#Troupe-of-Writers

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Introduction and Important Information.

Welcome to #Troupe-of-Writers

#Troupe-of-Writers is currently closed until 5/3/13 as it is only open in the summer and winter. Thanks!

For Non-Members

If you send a join request, please include a sample of your work.
Thank you.

For Members

Folders

-Inspirations: Writer's-Block Smashers.
Writing prompts, visual art, and photography accepted. Self-explanatory name. Submission limit: one per day.

*There are five general folders:

-Scripts and Screenplays
-Poetry: Free Verse
-Poetry: Traditional Forms
-Prose: Fiction
-Prose: Non-Fiction

If you wish to submit chaptered-work, please note me. I will create a folder exclusively for that writing.

*Featured folder will have two different deviations every week.

*Favorites folder is for the group. It does not have to be literature.

Rules
*Aiming for higher quality work. No WIPs, please. And grammar--use good grammar, unless the deviation is experimental fiction/poetry or the grammar is serving the purpose of the narrative.

* Submission limit is nonexistent. Just don't spam message boxes.

* Fan-fiction is allowed. Just be sure to state where it's from in the author's section, and give credit to the original artist.

* Respect, kindness and civility. Trolling, flaming and bullying won't be accepted.

*No mature content.

*Have fun! Quality does matter, but enjoyment in writing is more important.

Donate to ~Fall-to-Autumn so this group can hold contests etc.
Thank you.

Featured

A tale of a lost heroMy heart wavers, my kingdom is in peril, and I must once again go to arms to defend what is mine from the awful sins that plague it. With my sword dub ''Santory'' I will once again spill blood on the stones of love, leaving shatter skulls and limp bodies of those you stand to cause harm to her. The clouds will rain down tears for the fallen but the water will be a bright red from the ones I laid waste to. Thus fear and despair will once again be known when ever my name is said. My name is ''Bankenkai'' and this is my story.

The year is 1902; the name of my kingdom is ''Thorin'' the mighty city in the flames. Thorin is surrounded by many actiA tale of a lost hero by ~JA-Lashley

2 Comments

InertiaSometimes, I feel so very sorry for
the letters that I write.
Born onto a blank page and
trapped there all their lives.
No new sites to see, no unfamiliar faces to meet;
standing in a lonely row
just to express my thoughts as words,
and yet, completely unable to express their own.
They lie paralyzed in their birthplace
lacking the ability to grow and learn.
Immovable to change for the rest of their lives.
And sometimes, I wonder to myself,
why I choose to be the same.Inertia by ~HoldTheNoise

60 Comments

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Featured

Be a Ship by *DearPoetry

We Were Angels"Mermaids, sirens, they don't exist," the grizzled old sailor said.

"But you saw what happened," the cabin boy insisted. His dark green eyes were wide and a bit teary; he was only twelve, and it was his first ocean voyage. Seeing a man climb over the rail and lose himself in the waves had shaken the boy up, though what was most disturbing about it was the look of bliss on the man's face as he leapt.

"Charlie was always loopy. He made himself see what he wanted to see and he jumped in after it." The old man shrugged. "We come from the sea, and it calls to us."

"The priest says we come from dust."

"Your priest has never been out of sight ofWe Were Angels by ~LindsayIrene

Featured

Tower of Prompts - CONTEST

Mornings[English version below]

Mornings

Seule dans la nuit noire précédant l’aurore, tu avances
Où l’ombre des réverbères dort, dans le silence
Lésé des vacarmes qui circulent. Je suis tes traces
Et tes pas légers qui laissent dans l’éther fugace,
Nue et vierge, la fragrance mûre d’une fleur sauvage.
Et j’aurais ta main fraîche, comme l’oiseau son rivage.
Douce fleur de printemps née sous le ciel de Bretagne ;
Une étoile dansant dans le firmament ailé ;
Pour toucher aux reflets mordorés de ton règne
Unique, je plongerai dans les profondeurs de tes
Yeux, le ravin terrifiant des hautes montagnes.

FragmentMornings by ~GrisBrouille

Devil's Got A Brand New DanceDevil's Got a Brand New Dance

Hiding from the sunshine
tucked into the night
candles on the corner
bring your face in to the light

smoothest of the talkers
with the moves that you learned to survive
in a groove with the lambs on your altar
that would die just to watch you jive

Devil's got a brand new dance
The devil's got a brand new dance
Devil's got a brand new dance
and it looks like you

You say we all took a dip in the ocean
but lost control in the tide
we all start with hearts that are open
till the water sweeps them aside
we all get a little pleasure
laying in the bed of a lie
we all get a little bit higher
on the skeletons that wDevil's Got A Brand New Dance by ~Spencerwritespoems

A Rose By Any Other Name by ~Raqonteur

Trick or TreatJared stood outside on his front porch with a large bowl of candy on his lap. This was his absolutely favorite night of the year – Halloween night.

