That Lass Over There
Constant Panic
That was so unexpected I chuckled... But honestly, why not? That's the point of art.
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That was so unexpected I chuckled... But honestly, why not? That's the point of art.
KiKi Kitsune
The Fire Panda Fairy
Their blue haired commander shouted out orders as they left the ruins that were once a place of beauty. She believed that the battle wasn’t over until they got back home. Her lieutenants stayed close by, making sure orders were followed with their silent yet deathly gaze.
Lucas wasn’t going to disobey. He quite liked having all his fingers and toes as well as the ability to speak. Unfortunately, a few of the men in his regiment had found out the hard way that not doing exactly what you were told would result in a rather unpleasant visit from the lieutenants. They were now the first to snap to attention whenever an order was given out.
The iron clad man breathed out a sigh and straightened up. His shield was heavy in his hand, but his sword somehow felt like it weighed more. How many people had he stolen from? In his lifetime? In that single day?
He had stolen many things. Money, food, clothes. But now, he had stolen more lives than he could remember.
He had killed before. There were many battles before the army had reached the city. He fought for his life. It was just as the general had said, “If you want to live, the others have to die. If they want to live, you have to die. It’s not just a fight. It’s a contest to see who has a stronger will to live.”
During the battle, all the enemies had looked the same. They all wore the same uniforms, had helms covering their faces. They weren’t actual people. Just hunks of metal that had no personality or past or family. That was how Lucas had thought about it as he had fought for his life. He would have to keep that thinking to prevent himself from being consumed by guilt.
Water splashed onto his leg as he stepped in a large puddle. The sound of metallic marching became deafening as the ripples in the murky water began to settle.
There was no sound anymore. Everything was drowned out by the deafening nothingness. The numbness that overcame his body by a mere realisation halted his march completely.
He was just the same as those he had killed. Dispensable and replaceable.
A masked hunk of metal.
(words: 381)
(time: roughly 30 min)
Lucas wasn’t going to disobey. He quite liked having all his fingers and toes as well as the ability to speak. Unfortunately, a few of the men in his regiment had found out the hard way that not doing exactly what you were told would result in a rather unpleasant visit from the lieutenants. They were now the first to snap to attention whenever an order was given out.
The iron clad man breathed out a sigh and straightened up. His shield was heavy in his hand, but his sword somehow felt like it weighed more. How many people had he stolen from? In his lifetime? In that single day?
He had stolen many things. Money, food, clothes. But now, he had stolen more lives than he could remember.
He had killed before. There were many battles before the army had reached the city. He fought for his life. It was just as the general had said, “If you want to live, the others have to die. If they want to live, you have to die. It’s not just a fight. It’s a contest to see who has a stronger will to live.”
During the battle, all the enemies had looked the same. They all wore the same uniforms, had helms covering their faces. They weren’t actual people. Just hunks of metal that had no personality or past or family. That was how Lucas had thought about it as he had fought for his life. He would have to keep that thinking to prevent himself from being consumed by guilt.
Water splashed onto his leg as he stepped in a large puddle. The sound of metallic marching became deafening as the ripples in the murky water began to settle.
There was no sound anymore. Everything was drowned out by the deafening nothingness. The numbness that overcame his body by a mere realisation halted his march completely.
He was just the same as those he had killed. Dispensable and replaceable.
A masked hunk of metal.
(words: 381)
(time: roughly 30 min)
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That Lass Over There
Constant Panic
The sound of marching feet was deafening. Armor plating clattered against itself as the invading army made its way towards the heart of the city, the heart of the kingdom. If any were still living within the ruins of the city, they hid at the sound of the passing army. Fires were still burning, even in the heart of the city, a walled off area just as destroyed at the rest of the city. The enemy had been relentless and made sure not a single part was missed and those that were seeking refuge behind battered walls did not have time.
"Taika." She turned, her footfall stilling. The teenage boy joined her, weapon in hand. "Are you sure about this? Can we really do this?"
Taika started again. "I don't know. But we don't have other choices." She glanced at him as he fell into step beside her. "You don't have to do this with me, Ove."
Ove gave her a smile. "Yes, I do." Rushed footfall drew them to a stop, their gazes going back the way they had come. Another teenager was approaching, their red hair bobbing around them as they came to a stop beside the pair. "We both do," Ove continued. "This is our kingdom as well. We're not about to let you do this alone."
The red haired teen grinned. "Not in any lifetime," they agreed.
Taika offered them a tight smile. "We will most likely die."
The red haired teen shrugged. "We're gonna die anyways. Might as well try."
"Please Taika." She looked at Ove. "Let us help."
She sighed. "Fine. But stay close.”
Taika took the lead, weaving her way between knights and civilians, between the tired and the injured. This was their last stand, their last fight, and a lot of hope was resting on one teenager’s shoulders.
The archway leading into the heart of the city loomed over them as they passed underneath it with the knights that were making a last stand with them. The knights spread out to either side as Taika continued straight ahead, stopping several hundred feet before the archway. Ove settled behind her right shoulder, the red haired teen behind her left. Before them, emerging from the smoke and flames, was the invading army.
