- Posting Speed
- Speed of Light
- Writing Levels
- Douche
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
People who write too much are cock-gobblers. They give the reader no credit. They sabotage their own momentum. Fuck them in the ear.
This is a post by a former member (so she can't get mad at me)
This is what she DIDN'T need to say:
Her frame was adorned by that of a lengthy ballgown, the lengthy maroon toned embroidery stroked against the stone surface of the pavement [She's wearing a maroon ballgown. We know it's long. We know that pavements are made of stone]. The dark night sky with it's radiance reflecting off of the moon and onto her skin which was immaculately free of any odd pigmentation [Night skies are generally dark. And "free of any odd pigmentation" means "immaculate". And if there's a moon, we can assume it's night.]. Her lengthy red hair was tied up in a golden ring which formed it's way around her head with a gem on the front in the center of her brow [It's the middle ages. Women had long hair, unless they were pretending to be men. Also, if there's a gem at the front of your ring of hair, we can assume it's in the centre.]. Raising her green eyes to the open gates of the castle grounds, she teetered over towards the doors [Why "teeter towards" when you can just "approach"?]. Picking up the pace, all she could think about is that she was late. It was unusual for her to be wearing such attire and this wasn't exactly her comfort zone [If it's "unusual" then it goes without saying that it's "not in her comfort zone"]. However, she had been invited to this celebration and of course she had to be there to protect the king and his unborn [So clearly she IS thinking about more than just the fact that she is late]. Beneath her puffy ballgown was her garter strapped and aligned with different acidic poisons [Which one is it? Acid or poison? And what does "aligned" mean when it comes to garters?]. She had taken part in a session of alchemy before leaving her home, and got into a hectic situation when the spillage occurred, causing her to be late.
Herblack golden whip lay neatly under the corset which was tightly pulling in her waist to reveal her particularly feminine figure [Is the whip black or golden? And how can it be UNDER the corset? And corsets are SUPPOSED to pull in your waist. And WHAT is a particularly feminine figure?]. It wasn't often that she was out of her armor, although this wasn't a first, those would possibly still be unable to recognise her [If something is "not often", then it goes without saying that it's "not a first", since "not often" implies "occasionally".]. She was quite beautiful to say that she passed off for a man for the majority of her elongated life [I don't even understand this sentence. And don't TELL US that she's beautiful. That's arrogant storytelling.]. Those around her didn't seem to associate their selves with her, they possibly thought that she was just another civilian [She clearly does not look like a servant or entertainer, therefore the only "civilian" at a Medieval party would be a noble. Therefore, why does no one talk to her?]. Her face usually being hidden isn't exactly one to be recognised by the others at this point [Either your face is recognisable, or it isn't.]. Not to mention she wasn't one of these who like to show off, she just did her duty and what was right in her morals [If you think something is right, then that presumes it's in your morals]. None of this 'namby-pamby-I'd-like-attention-please' nonsense.
In rotating her head back, the liquid bubbles in her neck cracked down her spine and she flexed her hands causing a repetition of the sound in her knuckles. The kitten heels hidden under the rather flamboyant dress mimicked the clicking sound as she walked up the pavement on the hill leading to the doors [We already have a mental picture of the dress. We don't need reminding that it's flamboyment]. Her pace picking up a little more in her walk, some would think that she would be running [She already picked up her pace earlier, and if you are walking quickly then it goes without saying that you're almost running]. The doors opened as she came closer to them, and she was greeted by the vast sound of conversation and laughter from those in the area [It would be rather odd if the sound WASN'T from those in the area. And we already know that she's "come closer to the doors".]. Spending no time to take in the wide and regal space around her she made her way straight to a servant and took a beaker of some disgusting alcoholic beverage, and quietly made her way to a quieter corner of the room, farthest from the music, to admire the artwork upon the walls. Every so often swirling the drink in her hand, giving the impression that she was content in her surroundings. [We know it's a big space, and we know it's around her]
Here's what she DID need to say:
I've cut 209 words, and made her introduction slightly less agonising. The reader has exactly the same imagery as before, and if anything that imagery is clearer thanks to the absence of distractions, over-writing and time-expense.
Now you can try the same technique, with the following post:
This is a post by a former member (so she can't get mad at me)
Her frame was adorned by that of a lengthy ballgown, the lengthy maroon toned embroidery stroked against the stone surface of the pavement. The dark night sky with it's radiance reflecting off of the moon and onto her skin which was immaculately free of any odd pigmentation. Her lengthy red hair was tied up in a golden ring which formed it's way around her head with a gem on the front in the center of her brow. Raising her green eyes to the open gates of the castle grounds, she teetered over towards the doors. Picking up the pace, all she could think about is that she was late. It was unusual for her to be wearing such attire and this wasn't exactly her comfort zone. However, she had been invited to this celebration and of course she had to be there to protect the king and his unborn. Beneath her puffy ballgown was her garter strapped and aligned with different acidic poisons. She had taken part in a session of alchemy before leaving her home, and got into a hectic situation when the spillage occurred, causing her to be late.
Her black golden whip lay neatly under the corset which was tightly pulling in her waist to reveal her particularly feminine figure. It wasn't often that she was out of her armor, although this wasn't a first, those would possibly still be unable to recognise her. She was quite beautiful to say that she passed off for a man for the majority of her elongated life. Those around her didn't seem to associate their selves with her, they possibly thought that she was just another civilian. Her face usually being hidden isn't exactly one to be recognised by the others at this point. Not to mention she wasn't one of these who like to show off, she just did her duty and what was right in her morals. None of this 'namby-pamby-I'd-like-attention-please' nonsense.
