Notice of Excellence

[ruckus]

Link: The Arcana Campaign - Dougton
Poster: Coal
Reason: The author manages, on a forum where the temptation is often to ignore minor wounds or merely act as though they don't exist, to convincingly render the physical sensation of pain and the confusion by which it is sometimes attended. She displays weakness, folks, and it's refreshing to see that sort of humanity/reality in a character.
Snippet:

Pia did NOT know what hit her. Literally. She had never been hit with any sort of electrical force, and the feeling wracked her body. She tried to speak and found that her throat felt like it had been burned. She gasped, trying to breathe and grab her knife simultaneously. As she felt Mandron push her off the platform, she tried to scream in anger, but no sound came out. Reflecting on the situation later, Pia would question if she had even opened her mouth at all.

There's more to be found in the post that really makes the scene/reaction even more convincing. Exemplary writing, especially considering she's been roleplaying for all of two months.

[hiss the villain]

Link: http://www.valucre.com/showthread.ph...l=1#post206693
Author: Un13eliever
Reason: Striking simile.
Snippet: Suddenly, he smiled. It was a smile that spread across his features like a rift through a canyon; it seemed to split his face in half, as though any moment, one side threatened to tip over, lopsided.

Hell yes. I remember browsing that thread and being struck by that line.

[Archival]

Thread: Laying the Groundwork
Poster: Ikari

Dear Kast,

Your character insights are rich and profound and full of soul. Even your perception of me as an academic lecturer makes me smile. Whenever I revisit our chapter, I read over two beautiful snippets every time. But as our adventure progresses, where I learn more and more about you, a dark and ominous frightening side of you, now I realize why I keep reminding myself of happier times. They are like fragments of memories, innocent and happy, as if from our childhood, even if we’ve only just met...

Kast turned her own burst of crimson eyes over to the man. her hair was taken by the wind and she brushed it back quickly with agitation. I was about to say something and the wind picks up, unbelievable "here let me just shove my hair into my mouth and speak to you. it is our way, our culture". heh..oh no don't laugh at your own jokes...now you're just standing there daydreaming, wake up.

Laughing lightly anyway, she blinked up her gaze again feeling her face grow with a peachy warmth.

Snippet 1

Breeze kicked back up, she watched slowly the drops of water that splashed in the water kick up, catch the sun, and dunk it back into the water. Archival's hair, to the near same length of her's, take flight and crack like little whips at the end. a mixture of ghostly white and ashy blue reached out and tumbled between them playfully, kites tied up one day at the park. Her smile never faded, maybe even grew, but she didn't allow herself to blush. It would give away too much array of emotions. Like shy, embarrassed, the exact location where she hid her romance novels. Those sorts of things. She raised her finger to her forehead, with a sweep she unraveled the friendly lock from it's embrace with his, the breeze died down.

Snippet 2

And then, your daydream. I saw it, somehow. I am recounting only the opening stanza, because the whole scene was both frightening and beautiful. Even you awoke from it with a scream. Under any other circumstances, I would have fled. But, the same as when I hesitate at your suggestion to try Celestial Brew for the first time, I also hesitate and linger. I am so torn right now. I want to run away, but... I’m still here. I’ve been conservative and safe all my life. So... what are you doing to me?

"Answers! Answers! get your answers right here!"a voice came through from under a hat, pinstriped red and white, with a matching ring leader like peatcoat and peach white pants, the Hat had a large brim, and the person was waning about waving pamphlets spinning tickets her long prehensile tail held up, whistling and waving flags. Impishly. The Jest spun around under a spot light attracting Kast's attention and curiosity, moving forwards toward this odd illusion. The announcer whirled around and caught Kast's shoulders with great ease. "Yes my one and great customer step right up and pick any card!What will it be? Ah HoHo!" the flat chested briber held her hands tightly almost sincerly at Kast's shrugged intimidated shoulders. Under the shadow of the hat, she could catch a wry grin, Signature...

[[The rest of Kast’s vision not quoted.]]

