Grey's Great Fanfiction Writing Competions

[The Grey Coincidence]

Hello people of the forum. I am Grey, resident mean bean and lurker. I am here to do something that wiiiiill hopefully get you all excited about this, sadly underused (BUT IT's MAKING PROGRESS!!!) part of the forum.

I, the amazing and very humble coincidence, will be running a new contest in-line with my upload schedule. That is to say, there will be a new one every ten days.

I intend for these to be short little things that inspire creativity rather than hog it so I'm going to keep this simple. I will select a random prompt from a pile I have stashed somewhere and any who wish to compete can do so within the time-frame. All submissions will be sent to me via PM so that I can upload them all at once, once the deadline has passed.

For the time being I am content being the only judge- but if someone wants to hop into the hot seat they're more than welcome to. Which brings me to my next point. The reason you will all be excited to compete, of course. THE GRAND PRIIIIIZE!

Now, as you all know I am the best artist ever. So, whoever wins the contest is allowed to 'commision' a piece of art from me.

Several more mini-rules. Pleeeease keep your submissions short. No more than 1000 words (and even something that long would make me go <.<)  This is because hopefully lots of people will submit stuff and I don't want to be judging novels just yet!

So. The first prompt for those brave enough- you have until the end of August for this one- iiiiiiiiiiiis:

Create a character.

Now, this does not mean you go and give me stuff like 'name, background, species etc' as you would on an RP thread. No. You will write a scene with an original character that has never been seen before. They can be literally anything (mouse, rat, mouse-rat hybrid) but they have to be a character. I don't just want their name. I want a scene that captures *them*, a snapshot of their life that shows me who they are. I want to see their personality, their ticks, their relationships, their hopes, their dreams, their goals, their challenges. All in one scene that's less than a thousand words long.

Are you up to the challenge?

[Sebias of Redwall]

Ooh! What an exciting idea! You have piqued my interest.

[shisteer of nothing much]

I'm keen. Better get writing, I guess.

[Cornflower MM]

*Raises hand * I'm up for guest judging. Also, Imma pin this.

[Sebias of Redwall]

Nice! Pinning it is a great idea.

[The Grey Coincidence]

Coolio Corn!

That means yall have to send Corn your submissions too guys

[MathLuk]

Consider me intrigued - I'm joining in!

[The Grey Coincidence]

Alrighty, small reminder guys the deadline is tommorow at four twenty three pm and seven seconds my time. So youve got a bit more than twenty four hours to get submissions in.

To those who have submitted so far, well done! I'm quite impressed!

[The Grey Coincidence]

Double-post, but it's my thread with my name on it. I can do what I want. Might makes right. My power here is unlimited.

The deadline to my first prompt has passed, having said that I plan on announcing the winner upon the close of the next prompt- both to give me and Corn some time to do some good ole judgidy judging, and because I know somebeast lazy was working on something they never got around to submitting. So! Deadline isn't over yet. You still have time folks.

I will however, go ahead and post up the first two submissions. You both get bonus points for getting in ahead of the deadline- which means if all else is equal in later submissions, you win.

Cuthbert

Abbot Cuthbert had always had a dislike for the darker hours of the day. It could be attributed to many things. A sudden decrease in sleep quality. A drop in temperature that crept into the Abbey. A mountain of paperwork that can only be sorted out after the sun has fled from the sky.

But strangely enough, this one managed to be worse than all the others.

It all started when one of the Redwall guests started coughing just after supper. Kiormund Streambattle, being a Southerner, was not used to the cold, dry air of Mossflower. He stood no chance against his first asthmatic attack.

Cuthbert's first response was to give the otter a bit of air, after ordering him to calm down. Five minutes had passed before the Redwallers were able to escort him to the infirmary, and he was able to a warm room, a warm drink and some warm rest.

The infirmary steps seemed to be infinite as Cuthbert made his way up. By Martin, the pup's parents will skin me alive if anything happens to him! The otter took a deep breath, then opened the door to the sick hall.

