Story Small Scripts by Solitaire

[Fus ro dah]

Thanks to @Grin for the name. My brain just wasn't playing along!


Aaaaanyway! This thread is for me to share my non-RP writing things, just because I can. Some of them will be from writing games I do with some friends, nicknamed 'jello wrestling', also known as '4N4V3A3A (4 nouns, 4 verbs, 2 adjectives and 4 adverbs.) You give each other these words and set a timer, 30mins-1hr and in that time, you write and use every word given.


It's fun!

Spoiler

Nouns: Mountain, book, centurion, guacamole


Verbs: humble, retain, inform, exhaust


Adjectives: Unspeakable, revised, silly


Adverbs: gently, unavoidably, carelessly


A single tall, snow peaked mountain overshadowed a vast field with grass the colour of guacamole. The grass was soft, tall and smelt almost like the scent of an old book. History said that a single centurion had once marched across this land and had attempted to climb to the peak, he had died before he got halfway. Legend said his body remained there today.


Now days, the field was owned a family who had yet make use of the field. The grass had been allowed to grow wild and the children would carelessly run through it, their hands gently sliding over the stems as they passed. Their joyous laughter would echo across the field as they chased each other through the greenish yellow grass. They lived with their grandmother, who was a humble woman with kind eyes and their grandfather who had an unspeakable wisdom about him.


The two children were allowed to enjoy life, they could be as silly as they liked in the grass and no one would care. The brother and sister had grown distant from each other when their parents had died two years ago, murdered in a home invasion by a man brandishing a knife who was too high to retain any information shouted at him. He had thought this was his ex-girlfriend's home and he had come to try and take her back, his eyes had twitched as he shouted at the family, targeting the children's mother.


He had lunged at her with a maddened scream, thrusting the knife forwards and in a moment of desperation, her husband had thrown himself forwards unavoidably into the path of the attack. Once the husband was out of the way, the man had revised his original plan and had lunged at the man on the floor, stabbing him countless times. The children's mother had screamed, her hands covering her mouth before she tried to wrestle the crazed addict from her partner, only to find herself with the knife in her belly.


They had both died that day and the addict was still at large over a year later. The children had been with their grandparents when two policemen had arrived to inform them of the grave news. Upon hearing this, the siblings had broken down, old enough to understand what had happened. They grew apart, bitter at each other and would fight. Now, just over a year later they were happy again, playing silly games in the field.


The bang of an exhaust backfiring sent them shouting with joy back towards the homestead, grandpa was home from his holiday, which meant presents. They scrambled over the wooden fence and raced to stand on the porch, waving to their grandfather as his rusted truck rattled to a stop in front of them. They jumped on the spot, clapping their hands together as the grey-haired man opened the creaky truck door and pulled a large box from the front passenger seat of the truck, a knowing glimmer in his eyes as the box moved and barked.


“Puppy!” The siblings exclaimed joyfully as they bounded forwards and hugged their grandfather tightly, bumping the barking box.


The elderly man set down the box and moved to wrap an arm around his wife's waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Now, you two. You have to look after him, alright? Take him for walks, feed him, brush him, and name him.”


“Yes granpa!” They replied in unison.


They opened the box and inside was a little black puppy, his left forepaw and his right ear the only white on his wriggly, pudgy body. As he was freed, the tiny canine barked and clambered from the box and landed on the earth, licking manically at the hands that tried to pat him.






Nouns:- Atlantis, Praying Mantis, Pride, Harkonnen


Verbs:- Mingling, Winnowing, Labouring, Confounding


Adjectives:- Dissatisfied, Ecstatic, Discommoded


Adverbs:- hotly, winningly, slimily


If there was one thing that she hated more than mingling at parties, only knowing one face out of the hundreds was the host. Sure, he may be the richest man in the country and his parties were legendary, but he would stare at every young woman who attended his soirees. He would make sure to introduce himself to every single one of them, kissing the backs of their hands slimily with his fat, sweaty lips. The way he glided through the crowd made Anna think of Vladimir Harkonnen, they had roughly the same body shape, only that Jarred Winnowing walked instead of floated. Well, he mostly leaned on his cane, his breath labouring as he struggled to breathe. Anna had her pride at least, and she always managed to avoid him. Except for tonight.


“My, my Anna Charleston.” He said hotly, his piggy eyes dropping to ogle her bosom. “Don’t you look like vision tonight? Like an angel from Atlantis. I have a confounding feeling that you have been avoiding me all night.”


