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message 1: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for March
It's baaaaaaaaaaack! :)
A new, fun, and incredibly awesome writing discussion that everyone can join! How awesome! So here is how it goes, I will give a writing prompt of the month. It can be a single word, a phrase, or even a picture. Then you, the writer, will proceed to write whatever comes to your head. It can be one sentence, a poem, a short story, a paragraph, whatever you want! Just have fun and be creative!

The writing prompt for the month of March is: Start a story that starts with "There were three of them"
or in honor of Spring, write something based on this picture:
Do both if you'd like. There are no limits!
Rebel Rider
"There were three of them." Robiel examined the tracks and scuffle marks in the freshly-tilled field. "Two werewolves, probably a pureblood and halfblood, judging by the size, and one werecat."
Tari shouldered her rifle. "We need a werewolf to hunt these rogues down. No way we can track fast enough to keep up with them." If they had a werewolf, or even a well-trained dog, they'd be able to ride their horses after the kidnappers at a decent clip. Without those, they'd be forced to go slowly, searching for tracks.
Robiel gazed at the moon. "You know I can't shift for at least another week. I'm not even halfblood." He knelt over the tracks and lifted a handful of dirt to his nostrils. "There's no blood. They didn't hurt the kids, just took them."
Tari sniffed the air, even though her senses were barely better than the average human. Nothing, other than fresh dirt and dew. "What do they want with the twins?"
Robiel stood and looked at the fortress that towered above the fields. "I don't know but we need to get them fast. They've got a werewolf prisoner in Refuge. I'll see if he can help us."
Tari's eyes narrowed. "That werewolf's an outcast. You think we can trust him?"
Robiel shrugged. "He's not from Zatari's or Hazal's pack. You know how petty the other packs are."
Tari looked at the tracks again. He could still be a biter.
Robiel headed toward the fortress of Refuge. "If we want to save those kids, we're going to have to trust him."
Most Honorable One
(Using the picture)
She looked up at the dripping branches as the twittering of birds started to fill the fresh air. She loved this time of year, when the trees bared their blossoms and life filled the air. Taking her morning walks was an escape for her, something that consumed her mind with wonderful, mindless thoughts of what she someday hoped to have. But she knew it wouldn’t come anytime soon. She still had seven more years to serve his lordship before she was free. Free of the dark world Lord Grothel consumed.
Closing her umbrella Aria sighs, locking what few wonderful thoughts she had away. Trudging through the mud, she makes her way back to the estate. This part was the worst part of her walks, having to return to her gloomy life that he controlled. She was no more than a puppet to him. He controlled her in every way and she hated it.
With the estate in sight she makes her way not towards the house as she should but towards the stables where she had hidden a small survival pack she had crafted. With nothing more than a few coins, a dagger, a blanket and some cheese and meat she snuck from the kitchens, she felt determined that she’d make it work. She knew she’d be hunted and killed if she was ever caught, but she was ready to risk it. She was ready to taste that freedom she so ardently longed for.
With cautious steps, she retrieves her pack from the pile of hay she had hidden it in and moves to quickly saddle a large horse. Lord Grothel would be furious to know she stole his horse. She manages a smile at the thought, as she fastens her pack to her along with her umbrella. She mounts the horse and nudges him towards the woods before sending him into a full speed gallop. In the distance she can hear a few shouts behind her but she doesn’t care, can’t worry about that now because in front of her lies on thing: freedom.
J. Leigh Bralick
There were three of them. In the end, it was always the same. Always the three.
The Plague, the Madness, and the Death.
We had watched the cycle of the years so long, marking the fulfillment of the signs and the revelations of the oracles, and now we could see their coming from afar. The old prophesied them. The young feared them. And those of us who stood at the threshold of our might…
We vowed to fight them.
(Okay, I kind of want to write this novel now...)
posted 1 year ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
Writing Prompt for August
A new, fun, and incredibly awesome writing discussion that everyone can join! How awesome! So here is how it goes, I will give a writing prompt of the month. It can be a single word, a phrase, or even a picture. Then you, the writer, will proceed to write whatever comes to your head. It can be one sentence, a poem, a short story, a paragraph, whatever you want! Just have fun and be creative!

