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message 1: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments 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 November is: Do experiments with sensory memory: record all sense images that remain from breakfast, study which senses engage you, escape you.
And because it is my birthday month and therefore awesome I am including a second prompt! :D
Write something based around this picture: http://images.art.com/images/products...
Enjoy!
Ultimate Emperor of the Universe started this discussion

Kat
Steps steps steps steps my legs hurt steps steps steps steps steps steps steps. Really? More steps? Sigh. Steps steps steps steps steps steps steps steps Oh! Wow. Panoramic view of the city. This is spectacular. Wish mom and dad were here. Take a picture. Turn around. Huge cathedral. Walk to the left. What's down here? Gasp! How darling! How quaint! Look at the colors. Oh! The starry starry niiiight!! I want to live here but we need to go. Pouting and walking down down down down down down down still...it's a magical night down down down down down down down down down down down down down. C'est la vie!
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Sam Violet (edited)
((It's my birthday month too! :D Awesome!))
Wait. It's all I can do right now. Wait for her to show up. Wait for her to appear and apologize with a radiant smile for being late. Wait for her to sit down in the chair opposite of me. Wait for her to order spaghetti bolognese, hold the cheddar and add some rosemary. That's what we always used to do. No, that's what we always do.
People walk by easily. Their footsteps clatter and make noises that blend into one another. Like when she plays the piano. Playing so gently that the notes spur each other on and bleed into one beautiful song.
The sky darkens with each passing minute. Blue. Pink. Orange. Purple. Blue. Black. Sunset's her favorite part of the day. We watch the sky on the roof together every Tuesday, it's our thing.
Waiting. It's all it seems like I can do. Just wait. Wait for her. Wait for her. Wait for her. Until the rhythm of time ticks in my head, and I'm counting the number of minutes it's been since I sat down in the dining table chair.
A man comes by, "Would you like to order, sir?"
"Not yet. It's rude to order when my partner has not arrived yet." The man gives me a slight frown before nodding politely and walking away. It's been 201 minutes and 35 seconds since I sat down. 36, 37, 38, 39.
"Milton?" My name. Someone called my name. But it's not her. It's female, but it's not her. "Oh my god, Milton what are you doing here? I've been looking all over for you!" Her sister. It's her sister. She looks me in the eyes with a sad frown.
I thought it was obvious, "I'm waiting for Lora. We had dinner reservations. This is her favorite restaurant, didn't you know that?" I ask her with a frown. Tears start streaming down Bell's face shamelessly, and she grabs my shoulders with a crazed look in her eyes. What is she doing?
"Lora's dead, Milton! She's dead! Remember the car crash? Remember her funeral?!" Bell keeps shaking my shoulders and she looks in my eyes like she's trying to find something. She's crazy.
"No she's not! Lora's not dead. You're going crazy." But something in my own voice tells me that I'm wrong. A waver of denial.
"Yes, she is, Milton. You have to accept it. For Lora." She chokes and breaks down crying. I frown again. My head hurts, like there are repressed memories there. I see Lora's body on the hospital bed, and the screech of her heart monitor screams in my mind. Make it stop. Make it stop.
I try to hold her hand, try to tell her to hang on. The doctors push me away and I hear them trying to resuscitate her. I hear them shouting at one another, orders, demands to keep her alive. Make it stop.
Make it stop.
But they're too late. They're always too late. Just like she's late here tonight. Lora's late for our dinner reservation.
"Milton, you have to accept the fact that she's dead." Bell suddenly grabs my hand and squeezes so hard that I can actually feel something.
"No, she's not dead. I'm waiting for her."
I'm waiting. Always waiting. I will always wait for her.
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Rebel Rider
The ashes of charred tables crunched under my feet. I moved on through the burnt out street until something bright on the ground caught my eye. I picked it up. It was an old painting. Holding it up to the burnt out street, I saw it portrayed the street as it was years ago, before the Bombing. Back when there was light other than the moon and people could eat without fear someone would kill them for their food. I stuffed the picture in my shirt. Maybe someday, I'd have kids who would like to see what it was like Before.
I just watched Revolution so as usual, I'm in a post-apcalyptic mood.
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Wanderer
The little cafe on the side street, bustling with activity, noise, noise, noise. The rustling of the breeze through the trees, the leaves scatter across the pavement. Swishing, rustling, swaying. The clanging of the church bells in the distance, sounding off the hour. Metal on metal. Grating, clanking, banging. The waiter pours the coffee, gushing, pouring, dripping. The table clothe is swept up along the edges, brushing against the iron seat across from me. I pour the cream, dripping, plopping, blending. Steam rises, heat against my skin. I stir the drink, spoon clanking against the cup, cup scuffing against the saucer, saucer shifting along the table. I smooth out the wrinkles, take a sip. Cold porcelain against my lips, hot drink running over my tongue, down my throat, burning, burning, coughing, choking. Compose myself, clear my throat, pat the napkin against my face, reddening. I scribble something down in my notebook, pen scraping against paper. Scritch, scritch, scritch. I pause, shiver in the breeze, picking up a soft delicacy. Sweetness, wafting up, warm and sticky between my fingers. I bite into it, chewy, sugary, melting in the mouth. I take another sip, soothing, warm, comforting. The heat races through my veins, electrifying. The lights are dim, flickering, candles burning, smoke drifting into the breeze. Dishes being cleared, clinking, clanking, crashing, shattering, shouting. Another sip, it’s cold, cold, cold. Tug my coat on tighter, write something else, scritch, scritch, scritch. Drop the money on the table, coins spinning, spinning, spinning. Push the chair back, scrapping against the stones. Fold my notebook into my breast pocket, clip the pen in place. Blow against my hands, breath misting. Walk down the street, footsteps, step, step, step. Cold wind blowing, blowing, biting. Cold, cold, bitter cold.
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Candi is on Holiday OR caught up in Life!!!!!-but creativity is just as important as education (please leave a message)
the starry night ahead of me, the trees swaying in the distance, the loud buzz of chatter, the faint swing of music, the dresses, the waiters,the food, the yellow brick road as i feel like i'm on my way to oz. its all surprising, exciting and dramatic, living away for so long has kept me out of it but this is what it felt like on my sixteenth birthday. it has taken me so long to get back to the place where it first started the place where i first fell in love. so deeply in love. but today as i walk down that same street every step i take the street becomes duller and duller until it just fade to grey while i sit at the same table as i did 14 years ago i'm just here alone to celebrate my 30th birthday
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message 2: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Captain Korina
December's Writing Prompt
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 December is to write something based around this picture: http://lenupetcomics.deviantart.com/a...