The redhead was pretty sure she just threw up in her mouth a little and she flicked open her fan, using it to hide her cleavage from his gaze. It was hard to meet his gaze, but she managed to smile gracefully and curtsy to the man.


“Avoid you? You must be imagining things. I didn’t intend to avoid you.” Ugh, he was just staring at her. “I apologise if you feel discommoded, Mister Winnowing.”


Jarred smiled at her winningly, although to Anna it looked more like a drunken sneer which scrunched his face and made his eyes look even smaller. She shuddered. The unhealthily obese man slid his arm around her waist, his hand ‘accidentally’ brushing against her rump.


“Are you cold, lovely lady?” He lips were almost touching her ear now and she just wanted to scream and flee into the crowd. “I could help you warm up.”


“Anna?” A familiar voice called from nearby and Anna’s eyes widened as she gently untangled herself from the human blimp.


“I’m sorry, Mister Winnowing. That’s my mother calling.” It was hard to hide how ecstatic she was that her mother had called for her at the opportune moment. “I must tend to her.”


“Of course. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”


He tried to steal a kiss, but Anna was quicker than him and she vanished into the crowd to find her mother. Once she found her, she took her by the arm and the two left the main room and stepped outside for some fresh air. Anna shook herself, her hands flapping and she stuck her tongue out.


“Ugh! I need to bathe, right now!”


“What’s the matter, my dear?” The grey-haired woman asked curiously.


“It’s just Jarred, he was all over me. I couldn’t avoid him tonight, I tried.” She whined.


Her mother chuckled and lent closer to her daughter. "I know the perfect woman for that slimeball.”


Anna cocked a brow and smiled in anticipation. “And who is that, mother?”


“A praying mantis. She’d bite off his head once she was done with him.” The older woman cackled, quite pleased with herself.

 

[Fus ro dah]

Because I'm in a sharing mood, I'll be posting the first chapters of some of my WIP stories. (These are all first drafts)

Spoiler

Have you ever stared at your reflection and realised... something just wasn't right? That the person in the mirror didn't look the way you know you looked? The more you looked, the less and less you were sure that the person in the mirror was really you? Ruan had always felt that way, his friends laughed behind his back and his parents merely rolled their eyes. The auburn haired man often spent too long looking at himself in the mirror on the days that ended with ‘y’, he cared about how he looked. A little too much, one might say.


The small, almost claustrophobic apartment was quiet and the sky was still dark when Ruan rolled out of bed. The batteries in his bedside alarm clock had gone flat overnight, so he had no idea what time it was right now. Too early, by his estimation. It was still warm from yesterday’s abnormally hot weather, this place always took too long to cool down in the summer. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he made his way into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. His fingers raked through his auburn hair, pushing the shoulder-length locks out of his eyes and he looked up into the mirror.


He froze in place, his mouth agape and his eyes wide as he stared at the… what seemed to be a window. The room looked like a bomb had hit it, literally. The glass windows were shattered and it looked like a part of the ceiling had caved in, water spurted from a broken pipe and splattered uselessly onto the charred floor. Ruan’s brow furrowed and he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, or loosing his mind.


Cautiously, he reached his hand towards the mirror, his palm pressing gently against the cool glass surface. The mirror cracked outward from his palm, exploding when the cracks reached the edge. The shards turned into silver globs and wrapped around Ruan, and no amount of struggling would free him. A scream of terror rose in his throat as he felt himself being drawn forwards, into the mirror.


Everything blurred and went black just before he hit the ground roughly. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet and grabbed at the towel that slipped from his waist. As he wrapped it back around himself, he realised that he was in the ruined room he saw through the mirror and all he had on him was his towel. He turned behind him, seeing a a broken mirror on the wall. Just like his in the bathroom, there seemed to be no reflection. In fact…


He moved closer and stared at the glass still lodged in the frame. He could see his bathroom through it. In a moment of desperation and hope, he pressed his hand against the broken glass careful not to cut himself on it and waited. Nothing happened. It was eerily quiet in here, aside from the sound of the water hitting the ground. Even outside of the house... if there even was an outside, seemed quiet. Ruan hoped he could at least find some clothes, it was cold in here.


