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Writing and Editing Commissions {Temporarily Closed!}

#441 :: July 3rd, 2011 @ 2:31 AM

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Thanks for being so understanding, everyone. I'll do my best for you!

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#442 :: July 3rd, 2011 @ 2:31 AM

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Yay! ♥

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#443 :: August 2nd, 2011 @ 2:44 PM

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@Kuro
Guess whose muse decided it was time to write? I finished your story! Please let me know if you'd like any changes to be made, and if everything is okay, please go ahead and pay on lot 4965211.

And in case Sugar and Cherish see this: I usually can finish other commissions once I get going on one. I hope to have your two stories done by the end of this weekend!

Jacob

He was a creation without feelings, without memories.

But not without purpose.

Him. Jacob.

A creation so gruesome in appearance, he was sickening to even describe. A strange combination of torn flesh that never bled and a wild white mane that stemmed from a haunting, eyeless mask that saw all. The Devil's own plaything, made from discarded animals that humans had sacrificed to keep the Devil's wrath at bay. One day, when the Devil had tired of the sacrifices' existence, he tortured them into the mold that gave rise to his new favorite pet: Jacob.

It was a creature made almost lovingly, if the Devil was capable of such an emotion. The Devil had gone to great lengths to even steal from Him, God, the protector of the world. The Devil had used the stolen blood to bind the sacrifices together. Because God's own blood could not be used up or dried out, it still dripped down from and would stream back up into Jacob's mouth.

A precious commodity and one that was used to strike against God and cause Him pain. The Devil strove every day to lure people to the "dark side," a world full of mystery and disease that most good-hearted individuals stayed away from and were wary of. But some hearts are weak and some humans are vulnerable. Humans. God's most beloved creation, a physical representation of God's heart. What better way to strike down an omnipotent being than to strike at that extension which is not?

Jacob was the cleaner.

When the Devil had successfully tempted a human to question and to doubt, he would send his pet out to go collect that human's soul. The Devil had no need for souls; they were not of particular interest to him. But each soul he collected was a soul he stole from God. They were collected, not to keep humans in Hell, but to keep them out of Heaven.

Jacob licked his lips as he stole out into the world. Earth. He clawed at the ground and sought out the human the Devil sent him to collect tonight. He was a barely there presence in the night, but a shadow that nearby people crossed the street to get away from. He was the feeling that they were being watched, the prickle down their spine, the goose bumps on their arms.

But tonight was not their night. As he had no will of his own, had no idea what a "will" could even feel like, he did as he was told. Each job was completed precisely and fully, but only he only did what he was instructed to. A perfect operator.

God's blood stuck and clung to his tongue, desperate to not go down into Jacob's throat, but it was enough of an introduction to his body to help him do his deed. It was a struggle that occurred every night, but one that the blood would always lose, not having the power to resist as it was apart from its rightful master.

Because God was omnipotent and omnipresent, His blood enabled Jacob to do his job. He could sort of feel on the air the feelings of the one he sought. The womanâ€™s feelings hummed through him, and he shuddered. Having narrowed down the location, Jacob tore off to the west with a mighty bound.

Life streamed by in mere blurs, but the architecture and night life was of no interest to him. How could it be? The Devil had not given him a personality or tastes.

He narrowed down on the one he sought, a young woman whose tacky, faux-leather heels clicked noisily as she walked down the street. It was grating and unbearable. Even she seemed to be unsure whether she should continue wear them or take them off to mute the sound.

As he narrowed in on her, he sniffed, and small cells of God's blood wafted into his nose. Now the he was close, he could see flashes and bits of her life story drifting through his mind.

She was an ordinary woman in every sense of the word. He saw her father playing baseball with her when she was six. Her ninth birthday party when she got a doll. Her crying over a headstone at seventeen. A pain that hadn't left her. A pain that left her numb and hating God, and therefore, open to the Devil's whims.

And here it was. Her nightmare. Stalking behind her, without her knowledge. After feeding on the energy of her life, Jacob had what he needed to do his job.

This was his purpose.

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#444 :: August 2nd, 2011 @ 2:55 PM

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Love it!

-runs off to pay-

[Style File] | Art by the very talented ! <3

#445 :: August 3rd, 2011 @ 7:22 AM

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@twocents , oh, that's very good news then!

Thank you, and take your time! c:

♥

#446 :: August 9th, 2011 @ 3:27 PM

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@Sugar
A million years later, I am finally done! The story ended up a bit longer than I had originally anticipated (roughly 1,500 words), so I cut the intro poem down to avoid having the entire thing be too overwhelming! The description of the honey-making process should be more or less accurate, only less gross for the purposes of the story. And the friends described are:

I saw that Buzzy didn't have a minion yet, so I picked a couple that I could describe easily, in case you wanted to use one of them.

Please let me know if you would like any changes. Otherwise, you can pay on lot 4970614.

Buzzy

A golden drop of sun
With ambition larger than her form
Hopes to realize her dreams
But finds the world isn't so warm...

Tucked high in a tree in the cul-de-sac of a quiet urban neighborhood was her home. Weaving her way through her hive, she hummed with pleasant joy. Today felt like a good day.

