I have 28,938,493 tu in my bank account

^

32,689,999 tu

(because my sister (AKA Raru), who also left res, gave me all of her money so I can give it away)

EDIT: She gave me more tu (like 300 tu)

 WORDSEARCH!

I stopped playing res so I don't need it. So like, Imma 'give' it away.

 What do you have to do?

WRITE A STORY

 Oh yeah, since it's 28 32 million (whatev, close enough). It's not going to be easy.

I'll make 1 simple rule:

The word count (being the number of words a piece of writing contains) has to be related to a scientific or mathmatical constant (of course, you can't have 3.14 words, so they'll all be multiplied by 10 or 100 or something)

So, here are the word counts:

• Pi = 314 words
•  Avagadro's constant = 602 words
• e = 217 or 2178 words
• Permittivity of free space = 885 words
• Planck's constant = 663 words
• Speed of light in a vacuum = 3 (yes, 3 words)
• Cosin(1) = 540 words
• Glaisher-Kinkelin constant = 1282 words
• i = √(-1) words (be creative)
• lne = 1 word
• Prize = 28,938,493(lol you don't get extra points for using that wordcount though. I'll prolly get bored or something).

If you haven't noticed, they're really short. I'm not really good at reading so I don't really want such long stories.

ahydiuash diuashd iuashdia shduiahds uhasi dlasudh qwui aftysbhjiuIARGRAGUSD LJKDSHASDKJASDASJDHKAJSHDIULYWj kjsdfhad  LDBA BAIUSAISCB  CUASDGjsagdiyagd iagdyags kpeanutjkasdhaskjkjadskadskdasja How to get easy points -> http://i246.photobucket.com/albums/gg100/HappyVeggies/hints.png sd iuasdilakaldlkasj duahsdagsd ukyaguy uaweiu hcj jlacbauvcuayfd jaschoas houahscig iugsdyuasd fta wq duagidbayu http://i246.photobucket.com/albums/gg100/HappyVeggies/writers.png <- as you can see, I'm not easily impresseddvs dyajg aywawgiadgwi jkadhasdajkhdk asjdhadiuashd asiudhasi dhasid aihuhc budhfu abshadj/ads/ads/ads/ad/ads/ads/ads

I'd actually prefer that you do not use pre existing characters as I don't know who they are. I want a complete short story, not an extract of a long story. It'd be nice to see if you guys can step out of what you do normally and work with new concepts.

Castle in the Air, To Kill a Mockingbird, Private Tuition with Mr Bose, All of the Sherlock Holmes stories, Death of a Naturalist, The Little Vagabond, The Doll's House (Sandman), Full Life Consequences.

Alright, jk. I've got more rules xD:

•  You MUST stick to the word count or else you will be asked to ammend your story, if you don't you're disqualified
• No mature content. Stick to the site rules
• No fanfiction. I prolly won't know who you're talking about. If I do, I won't like it anyways. I'm not a fan of fanfiction (lolz, pun?-ish? Lolz realpunthatdon'tmakesense)
• No plagiarism. You have to write it yourself.
  

  If you find that any of the stories submitted are suspicious. Please rmail me with concerns or evidence and I will sort it out, I don't want anyone else involved. These entries will be quietly dismissed if found guilty, I don't want a fuss over here.
  
  It's in da site rules:
  http://www.rescreatu.com/forum/cat/arts/art/you-will-be-warned-/~page/1/
  Even if you act in an acceptable manner, I will ask you to drop it

• Don't submit anything you did a while ago. I want stories that are specifically written for this contest.
• You may collab with friends. But you should ttly split the cash.
• You can draw a picture for it! It'll be cool man.
• Enter as many times as you like. 
• Soz but as of now (1st June), you cannot submit the word 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious' as an entry.

Actually, now that I think of it. I should totally make 1st, 2nd and 3rd places.

