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Ta-da. You know, I was surprised that no one guessed the purpose of that timer I posted over a month ago. And some even specified a exact date - December 21st. Now, what happened on December 21st two years ago? Huh? What? Correct, that's when I decided to hold the "Golden Persimmon". And if you look at the time of this message, you can conclude that they were left on the forum almost at the same time. This, by the way, created some tension for me personally. Since I needed to prepare the topic, and I only started doing so today, while the counter was something like a time bomb. That is, I had to write a short introductory story within a certain timeframe, as if cutting the right wire to defuse a bomb. To be honest, the story turned out so-so, and I noticed that my jokes aren't landing like they used to, but what's done is done.
"I heard an unpleasant, ear-piercing screech accompanying the opening of the cell door, and inside stepped the senior prison guard, known to me, my neighbor, and all other inhabitants of this wretched place – a sturdy middle-aged man with sadistic tendencies; moreover, he was a real neat freak – his uniform was always pressed and clean, and his cap glistened like tar in the sun. From the stories of other prisoners, I had heard many times about his cruelty displayed during punishments for improper behavior or ordinary interrogations. Because of this trait and his hot-tempered nature, even his colleagues feared him. However, one could also note good qualities: he is a man of his word who never breaks given promises, and furthermore, he was one of the few who treated their work with responsibility; you could even say he loved it.
- Reinhard!
I looked up, still as cold and calculating as before, though now hidden not behind sunglasses, but behind bangs that had grown during my stay here... Ah, wait a second. We were shaved bald here. Not important in general; I looked up and stared into the burning eyes of the man who entered - yes, chief? – I asked him with no shortage of sarcasm.
Many of those currently listening to my story should remember that this was not the first time I served a sentence in this prison... And most likely not the last. So, this man worked here four years ago when he was just an ordinary guard. Apparently, over the past time, he has risen high here. Not surprising, given such a conscientious attitude toward work. Being a model prisoner, I never had the chance to end up in solitary or the torture chamber during this sadist's shift, and I probably wouldn't want to in the future.
What does that fiery gaze hide? Was I caught doing something? Framed? The eyes of this man suggested it, but in reality, everything turned out differently.
- You have a visitor, - he uttered, replacing his stern look with a sadistic smile.
This man loved not only moral and physical torture, but psychological as well.
Who decided to visit me? I knew who, but you don't. Yes, yes, just like that: I know, and you don't.
This is the person thanks to whom I might leave this hole. This time I was serving a sentence for openly trying to expose an official using power for personal gain. Of course, it was no trouble for him, using his connections, to throw me behind bars, especially considering that I already had prior convictions, and more than one. However, the fact that this wasn't my first time here helped in the sense that I didn't have to earn respect all over again, and overall, life was decent.
- Hurry up, - the man in the doorway reminded me of his presence, - don't keep me or the visitor waiting.
- Yes, yes, of course. – I took a scribbled sheet of paper hidden under my pillow and left the cell.
In the visiting room, a man awaited me in a long brown cloak and a hat of the same color, resembling a detective, who with exaggerated pathos was twirling car keys in his fingers. I sat opposite him and, smiling, said:
- It doesn't suit you.
- Hey bro, whassup? - the man pulled a pack of cigarettes from an inner pocket and brought one to his lips. A second later, a guard ran up to him who, as I expected, would confiscate the cigarette since smoking was forbidden here; however, to my surprise, he gave him a light. Dammit!
- Thanks! – the guard and the man smiled at each other, giving a thumbs-up in approval.
- Mm... Let's get to business already, Morning.
- Come on, Revvi! I feel exactly like one of those... high-and-mighty journalists who is about to expose a major politician, - seeing my twisted look, he corrected himself, - well okay, more likely just some low-level bureaucrat, middle-of-the-road. So what do you have?
I handed him that same scribbled, crumpled sheet of paper.
Morning took it with disdain and said with a light chuckle:
- Did you take this into the toilet with you? – I looked at him, asking with my eyes to take the matter more seriously, - alright, what is this?