"Good evenin', Kiormun'," said the abbot. "I trust yore feelin' better, right?"

The otter in the sickbed perked up at the sight of Cuthbert, as did the vixen beside him. Being a former member of a vermin horde, Graha did not start out as a welcome addition to the Abbey. Still, Kiormund liked and accepted her, and persuaded most of the Abbey to do the latter, if not the former.

"Yes, Father Abbot." Kiormund smiled and nodded, coaxing a smile from Cuthbert. "I'm feeling much better. Thank you for caring for me."

"Aww, it's nothing, matey!" Cuthbert grabbed a chair and sat down at Kiormund's left. "You almost gave us all a 'eart attack there, but I'm glad everything's alright now."

"Maybe you shuddn't - should not have gone for cold drinks on a cold day?" asked Graha, leading to an awkward chuckle from Kiormund. The vixen was quick to shed her accent, ignoring Cuthbert's reminder that it would not be necessary for her to do so.

The young otter rubbed his head. "In hindsight, that probably wasn't my best decision."

"Well, I'm very glad t' see that yore fine," said Cuthbert. "When it snows again, just be sure t' stay indoors, an' beside a warm fire. Oh, and Graha?"

"Yes?" The fox's ears perked up.

"Come with me. I've got somethin' t' tell ye."

The abbot and the vixen bade Kiormund farewell, and they traversed the halls of Redwall together. Red sandstone paved the way to their destination, and snow covered the Lawns. It took around a minute until woodlander and vermin stopped at the door of the dormitories.

"Now, Graha, why did you apply to be a novice here at Redwall?" asked Cuthbert.

"Oh. Er, I just..." The vixen's voice trailed off. "I just wanted ter belong here."

"Belong?" It seemed to Cuthbert that it was one of those moments that he wished Redwall had a badgermum. "Yore working towards there. Yeve been 'ere for nine months, and yore not just 'the vermin' to everybeast. Yore Graha the vixen!"

"I just want to be 'Graha'." The fox frowned. "Maybe 'Sister Graha'. But I want to be something more than just 'the first vermin to stay in Redwall for the better part of a season without ruining everything'. I am simply a fox who wants to learn more."

"I understan'," said Cuthbert. "I'm just worried."

"Why?" asked Graha. "Scared of vermin 'ruining everything'? I know that you got your position by generously not slaughtering all of us, but deep down-"

"The only woodlander who's scared of ye was Kiormun', and he's scared of everyone." Cuthbert crouched down to look the vixen in the eyes. "I'm simply worried that your family won't let you stay here forever."

"I'll think they'll understand."

"It would be a good idea for ye to visit them then." Cuthbert smiled. "They'll love havin' their dearest Graha back, won't they?"

"Yeah." Graha nodded. "I had better go to bed."

Cuthbert sighed. It would take quite a while before he would talk to her again. "Sleep well."

He turned to the lawn and watched the snow fall as the vixen shut the door to the dormitories. Flake by flake descended onto the blanched lawn, and they swallowed the grass below them. It hurt Cuthbert that he had never known how beautiful Redwall Abbey could be on a winter night.

The Abbot thought of the otterpup he had failed to care for, the vixen who he had failed to understand, and the faces of those who had forced the position of Abbot on him, just for doing what any goodbeast would do. Oh Martin, forgive them for what they've done.

Then, gently and silently, Cuthbert wept. 