1st

16,344,949 tu

+ lolidk I guess a pencil/ink (will depend on what I feel like doing/have the time for) illustration of your story by me?

2nd

10,896,666 tu

+ Pencil/ink illustration

3rd

5,448,384 tu

+ Pencil/ink illustration

Honourable Mention

(there will be any amount of honourable mentions. Depending on how many I really liked but aren't up to par for winning)

Pencil/ink illustration OR Retired item (from 2008 onwards, see item gallery)

If you don't want an illustration, I'm totally fine with that (cuz I'm kinda lazy and stuff). I figured it would be cool to give a bit extra 'cause I don't think I'll ever come back to res to do commissions anyways.

If you're wondering why the numbers are so funny, I divided the total prize by 6 and gave 3 shares to the first, 2 to the second and 1 to the third. I rounded them all off to make them intergers and gave the 3rd prize an extra tu to even it out. I was trying to find some exponential way to split up the prize but I failed. I hope these prizes aren't too unfair, if you can find some better way to share the prize out please do tell me. Prolly something logarithmic would be cool ;D

I can see that no one has introduced me to the hero of their story. Well, I don't know who they are so I suppose I don't know what's happening then.

Bear in mind that it's not 'best' (most well written) story that's going to win, but the story I enjoy the most. You can give me something that is technically absolutely atrocious. However, if I really like it, you can walk away with 16,344,849 tu. So your area of expertise (meaning the genre you normally write in) may cause you to have no chance of winning at all. If you want to know what I like, ask me and I won't tell you. You'll have to find that out by yourself.

DEADLINE:

SOME TIME LATER WHEN I VISIT

(you prolly have a month or so lolidk)

           Behind her, the noise escalated to the point where she was sure her eardrums would shatter. She grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the headache that she could feel blossoming between her eyes. Why, she thought, couldn’t there ever be a normal, calm, quiet day in her life?

            She tried to be inconspicuous as she inched towards the door and away from the squabbling children behind her. Soon, she would be at the beach with her friends, screeching children far from her mind. She was almost home free, hand reaching out for the doorknob, beach bag swinging over her shoulder and a small smirk of triumph spreading over her face when—

            “C-CARA!”

            Cara winced as the half-shriek, half-sob cut through her sense of victory. She sighed, shoulders and head drooping as her hand fell away from the doorknob. She turned slowly, trying to keep the irritatted scowl off of her face as her eyes took in the sight of her little brother, Aiden, and little sister, Lilith. Each was clutching an end of a cardboard box held between them, which was crumpled and torn, and the cereal inside was no doubt crushed. Both of them were red in the face, and Lilith had tears in her eyes.

            “C-cara,” Lilith sniffled again, “Aiden says— he says t-that the ceweal t-toy is his, a’cause he was the one that opened the box. B-but its my turn!”

            Aiden, in response, stamped his foot indignantly. “Nuh-uh!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “I opened the box, so its my toy! And you don’t like racecars, anyways! You’re a girl, go play with a doll!” He finished his sentence with a rough yank, and the box flew from Lilith’s hands. The lack of resistance made Aiden stumble backwards, and as he flailed his arms around trying to regain his balance¸ cereal went flying around the room. Among the cereal there was a small, bright yellow plastic toy car in a little plastic bag. It landed on the floor right as Aiden brought his foot down to balance himself, and the resounding crack! made both children stop.

            Then, after nearly a full minute of shocked silence, Aiden sat down on the floor¸ cradling the toy in his hands and sniffling regretfully, while Lilith began shrieking again in sorrow. Cara sighed, rubbing her fingers against her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment before she turned and set down her beach bag. She picked the keys from the nail where they hung on the wall and grabbed her purse. She sent a quick message to her friends, informing them that she wouldn’t be able to make it to the beach after all, much to her disappointment.

            “Come on,” she said, and her younger siblings paused in their mourning to stare at her questioningly. “We’ll go to the store and get some new cereal. And we can stop for ice cream, too, alright?”