Now a fully grown bumblebee, Buzzy adjusted the daisy on her antenna, hoping to make a good impression. Today, she was starting her work as a worker bee, making honey for the queen. She had been learning her entire life about this, and she was excited about her dreams coming true. It had just always been a fact that she would be making honey, and it was a job she intended to do proudly.

Lining up with the other bees who were also there for the first day of hands-on experience, she glanced up and down, seeing if she could identify them. They had all grown up in this hive together, but there were many bees, so Buzzy could only pick out a couple that she had talked with now and again.

Fiddling with her wings and rubbing her legs together nervously, she decided to strike up a conversation with the male standing next to her.

"Are you nervous? I'm nervous. I've heard a lot about this job from other people, and I know it's a very, very important task. For the queen and all." She paused to catch her breath and read the expression on his face. He wasn't looking at her. Whatever. It's not like she needed an attentive listener, just someone to share with. "I wonder what it's like? Making honey. I mean, we see it all the time, and it's been described before, but I want to know what it's actually like. Do you think the instructor will come soon? I think I do better with hands-on work, and maybe I'll get the flow of it pretty quickly once we start. I hope so. I just don't want to be the last one here."

She let out an easy laugh, and with it her nerves had calmed. Her unwilling listener chimed in with, "Uh, are you talking to me?" Before Buzzy could answer, though, the teacher arrived, and everyone immediately became quiet.

He ran through a quick explanation on how it would work, which included everything Buzzy had heard before. Other bees would go out and get nectar and pollen from flowers. Their job was to meet these bees--specifically, the ones carrying loads of nectar--and take their load. Buzzy and the others would then process the nectar with their own enzymes, and when ready, would drop off the nectar along the wall. The heat in the air, along with their coordinated wing movements, would encourage evaporation and would finish the honey-making process.

Buzzy nodded and looked excited, but was thinking, Come on! I know this all already! The instruction was short, though, and the instructor gave them a list of partner bees. "They should be coming back soon. Find the bee bringing the nectar, and be prepared to take their load. Go!"

With different rates of enthusiasm, the class took off. Buzzy led the pack and flitted about anxiously in front of the entrance to the hive. When she saw the other bee, she waved excitedly. The collector came over quickly, and Buzzy attempted to strike up a conversation. "Hot day out there? Lots of nectar? How is it going?" The older bee, who had clearly been doing this for a while, looked tired and worn. "Can't talk, kid. It's the peak collection months, and we have to prepare for winter. No time to waste."

Disappointed, Buzzy collected the nectar and did her part in the honey-making task. Well, maybe the next collection would be more fun.

Except it wasn't.

It was more of the same. Older collectors who were anxious over getting their task done were completely disinterested in Buzzy. Some didn't even talk or acknowledge her. All left quickly.

At the end of the day, she tucked back into her space into the hive, sorely disappointed. She wanted to be an important part of the process. A bee the hive could be proud of. But reality hadnâ€™t turned out like she expected.

Rubbing her eyes to prevent any tears, she quickly made a decision. If she wasn't important here, then she could go out into the world and find something more exciting to do. Yeah! Who needs the hive and its unimportant jobs anyway?

Escaping quietly in the night, lest she disturb anyone, she stalked out of the hive. When she got to the opening, she took a deep breath. She wasn't one of the bees who left the hive regularly, like the collectors. The closest she had ever come was hovering around the entrance.

Before she could change her mind, she leapt out into the air and took flight. The air movement was different out here from the hive, and she had a hard time controlling her flight. Going into an awkward flight while trying to figure it out, she fell.

Dirt crunched underneath her legs, and Buzzy felt a tinge of fear. She looked up, hoping she could spot her hive, but all she was the underside of a large pink flower. Probably one of the ones the collectors had visited earlier today, she thought, but shook the thought from her heard. Buzzy had decided not to care about the hive anymore, and she wouldn't.

But now that she was here--wherever â€œhereâ€ was exactly--she didn't know what to do with herself. She crawled through the flowers, feeling anxious, but trying not to acknowledge the feeling.

Where can I go? What can I do?

A few days and nights had passed like this: Buzzy wandering around, at first excited and a bit nervous, but gradually, she became more and more desperate. She saw hardly anyone at all, and the bugs she had seen mostly wandered off. It hadn't occurred to her before, but there were a lot of things the hive offered. Food, shelter, and someone to talk to, even if that someone wasn't one of the collectors.

Hungry and tired and scared, Buzzy felt the weight of self-doubt. What had she done? Why did she do this? It had been foolish, and she knew it. Sitting under another flower--she had never managed to weave her way out of the maze of flowers she had fallen into that first night of escape--she let a sob of self-pity take her over.

"Oh, dear." Buzzy stopped and wiped her eyes, glancing up to see the sun blocked out by large, translucent wings. The creature fluttered down to her level, and at a closer look, Buzzy realized that she was a moth of some kind.

"Who are you?" she asked warily, as Buzzy had never interacted with an insect who was not a bee before.

The moth leaned over and patted her leg comfortingly. "You can call me, Lu," she hummed pleasantly before continuing. "Now, dear, tell me what's wrong."

The feeling of sympathy overwhelmed her, and in a rush, Buzzy told her everything that had happened. At the end of her story, Lu nodded and said, "There, there. I don't know where your hive is at, but I know someone who might. Let me go investigate. I'll be right back."