[close]

Dengor

"The poem?"
  Dengor rolled his eyes at the question, grinning at his dad and reciting the rather obvious saying that he'd been brought up with his entire life.
  "Left without water, a beast will go mad.
  "Thirst must be quenched for the mind to be sane.
  "Beast has been made, both the good and the bad,
  "to help and to love. Let us do the same."
  The warrior nodded, holding his son's gaze seriously.
  "Good. Have you figured it out yet?"
  Dengor shrugged the matter aside and gestured at the oiled canvas package, still smiling.
  "Of course I have! You and Memee have drilled it into me since before I could speak! What's in the packet?"
  The father shook his head, his mind going back to his own seasons as a young badger, full of energy and empty of wisdom. Dengor would learn, just as he had done. His heart was in the right place and his paws would surely follow. Nudging himself a little before he had a chance to wander past days, the badger thrust the carefully crafted package into his son's waiting paws, chuckling at the younger beast's excitement.
  "If you remember what you've been taught, it will be useful to you. If you go astray, it will be a rod to your own back. Keep your mind clean and your heart cleaner and, above all, love. If you love deep enough, you'll never lack strength."
  Dengor looked up briefly from his work on the string holding the wrappings on.
  "Yeah dad. You've told me a hundred times already."
  Then the canvas finally fell away and Dengor's eyes widened, hesitating in their enthusiasm. Before him lay a sword. Unadorned with jewels or finery, but no doubt razor sharp and perfectly balanced beneath the leather sheath. It was just as he'd always wanted! He could be a warrior now, like his father! It would be his job to look after the family! He would keep everybeast safe and be a true guardian! Because...
  Dengor looked up at his father. Strong, faithful, forgiving, loving. His mind went back to the previous day, when he'd yelled at him and told him that he didn't need him anymore, that he should go away and mind his own business. His father was giving him a sword of his own because he'd need it. Before, he had always trained with his father's sword. His father always said he could use his sword if he needed a weapon. Now...
  "You're going away, aren't you?"
  The older badger regarded his son quietly, solemnly. They had all known the time would come. Before he had a time to respond, Dengor's paws were around him and he was sobbing.
  "I'm sorry! I didn't mean what I said! I was angry and it was wrong! Don't go! I'm- I'm not ready to have a sword! I don't want it! Your one is better!"
  The two badgers held each other, father and son embracing for perhaps the last time. Neither knew their fate, but they both knew they wouldn't see each other for a very long while.
  "It is time. The thirst is too much and I must leave. One day you will also have this thirst and then you will come. It may be after I die, or it may be we can spend a few seasons together. If not, my spirit will always be there to guide you. My teachings will stay in your heart and lead you."
  Dengor nodded understanding as he quickly wiped away his tears, ashamed now that he had been crying like a hogwife. He chanced a peek at his father, afraid to see the disapproval at his weakness. The young badger's vision blurred again as he saw the old warrior's face creased, not with disappointment or judgement, but with tears of his own.
  In all his seventeen seasons, Dengor had never seen his father cry. The sight broke his heart and warmed his soul. The love his father had for him was seared into his memory and he knew, instinctively, that he'd never forget it.

[close]

And I am going to launch my second prompt! Due in for the tenth of september, but actually the twentieth. And that prompt iiiiiis...

*Drumroll*

The prompt iiiiiiis....

*Drumroll*

DRUMROLL! The name of the prompt is 'Drumroll'.  (Slaps knee because I had you guys in the first half, not gonna lie.).

No. I did not think of this on the spot.

Anyways, 'Drumroll', write a scene revolving around and or incorporating music of some kind (it doesn't need to be a drum, mind, just any kind of music). It could be characters commenting on the quality of an opera, having a rap battle, singing like that badger (?) from Mariel of Redwall who's voice could curdle milk, and so on, so forth. The possibilities are endless!

[shisteer of nothing much]

Oh, fascinating! (Yes, you definitely had me for the first half)
Just to be clear, this one is still only allowed a thousand words, max, yeah?

(Also, you spelt competitions wrong in the thread title)

[The Grey Coincidence]

Hmmm, I think I'll extend it to one thousand five hundred at most- I'm not gonna be oh so strict about word counts and check every submission on a word counter- the limit is mostly there so that noone goes crazy and gets too carried away by the prompt.

Also, also! Here's the third submission.