Kat
Bart didn't have many friends. In fact, to be quite honest, he only had the one. Which was why he had rushed out so quickly into the night, not even bothering to put his coat on. It was lucky the lantern had been lit and was waiting by the door when he sped through it, or he'd have had the light of the waning moon to help him search for Max.
Max had gone missing more than a month ago. The
Bleh. I'll finish it later. I feel like reading now :P

Rebel Rider (edited)
The howl came again, the sadness nearly driving me to tears.
"Jason!" I shouted. I held the lantern high. My shout echoed off the distant hills.
The mournful howl cut through the freezing air. I ran toward it, my lantern held high.
Something moved under a pine tree. I crawled under the heavy branches to where they'd made a shelter from the snow. Jason sat under the tree, barefoot.
I hung the lantern on a broken branch and sat next to Jason. "You can't just turn into a wolf and run around in the hills because you're upset," I told him. "Someone could shoot you."
Jason looked away from me. "Dad's never coming back for Christmas."
My throat tightened. So that was what this was about. I put my arm around him and pulled him to my chest. "I'm your big brother. I'll take care of you."
Jason started crying. I did my best not to cry. I had to be strong for him.
Don't ask how I ended up with werewolves popping into my head for this.
Wanderer
The wind whipped across the hills, making him pull his coat closer, shivering. The flame flickered and the glass of his lantern rattled, struggling to triumph. He turned his gaze to the south, the moon glowing in the night sky, shimmering against the new fallen snow. Raising the lantern high, he peered down at valley, the dark mountains looming to the north. Then there was the village in the distance, lights glowing warmly, inviting him back. He ignored them. He glanced back at the lone tree, pointing jaggedly towards the heavens. His breath misted before him, and his limbs were numb with the cold.
"Where are you?" He breathed, his whisper becoming lost on the howling wind.
posted 3 years ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )


message 3: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments January 2013 Writing Prompt:
We have two this month! Pick one or do both, or try to combine them!
http://hallowwanderer.deviantart.com/...
or
Write about something ugly — war, fear, hate, cruelty — but find the beauty (silver lining) in it.
Wanderer
Drips of crimson, flecks of snow melting on her face. There were no more tears left, and if there had been they would have frozen, little crystalline icicles hanging from her lashes. Her eyes were red rimmed.
Suddenly there was a rustling.
She turned.
Nothing there.
She continued down the stony path, shoes moving across the rough edges, monotonous. She wrapped both arms around herself, rubbing fiercely to bring back a warmth that had long ago left her. All was quiet and still.
And then.
There it was again.
Eyes on her.
Her eyes followed the path of shimmering white wings, purer than the falling snow. Petals drifted down with the white, blood against the grey background. She watched, mesmerized, as the dove disappeared up into the barren tree tops. She reached out a hand, catching a single petal in her palm. It was cold with snow, which turned into little sparkling dew drops. Like a stab in her hand, like a crying wound. Tears began to trickle down her face again, unbidden.
She tilted her hand, letting it fall to the ground.
Where it shattered.
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Kat
Sadness. She's a cold ghosty.
You should try to publish some of your writings Jen.

Wanderer (edited)
I didn't really think of her as a ghosty, but.... I must have been really depressed when I wrote this. xD
Thanks. I would like to, eventually. I've just got to finish something, possibly the book I'm writing now since it's the longest I've ever written.

Rebel Rider
The soldier stumbled down the road, leaving a few drops of blood in the snow as he went. He stumbled and fell near a rose bush. There was no one in the town. It had been evacuated because of the war.
The soldier climbed to his feet. Why do I keep trying? It wasn't like there was anyone to help him. The enemy had killed everyone else, only missing him because they thought he was already dead. It wouldn't be long until they were right.
Something moved on the other side of the rose bush. It was a girl, her hair the color of frozen blood.
The solder stumbled between the bushes, toward her. She darted around the edge of the bush like a frightened cardinal. A stone tripped the soldier and he fell again, the snow cushioning him. The world around him darkened. The girl must have been a figment of his imagination, something his dying mind conjured up.
Something warm touched him. He felt hands dragging him but his eyes stayed shut.
"Stay with me. I'll get you help," a voice, like that of a songbird, said.

