Post Reply Tell me a story
Posted 12/3/17 , edited 12/3/17

Here's a game where someone posts a picture and the next person tells a story or writes a poem about the picture.



Story time !
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48 / F / Reston, VA, USA
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Posted 12/5/17 , edited 12/5/17
Once upon a time there was a painter who used the tip of his beard to make his paint brushes.

Hmmm not sure where to go from there - someone else help!
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Posted 12/5/17 , edited 12/5/17
His paintings were not ordinary, but magical works of art that were actually keys to other realms. For his true identity was mysterious to say the least. I guess in some way he was the key to these places and he put a part of himself into every painting. People who saw his paintings were mesmerized by how real they seemed. He never allowed anyone to touch the paintings in order to avoid accidental transfers to these realms. So they had to settle for looking at the paintings from behind a rail.
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Posted 12/7/17 , edited 12/7/17
One day he discovered one of his paint brushes was missing. He assumed that he'd lost it in the woods with all the happy little trees he'd been painting. However, a week later he woke up to the worst morning of his adult life! Someone had come in during the night and shaved his beard entirely off! He was in absolute shock! He had never been without his beard since he was old enough to grow one. He went to the police station to report the theft, but they didn't believe him. His friend who worked for the police didn't even recognize him and thought he was a fraud.
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Posted 12/19/17 , edited 12/19/17
He went back to his living quarters which was above the gallery. Since the police did nothing to investigate, he examined the locks himself and didn't see any sign of tampering. This was a mystery indeed. A disturbing thought passed through his mind and he hurried down the stairs to examine the paintings. He was relieved to see they were intact and undisturbed. He talked to the security guard for a bit then went back upstairs.

He looked in the mirror and frowned. They really did a hack job on his face, so he cleaned it up and shaved it right. He never used his razor but he did have one. Satisfied with his appearance now, he went and sat in front of his new piece of work. It was not completed yet, but it was his best work yet. The forest was a bit darker yet beautiful and mystical. He sighed and went to bed, failing to notice that at the base of this painting was a small cluster of his hair that was dropped.

~
Ana watched from behind a tree a short distance away as the man on the other side of the portal looked into her world. She discovered this portal a while back but was afraid to get too close to it. It was not far from her cabin. She had seen when the other men passed through and come back out. She had no idea what they wanted from the other side, but they were long gone now.
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Posted 12/20/17 , edited 12/20/17
He tossed and turned in bed, unable to rest due to feeling exposed after his home had been entered by unknown people and he himself had been assaulted in his sleep by having his beard removed. Eventually after spending a bit of time in a nightmarish half doze, he decided to take a walk. As he passed his latest painting he couldn't help but feel that it was missing something, although he wasn't able to put his finger on exactly what it was. He closed up and locked his loft and exited through the gallery. Yes, each of those paintings just "felt" right to him...except the last one on the wall by his desk. He'd seen it a thousand times since he finished painting it and placed it there. It was his current favorite and he had placed it where he could see it every day. But today it seemed somehow dimmer, or duller. Pondering this as he closed shop and let the guard know that it was closed for the day due to personal reasons, he headed out to his favorite fishing pond off the beaten path. He stopped at the bait shop he always used and again had to explain who he was to the clerk who didn't recognize him. That was going to get old quickly, he wondered if there were a way to grow his beard back more rapidly. He pulled off the road, grabbed his pole, the bait, and a ratty old folding chair and headed down the almost invisible trail to his fishing mecca.
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Posted 12/21/17 , edited 12/21/17
He came back home somewhat disappointed. "I guess the fish just aren't biting today" He thought... Putting his fishing equipment away, he walked up to his painting and examined it. It was his best work yet, but now he felt that he had been hasty in putting it up there, it was not finished yet, though he still was not sure what was missing. It loomed before him as if whispering unspoken secrets he was not seeing. He took it down and removed the frame and was just about to put it on the easel when he noticed some hair sticking to the paint at the bottom. He did remember that the night he lost his hair he had been touching up the rock edge at the bottom just before he went to bed. All his paintings had a stone portal on the other side but to this side all that could be seen was a few rocks that could be stepped over if going into the painting.

He frowned as he examined the few hairs stuck there now. Then noticed what he had forgotten to put on his picture. Off to the right his signature was missing. No painting should miss that. He quickly painted in the signature. He left it on the easel to examine it further later. Right now he needed to go have something to eat and fish was obviously not going to be on today's menu.

~
Ana made her way back to her obscure little cabin, carrying two buckets of water. A tendril of hair escaped from under her cap and she quickly tucked it back in. She lived in a dark dangerous magical world, where those of the light did not survive long if they were discovered. So they had to remain hidden suppressing their light as much as possible, til the day came when they would be free to shine again. But for now she had to hide in boys clothes and keep her hair cropped short under a cap. Females had the worst fate in this world.

People of light had brown hair that shimmered with the light of a rainbow. They were pure of soul and peaceful. But there were those that would use their energy to feed on and to create hybrids from the women. This race that call themselves the Ilinears ruled over this world and very little escaped their notice.

When the portal first showed up in her world Ana had thought of escaping to the other side but thought better of it as she gazed at its surface. She wondered if that world was also ruled by darkness, so she watched and waited.
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