Shivering, he left the bathroom only to find that the house was exactly the same as his own; except everything was on the other side of the room. That, and the room in here was just as damaged as the bathroom had been. He got distracted from finding clothes and looked out a window that had somehow managed to stay intact, although it was filthy. The buildings were a wreck, shattered windows, broken walls, some of them were completely collapsed. It seemed to be winter here and the snow was a dingy, awful almost black colour. Whatever had happened here, had happened to the whole city it seemed. War, maybe? Or some kind of natural disaster?


He heard the sound of running, it got closer and before he had a chance to do anything about it, he was thrown to the ground.


“What the hell are you doing?!” Ruan’s assailant hissed in his ear. “Standing in the window like that! Are you stupid?”


They were stronger than the auburn haired man, that was obvious enough as he tried to break free from their grasp and failed. “I'm not...”


A hand was clamped over his mouth as he retorted louder than they liked, Ruan was rolled over to face them. Wait... himself? They both took a few moments to try and figure out what was going on. The other Ruan’s eyes finally widened slightly as the realisation hit him.


“You're from the other world.” The other Ruan finally broke the long silence, his tone hushed and urgent. “How... how did you even get in here? You're not supposed to be here! You have to go back! Now!”


“I tried!” Ruan replied, trying to keep his voice down, which was hard due to his rising panic. “I don't even know where here is.”


He even sighed like Ruan did, which he realised as he was helped to his feet. Somehow the towel was still wrapped around Ruan’s waist firmly. “Look, you're in my world. You saw what it's like outside, it's hell. You don’t want to be here.”


“Yeah, what's with the black snow? No, wait, before that… you uh, got any clothes? I'm freezing here, and hey, what's your name?”


The other Ruan didn't answer straight away, instead he turned and rummaged around in what appeared to be the wreckage of a wardrobe. He yanked some pants and a shirt from underneath a pile of junk and he tossed them to Ruan who went into the remainder of the bathroom and quickly pulled them on. Slightly dusty clothing was far better than just a towel. He went back out to find… his twin rummaging through some debris.


“Roth.”


“Huh?” Ruan’s head tilted to the side, confused.


“That’s my name, you asked before.” He pulled a book with a crumpled cover from beneath the rubble.


“Oh, right. Roth. Cool. So uh…” Ruan nodded towards the windows. “What happened out there?”


Roth opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a loud, booming howl which echoed across the broken cityscape. He blanched and darted forwards, grabbing Ruan’s arm. “We have to get out of here!”


Ruan was half dragged along behind his ‘twin’. “What the hell was that? What’s going on?’


“The Hounds are coming. The Black Dogs… Why are they here now?” Roth continued muttering something, Ruan couldn’t understand him.


“Dogs? We’re running from dogs?”


“I’ll explain once we get to the safe-house. Just, keep your eyes open.”


“For dogs?”


“For anything.”


Roth kept hold of his arm as the two ran, Ruan continually looking back over his shoulder to see these hounds that terrified Roth so much. He saw nothing, but he could hear their howls and their growls as they ran. Running in the snow was never his forte, and he spent the other half of his attention to keep himself from slipping over on the dirty grey snow.


“I can’t see them.” He called, looking backwards again and almost tripping over a chunk of cement that was partially obscured. “Where are they?”


A large, black blur moved in the corner of his vision and his head snapped around to try and see what it was. Ruan swore he saw something in the shadows, a flash of fangs, a dim red glow in the darkness. Was that one of the dogs Roth spoke of? Or was it a figment of his imagination? He slammed into Roth’s back and almost caused them both to stumble.


“Don’t. Move.” Roth’s voice was soft, wary, full of warning. “Not yet. Get ready… “


In front of them stood four dogs, as large as a small horse. Their fur was long, coarse, black as pitch and matted with mud and blood. Long fangs were revealed as the beasts lips curled back into a vicious snarl, talon-like claws clicked on the ground, and long bushy tails bristled in anger. They stood abreast, a fifth joining them from the left. Their eyes, crimson and glowing, watched the two humans as they sized up their prey.


Ruan’s heart was in his throat as he stared at the monsters before him, his chest was tight, his body trembling with fear. Roth still had hold of his arm, which was also trembling. The two groups remained still, watching each other, waiting for each other to make just one move to break the impasse. One of the Black Dogs grew impatient, and jaws snapping, it lunged forwards, the others following shortly after.


“Run!”