Kat
Nice! And then what happened? *sits on edge of seat*

J. Leigh Bralick
He didn't feel it, when his foot raked the dog's side in the darkness. But he couldn't feel much, not with the ice stinging in the wounds that made lacework of his skin. The darkness was a blessing. It hid the sight of his feet, purple and swollen and broken. Hid the sight of his arms, and the pain that oozed like blood from his face. Hid the sight of the dog, cringing in the shadows, expecting to be kicked again.
It had been an accident. The darkness was in his eyes, not the sky above. Darkness...swirling grey half-shadows of uncertainty, forbidding the world. A gift from his master, one of many. Darkness.
He remembered, and wished he could not. The lash on his back, its whisper mocking him with a voice so sweet. The chains, calling a cold clamor in the emptiness of a cellar unfit for the dead. Hunger raging in his veins, thirst muddying his blood. He thought he'd escaped it all, but nothing had changed. A bitter smile touched his cracked and swollen lips. He'd left one master only to fall under the lash of one far more cruel.
The dog keened, and the wind howled, and yet everything felt like silence.
He stumbled, and cursed. The phantom sting of a remembered whip turned his blood to fire. Fury wrenched a strangled cry from his throat. He lashed his foot out, blind and numb. Felt nothing. But he heard the dog yelp, and whimper. He'd whimpered once too, and cringed, and cowered. He'd been weak like that.
Weak. He dropped to his knees. Ironic, how he'd never really understood the word. For a moment all he heard was the sting of ice against the broken street, the faint drum of his blood in his ears. Breath like sorrow hanging around him. And the dog.
He bent over his knees, breath escaping, heart shattering. The tears froze on his cheeks and in his matted beard. And in the darkness, he felt.
Warmth. Warm body, warm breath. The softness of fur. A tongue on his chin, willing away his sorrow.
Forgiveness.

Rebel Rider
Good job.

Captain Korina
Wow. This is amazing!!

Kat
Aww! Love the ending :)
posted 3 years ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )


message 4: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments February 2013:
This month we have two for your choosing pleasure!
1. In honor of it being Black History Month: https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphoto...
2. In honor of the holiday of luuuurv: This picture: http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=hprov... combined with this quote: "The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial one in any love story." ~ Emil Ludwig. Or separate the two.
Have fun! :)

Wanderer
"Don't go!" She pleaded, eyes widening in betrayal, tears dripping down her cheeks. "Please. Don't go..." The roar of the ocean almost drowned out her words, and her lip quivered as she feared he would not turn around and face her. She waited, holding her breath and counting away at the endless seconds before she sighed with relief. Aidan's shoulders slumped and he turned, moving gently back towards her.
"You know I have to..." Aidan cupped her chin. Freya blinked back her tears, shaking her head. He drove his sword into the ground, placing both hands on her waist. "I'll come back, Freya. You know that."
"You promise?" She whispered, not trusting herself to dare speak any louder, or submit herself to a wash of fresh tears.
"Yes." Aidan smiled briefly, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against hers. "Yes, I promise." Freya sniffled, trying to pull herself back together, for his sake if nothing else. But suddenly he jerked her forward, surprise on her tongue, but his lips cut off the words. His lips. He had never kissed her before, and it was such a shock, a beautifully delicious shock. Freya shut her eyes, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck, and holding him close. She refused to let him go. The gulls called out overhead and another chilly ocean breeze swept through, sweeping her skirts and hair around. She shivered, and he withdrew slowly.
"You'll come back?" She stared up into his eyes, a silly little smile worming its way onto her face. She could see the love glistening in his deep green eyes, along with a single tear that dripped down his cheek. Her stomach clenched at the sight, but he nodded, turning his gaze away for a moment. And then his hands moved up to her face, thumbs brushing away her own tears. Aidan placed one last kiss on her brow.
"Goodbye, Freya." His hands slid away from her, and she had to fight herself not to cling to him. His sword glinted in the early morning sunlight, as he moved down the beach. She wrapped both arms around herself, finally feeling the chill. Aidan moved along the edge of the surf, eyes on the horizon, never turning back. He promised her he would come back, he would return. But he never said he'd come back unharmed. Or alive.

Rebel Rider (edited)
It was the eyes that bothered Ento most about Storm. He wouldn't admit it out loud but the predatory look in them frightened him. Relax. She's perfectly civilized. It's not like she eats people. His instinct still fought with his learning, telling him that Storm was a predator and could be dangerous.
"Please pass the turkey." If it hadn't been for the growling accent, maybe Ento could have thought of her as human if he wasn't looking at her eyes.
Not wanting to make her mad, or upset his parents, Ento passed the turkey across the table to Storm. Storm wrenched a drumstick off the bird and took a bite off the end. Bone crunched. She wasn't chewing the meat off the bone like a human would. She was eating the drumstick like an Earth wolf, bone and all. No matter how hard Ento tried to fool himself into thinking of her as a human, he couldn't help seeing her huge teeth bite through a turkey bone like it was nothing but a french fry.
Ento's dad kicked him under the table. Ento shut his mouth, which he realized had been open while he watched Storm eat. The alien went back to eating, not realizing Ento had stared at her. Ento doubted he'd have much luck getting any sleep with her in the house.

