Places to Chat
Take a bullet
Chatterbox: Inkwell
Take a bullet
Take a bullet and RUN WITH IT!!
Stretch it out as much as you can, turn it into a multi-chaptered story, write a poem about it, tell it from different perspectives, combine two different prompts into one, ANYTHING! Even if you have to squint to make the prompt make sense, DO IT! All in the name of creativity and inspiration!
Please just say which one(s) you're using, and donate a few bullets if you have the chance! :)
Here's the first few for reference:
> Stolen identity
> 'Weren't we supposed to be friends?'
> 'It's like the whole world has gone mad. What do we do now?'
> Molten rock churned, burbling and pretending to breath fire itself, under the watchful eye of the ______. Nothing had happened. Yet.
> A solemn toll struck into the grey mist. At first, it was just one, but soon the bells' tune had swelled to a chorus, riding the somber taste of the rain as if they were atop the black horses leading the funeral hearse.
> 'That was in your past life, though. Neither of you are the same people you were in that life, nor do you have the same relationship or circumstances. Why take that chance now? What if it ruins everything we have here, in this life?"
> The tattered red-bound book lie slanted on the flaky, green lopsided shelf. It's pages were torn and yellowed, with dog-ears and ancient markings -- scars left behind by dribbled and smeared ink -- perhaps even with a coffee spill or two. But that didn't matter to ________.
Good luck and happy writing! Ciao~
submitted by Jaybells, age Obscure, Lost in the Universe
(February 28, 2022 - 12:09 am)
(February 28, 2022 - 12:09 am)
(This is someone else's perspective, but still the same world as above, and a new prompt)
Electronic countermeasures had blocked our radar signals. Not the most promising start to a highly classified stealth operation. I put the whole box of electrics, which were supposed to help with the stealth bit, into the watertight cabinet while Adrena stopped the motor and rowed the boat the last few feet to the SkyScraper. The air-pollution-mitigation building looked so glassy and important, and coupled with the fact that it had issued the countermeasures "to combat the high amount of particulate matter this week", it felt like they already knew what we were doing. Adrena then stopped rowing.
"Well," she said, "this is it."
"How are we supposed to get into that thing?" I tell her.
"Remember about the underground?"
"I know, but..." I faltered. "I don't want to look for the pipe."
"Come on, Leira. Think of it as doing it for someone else's sake." I thought of my grandmother, Tina, and my cousin, Cass. Tina disappeared into this building; if Cass had to look for her, then she would disappear too. "Now get into your wetsuit." I picked up the giant wetsuit and put it on, then strapped on my goggles. Adrena, calm and smooth as ever, slid into the water, me following. She was sixteen years old and I was only fourteen, but we had been coupled as a unit. Gone through investigative school together. And now it seemed like she was breaking away. Sliding past. Not wanting to be in a unit with someone two years younger. Not wanting me anymore.
I took a huge breath and went into the water. The pipe's inlet was right there, and I swam into it. It was still wet and my lungs were bursting for about twenty feet, then suddenly there was a sharp upward turn and then I was in a concrete tank instead of a rusted metal pipe. I kicked to the surface to find myself in a tiny pool. Then I hoisted myself out and took off my goggles. Adrena was sitting there.
"Okay," she said.
"Do we rescue Tina and have that be it? Or do we try and expose them as well?" I asked.
"We rescue Tina," she said. "The room that she's supposed to be in is number 64, which is the sixth floor and the fourth room." We went towards the sign that read ELEVATOR, our bare feet leaving footprints on the ground. Adrena pressed the button to call the elevator, the doors opened, she pushed the one that said 6 and we were off. We finally reached the sixth level and got out, then walked along the hallway. The doors were so far apart that the rooms behind them seemed like they were endless.
Other footsteps sounded. I listened, knowing it was one pair and wondering where to hide, when suddenly the stepper rounded the corner. It was tall and white, a robot with cameras where its eyes should have been. I froze as it approached, descending swiftly into the uncanny valley of degraded human instead of upgraded machine.
Adrena, however, didn't freeze.
"Where is Fiorentina Fishskins?" she asked it.
"Room four, floor six," it said in a strange, calm, not-quite-human voice.
"Please forget this conversation," she said.
