This week's story subject is up to me, so I thought it would be interesting to use a saying as the basis for the topic. As the title says, Rome wasn't built in a day; neither will your subject. This time, the assignment is to write a history about your own civilization. It can be any kind of civilization, at any stages of development. Maybe you want to make a tribe of puppies that grows into a warmongering race of space pirates. Go nuts, get creative, and create your own society's story.

As a bonus, if you're an Institution student, this is a required writing.


To save room, I encourage you to use spoilers often when posting your work. -Xero

...A must? Dang...Well, I'll manage.

That's a really interesting topic : o
I'll see if I can come up with something.

[spoiler=]"...So..." I cringed hearing my five year old say that word. By now I knew how he used it, and I really didn't want to cave and tell him how he came into existence. 'Well ya see Joey, I came home from work after a long day, and when I opened the door I saw a trail of roses leading to the bedroom. Your mother's and I's song was playing as loud as it could behind the door, and when I swung it open, there she was, laying flat on her back and wearing nothing but a-' That was something he never needed to hear, and never would. Which meant I needed to think fast. "If babies come from storks, where to storks come from?"

"Well, ya see Joey," I smiled, bending down to one knee as I rustled his hair, "Storks come from as island waaaay up north where-"

"Are they with the babies?"

...This wasn't going to be fun.

"Of course!" I exclaimed, shooting my arms in the air which caused my child to clap, "They take care of the babies while they're still eggs. They grow on trees ya know, special trees!"

"Wow! What do they do when they aren't doing that? Do they have games to play? Is there a king? How do they know who's mommy and daddy the babies are?"

Wonderful. Now I've got to wing a society.

"Well, Joey," I attempted to begin, desperately trying to think quick, "They've got a president like us, President...uhh...Stor...Stor- President Storkenshier. He beat ...Storkster in a tight election last year. He's a lot like Santa. He's got a fluffy white beard, bright red feathers and-"

"Santa has red feathers!?"

My palm slowly came to my face. "No, he just wears red clothes. Stork... which one did I say the president was?"

"Storkenshier!"

"Storkenshier's feathers actually are red. Anyway though, he has a massive list of good men and women, and men and men, and women and women, which he checks twice to make sure good babies go to good people. He does most his work in his white tree-house with his wife. When he isn't doing that, he usually plays with the other storks. Tag, hide and go seek, that kinda stuff. They've also got a few soccer teams, and even a tournament to see which is the best!"

"Really!"

"You bet!"

"Who won?"

And then I paused... "...The...Eggsitters?" Joey's eyes went wide. Oh good, he took it! "Yeah, the Eggsitters won the last one, their team captain, Birdbill even scored eleven goals! Everyone was so happy!"

"Eleven!? That's awesome! The other team must've stinked!"

"Hey," My voice suddenly became firm, "What'd I say about that word?"

"Don't say it..." He murmured back.

"That's right," My smile came back as I tried to change the topic. "So, how was school today?"

"Good! How does President Storkenshier know who the babies go to?"

Dang it.

"He...he uhh...well...damn." My eyes popped open. "Don't say that to Mom!"

"Like shit bitch and fuck?"

A heavy sigh passed though me as I buried my face in my hand. "Yes. Exactly like those. In fact, don't say them to anyone. Ever."

"Okay! But what about the babies?"

Still on that, huh? At least I had enough time to think something up. "Well, Storkensher-"

"Storkenshier?"

"Huh? Yeah, Storkenshier has pidgins that tell him what's going on in the world. They gather news from all kinds of birds to keep tabs on everyone, but when two people want a baby, they write a letter to Storkenshier and have to find a pidgin to fly it to him. Then he finds the right baby for them."

"Why's Mommy's tummy getting big then?"

And now things were getting tricky... well, trickier. His mother was eight months along. "Well...she's eating more so the stork can find her."

"...So...if storks look for people with big tummies, then how come none of them found Aunt Izzy? She's huge!"

"Bedtime!"[/spoiler]

Oh my God Crankuba!! That's awesome!! It had me laughing to the end! Haha!
If I do this, could it sort of be in like fairy-tale/poem style?

Great! I'll get working on it