-white-green. I never understood them but it felt like super important and the way she presented them, like a big secret nobody ever should know, was a big thing.
Then i grew up and learnt about history, the mythical, action-movie inspired soldier fading into the unwilling, young man who fought in battles he never knew the importance off. The evils of the black-and-gray baddies with their cartoonish villain turned into just as terrified and unwilling soldiers, France’ rolling hills became the jungles of Vietnam or the hills of Korea, and the glory of the battle became a simple fight of attrition and a mere chess game between two gigantic powers, whom could have blown the world up. Not even Tim could have saved me from that kind of monster they kept at bay…

But the medals… they meant something. I closed the box as if my gaze would be unworthy of them any more. I just… I just don’t know why I did. Seemed wrong to do it in an old storage unit, under the light of a bare bulb. I had tosee them on a better light I guess.

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Fleming Storage Units WIPs / Re: Master List of Summaries
« on: 05:38 PM, 11/ 5/17 »
Sure points on #13 - was owned by a local family. Inherited by a lady living abroad, who returns after got the letter.
No ideas set in stone yet.... No idea what to go with.

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Story Critique / Re: Trick or treat contest entry
« on: 05:34 PM, 11/ 5/17 »
What would be a proper way to use them?

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Story Critique / Trick or treat contest entry
« on: 11:27 AM, 11/ 3/17 »
I wish to know what I could have done better. It could help my further writing, so, please be helpful and I hope you will enjoy it. :3

Good treats: Mental Abuse, Mask(s), Stabbing, and Lucifer
"Meh" snacks: Outer Space, Music, and Wheelchair
Gross candy!: A Pie Fight, edible underwear

An entry from Letrune

--------
“Mind if I smoke?” Uthar asked as he sat down at the table. I shook my head absentmindedly as he lit the cigarette and peeked over the monitoring equipment.
“What is going on with our little research?”
“13 is busy trying to make a mask for herself. Why she picked a man’s face, I don’t know.”
“Wants to be one?”
“No. She is content as she is… At least at home. Thought patterns all nominal.”
Uthar smothered the cig on the ashtray and flicked his monitors on. Some minutes passed, while I could see 13 get on her special wheelchair. The boys from Mechanics made a great job to make one befitting a standard to 13’s unique predicament… I remember what High Command wrote.
“Experiment 13 was stabbed two times in the left rear. Braces could suffice, yet you made a specialized wheelchair. Please explain in clear word what demands this usage of resources.
Note: we won’t accept “she likes it better”. The boys on Nexus 24A had already used it in this quarter and produced an alloy more useless than edible underwear. Despite all our technology, we do not have actual infinite resources.”
We replied with a bio-psychological response of the locals and how the braces restricted her actual movements.