The machine nodded and continued to walk away. We walked to a room that had the number 4 on it and then realized that there were voices. Quickly, I ran around the corner, fear filling my brain.
"Adrena," I whispered. "Who do you think of when you do these things?"
"What?" she says. "Oh. Yeah. Right. My brother, Braeden."
(December 29, 2022 - 4:52 pm)
I'd wondered if this thread was going to be neglected; I'm glad it's not!
--
Cass's perspective
I had everything I needed--just the calendar--to rescue my great-aunt. However, Braeden had other ideas. He insisted on coming over with pizza to chat the day before I planned to visit the SkyScrapers and request that the people hand over Fiorentina Fishskins, because they were violating Free Speech and Investigation Code 9609, which stated "do not impound anyone attempting investigation unless they are committing crimes".
"Hi," said Braeden as he jumped off a moped, of all things. "I brought pizza. How are you going to rescue your great-aunt?"
"Aunty Tina?" I asked him, not the happiest that he showed up, decided to give me pizza, and planned on interrogating me. "I know how to go into a building and yell at people. It's easy."
"You're going to use FSAI Code 9609?"
"It's the law," I said. I was still outside and he was still sitting sideways on his moped to face me.
"The SkyScrapers are operated by the city government," said Braeden. "Governments can brush away their own laws so they don't have to handcuff themselves. And anyways, Cass?"
"Yeah?"
"Come." I wandered down the lawn, crossed the sidewalk, and stood on the curb.
"My sister is going on a rescue mission with Arielleira Leith-Fishskins. And Fiorentina is at the head of the investigators' society. So I'm betting that they're bringing her back."
"Your family is in the IS?" Mine was too. Arielleira (Leira, as everyone called her) was my cousin.
"Of course, and I have to admit, I'm scared. Sometimes, people don't come back."
-----
Leira's perspective
"Sometimes, people don't come back demanding a removal," said one of the voices in the hall. "But if anyone asks about Fiorentina Fishskins to the robots, make sure they activate fac-reg software and incapacitate the askers."
"Will do, Mr. Bixler," said one of the people. We'd managed not to see them, yet, and they were heading away from us now.
"I really appreciate your support in this, Tech Operator Lisker."
"Thanks for the compliment, Boss B." They turned a corner, and then Adrena tried the lock on the door. It was open. We walked in and then realized that there was no way out: the pool that we'd seen before was about two stories below us and the nearest surface, and then there were two platforms. We stood on one. On the other, Tina cowered. We couldn't reach her, so we couldn't give her dive gear as planned.
"Do you want out, Grandma?" My voice carries.
"Yes," her voice carries back. She sounds much older than normal.
"We'll have to shoot the window," says Adrena. She pulls a crossbow out of the bag. "Stand to the side of the window, Ms. F." She threads the bow and shoots it. It hits the window, which shatters. "Now go."
"But..." Grandma started to protest.
I heard more voices. One was evenly measured and robotic. One wasn't.
"We'll check on Fiorentina, of course," said one voice.
"Jump!" Adrena sounded panicky.
"Do good in the world," said Grandma. I had no idea why she said that then. Now I have an awfully clear one.
"Jump into the pool!" Adrena readied herself in a dive. I did too, and then we reached the concrete pool. I took one big breath and swam out the pipe, then we got into the boat. I steered towards where Grandma floated, eerily still.
"Why isn't she moving?" said Adrena.
-----
One week later
Cass's perspective
The reunion is much more like a funeral. Everyone is there, and no one is happy. Leira blames herself, but in the whole society's mind, Adrena is at fault. The words--But I don't swim, but I will drown, but I will probably break my bones--that she covered with the screechy word "Jump" hang on everyone's face. Adrena isn't here. Braeden is, though.
"How is she?" I ask him.
"Adrena...isn't very okay. Keeps crying, stuff like that. Do you have a place to live yet?"
I had lived with Aunty Tina.
"I'm moving in with you and your sister."
"Great. Also, X gave me this."
"Xandra?"
Xandra was the head of the Investigators' Society. Everyone called her X. Braeden opened a manila envelope printed with just fourteen words:
Dear Braeden and Cass,
You have to go back to the SkyScrapers for Tina.
"X said it," I say. "It's official."