- Everything I dug up on this case before I was sent here. Access to a bank vault where some of my observations and other things are stored, as well as addresses of important witnesses, quotes from their remarks when I questioned them, and much more; I think this should be enough... You know who all this needs to be delivered to.
- Don't doubt it, it will be done in the best possible way, - he stood up and turned toward the exit, - don't forget, I served time here once too.
I trusted my freedom to this man for a reason. Although he is coarse and very abrupt, he always says what he actually thinks, hiding nothing, laying it out as it is. Many dislike him for this, but... In any case, he is my friend and comrade, even if we conflict quite often.
And so, after several identical days spent in prison, I was notified that I was being released from custody because the court decision had been overturned, and the official who put me here received punishment. Using my information, Loken, as promised, settled everything...
Tossing a bag of belongings over my shoulder and taking a deep breath, I went for a walk through the remote town. My feet had grown unused to ordinary soil, and my sense of smell to clean air, which now acquired the scent of freedom. I approached a vending machine and dropped in several coins, then successfully retrieved a cup of hot chocolate and sat on a bench. During the time spent in a prison cell, a huge amount of unreleased energy had accumulated within me; however, I didn't know where to use it. Perhaps I should take a train and go to the capital to see friends. Having completely emptied the same cup of chocolate, I crumpled it and threw it into a nearby trash can. The plastic lump, however, missed the target, only hitting the wall and bouncing aside. To my surprise, a man passing by picked it up and carefully dropped it into the aforementioned bin, then addressed me:
- Reinhard, do you think if every person litters this way, what will happen to our streets, and would it be pleasant to walk along them?
I raised my head and saw a familiar face; it was Ment. No-no-no, not "ment" as in policeman, officer, cop, or lawman, but just ment. How can I explain it to you? Ment is... Ment.
- What are you doing here, Ment? – I answered his question with a question.
- Wanted to visit someone in the local prison; what about you, have you been released already?
- As you can see.
- Great, welcome back!
- Thanks.
The conversation continued for some time until Ment left, citing a lack of time. I didn't linger either and headed to the station.
Returning to the center, I learned many interesting things. For example, Amko turned out to be an official. To be honest, this amused me a bit, as it immediately became clear why last year, during the "fairytale-kind contest," Amko spent time with a crowd of girls. What kind of official with a bunch of green bills wouldn't be surrounded by a whole lot of beauties?
Additionally, a rumor went around that someone is preparing to liquidate the monarchical system in ХВ; however, how true this is and who is behind it, even I couldn't find out using my old connections. Perhaps royal intelligence will have more luck.
That is why I decided to visit the palace, or rather – the king and queen. But! I changed my mind and went to Hostor instead; that's how it goes. Now he lived in an apartment, spacious but untidy, for which the resident was solely responsible. Surprisingly, the door was unlocked, and the owner himself was sleeping on the sofa. Taking advantage of the moment, I decided to ransack his dwelling in search of something "unusual" or simply hidden from the eyes of an ordinary guest. It was no trouble for me to find a pistol in the desk drawer and a machete in a large, spacious armchair. I woke Hostor with a kick to the leg; however, I almost paid for it – his reflexes were still intact, and without fully waking up, he aimed his fist toward the face of the person who hit him, meaning me. Only thanks to my own agility did I manage to dodge the blow.
- Revan?!, - it seemed there was no limit to his surprise or joy.
- Yes, as you can see.
- What are you doing here, bro?
- Just decided to check on you.
- Listen, that's great!... This, tell me everything later, but for now, shall we fulfill our mutual promise?
- Mm? What are you talking about?
- Orochi. Dammit, Orochi! We wanted to play as a pair.
- Ah, right. You have a console, - Hostor nodded in agreement, - and the disc?
- ...
- Hostor?
-...
- Hostor?!
- No. Disc. I. Don't. Have.
- Well... there is a solution!
Half an hour later, we looked more like failed cosplayers. Hostor was supposedly Oda Nobunaga, and I was supposedly Cao Pi. We threw on some rags; Hostor tied his hair back into a short ponytail, I put on a wig, and our weapons were... A broom in my hands and a whisk in his. Supposedly the sword of Oda Nobunaga, and supposedly... Mm, I still don't know what to call it. Doesn't matter anyway.
