Finish the story, earn 2 steembasicincome shares! DAY #6

in #freewrite6 years ago (edited)

Finish the sentence - earn SBI shares and upvotes!.v1.png

Dear friends, thanks to you all for participating to day #5! Last week it's been a great fun and you have exceeded yourself! I admired your vivid creativity which outmatched my first part of the freewrite.

This week I will confirm a pot of 2 SBI per day of contest: let me share the fun and wealth as much as I can with all of you freewriters!

Here is how this contest works:

1. I write an unfinished fiction story/freewrite

2. You finish it with a comment in the comment section (relax..no long stuff needed!)

3. I will donate up to 2 @steembasicincome shares to the freewriters with the most interesting, fun, original, crazy ending (I'm the unquestionable judge. Well, technically not me.. the bananafish voices within my head are).

It's super simple and I hope we'll have loads of fun together! Basically you comment, as you always did, just this time you can be rewarded with one or even two SBI share!
Nothing is mandatory here..Just enjoy and prepare for a trip into my delirious fiction world!

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For those that don't know what the @steembasicincome is, we're talking about a great project run by @josephsavage which - based on your amount of shares in it - will grant you a permanent vote on all your posts!

Here you will find their most recent post with details

Steem Basic Income is a social experiment to bring a basic income to as many Steemians as possible. Members join by sponsoring others into the program. Steem Basic Income is delivered through providing regular upvotes to member content.

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Too much writing! Here's the story based on @mariannewest today's prompt "artichoke":

The guttural cries and the trivial drum sounds came from the containment pit, like a fist throwing toward the sky.
The darkness of the eclypse penetrated through what looked like a distorted St. Patrick well, made of steel sheets and gears fused with each other.
It was said that the origin of that enormous hole in the middle of the Western Erg was to reconnect with the core melting of an ancient experimental nuclear power plant. The frightful wound created would never be recovered. While the uranium bars continued to eat the bowels of the earth, that cursed place became the centre of the tournament where warriors, strengthened by technological progress, were exposed to new challenges.

Down in the well's bottom, in the cold and sinister obscurity of the eclipse, the sounds of blades hissed and whistled, leaving beams of evanescent light on the retina of the spectators' eyes. The two Masters had abandoned long-range weapons and had gone into combat at close range. There was something hypnotic and fascinating in their synchronised and harmonious movements. The Dai-Katana of Mastro Zekhie, known as the black heron, did not need to strike with precision, being implemented with a destructive vibration that spread through a considerable radius around the sword. The red warrior, on the other hand, was much more supple and fluid in his movements, even though, at the moment, he seemed to find himself in increasing difficulty. Despite the speedy twist, which aimed to hit the opponent's back, now the warrior clearly began to withdraw. Mastro Zekhie, after a series of revolutions in full charge, was now preparing for the final thrust towards the sternum of the contender.

"Artichoke". In a fraction of a second, the black heron's mind registered with horror the black object that was unfolding between its legs, almost unnoticed. All caught up in the attack had not noticed that the red warrior had dropped while backing a grenade with selective electromagnetic explosion, nicknamed artichoke.

The petals of the weapon instantly hugged Zekhie's exoskeleton. An impressive vibration was emanating ever louder. He was still and reacting trying frantically to reconfigure his exoskeleton internally in the few remaining seconds at his disposal. The red warrior looked placid, unable to approach, and left the petals of the artichoke the tranquillity of carrying out their deadly work.

"That technique, those movements," thought the black heron widening his eyes overwhelmed by intuition, just before the thunder made the ears of the spectators in the front rows bleed. Blinding light. Explosion.

The smoke was thinning. Stunted but very clear, from the shapeless mass that had been Mastro Zekhie came a name: "Miriam ..".
The red warrior winced.

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Also this week, I will run 3 rounds of this contest: mon/tue/wed. All the results of this week will be out on Monday 12th March, 11 pm, UTC +1 (i.e. California is UTC -8).

And now, dear friends, it's time to unfold your artichokes and let the journey begin!

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First of all, tip! I'm overwhelmed by the variety and the complexity of the stories you post in your contest. It's not easy to finish them in a worthy and coherent way. I wanted to do all the 3 of this week in a row, but coming at the third I'm completely drained. But, I give it a try ;)


The red warrior shouted:

"How do you know that name?! How?!"

But it was too late for the answers. The mangled flesh of the Black Heron, devastated by the artichoke, was lying, still, in the arena.

The red warrior typed frantically on the digital opening of the helmet, heedless of the hoarse voice of the auctioneer who was proclaiming the victory. A cascade of sweaty green hair was unleashed around a woman's face. The audience rumbled in amazement.

The red warrior bent over her opponent's corpse, and caught something between the contracted fingers of his right hand. In the spasms of agony, he had left the handle of the Dai-katana and grabbed something else.

That day, everybody thought that Scarleopard had taken a trophy out of the body of her opponent, as it was usual in the pits. But the small piece of silver was something much more for her. It matched perfectly with the other half, that she wore hanging on a necklace since she was eight years old.

The two halves, together, were forming a laser decorated medallion. In its front, there was an engraving of a proudly looking woman and a name, Miriam. In the back, there was a tiny map.

Now, after eighteen years from her disappearence, she had a track to follow the legendary Miriam Myrmidon, her first and incomparable combat teacher.

