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March 2012 - ACW Guild Challenge


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#1 Kathleen

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Posted 01 March 2012 - 09:01 AM

I remember this one being a bit of a hit last year. And I've noticed that we had a lot of interest in the last few challenges, but haven't seen a lot of entries.

This Challenge is all yours! It is still quite ambitious in that the Challenge is to make something new each week of this month, but you get to choose your own theme!

This theme can carry over for every week, or you can choose a new one each week. You can stick to the craft that you know or try your hand at a mix of new ones.

Its a free for all! And don't worry if you can't get one each week, just show us what you do make as you go :)

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#2 Panchi

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Posted 02 March 2012 - 10:26 PM

This was my favourite last year. I would try to do four this time also.

CAGEMATCHROTATION_zpsc7e4c1c6.gif?t=1403

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#3 dapianoplay3r

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Posted 03 March 2012 - 03:17 AM

I just made all the siggies for the BA in Shayul Ghul. Ill post them once they go public (for those not in the Org)

A work in progress

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#4 Panchi

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Posted 04 March 2012 - 11:37 PM

Here is mine. It's a poem. I didn't write it full in March. I had started in January but only finished it a few days back. I am confused with the title. it should be "Crossing the Styx" or "Crossroads of Life"

I am stuck on this shore
With nowhere to go
One world left
behind
The other forever out of sight.

I can only go ahead
Across
this river wide
But I have got nothing
To pay the ferryman.

I
wander this lonely shore
Wondering what lies ahead
I can be judge only
across the river
But can I ever reach there?

People say it's in the
eyes
The secret to cross this river wide
But what do I know
Unless my
ignorance has knowledge.

I wander this lonely shore
Hoping for a
ride
But would someone help me
Before my hope dies?

The ferryman
calls out
I can go to the Other side
And cross this river wide
Not to
wander this miserable shore.

I board the boat
Full of hopes
At last
the time has come
To leave this unforgiven shore

The boat is
dark
My thought afar
If I had prepared
I wouldn't be left
behind.

The boat goes on
With the only sounds of
The oar that
cuts
And the river that resists.

At last I reach
The Other
side
My hopes all dampened
By the water of the Styx.

I know not if
I am right
To cross this river wide
And come to this shore
To know my
end.

I know not if my life was pure
But I truly hope so
As I walk
through
The Doors of Death.


i don't know why I wrote this but that goes for most of my poems.

CAGEMATCHROTATION_zpsc7e4c1c6.gif?t=1403

SGL of Black Tower. Sitter of Red Ajah. Tai Shaidar Sedai. Clan Leader of Taardad. Head Wise One. Der'tua'nosane.

Bonded to Thorkin, Rand and Chuckles. WT mentor to Niobe, Jaeden Edhel, Nishfa and Morning Mist. Wolf Mommy to Naertho and tonnalea


#5 dapianoplay3r

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Posted 04 March 2012 - 11:49 PM

this was the Sig I did for Lily.
I used the cloth and ink in water to be a representation of channeling and weaves
I also re did the Make up to make it have a darker edge
I recoloured everything except the models dress
Posted Image
Same for these
Posted Image
Posted Image
I changed the dress colour as well on this one
Posted Image

These are the male versions
Posted Image
For these I had to get new heads so I had to photoshop them on
I also added to the shadowing face and eyes to make them more ominous
Posted Image
Posted Image

But yea thats what I made
I also want that suit jacket from the last guy
It is so awesome
Posted Image

Edited by dapianoplay3r, 04 March 2012 - 11:50 PM.

A work in progress

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#6 Kathleen

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Posted 05 March 2012 - 04:43 AM

I always like your poems Pank. You can carry the depth of them through out the whole thing and they always have so much depth to them. You really seem to get the feeling across well!

Wow those are so great! But then your siggies always are :) I love that you actually do so much tweaking to them.

And that suit rocks! I wish more guys wore stuff like that :(

Edited by Kathleen, 05 March 2012 - 04:49 AM.

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ACW Tuathan'an Camp GL ~ Freelanders ADL ~ White Tower RP RGL

 SG Bonded to Karasayl ~ Souvra Bonded to Lily, Myst, MillsRashi & HalliaRP Bonded to Elessar


#7 Panchi

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Posted 05 March 2012 - 10:47 PM

Great siggies!
Is that Ian Somerhalder in last second one? Just curious, remembered Vampire Diaries.

Center alignment changed how I typed the lines but I like this better.

CAGEMATCHROTATION_zpsc7e4c1c6.gif?t=1403

SGL of Black Tower. Sitter of Red Ajah. Tai Shaidar Sedai. Clan Leader of Taardad. Head Wise One. Der'tua'nosane.