Folding her legs over and hugging them close to her body, Buzzy waited impatiently, feeling like the seconds had stretched into hours. After what felt like days, Buzzy had decided Lu had abandoned her before the translucent shadow returned. Lu came back, along with a couple of other butterflies. Buzzy couldn't identify their species, but one had orange and yellow wings with white patterns and the other had purple and yellow wings with a solid black body.

"These are my friends," Lu announced cheerfully. "I'm sure between the three of us, we can deflect any strong winds and get you back to your hive."

They took off with excitement, scaling up out of the flowerbed and scaling up alongside the expansive bark of the tree. Home. When Buzzy saw the hive come into sight, she could have cried from relief. Her three new friends dropped her off near the hive, being careful not to get in the workers' way, and waved at her as they flew off, shouting well wishes that Buzzy could only hear vaguely over the familiar buzz of her frantic hive-mates.

"Hey!" Buzzy turned around and saw the instructor. "Where have you been? You're needed here! Back to work!"

Adjusting the daisy on her antenna, Buzzy dove back into the hive, ready to start her duties. It had taken far too long, but she realized, this was her place. This was her role. She could fulfill her dreams right at home.

In case Cherish sees this: I didn't skip you; I promise your poem is coming! I just like to run poems through more rounds of editing, because editing a poem isn't as easy as "Oh, that's misspelled."

Last Edit by: twocents 8/09/11 - 3:27:59 pm

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#447 :: August 9th, 2011 @ 3:41 PM

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@twocents That's so lovely! Thank you so much! This is, t-this is.. How much do I owe you again? xD;

The Lumoth looks really beautiful, and I guess I should add them to her TC chest, too! :3
Thanks so much, again!

♥

#448 :: August 9th, 2011 @ 3:45 PM

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@Sugar
Yay, I'm glad you like it. We initially agreed on 2.5 million, and I'm not going to raise the price on you, just 'cause I wrote way too much. xDD 2.5 million is fine. Thanks for being so patient! I hope it was worth the wait.

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#449 :: August 9th, 2011 @ 3:48 PM

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@twocents It is worth the wait! I shall offer right away! Thank you sooo, so much! ♥

♥

#450 :: August 13th, 2011 @ 5:30 PM

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@Cherish
I have read this enough times that if there is awkward wording or something, I am glossing over it at this point. :'D I wanted to capture a very ethereal feel and have the events be more implied than anything. So I focused on creating some phrases where you might take it one way, but it's actually meant with a more malicious undertone, if you know to read it like that.

Anyway, let me know what you think, if any changes need to be made, etc!

Rae

Hear my voice and come to me,
My darling, I'll shelter you
From the terrors of the sea.
Where the sun is warm
And the wind is calm,
We'll weather out this storm.
Oh, breathe in my beauty,
Come and rest for a while.
Don't you want to stay with me?
Step off your ship into the waves,
There's no need to fear,
The coast is safe.

Hear my voice and stay with me.
We'll spend the days together,
Playing on the sandy beach.
Don't you feel content?
Let time pass by easily,
Stay here, my present.
My dear, drink in my charm,
Trust in my allure,
Be calm, feel no alarm.
There is no reason to stray,
In my presence, in my arms,
Let your cares wash away.

Hear my voice and exist for me,
Oh my love, follow my will,
Do as I say, breathe in the sea.
A storm of colors, blue and red,
When the waves come calling,
No goodbyes need be said.
Have I lost you?
How surprising,
For you were so true.
My darling, the death in the seas,
Drift with the others as I call:
Who will be the next to come to me?

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#451 :: August 16th, 2011 @ 10:25 PM

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hey! mind you sending it to me in plaintext as an smail/reply? I am currently in shanghai with really, really crappy internet as IE and I don't have ANY style coding on the page. I think you may have hidden the poem under a dropbox but I can't seem to open/see it

♥DA♥CIs♥OCs♥

#452 :: August 17th, 2011 @ 12:11 PM

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@Cherish
Not a problem, dear! I have in a spoiler box, but I can sMail it to you. Hope you're having fun in Shanghai!

Edit:

#twowrite
HI GUYS.

I have some changes to announce. I graduated from college and got a real job (yay me!), so my availability has changed a little bit. Even though I've been taking requests for about a year now, I still feel like I'm trying to find what works best for you guys and for me. So what I'm wanting to try is this: sort of unlimited slots and I work them in whatever order amuses me. I will do my best to ensure no one waits more than two to four weeks, but I'm hoping this will actually reduce the wait you guys have experienced with the last few rounds of slots. I've noticed that the wait time increased when I put a cap on the slots, and I'm thinking that part of the reason is that, in limiting the requests, I also limited the number of ideas at my disposal to encourage my muse. There will probably be a rough cap of 10 requests or so, just so the number doesn't get too overwhelming. And because part of the idea is to get more ideas in, no one person can take all of the slots.

Unless you guys think this is really sucky and you preferred three slots with a "who knows when you'll get it" sort of wait, I want to try this for a little bit. If you guys did prefer that, then PLEASE let me know, and I'll see what changes I can do to make that work better for all of us. Otherwise, feel free to put your requests in.