- Alright then, Hossi, let's go outside and rack up K.O.s on pedestrians!
- Wait, eyebrows.
- Mm?
- Eyebrows low.
- What about the eyebrows, damn it?
- Dammit, are you Cao Pi or who? KNIT YOUR BROWS, MAN.
- Ah-ah, that's what you mean. Okay!, - if my eyebrows were any longer, they would surely meet at the bridge of my nose.
- There, that's better.
Basically, we ran around, hit some passersby a bit, and then I finally went to the palace.
At the main entrance stood only two guards (not counting the whole crowd inside), one of an extremely unpleasant appearance, large with a crooked face, and the second also no less unpleasant, thin with long hair. "What kind of clowns are these?" - I thought. Apparently, some joke by someone from the royal family. "Good Lord, what are they doing to MY palace!".
These two, moreover, didn't want to let me in at first. However, as soon as I showed a certain document from two years ago, everything fell into place.
Obtaining an audience was no trouble, and just a few minutes after arriving, I was sitting in one hall with the rulers of our state".
It is not necessary for you to know what we talked about; what matters is that something like a contest will be held here, the kind that is held every year, though slightly modified. However, as before, there is a registration procedure.
Do you want to vote for other participants? Or perhaps take part in the contest? Register. It's enough to write which color and font we should use to record you. I remind you that registration is always open.
Last year's:
Fludoskar 2008
Golden Persimmon
Fairytale-kind contest
Wordiness is welcome.
And while you are registering and I am preparing the next post, you can guess what this faded "photograph" being examined by the host is and who is depicted in it.
Participants:
1. Dragneel
2. Imaris, the Moon Wolf
3. XOSTOR
4. Morning
5. Arandor
6. Плесень
7. Драккошка
8. WisTrit
9. Werevolka
10. Amko
11. Ment
12. Лорд Мортулус
13. Siverfale
14. ToX
15. Wishmaster
16. Небо
17. Вегтам
18. Нэйра Дрейк
19. OMEGA
20. WhiteLizard
21. Lynx
Masquerade
Rules
Participants
Resolution
Face of Liberty
Participants:
Men
Girls
Results.
Mafia and the Hymn
Music List
Blue
"I heard an unpleasant, ear-piercing screech accompanying the opening of the cell door, and inside stepped the senior prison guard, known to me, my neighbor, and all other inhabitants of this wretched place – a sturdy middle-aged man with sadistic tendencies; moreover, he was a real neat freak – his uniform was always pressed and clean, and his cap glistened like tar in the sun. From the stories of other prisoners, I had heard many times about his cruelty displayed during punishments for improper behavior or ordinary interrogations. Because of this trait and his hot-tempered nature, even his colleagues feared him. However, one could also note good qualities: he is a man of his word who never breaks given promises, and furthermore, he was one of the few who treated their work with responsibility; you could even say he loved it.
- Reinhard!
I looked up, still as cold and calculating as before, though now hidden not behind sunglasses, but behind bangs that had grown during my stay here... Ah, wait a second. We were shaved bald here. Not important in general; I looked up and stared into the burning eyes of the man who entered - yes, chief? – I asked him with no shortage of sarcasm.
Many of those currently listening to my story should remember that this was not the first time I served a sentence in this prison... And most likely not the last. So, this man worked here four years ago when he was just an ordinary guard. Apparently, over the past time, he has risen high here. Not surprising, given such a conscientious attitude toward work. Being a model prisoner, I never had the chance to end up in solitary or the torture chamber during this sadist's shift, and I probably wouldn't want to in the future.
What does that fiery gaze hide? Was I caught doing something? Framed? The eyes of this man suggested it, but in reality, everything turned out differently.
- You have a visitor, - he uttered, replacing his stern look with a sadistic smile.
This man loved not only moral and physical torture, but psychological as well.
Who decided to visit me? I knew who, but you don't. Yes, yes, just like that: I know, and you don't.
This is the person thanks to whom I might leave this hole. This time I was serving a sentence for openly trying to expose an official using power for personal gain. Of course, it was no trouble for him, using his connections, to throw me behind bars, especially considering that I already had prior convictions, and more than one. However, the fact that this wasn't my first time here helped in the sense that I didn't have to earn respect all over again, and overall, life was decent.
