Posts from Voting for the first stage of the “Mr. HeroesWorld” Contest.

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So, the first stage of the contest has come to an end! The stories have been written; now it's time to choose the best one. :)

I remind you of the rules for the contest participants:

1) Do not reveal the authorship of your story!
2) Do not campaign for votes for any particular story!
3) Insults towards other participants and flame wars in the discussions are not allowed!

Violation of any of these points will result in disqualification from the contest!

Contest participants vote by sending me a private message!


Thank you to everyone who showed their imagination, perseverance, and submitted their story to the contest!:smile12: It's a pity that not everyone did!:( But I hope that the activity will be much higher in the second stage!

So, dear forum members, prepare a cup of coffee or tea (or more than one), you can grab some popcorn, get comfortable in your chair (on the sofa, on a stool), and get ready to receive a dose of positive emotions from reading the stories. :)
And don't forget to vote for the best story in your opinion afterwards. :)

So...

Lu, my dear, thank you so much for spending your time and effort on the contest! I know it wasn't easy for you – your work is invaluable!

Once upon a time, there lived a little elf named Donut.

He loved to eat well and sleep.

And he also loved to walk and play in nature.

:smile02: During one of his walks, he met an elven mage named Cupcake.

Naturally, the mage told him that he was "The Chosen One" and that when he grew up, he would become the savior of the world.

Donut didn't believe him right away (although he loved cartoons and fairy tales, he no longer really believed in miracles, just like Father Frost, who hadn't given him a unicorn for New Year's).

But the mage first showed him a couple of tricks, and then a document written in pure Russo-Elvish that said "Donut is the savior of the world," after which he told him to build up his strength and vanished.

The first years of training were the hardest for Donut, but he didn't give up.

By eighteen, he was already the forest champion in weightlifting.

And a champion in archery (he also loved SVDs – but that is another story).

:smile21: :smile45: But then came the day when trouble arrived in the forest.

A gang of the evil orc Stinky came from the Mongolian steppe and started raiding.

But Donut took his faithful bow, arrows, a box of grenades, a "Maximka" machine gun, his grandfather's shashka (he used to fight alongside Chapaev) and headed for the hooligans' camp.

In short, by the time he reached the camp, the orcs were in bad shape, as our hero did not spare any cartridges or grenades.

On his way home, he met an old acquaintance.

The latter again showed the document and said that Donut's time had come.

This was followed by a story about a beautiful princess.

And the main world villain, Radish, who stole a nuclear missile from a testing ground in Siberia and took the princess along with it.

In short, they set off together with the mage to visit this villain and soon arrived at the walls of his Stronghold.

:smile35: Cupcake used his magic to destroy the wall (it was designed to look like the Kremlin wall), but he could no longer follow Donut inside, as he had lost too much strength.

Evil Radish was already waiting for our hero, his Jedi sword at the ready.

And a great sword battle began, more intense than in Star Wars.

And they fought, swearing like dockworkers.

:smile49: But Donut had not trained for all those years in vain and eventually defeated the villain.

:smile42: Radish was given a silver medal, but the nuclear missile was taken away.

Donut saved the princess and they got married.

Then they had a horde of toddlers (it turned out to be a large family) and they lived happily ever after until they died (although elves live long lives, so maybe they are still alive).

Once upon a time there was a kind mod

*- Once upon a time there was a kind mod

*- he conscientiously performed his duties

*- he was a true protector of the forum

- but then terrible flooders came to the forum

*- they flooded and flooded

*- and the mod deleted and deleted

*- but one day he met a beautiful girl

*- he became very attached to her

*- but she turned out to be the most
terrible flooder in the world

*- The mod grieved for a long, long time

*- he no longer looked like his former self

*- and meanwhile the forum was quietly sinking under mountains
of flood

*- and then a friend came to the mod

*- a metalhead friend

*- they got drunk

*- and forgot old hardships

*- they went to take revenge on the flooders

*- especially... one...

*- and they defeated the malicious
flooders

*- and there was peace and prosperity on the forum

*- until the mod's friend (who had become
a mod) stepped on the same rake.


This story happened to me on a very ordinary day... ordinary at first....