Last Edit by: twocents 8/21/11 - 9:26:49 pm

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#453 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 8:45 PM

Is Lonely

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Hello, hello. Anybody out there?...
_______________________________________

@
WAIITT SOOOO

You'll be technically doing "unlimited" slots but a max of ten~?

~~And "CLAIM SLOT!" Will edit c:~~

Character(s): Extraxi is the main character. Supporting characters are Vero (more important) and Vires
Format: Creative Story
Word Count: For this one I think 1.4k words? Which is 4 mill?
Tone/Genre: Action/Humour/Slice of Life/Thriller? The point of the story is to pretty much show Extraxi's daily life. All the info are on their profiles. Extraxi and Vero are just really "good" friends. But Vero loves to tease Extraxi. Extraxi doesn't fight so he kinda stays in the shadows. I guess to bring out Extraxi's lonely life style? Grawh artistic freedom for you xDD
Other Information: Take as long as you need~
Price: 4 mill?

_______________________________________
...Cause I don't hear a sound.

Last Edit by: Totodile 8/21/11 - 9:03:29 pm

#454 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 8:49 PM

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@Totodile
I enjoy being contradictory. You didn't find that amusing?

I mostly said it like that partially because I'm hoping I don't get so backlogged as to get to ten slots, but also so that no one comes in and goes, "KAY, HERE ARE THE STORIES FOR MY TWENTY PETS." 'Cause that's not fair to everyone else.

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#455 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 8:54 PM

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I haven't been able to write anything I like for one of my pets so here I am requiring your service

Character(s): Vetis- he's based off of a demon of hell "who specializes in tempting and corrupting the holy".
He looks like his overlay here

I'm making him fit into subeta, he's a demon here. He really enjoys corrupting and taunting
the Dragarth, Kanis and Kora angels more than any other. No real reason, just does.
He has been around for 500 years, never been in love (nor believes in it), and his only goals in life are to corrupt as many angels as he can and hope that his best friend (more info to come) will forever be by his side.
He is confident, manipulative, very strong, a jerk, stubborn, very persuasive, loves being a demon and only enjoys the company of one- his best friend Samael (

, just with red around him not purple). They have been working together for 300 years and have never been apart.
He dislikes the good that the angels have in them, doesn't understand why they enjoy being good. He also dislikes anyone in love, any talk of love and people trying to "save" him.
Format: a general creative story is fine
Word Count: I don't prefer it too long, but it can be as short or as long as you see fit.
Tone/Genre: Dark, fantasy
Other Information: You can add anything you feel fits.
Price: 2mil+ depends on final word count if it's over the limit for 2mil

Last Edit by: Pixi 8/21/11 - 9:05:23 pm

#456 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 8:55 PM

Is Lonely

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Hello, hello. Anybody out there?...
_______________________________________

@
Oooooh ahahaha I get it XD
I won't do that at least~

So I can claim a slot right?

Edit: I edited my first post anyways xDD

_______________________________________
...Cause I don't hear a sound.

Last Edit by: Totodile 8/21/11 - 9:03:51 pm

#457 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 9:11 PM

is a Sun-Worshipper

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@twocents
Congrats on graduating college! That is a major accomplishment!
Claim x 6
Take your time. I can wait as long as I know I have slots for my pets. lol

@twocents
EDIT:

Character(s): Lord Aharon - strong, intimidating, brooding, protective of those he cares for. He's mysterious and tends to lurk in the shadows - always watching and listening. One minute you're alone and the next minute he is standing right next to you and you have no idea how he got there. He vanishes just as quickly.
I think of him as a cross between Mr. Mistoffelees in CATS, the Phantom in Phantom of the Opera and the Beast in Beauty and the Beast. His treasures will be things relating to the mysterious and shadows.

Format: Open

Tone/Genre: Open

Other Information: I would like my pets to be considered brothers and sisters. I think of my pets as my kids. If possible, I'd like my pets mentioned in the story. Pretty much, you get to be creative.

*****

Character(s): Lady Chaviva - a gentle lady, who is an author of poetry and stories. I think of her in the Victorian sense. She is nurturing and caring. Not so much like a mom. But more like an older sister. She is passionate and artistic. A little rebellious - a little like Jo in 'Little Women'. Her treasures will have things for an author.

Format: Open

Tone/Genre: Open

Other Information: I would like my pets to be considered brother and sisters. I think of my pets as my kids. I'm thinking of somehow combining her 'work' with who she is. So her 'talent' shows and people get to know her as well. Oy, did that make sense? Pretty much, you get to be creative.

*****

Character(s): Moshe-Moriel - very mischievous. Tries to be good, but it isn't long before he gets into something. I think of him as a young child. Kind of like, he's ok, but as soon as you turn your back - he gets into something not so good. He is loving and always sorry for what he did. He just seems to have to see things, get to things, touch things, etc. Never ending curiosity. His treasures will be all full of broken things.

Format: Open

Tone/Genre: Open

Other Information: I would like my pets to be considered brothers and sisters. I think of my pets as my kids. If possible, I'd like my pets mentioned in the story. Pretty much, you get to be creative.