So, she got on the thing we call wheelchair - two frames around the legs, padded on the inside, with the wheels being three metal balls for maximized movement potential. She only needed one but the two made her able to strafe if required. She seemed busy checking herself in the mirror and trying on the mask.
“Why the mask?” Uthar asked. “Did i missed something?”
“Some local tradition. They go around their area and ask for some kind of a pie, made from whatever they eat.”
“13 wants to go native.”
“Kind of.”
Some silence as we seen her leave the quarters and go into the late afternoon. One of the suns were on the low equatorial cycle, while the other one was setting.
“Reminds me of that Fifth Worlder tradition I read of.” I said, only to make conversation while we followed 13 via the cameras and security drones. “That is about… Uh… I am sure I say it wrong. Lux Iferis, the Lightbringer. People left some incense offering on an altar, and that became some sort of a party later, where people grab an electric torch and walk around the unlit areas. I only remember that it is often combined with a treasure hunt for the kids.”
“I got no idea of my own World’s cultural heritage, let alone other’s.” Uthar muttered. “Coffee? You seem to be on a vigil.”
“I’m good. She stops anywhere?”
“Not as i see. Can we get audio transcripts?”
I kicked myself to the other side of the room and grabbed the coiling transcript tape.
“Let’s see… Oh.” Uthar hummed in a questioning tone. “They tell her to get lost in various ways.”
“Should I send a secdrone?”
“No, it is all verbal so far. They seem to talk down on her and her outer space friend.”
“The f--”
“No, not our drones. The night time singing one.”
“...The fact that she sings is a problem now? These shri-- locals all communicate with singing and membrane colourization!”
“She is closer to us than to them. That is enough.”
Silence. Uthar broke it after a while.
“So… She stopped somewhere. Locals do something.”
“They call her to their doorstep but say she can not step on.”
We looked on the monitors, seeing how she started to balance on her wheels. Her spine was in an uncomfortable angle, but she managed to balance herself and roll to the doorstep.
“Clever girl.” Uthar said and lit another cigarette. “Well, she got a pie! Seems pr-”
We sat in a sudden silence as they slammed the pie in 13’s face. Something like a laugh wanted to start in me, but they slammed more and more pies in her face and threw some on her. Uthar grabbed the translator’s transcript.
“They call this a music of joy?  Tricking her into some stupid task and---”
He stopped and we seen her stumbling away, mask left behind.
“Are we authorized to command secdrones in non-physical abuse?” I said, somehow containing the anger.
“Sadly, we are not… But I will file a report.”

13 ran home, closed the door and slumped down. For a few moments, she seemed very human, despite the biological differences.  She mewled her song towards the “Outer Space Friend”, stumbling across words and trailing off.
“Well… Uthar, I get Command. You do your stuff.”
“One divine intervention coming up.” he said, moving to the soundproofed booth. I sent the data to Command and listened in on the situation… Well, more like read the translation. Uthar had used his Third Worlder accent very well, even if he had to produce a singing groan and chimes with his voice. He assured 13 that “it” had still cared for her and that pain strengthens the will. “It” was listening and knew all, and as such, got her a compensation ready. All she had to do was to remain in her room and not to look out, no matter what.
All she knew was that she suddenly got a divine voice speak into her ears, both literally and figuratively. We did it often, to reassure her, make her feel better, or just to make her care for herself.
Only once we had to punish her, when she tried to chew off her hurt leg. After a dosage of painkillers, she still tried, so Uthar shouted in her ear. She seemed to be afraid of “it’s” anger, so never did anything we told her not to do.

Uthar walked out.
“Well, the Great and Powerful wizard did it once again.” I said, and he smiled.
“You should get some proper sleep. Caffeine and meds make you awake but you will be older.”
“That is not true.”
“Crankier, then. Besides, who heard of an outer space voice in the medbay?”
“And who heard of an outer space voice with a chain smoking problem?”
“I can’t argue with that… Say. Can we try to include that… Lux Iferis at some time. I am thinking a ball of light.”
“Gustavus at Engineering could make something.”

Silence again, minutes pass as we see 13 dress down and slump on the bed, humming the tune for her only friend.
“Think she could accept that the divine voice is actually a few socio-cultural scientists?” I asked.
“You are too tired.” Uthar replied with a playful tone. “I think none could fathom how different we run things. Might break them more than anything.”
“At times, I wonder… Are we doing any good? These locals were at each others’ throat and our machines stopped them from killing each other. Two sapient species on one planet… And we force them to accept each other.”
Uthar looked on me and sighed.
“Just get some sleep already. You are dozing off between your words.”
I got up and walked to the sleeping room. We exchanged our goodnights and I could see Mevlak, my night-time operator, jumping up from her cot.
“I thought you do a double shift and they pay me to be bored…” she giggles and patted me on my shoulder. “You should take care of yourself, all right?”
“Nah, I thought I will take your job too. Imagine, twice the reports!”
We laughed as Mevlak went to the observation area and I laid down. Music started from the other direction - someone else might have got bored too. I plugged my phones in to listen to my tunes and slowly drifted to sleep. One thought came to me, washing off the feelings of the day: It is not easy being gods.

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