            Lilith sniffled one last time before bounding over to Cara and hugging her around the knees, rubbing her snotty nose against Cara’s jeans. Cara sighed for a third time and Aiden grinned, standing up quickly. Cara smiled as she opened the door and Aiden rushed outside with Lilith on his heels, both laughing as though the cereal toy incident had never happened.

            Maybe, Cara thought, it wasn’t so bad to miss out on the beach. She strapped Lilith into her car seat and made sure Aiden was wearing his seatbelt before climbing into the driver’s seat. As she backed out of the driveway, Aiden said, “But I get to pick the cereal, though, right?”

            Lilith sat up straighter in her car seat, and Cara’s good mood deflated as her little sister squawked indignantly, “But you got to pick the cereal last time!” Cara grit her teeth, bracing her eardrums for the onslaught of shrieks to come. Why, she thought, couldn’t there ever be a nice, peaceful, quiet day in her life?

It should be 663 words, so far as I know. Its completely pointless, but I had fun writing it. Have you ever fought with your siblings about the cereal box toys? It used to be such a big thing for my brother, sister, and I xD

There was a big black cat with wings sitting on Mary’s balcony.

Mary blinked, closed her eyes, counted to five and then opened them again, but there was still a big black cat with wings sitting on her balcony.  She lay frozen in her bed, the grey light of early morning streaming in through her windows and framing the animal, which seemed content with the activity of licking its paws and occasionally giving its wings a fluttery shake.  Its body was about the size of a Labrador, with long feline muscles and… upon close inspection the ‘paws’, which were a little hard to see from her frozen position, were actually more like a bird’s feet, with the fur ending part way down the leg and turning into thick, scaly skin which then split into three long fingers and talons.

She supposed it made sense.  What with the wings and all.  Of course, the door to the balcony was closed, but it was also made out of glass.  Which gave her a very pretty view of the large stretch of forest behind the house, but which wasn’t doing much for her feeling of safety and security right then, either.

At least the… cat-bird-thing was ignoring her.  Until it looked up, stared through the glass at her, and tilted its head slightly to one side.  At that point Mary was fairly convinced that her heart had decided to leap out of her chest and go bounding down to hide under the bed, the cowardly, awful traitor, and she was absolutely certain that the moment would remain forever burned into her memory.  Although ‘forever’ might be a relatively short time if the cat-bird decided to bust through her glass door and eat her for breakfast.

It had blue eyes.  Fancy that.

Mary’s brain then proceeded to join her heart under the bed, and later all she could recall was feeling the blood roar in her veins as she gripped the blankets in white-knuckled terror, and stared at a pair of slit-pupils which seemed to trap her in place.  Not that she’d been all for running around and drawing attention to herself before it happened to glance up and notice that she existed.

The moment really was only that, however – a moment.  When it passed the cat-bird gave a rather dismissive shake, which had quite a bit in common with a shrug, and then leapt off of the balcony.  Mary heard the snap-flutter of wings and glimpsed the tip of a large black wing through the railing, and then saw now more.  When she finally felt like she could stand to move without throwing up, she all but fled from the ‘safety’ of her blankets and pounded out of the big white door to her room, into the hallway, down past one other bedroom and a bathroom, through the turn, and over to the master bedroom.  Which was neat and orderly and very empty, and also led out onto a balcony.  So she didn’t stay in it for very long before she turned and headed down the stairs instead, clad in the light shorts and t-shirt she liked to sleep in, and wound up all but flying into the house’s big old kitchen, grabbing the doorframe in one hand and panting as if she had just run a marathon.

In her defense, the staircase was fairly tall and her nerves had just suffered an unpleasant shock.  Her mother and father, who were starting on breakfast, both looked up at her in surprise.  Before they could voice their questions she began to speak in a cool, level tone which might have actually been panicked babbling.