I woke up early...around 10 o'clock...my mood was bad because on this day I had to go to the clinic, and I had also overslept...Having washed and shaved, I had breakfast, after breakfast, I got dressed and went outside (the blue aura around me is Actimel protection). It was sunny outsidebasically, as it had been all week. Sighing, I headed toward my goalI arrived in 5 minutes... probably because I walked fast well or because the clinic was two houses away. Entering inside, I immediately headed to the office I neededApproaching the door, I knocked An unfamiliar female voice answered me: Come in!
I opened the door and entered...She appeared before my eyes... an angel descended from heaven she was the new nurse, for I had not seen her here before...
My heart began to beat fast, I was overwhelmed with feelings...but I tried not to show it...Suddenly she asked me to come closer, to begin the procedures for which I had come today... Overcoming my shut-down brain, I began to move...
After some time, I left the office... After standing for 5 minutes, I headed for the exit... I walked and thought about her, her image was in my head... Passing by jars of analysis samples, I suddenly heard a strange voice. - Help me...
Looking around, I saw no one... Probably I imagined it. - I thought and wanted to go further, when suddenly the voice was heard again. - Here, in the jar! Help me!. I began to look closely at the jars and saw something in one of them... I took it and opened it... Thick smoke came out of it and he appeared before me... An Ifrit, strangely enough...
Thank you, stranger. - The Ifrit thanked me and smiled cunningly.
- You.. are you an ifrit? I asked, to confirm my suspicions.
- Yes. - he answered, and added. - You can make a wish... I will fulfill everything...
- A wish?? - I asked again. - I thought only genies grant wishes...
- No. Ifrits can do this too. - he countered.
- Hm... - I pondered, because according to legend ifrits are evil spirits and should not be trusted, but for some reason I agreed to his offer.
- All right. - I answered. - Umm... I don't even know what to wish for... actually I always wanted to visit a fantasy world, or at least the Middle Ages... but I have some doubts, because... - before I could finish, everything suddenly went dark, and in the next second I was already standing in the square in front of a castle and I was wearing a costume... A JESTER?!
- what is this place? How did I get he...re. - remembering the ifrit, I guessed what happened. - Well he.... I knew I shouldn't trust him... sigh...
Suddenly the ringing of a bell and all the people began to gather at the castle. The king stepped onto the balcony and began to speak.
- Some villains kidnapped the princess... according to witnesses, the kidnappers headed into the forest ... whoever finds them and brings the princess back will receive a good reward... and a horse as well.
Immediately several brave souls volunteered. Among them were: a knight,
an elf and a mage. - There they are! Real heroes. - I thought.
Having discussed everything, the volunteers headed for the gates. I ran up to them and asked to go with them; they agreed to take me.
We headed for the forest. On the way, many strange creatures encountered us...
there were dendroids, an orc was met, we also saw Indians,pirates,Barbarians, legionnaires, and even an egg-man!
There were feathered ones too... bats, witches and sparrows
We were even at an Egyptian disco where a wonderful orchestra played... led by a conductor, and a rhythm guitarist, who also sang.
The next morning, after the disco we set off further... we walked all day and by evening reached... basically we didn't reach anything, but just stopped for the night, as it was already dark. Just as we began to set up camp, suddenly a witch appeared and began to recite a spell! The elf wanted to shoot an arrow at her, but an archer who appeared from nowhere preempted him and death came to the elf. But our mage did not panic and killed the enemy with lightning. The knightcast a blessing spell on himself (it turns out he was a paladin) and went to attack the witch, who in turn finished the spell, using which she summoned two zombies
The knight fought the zombies,while the mage tried to deal with the witch...
I armed myself with a stick, resembling a spear and ran to help the mage...
Together we overcame the witch; the mage had just thanked me for the help when an assassin appeared behind him and plunged his blades into the mage, after which the mage fell dead...
Frightened, I began to back away, and the killer came at me... and then the knight shouted: - RUN! - and threw himself on the assassin...
I bolted from the spot and ran deep into the forest... I ran as hard as I could... turning around, I saw a vampire flying after me... probably he was from the same gang...
My strength was already running out, I ran stumbling... and suddenly a horse came toward me (or a steed... it wasn't clear there), I mounted it and rode away...
Danger seemed far away now, and fear almost vanished... then I remembered my home, the nurse... I was afraid that I would never see her again, that I would remain in this world forever...
I had almost forgotten what was happening when suddenly a werewolf appeared on the road.
The horse stopped abruptly, and I flew out of the saddle...