At nine-years old, one would automatically assume that a boy his age would enjoy dressing up in costumes and going out trick-or-treating. Though he did dress up, Jared never went out. Instead, he chose to be the one to give out candy.

It was nearing six o'clock, the usual time for parents of small children to start bringing their kids around. Not too early that no one would have their doors open, but also not so late that they would be bombarded by the presence of old kids.

Halloween nightTrick or Treat by *MeganLawler94

Tower of Prompts - CONTEST

Poetry: Traditional Forms

A MessageThere are so many things for me to say
And so few syllables to say them in,
But to tell you, I have to find a way
To voice the important parts of this din.
You can tell me that you like me a lot
And you can tell me how far we could go
But liking and love - the same they are not
And stopping means you cannot trust me though.
I understand why you cannot love me
And I understand that it can't be changed
But no understanding can make it be
Any less painful to be so deranged.
You do not know how rejected I feel
To be taken and crushed beneath your heel.A Message by ~wongy06

MasqueradeShe glides into the room,
Her crimson dress flowing.
Body engulfed in a sweet perfume,
Only half of her face showing.

The candles flicker,
Bowing down as she passes.
Heartbeats become quicker,
Every man's affection she amasses.

Her discomfort begins to tell,
For she is not all that she seems.
To herself she has said farewell,
Haunted by the world of dreams.

Behind the mask lies the pain,
The sharp feeling of regret.
Her composure she must maintain,
Try to forgive and forget.Masquerade by ~EnchantedImagination

Forgotten PuppetForget. Forget.
How do you sing,
puppet?

You lie in dust
and death,
your spine has now
long left.

How could you say you once spoke
through pursed lips?
And that you once danced
to songs of laughter?

Your arms are weak from lifelessness,
your buttoned eyes hold no more splendour.

Once the rave of town at twilight,
your cotton gown a Ball-ish ensemble.
Now cramped in permanent midnight,
in mouldy cardboard, lying, crumbled.

Childish sniggers once your parade -
to receive one now would only certify your grave.

You have no soul,
you're merely a tuffet.

How did you sing,
forgotten puppet?Forgotten Puppet by ~Felix-Anima

Quietly, GentlyShy smiles and fluttering butterflies,
My heart would beat faster when I looked into your eyes.
Even then, as I held you warmly in my arms,
Every word you said put me under your charm.
Dozing off, I sent you a little smile.
And told you that it’s fine to fall asleep for a while.

When you awoke, the sun was setting for its own time to sleep.
So I pulled you close and breathed in so deep.
Quietly, in the dark, I slowly fell in love.
Gently in my arms, I called you my little dove.Quietly, Gently by ~TrueFyr

Poetry: Traditional Forms

Poetry: Free Verse

Dry Spell I am immobilized by time.
by the idea that it is somehow slipping,
fleeting,
evaporating
through the cracks of
my fingers and high

above my head.
I am terrified by the incessant notion
that no combination of thoughts,
words,
silences,
or actions
could possibly satiate it.

I realize only now that it can never be filled:
all which is tossed into it is swallowed in haste
or stretched
so far
that it dissolves into non-being.
I find that I am caught within its furrows
much like the words it devoDry Spell by ~HoldTheNoise

So Set Our Shadows Ablaze

In trench-wrapped suit he left,
hurriedly; the hushed clock is fooling no one
knowing well one might end up sobbing.

In lip-biting hesitation she kept
promise shards and vintage grudges bottled up
Awaiting the next heart fission.

Let the tongues do the talking this time
between two lovers a language is resurrected
cold wind only making the inferno grow.

In dishonesty they once drenched
Yet now, ruby port lips numb the leftover kiss
A five-star performance facing vacant cushioned seats.

For a language only drunken fools fathom
yet wise ones too sober to translate
one can only wonder; wandering thoughts in drowning liqueur.