I've heard some studies say that treating a person differently because of race or something they do is instinctive. (At least that's what a show that was studying babies found out.)
Leave it to me to make a quote about racism and such turn into something with aliens.
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message 5: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments April's Writing Prompt
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 prompt: Write about the dragon who rescued the princess from the knight.
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Rebel Rider
I peered over the edge of the ditch at the castle. That monster had the princess chained to the wall as if she was some sort of animal. I lowered my head, suppressing a growl.
The monster, sensing something was amiss, turned toward me. He took a few steps in my direction. Forget hiding. I leaped from the ditch and blew a jet of flame at the monster. He raised a huge scale to cover himself from the fire. I leaped forward, slamming into him and using my greater strength to bowl him over. He stabbed my shoulder with a huge metal claw. In anger, I blew flame at him. He let out a high-pitched squeal, like prey, and then was still.
I limped to where the princess cowered, her ebony scales reflecting in the moonlight. I approached her slowly. "Hold out your neck."
The little princess did as I told her. I grabbed the collar in my jaws and snapped through the flimsy steal, releasing her.
"Can you fly?"
The princess spread her wings in answer. She soared into the moonlit sky. I spread my own wings and followed after her. "Let's get you home."
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Kat
Aww!!! How sweet!!! :)
posted 1 month ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

Rebel Rider
Thanks! I decided to do a twist since there was no specification the princess had to be human.
posted 1 month ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

Kat
So true :D
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~Rose~
loved how the princess was a dragon too! neat take on the phrase :)
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Bear Warrior
I love it!
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Charles Frankhauser
She flew faster than me because her wings were lighter than mine. Darkness soon enveloped us and nothing could be seen below other than a blinking green light on a small island in the lake. She circled back and lifted my wing that was dragging from being singed by the blast of flame endured just moments before. She guided me into a cloud of orange mist and there it was in all its glory.
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Kat
Yay!!! Is this a continuation of the story that Reb wrote above?
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~Rose~
He finally had her- she was his. This time, he wouldn't loose her. He'd keep an eye on her, make sure she stayed with him...tears and all. The thought occurred to him to keep her up in the tower, far from any one who would attempt to get to her...no, because what was coming for her could easily reach a tower. The dungeon would be a better place to keep that creature away from her, but he couldn't lock her up there- he hoped she'd eventually grow to care for him, and see how he was saving her.
Why did she care for that creature, in the first place? There must be some spell on her...that had to be it. The monster had tricked her somehow, used its magic on her. No one so perfect could truly care for something like that, in their right mind. No, it was a spell, and it would weaken with time. Then she would thank him...she would no longer care for the monster and they'd be together, no chains or locks.
Then he heard it. Wings.
With a horrible crash, he heard the monster enter the fort as it easily broke through the stone wall. He had to get to her, before that creature- it couldn't take her away again...not again...
He watched in horror as she ran to it, begging it to save her. Pain shot through his heart- she was running from him, again...into the grasp of that creature. He had to stop her, to make her see.
"No! Please, my beautiful Princess, don't let him take you! He's tricked you, can't you see?" he pleaded to her, as he watched the dragon lift her to its back, to rest between its neatly tucked wings.
"I have to go with him. He won't hurt me- I love him. Please, don't come for me- I will only flee again." she said, as she held onto her dragon's neck.
The monster turned, and flew away with his precious Princess...again...
He yelled in rage, but couldn't attack, for risk of injuring his Princess. No, he would hunt them down. He would find them- her plea to leave her in that monster's care was only the spell talking...it couldn't have been her. He would rescue her again, as many times as it took. One day, she would be his...he had to hope, and he had to fight. He would stop that creature, no matter what, brother or not...
That monster wasn't his brother any more, and she was no longer its fiance...how could there be love in a creature like that? No, she was tricked, and he had to save her...make her see his brother for what he was- a monster. She'd see one day...see that he was right. And he'd prove that he was, indeed, the Knight of her dreams.
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Kat
Bravo! Love the twist you put on this story!
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~Rose~
thanks! :D was fun :)
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Rebel Rider
I like the twist too. Good job.
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~Rose~
thanks Reb :)
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Bear Warrior
Great job!!
posted 2 weeks ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

~Rose~
Thanks Bear Warrior! :D
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Rebel Rider
Come to think of it, this could make an interesting book.
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~Rose~
wow, thanks Reb! I'll for sure keep that in mind, maybe start working on a full story with it- that could be fun! It could be interesting, for sure ;)
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message 6: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt For April (edit title)
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!
April is National Poetry month!
Write something based on your favorite poem (tell us what it is!) or write a poem based on this picture: http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736...
Do both if you'd like. There are no limits!
posted 1 year ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Captain Korina
Captain Korina
May's Writing Prompt (edit title)
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 a scene that starts with "And that was the end of it."
Captain Korina started this discussion 1 month ago. ( edit | reply | permalink | delete | lock thread )
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Rebel Rider
Rebel Rider
No idea why I always do werewolves.
"And that was the end of it. No one ever challenged Zatari again, not after she took down a were almost twice her size." Thorn sniffed the air, his black nose contrasting is brown gray fur. "Now you know how a female got to be in charge of a pack over four hundred strong."
Fern nodded. "So, what does that mean for us?"
"It means that if you meet her, you will show as much respect as you can. Try to shift to whatever form she's in and submit."
Fern felt her tail droop. "Do you think she'll hurt me?"
Thorn snorted. "She's lighter on the rules than other alphas. She won't hurt you if you mess up but she'll be annoyed and that's not a good thing if you ever want to join her pack. It's me I'm worried about."
Fern's gaze darted to the twin scars on Thorn's head that marked him as an outcast. If werewolves were known for killing trespassing outcasts, he was in danger. "Will they hurt you?"
Thorn's ears twitched. "I don't know. Whatever happens, Fern, don't fight them, even if they attack me. They won't hurt you for being with me but if you get in a fight, you can't win."
Karin
Karin
btw I did use it to start a scene in my novel, but haven't come up with anything else.
Hope
Hope
And that was the end of it. Lisa dropped her hands from her ears, her face resolving from intense pain to relative peace.
"It's over?" She asked those around her uncertainly. It could start again, one never knew.
"I-i think so." Jack agreed, lowering his own hands slowly, muscles tense and ready to cover his ears again if needed.
The silence was booming now, though soon filled with nervous chatter. Lisa glanced around as everyone resumed work as normal. Now that it had finally been silenced they could all once again think.
"That. Was. Awful." Mieren said, "I can't believe...."
"I know." Lisa agreed.
"I hope it changes." Jack agreed. "Because I cannot deal with that."
Lisa felt a headache coming on at the mere thought of having to hear it again. "I just wish everything would change. I don't want to do this."
Mieren nodded, turning to the last member of their little group. Jillian, as usual, had returned right to work. She hated it as much as the rest of them, but always silently plodded along.
A low sigh escapes Lisa as she speaks, "So, what are we doing?" They had to get back to work before it started up again.
**********************************************************
-Somewhat loosely based on the life of Hope
Karin
Karin
So, what was it they don't want to hear again????
posted 1 year ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Captain Korina


