Calle is a Contest Moderator.

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7 days ago
Current Last day of voting!
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9 days ago
With 3 votes in our voting&feedback round we have a tie. It's a good thing we have two more days of voting :)
14 days ago
Less than 24 hours before the deadline! Check out the sidebar for the link to the contest.
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22 days ago
Last day to get those votes in! We've got artists and writers anxiously waiting whose entry will win and you can help decide!
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28 days ago
One week left to vote for your favourite story and/or work of art.
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Bio

Hello everyone. I'm Dutch, a mother of a 6-year old boy and I love both rp-ing and writing. Since May 2020 I'm one of the contests mods.

I started with writing Dutch stories in 2002, I was already 19 at that time. I joined a writing competition and that got me started. Soon I started to write down all the stories my over-active imagination came up with. I had my first forum rp experience in 2003 on a Dutch fantasy forum. While I continued to write, I stopped rp-ing when the particular rp and forum slowly died. In 2011 my love for rp's rekindled when I joined a site with a forum and I started to RP solely in English since that is the language of the site. This is also when I wrote my first story in English.

I've got a few 1x1 rp's going on this site and a couple more an another site. I've always been a fan of writing competitions and I joined a lot several of the ones that were hosted on this website. Now I get to host them myself and really enjoy that too.

I have a bachelor degree in nutrition and dietetics and I have worked as a dietitian / kitchen administrator in a nursing home until I decided to quit to become a full-time mother + writer.

When you come here to check if I'm online, know that even when I show as online I might not be able to respond to RP's. I open this site so that when I have time I can spend some time here, but I don't always end up with the time to do so.

Most Recent Posts

Microfiction and poetry contest #4





What is the goal?
The Microfiction and Poetry Contest is more of a writing exercise than a contest, but there will be a voting round at the end. The aim for this writing contest doesn’t have to be a story with a beginning-middle-end like we do in the RPGC’s, although it may be and it’s a challenge in itself to tell a story in very few words.
This contest aims to be a lot broader. You are free to experiment with literary and poetic devices, explore different types of poetry or zoom in on a literary technique. Go with something you know, practice the things you feel could use some work, or try something new.
Feel like some purple prose? Make it as purple as you can. Always wanted to toy with alliterations? Now is your chance. Want to try a 6-word-story? It’s within the word count limits. Funny dialogue, sonnets, haiku’s, … The only limit is the word count. This is for short pieces in which you can practice or show off writing techniques or styles.
Another thing about this contest is equally important to know: this is more in line with free-writing than it is with planning and plotting: you only have one week to submit something. It doesn't have to be perfect, but I hope to see some unique and creative takes on the prompt, which you can read below in the contest rules.

Core rules:
  • At all times follow the Fundamental Rules of the Guild and the Moderation Policy for Forum Contests.
  • After reading the above this should be obvious: No plagiarism and respect copyright laws.
  • Your submission must be written by you and specifically for this contest.
  • This is a place for original fiction, no fanfiction allowed.
  • No explicit sex, but you may fade to black.
  • No excessive violence or gore.
  • Don’t forget to subscribe to this thread. You will receive updates on the contest and on the number of entries, and reminders about the deadline here. I will not PM them.
  • The winner of this contest will be honoured in our Hall of Fame.


Contest rules:
  • The prompt for this contest is based on the Chinese New Year: Ox.
  • There will be a minimum word count of 5 and a maximum of 500
  • Any literary or poetry style is permitted.
  • Please PM @Calle the entries and give it as title MFP#4 - (Your Title).
  • Your entry can be anonymous or carry your name. Let me know what you want in the PM. If you don't specify, your entry will be posted anonymously, but you may always claim your story during or at the end of the voting round.
  • The deadline is February 23th, 9:00 CET, which is 8:00 game time (both times are in a.m.)





Entries so far: 2
Winner of RPGC #30: Celestial Lights



God Is Great by @V a s h


Syria

Faariq wiped the sweat from his brow and waited. He watched patiently, moving slowly as one of his friends, Jaamil, managed to break away from an opposing player. Jaamil skillfully handled the ball, and pressed forward. After so many nights like this one, Faariq and Jaamil had come to know what the other was thinking before they acted.

The kid who was supposed to be watching Faariq had a mental lapse. It was a brief thing, where Faariq noted the boy's feet were misplaced, and the distance between himself and Faariq was too far. Faariq pounced upon the moment, and surged forward as fast as he could. He kicked up dust from the dirt beneath his feet, breathing heavily. He could hear the opposing team declare their desperate warnings.