Tight grasp verSo Set Our Shadows Ablaze by ~parisdolly

3am TrainOur discussions ended
always, it seemed
with the 3am train
and the stubborn, falling rain
burying, appeasing, diluting
almost all of our pain
slashing our life noises
being extinguished...
defying our bitter screams to quietness
deafened by rumors of anger growing
crawling over the corners, walls and floor
closing each door
tearing us apart,
reaping our minds and heart
these dark moths resting
where we once were
and love is breaking away
running away
from us day by day
on the ghostly hangar
of the 3am train
there is no more blessed rain
only pain...

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved. 3am Train by ~Kay-March

Dark DreamHide
the moon inside
your pocket
full of dark clouds

Dive
in its depths
now, a blanket
made of black shrouds

Swim
with no regret
to the left
where there is no light

Dim
across an obsidian arc
where the stars were once
... so white

Lay down
beneath and play
the way
between above and under

Surrender your breath
forever
as an everlasting stream
Bender of my dream

*K
MARCH
*Y
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.Dark Dream by ~Kay-March

Poetry: Free Verse

Prose: Fiction

Moon DaughterThe stars have died, lost behind the countless walls of glass that rotate around this center. They have been born again in our midst, blindly imitating growing flowers with their feeble hands, separated from each other by masses of people that light cannot penetrate.
I am crowned with sharp spikes made of silver, countless white flowers with blue hearts wildly fluttering as if real wind could ever reach this deep within the fortress. The floor is made of countless layers of aquariums, where blue and purple fish chase each other.
My feet are adorned with wings set with sapphires like droplets of water. On my eyelids is a touch of a butterfly that sacrificed its wings. On my arms are the furs of countless white foxes that used to wander the arctic circle illuminated by the Northern lights.
As I descend the slope of dreams into the hall of ivy, the fish follow the hollow sound of my steps. The world beneath me is like an endless Sea trapped inside an observatory.
Jewels form into shapes aMoon Daughter by *tulinuotio

Confession At A FuneralConfession At A Funeral
By L.A.Parker
© 2012 L.A.Parker

"Is that coffin open?" asked Alex.

"SHH," said Emmett as he walked into the sun room of Holy Name Funeral Home, with a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. Emmett tried to look sympathetic whenever he passed by the grieving family members of Walter Perkins. The man died of a heart attack at the age of seventy-two and his widow, Marsha Perkins, had decided to combine the reception with the wake. It was sick.

Alex trailed behind Emmett quickly with a tray full of champagne. The alcohol was going faster than the food, but Emmett decided to bring out extra just in case. He Confession At A Funeral by ~LAParker13

The Cave - Chapter 1: Collision

The impact sent a tremor through the ground that was felt by every human being on the face of the earth. Its bulk decimated the land under it, annihilating every living creature between Brazil and Australia in mere seconds. It only actually made contact with the countries of central Africa, but the ripples of shockwaves that swept the land and water was what killed the most people. The "waves" of land were hundreds of feet tall, as were the tsunamis that destroyed everything in their path. From some imaginary vantage point in outer space, the tremors probably looked like the ripples a pebble makes when dropped in a pond.

To the people thThe Cave - Chapter 1: Collision by *MistressofQuills

Emerald Depths - Harry X Luna, Part 2Dear Harry,

How strange that the summer is almost over, and what a hot summer it has been! I got your letter only today, so I’m writing right away so that you’ll get it before you leave for Hogwarts.

My father and I went hunting for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack yesterday, but with no luck. It was fun all the same – he does so enjoy going out to search for his creatures. I think it puts his mind at ease, at least for a time - what with all that’s been going on, he’s been rather distracted and very busy. Actually, we were talking about making plans to do a long-term search next summer, in Sweden! He got quiteEmerald Depths - Harry X Luna, Part 2 by *MistressofQuills

Prose: Fiction

Prose: Non-Fiction

~It takes time to craft a kite that can fly properly. The braces have to be flexible. The tail has to be perfectly balanced. The paper of the kite can't be too thick, or it won't catch the wind, but not too fragile, or else it'd rip at the slightest breeze. It takes time to craft a kite that can fly properly, and sometimes - when I have the delicate frame quivering slightly in my hands - I feel as though I'm breathing life into a lovely, inanimate bird. ~ by ~Moonstruck-stars

Pain.It's at times like these, when I'm surrounded by violence and conflict, that I wish everything we feel could be translated to mere physical pain. I wish that ache and sting and throb doesn't come from fickle emotions and betrayed relationships. Oh, that the weapons were mere swords or bullets, sheer force of will and strength of arm! But no. Instead, they are words, thoughts, feelings – things that tear and shred, wounding deeper than you can imagine, deeper still than anything made of substance…

No. Those wounds injure things not so easily mended…

Before they happen, when you are still naïve, they seem like slight trifles, insignificaPain. by *MistressofQuills

StagesGrief is not something you can just "deal with." It hitches in your throat. Spreads its cold fingers over your skin and doesn't let go. Takes a hold of you that's so strong, you shake and tremble but can't get free. Tears are no comfort. All they do is leave you exhausted. All you can do, in the end, is moan and scream until your voice is gone and your heart is cold. Dead in all but reality.