This month's prompt: Write something that starts with: "It was less than a second, maybe half a second, but it changed everything." or
Or do both! Have fun! :)
Rebel Rider:
"Daddy, where did Mommy go?" Crys peered from Mommy and Daddy's room. Daddy hadn't slept there since Mommy got sick and went away.
Daddy looked away, like he did when he didn't know what to say. He made a strange noise.
Crys tiptoed toward him.
He made the noise again. Was Daddy crying?
Crys touched his hand. "Daddy, why are you crying?"
Daddy knelt and hugged Crys. "Mommy's not coming back."
Crys pulled back. "Why not?"
Daddy sobbed. "She died."
Most Honorable One:
It was less than a second, maybe half a second, but it changed everything. Though it was only a mere second, it felt as though our eyes had locked for decades. That our souls had connected on some cosmic level and that our destinies would be forever intertwined. At least, that's all until he looked away, merely scanning the room for other suitable girls to dance with. That mere second made this dance a horrible experience for me. It was as if he had taken my heart, filling it with false hope and dashing good looks before stealing it away, leaving me forever deflated... well, at least for the rest of the night that is.
Sally Singles:
"It was less than a second, maybe half a second, but it changed everything." when I read books written by Honor Raconteur.
Chase Sullivan:
"It was less than a second, maybe half a second, but it changed everything."
He takes my trash and dumps it. He's got that snaggletooth lingering out of his mouth while he tries to engage me in conversation. It's difficult to focus on anything other than the fact that he's got a yellow-stained tooth that is literally about to cut me. I want him to leave, now, like 10 minutes ago. He doesn't. He's nice and that's the goddamn problem. And, he's rubbed off on me. So, I just take a "break" from work while he blabs on about his girlfriend packing him this "gigantic" salad and how it's like she's trying to make him fat. Don't worry, he pats his stomach for me like I don't see he's pregnant. He throws his head back and cackles nice and loud. I'm possessed with laughter and tell him thanks and to have a good day. He nods and then mumbles how he has to get to the 5th floor soon or else.
I start typing again, stop, and realize he's become my muse.
posted 1 year ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

message 2: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments September's Writing Prompt wasn't saved. =/
Writing Prompt for October
A new, fun, and incredibly awesome writing discussion that everyone can join! How awesome! So here is how it goes, I will give a writing prompt of the month. It can be a single word, a phrase, or even a picture. Then you, the writer, will proceed to write whatever comes to your head. It can be one sentence, a poem, a short story, a paragraph, whatever you want! Just have fun and be creative!
The writing prompts for this month are: A shriek split the night... or "I like my friends alive - but thanks for asking!"
It IS the month of Halloween, so I figure some spooky writing prompts would be appropriate :)
Do both if you'd like. There are no limits!
Rebel Rider:
A shriek split the night air.
My eyes shot open. Only Qwalm shrieked like that. Using my real hand, I grabbed my pistol from where it lay beside my bed. I ran to his room.
Qwalm stood over a human boy. His tail swished back and forth and his feathers stood on end.
The boy lay on his back, petrified. Obviously, he'd never been cornered by a Torf.
"Any trouble?" I asked. From the look of things, Qwalm had things under control.
The boy gazed at me, his green eyes pleading. He looked like he weighted less than me, and that was saying something since I was a girl and not very big.
"I woke up and he was digging through my bags." Qwalm shifted from foot to foot. His claws clicked against the wooden floor.
"I'm hungry," the boy said to me. He probably didn't expect much mercy from the dark Torf towering over him.
Qwalm's feathers flattened. He stepped away from the boy. "Get up. I'm not going to kick you."
The boy scrambled to his feet and backed against the wall.
Qwalm went to his bag and pulled out a bit of dried root. "Here, kid." He tossed it to the boy, who caught it.
"Thanks." The boy's voice shook.
"I suggest you stop with the thieving," I said. "You got lucky. Some hunters would have hauled you in for stealing."
The boy nodded. He scrambled out the open window of Qwalm's room.
I've drawn both Crys, the narrator, and Qwalm.