- Hurry up, - the man in the doorway reminded me of his presence, - don't keep me or the visitor waiting.
- Yes, yes, of course. – I took a scribbled sheet of paper hidden under my pillow and left the cell.
In the visiting room, a man awaited me in a long brown cloak and a hat of the same color, resembling a detective, who with exaggerated pathos was twirling car keys in his fingers. I sat opposite him and, smiling, said:
- It doesn't suit you.
- Hey bro, whassup? - the man pulled a pack of cigarettes from an inner pocket and brought one to his lips. A second later, a guard ran up to him who, as I expected, would confiscate the cigarette since smoking was forbidden here; however, to my surprise, he gave him a light. Dammit!
- Thanks! – the guard and the man smiled at each other, giving a thumbs-up in approval.
- Mm... Let's get to business already, Morning.
- Come on, Revvi! I feel exactly like one of those... high-and-mighty journalists who is about to expose a major politician, - seeing my twisted look, he corrected himself, - well okay, more likely just some low-level bureaucrat, middle-of-the-road. So what do you have?
I handed him that same scribbled, crumpled sheet of paper.
Morning took it with disdain and said with a light chuckle:
- Did you take this into the toilet with you? – I looked at him, asking with my eyes to take the matter more seriously, - alright, what is this?
- Everything I dug up on this case before I was sent here. Access to a bank vault where some of my observations and other things are stored, as well as addresses of important witnesses, quotes from their remarks when I questioned them, and much more; I think this should be enough... You know who all this needs to be delivered to.
- Don't doubt it, it will be done in the best possible way, - he stood up and turned toward the exit, - don't forget, I served time here once too.
I trusted my freedom to this man for a reason. Although he is coarse and very abrupt, he always says what he actually thinks, hiding nothing, laying it out as it is. Many dislike him for this, but... In any case, he is my friend and comrade, even if we conflict quite often.
And so, after several identical days spent in prison, I was notified that I was being released from custody because the court decision had been overturned, and the official who put me here received punishment. Using my information, Loken, as promised, settled everything...
Tossing a bag of belongings over my shoulder and taking a deep breath, I went for a walk through the remote town. My feet had grown unused to ordinary soil, and my sense of smell to clean air, which now acquired the scent of freedom. I approached a vending machine and dropped in several coins, then successfully retrieved a cup of hot chocolate and sat on a bench. During the time spent in a prison cell, a huge amount of unreleased energy had accumulated within me; however, I didn't know where to use it. Perhaps I should take a train and go to the capital to see friends. Having completely emptied the same cup of chocolate, I crumpled it and threw it into a nearby trash can. The plastic lump, however, missed the target, only hitting the wall and bouncing aside. To my surprise, a man passing by picked it up and carefully dropped it into the aforementioned bin, then addressed me:
- Reinhard, do you think if every person litters this way, what will happen to our streets, and would it be pleasant to walk along them?
I raised my head and saw a familiar face; it was Ment. No-no-no, not "ment" as in policeman, officer, cop, or lawman, but just ment. How can I explain it to you? Ment is... Ment.
- What are you doing here, Ment? – I answered his question with a question.
- Wanted to visit someone in the local prison; what about you, have you been released already?
- As you can see.
- Great, welcome back!
- Thanks.
The conversation continued for some time until Ment left, citing a lack of time. I didn't linger either and headed to the station.
Returning to the center, I learned many interesting things. For example, Amko turned out to be an official. To be honest, this amused me a bit, as it immediately became clear why last year, during the "fairytale-kind contest," Amko spent time with a crowd of girls. What kind of official with a bunch of green bills wouldn't be surrounded by a whole lot of beauties?
Additionally, a rumor went around that someone is preparing to liquidate the monarchical system in ХВ; however, how true this is and who is behind it, even I couldn't find out using my old connections. Perhaps royal intelligence will have more luck.
