In your fanciest prose, describe this painting

The sad Ivan sat on the mat

I have no words

Mooooooooozart!

Brother's Karamazov alternate ending

some post raphaelite gumbo a look of terror, death so everyone thinks its deep whys he got a hockey stick nigga

Musk and dust overcome by the terror of a last breath.

probably sleep deprivation

Good

I visit these kind of threads to cringe and laugh at the people who do an honest attempt.

I come to these threads to cringe and laugh at you

lmao

Everyone on this board is too severely depressed to take an honest attempt at your challenge.

lmao why he kissing that dude tho? what a gay

So blank and shocked, his expression, mocked my horror. The blood. My god, the blood. Shh, Son. Come closer. I'll keep you safe.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAPP

>too severely depressed

*cowardly

...

Thanks for the heads up.

I DISAVOW THE CZAR

>sad
Is that all you see

For sale: princely shoes, never worn.

whats the red stuff coming out of his head?

Is this what passes as clever satire on Veeky Forums now?

>spend time writing post
>think 'this is so clever i bet the guys on Veeky Forums will get a kick out of it
>it gets insulted instead

I'm crestfallen...but you know what? I'm not going to let it get me down. I will just have to try harder next time. I will make my satire edgier, cleaner, more on-point, more thought-provoking.

Thank you Veeky Forums for keeping me on my toes and inspiring me to be the best I can be. I don't want to be some wannabe, I WILL get better at shitposting satire.

its a good imitation, actually

No it really isn't.

God when did this board get so dumbed down.

it is, though, since its almost indistinguishable from real stuff i see all the time

no

It's not. You've grown to think this kind of stuff is said by real people because you've seen way too many satirical forms of it watching your favourite alt-right Youtubers debunking the evil SJWs.

Maybe leave the house a little more and meet real humans, or just read instead of shitposting 24/7.

no, thats not me, and youre wrong, there are real people who say stuff like that almost verbatim, all the time

i wouldnt even say thats what all leftists sound like or anything, im not an alt-righter, but pretending those people are made-up cartoon characters is either dishonest or wrong. hate to say "explore the internet more" because it sounds pathetic, but maybe you should if youre going to deny the existence of certain character types.

>The blood of his son spread like a colorless flame, burning up all the air in the room, all the air in his lungs, sulfur clinging to his skin and hair so that he was entirely consumed by the thing he had done. The flame was then a great storm, and a hot copper flood was upon him, and he was drowning in it. His own blood ran cold as if it was his that had been spilled. The sound of a pulse, suddenly horrible, pounding, suffocating, at once a roaring fire and a tempest—"Damn me! I have killed my son! Lord, turn your eyes from me. Come, Lucifer, and bear me to hell! Oh, damn me, I have killed my son! I have killed my son!" But as a fire is snuffed, and a flood recedes, that infernal pulse faded to a whisper, and Ivan was alone, and he wept.

velveteen
6.5/10
pretty good, but i want more than just dialogue

What's next? You gonna ask me to take the red pill? LOL

As walls of the palace finally stopped echoing of screams, beams of light have halted, impudently refusing to follow the pathing of fate, as if to mock the tragedy, illuminating the streams of blood that finally sealed their silken robes, like letter containing this end, which Ivan, for so long thought he avoided, but has only been nearing it with his each deed. How far away did Pskov seem now. How far and unimportant, like Warsaw or Riga or any other damned town across the north's leaf covered fields; but sometimes, too late we see what is really important, too late we realize what is happening in our own back yard with our eyes covered by gold and glitter of China and Byzantium, by all the God-damned Pskovs and Rigas of the world we live in. How warm can even the coldest heart get, but as it justly often is, too late for it to matter.

Yeah, this is not yours, is it.
If it is, gtfo of here and go write, youre good.

"Wowza" said Tyrone Pantalopes as his tumultuous tumble rumbled. The red reminding him of a bloody steak with the crimson hitting the red potatoes turning the white mash more rose than anything else. "I sure am hungry" with mad eyes he stared in the crazed eyes of the lost father. Tyrone last his father in a rather unexpected potato famine. He held his father, ironic he thought how the father is holding the son. "Too many rugs" there was too many rugs.