Snippet 3

Your... acquaintance,
Archival

[Morgan]

Thread: Somewhere between Patia and Marlboro Keep
Author: Roen
Snippet:

Braziers crackled and burned, rude alters were erected, and people screamed as the Knights of the Bloody Seer bent them backwards and carved out their still beating hearts.

Reason: The entire post is NoE worthy, but the imagery of this single sentence actually gave me nightmares.

[Pony Swag]

http://www.valucre.com/showthread.ph...ed-Invite-Only
Thread: Seeing silver...Full of lead.
Author: Hammy.
Reasoning: The intro of his post seemed a bit forced; but the ending more then makes up for my minor qualms with the beginning. Truthfully I thought her closing dialogue was well composed and rather bad ass.

[Lews Therin Telamon]

Thread: Somewhere between Patia and Marlboro Keep
Author: Morgan
Snippet: Really, the entire thing
Reason: Reading her post a rare ability to weave a tale. I found it quite eloquent and amazing, an so NoE worthy.

[Archival]

Thread: X Murder Mystery
Poster: The Hummingbird
Reason: First post on Valucre that blew me away. Raze's dazzling portrayal of Alexander the Rose Bard almost made me gay for him. Why late nomination? I was newbie, then. My input, I felt, bore little weight. Ever since, I got used to Raze's excellence I've taken it for granted.
Snippet:

What a fabulous night.

Alexander, the great, talented and impeccably fashionable Rose Bard sat on his bed, clutching his harp as he stared out the window. Thoughts of intrigue and romance danced through his mind, brought to life by the silent night, inspired by the stars and glimmering moon. He could hear his muses singing, suggesting ingenious rhymes and clever plots for his next ballad.

The Rose Bard was not called such for nothing. He was a young man who could pull off looking dashing in pink. He wore form-fitting pink slacks and a tight pink tank. Embroidered red roses lined the collar and chest. He hoped it made his muscles stand out. His eyes too. He always wanted to look beautiful and perfect. Fabulous.

His tool of the trade nestled on his lap. The neon-pink harp – with painted pink tulips! – was his ticket to fame. He plucked one of the strings, drawing out a sweet note. He had practiced for years, finally auditioning for a traveling circus. He had told them he would be staying at the Hotel DuPont, and was even now awaiting with high hopes a letter of acceptance. That would be the day all his dreams would come true.

That would be the day he would sweep his beloved Miles Chatterly away. Far away into a fantastic world of romance! Of cherry petals and cream cakes! He sighed as he clutched his harp to his chest, feeling faint at the very thought of his soul mate. With his next lullaby, his finest creation, he felt sure he could charm the lovely official into accepting his love. The man was divine. Perfect. Fabulous! Alexander could not live without his dear Miles. Someday… someday they would embrace. Yes.

Alexander was not ashamed of his preferences. Oh, some had objected, but they were gone now, the bitches. He was free to pursue his destiny with Miles as the gods intended. He stood up, carefully combing his fingers through his fine black hair, plucking out a few strands for a truly daring roguish look to make his green eyes more intense. He wanted to look pretty tonight for his Miles.

He wanted to look…

Fabulous!

[Isolate]

Thread: Somewhere Between Patia and Marlboro Keep...
Poster: ​Lews Therin Telamon
Reason: This snippet is his opening paragraph. Though it was written quite well, what really stood out to me about this piece was the comparison of battle to music. Brilliantly done.

The drums of war had sounded and at last the relentless march had begun, and so had the show. The two opposing forces met on the battlefield, and from their struggles a terrifying dissonant harmony came into being, a concerto of carnage and maleficence. The Knights of the Bloody Seer served as the maestros, keeping the tempo as the blades met their opponent’s flesh and crooned their dark melody, lulling them into sweet perdition as they artfully cleaved flesh from bone and guided, by hand, the souls of the departed into oblivion. The screams of the dying served as a bittersweet harmony, whispering sweet little nothings in the ears of those remaining as the felled rejoined the earth.