Bonded to Thorkin, Rand and Chuckles. WT mentor to Niobe, Jaeden Edhel, Nishfa and Morning Mist. Wolf Mommy to Naertho and tonnalea


#8 dapianoplay3r

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Posted 06 March 2012 - 01:25 AM

I think so. I just chose a bunch of random darkish faces and Lily chose that one cos he is "hot"
I like tweaking them lol its more fun

If I knew how I would make a suit like that

A work in progress

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#9 Xamol Na

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Posted 06 March 2012 - 02:28 PM

Interesting! Hmmm...I'm writing a parody musical, so I may stick to uploading that =)

This is what I have so far for the main song:


Destiny(Incomplete, FD)

Chase
My life is laid out before me
My story's already been told
My choices have been made for me
And will be 'till I'm dead and cold

My friends have all been selected
The Gods know my face and my name
My actions wont be effective
In preventing my rise to fame

When fate chooses you
You answer the call
There's nout you can do
No, nothing at all

You must face the Gods
With your head held high
They'll deal you the odds
And they will not lie

Because
It is your destiny
It pulls you down your path
Fate is not kind to me
And now I fear it's Wrath


Posted Image

#10 LilyElizabeth

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Posted 06 March 2012 - 06:38 PM

Player, I love those so much! Thanks for the time you put in.

I won't be doing this month's challenge. I'm still finishing February's. If one a month is too much for me to find time for, there's no way I can do one a week.

Edited by LilyElizabeth, 06 March 2012 - 06:42 PM.

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#11 Kathleen

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Posted 06 March 2012 - 06:50 PM

You could do a smaller project or try something outside of your craft.

I'm working on crocheting. Technically its part of a larger project, but since each week there is a new pattern to make for a new motif I was going to take a picture of the one I made that week. I just took my picture on my phone camera, but it says its too big to send. I'll have to wait on hubby to get a picture on his phone and then I'll post it here.

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#12 LilyElizabeth

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Posted 06 March 2012 - 06:58 PM

I did just post some bracelets I made this week, but I'm not sure I'll have work for the other three. We'll see....

http://www.dragonmou...41#entry2199141

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#13 Kaylynn

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Posted 09 March 2012 - 07:51 PM

I think I might do it but it might be a whole series of little things for my DD cake. There is so much to do like ladybugs and stuff out of fondunt and gumpaste. oh the work ahead......hmmmmmmmm........I might be tired of sugar by the end of the month b/c I think it starts to be absorbed through the skin or something. :blush:
Posted Image

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#14 Kathleen

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Posted 10 March 2012 - 05:01 AM

That's great lily! Ps I like shinies *looks around all innocent like*

To both of you no these dont have to big things at all. Any creative thing you've finished that week counts. If its a topper for a cake or a pic of homemade supper, a doodle of a dog on your boring school notebook or a quick silly poem that just comes to you, they all count and they are all worth the mention cause they exist because of you!

I'll be mostly doing crocheted squares that are all part of one blanket.

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#15 Kathleen

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Posted 10 March 2012 - 05:07 AM

Ooh and Xamol I thought I already replied to your song which I thought was really good. What kind of tempo and such does it have? Who songs it? What is the script about? Sort im a theatre baby these things get me all mooneyed.

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 SG Bonded to Karasayl ~ Souvra Bonded to Lily, Myst, MillsRashi & HalliaRP Bonded to Elessar


#16 LilyElizabeth

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Posted 10 March 2012 - 10:45 AM

It's not a completed work but I finished the first draft of February's story yesterday.

LilySig3-14.gif
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#17 wottom

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Posted 12 March 2012 - 03:50 AM

This is late for week one but hope it's ok to enter late. Means I have to work hard to catch up.

Three friends
Four taverns
Five dice
Six flagons

One hunt
One horn
Three friends
One purpose

One morning after
Too ill to notice
Three solid friends
Forswore an oath

One hunt
One horn
Three friends
One purpose

Three choices, three dice
Three friends, three rolls
Three pips, three pips
One pip, one winner

One hunt
One horn
Three friends
One purpose

#18 Mashiara Sedai

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Posted 17 March 2012 - 12:13 PM

Ohhhh... I love your poem wottom! Fantastic! I also skipped week one, but here's a start of a new story for week two. For week three, I'd like to try something different. We'll see if I really will, though. This story doesn't have a title yet. 2,300 words; I hope that's not too long to post...


The common room was filled to bursting. Markle was squished into a table with four other men, their bodies packed together like sardines. There was barely enough room for his plate in front of him. He and the man sitting beside him had developed a sort of complex system. One had to eat while the other drank and then they alternated because there wasn't enough room for them both to lift their hands at the same time. This meant that his smoked fish was cold by the time he finished eating it. Still, the meal was delicious and made up for the lousy dining arrangement.

