PLEASE NOTE THAT I NO LONGER HAVE AN E-MAIL ADDRESS. IS IT POSSIBLE TO RECEIVE MY PASSWORD BY PRIVATE MESSAGE INSTEAD? THANK YOU.

FORM:

Member name: Pyrrah

Personal details:
I was born in the year of the Dragon, according to the Chinese Lunar Calendar. My favorite character is Pyrrah. I have also been memorizing the Draconian alphabet, and am fairly fluent now! I'm 16 years old, and I like Irish and Tap dancing. I also like Shirley Temple and am also a member of Shirley's message board.

Characters you’d like to play:
Pyrrah, Kitt, and Parm.

Previous RP experience and writing abilities:
No previous RP experience. But, I'm here to learn! As for writing ablilities, I do write short stories for my friends, and they all seem to enjoy them. My school also published a few stories of mine once.
Writing sample:

PLEASE MARK THAT THIS IS BASED ON A DREAM THAT I HAD.
(Note that in my dream, Artha's secret did not last forever, and several crew leaders now know he is the Dragon Booster)

The night was thickly dark, and Beau slept soundly after a rigorous day of racing, training and crime-fighting. Too tired to even mag off the last gear, it was no wonder that he didn't notice or care when he felt a little pinprick on his shoulder.

Meanwhile, in a little alleyway, the Penn Racing Team was having a heated conference with the other crew leaders. Kitt was staring at Pyrrah with distrust. "How can we believe you again, after what you did to get the Furox?" Pyrrah answered with a careless attitude, but her voice was full of rage. "I don't see why you asked me here then . . . " Artha stepped in. "Hey guys, we're here to stop a war, remember?" Pyrrah tossed her head angrily. "We need EVERYONE," Artha continued. Over in the corner, Lance was tossing a coin up and down impatiently. "Ar-r-tha-a!! I'm sleepy!" he fretted. There was a collective sigh. "Will you come again tomorrow?" Artha asked. Phistus, Khatah and Stewardd nodded, and silently stole away. Pyrrah stood and glared at Kitt with contempt. "Only if I am really needed!" she finally snapped, and strode away. Kitt gritted her teeth. She didn't like the way Pyrrah had fooled her. "Well, that went well . . ." Artha said, looking at Lance and Kitt angrily.

"Excellent!" Word smiled a venomous smile as he tapped his golden, clawed fingers delicately against a glass test tube filled with red liquid. "Father, my crew estimates that the Samurox will be back in your hands within a few hours." Word turned around slowly. "Very good, Moordryd. You may go." and immediately went back to admiring the contents of the test tube.

Like all the other competitors, Pyrrah was lined up at the race track, looking very determined. She leaned forward and grasped the steering handles tightly. "Today, I will win the race!" she told herself. Suddenly, Kitt came up beside her. "I'm sorry about last night," Kitt said. "We really want you there."
Pyrrah looked proudly at Kitt, undecided as to what to do or say. Unexpectedly, the gong sounded and the race began. Kitt's dragon sprinted effortlessly ahead, and Pyrrah felt flustered. Activating her red thruster gear, she managed to catch up with Kitt. But the triumph lasted for only a hurried moment. Kitt activated her own thruster gear, and shot far ahead again. Pyrrah looked all around her. "Kitt is not my only problem!" she muttered under her breath. Khatah's dragon Shock-Ra was weaving with fluid precision in and out of the messy tangles of other racers, Artha was guiding Beau with a skilled hand, Lance was having no trouble racing underneath the other larger dragons and far to her left, Moordryd and Cain were cheating for the ump-teenth time, their black energy whips being lashed with more vigour than usual. Far above her, she could hear the announcer booming out the details of the race over the confusing noise of the tumultuous race. "Looks like Phistus isn't going to make it! His dragon's tripped in this mad rush!" All the other dragons and riders thundered past, forming a tighter knot in front of her. On the verge of giving up, Pyrrah noticed that the formation of racers was too broad to push past the finish line! Deciding to use Phorjj's jumping abilities and her white aero gear, Pyrrah directed Phorjj to an upward incline on the track. Rushing forward with all they had, rider and dragon leapt powerfully into the air with abandon. Pyrrah activated her white aero gear and sailed high over the heads of the other racers, and through the finish line! Just as her dragon gracefully landed, Artha and Kitt came thundering into 2nd place, with Lance, Khatah and Sarjo running a close third.