“Big cat-thing!  Balcony!” she exclaimed, making a vague gesture with her hands that was, in theory, meant to indicate a winged cat, but in actuality just made he look like she had flunked out of mime school.  “Wings,” she added for good measure and coherence.

It didn’t matter.  Neither of them believed her.

--

^_^  That should be 663 words, unless I've screwed up.

Can we enter more than once? ^^;

Also, do you have any specific thing you'd like for a story? X_X

Eyes glued shut, lost in an endless slumber, dreams of cars and army men encircling his mind. He just looks so peaceful and so innocent. Any minute now, he could roll over and open those summer green eyes and exclaim “Good Morning Taila!” as he does every day. His chest rising and falling in a steady, rhythmatic beat, palm to cheek as if hoping for more comfort; this time of day is my favorite, because he isn’t moving, he isn’t screaming or running around. He is still, quiet, and calm.

As if my story reached his dreams, he awakes, bright eyed and ready for the day. Springing up from bed, he jumps down and runs for our mom, like he always does, to bid her good morning and ask for his “cup in a catcher” which consists of milk, and a substantial amount of chocolate. I only know that this peaceful moment I enjoy will be gone and out of my mind until tomorrow. Many times today voices will be raised in annoyance and tears will be shed because of spankings. Still, we will find time to play with toy guns and share laughter and giggles and tickles and smiles and kisses and hugs. These are the never ending joys and pains of having a baby brother.

If I'm correct, there are 217 words in there. (: 

Please.

Hey, thats one word. :) Lol I really do need that tu

It stared at me with blazing eyes. Smoke drifting out of its nose and its fang-like teeth in a sinister grin. I gave the bright red egg next to it a glance. The dragon lunged at me. Before it tore into my chest, I took a gigantic leap as high as humanly possible and landed on the dragon’s back. It snarled in an out right fury. My heart pounded and I immediately took control of it. I bent low down on the scaly back and the dragon took off. I held on tight as the wind blew across my face, leaving my hair in the dust. I led the dragon around. I was riding! I was riding a DRAGON! I stared at the sky and clouds ahead of me. I suddenly lost all concern for my life, and the fact I was riding a furious dragon escaped from my mind. I led the dragon back to its cave. The relief in its eyes was quite obvious. As we landed in the cave, the dragon jolted its body to the side and I came flying off. As I hit the ground, the dragon started towards me, I put out my hand and the dragon put its head to my hand. Realizing that I was not meaning to harm it, she relaxed. She stared at me as if she was saying, “Tell me more about your kind!” For millions and millions of years, we humans had hunted dragons, used them for food, turn their leathery hide into fashion accessories, and mounted their heads on plaques. Now, I realized that all of these tragedies we have caused the dragons were not at all humanlike. We were classless beasts, wanting to prove to our mommies and daddies that we were more than what we could be. Yet, in this process causing beautiful, elegant beasts their own lives. No wonder this beautiful kind had always acted ferocious! And we were too careless to admire and appreciate these wonderful beasts.

Just then, I had created the starting bond between humans and dragons. I suddenly heard yelling, obviously the sound of my village’s hunting party. Prickles went down my dirty skin and my eyes opened in fear. H-h-h-hunting party! To kill this dragon…I could not let that happen! I had to hide the dragon. The yelling got louder and louder as the party got near. The dragon, being intelligent as it is, knew what was going on. She rolled her egg to my feet and disappeared into the never-ending darkness of the cave. I hid the egg in my blouse. The party would surely kill the egg. Murder whatever beautiful creature may be hiding inside! I ran as fast as I possibly could back to the village, but skirting around the party, unseen. I decided to hide in the elder’s house. She would know what to do. I knocked on the hard wooden door. No one answered. A splinter pierced my skin, and I tried to stifle a screech. I ran away to the hidden barn. Only I knew about it. I would easily hatch the egg there, no one would ever suspect…

            The egg was bolting along the cold stone floor. A little shard of the fire red egg fell off and desinegrated. A little narrow beak appeared through the hole where the shard used to be. And the little hatchling made his way out of the hot egg. It shook itself off and ran over toward me as if I was his mother. He pressed his scaly, red head to my hand, and our inseparable bond began.