Taika settled the book in her left hand and allowed it to fall open. She barely glanced at the page as the army came to a sudden halt. The silence that followed was deafening.
A man on a horse wearing golden armor stopped a short distance before the army, facing Taika. “Surrender now or be wiped out!” the man shouted, his voice cold and lifeless. “Your kingdom has fallen!”
“As long as we stand, our kingdom survives!” Taika shouted back, her right hand tightening around her tool.
The man arched an eyebrow and gestured. A shot lobbed itself through the red haired teen’s shoulder and the teen grunted, curling around the wound.
“Bai!” Ove exclaimed, taking a step towards them.
Bai threw up a hand, shaking their head. “I’m fine.” They straightened though their back was hunched and stepped closer to Taika. “Taika.” The army before them surged forward with a battle cry. “Now.”
Taika took a step forward as the book in her hand started to glow. Words fell from her lips that were not of the common tongue, not of any tongue that existed in that world still.
A rumble rolled through the earth as the center of the city began to glow behind the final stand.
Words: 587
Time: 32.5 minutes
Phew~ Decisions decisions.
This one was a hard one, mostly because you two scored pretty close.
@asharasahara Your strength was most definitely clarity in the writing, and it's overall quality made me feel like I was reading a well chosen excerpt from a book.
@KiKi Kitsune You had a totally different strength; you stuck just as hard to the picture, but didn't come up with obvious ideas. You chose to take up the view of the generic soldier in that army and twist it into a tale of a person questioning the morality of what he was doing. There were most definitely improvements to be made, because it felt like a sucker punch - it was gone before I fully understood what happened, so I had to read it a second time. In this case, probably what you needed was just a bit of quality beefing up.
I probably made it obvious, but I give the win to Kiki on account of creativity. Looking forward to seeing the prompt~
KiKi Kitsune
The Fire Panda Fairy
Gaaaahh! Thank you
Okay okay, songs are alright, right? I saw one before, so I'm going to assume yes.
The prompt is: Halsey - Control
Lyrics of note:
I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones
And all the kids cried out,
"Please stop, you're scaring me."
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?
Word count: 350 word minimum and 500 max (not too strict on max, just don't go overboard XD)
Time limit: Is 24 hours alright?
Okay okay, songs are alright, right? I saw one before, so I'm going to assume yes.
The prompt is: Halsey - Control
Lyrics of note:
I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones
And all the kids cried out,
"Please stop, you're scaring me."
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?
Word count: 350 word minimum and 500 max (not too strict on max, just don't go overboard XD)
Time limit: Is 24 hours alright?
Life.
Forever Wandering
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Please stop. Enzo this isn’t you.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The small man took a few tentative steps back. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]I know this isn’t me, but I can’t...control myself. Please help, [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]is what I wanted to say but all that came out was a drool of white foam from my mouth. A sharp, intrusive pain seeped into the very pathways of my brain. I took a few steps away from the small man himself throwing my head to and fro in hopes of shaking away whatever it is. But it continued to encroach upon my own thoughts. Everything before me began changing from shades of sepia to a sickening red. My heartbeat began quickening surging blood to every inch of my body. The slow change was causing my whole body to shiver. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]No, no, please…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]There was nothing that could stop it though. Eventually my five senses intensified, a deep, barbaric instinct that I have restrained was released inside of me. A monstrous rumble shook inside my chest that eventually led to a terrifying growl escaping my jaws. My lips crinkled up and the pupils of my eyes shrunk as it attempted to adjust to the darkness that began covering the red. Many sounds were filling my ears at once tearing my eardrums and a single voice shouted among the many sounds, “Enzo!” It was the big man. I remembered him...I think. Nothing was making sense at this point. I took a step forward and coughed up some more foam and eventually some blood. My tongue stuck out panting attempting to balance the scorching heat of my body that felt like hell. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Dad, what’s wrong with Enzo?” it was the voice of the small man. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Jimmy get inside now.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“But Da-”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Now!”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The loud voice caused me to turn towards him. The barbaric instinct pressed my legs forward and caused another growl to rumble. At this point I could barely see anything. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]No...this isn’t...what I want…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]But I was dead inside now. What was moving my body was a disease ridden animal. It continued forward flashing its canines to the large man. By chance it lifted its face to get a good look of the man’s face. Sadness. Just pure sadness. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Dave...I’m sorry. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]At the last moment I did manage to release a whimper among the beast controlled body. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“I’m sorry, Enzo,” he cried as he lifted a black stick towards me. From the sharp smell of gunpowder the beast could tell this was a threat and tried to flee but I held it back and stood my ground. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]If I go, you go with me. You turned me to this and now you shall stay. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Feeling my defiance the beast attempted to jump and lunge at the large man, but then a large popping sound filled the air and a sharp pain filled my brain once again but not before I closed my eyes to the complete darkness. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Dave sank onto his knees as he wailed his sorrows away, he threw the gun a few inches away from his knees and looked towards the dead body in front of him. The man placed a hand on its head and gave the body one last stroke all the way down its furry body. He let the tears fall onto the face of the fallen soul but not before he whispered to the empty vassal, “You were always a good boy Enzo. I’m sorry that you had to go this way. I should’ve gotten you that vaccine. Never did I want to shoot you my best friend.