*****

Character(s): Ester-Rut - She is the adored baby of the family. Everyone falls in love with her. She is bright, intelligent, sharing, a peace maker even at so young an age. She is endearing to everyone she meets. She is also curious and likes to explore her little world. The idea I'm going with for her page is 'baby's firsts'. I think of her as an infant - maybe around the age of 1 year or a little older. Old enough to discover the wonders around her and to accomplish her 'firsts'. She is a happy baby and very prideful when she accomplishes something. Her treasures will have to do with baby's firsts.

Format: Open

Tone/Genre: Open

Other Information: I would like my pets to be considered brothers and sisters. I think of my pets as my kids. If possible, I'd like my pets mentioned in the story. Pretty much, you get to be creative.

*****

Character(s): Yosef-Liam - well what to say about him. An experiment gone very wrong. Before he changed - he was a typical little boy, trying to become independent and getting into things. After the change, he is now a special needs child who is very affectionate with everyone. He is relearning things again and hopefully he'll be able to do more on his own. Although, he will never be able to be 'on his own'. His treasures will be related to experiments (I think) lol.

Format: Open

Tone/Genre: Open

Other Information: I would like my pets to be considered brothers and sisters. I think of my pets as my kids. Pretty much, you get to be creative.

*****

Character(s): Besora-Tova - very shy and tends to be withdrawn. I think of her as living her whole life down in the temple, so the world is a very scary place to her. She is curious about things, but she lacks the courage to discover the world around her. She does show a little more confidence at times. But mostly, she stays by me and her brothers and sisters. No idea what her treasures will be yet.

Format: Open

Tone/Genre: Open

Other Information: I would like my pets to be considered brother and sisters. I think of my pets as my kids. If possible, I'd like my pets mentioned in the story. Pretty much, you get to be creative.

Last Edit by: Lillydivine 8/23/11 - 4:04:47 pm

244/1000
All colors of 'pig' Piggy Banks

#458 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 9:23 PM

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@Lillydivine @Totodile @Pixi
YAY, space is available for all of you.

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#459 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 9:24 PM

Is Lonely

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Hello, hello. Anybody out there?...
_______________________________________

@
SWEETTT yaya can't wait! x3

Have fun!

_______________________________________
...Cause I don't hear a sound.

#460 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 9:24 PM

is a Time Lord

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awesome, thanks!

#461 :: August 21st, 2011 @ 9:27 PM

is a Sun-Worshipper

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@twocents
Whoot! Thank you! *grabs you and dances a jig*

244/1000
All colors of 'pig' Piggy Banks

#462 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 5:13 AM

is a Skilled Hooker

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@ Big Congrats on graduating way to go you.

If there is still a slot left I would love to have it please just got back on after being off here for nearly a month blasted chemo treatment is bad can't really do much.

I would love a story for my pet Memmie he is an evil genius I would like a general creative story for him as usual I give you free rein to write what you like for him,If you need more info just let me know.

Dance with Marreshaann

#463 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 11:26 AM

Is Lonely

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I would love to commission you, but I'd first like to know if you are comfortable writing an, at least somewhat, accurate piece on a part of Ancient Egyptian Religion? Specifically the stages of getting into the Afterlife/The Book of the Dead.

forumset by

#464 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 12:22 PM

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@Marreshaann
Definitely space for you!

@Twitter
I am, but please be aware that if I need to do research for your story (which I will in order to make sure it's as accurate as I can) that it will both take a bit longer and be more expensive. Specifically, you can expect it to cost probably around 1 million sP more, on top of whatever length request you have. If that's okay with you, then please either post your request or edit your current post.

@Lillydivine
Please edit one of your posts or make a new one with your requests as soon as possible.

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#465 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 12:24 PM

is a Skilled Hooker

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@ thanks so much hun,I am glad I got your ping and saw you were open not on that much just now due to this blasted cancer treatment.

You do know that I will wait you are so worth it.

Dance with Marreshaann

#466 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 12:32 PM

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@Marreshaann
*hugs* Not a problem dear! I'm glad to have a space for you. Good luck with your treatment! I hope it helps.

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#467 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 1:12 PM

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That's fine, here is my info:

Character(s): It's for my pet, Akh. However, her human name is Neferure, the daughter of Queen Hatshepsut. THIS is her human form. When she turns into an akh she will look like an Ibis. Wings will stay the same, though.
Format: Journal Style with Neferure as the narrator.
Word Count: 500-750
Tone/Genre: Dark/Adventure. I'd like it to start with a botched attempt on Hatshepsut's life, resulting in the death of Neferure. Artistic freedom on how this happens, but the assassin should be someone who doesn't approve of there being a woman pharaoh who also knows that Hatshepsut is grooming her daughter to become the next pharaoh. So, though they were aiming to kill Hatshepsut, killing her daughter was considered a small victory as well. Then it should go into turning into the akh, meeting Osiris, Anubis, and Isis, and eventually getting to the afterlife.
Other Information: 2-4 weeks sounds good, unless you have a rush order if a person pays more, because I would do that seeing how I want the story before I fill out my application for a pet profile.
Price: 3-5mil I'm guessing?

If you have any questions about the religion and such, you can ask me, I'm a bit of an Egypt nerd.

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Last Edit by: Twitter 8/23/11 - 1:13:45 pm

#468 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 2:24 PM

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Sounds good! I'll see what I can do for you to get it done quickly. I do not accept bribes, because I think it's kind of a jerk move to charge you more just to get something done in a timely manner while I simultaneously force everyone else to wait even longer, so no rush orders.