I know you loved this rug, Ivan. The stain may not come out though.

Gloom and red and rotten caking blood were playing out upon the eyes that reddened and that stung with tears as sunlight low but blinding stole into the room and gently rusty tang from what had done the awful deed was tasted in the mouth that still yet lived along with copper from the dead man's ruined life.

what did you not like about mine user? if you don't mind my asking
i'm

The cane clattered to the ground as the old man collapsed. I grabbed his torso and, collaboratively, we broke his fall. He was pathetic, falling overhimself in his night gown and cap, surrounded by the books which he never read. The books which could have saved him, lay in a layer of dust. He sobbed into my chest, and I looked up to nowhere in particular, the smoke and air burning my eyes.

Sorry, I honestly don't know how to express it. I recognise good prose when I read it, but I can't quite put into words exactly why I like something and dislike some other thing. The user I responded to is better writer imo.

>...as sunlight low but blinding stole into the room and gently rusty tang from...

I would suggest putting a comma after "Sunlight", its a bit confusing as it reads right now. Also I have no idea what "gently rusty tang" means. Thats one long ass sentence. I'm not sure if you meant it to be confusing as satire or not. Bits of this decent though.

jesus christ this reply is cancer

the post you're praising is riddled with grammatical errors and is just all-around poorly written, clearly by someone who knows english as a second language. it's laughably bad, it's the worst in the thread, you have shit taste, please leave.

Something Wrong
I hold my Head
Ivan gone
My heir dead.

fuck you tripfag

"His body was stiff and heavy, with a cruel effort Ivan's muscles struggled to place his son's head on his chest in a hug of complete desparation, clenching his head, longing to feel the eminating life from his son and in turn getting nothing but the cold dreaded emptyness of complete lifelessness, lifting his gaze from his son the realization hits him, but this time not by pure capricous instinct, this time the realization is a thought materlized inside his mind,overburdingly accentuated as if written with capitalized letters weighing more then a building crushing his momentarily relative sanity completely "MY SON IS DEAD", this thought seemed to suck the light out of the room like a vaccum leaving nothing but a father and a son, one alive and one dead, illuminated by a slight gleam of now forshadowing the coming of a bleak future."

i hate tripsfucks too but he's correct

"He brushed too hard," the guy thought.

"I got wrecked son, there's no two ways about it"

The crimson hue of the floor rug reiterating the violence of the scene. The elderly man cloaked in black, suggesting he is Death. Although, he seems horrified at the death of this younger man, so tragically lost. However, the horror in his eyes hint that he may be the cause.

meh.

...

Stained... Stained, he lay dead in the hands of his own blood -- stained by his own blood. Dying, he heard the heart slow down, not his, but his brother's, upon whose chest he lay his head, breathing his final breath.

If I've ever read a boring prose.

Boorish and long winded first sentence

The blood cooled and the silence rose. A sense of finality swept over the old man, and he knew the pulse he felt in his hand was merely his own. He clutched the soaking, bloodied locks of his son's hair, slick and grown, and briefly recalled the soft, downy newborn hair it was long ago. Years flashed by in moments, and moments stretched out eternally. Images and fragments hung frozen in his mind. The lifted arms, the wide-eyed shock. The body falling to a pathetic crumple, the dull, tremendous thud on the floorboards. He sat there alone, hearing only the sound of his own labored, panicked breathing, lost but bound by inescapable fate.

Shit
bretty good

>Years flashed by in moments, and moments stretched out eternally.
This is the only part of this that's shit

the rest is stronk

Appreciate it. I agree with you on that sentence reading back on it now. But it's touching on an idea of memory I'd like to explore more, but it's tricky avoiding the cliche.

Wide eyes eye widely lips which crest upon shattered crown; father's hands clutch tenderly the waist and temple of son. These same hands stained crimson: warm yet cold: warm as snow. Uprooted furniture and threadbare rug, landscape of a battle fought yet unwon. Abraham clasps Isaac, ram unfound.

holy shit that's fucking awful

I wouldn't call this "fucking awful" like the other poster but it feels indulgent and aimless. You seem bent on abstracting and venturing into reference and wordplay, but only for the sake of showing off.

t. brainlet
OP asked for fanciest prose, not best prose

>OP asked for fanciest prose, not best prose
Oh my bad, congrats on writing aimless, indulgent garbage.

do you ever get claustrophobic in that little mind of yours

And I see at once all the years I’ve given. The road I laid down, inch by inch, these cracked hands working over the crumbling, broken teeth of this place. The path for him to follow. Just there, in the sun.

