Wabbajack, Wabbajack, W-
-ait, that's the wrong line. And it's not even mine. And I shouldn't rhyme, becauSe there is no time. No time now for silly sh*t.
There are just so mucH places. So many obligations. So many people to meet and greet and gut.
But I can't fulfill my obligations looking likE this, with this attire and the current sad public image. I mean, loOk at this hair! It is becoming a curly mess and turning ginGer all by itself, as if my predecessor's traits are rubbing off on me. Ah, hOw I loathe it. Maybe I'll shave it all of, or dye it green. Hmm, yes. Green haiR should go nicely with these ruby red lips and my pale face... I'll explain that one later, now I must lament some more.
These clothes are atrocity too, AHHH! They are too smelly and too shAbby and... and rather conventional. Yes, yes, they do have some nice effects but would YOU use used cloThes of another man, especially one who was a good head taller than you? And who wears a waistcoat, honestly?! Nah. I am tHinking making a public bonfire out of them, in front of my drooling subjects, right smack in the middle of Crucible. Maybe afterwards I'll run around naked a bIt. There is nothing as liberating as dangling your bitS around and painting the town red. Whoever lAughs will get a spear up their butt.
So, that's aLready three things on my New & Improved "To-do" list: new hair, new clothes, run around naked for a while, but not for too long, I don't want to get pneumonia. I don't knoW if I can still get it, but no matter. Also, it's three and a hAlf, if we consider the need to anally violate anyone who would find this sort of behavior inappropriate. Oh well!
So many plans. So manY places. So many planes of thought, shifting, spinning. So much time.
At leaSt I am in tune with myself now. Back, way way Way way way back, when my vision, both inner and outer, was limited to black, white and shades of gray, I have had contingency plans, my agendas, my inner sense of right and wrong, same and insane. I still slap myself every now and then for being so foolish.
Now I think in colors and spectrums never seen before. The liberAtion is so complete, so extreme that it almost hurts at times. I am not even limited to this plane which ignorant fools call Mundus. In reality, there are counTless existences, countless planes and places in the multiverse. I have traveled some of them - not all, since even deities have their limits - and even seen carriers of this gift I bear on other worlds.
On one, for example, the creature who all other speCies fear and not even dare speak it's name is the cutest 28-legged cephalopod-like critter (or at least I believe it as a cephalopod... it is hard to define a creature whicH is so unique, due to being huge as a small island). The mere sight of him can drive a sea creature spasming, while his gentle humming drives you into delirium (I wouldn't know, though, I'm already there).
On another world, whIch is quite amazing due to it's complete lack of magicka users, save few individuals who don't even realize their own potential and myriad of charlatans, there is a man who bears the name Jester or Joker, I don't rightly remember. He also has shabby clothes and is, like everyoNe in that pitiful place, completely oblivious of his magical potential; unknown to him is the fact that HE, truly, is the maelstrom of the bulk of all mental instability in that plane of existence. He, like I am here, is the avatar of creative and imaginative, combined with huGe explosions. And I really do like his hairdo so, at the risk of being labeled a copYcat, I will gladly make my hair green sometime soon. But not just now.
At least one thing I can do, right after I finish hunting down last patrOl of Saints in palace corridors with this nifty sword my overly orderly bad other half left me - and that is to decree that from now on, for all times, Father and Patron of all madness in Nirn, Dam Dog who flies like a butterfly and stings like a rabid puppy's bite, will no longer be known under the name Sheogorath. That, my dear friend, is a complete waste of syllables. Nay! I am a simple man with simple needs and I require a simple name. I will be known as Tales from now on. Tales, because I will have so, so mUch to tell you. But not just now.
There are so many places to visit, so much work to do. And this last Golden Saint, with her inFernal screaming and running, isn't helping me at all and I really have to start ecOnomizing with time. And stOp procrastinating.
So much to do, so littLe time. Bah! Gods just can't have too much fun and bloodsport nowadayS.
As always, I'll reopen this when all the entries have been submitted.
Please remember, don't post as yourself but login to the guest or guest2 account, password = chorrol
This is very much remiNiscent of the obscure texts section at the Imperial Library... lIke a muCh funnier Sermon Zero.
I find mysElf highly amused.
It drifts away a bit into obliqueness and vagueness, but IMO the best.
I'm not sure the bold capital letters imporved things, quite the opposite actually I found them a distraction. First letters of paragraphs are better for that sort of thing, subtler but people will notice in this sort of piece.
Saying that I thought this piece captured sheogorath well and was ammusingly whimsical while having a harder edge. The almost fluid feel of it was good as well as the chain of thought style which complemented the madness.
This wasn't a plot or message piece but for what it was it was very good.
This feels to me to be full of clinches and melodrama. The lead character is vain and childish, which makes it difficult for the reader to like them or sypathise. Are we supposed to like this character? This doesn't feel like a story to me, but a random train of thought of someone who I wouldn't like to be in the head of, quite honestly.
The story doesn't go anywhere at the end. I liked the idea of other worlds and their differences, the jester, the 28 legged beast etc. There are points in here that could really soar if they weren't weighed down or surrounded by the rest.
Despite the lack of plot, I liked parts of this – the colours - the narrator who starts off with black, white and grey vision and ends up with spectrum's that hurt. That is a good idea which should have been expanded on.
There is too much in here that doesn't relate to each other, too much that could have been better stories on their own instead of being mixed up in this pot, which makes the reader confused and at some points (butts) feeling ill.
This needs reworking a few times to find out what the story is and what the writer really wants to say, otherwise as it stands, it reads like a 3 minute writing exercise where the writer wasn't allowed to take their pen off the page and had to write exactly what they thought.
And what's with all the capitals? Very distracting.
To sum up, some interesting description but no plot or point. Sorry, but this is my least favourite entry - 8th place for me.
I think it's just so hilarious. The others are about gloom and doom, but this one is just silly in a lovely way.
Definitely one of the more unique entries to the contest. I certainly understood the concept of the story quickly once I started seeing the slight randomness and silliness involved with it. Personally, as another guest has mentioned, I would've like a better way to incorporate the secret message but given the time constraint on the piece, it would've taken more time to figure out a good way to do that.
I applaud you for your uniqueness above all else.
I really love it.
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