message 7: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments June's Writing Prompt
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 the creation of a hero or a villain, or something based on this gif. http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mc8...
Captain Korina started this discussion 1 month ago (edited). ( edit | reply | permalink | delete | lock thread )
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Wanderer
Wanderer
Ooooooh, I love it! I will definitely have to do this this month......
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Abby (aka the Rainbow Unicorn)
Abby (aka the Rainbow Unicorn)
Ok here's mine, its really short but its what I thought immediately when I saw the pic, so...
"Daddy!" the Cori shouted as she ran full force into the big man in army fatigues. His eyes crinkled into a smile he picked up the little girl in her yellow dress and twirled her around. The high, childish giggles pitched themselves around the room, spinning and floating in joyful circles.
"You've gotten so big," he breathed, knowing it was repeated by parents so much it was almost cliché, but not caring. He crushed her in a hug, the room going blurry as moisture seeped out of the corners of his eyes. Cori hugged him back, looking up with innocent green eyes like the ivy that climbed up the stone wall in the summer-- penetrating and growing every year.
"You're coming back for good this time, aren't you?" she asked earnestly. He hesitated for a moment, then said,
"For a month." The smile faded on her face for a second, then sprung back in full force.
"Well, that's good enough!" she said. Their conversation slowly faded, the words garbled and then slowly fading into silence. The room wobbled for a second, then blurred as if dripping tears obscured it from view. As Cori opened her eyes to her bedroom, ten years later, she realized that was exactly what was happening. She tried to remember why she was crying, and it came rushing back like a train derailed and out of control. She was crying because that month hadn't been enough. Her dad had left again, but this time, he never came back.
Well that was depressing... Hope you liked it :P
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Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
Not my best, but meh, at least i'm participating! =P