But, it was too late. Jaamil knew what to do, and sent his pass away right where it needed to be.

Faariq received the pass, and watched the goalie. It was one on one, but Faariq had all the momentum. The ball screamed off of Faariq's kick, and it whizzed between two rusted trash cans. Game over. Goal.

Faariq and Jaamil met up together, catching their breath, but smiling. The rest of their friends joined in, slapping fives and laughing. All the boys wanted to play one more game, but their fathers who provided light in the night with their cars would not allow it. There was school tomorrow, after all. The boys did not disobey their fathers, as was God's will.

One by one, the boys went to their respective cars and left. Faariq said goodbye to Jaamil, and when he was the last boy on the dirt field he went over to the silhouette of his father lit up by the truck. Except, when he got closer, Faariq knew this man was not his father. It was his uncle.

"Uncle Kaabir?" Faariq said, feeling uncertain as he always did around his Uncle. Kaabir was a stern and quiet man, devoted to Allah in a manner that shrouded him in a cloak of intensity.

Kaabir blew out a stream of smoke, tossed his cigarette to the ground, and put it out.

When Kaabir said nothing at all, Faariq spoke once more. "Where is my dad?"

"Come." Kaabir said.

Faariq obeyed. He moved with the intention of going to the front seat of his uncle's pickup truck but Kaabir denied him this. There was another man in the front seat, a man that Faariq did not know well but had seen with Kaabir and his father in the past. His uncle pointed to the truck's bed. Faariq climbed up, full of questions that received no answers. Faariq wanted to say more, to ask more, but his father had instilled in him a strict obedience to elders, especially to him, and also to men like Kaabir.

The drive went longer than usual. Getting home was usually a journey of no longer than fifteen minutes, but an hour had passed. Faariq had no choice but to look up at the clear sky, listening to the truck's engine, and contemplating every star in the dark night above.

Where was his father? Why had his uncle not answered? Where were they going?

The silence invaded his thoughts, and turned his stomach over the hot coals of nervousness. Before Faariq could truly be overwhelmed by his fears, the truck stopped and his uncle got out. Kaabir told the other man to stay.

"Come." Kaabir said to Faariq for the second time that evening.

Faariq followed. His uncle had taken him past the edge of what Faariq knew as home. Here was pitch darkness, lit only by the truck's lights and the heavens. He continued behind his uncle's trail until Kaabir stopped well beyond their road. It was just Faariq, his uncle, and the desert wilderness around them. The vast scenery and darkness made Faariq feel alone, and his fear swelled once more before being quelled by the strength of Kaabir's voice.

"Do you know why I am here?"

Faariq wondered to himself. What did his uncle expect him to say? "No," he spoke hesitantly. Then, thinking of his father again, he tried to ask about him, but his question was cut off by the raising of Kaabir's hand.

"Do not lie to me, Faariq. You do know why I am here."

"I did not-"

"Silence, boy." Kaabir did not shout, but he spoke so firmly that Faariq dared not raise his voice again.

His uncle turned to face him, meeting his eyes. In that gaze was a power so solemn and grave that Faariq felt no choice other than to relent, making himself stare at his own feet.

"No." Kaabir said. "Look me in my eyes like a man."

Faariq continued to look at his feet, but then did as he was told.

"Good." Kaabir said after a moment of staring. "It is good for you to look a man in his eyes, nephew. Do not let me, or anyone else break your will, no matter how volatile a situation can get. You may be a boy now, but you will soon be a man." He paused. "Now, I know you lied to me. You know why you are here, because you felt it in your stomach for as long as we drove here. Am I correct?"

Faariq, unsure, but feeling as if he understood, nodded.

"Yes, but you do not yet know how to voice what you feel. This is the boy's way, but it is not good enough for the man's way. You felt fear, Faariq. Do you disagree?"

Faariq shook his head.

Kaabir nodded. "It was death, nephew. You felt the fear of death. It twisted your belly into knots. It put the entirety of the world in your chest. It made your heart beat heavily, and clogged your throat to the point you felt the need to scream out for release."

Faariq began to feel that same fear again. Death, cold to the touch and devoid of understanding. Death simply was, and there was no arguing with its hand. He thought of his questions. Of his father. He wanted to look away from his uncle's intense gaze, but he forced himself through his discomfort. His cheeks were hot, his heart was weighted, and his eyes felt the still unrevealed prospect of sorrow.

