Rudie would be best buds with these guys. +1
Post-contest commentary:
I actually wrote this at 2am after having not slept for over 40 hours. I was never 100% happy with it, but it did well in the rankings, so I decided not to mess with it.
There is a specific reason why "red" is the first word. Although I clumsily tried to tie "red" to SCP-140's love of blood, in a now deleted entry (also written at 2am without much sleep), that was not the original reason. The story that explains the real reason was supposed to be submitted for the contest, but I couldn't finish it in time. Nevertheless, I will hopefully be able to post it soon.
Edit (7 months later): Ok, I promised this story "soon", and then I didn't deliver. This is what happened: I ended up accidentally combining my universe from "The Fifth Syllable" with the Foundation-verse Daeva, but ultimately decided that I didn't want to co-mingle the two, and also I didn't necessarily want to submit my universe to the SCP copyright license. I never was able to straighten that out, so I never posted the story. I doubt anyone was on pins-and-needles over it, but I did want to explain.
Reminds me of that Pattern Screamer article on the SCP wiki, where it goes into how the pattern screamers were denizens of another world, but then the Pattern came along and tore up their world, while simultaneously creating a world of order. So in order to survive, the previous natives had to squeeze and cut and change themselves in order to fit into the new world, but eventually leaving parts of their identities behind.
I enjoyed the beginning heavily and the set up but the tie in to our world felt weird. I wanted to know more about the division and the things that happened when words were made and how it tore at the beings residing there. 9 years later and I would enjoy a sequel.
Sorry, -1
I liked it. The idea of a world without words being limited by the creation of words is fascinating.
Very interesting, +1
Despite the power to destroy, these words painted a wonderful picture. +1
Well this is just fantastic. Exactly as long and as prosaic as it needed, and with a fascinating idea explored to fruition and left to finish ripening on the shelf of the reader's mind. I'll be nibbling on this one for a good long while. Tastes like almost-done, still-astringent plums (my favourite time to devour them — from the branch of my neighbour's tree where it hangs over into our yard).
-Styg
What is life if not the contrast between what has been and what will become?
