Story/Poem Idea TPBM

[Kyra]

One of our members came up with a new brainstorming exercise similar to The Person Below Me. It goes like this:

Person: 1: Idea
Person 2:a poem or an openeing to a story (with that idea)
then they do an idea.

Example:

Person 1
Rose petals

Person 2
The rose petals swirled gently in the breeze, lifting in a shower of soft pink velvet that brushed my arms and legs as I proceeded solemnly across the garden, etc. (I'd like to say you can do one as long as you want, but please, nothing too long. Just a little brainstorming.)

New topic: Demons

Person 3 would then write about demons. And so on...

First topic: Cards.

[Kyra]

There was only one deck of cards in her house, and the package was dusty and unused. Mom didn't find this at all curious, but she wasn't typically a very curious person. I personally always found curious people more entertaining than non-curious people, because a curious person will let you show them or tell them anything and will ask you lots of questions about what you share with them. Because of this, a curious person often knows a lot more things than other, less curious people.
Mom countered with saying a curious person is also a lot more nosy than is fit for a person, especially a little girl. Somehow I made the connection she was talking about me, but I couldn't really argue. I am pretty dang nosy.
Nosy enough to even slip away from Hazel during our study time to check out the attic.
One deck of cards. The only deck in the entire house. Dusty and a little worn through.
But how, then, did Jessica know all those card games at the school grounds?
Wait. I picked up the package. It was about the right weight for a deck of cards, but just a little heavier than I guessed an average deck weighed. The edges of the deck were worn, and a little yellow. The yellow part made sense, especially since the card sleeve was sitting up here for years on end, but what about the worn bit?
It had been used, and often. Just not recently.
I turned to make my way downstairs, but took a rapid step backwards. Hazel was standing there, eyebrow raised. "I-I was..." I stammered, not sure how to explain myself to her. "U-Um... I was..."
"The cards," she said after a moment of thought.
"What?" I glanced down at the card sleeve, which I'd forgotten to set back down.
"The cards," she said again, gesturing to the sleeve.
Confused (and yes, rather curious), I picked up the sleeve, sliding the paper notch open and sliding the cards into my palm.
No cards. Only pebbles, cleverly estimated to about the right weight. Just maybe two or three too many.
I glanced up at Hazel, but she was gone, disappeared downstairs. Curiosity even more piqued, I set the pebbles into the empty card package and notched it before heading downstairs and back to studying.

Next topic: Trees

[Taliah]

Trees are not forever, but they are for a long time. When you paint your name on a blank wall, someone paints over it. When you write on a table, a janitor washes it off. But initials in a heart, carved into the bark of a peaceful old red gum... that lasts forever. A symbol of eternal love.

Next topic: picture

[Kyra]

The picture was faded out, the black ink lines worn so that it looked simply like stray pencil marks. The paper was yellow and crinkled, but I could still tell, despite all this, it was a picture of a girl. She was holding something I think was a flower to her face, inhaling deeply. Her eyes were closed, and the corners of her thin lips tipped upwards into a faint smile, one that radiated pure bliss.
In the corner, scratched hastily, were the words, "For my beloved Sorrel. I love you till the end of eternity. Jack Greene."
His wife.

Next topic: Row boats

[Taliah]

“…gently down the stream…” Tasha stroked her crying nephew, begging him to stop so she could get some sleep. “…merrily, merrily, merriri, mer-lee, life is but a dream.”

This wasn’t working. She was about three seconds away from throwing this kid against a wall. It was 3 o’clock in the morning and she had stuff to do tomorrow! Tasha may have been annoyed with the kid, but she was more angry with her Aunt and Uncle. They were meant to have been back, like, six hours ago! The only thing that stopped her wishing for their milk to sour was the thought that something could have happened to them. The thought was growing stronger every second.

Next topic: NINJAS (I have a slight obsession with ninjas at the moment.)

[Mel]

{Ninjas...now there's something I know nothing about...Excuse moi while I fail at this...}

Arashi Fuujin was balanced in the rafters of a quiet old attic, piercing eyes fixed on an unsuspecting man below him. He'd been following the man-Baiu Shika was his name-all day, waiting to catch him alone and unguarded. It was a tough thing to do, considering his extreme importance to the Hiashi Order. But Baiu Shika was one of the very few members to refuse to betray the Order, and if the Order were to lose him...well, they'd lose their secret weapon. Arashi's master would triumph, and all his loyal followers would be rewarded. Arashi was not here to convince this man to become a traitor. No, his chance to redeem himself had long ago past. It was time to end Baiu Shika, and Arashi would be the one to do it. He smiled wickedly, leering down at Shika, who shuffled around the room, unaware of Arashi's presence. Arashi leaped down from the rafters and snatched a knife from his belt. "Well hello, little Deer," he growled, giving Shika a toothy grin. "It seems you've stumbled into quite a predicament..." He leaned in closer, brushing the knife tauntingly along Shika's neck.