"Yes." Kaabir said.

It was an answer. Faariq knew what that answer was. A confirmation to his worst fear, and the realization tore away at his presentation of calm. He tried to fight against the tide of sadness, but he failed to prevent the tears from falling. Faariq attempted to choke down a sob. He failed.

Faariq expected Kaabir to remain as he always thought of him. Aloof. Distant. But, his uncle opened his arms.

"Come." Kaabir said for the third time that night, but this time he lead his nephew to his arms.

His uncle hugged him. Faariq sobbed into his uncle's chest, letting his sorrow run freely, and hotly down his cheeks. The pair stayed that way for a while. Kaabir said nothing except for the comfort and solace of a familial embrace.

When Faariq could shed no more tears, his uncle released him. Kaabir rested his hands on his nephew's shoulders. "Is it out of you?"

Faariq weakly nodded.

"I am sorry to bring you this news. But it is good you feel this way about your father. He is my brother, and I feel the same. I already miss him. It is like a hole in your heart, yes? A hole in your life?"

"Yes." Faariq said as his uncle wiped away one of his tears.

Kaabir looked away from Faariq's eyes, and aimed his sight to the skies. Faariq did the same. The world above them was alight with wonder and starlight. It was hard for Faariq to admire its beauty, and dream upon its visions like he would with his friends late into the night during the months where school was no longer in session. His pain was too fresh, and dreams felt more distant than ever.

"How," Faariq began, conjuring the strength to speak, "how did he die?"

"He died like a warrior." Kaabir said with little doubt. "He died like a man. A good man. Never let anyone else tell you otherwise. Tomorrow, tonight, it is of no matter. You may hear the papers, or the heads on the televisions speak of tragedy. They will speak of violence and terrorism. Know this, Faariq. They lie. Of our home, everyone respected your father. You have seen it for yourself, yes?"

Faariq knew this to be true. People were deferent to his father. They always spoke to him with absolute respect and admiration.

"It is the mark of a man with honor. A man of God. For only a man of God can navigate this strange world, with all its chaos, and all its cruelties. To be a man is to dedicate yourself to something beyond yourself, and your father was such a man. I want you to know that there will be many who will tear down your father's name, but they will only do so because it is the 'safe' thing to do. They do not want to create unsteady waters. They fear the waves of conflict, even when conflict is necessary."

His uncle's words gave Faariq comfort. He took solace in those words, that his father was brave, that his father was hero. A hero! He was the son of a hero! Is that not what boys dreamed of?

Kaabir pulled Faariq close, arm around his nephew, hand on his shoulder. "Look." He pointed. "Look at those stars above us. Look at that vast sky! The heavens shine! Do they not? God is good. God is great! Praise Allah, the Lord of all lords! Even now your father looks upon us. He is one of those shining stars now, a guiding light for you, for me, for all of our people, the people who choose to truly follow the path of Allah."

The passions of his uncle stirred Faariq's soul. He could see now, even on a night as dark as this that the light of the heavens were luminous. No matter how dark the shroud of this world could become, the essence of the divine still shines. His father was there, in that vast chasm of the divine unknown, where man could not tread until he stepped beyond the bounds of life. His father was there, shining, watching, a beacon for God's glory.

"God is great." Kaabir said.

Faariq wiped away the last of his tears. "God is great."
TDAC #3 - Celestial Lights







by @Stormflyx
It looks like we have a tie between By Which The Stars Are Hung and God Is Great. Which means we need a tie-breaker vote.
And you two are not making this easy for me.

Both stories are about death and loss. Someone died and the main character lost someone dear to them. Both stories also leave us with questions that are never answered and leave room for a part 2 that we would all like to read. (Maybe a continuation can be written for another RPGC?)
I just want to say they're both good stories. While there are some similarities in themes, they are different in execution, and therefore it's not easy to determine a winner.