That night, everyone was at the meeting. "Congratulations, Pyrrah! Your really showed your stuff." Kitt said admiringly. Pyrrah smiled back. "Thanks." Artha looked around. "Is everybody here?" Everyone nodded their heads in affirmation, and Artha began the conference. He had scarcely begun though, when Parm spoke up. "Artha, Lance isn't here!" "He's probably playing with Fracshun," Artha told him. "It's probably better if he isn't here." "Um, if you say so." Parm said worriedly . . .The council broke up at midnight, and Artha, Kitt and Parm walked back to Penn Stables to snatch a few hours of sleep before the next race. "Lance is gone!" Kitt shouted with concern as they walked into the stall. "Oh, dear." Parm muttered nervously. "Beau!" Artha yelled; the red and blue dragon woke up instantly. "Where's Lance?" Beau looked around and shook his head forcefully. "Stay here until I contact you!" Artha yelled to his friends. "Time to release the Dragon!" Artha jumped on his dragon's back, and placed the gold star amulet in the gauntlet. Before Beau had changed his color fully, they had charged out of the stable.

Hours later, Parm came running to Kitt who was pacing around incessantly. "I have intelligence from Artha!" he called. "What happened?" Kitt asked. "Lance has been taken over by the Samurox!" "Kit stared at him in astonishment. "The SAMUROX?" she echoed in disbelief. "But I thought we'd gotten rid of it!" "Leave it to Word and Moordryd to find a way to retrieve it!" Parm told her. "Well, where's Artha?" Kitt asked. "Beau's energy has been depleted, and they're both being held prisoner by Moordryd and Cain! It's HOPELESS!" Parm wailed. "Follow me," Kitt called. Mounting their dragons, Kitt and Parm rode out of Penn stables, and made as fast as they could for the other friendly crew leaders. When they heard the news, Phistus, Khatah and Stewardd rode out at once, to try to help free the Dragon Booster. Pyrrah, however, had another plan. Dashing as fast as Phorjj could go, she entered the imposing, glacial gates of Word's citadel. Rushing past the Dragon Eye guards, Pyrrah forced her way into Word's private inner lab. "What is your plan this time?!" she asked angrily. "You know," Word answered her calmly, "I could have you seized as a prisoner for breaking into my fortress!" Phorjj growled deeply, and the room vibrated eerily. "What is that?" Pyrrah demanded, pointing to a red test tube that lay in a foul-looking machine. "Why, it's a present. Just wait a moment while I wrap it for you." Word grinned maliciously. Pyrrah began to feel jumpy. She thought of turning and running back out, but decided against it. "I have to find out what that is," she told herself. "Tell me. How do you feel about the color, red?" he asked, and suddenly the scarlet liquid altered form, and hardened into "The Furox!" Pyrrah gasped. "But how?" Word chortled wickedly. "I have my ways," he answered.

Back at the scene of the crime, Moordryd and Cain were finding it difficult to take flight when the overwhelming charge of dragons suddenly appeared on the scene. "Cain! Do something!" Moordryd ordered frantically. Cain looked around wildly. "I don't know why I'm supposed to think of something everytime there's trouble!" he groaned. But there was no need for Cain to 'do something', since Captain Faier himself took them under arrest. Artha, Kitt and Parm were standing near Beau, feeling anxious about him, Lance and the situation. From far away, the bellowing and roaring of the Samurox could be heard. "If you'd only listened to me . . ." Parm began. "I know," Artha cut him off.

"I need that," Pyrrah said, magging the Furox out of Word's hands and letting it poise a few inches away from of Phorjj's head. "Of course you do," Word said quietly. Charging out of Word's stronghold, Pyrrah raced along half-empty streets and highways to join up with the other riders. "Pyrrah! Where have you been?" Kitt demanded. "Is your dragon alright yet?" Pyrrah asked hastily. "No . . .almost . .why?" "Do you know where Lance is?" Parm pointed in the direction of one of Mid City's main bridges. The Samurox version of Fracshun was still roaring with animation, and numerous dragons had already gathered below him. "I can stop him!" Pyrrah called back as she dashed away toward the bridge. "What are you doing?!" Kitt cried after her. Kitt swung onto her dragon and raced after Pyrrah. "What are you doing?" she asked again, but there was no answer. Speeding up, she overtook Pyrrah, and sent out a magburst in the direction of the Samurox bonemark. Somehow, it wasn't powerful enough, and Kitt ended up on the ground, with Wildfyr overturned.