[supernal]

Thread: Somewhere Between Patia and Marlboro Keep...
Poster: ​Lews Therin Telamon
Reason: This snippet is his opening paragraph. Though it was written quite well, what really stood out to me about this piece was the comparison of battle to music. Brilliantly done.

Here here!

[Faustus]

Thread: One hour after eating
Poster: Lastlight
Reason: Not only amazing characterization, but startlingly clear insight into that character. It felt like I could feel Artist's frustration in reading the post.
Snippet: I recommend reading the whole post, but these two paragraphs in particular spoke out to me.

"No, I'm not a warrior," he responded sharply. His breath picked up at the same time that his heart began beating faster. His hands came out of their pockets and formed tight fists. "Never have been!" he yelled. "All my life, the only reason I've had to better myself at killing is so that I could earn a life of normality. One where all I have to worry about is putting bread on the table and a shirt on my back." Next, a scene as clear as the bright blue sky hanging over the Garden of E.din flashed before his eyes. His psionic brain brought forth a memory that couldn't possibly be created, as clearly at least, by a mind that wasn't as developed as Artist's, and he saw himself coming too close to death. For that matter, he even saw the altercation he'd had hours before arriving in Aidni however long ago which had left a hole in the knee of his pants.

He'd been stabbed here, blasted there, ambushed elsewhere. Agents of the organization kept getting better and better while he kept moving along, growing tired of bettering himself at an art that he had no passion for, thinking about other ways out. Then, he arrived at Faustus' doorstep, thinking that the Dead might be the angel over his shoulder that he needed to stay alive. And it was. He'd seen, over time, that the attacks occurred in less frequency than they used to, but what was he doing now? Putting himself in more danger for a guy who wasn't quite as bad as Malachi's father was. He had the freedom to do a lot of the things he would have wanted to do when he was in the Organization, but it still felt like he had walked in one huge, bloody circle.

[supernal]

Thread: [urlhttp://www.valucre.com/showthread.ph...l=1#post210124]Two tickets, first class
Poster: odium
Reason: Hilarious
Snippet:

"h-hey mister... a-are you a Peacekeeper?"

He looked up from behind those glasses and with a finger snubbed the cherry of his cigarette before addressing the wide-eyed little boy.

"I sure am, little fella."

"See! Mom, I told you he was Vaile!!"

=\

[Archival]

Thread: A Dangle's Life for Me
Poster: Thaiis
Reason: Insightful; beautifully written; a note of excellence.
Snippet:

She ran her fingers over the etched parchment for what seemed like a whole minute before snapping out of her daze. The scrawled note mentioned the list of items required for the crew's well-being. Rations, parts, and ammunition mostly. She couldn't read it with her eyes, of course, but measuring the indentations in the thick paper she managed to relay the images of letters and numbers into her brain. Each person had their own method of writing, and most people were rather heavy-handed in doing so. Deliberate strokes and serifs were a clear indicator of a serious individual. Cursive was usually an odd one, it was sometimes based off how neat and broad the strokes were before you could tell if the person were elegant and cocky, or just a savage who dabbled in noble arts. Whatever the case, she could ready most hand-written notes by simple indentation.

Hoisting herself from her wicker chair, she pocketed the note in her loose satchel, having all but emptied it out to carry a portion of what she planned to obtain. The note would more than likely get lost and appear days later out of simple chance.

Writing tip: Instead of using 'she' as subject for every sentence, writer used a variety ranging from "scrawled note', 'each person', 'deliberate strokes and serifs', 'Cursive', etc.

[ruckus]

Thread: Carpe Florem
Poster: Hiss the Villain
Reason: Um, being fucking incredible, mostly.
Snippet:

The black spectre laughed, a deep-throated affair entirely at odds with the voice he had manifested earlier. "In a manner of speaking. To be honest, though, no. Nobody knows me- not anymore." Strikingly white eyes of indeterminate color narrowed in an inky face. "Long, long time ago, though, I used to be something." The stranger shrugged, a one-shouldered motion that suggested a casual dismissal. "That's not important." The bright grin grew a touch wider. "You can go ahead and call me Friday. Gotta keep up with the times, right?"