Ailwin

Ailwin gulped as the hut came into view. The stoat's cloak was filthy and tattered, as was the rest of him. His steps grew slower and slower as he neared his destination. The vermin stopped dead in his tracks, glancing back at the path behind him. Would his family want him back? How had things changed in the two seasons that he'd been gone? Why hadn't they visited him in prison? The questions battered his mind, refusing to go away.

He shook himself. He could do this. Forcing his footpaws forward, he walked up to the door of the dwelling.

The stoat lifted his paw to knock, but stopped midair as he heard the sound of playful squeaks from inside the hut. On second thought... Ailwin scurried over to one of the windows, peeking through it. A pair of young stoat children were running around a table, playing a game of tag. Fates, they've grown! Ailwin's fangs drew up in a smile. They looked so happy. Seeing his children's faces again gave him the courage he needed to dart back over to the door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

He winced as the sound of the children's squealing cut off, replaced with calls.

"Mama! Somebeast is at th' door!"

A few moments later, and the door handle began to turn, slowly opening to reveal a stoatwife wiping her paws on her apron. She squinted her eyes for a moment at Ailwin, then recognition dawned on her. Her eyes widened and she gasped. "A-Ailwin? Is that really ye?"

"Aye, it's me." Joy fluttered in his chest. "I'm 'ome."

Her mouth abruptly drew into a frown. "Ye?" she scowled, eyes narrowing, "What are ye doing back 'ere?"
Ailwin winced at her cold words. "Naira , please, let me explain..."

"No," Naira  said flatly, stepping back. "Ye're nothin' but a thief."

It was all Ailwin could do to stop her from slamming the door on his face as he took a step forward. "I can explain! Please wait! I only tried stealin' th' gold 'cause I wanted t' give ye 'n' th' children a better life." He wrung his paws. "I was put in Elm Bark prison all this time. There wasn't a day I wasn't thinkin' about ye all. I traveled 'ere th' moment they released me."

Naira  looked past him. "I knew ye were in Elm Bark Prison."

Ailwin stared at his wife blankly. "Ye... knew? Why... Why didn't y' ever visit? I thought--"

"--Ye were a fool t' 'ave done what y' did. What did y' expect th' city officials t' do? Ye knew they'd be forced t' clap ye in irons fer such a crime! Our children would've starved because o' yer stupidity if it wasn't fer me! I worked t' th' bone t' keep my children fed."

"B-but I did it all fer ye!" Tears welled up in Ailwin's eyes. "We needed th' money. Y-ye know that."

"Well no wonder! Y' were a drunkard, Ailwin! A filthy drunkard!" Naira  spat. "We wouldn't have been so in debt in th' first place if y' hadn't--"

"--But I've changed! I... I will change. Please..." He touched her arm. "Please give me another chance."

Naira  looked torn for a brief moment, gazing at Ailwin. He thought he saw a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. But then just like that, the moment was gone. She blinked, fiercely wiping her eyes. "No. I won't ever let y' hurt us again." Before the shocked stoat could reply, she pushed him back and slammed the door, locking it.
The stoat stood there silently, simply staring at the door.

"Mama, who wa' dat?" a small voice asked faintly from the other side.

"Was tha' really our father?" another asked, "I thought y' said he was deaded... W-why didn't y' let 'im in?"

Naira  sounded close to tears as she replied, "I told ye, yer father is dead. That stoat... He was just a wicked liar."

Ailwin slumped to the ground as Naira  continued on, telling the two young ones to get away from the door and to try their best to forget about the incident.

She's right, Ailwin thought, Maybe that's who I had been. He couldn't blame her for not trusting him. But yet, the stoat wasn't ready to give up. Not yet. As a beast had once told him - ages ago, it seemed like - that it was never too late to change. He would wait right outside this door, come rain or wind, and wait until he had a chance to prove himself to his family.

[close]

[The Grey Coincidence]

Here's a not-so-friendly reminder that the deadline is fast approaching. Get to work peeps, or suffer the consequences!