Fuuuuuuuuux! This is the beginning of a best seller..I think it's better than Martins (please supreme God, don't look in the direction of this comment, don't kill another couple of characters for my pride). We need to talk.

Fantastic Marco! I like the setup for Scarleopard's journey! Please write more!

Just here to share my love.

Appreciated my friend!

Very nice post

Thanks Sonia! 👍

Where is she? Where is Miriam? Yelled the red warrior. She had been taken from him at an early age, and now he would never find his way to her. He tried to searched Zekhie's body for a clue, but there was nothing left of him. The tiny thorns from "Artichoke" kept the red warrior at bay, one prick could paralyze him for weeks. Now his mission had changed to finding his beloved, Miriam, she must be alive...

Thanks for doing this!, here is my take.

They called it the blood-well. In these days of post-apocalyptic desperation there were death-battles around the clock. Some gladiators fought for the money, but many were slaves trained in brutality since childhood. Some unfortunate souls were controlled by Lykhee.

The Lykhee were war-lords who controlled the bodies of slaves during battles. The slaves were injected with microbots, who embedded themselves into the brain. The microbot injected slaves would mirror the movements of their owner, who could see through the eyes of the slaves and “fought” from the safety of their bunkers.

The crumpled smoking body had regained control from the microbots in her last moments, and had spoken her name, Miriam. The Red Warrior rushed to her side, but she was gone. The Red Warrior cradled his half-sister, weeping silently. His fists clenched in anger, and he screamed out a challenge which made the crowd fall silent.

He called for the Lykhee to face him. He would not leave the arena, but paced angrily, shouting for vengeance. The announcer, sweating profusely, tried to clear the arena of the spectators, then offered the Red Warrior more money, begging him to leave. The Red Warrior only shouted all the louder, and the audience remained, the call for justice had stirred something deep in their souls. They joined in the cry, chanting, “LYKHEE, LYKHEE, LYHEE...”

The Red Warrior was tired, exhausted by the battle that had drained him physically and emotionally, but he knew this was his only chance for justice, and it was long overdue.

You gave a wider breath to the story, nice and thank you for your interesting contribution @giddyupngo!

This is such a great concept @f3nix. I think you should make a video explaining this opportunity..

Thank you @kofibeatz .. @steembasicincome is a wonderful concept and writing fiction is too :-) feel free to give it a try!

Perhaps i should give it a crack

Wow. That was intense. Your descriptions when writing are incredible. I may have to come back later and contribute!

Also, I'm here to deliver today's prompt as well Daily Prompt #140

Thank you dear, would be nice ad you're one of the finest fiction writers here around 🍌🐠👍

That name......that name.....how in the name of all that is holy did he know that name? Her vision began to swim and a lightheaded fog began to envelop her senses as she slowly slipped away from consciousness.

Upon the undulating oceans that churn throughout the dream world her mind was free to explore that long ago memory of a time before the brutality, before the pain, before her destiny came to steal her away in the night like a thief. Back to a time of normality, where she was just trying to pass as a poet and when he was the quintessential artists stained by the colorful tools of his trade. They had known a brief night of purity and abandon and in that moment she gently whispered her true name into his sleeping ear. She had never uttered before and vowed to not do so again until they were reunited. She never took into account that their reunion would be the cause of his demise at her once gentle hands. A solitary tear rolled down her scarred and sweaty face....a tear shed for her innocence lost.

This is better than my version (which I always have in mind)... Silence..just wow. Feelings and fine writing technique, a great and real thank you for your contribution @papacrusher!

@f3nix thank you so much for the compliment and the amazing opportunity of this contest. I'm looking forward to your future finish the story and I followed you to make sure I didn't miss them!

Followed you also asap I finished to read your story. My next one will be next monday with the results, but feel free to partecipate to last mon and tue ones too 👍

The utterance of that name , of her name, had sliced away any doubts the red warrior held. Mastro Zekhie, with his utterance, had confirmed that he was the unnamed man. The only person who her teacher, her mother, had ever gifted with her true name.

She had been told of him through the years, through the training. The nights on the log, learning balance to the quiet descriptions of his grace. The races through the twisted brambles in the woods, running from the boars the same way he had taught her mother. Dinners taken by the fire, broiled saury, his favorite, because that was the only thing he could ever catch. And the most difficult, learning to cry in silence. The last lesson he had given when he walked away, leaving his so called "beloved" behind, alone and bleeding in a den of snakes.

As the red warrior looked on at the smoldering remains of her opponent, her father, a breaking sorrow filled her. Not for the man, but for the answers that her mother would never have.

So he was her father!! But a bastard one it seems.. uhm very intense family story. But most of all I would like to taste some broiled saury!!Thank you Bris for being here and for your support of these days ☺️

Whoops! Seems I used utterance twice! Tsk tsk tsk, I'll have to pay better attention next time. I've never had saury, I wonder how it tastes? You're welcome F3nix, and the same to you. :)

We have a place here in Italy called Sauris and they produce a very nice ham.. shall we ask them? Oh..yes that utterance.. i think I'll never forgive you for that! 😜

Hi @f3nix! You have received 0.1 SBD tip from @marcoriccardi!

@marcoriccardi wrote lately about: Artichokes - 5 Minute Freewrite Day 139 Feel free to follow @marcoriccardi if you like it :)

You can now delegate SP / invest in @tipU for daily profit:) Click here to learn more :)

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