Friday, October 31, 2014

Pre-NaNo Prompts!!

Hello all!
Yes, we're still here! ^_^
For this year's pre-NaNoWriMo prompts, Kianah decided to suggest something a little different: namely, placing our characters into everyday situations and seeing how they would react. Since several members of our little group are working in more historical (or historically-inspired) settings, the modern trappings have helped us to get to know our characters a little better, no matter where they wander.
Her ideas include:
  • How would your character react to walking into a glass door?
  • How do they respond to having their name misspelled on a Starbucks coffee cup?
  • How would they react to finding fanfic of themselves?
  • Would they try an online dating site? What might their profile look like if they did?
  • What would their Facebook page look like?
  • Tell the story of any nicknames they've had, how they got them, and how they react to them.
  • If they went to a masquerade ball, or a Halloween party, what would they wear?
  • Their first laptop or cell-phone experience?
  • Pick two characters at random. Have them navigate their way out of a maze. (If you have NaNo buddies you're working with, you could also borrow a character from a friend's story and see how they would fare with one of your characters!)

In prep for my ongoing story, I've decided to try these scenarios with a couple of my characters; the results are below.

Plate-glass door:
The loud thump and the creak of the door on its hinges as it rebounded echoed through the restaurant, momentarily muting the sounds of conversations as virtually every head turned toward Johnathan, hunched over in bewilderment as much as pain. Rubbing his nose and wincing as he began to search for his glasses, he barely noticed the murmurs that grew to fill the silence; a waitress eventually made her way from the bar over to check on the man in the doorway, now searching the floor around the entrance for his pince-nez. Recognizing Johnathan as a frequent customer and wanting to spare him further embarrassment, she calmly redirected the prospective diners away from the preoccupied man, gesturing for the maitre d' to take them around and seat them.

As she turned back to assist the man who had unexpectedly slammed into the door, she realised that he was no longer alone. A second man held out the glasses to the first, who accepted them gratefully, and with a faint blush. Sliding the glasses back onto his nose, Johnathan gasped as he took a closer look at the dark-haired stranger, his blush deepening as his lips moved silently. Moving with surprising grace, the other man helped Johnathan to his feet, giving a radiant smile to the waitress as they swept past, holding open the plate-glass door and escorting him out. Even as she turned back to her customers, she paused for a moment, shaking her head: how odd, she thought; Johnathan had been alone when he came to the restaurant. He was -always- alone, in fact; she'd never seen him bring a date to Sakura at all. And yet here was a stranger, treating him like an old friend. In fact, she hadn't even seen the stranger come in at all...

Starbucks:
 
“There really does seem to be one on every corner,” sighed Johnathan as he and Raziel rounded the block, strolling past the coffee shop sandwiched between the organic market and the trendy feline wig boutique. Raziel smiled, tugging a little on the other man's arm; “Why don't we have a little coffee? It's been so long since we've been able to talk like this...” Unable to resist the other man's charm, Johnathan reluctantly let himself be led through the doors of the cafe, past the tile reliefs and pseudo-inspirational sayings plastered amidst advertisements, past the stainless-steel countertop where Raziel nudged Johnathan into line.

They waited for several minutes, murmuring quietly as Raziel pointed out coffee mugs and pumpkin themed trinkets , trying to distract his increasingly fidgity companion. As they reached the register, the younger man set his hands on the counter, craning to see the board behind the barista. The barista in turn stared at him over her horn-rimmed glasses, raising a manicured eyebrow as she tutted expectantly. At length he pointed at the board, frowning at the stylised lettering; " a Mocha Valencia, please," he muttered. "Whip?", the barista responded, her voice utterly at odds with her bored expression. "Uh, no, thank you", he replied; " Soy? Almond? Skim?", she pressed. Johnathan shook his head, acutely aware of the other customers' attention.

Raziel placed a calming hand on the other man's shoulder and purred at the barista: "Make that two of those". Lighting up, she hurriedly nodded and pulled two paper cups from the stack, Sharpie in hand. "What name should i put on them?", she asked; " Johnathan, with an 'h'...", the younger man offered. She scribbled on the cups and set them down nearby, gesturing for them to wait with the throng at the end of the counter. Sounds of steam and pressure brewing emanated from the other side of the bar, punctuated with the rattle of a blender as the drinks came out rapidfire from the far side of the counter. 
 
Curled in Raziel's coat, Johnathan barely noticed the sound of his name until the other man began to move slowly toward the counter to retrieve their drinks; slipping cupholders onto both drinks, they glanced around for a place to sit, but none were to be found. Spying an empty umbrella outside, they made a beeline for the presumably well-shielded table and sat down, chairs scraping as they pulled them closer together. 
 