Here Friday leaned forward, and pressed an extended index finger straight down into the surface of the table. "Speaking of the times, you're in a bit of an ugly spot yourself. But all this... business, that's going on outside, all this energy bein' hurled around- all these delicious souls", here he licked his lips, a hand reaching down to pat at his belly in mock satisfaction, "That's what brought me back. And even though I'm in a bit of a tight spot, I figure that means that I owe you. Owe you in a big way. In an Old Way."

Those two words seemed to burn into the night; the place they were in shuddered, as if under great strain. "But being what I am- and isn't that what you said, hmm? Remember yourselves? Well I remember myself, and what I remember is that I don't do anything for free. Thing is, though. You're in a tough spot, I'm in a tough spot. Thing is, we both have something precisely useless to to the person that holds it but absolutely precious to the other, do you understand? Power. I need your power, because I need to be. I need to remember- my memories now are too strong to resist. Do you understand? The lines of my being are being drawn, and I am being forced inexorably into a form I am not yet prepared for. Your power is what I need to free myself from this damnable muteness; your essence is what I require to recover mine."

[AmazonMonk]

Thread: A Brilliant Flash of Luck or Fate
Poster: Starlight_the_Phoenix
Reason: That awkward moment when you realize you're not dead.
Snippet:

I hadn't really expected it to be like this. Of course, I hadn't really known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this...all-encompassing, indistinct light. The thought struck him as funny, though of course he didn't laugh. Laughing required breath, after all. I suppose this means I must have failed. Or maybe this isn't death and I'm simply sharing Verin's fate. Wouldn't that be ironic? The thoughts were like singular raindrops in the soft light of the endless void for all the effect they had. Yet...

He paused in his thoughts, staring hard out into that eternal nothingness. A flicker within the white, a fault in the otherwise perfect fabric of what had become his universe had caught his eye. It was a flicker that came again, brighter this time against the muted tones that surrounded it, and he realized in an almost belated manner that it seemed to be growing larger. A light within light. There's some kind of philosophy in that, I'm sure. Despite the dream-like quality of his thoughts, the light continued to persist in growing both larger and brighter with each passing moment. He tried to close his eyes, to look away from the glaring wrongness of that light, but he could do neither.

Realization struck abruptly as the flickering, violent luminescence grew to consume the entire horizon, such as it was. It's not growing larger. I'm moving towards it. With the thought came other things he'd thought lost to him during his brief existence within the void. Excruciating, burning pain that seemed to originate within the core of his being. The feeling of air against his skin, rushing past him rapidly as he fell swiftly towards the ever-growing rift of chaotic light. Breath that caught in his throat and nose. The taste of blood in his mouth. I'm not dead.

(Decided not to use quote-tag due to italics)

[supernal]

Thread: http://www.valucre.com/showthread.ph...l=1#post211205
Poster: k1b22
Snippet:

{Erik}

Erik trudged forward. It was a simple statement on the surface, but those three words betrayed a much deeper level of emotion. He did not meander on with mild interest, he did not march forth with a sense of duty, Erik trudged forward with frustrated determination to see the end of a journey that had begun months ago. Three months ago. Three months ago his uncle had discovered an old diary, a belonging of his mother’s, that held the story of his mother’s disappearance after his birth, and more importantly, held a name. The name of the mage his mother had turned to in desperation eighteen years ago had been Xela. It wasn’t very long afterwards Erik realized Aliva Corp had placed a bounty on the rough mage, and that his last know location had been a laboratory lost in the southern wilderness of Genesaris. Of course, if a corporation such as Aliva had not found Xela in over fifteen years, there was little hope that a young circus freak could be more successful, but filled with optimistic hope to learn more of his mother’s fate, Erik had set out anyway.