A heaviness hung in the room from all the people pressed so close to one another. It created an atmosphere that was companionable and annoying at the same time. If he had been back home, the people around him would have been his friends or his brothers; the closeness wouldn't have bothered him in the slightest. These men were strangers. They included him in their discussion and treated him cordially, but there was still an emotional distance. He had a slight desire to retire to a room upstairs but the effort of pushing his way through the crowd to reach the stairs seemed too daunting. It would clear out before midnight; most of these men would have to work in the morning.

Once Markle's meal was done, he ordered another mug of ale from the barmaid and sat back to enjoy the entertainment. While he ate, a man juggled ten colored balls. It had been interesting to watch during the stints when he was forced to keep his hands still while his neighbor ate. Now, a group of four women played musical instruments. The lead held a wooden lute with eleven strings instead of the usual fifteen. The instrument was missing two courses; Markle hadn't seen one like that before. The shape of the lute was similar to those he played at home, except it was a bit longer in the neck. He wondered where she had gotten such a thing. The other players had a flute, a tambourine, and a small drum. They were decent, and Markle tapped his foot in time to the music.

When their song ended, there was a scattered applause. Most men didn't have an ear for music. It was considered a woman's art. Markle had learned how to play many instruments from his mother in place of sisters—since he had none. His four older brothers filled out their father's fishing crew; there was no room for Markle to accompany them. Fishing boats in his town were family operations and no other boat would have him. So, his mother had passed on to him her woman training and he had no choice but to learn. That was how he knew exactly which spices had flavored his fish and how he knew the cut and cloth type of all the outfits in the room.

It was really a source of embarrassment for him. His mother was very fond of telling the story of his life to anyone who would listen. After her fourth son was born, she wanted a daughter. She and Markle's father had gone to the village's herb witch and asked for a spell to have a girl child instead of a boy. The witch did so and Mother became pregnant right away. The only problem was that Markle had been born a boy, not a girl. The family had no need for another boy, so Markle felt like the outcast of the family. He had to place within its structure and no purpose to his life.

Markle sighed, remembering his childhood. The things his mother taught him were enjoyable enough. He liked to cook and play the lute. He enjoyed having deep conversations with her while they darned Father's old shirts. Still, she treated him like a daughter and it had made him increasingly uncomfortable as the years progressed. That was the reason he was in this town right now. He couldn't stand living with his family anymore.

His parents hadn't really objected when he told them he had to leave. Father understood that he had no place among the fishermen and Mother knew that he wouldn't be able to find a man willing to marry him, though she had tried to talk him into trying. There was no choice but for him to move on. They gave him what money they could and sent him to their cousins who lived in a farming community about 500 miles to the south. He had been traveling for ten days and probably had another ten to go.

The women on stage bowed and the crowd clapped; Markle had the feel it was only out of politeness, though. As the group of women left the raised platform another woman took their place. She was very pretty and wore a dress design Markle had never seen. Her long black hair was pulled into two tails on either side of her face. The cloth of her dress was spun wool, in a shade of red that was nearly black, but the material clung to her tightly, and only flared out after her hips. Women usually didn't wear such snug garments for comfort sake, his mother had said. It looked incredibly uncomfortable to him, but the other men at his table had their eyes glued to the woman's curve that were accentuated by the dress.

Slowly, the woman began to dance. There was no music. Her feet were bare and the skirt flowed back and forth over them. She kept her arms by her side and began to swivel her hips. Markle realized that this was probably the reason it was tight around that area. The graceful motions she made dazzled him with their suggestions. The room had fallen into a hushed silence; even the other women's eyes were glued to the dancer.

She took a step forward and began to shuffle her feet in time to the rotation of her hips. Then, she added in gentle and delicate hand movements. She was like the wind, floating rose petals in a soft breeze. She was the ocean's wave during the calm after the storm. She was beauty and nature all wrapped up in an incredibly tight dress.

Her movements, which had been slow and deliberate began to gain speed. As she did so, her gestures became wild, like the fury of the storm unleashed. Her long tails of hair swung around her with reckless abandon. The skirt of her dress swirled up around her as she spun precise circles. When it looked like she had gone as fast as she could, she increased her speed. Her feet flicked in and out of her skirts, kicking high into the air and landing with perfect timing.

After several minutes her tempest slowed. She let her hands drop, moving only her feet and hips. Then she ceased her shuffles. For two more heartbeats she swung her hips from side to side. Then, she stopped.

Markle felt as if he had come out of a daze as he stared at the woman on the stage. The whole performance had been like magic. She had captivated him and filled him with so much longing and desire he could hardly keep himself from running towards her. Then he realized that every other man in the room looked on the point of rushing her too. She hadn't been dancing for me, he thought, feeling his face blush with embarrassment. Why had it felt like she had?