Caitlin H:
It had finally happened. I had finally gotten in over my head. Bitten off more than I can chew. Took on too much. Whatever way the cookie crumbles, it all meant one thing- I was a dead man standing. I had always thought that actions speak louder than words, and in this world, they do. In a world where dead people come back to life and crave the grey matter between the ears, pretty words aren't valued as much. I had headed off to prove to my friend that I wasn't a wimp and I could take care of myself. But loe and behold! I was running away from a patrol of the soulless beasts when I ran smack dab into these ones. 'Out of the frying pan and into the fire.' I thought wryly to myself. Seeing myself completely surrounded and outnumbered I say, "Well, if you're expecting an easy fight, you're dead wrong! I'm going down kicking and bring some of you with me!" Drawing my guns I start firing. I was okay for a little while, but then, just my luck, my bullets ran out. After using my guns as projectile weapons (it didn't work in case you where wondering) I gave up. I gave up the ghost. I had just accepting my fate when I heard a fierce battle cry, or so the yeller likes to think. With that yell, a spark of hope lit in my heart. Perhaps, just perhaps, we would make it out of here. And when I see her shooting down zombies to get to my side, that spark starts to burn a little harder. When she finally kills all the zombies and is standing triumphant around their twice dead corpses she has never looked more beautiful. She says cheerfully and more than a little sarcastically, "I like my friends alive - but thanks for asking!" And that is the moment I know I'm in love.
Alysun Sanders
A shriek split the night air, waking my senses back to life as I returned from the land of dreams. Was it real? No. It couldn’t be. Just a nightmare. A terrible one, but a nightmare nonetheless. I pulled the covers off my body and stepped out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I made sure I was still where I remembered being. Yes, I was still in my bedroom. Nobody else was there. Just me. Just me.
I stood up and slipped on my robe, tying it around my waist as I made my way out of my bedroom and into the hallway that led to the kitchen. The light was off, so I flipped it on, expecting to see something menacing waiting for me. Nobody was there. Just me. Just me.
I shook my head. I was being so silly. It was a stupid nightmare. Nothing more than a vision inside my own head. But I could still feel his presence. Still feel his hands holding me down as he raised the serrated blade above me. Still feel the blood, warm and sticky, erupt from my chest and slide down, like lava down a mountain. But it was just a dream. Nobody was in the house. Just me. Just me.
I flipped the kitchen light off again and headed to the bathroom. I turned the sink on, allowing warm water to flow from the faucet. I cupped my still shaking hands and dipped them into the water, splashing some over my face to wake myself up. After drying my face with a washcloth, I turned the sink off and walked back to my bedroom. No one was there. Just me. Just me.
My bed was calling my name, begging me to return to its warmth and comfort. I took two shaky breaths, then walked slowly over to it. I removed my robe before sliding back under the sheets and closing my eyes. The house was empty. Nobody was there. Just me. Just me.
I was just on the verge of dreamland again when I heard the sound of my bedroom door turning. My eyes flew open as the door creaked slowly forward. A shadow stretched across my bedroom floor. No. I’d checked the house. It was empty. Nobody else was there except me. Just me. Just me.
Just me and him. The man from my dream. From my nightmare. It was too dark to make out his face, but the little light there was reflected in the serrated blade, making it glow eerily. The sound of his footsteps hitting the floor bounced around in my eardrums. He was approaching me, blade held in his hand, his arm hanging loosely by his side. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t find my voice. This couldn’t be happening. Nobody else was in the house. Just me. Just me.
He made his way to my bed, his knee pressing down on the soft covers. I pulled myself away from him, trying to keep myself out of his reach. He grabbed my leg and pulled me closer. I kicked, aiming for his mouth. I missed. He slammed my leg down on the bed, holding it there this time. Tears filled my eyes. He was coming for me. Just me. Just me.
Holding me down, he held the serrated blade up high, preparing to plunge it into my chest. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. I didn’t want to hear his voice. Didn’t want to know what it sounded like. I was about to die. Just like I had in my dream. My premonition. He slammed his fist down, plunging the blade into my chest. A shriek split the night air. My own shriek. Just me. Just me.
((Sorry if this isn't very good. Please tell me what I should work on/change!))
I was jolted awake by a bloodcurdling scream. I sit up in fear, my fingers fumbling for a weapon. They close gratefully around a knife handle, and I give a small sigh of relief. I slowly get out of bed, taking care to not step on the plentiful creaky floorboards. My heart is fluttering like a dying bird, stricken with fear. I ease my way out into the hallway, closing my door behind me.