That is why I decided to visit the palace, or rather – the king and queen. But! I changed my mind and went to Hostor instead; that's how it goes. Now he lived in an apartment, spacious but untidy, for which the resident was solely responsible. Surprisingly, the door was unlocked, and the owner himself was sleeping on the sofa. Taking advantage of the moment, I decided to ransack his dwelling in search of something "unusual" or simply hidden from the eyes of an ordinary guest. It was no trouble for me to find a pistol in the desk drawer and a machete in a large, spacious armchair. I woke Hostor with a kick to the leg; however, I almost paid for it – his reflexes were still intact, and without fully waking up, he aimed his fist toward the face of the person who hit him, meaning me. Only thanks to my own agility did I manage to dodge the blow.
- Revan?!, - it seemed there was no limit to his surprise or joy.
- Yes, as you can see.
- What are you doing here, bro?
- Just decided to check on you.
- Listen, that's great!... This, tell me everything later, but for now, shall we fulfill our mutual promise?
- Mm? What are you talking about?
- Orochi. Dammit, Orochi! We wanted to play as a pair.
- Ah, right. You have a console, - Hostor nodded in agreement, - and the disc?
- ...
- Hostor?
-...
- Hostor?!
- No. Disc. I. Don't. Have.
- Well... there is a solution!
Half an hour later, we looked more like failed cosplayers. Hostor was supposedly Oda Nobunaga, and I was supposedly Cao Pi. We threw on some rags; Hostor tied his hair back into a short ponytail, I put on a wig, and our weapons were... A broom in my hands and a whisk in his. Supposedly the sword of Oda Nobunaga, and supposedly... Mm, I still don't know what to call it. Doesn't matter anyway.
- Alright then, Hossi, let's go outside and rack up K.O.s on pedestrians!
- Wait, eyebrows.
- Mm?
- Eyebrows low.
- What about the eyebrows, damn it?
- Dammit, are you Cao Pi or who? KNIT YOUR BROWS, MAN.
- Ah-ah, that's what you mean. Okay!, - if my eyebrows were any longer, they would surely meet at the bridge of my nose.
- There, that's better.
Basically, we ran around, hit some passersby a bit, and then I finally went to the palace.
At the main entrance stood only two guards (not counting the whole crowd inside), one of an extremely unpleasant appearance, large with a crooked face, and the second also no less unpleasant, thin with long hair. "What kind of clowns are these?" - I thought. Apparently, some joke by someone from the royal family. "Good Lord, what are they doing to MY palace!".
These two, moreover, didn't want to let me in at first. However, as soon as I showed a certain document from two years ago, everything fell into place.
Obtaining an audience was no trouble, and just a few minutes after arriving, I was sitting in one hall with the rulers of our state".
It is not necessary for you to know what we talked about; what matters is that something like a contest will be held here, the kind that is held every year, though slightly modified. However, as before, there is a registration procedure.
Do you want to vote for other participants? Or perhaps take part in the contest? Register. It's enough to write which color and font we should use to record you. I remind you that registration is always open.
Last year's:
Fludoskar 2008
Golden Persimmon
Fairytale-kind contest
Wordiness is welcome.
And while you are registering and I am preparing the next post, you can guess what this faded "photograph" being examined by the host is and who is depicted in it.
Participants:
1. Dragneel
2. Imaris, the Moon Wolf
3. XOSTOR
4. Morning
5. Arandor
6. Плесень
7. Драккошка
8. WisTrit
9. Werevolka
10. Amko
11. Ment
12. Лорд Мортулус
13. Siverfale
14. ToX
15. Wishmaster
16. Небо
17. Вегтам
18. Нэйра Дрейк
19. OMEGA
20. WhiteLizard
21. Lynx
Masquerade
Rules
Participants
Resolution
Face of Liberty
Participants:
Men
Girls
Results.
Mafia and the Hymn
Music List
| Nomination/contest | image | Winner |
| Masquerade | Amko | |
| Best Avatar | Siverfale [/B]Нэйра Дрейк Amko | |
| Best Signature | XOSTOR | |
| Most Beautiful Man | Siverfale Dragneel | |
| Most Beautiful Girl | Dragneel | |
| Mafia; best player | Morning | |
| Mafia; best GM | Вегтам | |
| The Hymn | Dragneel |