He wasn't always the cruel madman that he was labeled as now. No, there was a time when he was much more than that, when he actually lived for more than wreaking havoc on innocent souls. There was a time when he had loved one of those innocent souls. A beautiful, sweet, innocent soul. Her hair was soft as silk, the color of warm honey. Her eyes reminded him of almonds whenever he thought about how deliciously perfect they were. Her lips as pink as a soft, delicate rose. But he loved her not only for her beauty, but for her charm and the way that she was. She was a kind, timid being, living only for others. He had lived in her way for so long, loving her silently as he accompanied her from day to day doings. In his mind, there could never be anyone else near as perfect as her for him. She was his and he knew it wouldn’t be long before she realized his love.
That was all until HE came. “A knight in shining armor,” she called him. Her “True heart’s desire,” she would say. She claimed that there wasn’t a soul more perfect for hers than her knights. His heart broke at her words and his blood boiled at the knight’s overall being. ‘What did this man possess that could be any greater than what I have to offer?’ He would think to himself. The knight was nothing but charm and looks. The knight couldn’t possibly care for the maiden as deeply as he did. But as time passed, matters only grew worse for him. The knight proclaimed his love for the maiden and vowed to marry her. That couldn’t happen… he wouldn’t LET that happen. A plan… he needed a plan. To kill the knight, to marry the maiden for himself. Men. He would rally men to help him kill the knight and pay them handsomely. Yes, the plan was forming, this would work, this had to work. She would be his and all would be as it should.
But it all turned out as he had never dreamed. The night of the attack, he had mistaken his love, draped in the knight’s heavy cloak, to be his nemesis. And so the dagger plunged into her heart. His world had spun and shattered, his heart forever broken. His men surrounding the knight’s quarters could find no trace of the knight. His life could never hold any meaning because of HIM. This was all HIS fault. The knight. He would find the knight. Kill him. No matter what or who got in his way, he would make this his life’s mission, to seek revenge for the innocent soul of his love. This was now and forever his goal, his life. To make the knight die a horrible, sick and twisted death, to make the knight feel that pain and anguish that was now coursing through him. He would kill anyone who tried to stop him, anyone who got in his way. It didn’t matter now. His love had lied to him, she had never truly loved him like she had loved her knight. And for that, the innocent would pay as well.
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Karin
Karin
Wow, two such very different takes on the same picture. This is a lot of fun. I think both were good ideas.
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Shiny
Shiny (edited)
I sat there, in the jail cell, my head in my hands. I had failed my mission. I didn't know what to do now. My thoughts slowly shifted over to a few hours before, when I had asked one of my friends for advice...
--------
"Hey," I said, when I opened the door to my home to welcome in my friend, Lucas. He smiled, and entered into my house without saying a word. I close the door and turn to him. He takes off his hat and coat, and sets them onto the couch beside him.
"Hello. I recently found out something about you," he says, running a hand through his hair, hoping to straighten it. I sit down beside him.
"What did you find out?" I ask, extremely curious.
Years ago, my parents had found me in a river, nearly dead. They took care of me until I could speak again. I didn't remember anything from before then, so I asked for people to find something about me, if anything.
He sighs, leaning back. "Well... I found out something I probably shouldn't have," he said, exasperation showing clearly in his voice.
"Then... why did you look into it?" I murmured, looking at him curiously.
"Because... it involves you." He turns to look at me, taking a deep breath.
"You see.. You aren't human. You have a power... like other people. You lived in a small village that consisted of these type of people, when one day you accidently activated your power, and ended up in the river. Your parents found you, and," he said, waving his hands at everything around us, "here we are."
I leaned back into the chair, closing my eyes. He sounded pretty serious. "So. How do I exactly control this.. 'power'?" I say, kind of curious now.
He glanced at me. "They said it'll only work when you really need it... Who knows when that'll be?"
Who knew indeed.
-----
Well. Now I really needed it. If I stayed in here any longer, the truth would be hidden from people and more would die. I closed my eyes hard.
One second, I was in the jail cell.
Next, I was standing right outside.
I began to walk out, my stride confident. The world needed to know about this. If the truth wasn't revealed, much worse things would be happening.
Suddenly, a loud bang rang out, and I jerked back, a sudden stab of pain in my chest. I slump down, coughing.
Over me stands someone I don't quite know, holding a gun to my head. I cough again, and they shoot.
The truth was never revealed. Not until years later, when my murder's true identity was revealed.
The one who shot me was Lucas.
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~ Pandora Rose ~
~ Pandora Rose ~
Ok, here is mine. It's not great, at all, but as others have said: at least I'm participating! :D
“We need you, Scott! You can't just turn your back on this!" the General yelled, loosing his temper. "You are the only one who can stop your future self from carrying out his plans. Your plans!”
“Why can't I just decide not to carry out the plans your future Scott has? Why do I have to leave my life here?”
“Because you're on the same track he was. You've already made the same decisions, and it's too late to just change what's already happened. You either have to leave now, or I'll have to kill you. Either way, you're not waking up tomorrow in this dimension.”
“What about Gloria? She'll be worried. I can't just-”
“If you stay, she will die tomorrow, by your hand. Scott, you have to trust me. We don't have time for this. Think of all the people that will die if you don't stop yourself!”
Scott looked out of the window, watching the innocent people passing by the parked truck. Random people, all bustling about their busy nights, headed for their futures, completely unaware of the man who would, given the chance, become the worst monster the world has ever seen.
“I can't become that person. That monster.” Scott said quietly, watching a little girl pick up her fallen doll.
“No, you can't.” the General said, his voice low and serious.
Scott looked the General in the eye, set his jaw, and made up his mind. “Let's go.”
Without another word, Scott followed the General out of the truck, through the crowded sidewalk, to a photo-booth. He looked at the General with a raised eyebrow, receiving a simple nod toward the seat.
Scott sat in the booth, holding tightly to the decision he'd made.
“This is a portal, Scott. It will take you to my dimension, and I'll meet you on the other side. Don't move, and remember to keep breathing.”
With his jaw set and his eyes looking ahead, Scott sat, and embraced the fear. As the light flashed, the young soldier disappeared, becoming an unknown hero in our world.
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Rebel Rider
Rebel Rider
At the shriek of a missile, I froze under a tree. Drone!
The missile slammed into our small home, blowing the walls out. A bit of rubble slammed into the tree next to me. I stood, unable to move as first the stones fell back to the ground, leaving only dust in the air.
I ran toward the crater that had been our house. "Mom! Dad!"
A pile of bloody fabric lay in front of me. I knelt. Mom. There wasn't much left of her, same as the house. I stumbled through the wreckage until I found Dad. His body was shredded but somehow, his rifle had survived. I picked up the rifle and looked at the sky.
The drone vanished to the west.
I headed after it. I would find the monsters responsible for this.
They would pay dearly.
______
Now, you must decide if this is the story of the making of a hero or the making of a villain.
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message 8: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments July's Writing Prompt 2014
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: http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736... and/or this: http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736...
Karin (edited)
The last man who tried to scale the wall was never seen or heard from again. I still don’t know if that means he succeeded or he failed, but there is only one way to find out. I am going to have to scale it. It isn’t something I am looking forward to, but whatever happens can’t be any worse than staying here, behind the wall, living a life that isn’t really living at all. Of course, I am a woman, not a man, but that hardly matters now.
I have been training in secret for months, where They can’t see me, and I have managed to gather what I need, a bit at a time. It has to be tonight, because there is not going to be a moon and Brynja has agreed to cut the power. She is the only one who knows, and she’d go with me if she could, but the cancer is eating away at her so much that she hopes she is caught and killed so she can die more quickly. She has drugged the dog’s food, too.
I leave as soon as the patrol has turned the corner, dressed in black with my face covered, pack on my back. I am silent as I pad through the woods to the wall. It’s high, at least twenty feet, but there are stones and niches where I can climb. I throw my rope up and feel the solid hold of the grip on top. Step by step I work my way up, gathering the rope with me as I go. I am nearly at the top when I hear the patrol coming round with their lights. Forcing my heart back down into my chest, I nearly leap to the top and lay flat on the stone surface…
(I ended up writing this stream of consciousness style so had to make a bunch of spelling edits after posting it here!)
Most Honorable One
Ahhh!! I love this Karin!! =D Seriously, you wrote this so well! =)
Karin (edited)
Thanks, I'm glad you liked it. I kept saying I was going to do it and not getting around to it, so today after I finally wrote 1300 words on my neglected novel outline, I got this out and made myself just write since I really liked the prompt.
Most Honorable One
I'm really glad that you did it and that I got to see your writing! =)
Rebel Rider
Rebel Rider
I gazed at the wall and the guards patrolling it. Only moonlight illuminated them. Were they keeping the aliens out or keeping us in? The last man who went over the wall never came back, meaning whatever was on the other side was either better, or the aliens ate him. I'd heard the aliens did that but I didn't quite believe it. I couldn't. My brother had to be alive but why hadn't he come back? It had been two weeks.
As usual, the guards had an obvious pattern. Sneaking past them would be so easy. If the aliens ate people, shouldn't they have eaten the lazy guards already?
I waited for the guards to march past then ran up the stairs.
I said a quick prayer that the guards didn't catch me. If I was quick, I could toss my bag of food and the rope over the wall and try to play innocent. I still looked like I was fifteen and the guards didn't take girls seriously anyway. I'd have a chance.
I tied my rope to the railing. It would be pretty obvious someone climbed over the wall but once I'd hit the ground, it wouldn't matter.
I tugged the rope then began my decent. My feet touched the ground, the aliens' ground. I crept away from the wall and into the trees only to pause. These were no fruit trees in orderly rows. They were giants, towering over me wherever they felt like putting their roots down. I shivered, the reality hitting me. This was no tame city, it was the wild and no-one would save me if something attacked.
I stumbled through the trees. Their branches tugged at my hair and scratched my arms but I had to keep going. Jason was out here.
Something moved behind me.
I spun.
A dark alien watched me. His canine teeth and claws glinted in the moonlight.
All my doubts about the aliens eating people evaporated. Maybe the pictures of them looked like anthropomorphic dogs but this was no dog. Everything about this alien screamed predator.
I'm dead.
The alien's lips turned upward in some parody of a smile. "You're from inside the wall, aren't you?" The words were rough but easily understandable.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
"I'll take you to the boy who came from inside the wall." The alien stepped past me, almost brushing against me. "Come with me."
So he wasn't going to eat me? "You know Jason?"
The alien's eyes narrowed. "Are you Bekka?"
"Y-yes." I had to look away from his predatory gaze.
"He's been begging to go back for you but we couldn't let him leave, not with a broken ankle." The alien smiled, exposing way more teeth than I wanted to see. "Now, he doesn't have to go back."
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message 9: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for September (edit title)
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 September is to write something that starts with a word that you pick from a dictionary at random or something lighthearted that ends with “Do you know who I am?”
Do both if you want. No limits. Just have fun! Step out of your comfort zone. :)
Captain Korina started this discussion 4 weeks ago (edited). ( edit | reply | permalink | delete | lock thread )
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Red Suitcase
Red Suitcase
My word is "Two." Picked randomly from the closest book at hand Planet of the Apes by Pierre Boulle (currently reading).
(poem)
Two sisters
two gifts
every birthday when we were little
it would be my birthday but she'd get some too
that's what happens when there's just two and one is the spoiled baby
Too bad for my parents, but luckily they didn't mind much
two closets to choose from
when you get older
a sister
is basically a back up car ride, a back up wardrobe,
but not a backup shoe store----her's were about 1.5 size up from mine own
two people that will never be separated
my mom is a twin
sometimes they have twin telepathy
my sister and I don't
we laugh just as hard
we belong together
two years between us
might as well be seconds too.
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Kat
Kat
Nice!
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Red Suitcase
Red Suitcase
:) thx
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Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
I love it! =)
posted 13 days ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Caitlin H ~ I am currently questioning my sanity-- 4 college classes, field hockey, and an attempt at a social life. Whyyyy
Caitlin H ~ I am currently questioning my sanity-- 4 college classes, field hockey, and an attempt at a social life. Whyyyy
My word was anyone (pulled from The House of Hades) (honestly, the sentence I pulled it from was awesome-- "Does anyone like his fate?" I was tempted to put that in there)
I could be anyone. I could be the girl you just pushed down the steps because you don't like that she's smarter than you. I could be the boy who, at the young age of twelve, is forced to face a fate that would make a grown man shake in fear. I could be the person who beat up a young defenseless girl but is saved by her kindness, forgiveness, and light. I could be the villain who is trying to remake the world so that the minority will be the majority and so he doesn't have to hide who he is. I could be anyone. Who will I be?