The gusts of autumn wind tugged at their clothing and the umbrella, though, and an inside table grew more welcome by the minute; as soon as one opened, they scurried back inside, settling into the plush chairs as they finally prepared to take a sip. A soft chuckle from Raziel stopped Johnathan in mid-sip; “Wha-?” he gurgled, trying to swallow the scalding beverage without much success. The other man pointed at the cup and its Sharpied scrawl across the top; “I think they misspelled your name, John.” With a sigh, he held up his own cup, discovering that the barista had indeed mangled his name-- again. He glared at the coffee distastefully, muttering even as Raziel shrugged and took another sip of his mocha. “It isn't that big of a deal, dear; the spelling is unusual, after all; besides, it's better than if they tried to spell my name on the cup. Imagine what that would look like?” 
 
Johnathan frowned again, taking another tentative sip; “Why did we bother coming here again?,” he asked. Raziel leaned forward to brush his hand against the younger man's cheek, smiling; “Because I wanted to sit here with you.. that's nice, at least. Isn't it?” Johnathan blushed a little and nodded, reaching to touch the other man's hand. “Indeed it is; even so, don't you think they should know how to spell someone's name?,” he added, bending to rummage in his bag. Raziel's eyebrows flew up as his companion retrieved a scrap of something soft and furry, setting it on the table. “John, are you doing what I think you're doing?,” Raziel asked, a hint of warning in his voice as Johnathan grabbed a napkin and began to hurriedly scribble a series of arcane symbols on the paper. He placed the object in the centre of the impromptu ofuda, brushing it with his fingers as he murmured a spell.
 
Watching a smoky shape rise from the tableau, the older man shook his head, more bemused than worried at Johnathan's spellcasting; “That's not a very lucky charm after all...” A flash of pale blue light signalled the end of the spell, and in place of the napkin stood a small, shimmering rabbit; it wiggled its nose, scratching an ear with a hind foot before abruptly bounding off the table and charging for the space behind the bar. As the pair rose to their feet, taking their cups and heading for the exit, they could already hear the commotion developing as all the cups on the countertop flew off the surface with surprising force. The resultant screaming cut off by the closing of the door, Johnathan turned to his taller companion and smiled; “Perhaps we should get coffee here more often...”

  Feel free to add your own responses, or additional prompts!! We'd love to see them!

Sunday, October 28, 2012

*flails* NaNo is upon us!!! (Almost)

A bit of pre-NaNo prompt-fulfilling....
 
Padlock
Verse
End

He shook his head to clear it from the momentary distraction of the candle's flame, shivering and not daring to look up as a guard strolled by, focusing on the curled edges of the parchment before him. His fingertips slid over the slightly raised texture of the ink that covered its surface, crafted in neat, evenly spaced lines that spoke of wanton needs and deepest desires; for the moment he tried to ignore the more obvious message of each verse, squinting as he leaned forward. As the guard passed further from his view, footsteps echoing more faintly with each step, he raised the paper before the flame, wincing at the rattling of the padlock that held the shackles around his wrists even as he passed the vellum over the candle, watching as new and unseen words appeared between the inky phrases. “Tonight, after moonrise. If I do not come, then.....” His vision blurred as he blinked back salt tears, unable for the moment to read the message to its end. 

Happy Halloween to all, best of luck to the NaNo participants, and a HUGE "Thank You" to all the wonderful people who keep us writing!

Monday, September 24, 2012

I should write myself reminders...

Damn, I'm late again. Perhaps I should have something beep at me next Sunday. Anyways! Another weekly prompt, if anyone's interested!

Setting: An arcade
Color: Emerald
Word: Colossal
Question: What is fear?

Monday, September 17, 2012

A Day Later

Went to an anime convention for the weekend, came home wiped. Hence you're getting a new weekly prompt now instead! Hopefully, I'll get pics up somewhere of the con.

On to the prompt!

Setting: A thigh convention
Color: Maroon
Word: Potato
Question: Does everyone have a soul mate?

Sunday, September 9, 2012

I'm still going

Setting: A mysterious city ruin
Color: Teal
Word: Marble
Question: What is the definition of "life"?

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Another Week, Another Thought

Is anyone liking these so far? If any of you have suggestions for future  prompts, feel free to email me.

Theme: A dense mountain forest
Color: Violet
Word: Card
Question: What is knowledge?

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Diving, anyone?

Setting: Middle of the ocean
Color: Ochre
Word: Mouse
Question: What is the difference between a truth and a lie?

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Ready For Another?

Just in case anyone likes this idea, I'll post another week-long prompt. Again, use what I give as inspiration, just as with the shorter random word prompts, except this lasts seven days from when you begin.

Setting: Amusement Park
Color: Pink
Word: Help
Question: Is it possible to touch an illusion?

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Here we go again...

Trade
Policeman
Paw

Sniffing around and snooping had always been Lionel's forte, but long years on the force had worn away some of his edge, or so he felt. Days of foot-work were being replaced by hours in front of the computer and the television, gathering data that solved cases with an ease that left him cold and unfulfilled. Gone were the days of chases through the free-trade zones, frantic pursuits and the rush that came with them. He and his partner had been put out to pasture, and while his partner might be content with the occasional community event or security details, Officer Barker was tired of it all; more tired of the lack of duty than of the duty itself...and so he made his choice.