I make my way down the stairs, looking around frantically. I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that someone was watching, but I didn't pay it much attention. Not that I should, since there was no one else here. At least, I hoped not. I light a candle in the kitchen, my eyes widening when I saw an open window. I carry the candle with me in one hand, the knife in the other.
When I reach the window, I close it swiftly. Even so, the breeze blew out my small flame. In pure darkness, I stumbled around the kitchen counter, feeling the smooth surface for a match. When my fingers ended up in a puddle of liquid, I jerked back. My heart was beating loudly now, and I was becoming paranoid. I took a deep breath. It's alright, you're alone, you're ok. I hope.
I hear a small click behind me, and my breath catches in my throat. I stand completely still, and I'm starting to panic. My knife, my only weapon, is slipping in my sweaty grip. I hear the click again, louder this time. It must be getting closer. Scared, I sprint up the stairs to the door of my bedroom. The door was open. I swallow nervously. The door was open. I knew I had closed it before I went downstairs.
The door was open.
I walk in, cautiously. Everything was just as I had left it, and nothing was out of order. The silence was deafening. I went over to my window, making sure it was closed securely. Satisfied, I turned back around to close and lock my door. Then I saw her.
She made her way toward me, mischievously grinning. There was a rope in her hands, tied in a slip-knot. A cold hand clasps over my mouth, then the rope slides silently over my head. The grip was tight, and I couldn't breathe. As soon as she unclasped her hand, I screamed.
She dragged me backwards across the bedroom floor, heading towards the window. There was no hope of escape, with all exits locked. The girl knelt down in front of me, the rope in her hands. It was rubbing my neck raw, creating a red, jagged line. The knot was sliding closer, making the loop smaller around my neck. Her laugh was the last thing I heard as I plunged into darkness.

message 3: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Stella T:
The curtains fluttered, back and forth, back and forth; a waltz with the wind. Every few minutes the wind would become ambitious and throw the deep purple fabric high in the air, showing off. She lay in her bed, an observer of this beautiful performance. Enjoying the cool breeze and praying that it would bring rain. If it rained he wouldn’t come. But the wind died down, abandoned its partner and the show. When the clouds moved she could see full Moon. Slowly the moonlight crept over her bed. Stalking her. Ready to pounce. He was taunting her, daring her to flee, knowing that she wouldn’t… couldn’t. She felt paralysed, stiff and cold. Then he touched her toe and she was gone.
She was spinning. She felt sick, wanted to throw up. She wasn’t motion sick. She was afraid, but that wasn’t it either. She was sickened by her mother who had made this agreement with him. Now she was whisked away regularly and made to debate with him. Then she stopped.
“Hello Moon”
“Celia, my love. How are you.”
“What do you want Moon?” she hissed
“That is no way to talk to your old friend,” he said, putting his arm around her.
She cringed. “Moon. Who, or what, do you want this time?”
“That girl. What’s her name? Katie, isn’t it? How would you feel about getting rid of her?”
“I like my friends alive, thanks for asking though.” She smiled at him mockingly. She was shaking inwardly but she wouldn’t show him she felt that way.
He began to pace back and forth, dramatically sighing for effect. As if he actually needed to think of a solution to their disagreement. He had known she wouldn’t want to give up Katie and now he was going to give her an alternative. And she would bet all her fame that it wouldn’t be a pleasant one. Moon was beautiful in his shell. Many people on the blue and green planet would gaze at him in awe. They relied on him for light at night and he relished the power. When he held meetings though he would come out of his shell and there was not much attractive about him then. He had wrinkled and yellowed skin, blue finger nails and freckles on the palms of his hand. He had his label on his jaw bone, “MOON 1432”. That was so he could be called by name when anyone spoke to him but at the same time They could easily find him on the system by punching in his number. He had a very low number, in fact it was so low that most assume he is one of the oldest of the kind. Celia’s label was on her shoulder blade, visible when she wore a halter neck top, “Celia 234π”. She was one of the few labeled “π”. It simply meant that she was a protecter on the blue and green planet its people called “earth”.
Suddenly Moon snapped his fingers. He was ready to make an agreement.