I used the word count ^^ This is 602 words exactly <3 I hope you like it! :D

Poor.

Thats my 1 - (negative) story.

8D

lol kk i will try n enter.

akirara chan was so shocked and infachuated, to see the love of her life kratos coming down the school steps, whipping his long sliver hair in the sunlight. Akirara turned around whipping her brown hsir with red and green high lights and her breath stopped as he stop in front of her. Her breath stopped and her heart went ‘doki doki’ loudly around her ears. Her beautiful aqua eyes blinked and looked up shyly and her pink cheeks blushed prettily. “I hear u like to play violin and ride horses.’ Kratos whispered. ‘y...y...yes I do.’ She murmured. ‘can you help me with math because I have diabetes and cant read so good.’ He breath and took her hand. Her fingers are so slender and her nail polish was amazing. ‘Akirara said ‘i...cant. Im not good in maths.’ But that was a lie because everyone knows that akirara chan was as good at maths as good as she is in art and she was good. She pulled her hand away and started to run in the direction of the sakura trees. ‘wait’ kratos screamed and ran after akirarar. He grabbed hand and put his arms around her. ‘dont go akirara! I...I...wanted to tell you...for so long...i love you.”

Then they kissed and the sakura leaves falled around them.

i worked realy hard on dis ok? it wuz relly so hard 2 count evrythng n make it touching ur emosions ):

I'll enter 7 lne stories. Not sure if the last one counts at all though. xD

Give.

Me.

Tu.

Plz.

Or.

Poop.

:D.

• Speed of light in a vacuum = 3 (yes, 3 words)

Beginning, middle, end.

I'll enter again with a longer one for another category. xD

Entry #1. 

Cockamamie.

Will enter a proper entry later, bro. 

Second entry. This one should be 1282 words, for the Glaisher-Kinkelin constant. I was inspired by the numbers. xD

            “Twelve one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve one two three four five—”

            Clocks. Time, clocks, numbers. Clocks have numbers. Numbers make up time. Or does time make numbers? I rock back and forth, clutching my knees to my chest. Where am I?

            “Twelve one two three—“

Numbers are always safe.

“Just sitting there, muttering about random numbers?”

“SIX SEVEN EIGHT—” I raise my voice, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the woman’s voice. No, not the woman. A man, a new voice. Two voices, then. Two people.

“No,” the woman said softly. “They aren’t random numbers. She’s going in order of the clock, from twelve to eleven and starting again.” The voice paused, and I opened my eyes, lowering my own. Was she talking about me? “She hasn’t stopped looking at the clock, either, now that I think about it. She’s been staring at it constantly.”

Constantly? Numbers are constant. Avogadro’s constant. “Six point zero two two one four one five times ten to the twenty-third power times the inverse of mole,” I whisper. I feel someone move up beside me, can feel the heat of them in this cold room, and I flinch.

“That doesn’t sound like the clock to me,” the man’s voice said, and I flinch again because he’s so close, his voice echoing and making my ears ring in protest. I glance away from the clock for the first time in hours, and resist the urge to screech at the silhouette hovering so close to me. I shiver, and quickly return my gaze to the numbers, biting my lip.

“That’s—was that the formula for Avogadro’s constant?” the woman asks, and she sounds confused. So I close my eyes and nod, jerkily, like my neck doesn’t want to cooperate with my head’s decision to move.  The woman gasps, and I feel myself frowning, furrowing my brow. Was I not supposed to answer that?