Next topic: Clocks

[Kyra]

The clock store was exactly what one would expect of a clock store. It was cluttered, filled with the constant tick-tick-ticking of the various clocks on sale, and the manager was, of course, very timely.
Also not surprising was the fact that no one applied to work for the clock store. The store got little business, so the pay was not particularly good, and the only reason that no one bought the store from the tired old man running it was that it was too termite-ridden to be of use to anyone but the old man behind the counter.
There was only one frequent customer to the store, and she was an oddity with or without the run-down shop. Every day, a blonde girl of maybe just under fifteen would wander into the store, browse its tired, creaking wooden shelves, and make a single purchase. Sometimes it was a shiny new copper desk clock, sometimes an old pocket watch with a rusting silver lid. The man only spoke two lines to her the entire day, the first being, "Would you like this wrapped?"
Every single day, the only word the girl would say was, "Yes."
Then the man, having wrapped the clock, would then smile at her and deliver his final line. "Have a nice day, ma'am."
And then the two would drift apart, like two solitary rose petals drifting in a breeze, sometimes coming close together to witness the simplicity but beauty of the other before floating away again, sucked back into a cyclone of lost summer days.

Next topic: Diamonds

[Mel]

{Dude, that was so cool. ;) }

I touched my cheek, tentatively. Sure enough, I was greeted with a stone-like hardness, as white as ivory. My blood-red eyes flickered to the sun beaming through the trees. I could feel it hitting my flawless skin, feel the glimmering sparkles that radiated from my body, like twinkling stars, tiny diamonds. Such a sight might have been beautiful to a common passing human, and true, my new sharp vision made my shimmering skin even more vivid and bright. But that was all I was. A frozen, indestructible diamond, cursed to walk this miserable Earth for all eternity. And all because of him. All because of a monster who decided to take a bite...

Next topic: Shadows

[Kyra]

(Amazing, Mel!!!)

The twisted shadows flickered through the trees at an alarming speed. Dancing in front of the fire, they taunted its flames to reach out and touch them, only to leap back hissing when the fire could muster enough courage to leap out at one. The boy witnessing the sight could only describe the scene in that way; as if both the shadows and the fire guarding them were alive. Perhaps they were. Perhaps the fire kept the dark shadows at bay, kept them from leaping out and quenching the last remaining source of light other than the stars and moon the midnight kept slaves, kept them from extinguishing the beacon of hope to all other lonely, wandering people and creatures in the forest that night...

Next topic: Jeans.

[Jocelyn]

{@Mel: Have you read Reckless?}

[Mel]

{No... Why?}

[Ivy]

{This looks fun, mine if I join in?}

She reached for her favorite pair of jeans and tugged them up. They we're hard to get over her thighs, and had worn holes in the knees. They hugged her hips a little too tight and rose a bit at the ankles. The pockets had lost all their studs and the zipper always got stuck, but no matter how much she grew or how faded they got. The familiar softness of the denim and the dirty lint-filled pockets we're always there to remind her of home.

Next Topic: Snow

[Jocelyn]

{@Mel: Because what you just wrote so reminded me of it. It was pretty incredible, how perfectly you captured the premises of the book if you've never even read it.}

[Jocelyn]

She pressed her hand against the cool glass of the window. Her eyes searched out the individual flakes in the dark abyss of night. A gust of wind swept through, whisking the flakes somewhere else. Another place, another time. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she pressed her face against the chilled pane. She was a prisoner in this old, forgotten place, with only the mocking freedom of snow to keep her company...

NT: Fire

[Mel]

Ducky wrote: "{@Mel: Because what you just wrote so reminded me of it. It was pretty incredible, how perfectly you captured the premises of the book if you've never even read it.}"

{Actually, I kinda borrowed the idea behind that snippet from Twilight... XD Is Reckless about vampires?}

[Jocelyn]

{No, but it's about Goyl, and when you are clawed by them, you become one of them, your skin turning to stone, your eyes changing color, forgetting who you once were.}

[Mel]

{:D MEL WANTS TO READ THIS NOW!!}

[Jocelyn]

{Reckless by Cornelia Funke}

[Maysoon]

Ducky wrote: "She pressed her hand against the cool glass of the window. Her eyes searched out the individual flakes in the dark abyss of night. A gust of wind swept through, whisking the flakes somewhere else. ..."

The flames licked away at the now ember wood- all the shades of red and orange almost enchanting. The feel of the heat felt so good, better than the freezing air that bit at my skin. Unconsciously, I stepped closer to the fire, to the wamrth, to the heat...
"Rose... What do you think your doing?" Holden called out in a steady but frightened voice. I ignored him. He couldn't save me this time. I had been through too much to be saved now. He could do nothing. No one could stop me from walking into the fire.
(Sorry it sucks! I didn't know what else to write for 'Fire')

Next Topic: Royal Ball

[Mel]

Ducky wrote: "{Reckless by Cornelia Funke}"

{CORNELIA FUNKE?!!!!! HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS?!!!! Holy muffins, I need it.}

[Taliah]

Inside the castle is a room, a most magnificent room filled with beauty and precious artefacts. Inside that room is a box. The box is locked a thousand times, but if you were to open it you would find a perfectly spherical clear object. This object holds the will of the gods, and can show us the future.