His partner was at his usual haunt, the all-night donut shop on the corner of 6th and Vine, sipping his joe as he downed yet another bismarck; he waved at Lionel idly, almost condescendingly, and Lionel gave a curt nod as acknowledgement. Anyone who knew him well, though, would recognize the bristling within, the silent seething that lingered in the tenseness of his muscles. They tensed further as his partner slowly ambled back to the the car, fumbling for his keys before chuckling as he realized that they're in the ignition. Without a second thought, Lionel Barker's paw slammed on the door lock, ignoring the stunned look from the policeman as he nosed the car into gear, it slowly rolling away into the parking lot. And with that, he was a lone wolf. A renegade.

Special Motivation

Not too much longer until NaNoWriMo begins. Because of this, I'd like to offer something a bit extra starting on the weekends. Namely, a Week Prompt. I'll give four different things to start the mental juices flowing, and you'll have a full seven days from when you start to when you finish writing.

First week long prompt

Setting: Middle East
Color: Blue
Word: Coronation
Question: Is morality universal or relative?

Sunday, July 15, 2012

More words for the wise

Since at least one person is nearing the end of that first list, I've decided to post another. Have fun, and happy writing!

sausage
exam
skylight

swimming pool
fork
nurse

sparrow
bell
ridge

uniform
nun
lentil

clippers
shark
worry

kiosk
lipstick
lighter

sardine
elastic
tomb

witch
scarf
lamp

concert
wardrobe
definition

certificate
binder
scissors

valley
hardware
bullet

lemonade
press
blonde

mound
gondola
orchestra

bench
bribe
cellar

trolley
scorpion
varnish

mulberry
spire
manners

brooch
cult
plaster

railway
China
trousers

vinegar
ladybird
fog

scream
ring
cemetery

A couple more...

A couple more snippets for your reading pleasure...
 
Champagne ( province)
brass
president

The galloping of the horse's hooves echoed in her ears as she urged it onward, eschewing well-worn trails for the sloping green hills she had seen in her dreams; as the sun rose higher in the cloudless sky, she paused near an outcropping of trees to rest, sliding off the saddle and nearly tripping over her skirts. Cursing under her breath at the impractical garments and the stupidity of the side-saddle as she rustled in a saddlebag for a flask of water and a crudely-drawn map, Charity took a deep draught before unfurling the document and puzzling over its cryptic directions. With a sigh, she patted the horse's flank gently before leading it into the shady copse of trees, listening for the sound of the creek indicated on the map, the soft trickle of the water growing louder as she approached. Trying the horse to a tree near the water, she sat down on a nearby rock, using the moss from the trees to determine her bearings before unrolling the map again.

She was already well within Champagne, according to the chart's markings, but some 20 kilometers from her goal, a secluded chateau in the heart of the wine country. A snort from the horse made her look up, automatically reaching for the brass-barreled pistol hidden within her skirts; all was silent, however, save for the splashing of the water, and she slowly returned to her perusal of the map, weapon still within her grip. The president of the organization had given her this mission himself...and she would not fail.

roses
hobby
arch

The vines climb higher up the wall, embedding themselves deeper into the cracks of the stone, a verdant web superimposed upon the columns. Tangled within them are the roses, in vivid shades of reds and pinks, the blooms carried to greater heights by the net of ivy that supports them. Walking among them, the queen bends to sniff at a delicate bud, holding it between slender fingers, their bloodlessness accentuated by the brightness of flower and vine. She plucks the bud, tucking it into her bodice before moving on, occasionally picking wilted flowers or dead leaves as she indulges in her favourite hobby. The brilliant riot of roses mask the entrance to the castle's wall...but not the faint scent of decay caused by vicious thorns still embedded in rotting flesh, nor the subtle glimpse of bleached bone that lies at the arch's foot.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Wisdom and Anchors and Cherries, Oh my...

Wisdom
Anchor
Cherry


     As they climbed down the bedsheets they'd tied together, scaling down the walls of the Academy dorm, the two boys glanced from side to side before swinging over a little to the next bank of windows, collecting the baskets of supplies they'd hidden earlier in the night. Alighting on the ground, they scurried into the shelter of a nearby bank of trees, freezing for a moment as an eerie sound echoed through the buildings then faded into nothingness. 

      Vincent, not for the the first time, questioned the wisdom of their endeavour, only to be chided by his roommate; both of them grumbled quietly at one another as they headed for the lake, spotting the little boat bobbing against the shore and hurrying to its side. They boarded the vessel and raised its curiously heavy anchor, paddling furiously for the center of the lake as the moon rose above them, casting its pale light across the waters. They opened the basket that should have contained their bait, blinking in disbelief as they pulled out a trio of cherry danishes-- someplace below the surface of the lake, burbling laughter echoed, bubbling up in a little trail not far from the boat's hull....