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Word Count: 596 (I hope that's not too overboard. I can shorten it if you want me to. And I do hope it's understandable what Enzo is. I had a better image in mine, but this is meh.)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The small man took a few tentative steps back. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]I know this isn’t me, but I can’t...control myself. Please help, [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]is what I wanted to say but all that came out was a drool of white foam from my mouth. A sharp, intrusive pain seeped into the very pathways of my brain. I took a few steps away from the small man himself throwing my head to and fro in hopes of shaking away whatever it is. But it continued to encroach upon my own thoughts. Everything before me began changing from shades of sepia to a sickening red. My heartbeat began quickening surging blood to every inch of my body. The slow change was causing my whole body to shiver. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]No, no, please…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]There was nothing that could stop it though. Eventually my five senses intensified, a deep, barbaric instinct that I have restrained was released inside of me. A monstrous rumble shook inside my chest that eventually led to a terrifying growl escaping my jaws. My lips crinkled up and the pupils of my eyes shrunk as it attempted to adjust to the darkness that began covering the red. Many sounds were filling my ears at once tearing my eardrums and a single voice shouted among the many sounds, “Enzo!” It was the big man. I remembered him...I think. Nothing was making sense at this point. I took a step forward and coughed up some more foam and eventually some blood. My tongue stuck out panting attempting to balance the scorching heat of my body that felt like hell. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Dad, what’s wrong with Enzo?” it was the voice of the small man. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Jimmy get inside now.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“But Da-”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Now!”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The loud voice caused me to turn towards him. The barbaric instinct pressed my legs forward and caused another growl to rumble. At this point I could barely see anything. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]No...this isn’t...what I want…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]But I was dead inside now. What was moving my body was a disease ridden animal. It continued forward flashing its canines to the large man. By chance it lifted its face to get a good look of the man’s face. Sadness. Just pure sadness. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Dave...I’m sorry. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]At the last moment I did manage to release a whimper among the beast controlled body. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“I’m sorry, Enzo,” he cried as he lifted a black stick towards me. From the sharp smell of gunpowder the beast could tell this was a threat and tried to flee but I held it back and stood my ground. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]If I go, you go with me. You turned me to this and now you shall stay. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Feeling my defiance the beast attempted to jump and lunge at the large man, but then a large popping sound filled the air and a sharp pain filled my brain once again but not before I closed my eyes to the complete darkness. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Dave sank onto his knees as he wailed his sorrows away, he threw the gun a few inches away from his knees and looked towards the dead body in front of him. The man placed a hand on its head and gave the body one last stroke all the way down its furry body. He let the tears fall onto the face of the fallen soul but not before he whispered to the empty vassal, “You were always a good boy Enzo. I’m sorry that you had to go this way. I should’ve gotten you that vaccine. Never did I want to shoot you my best friend.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Word Count: 596 (I hope that's not too overboard. I can shorten it if you want me to. And I do hope it's understandable what Enzo is. I had a better image in mine, but this is meh.)[/SIZE]
S n o w
Dreamer
She stood on the castle balcony, her expression schooled into impassiveness even as her hands were clenched around the railing. Below her, an execution was taking place. The courtyard was stained with blood, and even as the executioner flicked the blood off his blade, a line of prisoners still awaited death. She knew them, of course, as they knew her. They were the former King’s loyal guards.
She looked beyond them, at the war tearing apart her country. Fires were spreading as far back as she could see, turning the sky a thick, smoky black. She could almost hear the sounds of those loyal to her clashing against those who wanted her head.
She felt darkness stir within her, whispering to her, its voice almost mocking. This is what you wanted.
The crown had never felt heavier than in that moment.
She closed her eyes, and reflected on what she’d done.
A memory not yet corrupted by the darkness rose up, and she relived it slowly, agonizingly.
“I was promised power, so give it to me! I’ll pay any price!” She shouted up at the moon what felt like years ago, tears streaming down her face. She was surrounded by a ring of candles. Blood dripped onto the ground from a cut on her hand, and a forbidden spell book lay at her feet.
She didn’t know if the spell would work, as she’d been told that magic didn’t exist.
The moon ignored her pleas, though a force below her feet invoked by the black magic did not. She thought her power would come from the sky, but instead it swirled around her legs. It enveloped her, and she choked on the darkness.
Briefly, her eyes turned red.
Just as quickly as it came, the memory was gone, replaced by another.
Jack jerked, choking. Slowly, he turned his head as much as he could to face her. Shock and betrayal fought for dominance in his eyes.
She grinned and pushed the sword deeper into his chest until it came out the other side. Her eyes were red.
Jack shuddered once, staring down at the sword point as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
She let go, finding dark satisfaction in the way he fell to his knees. When he tipped forward, she chuckled. Jack had been unofficial King for only a few seconds.
She looked to the blood splattered, empty throne and went to it. She plucked the crown off the dead figure at the foot of the crown while she was at it, and fixed it on her own head. She was laughing as she sat down.