Do you have any books or sources you'd recommend I look at in particular, in order to get the information as accurate as possible?

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#469 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 2:57 PM

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Great! As for books and other sources. Mostly just look around the internet. Wikipedia has some good info on Neferure HERE. I learned most of it from a book called Gods and Men: 3000 BC, but it's a long, boring, and repetitive book that I don't recommend for a 500-750 word story.

You can probably google most of your info. It doesn't have to be completely accurate. If you want, you can also put excerpts from the Book of the Dead (just remember it wasn't an actual book, just papyri) by google-ing Book of the Dead spells. Specifically the spell "Cause One to Become an Akh".

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Last Edit by: Twitter 8/23/11 - 3:00:03 pm

#470 :: August 23rd, 2011 @ 4:06 PM

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Ok, I just edited my post

244/1000
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#471 :: August 24th, 2011 @ 12:18 PM

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That's perfect! I just wanted to be sure to use sources you were familiar and okay with to start out. Thank you!

@Lillydivine
Looks good! Thanks dear!

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#472 :: August 24th, 2011 @ 12:23 PM

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No problem, I'm so excited to see the result!

I'd also like to add one more thing, Neferure supposedly died around age 16, but I'd like to change that to be around 21. So if you need her age at some point in the story, just remember that, thanks!

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#473 :: September 17th, 2011 @ 5:10 PM

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YAY, weekend of writing!

And the first story up is @Totodile's. I know you originally asked for a story around 1,400 words. This one is just shy of 900 words. I looked for places where I could add detail and flesh things out, but I didn't want to add words purely for the sake of adding words, you know? So this leaves two options:
1. If you're happy with it as it is, we can leave it, and the price will be 2.5 million for a story of this length. If this is your preference, you can pay on lot 4997780.
OR
2. If there is something you want me to expand on, let me know, and I can go back and add more.

Extraxi

A cold breeze snuck into the area, flirting with his red-and-blue locks, but Extraxi could not be bothered. He hunched over his laptop a bit more and continued to do his work. It was his favorite place: a calm spot in the outdoors nestled underneath a tree that had fallen a long time ago by some forgotten storm or other calamity. A small creek snuck by underfoot, but up on the rocks, he was safe and dry and generally content.

No one was about to bother him, precisely as he liked it.

His eyes flashed across the screen, and he sought out small weaknesses in the code he was hacking. Or attempting to anyway. At the moment, he felt like he was searching out a nonexistent needle in the haystack. His mind processed different possibilities: had the system updated, and the code was just slow to follow? Why wasn't it working like it should?

The normally stoic Extraxi let out a small sigh of annoyance. It was the only visible display that he was bothered, and it was quickly covered up as another breeze tore through the area.

Along with the wind, though, came a sound that was soft, but out of place. He shut the laptop and tucked it securely behind one of the rocks. He inclined his head and listened for the direction again, aware of the wind's ability to play tricks and hide the origin of a sound.

CRACK!

It was a distinct mistake, a clear breaking of a twig underfoot. He hunched over slightly, curling into himself to make it harder for the observer to locate him. Pulling up his black hoodie slightly, he closed his fingers around the cold, familiar plastic of a Poké Ball. Beneath his fingers, he could feel the quiet hum of Feraligatr's excitement, his eagerness to go. Extraxi frowned slightly; as this was a quiet spot for him, he didn't want to have to battle. But his reaction would depend on the intruder.

If only he could locate him.

Keeping as still as possible, Extraxi tilted his head slightly, waiting for the watcher to make another misstep and reveal his location. His vigilance was rewarded with the slight shifting of pebbles, and Extraxi reacted instantly.

Climbing swiftly up over the rock, he threw himself up on the fallen tree and raced toward the end, where he came face to face with...

"Vero." He let out a small, barely noticeable sigh. And, with a slight shift in his body language, that was all Extraxi needed to communicate he wasn't going to respond violently.

"Aw, I was hoping I could sneak up on you!" Vero's voice was slightly disappointed. "But then I got my stupid sandal stuck on one of these roots..."

Extraxi watched as Vero untangled himself, before he leapt down back to his original spot. Vero settled up on the log, letting his legs dangle down, and he observed his friend. Although Extraxi and Vero had been friends for so long, Vero still had a hard time reading him.

Extraxi back down, and pulled a chocolate bar from the pocket in his hoodie. As he ripped back the paper, he heard a low chuckle from Vero. Glancing upward, he saw Vero pull a silly face and remark, "Man, it's a wonder you don't weigh, like, a thousand pounds. I've never seen you eat anything other than chocolate."

Vero's observation was met with a cool gaze and sharp crack as Extraxi sunk his teeth into the chocolate.

"What are you doing here, Vero?"

“What’s the matter?” Vero winked, and Extraxi could tell that Vero was amusing himself. “You know I can’t go a day without picking on you. You were hardly around all day, and here you are, sulking about in the woods.”

He shook his head, and flipped his hoodie up over his head. It had gotten a bit cold tonight, but he mostly wanted to communicate to Vero that his sarcasm was not appreciated at the moment.

Vero sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I just wanted to check up on you. You're so quiet, you know? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine."