............................................................................................................................................................................... what happened next???... then I came to... rather I woke up, because the alarm clock rang; I quickly got up and began to get ready, as I need to go to the clinic today!!!

I never thought that writing a story (especially in pictures ) would be so difficult . Those who claim that it is much easier to get into one … are right. Even now, having awakened at three in the morning in terror from another terrible dream , I, due to the innate inadequacy of my reaction to what was happening ( ), thought ,… and what should I write? A ballad about a brave Knight ? Too small… A ballad about SEVERAL brave Knights x 3? Not witty at all… A -ful tale ? Something from the history of the Roman Empire ? Perhaps, a story about true and sincere love? However, this is not a competition named after Herbert Wells . Although science fiction has always attracted me … Right, I need to sit down and write a melodramatic story accompanied by the musical accompaniment of the venerable rockers from Nazareth. Or write an ode to a beautiful lady with a -ish face, -ly attractive appearance and a charming little voice . Oh , dreams, dreams … Or a story about today's true gentlemen , who behave with a woman this way only because she is a woman, about true friendship… But for some reason it seems to me that most of the female forum users are no longer at that age (or not yet at that one ?), to believe in fairy tales ( , , ). I will not torture you with tales of warm countries … I also decided not to write about Italian mafiosi and other kinds of bandits . The saga about William Wallace seemed complete to me . I also didn't care for the western . A script for another part of "Pirates of the Caribbean Sea"? Beyond my power… Continue Durkheim's research ? Would that be interesting (as well as a lecture on the same harm of alcoholism and smoking )?.. True . Interest is the main thing . And if interest is the main thing, then it should be an action movie with plenty of shooting and chases. Or another trashy horror flick (about vampires ?), which have flooded computer screens . Or a newspaper article in support of feminists to spite the misogynists of the whole earth. A book about fitness , ? No. Naturally, I will also not give reason for joy to people with perverted imaginations . Hm-m… I completely forgot about our smaller brothers : fluffy bunnies , cute dogs , multicolored kittens , , . But zoology is not my element . A little about sports ? But the ladies will be bored… A story about madmen? About superheroes ? Something intellectual ? No. I think I'll write about my beloved self . About my life: , , , however it is clear to everyone anyway that this is a lie . The variety of my actions throughout the day is surprisingly meager: , , , . Let's dance instead . Although no , it's already 8:00 on the clock and it's time for me to run to work . I still didn't have time to write my story. Why then did I take on the competition? : ambition and vanity. For I, with childish naivety, sleep and dream: . But that is a completely different story , which is easier to write than to get into . Thanks for your attention.