Footprints in dust. Filled with blood, washed away. What is left?

My God, I have forgotten green

A++

Crimson like marmalade on the palace steps. What a man. What an era. Holding fast his dying son like the passing eons of his legal system. Do enough as a man and you will do a disservice in history. What broad strokes are painted in the pages of history textbooks. What fine minute arcs of paint are fashioned on the canvas of eternity.

couldnt respond because brother who uses the same ip got banned for shitposting for a day just moments arter i posted this

it probably stands out because its not as emotionally engaging as the first one
just to warn you, long sentences are my style, this one is not even that long-winded compared to how i generally write

writing short, simple and emotionally engaging is not really my thing

What does that even mean? How can writing be aimless and indulgent? You're the same kind of person that doesn't like a film because it 'tries too hard'.

Alarmed by the noise the bodyguards came running towards the entrance. Realizing what had happened they quietly closed the doors so as not to meddle in family affairs. Inside the Hall the Tsar held his dying son, begging for mercy and shielding him from further blows by an invisible attacker who taunted him from the shadows. This evil presence soon grew bored with the ridiculous carpet spectacle and disappeared, leaving behind the stick which had caused the mortal wound. Iwan had always thought of himself as a lonely man, but now he knew the true taste of being alone. He remained frozen and his lips touched the cold head of his son when the sun went down.

I tried offering something constructive for you initially and you've only devolved into a defensive manchild. Get fucked.

Your criticism was stupid though. There's nothing wrong with reference and wordplay, and frankly what other point is there for using reference and wordplay in prose other than to show off? Don't get so defensive yourself, manchild.

>frankly what other point is there for using reference and wordplay in prose other than to show off?
I almost took the time to give you a thoughtful reply, but then I read this. You're beyond hope.

So your actual answer is that you don't know. I was hoping we could actually have a conversation, but clearly you're a bit dim.

Your reaction to criticism couldn't be more childish. No wonder your prose is shit, you don't seem to have the capacity for anything but praise. You don't need writing advice, you need therapeutic help.

Lot of weird syntax and clunky word choice, but there's some interesting things going on here. Is English your first language?

he deed

What. The. Fuck.
Like wtf.
The emotion is so real.
I need a break.

not native speaker, i just wanted to bump with something

Are you retarded? I'm trying to find out what the fuck you were on about mate, but every time I try and engage you start attacking me. Just fuck off.

You can pretend you were "trying to understand" but all I see is some very simple, clear criticisms and someone going into hardcore denial mode in response. Nice victim mentality you got there, sorry Veeky Forums doesn't treat you with kid gloves like your creative writing course.

This is good user

I don't understand what you meant when you said I was showing off, that's all. How do you think referencing and wordplay should be done user?

horrible

His so's dead and Ivan is pretty fucking distraught, senpai

you don't even know about grammar, you don't put commas where there should be periods, it makes things look weird capiche?

I see people like you on f-list all the time. Learn to use periods

erase it all but the last sentence

thx for constructive criticism senpai :)

>The blood of his son spread like a colorless flame
How can anyone read past this shit? It's like the most cliche writing in a high-school class. It's vomit inducing

and thus began ivan the 5ths reign of terror

I really value well-done subtly with respect to reference and wordplay. Both things can add a lot of depth to a piece, but also can be misused in a way that I find distracting and (as I've said) self-indulgent.

I like the ambition of the first sentence, but I think most of the wordplay disrupted the basic sentence structure, not to mention the overall emotional tone. Feels like a case of putting the cart before the horse.

The Binding of Isaac is a great source for reference here, but here it doesn't extend much further than namedropping. I probably wouldn't even explicitly name them, but use well-known descriptions and associations with the story/characters and parallel them to the main narrative. As a reader I like uncovering those references on my own, instead of having them be spoonfed to me, so I try to do the same when I write. The ram reference was the one saving grace for me.