There was only a few moments of silence before the room erupted in cheers. The woman smiled widely, bowed, and then jumped off the stage. The men closest gathered around her, complimenting her beauty and her skill. Markle felt an inkling of jealousy that those men were able to say everything he was thinking. Then he berated himself. She was not an old woman, but she looked older than him by a good many years. So, she had danced beautifully; that was no reason to fall head over heels for an older woman.

Suddenly feeling grumpy because he had been hoodwinked like the rest of the fools, Markle got to his feet and pushed his way through the bodies to the innkeeper. The room had become noisy once again so he had to shout to get the man's attention.

"I'd like to be shown to my room now, if you please," Markle said.

The man looked at him and nodded. "As you wish, young Master. However, please forgive me for this, but we require all payment in advance. I mean no disrespect, it's just we have to be careful, you understand?"

"Of course," Markle said. Most inns had required the fee up front. Untying his belt pouch, Markle reached in for a handful of silver coins. There was nothing there. He stretched his fingers further. Still nothing. He glanced down at the pouch and pulled the opening wide to peer inside. It was empty. Earlier today he had five gold coins and thirty silver left in his pouch. He had only spent one silver coin on the meal and ale. It was impossible for all his coins to be gone.

"Is there something wrong, young Master?" the innkeeper asked. His tone was still polite, but his eyes had narrowed.

"My pouch is empty," Markle told him, his voice breathy and unbelieving. "It was full when I sat down to dinner. I had paid one of the barmaids but there was still more in here."

"Did someone have access to your belt while you ate?"

"Of course not," Markle said. "We were all jammed in so tight no one could have touched it without me noticing."

"I am sorry, young Master, but if you don't have the coin, I cannot give you a room."

Markle blinked in confusion. What was going on? There was no way those coins could have just disappeared. He had paid for the meal, felt the rest of the coins in the pouch, watched the juggler, ate his fish, drank his ale, then watched the last two performers. It was completely impossible for him to lose his money while sitting in a crowded inn.

"But I had some," Markle told the man. "I'm not lying. I had at least thirty silver coins and five gold. Where has it gone?"

"Does your pouch look like it's been cut from the bottom?"

Markle felt along the seam of the leather pieces. He had sewn this himself and knew the stitching was excellent. His fingers felt the stitches; all were in place. No one could have climbed under the table to cut a hole in it anyway. Not even a child could have squeezed through that confined table.

"No, there's no hole," he said in amazement.

"I am sorry," the innkeeper repeated. "If you have no more coin, not even for ale, I'm afraid I must ask you to leave, young Master."

"But I—" What else could he do? There was no logical explanation for what had happened; the innkeeper wouldn't believe his coins had just vanished. Grimacing, Markle nodded. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Markle went back to the table he had shared with the other men and grabbed his traveling pack. It contained a few days change of clothes as well as his other necessities. Down at the very bottom of the pack was his handmade lute. He kept that hidden at all times, unless he was alone. He said quick farewells to the men there, though their attention still seemed to be on the dancer. Well, at least he had been polite and kept to the formalities.

Outside in the dirt street, Markle looked around. Hippshaw was a coastal town, and like all the others before it had the smell of the wind, waves, and salt in the air; that made him homesick. Full night had already fallen and a three-quarter moon was rising over the ocean to the east. He would have a hard time finding a sympathetic person in the dark. Most families wouldn't even let a stranger in during the daytime. Baffled by the whole event, and cursing his bad luck once again, he began to walk south through the town. A few nights he had been forced to sleep under trees off the dirt path; what was one more night? He had a blanket in his pack so he wouldn't freeze. But how was he to get to his cousin's farm if he had no money?

Once past the last house of the town, Markle began to look for a nice place to set up camp. If he was lucky, he would be able to find some dry branches and start a fire. A presentable place appeared not a mile outside the town. It looked like it had been a campsite before. There was even a stone circle for a fire pit.

He found a handful of branches suitable for a fire and used his flint stone to get one started. Before long, he had a nice sized fire blazing in front of him. The nights chill vanished slightly and Markle sat down in his blankets and stared at the flames. The bizarre events of this evening ran through his mind. When had there been an opportunity for someone to steal my coins? The pouch strings had been tied tight when I approached the innkeeper. There was not a single second out of the day that he could not account for. It didn't make sense and the strange feeling the situation gave him kept him up most of the night.

Lwwcryptochamp_zps17ab7381.jpg

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#19 LilyElizabeth

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Posted 23 March 2012 - 03:43 PM

I think I'm accidentally keeping up with the challenge. I just finished this a few minutes ago:

Posted Image

LilySig3-14.gif
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#20 Mashiara Sedai

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Posted 25 March 2012 - 01:30 PM

Yay, I've completed another week! This is only my second attempt at a mozaic. It's not as good as I had hoped. Either way, it's the rising sun of Cairhein.

~Mashiara

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