Once upon a time, there lived a grandfather and a grandmother , and they had a beloved granddaughter whom they called Nyurka . The grandfather and grandmother adored her; they were absolutely crazy about her. Nyurka was hardworking: she managed the household herself , could prepare meals , dig up the garden on her own, feed the livestock, and chop wood . Simply put, she was a jack-of-all-trades . Moreover, she was known as a picture-perfect beauty : a slender figure, legs for days, blonde with blue eyes , and her face was quite something too . But she had one very great flaw: a very bad smell from her mouth . This was the fault of an evil sorceress who had cast a terrible spell on her, for she envied her picture-perfect beauty with a black jealousy. Previously, boys from all over the village had courted her , following her in a procession, burning with love, but after the sorceress's curse, they were afraid even to approach Nyurochka, for the smell from her mouth was simply unbearable . Nyura grew sad after the terrible spell was cast; she stopped communicating with everyone and stopped leaving the yard, for the fellow villagers shrank away from her as soon as they saw her from afar . One beautiful clear sunny day , Nyurka went into the yard to chop wood. At that time, local Prince Fyodor was riding by on a white horse, and seeing Nyura , he was stunned; he fell in love with her at first sight . And judging by her languid gaze, Nyurochka liked the handsome prince too . Fyodor jumped off his horse, approached the fence, and began to flirt with the young beauty . Nyura only blushed and, without answering him, continued chopping wood . At that time, the grandmother was passing by and told the prince about the evil sorceress and the terrible spell she had cast on their granddaughter. The prince was first baffled , then, without saying a word, leaped onto his horse and rode away to the Castle . He immediately summoned the court alchemist Solmir and asked for his advice: how to rid Nyurka of the evil sorceress's curse? And then Solmir told Prince Fyodor that there was one remedy that could dispel the sorceress's evil charms . One must obtain a turnip that grants any wish. But that magic turnip grows in a far-off land in a dark cave, guarded by a hundred troglodytes and an evil black dragon. One must make a wish, eat the turnip, but before that... Fyodor did not hesitate; he quickly jumped up, and without waiting for Solmir to finish speaking, called his faithful squire Christian . They took a couple of dozen archers, a couple of griffins, and spearmen with them, and rode to a far-off land in search of the magic Turnip . The sage had not yet managed to tell Fyodor fully that before eating the turnip , one must speak magic words , and only then eat the turnip and make a wish... ...Fyodor and Christian rode for a long time through the far-off kingdom in search of the cave they needed , and finally, thanks to expert scouting , they managed to discover it. They braced themselves and rode inside. While Christian dealt with the troglodytes using a ballista , Fyodor overcame the dragon using tactics, archers, and cover in the form of griffins and spearmen, and took the coveted turnip ... They rode back to the palace; the prince went into his apartments, pulled out the turnip, made a wish, ate it, and... almost lost consciousness from the own terrible smell that suddenly began to come from his mouth . Fyodor ordered Solmir to be summoned immediately to be executed at once for such jokes , but the brought-in sage said that His Highness had not listened to him until the end and had not removed the spell; on the contrary, now the spell lay upon him as well, and it was now impossible to remove it ... Prince Fyodor grieved for a long time , but there was nothing that could be done. He courted Nyurka , they had a wedding, and began to live together and prosper. And what about the smell? It didn't matter, for if you love a person, you simply don't pay attention to such trifles . Especially since now they both had the smell and they simply didn't notice it anymore .


Morgan woke up from a light touch to his heavily furred cheek, but the wonderful moment was hopelessly spoiled by completely different sensations. "Too familiar to be pleasant," he thought. A fragile girl with fiery red hair in light men's clothing smiled mockingly at the captain.
— Don't worry, this time I prepared the drinks in advance. — Cassandra was clearly enjoying her own triumph.
— Mmm...? — Morgan uttered impressively. The news of alcohol noticeably lifted his mood, but not enough to forget about the Indian noose around his neck.
— And good morning to you too, captain! I imagine you have some important business right now, besides chatting with me, so perhaps I'll leave you. — shaking her wavy red mane, the girl giggled.
— Uh, well... huh? — eloquence had never failed Morgan.
— You're unusually talkative today; yesterday you spent your time more economically. — Cassandra winked playfully. — I won't take up precious minutes; as usual, you have two hours. — and she fluttered out of the hold.

"Stop. The hold? Why am I, the captain, lying on a dirty floor in the hold of my own ship, on a short chain and with a noose around my neck?" — from the abundance of questions, he suddenly wanted to drink, which our hero spent the next five minutes doing. Having finished half the bottle, Morgan wondered what the hell was actually going on here?
To give the reader a fuller picture, we must go back three weeks.

Morgan had never been considered "the most" in anything. He was a fairly ordinary captain of a pirate brigantine, albeit with considerable experience. He robbed regularly, killed peaceful residents regularly, got dead drunk regularly, and shouted loud obscene songs regularly, not falling behind the crew. In general, he was a quite decent middle-aged individual in his community. And it would have stayed that way if not for this damn fury — Cassandra. They don't say "a woman on board means trouble" for nothing. Morgan didn't give a damn about the superstitious fears of his moldy comrades-in-arms. She entered the ship in one of the pirate ports and immediately demanded the position of navigator. The joking boatswain, who allowed himself the indiscretion to suggest the lady take a horizontal position right now, instantly went off to heal numerous puncture and incised wounds. Morgan was just cowardly enough to be a captain rather than a peacemaker; besides, he liked the girl's decisiveness. In short, the captain quickly decided to give the boatswain an opportunity to settle things later, taking Cassandra onto the ship. The crew grumbled and prayed fervently to their gods, but Morgan had no intention of changing the navigator; moreover, it turned out the lady handled her tasks quite well. Even too well. The only thing that bothered the captain were the port calls: Cassandra never rested with the crew. She was impossible to find on shore. "Well, the devil take her, everyone is free to spend their time on shore as they wish," Morgan reassured himself.