Fun fact!! Every senerio (don't know how to spell that) that I wrote about in here came from a book/manga/movie. If you want, you can try and name them! :)
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Red Suitcase
Red Suitcase
Interesting! I can't think of any of the sources.....do tell? :)
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Caitlin H ~ I am currently questioning my sanity-- 4 college classes, field hockey, and an attempt at a social life. Whyyyy
Caitlin H ~ I am currently questioning my sanity-- 4 college classes, field hockey, and an attempt at a social life. Whyyyy
1. Morganville Vampires series. (First book, like, 10th page to be exact. It's right at the beginning.)
2. The Percy Jackson series. (Again, the first book to be specific)
3. Fairy Tail. (A manga and a few arcs into the series and not to mention, OTP!!!!)
4. X-Men (movie to be specific, and I'm going from Magento's pov)
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Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
Awesome! I love each scenario! =)
posted 13 days ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Caitlin H ~ I am currently questioning my sanity-- 4 college classes, field hockey, and an attempt at a social life. Whyyyy
Caitlin H ~ I am currently questioning my sanity-- 4 college classes, field hockey, and an attempt at a social life. Whyyyy
Thanks!!! :)
posted 12 days ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Red Suitcase
Red Suitcase
interesting!
posted 7 days ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
Okay I gave this month a shot for the heck of it. I did that "Do you know who I am?" Prompt.