Ruan was pulled roughly to the right, towards an alleyway that from a glance, seemed too thin for the hounds to follow them down. The monstrous beasts weren’t far behind, their huge paws pounding across the ground. The two auburn-haired men hurried into the alleyway, thankfully out of reach of the hounds. Heart pounding in his chest, Ruan lent against the wall in front of him, panting. He was shaking still, his head spinning as he tried to make sense of what he’d just seen.


“What were they?” He asked once he caught his breath. “Were those the dogs you warned me about?”


Roth nodded from where he lent back against the other wall. “The Black Dogs. I don’t understand, they usually only come out during storms or just after. There’s been no storms for weeks, yet here they are.”


“Maybe they got hungry.”


“Joke all you like, but we can’t stay here forever. The Black Dogs aren’t the only thing around here that want to tear you apart. It wasn’t just them that destroyed the city.”


Ruan hoped that Roth was joking, but the serious look on the other’s face (Ruan knew that look all too well) showed that he was being serious. The dogs paced back and forth at the end of the alleyway, barking and growling, snarling and pawing at the two humans who were out of reach. Thankfully they hadn’t moved around to the other end yet, which meant they could escape. Roth led Ruan towards the exit, stopping at the end to make sure it was safe. The hounds were still at the other end, trying to squeeze their way down the pathway.


Roth pointed down the street at a distant house. “That place has a huge basement, which is our safe-house for now.”


“For now?” Ruan asked as he followed Roth out onto the street.


“They always find us.”

 
Next up is the short first chapter of my first, and untitled, sci-fi story.






The sweet scent of her perfume fills the room, the soft touch of her hand plays with her ebony locks. The curves of her body are silhouetted by the light of the sunset streaming in through the window. She smiles coyly, her soft laughter is like ambrosia in the air. Her steps are light on the low pile carpet as she dances to her favourite song, she's the only one that likes it. (“Monsters aren't born, they're made. Monsters like you. Monsters like me...”) Lips meet, she tastes like the sweetest candy and their bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. Her song is on repeat as clothing is shed and the puzzle pieces come together on the dark blue sofa.


That night is the last time they are together.


Time had no meaning any more, not here. Sunrise came, bringing along with it the biting heat of the day. The dry heat and the arid winds that threatened to burn you to a cinder if you stayed out in it too long. Dust devils spun across the red rocky ground, picking up small rocks and hurling them through the air. There's barely any animals on the surface during the day, only the few that have evolved over the years to withstand the heat. Mostly insects, some canine creatures and a couple of scavenger bird species.


Sunset bought the cool air of the night, sometimes thunder rumbled across the skies threatening rain but never delivering. The night air was filled with the sounds of the creatures that lived here, that spent the day below ground hiding from the biting sun. Animals fought each other for food, for mates, for territory and most importantly for water.


Humans settled on this planet around four hundred years ago, back when the world was habitable. When grass and trees grew green, when the oceans and lakes were filled with water and when the rivers flowed swiftly. There were more animals back then too, introduced species that were raised to help the colony survive. Three more colonies sprung up after two hundred years, other races moving to this new planet, the population reached around four million over the centuries.


Summer was long here, the temperatures quite high. The colonists didn't mind, they had the technology to keep themselves cool inside. Even the barns they had for the stock were climate controlled, the animals were kept inside during the scorching summer days and let out once the temperature cooled.


Those days were gone now, the heat had risen steadily over the last fifty years. The solar flares that weren't uncommon on the pale yellow sun, became larger and more volatile, sparking fears about the stability of the star. The colonies were abandoned when the temperatures spiked to dangerous levels, destroying the power sources and killing hundreds across the planet. Carrier ships were bought in for a mass evacuation as people packed up their lives and prepared to leave their homes. What stock the ships could carry were loaded into crates, the rest regretfully set free.


The only place that wasn't fully evacuated was the penitentiary. The prisoners were left to fight and fend for themselves, their cells left unlocked, but the three outer fences remained in lock-down. There had been some public outcry about the choice, but minds were changed when the only other option was to travel with incarcerated prisoners.


When the prisoners realised they'd been left behind to die, panic had spread across the compound. Riots broke out as people tried to escape, bodies littered the hallways and fire spread throughout the prison. Benches were ripped from their fixings and used as battering rams to knock the fences down, all the while fighting in among themselves.


Now most of the escapees who survived the riots and the escape, were dead and the ones who had survived had taken over the first settlement they'd come across. Most of them were dead now as well, killed by the near constant power struggles in the settlement.