The news of a royal opium caravel was brought to the ship by her. Apparently, in a couple of weeks, a ship loaded with Indian opium right up to the deck would be passing nearby. The rumors excited the crew to the limit. Even the stupid fat boatswain left his daily attempts to get closer to the navigator and suddenly became focused and sober. Morgan was so absorbed in the upcoming fight that he didn't notice any oddities. Although the boatswain's sweet conversations with Cassandra were too much even for him.

The caravel set out for the rendezvous point strictly on schedule — at night, when most peaceful sailors are supposed to be lounging in hammocks or wandering through disreputable places. The "Morgenstern" — a fast pirate brigantine — came alongside almost silently. However, the harmless bucket met its guests with open shutters.
— F%#$! — Morgan bellowed philosophically and collapsed onto the deck from a heavy blow to the head.

— Hello, captain! — Cassandra sat at his head, playing with a boarding saber. — Or are you already a corpse? — the "navigator" was in high spirits.
— Greetings. Give me a drink. — Morgan greeted her politely.
— Is this how you always converse with ladies, Morgan? Water, tea? — the traitor in corsair clothing blinked sweetly and held a social conversation.
— Twice as bad. — the captain was the picture of courtesy. — What kind of scarf did you put on me? Do we have guests today?
— I thought you wouldn't notice; I was starting to worry. An Indian noose, a wet leather strap. In two hours this trinket will dry and thirst will leave you, my captain. Along with your life! — Cassandra enjoyed herself heartily.
— To what do I owe this? — Morgan grumbled, searching for something heavier with his eyes.
— Oh, it's nothing, no need for thanks! — the girl laughed. — I'll sail around a bit on your little ship. And stop looking around so huntedly; I'm not married, we won't be caught.
— But I already am "married," by all appearances. — finding no suitable object for a fight within reach of his tied hands, Morgan limited himself to a stream of foul language, which sometimes worked much more effectively.
— Such expression! A pity there's nowhere to record it, and no time either. — Cassandra winked significantly. — Well anyway, you aren't going to court me, so I won't delay. Ballast into the boat!

Several pairs of nimble hands picked up the unusually sober body of the former captain and dragged him to the side. No one bothered with a careful descent.
— Almost broke my neck. — Morgan thought as he landed in the flimsy vessel and laughed. — An hour and a half in the sun without a drink. Maybe I'm already dead?
The former captain curled up into a ball and snored peacefully.


Morgan woke up from the cold: a storm was beginning. A full moon in the sky suggested that he would have to face the storm at night, in a boat. Magical.
Wait! — Morgan suddenly screamed. — The moon means it's night! — he was amazed by his own ingenuity.
Feeling his neck gave a negative result: there was no noose. A dried-up leather strap was found at the bottom of the boat. It had simply snapped.
— Homegrown killer... — Morgan muttered happily. — What do you order me to do now? Die in a storm? Like hell!
Finally looking around, he discovered that the prospects were more than joyful. A strip of land blackened on the horizon.
— Jackpot... — Morgan cursed with unfamiliar words and rowed toward the shore.

In the bay by the island, a bulky caravel and his beloved "Morgenstern" rocked peacefully. All correct; fresh water supplies are not limitless. And considering the pirates' thirst to celebrate victories, the ships had to dock as soon as possible. A mad plan formed instantly: capture the brigantine, fire a broadside, and vanish. Only minor details remained — implementing it. Checking for the presence of a crew on board was impossible, so Morgan simply climbed onto the deck and slipped into the hold like a shadow.
— If I stay alive, I'll kill the boatswain. No posts, no crew... — the captain (he now considered himself such again) fretted. A drunken sentry was found sleeping in the bowsprit.
— Look at that, rum too... — Morgan grew angry, opening the door to the captain's cabin.
— Is it not customary to knock in the afterlife? — Cassandra's sleepy voice inquired from the darkness.
— I forgot some stuff here, you understand? — the captain was caught off guard and therefore, as per his habit, talked nonsense, — A bit of money, souvenirs... Thought I'd pop in, take them, because I wasn't quite prepared last time.
— Please leave; I need to change. — it seemed that every night, robbed captains sent to the other world climbed in on her. — Wait on deck; we'll figure out whose stuff is where.