That's stage 1.

Grief has a way of chilling you so much that you get too numb to feel anything. You become a zombie, going through your life as if it's all just a routine: meaningless. The only reason you do it is so that, at the end of the dayStages by *MistressofQuills

Dear Adult Me.Dear adult me,
I'm tucking this letter safely inside your favorite copy of 'The Dragonlance Series', where I'm sure you're going to find it. Page 241--your page. This book should be worn and weathered by now. I say 'should', because I'm frantically hoping that you're still reading it; because people change and you--we--are no exception.

So, dear future self, it's definitely been a while since I last thought of you. The truth is, I'm afraid to. All those hopeless and overly irrelevant dreams I have right now are probably just a fade memory in your mind. Some of them you probably accomplished. Some others you probably don't even remember; noDear Adult Me. by ~Doritos1996

Prose: Non-Fiction

Scripts and Screenplays

Love of a ThornI only like you when you're not around.
I only like you when we're apart.
When you're only a version of yourself in my mind.
In the hours and the days and the months
we spent together.
Incessantly by each other's side.

All that time, that one whole year I'll never get back.
Oh how I hated everything that you put me through.
Selfish and whiny and immature, you thought I loved you.
In truth, I pitied you.
That's the only reason I stuck by you.

Because being your lover made me SO MUCH BETTER
in other people's eyes.
Because being your friend made me feel like I was
a much better person than who I really am.
Noone elsLove of a Thorn by ~AMMEX

almond teaBlack

SIMON (V.O)
Right, is this on? Hello?

TITLES

INT. Room.
The tripod camera is turned on. It moves around, trying to focus the lens as it does so.

SIMON
Uh…mm…right. Let's see…uh oh!

Black.

TITLES

INT. Room.
Camera comes back on. SIMON waves his hand in front of the lens.

SIMON
Ah, there we go!

The room through the camera lens is a spacey, well-lit room that is large with a big window filtering light. We can hear the casual rush of traffic outside. There is some clutter, but more like artistic mess. It's a nice place; bland but peaceful. SIMON enters, walking round from the back of the camera. He's aalmond tea by ~123Dimensional

Feathery black.SCENE ONE.

[It is a lovely day. Sunshine filters through the open window and covers Natalie's desk with golden warmth. Natalie sits at her desk, one cheek pressed against the cold wooden surface. Her disheveled hair is pinned back with two broken pens. Balls of crumpled paper surround her, as well as several new, empty spirals, a handful of snapped pencils, and some drinking glasses with mold growing at the bottoms.]

Natalie: Where are all the delicious plots that once filled my imagination? They seem to have disappeared. There are no words to catch, no stories to tell! I feel hollow. I feel my existence crumbling away to nothingness! WhatFeathery black. by ~Sze-Kai-di

Scripts and Screenplays

Inspirations: Writer-block Smashers

NaNoWriMo 2012 Calendar by *Kiriska

summer reading by ~vivsters

Down by the Boardwalk by ~mandycorinthos

Knatten by ~Titanica

Inspirations: Writer-block Smashers

Prince Meteor

Prince Meteor: Precursor pt 3 Oaths by ~XeG0

Prince Meteor: Prologue pt 1 Disintegrate by ~XeG0

Prince Meteor: Prologue pt 2 Declaration by ~XeG0

Prince Meteor: Precursor pt 1 Masters by ~XeG0

Prince Meteor

TsO

The square root of -1The room is dark with curved walls, dark blue like the night sky without any stars. Luna awakens and finds herself in a bright purple bubble of glass. She feels empty, blank, completely void of words. She stares uncomprehendingly at other bubbles as brightly hued as her own, her knees hugged to her chest. A bubble tinted with the same shade as a cloudless sky floats past her, containing a pixie-like girl still asleep. Her petite form's curled into the same knee-to-chest position as Luna's. Where am I? What's going on...? A pale emerald bubble floats past her carrying a similar pixie girl, followed by a scarlet bubble, a gold bubble, a dark grThe square root of -1 by ~Sze-Kai-di