In rotating her head back, the liquid bubbles in her neck cracked down her spine and she flexed her hands causing a repetition of the sound in her knuckles. The kitten heels hidden under the rather flamboyant dress mimicked the clicking sound as she walked up the pavement on the hill leading to the doors. Her pace picking up a little more in her walk, some would think that she would be running. The doors opened as she came closer to them, and she was greeted by the vast sound of conversation and laughter from those in the area. Spending no time to take in the wide and regal space around her she made her way straight to a servant and took a beaker of some disgusting alcoholic beverage, and quietly made her way to a quieter corner of the room, farthest from the music, to admire the artwork upon the walls. Every so often swirling the drink in her hand, giving the impression that she was content in her surroundings.
Her black golden whip lay neatly under the corset which was tightly pulling in her waist to reveal her particularly feminine figure. It wasn't often that she was out of her armor, although this wasn't a first, those would possibly still be unable to recognise her. She was quite beautiful to say that she passed off for a man for the majority of her elongated life. Those around her didn't seem to associate their selves with her, they possibly thought that she was just another civilian. Her face usually being hidden isn't exactly one to be recognised by the others at this point. Not to mention she wasn't one of these who like to show off, she just did her duty and what was right in her morals. None of this 'namby-pamby-I'd-like-attention-please' nonsense.
In rotating her head back, the liquid bubbles in her neck cracked down her spine and she flexed her hands causing a repetition of the sound in her knuckles. The kitten heels hidden under the rather flamboyant dress mimicked the clicking sound as she walked up the pavement on the hill leading to the doors. Her pace picking up a little more in her walk, some would think that she would be running. The doors opened as she came closer to them, and she was greeted by the vast sound of conversation and laughter from those in the area. Spending no time to take in the wide and regal space around her she made her way straight to a servant and took a beaker of some disgusting alcoholic beverage, and quietly made her way to a quieter corner of the room, farthest from the music, to admire the artwork upon the walls. Every so often swirling the drink in her hand, giving the impression that she was content in her surroundings.
This is what she DIDN'T need to say:
Her
Here's what she DID need to say:
She wore a ballgown, maroon embroidery that stroked the pavement. The moon reflected on her immaculate skin. Her red hair was tied up in a ring around her head with a gem at her brow. Raising her green eyes to the open gates of the castle grounds, she approached the doors, picking up the pace. It was unusual for her to be wearing such attire. However, she had been invited to this celebration and of course she had to be there to protect the king and his unborn. Beneath her ballgown was her garter strapped with different poisons. She had taken part in a session of alchemy before leaving home, and got into a hectic situation when the spillage occurred, causing her to be late.
Her whip was wrapped neatly around her corset. It wasn't often that she was out of her armor. Those around her didn't seem to associate their selves with her. Her face usually being hidden isn't recognisable. Not to mention she wasn't one of these who like to show off, she just did her duty and what was right. None of this 'namby-pamby-I'd-like-attention-please' nonsense.
She cracked her spine and knuckles. Her kitten heels mimicked the clicking sound as she walked. The doors opened and she was greeted by the vast sound of conversation and laughter. Spending no time to take in the space she made her way straight to a servant and took a beaker of some disgusting alcoholic beverage, and quietly made her way to a quieter corner of the room, farthest from the music, to admire the artwork upon the walls. Every so often swirling the drink in her hand, giving the impression that she was content in her surroundings.
Her whip was wrapped neatly around her corset. It wasn't often that she was out of her armor. Those around her didn't seem to associate their selves with her. Her face usually being hidden isn't recognisable. Not to mention she wasn't one of these who like to show off, she just did her duty and what was right. None of this 'namby-pamby-I'd-like-attention-please' nonsense.
She cracked her spine and knuckles. Her kitten heels mimicked the clicking sound as she walked. The doors opened and she was greeted by the vast sound of conversation and laughter. Spending no time to take in the space she made her way straight to a servant and took a beaker of some disgusting alcoholic beverage, and quietly made her way to a quieter corner of the room, farthest from the music, to admire the artwork upon the walls. Every so often swirling the drink in her hand, giving the impression that she was content in her surroundings.
I've cut 209 words, and made her introduction slightly less agonising. The reader has exactly the same imagery as before, and if anything that imagery is clearer thanks to the absence of distractions, over-writing and time-expense.
Now you can try the same technique, with the following post:
The place was hectic. The poor, the rich, and those in between stood and walked in every direction, the crowd tightly together. It felt almost claustrophobic. But of course, it was mainly due to the Firefox. A ship that was about to sail to legendary Lost City of Moonwings, doxa's destination. Oh, the riches she will enjoy if the 'paradise' was truly real. For once in her life, she would live the life of a luxurious woman a thought that tempted her and broght dreams of gold,jewelry, fancy clothes each night. The poor life was not meant for Doxa, it was clearly she had high ambitions. Looking back at the ocean of people was enough to let Doxa begin her walk to the famous Firefox. Her grip was firm on her messenger bag as it carried her tinkering belt along with her tools. Right now, her googles rested at the crown of her head in case she might need it at any sudden moment. As Doxa tried to walk toward the awaiting ship, people carried boxes, ropes, and other objects she couldn't make out due to the moving crowd. It seemed that she would have to push past some and bump into a few."Hey watch it!" someone yelled from behind her as she accidentally stomped on his feet "Sorry, you were in my way!" she yelled back absently, her mouth spreading into a grin. But too soon it faded as someone else came from her side and bumped into her hard. Somehow, she had manage to get her feet tangled together and as unstably as she was, Doxa fell to the floor. Luckily, the impact wasn't strong enough to have hurt her but still, the scene was pretty embarrassing. The people that had been around her at the time gave her accusatory looks "What are you looking at morons!? Keep walking!" she barked furiously.
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