I can hear the woman rush over, the creak of her weight over the floorboards and the soft pat-pat of her feet as they meet with the ground. The air moves as she passes me, and when I open my eyes again she’s crouched in front of me. I open my mouth, try to speak, but whatever words I would have spoken die in my throat, leaving a bitter taste, so I close my mouth again. The woman stares at me, tears filling her eyes, and suddenly she throws herself forward, her arms wrapping around me as she chokes on a sob.

I bl
ink, her curly hair stabbing and stinging my eyes, and automatically my arms wrap around the woman in return, hands gripping the back of her shirt tightly. She sobs again, and my neck feels wet. The smell of cinnamon apples and honey hits my nose and then I’m crying, too, and I don’t know why.

“Oh, my baby,” she sobs. “Oh, sweetie, where have you been? What happened to you?”

I shake my head, a difficult task as her face is still buried in my neck, and whisper, “Twenty-six thousand two hundred ninety-seven.”

The woman pulls back, wipes her eyes. “What?” she asks.

I bit my lip. “One thousand eighty. One hundred fifty six point five, thirty-six. Three.” The woman looks dazed, like I’m talking in riddles. How could she not understand? “Th-three years, since…who are you?”

The woman breaks. I can see it, in the way her body crumples down towards the floor, and the hopeful light leaves her eyes. What had she been hoping for? She sinks to the ground and puts her face into her hands, and her sobs wrack her body. The man goes to her side, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She shakes him away.

“She doesn’t know me,” the woman moans, and the sound drives needles into my very core. It’s the sound of a dying animal, and I wish the man would move. His head is blocking the clock, the numbers that will keep me safe.

“She’s sick,” the man whispers into the woman’s ear, and he has to lean down to do it. A shiver goes through me when my eyes lock onto the clock again, and I feel myself relax and let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. “She’s sick, can’t you see? She needs to see a doctor. Then she’ll be fine, love. Then she’ll know.”

I stiffen at the word “love,” and I begin to recite the clock again. It’s the only way I’ll be safe, so I murmur, “Twelve one two three four—“

The woman lets out that broken moan again, curling in on herself as though my numbers scare her. The man stands, breaking my staring contest with the clock. My eyes lock onto his eyes instead. They’re cold and steely, and he glares at me like I’m the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen. I don’t know him, not the way I’m sure I know the woman, and that scares me.

“Do you know,” the man says softly, coolly, and I wince, “how long she’s been looking for you? You disappear for three years, and—“

My eyes widen and I feel a surge of anger, and I yell, “She left me! I didn’t disappear, she did!” though I have no idea what I’m talking about. Where did the numbers go?

The man closes his eyes, collecting himself, before he continues just as softly as before, “And now you show up dirty and pale and half starved, babbling about numbers and you don’t even know who she is. You don’t even recognize her.”

The woman sobs loudly, and I feel a surge of worry. I stand up, shakily, and the man takes a step towards the woman as though he’s afraid I’m going to hurt her. I inch towards her, and then lower myself to the ground and reach my hand out, stroking her hair. It’s coarse and stringy, and I’m assaulted by the memory of tangling my hands through it when I was little, scared and looking for comfort.

The woman lifts her head from her hands, and tries to breathe properly, but she’s still half chocking on strangled sobs. The hopeful light flickers in her eyes, and a protective surge of warmth bubbles up from my chest.

“Its alright,” I whisper, and the woman sits up straighter. I open my mouth, close it, then open it again because I want to say something, but I’m not sure what to say. She springs forward again, and for a second time I find myself with hair in my eyes and tears on my neck. I close my eyes, breathe in her scent, and memories of a childhood spent with her hit me like bricks. Then the memory of her leaving me alone with a stack of math books, of numbers. “You left,” I say.

She nods against my neck, and whispers, “I know.” Then she hugs me tighter, like she’ll die if I let go, so I don’t. For the first time in three years, all thoughts about numbers leave my head, and I cry with her.

Here is my entry for Ine:

Hi!

I think there is one word there xD

 My entry:

U hEAdcrAb zOmbIE!!!!