She was Queen.
Wait, she thought, that isn’t right. There was something before that, something she was forgetting.
She and Jack ran towards the throne room, a scattered group of soldiers behind them. They were the King’s royal guard, but several simultaneous rebel attacks had kept them away from aiding the King.
A small group of rebels blocked the doors, and she and Jack were the first to break through them, though it was too late.
The King was already dead at the foot of his throne. He was a good, fair King, beloved by his people. She knew that by law, the throne would fall to Jack, the King’s closest blood relative.
While Jack was staring at the King, she moved behind him. He didn’t see the sword until it stabbed him in the back.
Her first act as Queen had been to execute anyone who knew of her treachery, and her second was to execute anyone who spoke ill of her. This was the result.
She looked beyond them, at the war tearing apart her country. Fires were spreading as far back as she could see, turning the sky a thick, smoky black. She could almost hear the sounds of those loyal to her clashing against those who wanted her head.
She felt darkness stir within her, whispering to her, its voice almost mocking. This is what you wanted.
The crown had never felt heavier than in that moment.
She closed her eyes, and reflected on what she’d done.
A memory not yet corrupted by the darkness rose up, and she relived it slowly, agonizingly.
“I was promised power, so give it to me! I’ll pay any price!” She shouted up at the moon what felt like years ago, tears streaming down her face. She was surrounded by a ring of candles. Blood dripped onto the ground from a cut on her hand, and a forbidden spell book lay at her feet.
She didn’t know if the spell would work, as she’d been told that magic didn’t exist.
The moon ignored her pleas, though a force below her feet invoked by the black magic did not. She thought her power would come from the sky, but instead it swirled around her legs. It enveloped her, and she choked on the darkness.
Briefly, her eyes turned red.
Just as quickly as it came, the memory was gone, replaced by another.
Jack jerked, choking. Slowly, he turned his head as much as he could to face her. Shock and betrayal fought for dominance in his eyes.
She grinned and pushed the sword deeper into his chest until it came out the other side. Her eyes were red.
Jack shuddered once, staring down at the sword point as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
She let go, finding dark satisfaction in the way he fell to his knees. When he tipped forward, she chuckled. Jack had been unofficial King for only a few seconds.
She looked to the blood splattered, empty throne and went to it. She plucked the crown off the dead figure at the foot of the crown while she was at it, and fixed it on her own head. She was laughing as she sat down.
She was Queen.
Wait, she thought, that isn’t right. There was something before that, something she was forgetting.
She and Jack ran towards the throne room, a scattered group of soldiers behind them. They were the King’s royal guard, but several simultaneous rebel attacks had kept them away from aiding the King.
A small group of rebels blocked the doors, and she and Jack were the first to break through them, though it was too late.
The King was already dead at the foot of his throne. He was a good, fair King, beloved by his people. She knew that by law, the throne would fall to Jack, the King’s closest blood relative.
While Jack was staring at the King, she moved behind him. He didn’t see the sword until it stabbed him in the back.
Her first act as Queen had been to execute anyone who knew of her treachery, and her second was to execute anyone who spoke ill of her. This was the result.
Flip
Frightfully funny, frightfully friendly
Snow looked so soft, so warm, twinkling on a backdrop of hazy dark. It even had a melody - a gentle tinkling of light trickling on snowflakes, like tiny golden bells jostled by the caress of a tepid breeze.
On his brother's cheeks the snow was muted into liquid. But the snow-- the snow was warm. Only when it landed on his brother did it turn to ice, and melt, and become silent.
Alamar followed his brother down the white-shrouded street, watched as the people one-by-one took notice of him. Their eyes screamed, wide, when they saw the knife in his brother's trembling hand, and the blood, worn thick like a winter coat. They did not see Alamar, but they saw his brother.
Sirens ripped through the serenity of the winter's night and police cars swung out in front of them. Officers disembarked from them, drew their weapons, approached, demanded they calm down.
His brother slowed, came to a stop, frozen. "Please..." His brother croaked, struggling to form words; "Please, don't come near me. I can't help it... I don't have control..."
Alamar extended a hand, urged his brother forward. The knife went up in an impossible slice of golden light; from one officer, another layer was added to the winter coat, shimmering and steaming, a pretty red. Despite the warmth it offered, his brother was trembling more than ever, colder than ever. A golden aura was creeping around him, in the shape of Alamar's hands. It crept around the knife, made it inhumanly quick, made lethal incisions in every person that approached. It stained the carpet of snow red.
All around them laid useless bodies, flayed open, their souls released. Finally, it was his brother's time. Alamar helped him raise the knife above his heart.
The snow was so soft, so warm. Alamar held out his hand, watched a snowflake spiral, tinkling, down towards his golden palm. Watched it fall right through, its melody uninterrupted.
When the knife came down, released his brother, there was a tempest of change, sending the snow into a flurry, the bodies disintegrating into more white dust, all of it spiraling and wrapping around them, bringing them together. Now, his brother could understand why he had to take control. Why he had to finish what he had started.
