Fanfiction ► Writing activity

[Annoyance]

In school we have a writers club...and I for some odd reason got voted vice president. I thought up of a venting activity we could do though. I like to call it ragdoll.

Basically the rules go like this

1. You see a person. Male, female, whatever you want.
2. Setting's up to you
3. You do whatever your feelings portray. If you're angry and want to kill, have at it. If you feel like adventure and you're antsy go team up and kill a dragon together.

You get what I'm saying?

Then you flip the perspective. So if you're in love maybe describe what they're thinking about you. :< If you're maiming them by tearing their flesh from their bones you'll describe the pain. It doesn't have to be morbid. I encourage variety so if you write happy things that's completely fine.


I even have my own example...It's kinda...depressing if you ask me and I think it still needs work after I've edited it for what seems to be the 6th time...but I'm still posting.
Here we go:


Walking down a dirt road in the forest was an average girl going at a medium pace. As she walked, her silver necklace scrapped against her cold shivering skin after every step she took. To be honest, she hated walking...and yet she trudged on; she had a mission. What this mission was, however, she did not know for sure. This feeling she had was strange and unfamiliar to her and she had no idea what to do about it. All she knew was that she wanted to talk to him. She felt like she needed to be with him.

Why did she want to talk to him? He was the one who broke her heart into glass-like shards...and yet she trudged on. And there he stood in the path underneath the trees looming over them, making the sky's stars unseen. He reached out his hand and called her forward. Her mind raced telling her to run away, that what she was doing was foolish. She didn't listen, she couldn't listen as she slowly walked forward to him.

This isn't what you want, is it? For him to play you like a puppet? You are the toy, he is the child. You want this? To trick you and just use you for what he wants and then throw you away when he finally gets tired of you? This isn't right and you know it. Please. Listen to me. Please...listen.

Her thoughts pounded in her skull as he started to sing in his velvet voice as they walked the path together to their unknown destination. It was almost like he was trying to lull her away from his lies and distract her from all common sense left in her head. The girl was becoming even more confused than she already was before. She felt happy being with him here and wanted this moment to last forever. And then in a whir his arms were completely locked around her.

The girl was scared, but wanted to stay because she felt happy that he wanted to hold her. Happy that he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him...but no. She knew better. She knew he did not truly love her back. All an evil trick and a lie that she did not need.

She remembered the necklace she wore around her neck; a tiny but sharp sword on a weak chain. With one free hand she pulled it with all the strength she had in her. The charm broke off the chain as he bent his head down to kiss her cheek and continue down to her neck. And then, with all the strength she still had, she stabbed into his soft side causing him to quickly let go of her. Instead of worrying about the wound he recently received, he looked like he was trying to figure out why this seemingly innocent girl had just stabbed him in his stomach. Without another thought she pulled away with tears in her eyes.

She ran and ran with all her might from the bleeding boy.



(I'd really like opinions on this so...please respond.)
[edit: also it would be appreciated if you posted comments on other people's work as well. I'm sure they'd like that.]

 

[Wallflower]

It's good. I like it. The thought process behind it, the feelings driving it, the description fueling it... It's rather deep. It seems like something I would write.

So, now I write it from the boy's point of view, or I write my own?

 

[Swag]

I'm feelin this. I don't really feel like writing at the moment, but expect me to pop in here every now and then.

 

[Annoyance]

I encourage you to do your own.

I'm trying to write his point of view but he ends up being a vampire everytime I try.

 

[Wallflower]

Lolz.

Anyways, here I go.

---

"Because there's something between us anyway..."

The young boy, aged 14, lay awake in his bed at what seemed to be around midnight, just staring at his ceiling. His earphones fit snugly into his ears, and he lip-synched to the current song perfectly while not moving anything else. He did know the lyrics like the back of his hand.

Thing was, he had been getting more and more into slow musi--

Tap. Tap.

He heard something hitting his window softly. Looking out the blinds, he could see a shapely silhouette in the darkness outside. It was a familiar face; one the boy knew very well. He opened the window, and felt the brisk cold of the outside air hit his face. The girl outside the window held out her hand, and the boy took it slowly. Nothing was said- nothing needed to be. Everything was understood between the two. He stepped outside with the girl, looked into her eyes, moved closer...

Eyes shot open.

It was a dream. Of course it was. Anything that actually mattered to the boy turned out well in his head. He sighed, and sat up in his bed. His cheeks were cold. He touched them to feel a slight wetness upon them. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back.

If only.

 

[Annoyance]

Wow. I can sense the need, ya know. o.o


But...is this your feelings right now?
Or you doing his point of view?

 

[Wallflower]

Me. As in, my point of view. My feelings.

Pretty sensitive. Really, the most out of my personality I've let out in a long time.

A few months ago, I wrote poetry, but I haven't been feeling it lately.

So, yeah. Whaddo you think?