“Celia love. Did you know that you are very beautiful?” There was one beautiful thing about Moon. He had stunning eyes, they were bright and full - like his shell. They were dazzling and could trap you. Celia had been told not to look him in the eye when talking with him. It was too dangerous. But she was caught this time
“I have been told so,” she finally breathed.
Moon, satisfied that he had taken power over her, simply nodded. “Next time”
“Next time, what?” Celia asked, dread filling her and making her cold.
“Next time we will decide.”
The whirling started again and then Celia was back on her bed watching the waltz between the curtain and the wind. She felt empty. She had no idea what Moon had up his sleeve. She just knew that he had a new kind of power over her. Then it began to rain.
posted 1 year ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

message 4: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments November 2014
Writing Prompt for November
A new, fun, and incredibly awesome writing discussion that everyone can join! How awesome! So here is how it goes, I will give a writing prompt of the month. It can be a single word, a phrase, or even a picture. Then you, the writer, will proceed to write whatever comes to your head. It can be one sentence, a poem, a short story, a paragraph, whatever you want! Just have fun and be creative!
The writing prompt for this month is to continue this story
If you have an suggestions or ideas for future writing prompts, send them my way!
Enjoy! :)
Rebel Rider (edited)
"Have you still got the blindfold on?" His voice came from where he was tied up behind me.
"Promise me you won't take it off." His words were somewhere between a whimper and a sigh.
Like I could take it off if I wanted to. "I promise." Knowing he wanted me to keep the blindfold on made me even more desperate to get it off. Did he smell something? What was coming that he didn't want me to see? Vampires, one of our captors with some torture device? I desperately tried to shift to wolf form, but the moon was almost in the new phase. I could make myself a bit hairier, but shifting wouldn't work.
Behind me, bones grated. Thorn was shifting. Of course, being a pureblood, he could shift on pretty much any day of the month. What exactly was he doing?
He growled and thrashed.
One of our captors shouted, "What the-"
A breeze whooshed past me. Thorn. The man's words were cut off with a sickening crunch. Screams, shooting, and the sound of ripping clothing and flesh followed. What was going on? Could Thorn be killing all the guards?
Finally, silence descended, only to be broken by one moan.
Claws clicked on the floor. I felt the ropes tying my hands ripped off. "Put your hand on my shoulder and stay close to me. Don't take off the blindfold," Thorn growled.
I stood and grabbed a handful of his hackles. He began leading me toward the door.
My foot caught on a loose board.
I couldn't take it. I ripped off the blindfold and threw it to the floor.
Five bodies lay strewn around us, most with torn throats. Only one of our captors, a younger man, had his leg half-chewed off.
Thorn stared at me. "I told you to keep it on." Blood covered his face, but what worried me more was the blood dripping from his back right leg. He held it off the floor. He'd been shot.
"You're hurt!"
"It will heal. Let's get out of here."
I followed him out of the cabin.
He stopped to lick the hip wound.
I knelt by him. "Is it bad?"
"It missed the bone," he said. "You shouldn't have had to see that, what I did."
I glared at him. "I'm not a kid, and I'm a werewolf now."
Thorn growled. "That's exactly it. You're still scared of your wolf side. You don't need to see what we're capable of."
Tears entered my eyes. "I need to know."
Most Honorable One
Sorry it's taken me so long to get over here and read this.
Something that I really do love about your writing.. it's always action-packed with a good pace! Not to mention that you're always really creative. Like that short story you wrote for the writing contest.. the one with the girl fighting the guy.. I was absolutely in love with that one.. not to mention that it kinda reminded me of Blood Red Road by Moria Young.
Rebel Rider
Thanks! I'm glad you liked both stories!
Red Suitcase
Love this! very interesting and definitely want to read more of this story!
Caitlin H ~ I am only able to get on around once a day folks. Sorry if this messes anything up!
Sooo.... Yah.... Never got around to editing my story. I've had a lot on my plate with craft fairs coming up. XP But here's the link to my entry, but be warned. There will be swearing and a little more than implied slavery of the sexual kind. (I know theres a word for this, but I can't think of it. XP ) So, go give it a read! :)
It's interesting, though a bit depressing. I think the word people use is human trafficking.
Bleh...I wanted to do this one, but I ran out of time... *sighs*
posted 1 year ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

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