Vero studied Extraxi carefully, and Extraxi used the moment to pull his laptop back up, so he didn't have to meet his friend's gaze.

"Vires wanted to come to, but he was preoccupied tonight."

"Hmm."

"Do you want to be left alone?"

He didn't answer immediately. Extraxi didn't mean to be so cold or standoffish, especially not to people like Vero. But communication was difficult. He would easily respond to an e-mail, which he could do on his own time, without having to deal with someone face to face. But if he had to be around people, he just preferred to sit and listen to his surroundings.

Vero understood. He knew that. Vero also worried, and he knew that too.

So, while he could spend the night alone, maybe...

"You can stay. I'm going to keep working on this computer problem, though. Tell me about your day."

He could almost feel Vero's smile, and the atmosphere lightened. He turned back to his laptop, and just let Vero talk, letting his lips turn up slightly at particularly amusing stories.

And slowly, the night melted away to dawn. And with it, so too did his feelings of loneliness.

@Pixi
And yours is done! I might have a minor edit for you later. I dropped Rah a comment, asking her what the plural version of "Kanis" was, to make sure it was right, and she hasn't gotten back to me yet. I put in "Kanises" for now, but if that's wrong, I'll be sure to let you know. Otherwise, please let me know if you have any changes, and if not, you can pay on lot 4997776.

Vetis

He is the darkness.

A demon of hell with tattered wings and a body of swirling darkness and blood red. A plight to the holy and a plague on all that is good. Vetis.

He who has been alive for 500 years, taunting and mocking the angels. He reserved a particular hatred for angelic Koras, Kanises, and Dragarths, just because it was good to have hobbies. Seven hundred sixty-eight converted and counting.

He is an abomination.

Three hundred years ago, he did find a focus for his affections, assuming any exist within his rotting heart. Samael. A dark, demonic pet with the same beautiful touches of blood red spikes and pure black flesh. Since Vetis stumbled across Samael, their similarities had brought them together. They quickly became friends, and had never been a part in the years since then. Though he had very few wants in his life -- the bare essentials of corruption and mockery were often enough -- he hoped Samael could be by his side until the end.

He is nefarious.

They were out tonight, stalking through a forest that was normally reserved as a calm retreat for the citizens in the small fishing village. The placement of the village had been carefully planned so that its residents could get enjoyment of both the fresh lake waters and the greenery of the land. Vetis knew this; he had watched the town carve itself out of the countryside so many years ago.

And he had watched her move in. A silly little angelic Kora who had fallen in love with a local. Tch! Love was a pointless emotion, and Vetis wasn't entirely convinced that it existed. He couldn't understand the Kora's desire to be good and to share that feeling with those around her. It made no sense. What a waste of energy.

He is a scourge.

There she was, walking calmly along the forest path, enjoying the night birds’ songs. How simple. How easy to take. Vetis's red eyes gleamed brightly with delight at the prospect. Slipping in between the shadows, he approached the angel. A few well-placed words, a soothing manipulation, and it would place the seeds of doubt necessary to allow her to see that good wasn't all she had in life. That there were tastier options, better options. Come. Come.

Vetis. He who corrupts and tempts the holy.

Last Edit by: twocents 9/17/11 - 6:27:20 pm

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#474 :: September 17th, 2011 @ 6:41 PM

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Oh I'm in love!
That is just fantastic, so fitting.

I don't see anything that needs to be changed, the whole thing is prefect!
Was it over the 2m limit?

And thanks for asking her what was right, I'll leave it how it is for now until I hear other wise.

#475 :: September 17th, 2011 @ 6:43 PM

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I'm glad you like it! It is not over the 2 million limit! I wanted to keep it a bit shorter, so that every sentence would be deliberate and would communicate something about his personality. BTW, I LOVE his profile. So shiny!

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#476 :: September 17th, 2011 @ 6:49 PM

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I think the size is great, it's just what I wanted for him. I am so pleased.

Thanks so much, his profile was a pain to order. It took me months of searching before finding someone that could take what was in my head and make it look fantastic.

I offered on the lot with your price + a tip.

Last Edit by: Pixi 9/17/11 - 6:49:46 pm

#477 :: September 17th, 2011 @ 7:45 PM

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You are too kind, Pixi!

@Marreshaann
Your story is done! I was thinking about something the director of the movie Up said once about their villain, which is that most people do not wake up thinking, "And how can I destroy the world today?! MWAHAHA!" So I wanted to play with the idea of Memmie being evil, but not being aware that he is evil.

Please let me know if you would like any changes or if this wasn't what you were looking for. If you are happy, then you can pay on lot 5013662.

Memmie

Crack!

The clean, mechanical sound as metal slides against metal and fires off at high speed. A slight jerk forward as it hits, and the target crumples into a twisted, satisfying heap. Maybe a twitch or two, and then it’s done. Like a simple haiku, poetry in motion.

He walked carefully around the area, being careful not to step into any of the evidence. When he was satisfied that he had found a good angle, he pulled out a camera and took a snapshot. A bright flash that dissolved into color as the picture printed immediately. It was saved as evidence of the beauty of the act committed, as if he had written down the words to his poem.

Memmie was keen and analytical, but saw things slightly differently than most. He could see red skies and purple grass, because the world was just a matter of how you looked at it. It was his opinion that you can see whatever you perceive.