The snow became calm, drifting, as his brother opened his eyes, awakened. Alamar could feel it, finally. He could feel the snow. It was soft, and warm. He caught it in his hand, brought it to his face, looked at it; no--
Alamar realized, horrified, that what had landed in his palm was not snow. They were white poppies--death's flower--and, he discovered, they were the only thing left he could feel.
(( Alamar = means "coated in gold"
White poppies = symbolize death in poetry and stuff
Man this was a weird attempt at a character study lol <: D
by the way, Halsey is AWESOME all her songs are so inspiring! ))
On his brother's cheeks the snow was muted into liquid. But the snow-- the snow was warm. Only when it landed on his brother did it turn to ice, and melt, and become silent.
Alamar followed his brother down the white-shrouded street, watched as the people one-by-one took notice of him. Their eyes screamed, wide, when they saw the knife in his brother's trembling hand, and the blood, worn thick like a winter coat. They did not see Alamar, but they saw his brother.
Sirens ripped through the serenity of the winter's night and police cars swung out in front of them. Officers disembarked from them, drew their weapons, approached, demanded they calm down.
His brother slowed, came to a stop, frozen. "Please..." His brother croaked, struggling to form words; "Please, don't come near me. I can't help it... I don't have control..."
Alamar extended a hand, urged his brother forward. The knife went up in an impossible slice of golden light; from one officer, another layer was added to the winter coat, shimmering and steaming, a pretty red. Despite the warmth it offered, his brother was trembling more than ever, colder than ever. A golden aura was creeping around him, in the shape of Alamar's hands. It crept around the knife, made it inhumanly quick, made lethal incisions in every person that approached. It stained the carpet of snow red.
All around them laid useless bodies, flayed open, their souls released. Finally, it was his brother's time. Alamar helped him raise the knife above his heart.
The snow was so soft, so warm. Alamar held out his hand, watched a snowflake spiral, tinkling, down towards his golden palm. Watched it fall right through, its melody uninterrupted.
When the knife came down, released his brother, there was a tempest of change, sending the snow into a flurry, the bodies disintegrating into more white dust, all of it spiraling and wrapping around them, bringing them together. Now, his brother could understand why he had to take control. Why he had to finish what he had started.
The snow became calm, drifting, as his brother opened his eyes, awakened. Alamar could feel it, finally. He could feel the snow. It was soft, and warm. He caught it in his hand, brought it to his face, looked at it; no--
Alamar realized, horrified, that what had landed in his palm was not snow. They were white poppies--death's flower--and, he discovered, they were the only thing left he could feel.
(( Alamar = means "coated in gold"
White poppies = symbolize death in poetry and stuff
Man this was a weird attempt at a character study lol <: D
by the way, Halsey is AWESOME all her songs are so inspiring! ))
Last edited by a moderator:
SepiaInk
The Wind-Watcher
Everything felt wet and gross, skin drenched in sweat and feet swimming in her sneakers. Even in her breathless state, Sam practically flung herself at the sink, turning on the faucet and thrusting her head under the stream to wash away the grime. Looking up at the mirror, she held up a hand to her face to brush fingers against short damp hair, broken nose and down to her busted lip. Frowning, she kicked off her sneakers and climbed onto the sink, marble cold under her feet as she stood up. Slamming her hands against the mirror, which shook but didn’t crack, she leaned into it to get a closer look at her wounds, only to end up staring herself down.
Her reflection never failed to piss her off for some reason.
Hearing a groan, she dropped her gaze to the floor next to the sink. Sitting on a puddle, back against the wall and cheek pressed against the marble, jock boy stirred and Sam watched one baby blue eye flutter open.
“You know,” she started, tracing some of the more grotesque and creative graffiti on the glass. “I’m not complaining about taking a beating every other day. I know I’m difficult and deserve it sometimes. Well, most of the time actually.” She turned to shoot the young man a knowing grin. All she got was a blank stare in return. “But this is getting boring,” she confessed.
Taking a step back, she took off her shirt and flung it towards jock boy, who didn’t even have the energy to catch it and just let it fall on his lap. So much for great reflexes. “Even the bruises are getting old,” she mumbled, inspecting the colourful paintings on the canvas that was her whole torso. She glanced at the other to see his reaction, only to find him with his face turned away from her.
Sam snorted, eyes gleaming with mirth. “Wow, what a gentleman,” she mocked him, but her sneer shifted into a glare when she leaned once more into the mirror, forehead bumping against the foggy glass. “Is that supposed to be respect? From someone who treats me like his own personal punching bag?” Her reflection shook where her fist landed. “I’m tired of it! It’s always been like this. You people strike me down at every chance you get because you’re afraid of me. But you can’t even do that right!” Another punch. The damn mirror won’t break.
“You’re insane.” It’s barely a whisper, but jock boy’s voice resonates clearly on the walls of the bathroom.
“Oh, what happened to freak? Have I been promoted?” she wonders, chuckling at the thought, but her smile falters as soon as she gets a good look at the others face.
It’s genuine fear in his eyes, but not the one she’s used to. Face to face with it, she suddenly feels sick and slowly slides down the mirror, clutching her head.