By Which The Stars Are Hung has wonderful imagery; it's a powerful, emotional and eloquent piece. The descriptions throughout are beautiful and the emotions are strong. This is a high-quality story.
I'm assuming he's at his daughters grave because of the mention of freshly turned earth and not able to look ahead, but later there is also mention of grief held back too long, so it's not easy to determine how long ago she died.
His implied death and heart-attack is definitely a powerful part of this story and how it's described was amazing, but it also raises questions. Was he grieving for so long his heart gave up? Where there underlying medical conditions and was this sudden loss too much for him? With the unclear timeline and little background information, it feels as if this death just happens for no apparent reason. In a story it's not only important to describe things in a way to captivate the reader, but also to suspend the disbelief of the readers.
And the ending: the Norse mythology came out of nowhere, and while it was an intriguing twist no-one saw coming, there is also nothing done with it. It doesn't change the understanding of the story; with or without the part of the deep voice that suddenly spoke we still have a story about a man who grieves over his dead astronaut daughter.
But wow, this story was beautifully written.

God Is Great is placed in Syria with a simple mention, but that in itself doesn’t say much about the setting without knowing when it takes place. The story could have benefited from a bit more setting of the scene in the beginning; a mention of Faariq forgetting his worries for a moment because of the game, or some physical evidence of armed conflict as they drive away. Or something else that hints at problems in the country. Even with that, the death of the father will still be a surprise, because the way it’s written the reader is as clueless as Faariq as to what is going on.
In the end we don’t know if Faariq’s father is good or bad and what role the uncle plays in it all, but we can sympathize with Faariq and his sorrow and the comfort he receives from his stern uncle and his religion.

My vote is for God Is Great. And I will update the Hall of Fame later today.
With 4 votes Starry Eyes is the winner of this contest. Congratulations!
I will update the museum soon with the latest entry.
"Humans would react pretty much like Gavin did," Michael said. "But don't worry, I'm sure StarFall will still be a great celebration." He glanced around. "Everyone seems to be having a good time. I am worried about you though." He had a frown in his forehead. "Are you okay with the news? With being replaced?" He glanced to Gavin, who had already shown how he felt about it.

"Thank you," Lytse said as he put his paw against Bia's paw. "I'm called Lytse," he introduced himself. "At least, that is the name Michael gave me. My mother called me Ruma..." he paused as he glanced to his trainer, who was talking with Niccia. "Maybe I should tell him, but Pokémon always adopt the name their trainer gives them as their own..." He played a bit with one of the berries, rolling it around on the plate with his paw.

"I put on my finest sweater," Tanter grinned as he stroke the warm fabric. Since their father was going to catch up with Nygari, Tanter decided to talk with Heatran for a while; the fellow fire-type could be grumpy at times, but he got along with him just fine.

"She's adorable," Ezzar said as she watched Sparky doze off, before turning to the two women. "It's so nice to see you two again. How have you been?"

"So formal, Nygari," Netherlu sighed, frowning slightly as he examined her and noticed the lack the eye-contact. "Everything okay with you? You're not mad at me for being late, right?"
Had they agreed on a time? He didn't think they had, just that he would meet them here. He hadn't wanted to arrive this late of course.

"Nice to meet you," Mindy said to Koriga and she turned to Xapher. "So, ehm, the food. Is it a buffet or do we eat together at the table?" She craned her neck to see where it was, as she saw some Pokémon munching on a berry as the walked past them.

Andy flashed a smile at Varina before turning his attention to Dialla. "Well, maybe another we can hear about one your adventures then, but... I actually have no idea how Kanto people... Kantonians?" he shrugged, it didn't really matter. "I don't know how they view their legendaries, but us... Rhandonians? Rorians?" He frowned as he thought about the proper term for people from the island, or the island group. "We really need to have a meeting to decide how we call ourselves," he muttered, but made a dismissive motion with his hand and shook his head - that didn't matter now. "We don't have any legendary Pokémon ourselves," he continued as he turned his attention to Dialla again. "The only legends we have are about average Pokémon really. Rainbow Cyndaquil is one, and Volcarona is revered as almost a legendary on one of the islands. So our standing with Legendary Pokémon is less formal, as our Legends are Pokémon we can see on a daily basis."
"Nothing for you then?" the woman asked impatiently as she looked at Ray. "You can at least say 'no thank you' if you don't want anything instead of ignoring me." She gave Benjamin his tea and lingered a moment longer to wait for Ray's answer.

Benjamin took the tea and thanked her for it, smiling as he did.