0.5"You hate me, don't you?" she purrs, her tail wrapping around his neck. He pries it off with an unnervingly gorgeous smile. "It's time to go," he replies, offering one arm to her. "Where to?" she inquires, eyeing him. He laughs. "To see the fireworks, of course. They're particularly stunning this late in the evening." She accepts his arm with hers, and immediately bursts into flames. The pyromaniac steps back, watching calmly fireworks of a brilliant red bursting from her body in an explosion of festivity. "They're particularly stunning this late in the evening," he repeats. His pixie-like accomplice appears beside him, mesmerized by the incr0.5 by ~Sze-Kai-di

0.3At first, the thief can only perceive a streak of gray that fills his eye sockets and pierces his pupils with the crisp haughtiness of steel. A scream tears his throat, but silence continues to reign. He feels an arm wrapping tightly around his neck. “Where are the Felines?” a voice whispers gratingly into his ear. Pristine knives with impossibly sharpened tips flood his vision. What? Felines? What felines? Sweat drips down his Adam's apple. Christ, the thing's gonna kill me if I don't talk! he thinks with panic. Quick quick quick – “Uh, the cats went that w-way.” He points down the darkened streets with one trem0.3 by ~Sze-Kai-di

0.1"Hello.

That's always a great start, isn't it? I don't talk to others very much. What hinders my ability to socialize? Maybe it's my reluctance to fit in, my shyness, or my natural introversion. When I speak above a murmur, my throat hurts as though I've shouted, and I go dizzy from the ringing of my voice in my ears. Solitude and silence are pleasurable enough for me to forgive myself.

I'm a typical, plain-faced person. I not only have the desire to meet and befriend truly beautiful people, but I also have a obsession with white roses. The lack of color itself is exquisite to me. I'm known by a few others to give roses to those who deserve0.1 by ~Sze-Kai-di

TsO

Pain's Fangs

Pain's Fangs - Part 4: Chosen

"Please name the six Kivuli in order from strongest to weakest," my tutor said, looking down at me with eyes the color of fall leaves in sunlight.

"Blue, grey, green, amber, brown, black," I responded obediently in my 6-year-old soprano voice.

"And tell me; what are the Kivuli, Miss Tori?"

"The six colors the eyes of our race, the Dynami, are born with to indicate the level of power they will possess when their powers have been fully awakened," I said, reciting the definition from memory.

"Very good, little lady!" I beamed at the praise and looked down eagerly at the chart she placed on the desk in front of me. "Will you please read thiPain's Fangs - Part 4: Chosen by *MistressofQuills

Pain's Fangs - Part 5: Orders

I leapt back, my Master's sword missing my ribs by less than an inch, and quickly regained my balance, ready for her next strike. We faced each other, swords raised in the ready position, feet wide apart, shoulders squared. Her emerald eyes met mine in a searching glare, trying to discern my next move as I glared back, trying every bit as hard to read her. Before the fight had begun, she told me the rules for this sparring match were simple: not to use any of my Dynami mind abilities, and not to hold back. I'm having more trouble with the first rule than the second, since I'm used to using my abilities constantly, every second of every daPain's Fangs - Part 5: Orders by *MistressofQuills

Pain's Fangs - Part 6: Screams and Revelations by *MistressofQuills

Pain's Fangs - Part 7: Amaya

Tears poured down my heart, but not my cheeks as I looked down at the unconscious innocent in my arms. I had long since lost all reason to outwardly display emotion. Reason… a cold word. What reason is there for letting emotions show? Some would say it's just something you can't control at times… But is that true? Why do tears fall when you don't want your loved one to know you're suffering? Why does anger color your face when you want others to think you're calm and unruffled? Why is love so hard to hide, even when that love is not reciprocated? I don't think emotion is "uncontrollable." No: I think most people are just tPain's Fangs - Part 7: Amaya by *MistressofQuills

Pain's Fangs

Camp Nano '13

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Group Info

This is a group for those who enjoy writing prose and poetry, for those who speak in metaphors and live in a surreal fantasy world parallel to reality.

Group
Founded 9 Months ago
Aug 10, 2012

Location
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Group Focus
Common Interest

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CAMP NANOWRIMO!

by ~Sze-Kai-di, Mar 16, 2013, 3:16:21 PM
Journals / Personal

Yeah! Who's trying it out this year? Camp Nano: the s'mores and cabin version of Nanowrimo, where all try to write 50k words - a novel, basically - in a month. It starts April 2013!