What is she doing? There’s nothing familiar about this. This isn’t the dead feeling when she lays boneless inside the bathtub and stares up at the black void. Or the high she feels when she empties out her creativity on an endless flow of paper. This isn’t even the red haze that falls over her when all she wants to do is hurt. She can’t tell anymore.
Who’s steering the ship?
I’m kind of regretting writing this, but this was the first scene that popped into my mind after listening to the song, which is amazing by the way. Really love the artist.
It’s 563 words. Tried my best to trim it down, hope that’s okay.
Her reflection never failed to piss her off for some reason.
Hearing a groan, she dropped her gaze to the floor next to the sink. Sitting on a puddle, back against the wall and cheek pressed against the marble, jock boy stirred and Sam watched one baby blue eye flutter open.
“You know,” she started, tracing some of the more grotesque and creative graffiti on the glass. “I’m not complaining about taking a beating every other day. I know I’m difficult and deserve it sometimes. Well, most of the time actually.” She turned to shoot the young man a knowing grin. All she got was a blank stare in return. “But this is getting boring,” she confessed.
Taking a step back, she took off her shirt and flung it towards jock boy, who didn’t even have the energy to catch it and just let it fall on his lap. So much for great reflexes. “Even the bruises are getting old,” she mumbled, inspecting the colourful paintings on the canvas that was her whole torso. She glanced at the other to see his reaction, only to find him with his face turned away from her.
Sam snorted, eyes gleaming with mirth. “Wow, what a gentleman,” she mocked him, but her sneer shifted into a glare when she leaned once more into the mirror, forehead bumping against the foggy glass. “Is that supposed to be respect? From someone who treats me like his own personal punching bag?” Her reflection shook where her fist landed. “I’m tired of it! It’s always been like this. You people strike me down at every chance you get because you’re afraid of me. But you can’t even do that right!” Another punch. The damn mirror won’t break.
“You’re insane.” It’s barely a whisper, but jock boy’s voice resonates clearly on the walls of the bathroom.
“Oh, what happened to freak? Have I been promoted?” she wonders, chuckling at the thought, but her smile falters as soon as she gets a good look at the others face.
It’s genuine fear in his eyes, but not the one she’s used to. Face to face with it, she suddenly feels sick and slowly slides down the mirror, clutching her head.
What is she doing? There’s nothing familiar about this. This isn’t the dead feeling when she lays boneless inside the bathtub and stares up at the black void. Or the high she feels when she empties out her creativity on an endless flow of paper. This isn’t even the red haze that falls over her when all she wants to do is hurt. She can’t tell anymore.
Who’s steering the ship?
I’m kind of regretting writing this, but this was the first scene that popped into my mind after listening to the song, which is amazing by the way. Really love the artist.
It’s 563 words. Tried my best to trim it down, hope that’s okay.
Last edited by a moderator:
ArtisticVicu
Member
They relished the feeling of the reset, enjoying the knowledge that no one save for two souls knew what they were doing. But a part of them was getting tired.
Bored.
There was nothing for them to do. No matter how many times they went through the actions, no matter how many times they did something “different” with the limited choices presented to them, there were only three results and none of them – none of them – set them free.
They watched as their weapon slid through the next target, not understanding. They had done this so many times and so few ever truly fought them. Even fighting one of the two that had knowledge of the resets had become predictable.
Their hand stilled. Had they been at this that long? Long enough that they knew each and every move of that final battle, of every battle?
They brought their weapon down with a sneer, finishing off the target. Pathetic. Wiping themselves off, they started towards the next target. Fine then. If nothing was going to change, they were going to make it change.
They went through the motions, ignoring the words spoken to them. They found their hands and clothing covered in the remains of their targets like times before but it did nothing. There was no disgust, no remorse. Not even when they stood before the one that remembered, the one that was the Judge.
As per the norm, the Judge started talking but they had heard it so many times they could quote him. So, instead, they attacked.
There was a jerking sensation, accompanied by the feeling of being torn apart. They gasped for breath, finding that they were on their back staring at the ceiling in the hall, golden light still pouring in. They got up with a grunt, flinching from the pain that remained. Across the hall, the Judge was standing, eyesockets black holes.
“what did you do, kid?” he asked, his voice gravelly. “what was that?”
They smirked. Aw, so they changed it. They attempted to attack again before the Judge could speak again.
It happened again.
They didn’t hesitate, just got up and threw their body at the Judge still standing there, hands in the pockets of his jacket and eyesockets blank, black holes.
Again and again the event occurred. They screamed in frustration, gaining a reaction from the Judge. He took half a step back.
They turned, glaring at him. He didn’t react. They attacked. The event happened again. They slammed their weapon into the floor, cracking the stone. They were not going to be controlled by this new limit. They were not going to let this occur. Turning with eyes blazing red, they readied their weapon and attacked the Judge.
Words: 458
Bored.
There was nothing for them to do. No matter how many times they went through the actions, no matter how many times they did something “different” with the limited choices presented to them, there were only three results and none of them – none of them – set them free.
