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A Dying Oasis . I built this for the First Official Moccer Cup. I was put in the Average level. Category: Show that you can build well in an Arty way. Like the people in the Beginner category you can build anything, but, it has to stick to a limit of 6 Colours. I chose to build a slightly depressing desert vignette. I wrote up a short story to go along with it. . Link: http://www.mocpages.com/group.php/20567 The dirt crunched under Tim’s boots as he trudged across the rocky ground. The burning sun beat down on him as he pulled out a pair of binoculars, to look for signs of life. But there was nothing. Nothing as far as the eye could possibly see. The desert stretched on for miles as Tim stowed the binoculars back in his pack and began to walk again. Name: Tim Alman. Age: 35. Occupation: Pilot. After only a few hours of an unsuccessful flight, Tim’s plane crashed down for reasons unknown. Everybody died…but him. He tried to map out where he was, but it wasn’t on the map. He was stuck. No communication, not very much food or water, and no supplies. Plus, he was alone. What was a man like Tim Alman to do? Tim wiped the sweat from his brow with a ragged piece of cloth as he walked onward. There seemed to be no end. Everything looked the same, and soon Tim began to wonder if he was walking in circles. But he couldn’t tell… Seconds. Minutes. Hours. It seemed like nighttime would never come, like time was passing so slowly that it had suddenly stopped. Like the plane crash happened so quickly that time had broken, or stopped to take a rest. Tim couldn’t tell. He just wanted to get out of the wretched desert. Tim’s limbs ached as he limped across the barren, hot ground. How could he go much further? Would the desert ever come to a stop? Soon, Tim was crawling across the ground, his legs limp, waiting for more fuel. The dirt and rocks burned his hands, as if they had been in an oven for a few millenniums. He couldn’t go any more. He just couldn’t Tim’s face hit the ground as he collapsed. Everything was quiet, except for a sharp buzzing. “Please, just a little bit of water. A little bit of life. That’s all I need to survive. Please…” Tim pleaded with himself, with something magical inside of him that didn’t seem to ever be there. Slowly, Tim’s rose up, to get a last glance at the pitiful desert before he caught death. And then, he saw it. Off on the horizon, surrounded by gray rocks, sat something green. Life. An Oasis of life. Slowly, Tim rose from the ground and rubbed his eyes as if it was all a dream. There, in front of him, was an Oasis. Tim began to stride toward it, and soon broke into a full out run. The oasis was still far from Tim twenty minutes later, but he continued on. He felt as if it would disappear any second. Tim continued forward. It took more than a few hours, but there it was. Tim was crawling along the hot dirt again, but he had made it. His limbs burned as if they would explode as Tim stared at the palm tree in front of him. There, under a small palm tree, a little puddle sat. It wasn’t much water, but it was just enough to keep his strength going for one day longer. Just enough. Slowly, Tim rose from the ground, and limped toward the sparkling water. There it was, a puddle of life. He was so close…yet so far. Tim stumbled forward as he outstretched his arms to the water. His finger touched the clear water, when suddenly his foot caught on an unseen stone sitting in front of him, making him fall face first into the ground. Into the puddle of life. Tim’s shirt was immediately soaked as the water splashed out of it’s place, separating into small droplets. It all evaporated quickly from the heat, as it was spread apart and couldn’t defend itself on it’s own. Tim knelt up from the ground, and tried to squeeze water out of his quickly drying shirt. But it was no use. Only a few droplets came into his mouth, only a few. It was all gone. The oasis of life was gone. Tim’s entire body shook as a tear fell from his eye. Stuck. He felt stuck again. He couldn’t move. “No, I was so close! So close! Curse you, Fate! So close…so…close…” Tim fell face forward into the dry, rocky earth as the last of the water evaporated. Tim sat there, and didn’t get up. Days, months, years, and Tim didn’t get up from the ground to continue is journey. He sits there for eternity, as others receive the same fate. Tim’s flying helmet sits on his rotting head, as death takes its toll. Normal humans suffer too as Tim does, some of their stories less gruesome… …some more. Tim sits there, with death eternally hovering over him. A palm tree of a dying oasis hanging over him. The tree of death. That’s what we call it. It sucks out the life of it’s victim, after it lures them over with false truths. Death never fails. It always wins, no matter how much some try to resist it. That’s why we must be wary of the choices we make, so unlike Tim, we can live a longer life. Fourth-wall Commentary I’ve been watching too many Twilight Zones. That aside, this MOC introduced me to a few new techniques. I really hope you judges like it. Like I said at the beginning, I was only allowed to have a maximum of six colors. I chose: Dark Tan Dark Gray Brown Green White Black Well, I guess that's all! Thanks so much for looking! I hope you enjoyed it! -Netro


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