But then, others found out about his unique gift. He was heralded as a genius, and had people from all different fields calling to him. Come learn science! Maybe you'll cure a disease! No, wait, over here in engineering! Make the next great invention!

And it was just so boring.

Where the mind goes, the body follows. He sought out something more interesting. A way to play with the world that suited the way he thought, and he found his calling.

The newspapers referred to him in a nameless manner, calling him a plague upon the country, inciting fear in their readers and generally raising hell the way the media is prone to doing. In some ways, it was terrible to have an IQ so much higher than everyone else around, because no one else understood. They just couldn't see things the way he could. They couldn't see the beauty in his actions.

It was so uncommon to naturally stumble across a scene mixed with the brilliance of peachy flesh and dark red splatter. If he couldn't find that naturally, then didn't it only make sense to go create it? In his wake, he left art.

The wind shifted, and he heard voices carrying through the air, a telltale sign of nearby hikers. So with the wind, he fled the scene, leaving behind a present for the others.

He moved swiftly through the forest with the light, practiced steps of someone who had done this before. And in time, the wind brought him a present: the delicious screams of the hikers. The papers would have a new story in fresh ink tomorrow morning, and the gift-giving cycle goes on.

Last Edit by: twocents 9/30/11 - 1:00:12 pm

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#478 :: September 17th, 2011 @ 7:50 PM

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Hello, hello. Anybody out there?...
_______________________________________

@
FFFUUUU I LOVE IT THE WAY IT ISSS *A*
No need to add anything >"<

-rushes to pay-
THANK YEE 8D

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...Cause I don't hear a sound.

#479 :: September 17th, 2011 @ 11:49 PM

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I'm glad you're happy Totodile!

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You're up! I discovered that there is a bit of conflicting information out there on ancient Egypt, but I did my best to reconcile the various sources. My intent with this story is thinking about her newly becoming an akh, reflecting on what happened and where she can go from here. Please let me know if you'd liker any changes, and if you're happy, you can pay on lot 4997925.

Akh

It was an unexpected attack.

My mother, Hatshepsut the pharaoh of Egypt, was not always received with love. Many were angry that when my father passed, Hatshepsut had taken on the role of pharaoh. Admittedly, it was initially supposed to be a temporary reign, until my half-brother would be old enough to rule, but as time wore on, it became apparent that she was no longer acting pharaoh, but was Egypt's full-fledged leader.

When my mother transitioned into that role, I took on many new responsibilities and gained titles of my own. I am Neferure, Lady of Upper and Lower Egypt, Mistress of the Lands, and God's Wife of Amun. I took on an almost queenly role in the nation's religious and public life, as my mother took on her political role. We grew accustomed to our positions, and my mother had her most trusted advisers educate me in numerous areas. I see now how it could have been perceived that, though my half-brother was the rightful heir to the throne, I was being groomed to become the next pharaoh.

It had been more than seven years into my mother's reign, and there was certainly a sector of the public that was wondering when she would abdicate and let my brother take his place as pharaoh. There were people who were demanding that she do so, but I hadn't worried too much about it. It would be a serious crime to harm a pharaoh, so who would follow through on their desires with such violent means?

At 21 years of age, I really should have known better.

They came in the night, sneaking through the courtyard and scaling up the walls of our palace into some windows that were left open in order to entice a breeze, as the heat had been so stifling lately. But the palace was large, and I guess they didn't know precisely where Queen Hatshepsut's quarters were.

I woke up to the pain of a knife in my lower back. I rolled over to take a look at my attacker, and while he clearly recognized me, mumbling harsh words to berate himself for attacking the wrong bed, I couldn't place him. Once the job was started, he must have felt he should follow through, and he struck again, this time in my chest. I screamed as loud as I could for the guards, but they didn't come in time.

I felt the pain recede as I slipped into darkness.

It's a weird, disconnected feeling. Death, that is.

In a vague sense, I know my mistaken death meant my mother's life was spared, but it was a victory of sorts for those who despised the idea of a woman pharaoh. Once dead, I could, of course, no longer inherit the position.

But I wasn't hated widely, and there were those who still dedicated themselves to my well-being, even after my death. With the aid of the Book of the Dead, the skhen-akh, a priest who could seek the akh, followed the rituals outlined. He made the correct offerings and spoke the words that would bring together my Ka, a vital spark necessary to be alive, and my Ba, my soul and personality that made me unique. Under his guidance, I felt myself transform. I shed my human body, and awoke again as an akh. With a curved, blue beak and a long, white neck that melded into a mixture of green-, blue-, and gold-feathered wings, I came back as an ibis.

Not quite alive, but not dead, being an akh was an interesting and new sensation. With the gods' guidance -- Anubis of afterlife, Osiris of the underworld and dead and his wife Isis -- and my old advisers' teachings, I know I can still do good acts. I may not be a pharaoh, but I can still affect a positive influence on the world.

I am now in a form where I can reward those who attended me, by watching over and caring for them while they live on.

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#480 :: September 18th, 2011 @ 12:05 AM

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It looks great! Thank you! Yes, there is a bit of conflicting info over the internet, which is why I said you didn't have to be completely accurate.

How much do I owe you for your work?

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