They watched as their weapon slid through the next target, not understanding. They had done this so many times and so few ever truly fought them. Even fighting one of the two that had knowledge of the resets had become predictable.
Their hand stilled. Had they been at this that long? Long enough that they knew each and every move of that final battle, of every battle?
They brought their weapon down with a sneer, finishing off the target. Pathetic. Wiping themselves off, they started towards the next target. Fine then. If nothing was going to change, they were going to make it change.
They went through the motions, ignoring the words spoken to them. They found their hands and clothing covered in the remains of their targets like times before but it did nothing. There was no disgust, no remorse. Not even when they stood before the one that remembered, the one that was the Judge.
As per the norm, the Judge started talking but they had heard it so many times they could quote him. So, instead, they attacked.
There was a jerking sensation, accompanied by the feeling of being torn apart. They gasped for breath, finding that they were on their back staring at the ceiling in the hall, golden light still pouring in. They got up with a grunt, flinching from the pain that remained. Across the hall, the Judge was standing, eyesockets black holes.
“what did you do, kid?” he asked, his voice gravelly. “what was that?”
They smirked. Aw, so they changed it. They attempted to attack again before the Judge could speak again.
It happened again.
They didn’t hesitate, just got up and threw their body at the Judge still standing there, hands in the pockets of his jacket and eyesockets blank, black holes.
Again and again the event occurred. They screamed in frustration, gaining a reaction from the Judge. He took half a step back.
They turned, glaring at him. He didn’t react. They attacked. The event happened again. They slammed their weapon into the floor, cracking the stone. They were not going to be controlled by this new limit. They were not going to let this occur. Turning with eyes blazing red, they readied their weapon and attacked the Judge.
Words: 458
JujuBee
Pettiest Bitch Out There
Everyone on here writes so freaking well. If we all got together in a rp it would be magical.
KiKi Kitsune
The Fire Panda Fairy
OKAY! Wow, there was such a great turn out! So many amazing entries, how am I meant to choose QAQ I am really nitpicking here because you all made such amazing entries
@LifeNovel
Your piece fits the prompt really well with the werewolf view. It got its message of emotions across succinctly. My only suggestion is to keep to either first or third person. The sudden change was quite jarring,.
@S n o w
I really like how you show the difference in time. It's possible to see how her sanity seems to be slipping. The only real "problem" (not actually a problem, just my preference) would be that no time is spent in the present compared to the memories.
@fliptheclown
The view from the supposed "monster" (with lack of better words at this late hour), is a great twist. That Alamar achieved his goal and realised that it was far from what he expected is a tragedy that always makes a story interesting. My nitpicking: maybe a little~ more detail. I don't quite get why there were poppies floating around
@SepiaInk
You set an amazing scene with characters that I would love to see more of. It really feels like I just opened a book when reading that and I would love to continue. However, I don't quite understand what was going on. It feels like you had a lot of ideas and not enough words to express them.
@asharasahara
I am getting major Untertale vibes from your piece, which is cool 'cause I love the game. The use of "they" as a pronoun really fits with this prompt, so great choice there. I am a bit confused as to what happens near the end. A little more detail to that part would have helped IMO.
AND NOW FOR THE WINNER!
The fact that they were siblings really got me XD. Looking forward to your prompt
@LifeNovel
Your piece fits the prompt really well with the werewolf view. It got its message of emotions across succinctly. My only suggestion is to keep to either first or third person. The sudden change was quite jarring,.
@S n o w
I really like how you show the difference in time. It's possible to see how her sanity seems to be slipping. The only real "problem" (not actually a problem, just my preference) would be that no time is spent in the present compared to the memories.
@fliptheclown
The view from the supposed "monster" (with lack of better words at this late hour), is a great twist. That Alamar achieved his goal and realised that it was far from what he expected is a tragedy that always makes a story interesting. My nitpicking: maybe a little~ more detail. I don't quite get why there were poppies floating around
@SepiaInk
You set an amazing scene with characters that I would love to see more of. It really feels like I just opened a book when reading that and I would love to continue. However, I don't quite understand what was going on. It feels like you had a lot of ideas and not enough words to express them.
@asharasahara
I am getting major Untertale vibes from your piece, which is cool 'cause I love the game. The use of "they" as a pronoun really fits with this prompt, so great choice there. I am a bit confused as to what happens near the end. A little more detail to that part would have helped IMO.
AND NOW FOR THE WINNER!
The fact that they were siblings really got me XD. Looking forward to your prompt
Flip
Frightfully funny, frightfully friendly
Oh wow, thank you!! Thank you so much for the critique; it is the truth that I struggle with balancing too much detail with too little detail. It is something I will continue to work on!
Another song, I know, but I love song prompts heh. A little change from the rather melancholy themes :>
PROMPT
SONG: "Animal" By Neon Trees
Length: Up to 500 words
Hint: I love twists and unexpected takes on the prompt, and creatively-structured prose that invokes a lot of emotion.
END: 20 hours from timestamp of this post
Good luck!
Another song, I know, but I love song prompts heh. A little change from the rather melancholy themes :>
PROMPT
SONG: "Animal" By Neon Trees
Length: Up to 500 words
Hint: I love twists and unexpected takes on the prompt, and creatively-structured prose that invokes a lot of emotion.