Becoming completely enraged, Morgan flew onto the deck, slamming the door. Rage commanded him to knock the head off the impudent girl immediately.
— Good evening, captain. — Cassandra said, looking down bashfully.
— !?!? — Morgan greeted her.
The girl was wearing a long black dress with a red velvet belt. The captain had been outplayed and lost his head without a single saber blow...

He woke up from a light touch to his heavily furred cheek, but the wonderful moment was hopelessly spoiled by completely different sensations. "Too familiar to be pleasant," he thought. A fragile girl with fiery red hair in light men's clothing smiled mockingly at the captain.
— Don't worry, this time I prepared the drinks in advance. — Cassandra was clearly enjoying her own triumph.
— Mmm...? — Morgan uttered impressively. The news of alcohol noticeably lifted his mood, but not enough to forget about the Indian noose around his neck.
— And good morning to you too, captain! I imagine you have some important business right now, besides chatting with me, so perhaps I'll leave you. — shaking her wavy red mane, the girl giggled.
— Uh, well... huh? — eloquence had never failed Morgan.
— You're unusually talkative today; yesterday you spent your time more economically. — Cassandra winked playfully. — I won't take up precious minutes; as usual, you have two hours. — and she fluttered out of the hold.
"Stop. The hold? Why am I, the captain, lying on a dirty floor in the hold of my own ship, on a short chain and with a noose around my neck?" — from the abundance of questions, he suddenly wanted to drink, which our hero spent the next five minutes doing. Having finished half the bottle, Morgan struggled to reconstruct the events of the previous three weeks in his head. Cursing filthily, the captain sat on the floor and started on the rum.
— Two deaths shall not be, but one is unavoidable. — with this thought, he lay down on the floor and fell asleep.

This time, a terrible suffocation disturbed his peaceful sleep. The strap knew its job; the hold was damp, but not enough to keep the leather moist. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to get rid of the noose, the captain began searching for a method to leave this mortal world as quickly as possible. In a moment of heavy hangover reflections, the belt on his neck snapped from a gunshot. Cassandra stood on the ladder.
— Uh... mmm!? — Morgan's sense of humor flashed.
— Shave yourself. — the navigator smirked.
:)

Guys, please be patient and don't vote until all the stories are posted...
Especially since one vote has already been cast for story #7, which isn't even available yet!:smile38:

Unfortunately, there won't be a 7th story. There were some difficulties with it. So, please vote only for the 6 stories!

Oh, the choice is difficult. I was really hoping that the seventh story would be the best and relieve me of these agonizing doubts... But now I have to think.
I really like Story #1, but Story #6 clearly surpasses it in literary merit... however, #6 contains so few emoticons that it barely meets the conditions of the contest - it's not a "Story in emoticons," but rather a "Story with emoticons," essentially. And #1 is also lovely.
I just can't decide.:smile32: I'll go look for someone to pair up with so we can split the votes between them...:smile39:

P.S. Lu, can you fix the voting options? Remove option 7? Of course, this will reset the results, but otherwise someone might get confused (well, for example, they remember that they liked the last story and click on #7...)

Voted for story No. 2. Even though it's the shortest :smile31:, it made me laugh the most. :smile40: If I could rank them :smile49:, I'd give 2nd place to the 1st story. It's not as long as the others :smile16:, but the emoticons are also very fitting :smile20:. I won't comment on the other stories :smile33:. Each of them has something unique :smile54:, as well as some drawbacks :smile18:. Thank you for participating :smile14: to all the participants in the Contest :smile41:. It's really fun. :) I've said everything. :smile25:

I agree with Slonysh. The 6th story is very, very good, and if there were more emoticons, I would definitely vote for it... No offense, author of the 6th story, but you could have done a little better... But no. My choice is the 3rd.

I vote for the first one!!! He was given a silver medal for the phrase, but they took away the rocket. Now I'll be quoting it everywhere... And the donut and the cake... What cute names!

And I almost died laughing at the first one!

And a donut and a cake... What cute names!

How adorable! And do you also like bows and pink?

No offense!

1!!!!!!!!

I almost died laughing!!!!