PLAYERS TASKS PRAXIS TEAMS EVENTS
Username:Password:
New player? Sign Up Here
Ink Tea
Clockwatcher
Level 4: 495 points
Alltime Score: 7336 points
Last Logged In: March 23rd, 2025
BADGE: Journey To The End Of The Night Organizer TEAM: The Disorganised Guerilla War On Boredom and Normality TEAM: MNZero TEAM: Society for the Superior Completion of Tasks TEAM: Group Creation Public Badge TEAM: Team Shplank TEAM: SFØ Société Photographique TEAM: SCIENCE! TEAM: LØVE TEAM: Game of Deception TEAM: Probot TEAM: Public Library Zero TEAM: SF0 Skypeness! TEAM: Verbosely Loquacious Overelaberators TEAM: Bike EquivalenZ Rank 1: User Chrononautic Exxon Rank 1: Clockwatcher
highscore

retired

15 + 35 points

Microfiction by Ink Tea

May 25th, 2007 8:29 AM

INSTRUCTIONS: Write a very short piece of fiction. It should be less than 200 words. Post the piece as your proof, and send it to one other player.

And if she pressed her lips against one man or another, did it matter? One man’s mouth might not taste like another, a Marlboro mastication long awaited on the dance floor, or a needy osculation stolen underneath a tree. In the end, though, solitude always had the same flavor.
She dyed her hair burgundy, traded sneakers for Cuban-toe, a melodious laugh for a sly smile, and wore new prettiness like a heavy cape- both a disguise and a protection.
“Earnest,” she murmured, or perhaps she’d said “Ernest.” Her heels snapped on the sidewalk more quickly than may have been appropriate to the soft yellow skirts that now billowed behind her.
The revolver made a soft crunch, falling in among fast food refuse and discarded shopping bags. The younger man waited amongst peach colored tulips, holding a wicker basket. Her footsteps were soft when she reached him, and she fingered the pack of Marlboros in the depths of her floral purse.
One coffin nail smouldered in the fingers of a dead man. His cheeks still wet with tears; he would not be the last.
The younger man spread the gingham, ignorant and sunny.
One man or another, did it matter?

- smaller


7 vote(s)



Terms

(none yet)

18 comment(s)

PICTURE NOT TAKEN FOR TASK -1
posted by Ohrlyeh Totenkinder on May 25th, 2007 8:33 AM

NO VOTES!!

199
posted by Burn Unit on May 25th, 2007 8:35 AM

And totally hard core!
now, to whom have you sent it?

(no subject)
posted by Ink Tea on May 25th, 2007 8:35 AM

I feel a bit like a cheat, because I usually write in short chunks. So I pushed myself to write 199 words' worth.

aggh!
posted by Burn Unit on May 25th, 2007 8:38 AM

The RUBINS they're mickey frickin everywhere! I have NO IDEA, that could be the "real" Rubin complaining about this task, it might as well be given the nature of the comment, but it could be Anyone. We've all gone MAD.

In any case, that could be a picture for something else, and she created this fiction about it. That's tomfoolery, I say, mr. "Rubin"!

(no subject)
posted by Ink Tea on May 25th, 2007 8:38 AM

It's on its way to Ziggy C, who prodded me to do more tasks, in spite of being too busy.

(no subject)
posted by Ink Tea on May 25th, 2007 8:39 AM

It's not Rubin. It's MFC. I'm not sure why it matters that the image wasn't taken for the task- the image is really just icing, something to add to the mood. I never claimed the image was taken for the task.

FUCK YOU BOTH!!
posted by Ohrlyeh Totenkinder on May 25th, 2007 8:45 AM

NO VOTES!!

(no subject)
posted by Burn Unit on May 25th, 2007 8:47 AM

inky poo, I know it's not actually rubin! haven't you looked at the players lists lately?

FUCK YOU BOTH!!
posted by Ohrlyeh Totenkinder on May 25th, 2007 8:51 AM

NO VOTES!!

(no subject)
posted by Ink Tea on May 25th, 2007 8:56 AM

Um, yeah. I guess I picked the wrong moment to poke my head back in. It takes the wind out of one's sails, to be greeted with a fuck you. I guess one's person's idea of a good time....

(no subject)
posted by SNORLAX on May 25th, 2007 9:09 AM

yyyeeeeeehhaaaaaaaawwwww

(no subject)
posted by Burn Unit on May 25th, 2007 9:09 AM

Dude, seriously look at the first page, it's like a mass masquerade as Rubin day like a zombie-Rubin invasion, or something. And now they're Acting like Rubin too. It's mass madness You Maniacs!
Seriously, I don't think poon in this case is actually saying an actual fuck you.

(no subject)
posted by SNORLAX on May 25th, 2007 9:12 AM

QUIET YOU

dead babies all around!

(no subject)
posted by Fonne Tayne on May 25th, 2007 10:35 AM

rubins frownent upon cigarette smoking except en les films noirs. et à divers moments, romans.

(no subject)
posted by Ink Tea on May 25th, 2007 11:04 AM

The photo is rather old. I do not smoke much anymore. The occasional bummed cigarette at a party, or when stressed out.

(no subject)
posted by Ziggy C. on May 25th, 2007 12:57 PM

"It's on its way to Ziggy C, who prodded me to do more tasks, in spite of being too busy."

Ouch. Didn't realize I was being a nuisance. I mean, you suggested to do a task; not me. Sorry..

(no subject)
posted by Ink Tea on May 25th, 2007 2:59 PM

No, it's good to prod me to do things. We all like being missed.

My response to an email from a friend.
posted by Ink Tea on May 25th, 2007 3:52 PM

assimilate

NO. Rubin is my friend. And even if no one means any harm, he's already been misrepresented as an asshole. He may be gruff and occasionally a bit mean, even, but this is overkill. This is lord of the flies, S.

My task is lost in this flood of hysteria, and blind mockery. So my completely valid attempt to play the game as it was meant to be played is buried in the archives. I did put work into that small piece of writing. And this is happening to others as well.

What do you hope to achieve? What is this going to accomplish?

I saw this game as a way to drive me to do more of the beautiful things that my personality already drives me to do. I saw this as a way to connect with people who would go out of their way, to work their tails off for a 15 point task, do something completely insane for more points, and to recognize one another for their intricate beauties, their unique personalities. Not to see a bunch of people who are talented and intelligent suddenly start acting like a frenzied high school clique.

What's going to happen? Why make a hostile takeover?

Do what you're gonna do, I suppose. I guess you can remember me as the gal who was a stick in the mud about it. I just don't roll like that.

Love,
Inky