 

[Annoyance]

I like how the feelings are portrayed and the slight surprise of a dream. You handled it well.

Although it's a bit hard to portray your feelings on a dream-like thing, right?

Ragdoll is mostly a fantasy activity to escape reality. If you want your crush to like you you do it. :< etc.

or something like that.
Inner wants vented out on paper.

 

[Wallflower]

Or, rather, inner thoughts. How your inner wants are always sabotaged or destroyed somehow.

At least, that's my take on it.

I don't know; for me, the whole dream sequence was the easiest thing for me. It seemed appropriate somehow.

 

[Annoyance]

Mm. I can't really tell you how exactly to do it. Just a concept. This activity can be done in like...500 ways

:< I do wish that others would post something though. It's kinda sad.

 

[Tyler Durden]

Such a blissful feeling, like golden chocolate melting slowly on your tongue. It was delightful, but the after taste was bitter. Such a contrast, it was like having a beautiful gold painting before you, and then having someone make a huge green slash through it.

But you can't hate the painting because of the green mark. Even if you detest that mark, it is a part of the painting now. If you have to deal with the mark, so be it. Such things can't ruin your attraction to the art. It's a part of you, maybe the most important part. What's a little pain compared to such euphoria? If anything, the contrast offers more...

 

[Annoyance]

You used maybe 3 similes in such a small thing...That's like...annoying. :< (kidding of course) But I like it.

I understand it, ya know. Even though it's such a short piece I can feel it.

 

[Tyler Durden]

lolz, it was either that or make it obscenely long.

I save obscenely long for my longer stories.

 

[Annoyance]

The fact that people like what I wrote up thar is just amazing considering all I write is fanfiction...which is the lowest of the low on literacy matters.

Obscenely long's though sometimes.
But I like short things because usually they tend to make you think more if done correctly.

What was that one poem that was like...14 words?
Something about a leaf and a metro... ._.' why can I not remember it?

 

[Joy]

Effortless recaptivity.

Effortless recaptivity.

Effortless recaptivity.

Do I have any idea waht that means? Of course not, but I say it anyway.

I alywas ponder on a midnight dreary, and as I ponder weak and weary, my feat seem to speak as if to explain something. Something. Something. What? I wonder. Could it be? Maybe to get up and go, instead of complaining. Yes, that's what they say. I'm sure, I'm sure. They tell me this everyday, and yet, they're not heard.

I wonder why.

 

[Annoyance]

...The Raven?



:< Although...there's no second person so it's mostly just venting yourself which is only 1/3 of the activity.
One part is to vent all your emotions out. Which you did.
The 2nd part is to vent this anger onto someone else. Possibly the cause of these emotions. I know the blame game isn't the best but I find you might be able to vent more if you have a TARGET...
The third is to see it through their eyes. Maybe what their mission was in making you feel this way. They could be evil or they could be good just trying to help but made things worse. You decide.

 

[Joy]

Err, yeah. As I said in the chat, I just took somethign that came to my head and combined it with the Raven.

My apologies for not following the activity.

 

[Annoyance]

It's fine. Try to next time though.

If you'd like I could show some of your stuffs as examples for the writers club binder so some people can read other's stuff else than my morbid depressing thing. :<

 

[Wallflower]

Oh, I've got another. This one's a two-parter.

---

A few short bounces before he began. The boxing gloves felt tight on his hands, as if they weren't enough to constrain them. The bell rang, and the match began. He closed his eyes, and began. A quick jab here, another punch there. He got into the rhythm. He felt limber. He felt good. He was to fight with what he had, nothing less, and what he had was what he felt in him.

Juking and jiving, he got more into the fight. Landing heavier blows. He didn't want to give the fight as much effort as he was giving it, but him thoughts began fueling him. His memories. His emotions. A weight rose in his chest, almost as if his lungs were to burst from his body. He hit harder and harder, feeling the weight in his stomach lift but grow heavier at the same time. It was beginning to hit his head, as if he were lightheaded. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that fighting made it easier.

Eventually, he was giving it all he had. His emotions fully fueled the fight completely. He felt his anger, his sadness, his everything in the fight. He was annihilating the enemy in front of him. With every punch welled more emotion in him. More strength. More of a certain will to go on. Every time his fist connected gave him the satisfaction of knowing that he felt that much better, only to be barraged with another wave of emotion.

The enemy ruptured open, spilling it's insides all over the floor. He fell to his knees and wept. Not in sadness for the target in front of him, but for himself. For his own instability. He looked up to see his target: a destroyed punching bag. He cringed in fear, knowing that if it weren't just a plush toy hanging from the ceiling...

Part II coming soon

 

[Annoyance]

what a tweest.

...reminded me of Rocky Balboa.
But I liked it. Anger pushing him towards the goal and whatnot.

...I'd say more but I have an essay to write. <<' eheh. Just know that I like it very much.