END: 20 hours from timestamp of this post
Good luck!
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cadence
in a quiet garden
I love this song so much. 
LennyTheMemeGod
The Quackling Cat
(This looks fun as fuck. Is it too late to join?)
cadence
in a quiet garden
Lenny's here! Nah. It's never too late to join.
Life.
Forever Wandering
Lol it was actually dog with rabies. But I guess that wasn't clear enough on my part.
LennyTheMemeGod
The Quackling Cat
I don't have time to participate now, but I'll make sure to participate in the next round!
ArtisticVicu
Member
Yeah, it was Undertale. And the end was left ambiguous for a reason.
Thank you for the reply, though. I'll keep in mind that ambiguous endings don't work well around here.
ArtisticVicu
Member
She grabbed his arm and yanked back, preventing him from being ran over by a car. She raised her fist at the driver that had honked at them and shouted, “We have the right of way, asshole!”
“Rose,” he chuckled, fixing his glasses as he started walking again. She fell into step beside him, her hand falling from his arm. “Calm down. They didn’t hit me.”
She gave him a flat look. “I don’t care. We had the right of way in the crosswalk. It that impatient little fu-”
“Rose,” he tried again, his voice tighter. She looked to him, defensive. His expression belayed the edge in his voice, though. He gave her a soft smile. “Drop it.”
She sighed, looking away. “Fine.”
He grinned at her, settling their schoolbags on his shoulder. “Thanks, Rose.”
She relaxed, smiling in return. They walked in silence for some time, just enjoying each other’s company and the scenery. She glanced towards him, her thoughts curious. “Hey, about last night…”
His face darken, suddenly defensive. “Don’t worry about it. It won’t happen again.”
She frowned and grabbed his shoulder. “What? Why?”
He looked at her, almost horrified. “What do you mean why? I forced myself upon you in an inebriated state. I was in no place to have done that with you and you should not have been put into that situation.”
“You weren’t drunk.”
His expression turned flat. “Yes I was.”
“No, you weren’t,” she countered sharply. “And I asked. You agreed.”
He tried to deny it. “But I cannot hold my liquor like you can. And it was just one night. That doesn’t mean-”
She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him to her, kissing him. He bristled out of shock before he buried his free hand in her hair, kissing her back. When they separate, she huffed out a laugh, teasing, “Dork.”
He smiled at her. “I’m your dork, though.”
“Always,” she agreed readily, beaming. Her expression calmed a bit. “Now, will you let me ask you to be my boyfriend or are you going to bounce around that too?”
He laughed. “No. I’ll be your boyfriend.”
“Good.” She linked their arms and started walking again. He fell into step beside his childhood friend, now girlfriend, with a soft smile. “Because I really don’t want a different dork.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
They didn’t see the truck.
He jerked awake with a gasp, scrambling into a sitting position as he tried to breathe, his body shaking and tears streaming down his face. He pressed the heel of his hand into his eyes, trying to rid himself of the memory. It had been years.
He moved to the edge of the bed and he heaved himself into his wheelchair. He drowned a glass of water at the bathroom sink as soft footfall came up behind him. An arm wrapped around his shoulders and he met their gaze in the mirror. Even after all this time, he could not let Rose go.
Words: 500
Flip
Frightfully funny, frightfully friendly
@asharasahara, OH MY GOSSSH, CRYING, I THOUGHT THIS PROMPT WOULD GET HAPPY PROSE BUT YOU MADE IT SO TRAGIC GAAAAHHHHHHHH
There aren't any other submissions, but you probably would have won even if there were, oh my gosh. Please choose the next prompt while I cry.
There aren't any other submissions, but you probably would have won even if there were, oh my gosh. Please choose the next prompt while I cry.
LennyTheMemeGod
The Quackling Cat
Good news! My RP schedule is pretty clear, so I'll definitely be able to participate in the next round/prompt!
Physiicz
Sad Boy Status
This is such a good idea 
I have a pretty good prompt. How would I go about submitting my prompt?
@fliptheclown
I have a pretty good prompt. How would I go about submitting my prompt?@fliptheclown
Flip
Frightfully funny, frightfully friendly
@Physiicz, to submit a prompt you have to win the round! so when Asharasahara posts their next prompt, write something for it, and then if they choose you as winner you get to pick the next one.
However, if you really want to, you could make another writing game thread! I think it'd be fun if there were two threads going on. It would give more people a chance to win and play their own prompts, and also give anxious writers more chances to write!
However, if you really want to, you could make another writing game thread! I think it'd be fun if there were two threads going on. It would give more people a chance to win and play their own prompts, and also give anxious writers more chances to write!
Physiicz
Sad Boy Status
I mean I'm not the best at keeping threads alive but I could try. I'll definitely go for the next one
That Lass Over There
Constant Panic
I'm crying at all the song prompts.
At the very least, do pieces, not songs~ This poor one will rot away~ T.T
At the very least, do pieces, not songs~ This poor one will rot away~ T.T