Next Topic: Ring

[Mel]

{You know how hard it is to NOT write about The Lord of the Rings right now?!!! Very hard. XD }

It felt heavy at times, wrapped around my finger with an iron grip that would never let go. It was but a simple metal band, a hypnotic spiral carved into the center. And yet, it was a part of me now. Before the days of the ring, I remember my eyes being a light, carefree blue. At least, I think that's what they were. Remembering becomes harder every day. Now my eyes are cold and emotionless, black as the deadly shadows that curl around my throat when I reach for the ring, try to pry it off with trembling hands. The ring claws at my heart, but I am bound to it. I cannot live without it. Everyone I once knew is dead, but I live on, and will continue to, until I find a way to escape this eternal prison.

Next Topic: Glass

[Maysoon]

I looked around the room. Glass, glass, and glass everywhere I looked. Shattered glass and glass you couldn't see theough well. At this point I started shaking, panicking even.
It was an exact replica of the dream I had the night before... But something felt different. And then I started sprinting, running so fast the wind whooshed through my hair. The invisable spirit tackled me to the floor, the flecks of shattered glass peircing through my sensitive skin, the pain stinging and excrutiating.
Next Topic: Sunny summer day

[Mel]

I remembered that summer day as clear as its perfect blue skies had been. Sitting on a worn wooden picnic table and hunched over a book, I'd been happily enjoying my newfound secluded spot away from the rest of the park. A willow loomed over head, shading me from the beaming sun. I was about to turn the page of my book, when a drip of black liquid fell from somewhere above me, blotting out the word 'Dracula'. My frown of annoyance quickly turned into a gape of surprize when I looked up to find a boy perched in the branches of the tree above me. He looked about 17, with tousselled brown hair and mischievous green eyes. "What in the-?!"
"Shh!" He cut me off, giving me a lopsided grin. "Would you mind getting that for me, dearest?" He nodded toward a thin paintbrush tipped with ink, that must have dripped on my book and clattered to the table. Eyes flickering between the brush and the boy, I wordlessly handed it up to him. He mumbled a 'thank-you', and seconds later become lost in the sketchbook in his lap, stroking the brush along its white pages.
I cleared my throat, and he finally acknowledged me with a roll of his eyes. "What, are you going to make me move now?"
"What? Oh, um...no. You can stay..." He gave me an appreciative nod and prepared to go back to painting. "Wait." He paused. "May I ask...what you're painting?"
He chuckled. "Well, I started out painting the tree, but that got boring pretty quickly... So now I'm drawing you!"
"Oh... Thanks?"
"You're welcome. Now please, don't mind me. Just read your book, human."
I started to turn back around, when I registered what he'd said. "Human?" I questioned. But when I whipped around, he was gone, nothing left behind but a sheet of paper depicting a drawing of me, staring into space with drippy ink eyes.

Next Topic: Mask

[Jocelyn]

{@Mel on topic of Rings: You still wrote about LOTR, in a way. XD}

[Mel]

{Yeeeeaaaah, I guess I did. Whoops... XD }

[Kyra]

The mask hung delicately on the rack. It was a thin, ornate artwork, a small stretch of fabric that would conceal the eyes, the nose, and the cheekbones of the wearer. It was red, blood red, and the only decoration on it was a small trail of ruby sequins dotting the left side of he nose, spilling out like a river over the mask's cheek.
I reached out to touch it. Something cold and sharp pressed into my shoulder, drawing blood. I screamed, and as I fell, the blood splattered the mask, though it was so dark the blood didn't stain it at all.
And then the world went dark...

Next topic: Handkerchief

[Taliah]

"I am Ker, chief of hands! Bow down before me!"

"Excuse me, sir-"

"Silence, fool! This is my corrination, the proudest moment of my - "

"But sir-"

"WHAT?"

"You have a booger."

Okay, no idea what that was. Next topic: heat seeking missile.

[Kyra]

LOL!!! Love it!!! XD

The genral's eyes were dark and weary, his beard graying, his shoulders sagging. He looked, for the first time, old. Old, and tired. "Sir," the man repeated. "Should we launch it?"
The general turned his gaze on the man, but the man did not feel like the general was looking at him. He felt like he was looking beyond him, right through his skin into the horizon. "Sir?" he prompted.
The general turned his gaze back to the monitors. The men on that ship were young men, probably forced into enlisting. Hey didn't know what they were doing. They had no hope of winning. They were probably terrified.
The general said, in a voice like a quiet hush of wind, "Send it."

Next topic: Zebras

[Angie]

The old zebra picture had been clipped from a nature magazine. She had seen the magazine the morning of THAT day. It was the day she'd heard the news: her best friend was dead. Killed by her abusive mother. Ali had suspected what was happening... She'd seen the signs... And yet, she'd done NOTHING. And it was too late now. When she was little, Ali's teacher had told her that zebras each had a unique pattern. No two were the same.
Their stripes gave them identity. And so, as she grieved, she took a razor and drew stripes on her arms. Her legs. Her stomach. Maybe they would help her find the identity that she had lost when Lena died. Because then everyone would know her for the coward -the monster- that she really was.

[Angie]

Oops. Forgot to put a new topic.

New topic: moldy cheese