 

[Fus ro dah]

The first chapter of a dsytopian story that I forgot I was working on until now xD

Spoiler

Thick, grey clouds rolled across the sky, casting deep shadows and blocking out the sun. The flat land is cast in monochrome hues, the only thing rising from the earth is a large grey compound. Three rows of fences surround the rectangular building which stretches five stories high, coils of razor wire spiral across the top of each fence. Armed men patrol the perimeter, pistols holstered at their sides and a rifle leaning up against their right shoulder.


A large truck rolls along the dusty, bumpy road toward the compound and rolls to a stop as two men step to stand in front of the only gate through the fences. They hold their weapons across their torsos, narrowed eyes scanning the idling vehicle. One of the men approaches the driver side door and takes the paper held out by the man at the wheel, he reads the contents and hands the paper back with a nod. The two guards do a sweep of the outside of the truck before the gate rolls open with a squeak and allows the truck to pass through.


The truck starts forward, slower now and it rumbles through each of the three gates that lead to the innermost yard where the building was located. The truck backed up to a set of double doors on the eastern side and the engine was cut, two men emerged from the cabin as the double doors were opened by a pair of guards who had been waiting inside. The roller door of the truck was unlocked and rolled up, revealing the human cargo inside. Men and women of various ages were inside, looking out with bleary eyes. Commands were barked at them by a fifth figure, a straight-backed man with a Roman nose and steely grey eyes. His thin lips were set into a straight line as the prisoners slowly got to their feet, they filed out of the truck into the hall, each one reeking of human waste.


“Foul dogs.” The Captain spat and plucked a kerchief from his pocket, raising it to cover his nose. “Third door on the left is open, you will march there in silence and be hosed down.”


No one spoke a word, they were too exhausted and their legs were aching from being stuffed into the back of the truck for the last few days. They shuffled down the grey cement hallway and filed through the open door, inside the room was sparse, a large drain in the centre. The floors were slanted downward to allow the water to run down and drain away. Men in waterproof clothing stood at the ready with thick hoses in their hands. The Captain closed the door after the last prisoner and watched, his hands clasped behind his back as they were lined up.


Chilly, clear water rushed through the hoses and gushed from the nozzles, it arched through the air and hit the waiting prisoners’ bodies with force. They reeled from the pressure, a few gasping out loud from the shock of the cold on their warm skin. Their filthy clothing was soaked in a manner of moments, clinging to their shivering forms as the water pounded against their backs.


“Turn!”


They did as they were told and cringed as the water once again assaulted them, almost knocking a few of the weaker ones over. They covered their faces to protect them from the pain of the water hitting them and only once they were visibly shivering, was the water turned off.


“Take off your clothes and put on the ones you are supplied with.” The Captain barked from his vantage point.


One of the men who had been brandishing one of the hoses walked over to a locked cupboard and retrieved piles of folded clothing. Dull grey in colour with slightly lighter vertical stripes, the typical garb worn by those in the compound. The prisoners hesitantly stripped off their clothing, some of them turning their backs for just a moment of dignity. One size fitted all, and those who were shorter were rolling up the hems of their pants and their sleeves. The soaking wet clothing was swept away to the side and dumped into a bag, it would be sent down to the incinerator shortly.


“Process them, then report back to me.” The Captain ordered the men, who saluted and nodded.


The straight-backed man spun on his heel and strode from the room, leaving the remaining men to march the exhausted and wet prisoners from the room and down the hall. They are directed into rooms in groups of three, three beds and a bucket are in each of the rooms. Too exhausted from traveling to fight, seek a way out or even talk, the group of twelve crawled onto their beds and fell asleep almost instantly.


The lights came on early next morning, accompanied by the doors opening. A guard stood at each door and the four groups of three were reunited, half asleep they walked down the cement corridors in single file. They were stopped outside of a guarded room and pressed to face the wall, their palms flat against the cool stone, foreheads leaning to rest against it. A man, heavily scarred, is pulled from the front of the line and led through the guarded door, which is closed behind him.


One by one, each prisoner is taken from their place against the wall and led into the room. Inside are a small handful of medical staff, and two more guards. A chair is in the centre of the room, which the prisoner is strapped into. An injection is administered to their upper arm via a heavy gauge needle, and the memories they had up until now would be their last. Barely conscious, they are carried from the room into a medical room and monitored until they recover. They are now Blank Slates, with no memories of their previous life. No memories of their families, their friends, or the crimes they committed.