And here's also the rankings of the last contest...

Corn's Judgement

Dengor:       I feel like I'm looking at a prologue for a story. It's wonderful and I really enjoy it, no doubt about that, but as I'm reading this I feel like it's just setting up this character for something else. Instead of fully going in and creating Dengor now,  it's like laying building blocks to really flesh him out and explore him later  if that makes sense.

Cuthbert:          I actually really like this look into Abbot Cuthbert. The first time reading it through I was a little confused on where the focus was but that cleared up by the end. THE ANNONYMOUS AUTHOR does a really good job at showing Cuthbert's thoughts and struggles in such a short time - I feel like I know Cuthbert much better than I would normally know a character from a piece this short.

Ailwin:        Same thing as Dengor for me, really, just a bit less so. It seems more like a backstory than really fleshing Ailwin out. It's explaining the reasoning behind future Ailwin, but not that great of a look into Ailwin as he is at the time of the story, although there is tidbits that sneak through. It definitely gets better in that regard towards the end.

[close]

MY JUDGEMENT!!!!

Dengor, I think from a technical standpoint (which is funny because I know very little about technical writings) is the best. Or at least, the prose flows smoother and the whole thing feels more like what you'd find in an actual novel of sorts. I think it suffers a little by dividing the audience's attention between Dengor and his father- who is the main character? Dengor? His father? What Corn said about this working as more of a backstory rather than as a character introduction holds truth. We do get to see his worries and bits of his personality, and his relationship with his father and I find the concept of leaving for Salamandastron very interesting and definetly something I don't see enough of, and it is ten out of ten writing- it just doesn't fit the prompt as well as the other two do.


I'm going to say hands down that Ailwin is my favourite of the three character-wise. His is a story I want to read. How will he prove that he's changed to his wife? Has he in fact changed at all, or is he only trying to fool himself? It's a very good character introduction that, as Corn sort of said, suffers from being too focused on what happened and what he hopes to happen and too little on who he is now. We understand he left and wants to rejoin his family- but we don't really have all the whys of that. He's a more interesting character than Dengor and more of him is fleshed out, but yes, this is prologue/backstory stuff. Which isn't bad, just not what I was looking for. Also this was a late submission -.-

Cuthbert... In a way this piece fit the prompt the best. I'm just going to be nitpicky and disqualify it entirely because, shock and horror, Abbot Cuthbert isn't an original character and I've already read him some. I note needed someone new! NEVER BEFORE SEEN! (Waycaster wrote this!!!!)

Jokes aside, I agree with Corn's rankings. At the end of each short we know more about Cuthbert than the other two. Ailwin has the more interesting story, and more potential, Dengor has got better prose and a more interesting concept, but Cuthbert as otherwise simple a character as he is, goes through a lot in here- nothing happens happens and it's mostly dialogue, but we know him by the end of it and that was the whole point of the character creation excercise.

[close]

Final rankings

Third place, Dengor

Second place, Ailwin,

First place and prize winner, Cuthbert

[close]

Thank you to all who submitted! I hope you all have something ready for next time- also Corn is joining me for judging again so make sure to page your submissions to her as well as me. Grand winner, you may now make your request.

[The Grey Coincidence]

I DECLARE A ROUND OF INSTANT DEATH!!!

The deadline has passed, the second deadline has passed, and I have recieved zero submissions (insert Rolf emoji). Sooooo I'm going to do something a bit more interesting this time around to, hopefully, kick some action into this.

In short, the first person to submit something, wins. But because this is still a writing competition I will add that the submission has to be at least 500 words- that way it's still a biiiit of a race.

Happy writing!

[Sebias of Redwall]

Sounds exciting! 

[The Grey Coincidence]

Sounds exciting! 

Positively riveting. I'm practically jumping out of my skin with anticipation.

In other words it's a good thing I'm not holding my breath on these...