"Do you know who I am?" I hear his low voice ask me, but I can't move. I'm frozen with shock and drop the pile of blankets I had folded within my arms. "Do you remember me?" He looks at me intently, taking his uniformed hat off and taking a step closer. I struggle and search for words but my tongue remains tied, unable to be of any use. It's been years since we've had any news of his existence. Everyone thought that he was dead.
"I... but you are... but we heard... you can't be..." I shake my head as tears start to trickle down my cheeks. My brain starts to sort through the fuzzy haze, recognizing him, seeing him for the first time in years. "Real?" He asks, as he takes a few hesitant steps closer, reaching his hand to softly brush the tears off of my cheeks.
"I'm here," He says, looking deeply into my eyes. "I'm alive and I'm not going anywhere."
I search his deep blue eyes, seeing nothing but love and longing, knowing that he's not the illusion that I've been dreaming up these past few years. Even with hearing the news of his death, I couldn't help but dream him up. We had been inseparable before the war. People used to say that we were destined for each other, that our love was written in the stars. But even as he left, promising to marry me upon his return, his eyes held nothing but fear and doom. It was as though he had little faith in the outcome of his life. He sent me letters a few times a month over the course of two years. I was anxious, but I couldn't have been happier to know that he was alive. But then his letters started to thin out over the course of a few months until I received nothing at all. My heart fell into despair, unable to even fathom the thought of him perishing. Even when he was pronounced 'likely dead' within the town, I couldn't, wouldn't believe it.
It's been three years since I've received the news of his death and exactly six years since his departure. But the years haven't changed the sharp look in his deep blue eyes, or the way that his thin lips curve up in a tentative smile. If anything, his facial features are more pronounced, more masculine than I remember.
He seems to deflate a little as he searches my face, looking for something. His hand slowly falls to his side and he sighs, "I knew it," He says quietly, almost so low that I nearly miss it. "You've moved on, not that I blame you." His voice is quiet, sad even.
I feel my face fall as I look at him, stepping over the fallen blankets on the floor to put my hands on either side of his face. "I've waited six long years for you to come back. And for those six excruciating years, there hasn't been one day that I haven't dreamt of you." I say softly, smiling as my vision of him starts to blur. More tears surface and trickle down my cheeks as he smiles at me, touching his forehead to mine. "You have not been in my dreams," he starts, wiping my tear stained cheeks with his hands. "You have been the angel in my thoughts, getting me through each day."
His arms circle around me and I lean back a little to look at him happily. "You're really here. You're real," I breathe, laughing at how much joy I flowing through my veins. Never in a million years did I ever think that I could feel this happy as do in this moment. He laughs joyously, picking me up in his arms and spinning me a round in a few circles before setting me down, "I'm really real." He manages out before I lean up on the tips of my toes and kiss him, never wanting to let go of my love. And perhaps it's true... perhaps our destinies are written amongst the stars.
Caitlin H ~ I am currently questioning my sanity-- 4 college classes, field hockey, and an attempt at a social life. Whyyyy
THAT WAS THE CUTEST THING I THINK I HAVE EVER READ. A;LKAJDF;ALIDUF;ASLKJDF SOOOOO CUTEEE!!!!!! :D:D
Most Honorable One (edited)
Haha, thank ya very kindly! ^.^ I'm a sap at heart, I couldn't help it! =P
Red Suitcase
That was so beautiful! thanks for sharing---really brightened a very gloomy Monday afternoon.
Most Honorable One
Aw, thanks! I look forward to see what you guys come up with for next month's writing prompt! It's always so much fun to see what people come up with! =)
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message 10: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments 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!
Enjoy!
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.
http://rebel-rider.deviantart.com/art...
http://rebel-rider.deviantart.com/art...
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Caitlin H ~ I REALLY WANT BLOOD OF OLYMPUS!! WHY HAVENT I GOTTEN IT YET?!! Oh right, I'm broke. XP
Caitlin H ~ I REALLY WANT BLOOD OF OLYMPUS!! WHY HAVENT I GOTTEN IT YET?!! Oh right, I'm broke. XP
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 (edited)
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.
Zoe ~ Keep Dreaming!
((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 11: 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 12: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for December (edit title)
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 is: "Guess who came back?" and/or “I found it, on a branch, in the Christmas tree.”
If you have an suggestions or ideas for future writing prompts, send them my way!
Enjoy! :)
Rebel Rider
"Guess who came back?" Rothan growled. His tan fur stood on end, and his lips curled back in disgust.
Savora's ears perked. "Who?"
"That doctor. The little beast came back with his war hound."
Savora growled, deep in her chest. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"
Rothan glared at her. "Of course not. Dad's almost as crazy about the little invader as you are. I put him and that monster under guard."
Relief coursed through Savora. Doc was safe, for now, but why had he come back when he had the chance to escape?
posted 1 year ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )


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