The next cart started its round: the medicine cart. Benjamin kept an eye on it as the nurse placed cups with pills on the tables. That was certainly his least favourite moment of the meal. Not only did he not need them, but they also gave him a headache. He decided to report it, maybe they would stop giving these pills if he did.
That works too, Michael won't turn him down ^_^
Mitch turned to Duncan. "I need a data stick with the available information about the building," he stated. "We can come up with a plan tomorrow." His tone didn't make it sound like a gentle request, but more like a demand.

Mike turned to Dante. "They wouldn't invest their time in my study about demons if they wanted to dispose of me," he said. "I don't have any skills that are a threat to them and I am human; I don't have to fear the agency."

"I'd say that as long as they think Mike is loyal to them, they won't harm him," Benjamin said. "They'll start to be suspicious if we don't show up anymore." He turned to Mike. "Which means we should contact them about a new mission after we talked with Ethan tomorrow morning."




"You're not in a prison, dear," Lily said. "Of course dessert is allowed."
The door opened and someone brought in a tray with food, putting it on the table. The same bland meal as Rose had gotten.
"Starting tomorrow, you will get better food than this. So... you are allowed to leave your room," she handed Steph a keycard, "but you can only go to 4th floor - where we are now - and the fifth floor, where there is a sauna, a fitness room, and a lounge area with comfortable sofa's, a machine with coffee, tea and hot chocolate, and a water fountain. With the keycard you can only open your door and operate the elevator to go to the 4th and 5th floor. The other floors are restricted areas for personnel. No agents from other bases have the clearance to go there, so that has nothing to do with you."

The 4th and the 5th floor were also loaded with well-hidden security camera's, but Lily opted not to disclose that information.

*

The agents stepped back a bit when she rumbled. "R-right, this way please," one of them said, gesturing to the elevator that Rose had taken up. "Live food. How big do you require your prey to be. We can offer rabbits and goats now, but if you desire we can acquire larger animals too."

They started walking to the elevator, one using his keycard to open call the lift back to their floor. Moments later the doors whizzed open and the guards gestured for Gaia to get in. One of them already set the destination for the 4th floor and then stepped outside, holding the door open.
"4A is your room," he said. "It's next to the elevator. The spider-woman was put in 4C, the succubus in 4P."
It was clear they wouldn't go up with her.




"Right, this way," the agent said as he took an arm and guided Daz to the side of the building that led straight to the infirmary. "Where do you think she went?" He asked Daz. "She's supposed to report back here after a mission. We can't reach her on phone either."
He glanced to Daz several times. How was it possible he still walked? This was a high-security patient, that was for sure. A human treated as a demon.
"What are you sorry for?" Michael asked as he turned to Niccia, confusion clearly visible on his face. He reached out to cup her cheek so he could let her look up instead of down, while opening his arm so Lytse could jump down, which the Cyndaquil did.

Lytse stayed with Michael, sitting close to his feet. He watched Sparky greet his mother... it was odd to see a Pokémon call a human mother, but he quickly remembered these were all disguised Pokémon. Then he thought about his own mother and lowered his head. Was she still alive, somewhere? It had been years since he last saw her.

Netherlu spread his arms when Dera complimented his fashion. "Thank you. I'm glad to see my sense of fashion spread to my children too." He glanced to Tater and his sweater. "I mean... Well, being comfortable isn't bad either. We'll catch up in a moment, I'm going to greet Nygari."
He gave Cloud a pat on the back as he passed him and walked to the table where Nygari and Ezzar were sitting.

When Ezzar saw him approach she smiled and rose from the seat to offer it to Netherlu instead. With a faint bow of her head to Nygari, she walked away and went to Yalgai and Kyio.

Penalopy immediately went in pursuit of Saveri, going around and just missing Ezzar as she did. She let out a melodic laugh as she chased her friend around, spinning a bit. Star Fall was great!
When she saw she could catch Saveri she sped up and stretched her arms as she went straight towards him.

Mindy watched the game of tag and flashed a smile to Keldeo. This was amazing.
"So, which one is your guardian?" she asked Xapher. "Everyone has a guardian, right?"
There were so many Pokémon now; all the guardians and the teams of the human guests. Everyone seemed to get along just fine; even her Pokémon were mingling with the Guardians. Just her Lapras stood by the side, with her Onix staying close to her.

"Didn't she do great?" Andy asked. "What interesting things did you bring to Star Fall this time? Did you rescue anyone? Taken care of someone in need? Star Fall is the perfect place to boast about our heroic adventures. Although..." He looked to Varina. "We may need to come up with a more exciting story about how you ended up with me."
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