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Weekly Contest #270
Summer 1908. The ocean was a dream. Glinting emerald waves with pearlescent seafoam. It quivered under the harsh breeze. The Cassandra was a boon of a ship, born from Parisan hands with its elegant sharpenings and fine stained wood, golden accents glinting under the harsh sun. The boat swayed in the water urging the sailors to hurry atop it, urging them to take to the sea with a desperation. They were set to sail for Greece. To collect a large shipment of olives to aid in overcoming the recent drought. Liam carried two bags over his shoulder...
Weekly Contest #269
No one ever said being the chosen one is easy. Val Clemence is living proof of that. On her quest to return the world to normalcy, she'd gone from a Cali-born beauty with lustrous red hair and a slim fit to a soldier who bested beasts with ease. Her long ruby red hair had been lost to a fireball, and she'd had to crop it short to her shoulders, so that it layered in a wild, frenzied look. Her stormy gray eyes had been the prime feature of her face, until she'd lost the right one to a lucky fling of the dagger. Now a scar stood in its wreckag...
Weekly Contest #268
It starts as most things between handsome boys and shy girls do - with a crush. I'm walking to AP Latin. The crowds in the corridors are booming with excited pubescents hurrying along in bright lavender bomber jackets. It's basketball season, and everyone's beaming for the match this afternoon. I'm not. Obviously. I rarely ever beam. It's not a word to be associated with me. I snark at most. And I'm snarking up a storm currently. People keep bumping into me. Smelling too much like teenagers and cheap cosmetics for my liking. I have to wait...
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