Just as Pyrrah was a few paces away from the Samurox, she fully magged on the Furox. Instantly, her eyes turned a blank, glowing yellow, and spikes seemed to grow casually all over Phorjj. It lasted only for an instant, and the eyes returned somewhat to their normal hue. With the Furox's immense mag burst, the Samurox bonemark was dislodged, and Lance and Fracshun were restored to their normal selves. With a vicious roar, the Furox began to turn on Kitt, but was cut short by the Dragon of Legend's mag blast. Slowly, the bonemark was detached and was sent whirling away in the air, conclusively dropping far into the abysmal depths of Old City . . . .

-I'm sorry that this is the end of the story, but my mom woke me up. I tried hard to go back to sleep and finish the dream, (I usually do that, just to get the ending!) but I couldn't.

All that you see or seem is but a dream within a dream. - Edgar Allan Poe

Um, I'm not the admin, but you might want to try paragraph breaks if you want to impress the admin (LightningFlash). A new paragraph is required whenever someone different speaks. Also it seems that this story is a heavily summarised version of a longer and plot-heavy tale. It's generally better if you show and do not tell, ie. by adding descriptive phrasing and not having constant action. This read like an outline not an actual story. Perhaps it would have been better if you had simply used the beginning of it for a detailed 300-or-so-words?

Also, Pyrrah does not crave Kitt's admiration--from what I saw in 'Fanning the Flames', it would appear to almost be the opposite, nor is she a misunderstood heroine. You write her as naive and good-intentioned, where from what I know of her she's rather mercenary and cunning. The plot point of Artha's new gear wasn't even used, which made introducing it a bad idea. And while two racers tying for one position is not totally unbelievable, five tying for two positions is ridiculous.

The spelling isn't bad, and while I haven't seen the Samurox episodes the premise would seem quite interesting, but the lack of paragraph breaks burns my eyeballs and I'd much rather read an actual fic than an outline.

You'll probably get a response within a week. :)

Thanks for the comment, Sarah Frost. But, as I have already stated, this WAS based on a DREAM!!! I can't control a dream! And as for Pyrrah, perhaps since she IS my favorite character, my subconsciousness became a wee bit prejudiced. As for impressing the Administrator, I write stories my own peculiar way, and I like to be accepted for what I am. If I write stories in another way, I'll be hard pressed to maintain that style, and I don't think I can do that.

AS FOR THE GEAR NOT BEING USED, I'M SURE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN USED LATER IN MY DREAM IF IT HAD NOT BEEN CUT SHORT!

No, you can't control your dreams, and you're lucky to have such dreams. :) You can control what you write, though, and while I thank you for telling us about the interesting dream when you submit it as a fic I'll still respond to it as a fic.

As for your other comments, I'd like to believe I don't criticise based on individual style. I criticise on:

- Rules of English. These are not 'style', these are 'right or wrong'. Paragraph breaks are your friends. Really. They make stories a lot easier to follow, especially online which is viewed slightly differently from a book. (ee cummings is an exception who actually knows the rules and can explain why he breaks them.)
- Characterisation. Sometimes it's right and how the character would react in that situation, and sometimes it's wrong. Liking a character or disliking a character has nothing to do with writing them well or badly. My fanfiction is (here), so feel free to tell me if I have any characters written wrongly in my two DB fics.
- Structure. It's an old saying that "if there's a gun on the mantelpiece in Act One, it has to be fired by Act Three". In other words, if a plot device is introduced in a story, it has to be used in that story. I know your dream wasn't so obliging, but as a fic it's up to you and not your subconscious to remedy this flaw.

It's not your personal style I object to. Some people's writing has lots of description, and some has little. However, your story read like an outline, you lacked paragraph breaks, made Pyrrah OOC, and disobeyed a structural rule. These are mistakes not 'style'. Contrast "Short unfinished sentences. Emphasis. Individual style not following the rules." with "speling mystakes r mi stile!!one!" You can improve in the style you chose, and I suggested how.

Okay, I get what you mean. Thanks teacher, here's an apple for you. :D

I guess I'm a little burned out.

I understand, it's five am here. :)

Okay, sure, you're in. Work on what Sarah suggested though, please.

I'm going to give you Kitt.