"We're ending it," said Braeden. "For her."
The End.
(March 18, 2023 - 8:33 pm)
> "A demon trapped in human skin"* (basically like a wolf trapped in sheep's fur)
> "Raindrops that explode like ____ upon hitting the ground"
> Laughter paired with different scenarios (as a child is born, as a kingdom burns, as tears fall from another's face)
> Crying paired with different scenarios (Bonus points if you never explicitly state why, or only do so at the very end! ;>)
(August 8, 2022 - 10:00 pm)
Using star's prompt!~ (shining star)
(please note that this might be a lil scary)
____________________________
Water
dripped from my chains.... or maybe it was blood?
I
looked over at Charlie. His throat was silt, and he was barely breathing.
I stifled a small sob. Suddenly, the door to the basement opened. He stood at
the top of the stairs, breathing heavily. I growled. He was the cause of this. He
slit Charlie’s throat. How could he do this to us? We didn't even do anything! He
slowly walked down the steps, making them creak loudly. I wished I could choke
him to death. he finally got to the bottom of the steps and made his way over
to me. he grinned, ice blue eyes gleaming. "Finally awake I see." he
said, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Get the heck away from me." He
grinned wider, getting closer until I could feel his breath on my face. I
resisted the urge to spit on him. He cackled. I kept my silver eyes on him,
glaring. Charlie let out a small whimper. The man’s eyes flicked to Charlie. He
looked back at me. This man…...this man was not human. There was no way he was
human. A human being could never do this
to two kids. No. way. The man took a few
steps back, examining me. But then, in a flash he lunged for my throat. He grasped
my throat making me hiss.” get off! - “He gripped tighter, so tight that my
vison blurred. I let out a whimper as I tried to get away from him. He slammed
my head into the wall. I felt dizzy. “S-Sini” Charlie croaked. The man finally
let go. He turned to Charlie. “D-don’t you dare touch him!” I shouted. He
turned to me and grinned. He suddenly ran towards the steps. He shut the door
with a slam. I could hear a revving of a chainsaw faintly. and at that point, i thought it was over....
__________________________
it's a lil creepy but i'm proud of it! ^^
(October 8, 2022 - 7:46 pm)
MoonKitten's prompt- "Legally, I don't exist. / That's why I'm the perfect spy. / ...Yeah, right."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Legally, I don't exist.
Mother a Litkin and father a Duskspurn -- who would ever condone such a miserable combination? Much less believe that their relationship could last long enough to have a child, right? Yeah. Someone like me couldn't possibly exist in a world like this.
That's why I'm the perfect spy. ...At least, in theory. As part of the royal under-guard (essentially the secret police) it's crucial to be invisible. To blend in anywhere and everywhere all at once, yet belong nowhere in the end. What could be a more perfect position for me?
Well, consider the fact that the most important part of being the "secret police" is being, well, secret. And with the youngest princess constantly on my tail, my job has become a lot more challenging.
~~~~~~~~~~
I do plan to continue this! No promises on when, though, knowing myself and my aversion to posting on time... Anyway, kempe know what you think so far!
(February 17, 2023 - 10:22 pm)
(March 1, 2023 - 10:10 am)
I don't know if anybody has used Jaybell's bullet about the molten rock yet, but I might. Heres a few:
> Yesterday, my brother/sister/sibling murdered me.
> Apparently dinosaurs like to wear top hats.
> I burped. And then the world exploded.
(March 1, 2023 - 1:15 pm)
Right, taking Hunter's prompt here, but this might actually be double or triple dipping... Just a small flashback from a oc.
Prompt: >A maniacal laugh rang through the silence. High, crazy. Broken.(I got inspired from scrolling through a bunch of prompts, this is just one.)
That night, lying with his hands folded to the back of his head, Fern failed to sleep. He stared up at the roof of the dorms, scenes of his past life dancing in front of him, sliding and shifting, until all that was left was Elen's handsome face.
About this person, Fern had never understood what he had been thinking when he first met him under the black Watchtower.
He was the only mentor in MoonCloud who wasn't wearing a gray robe.
That day, he had been musing over a small piece of armor. He looked so intent and relaxed, resembling a calm, composed white cat.
As Fern watched him from afar, he became utterly fixated.
He thought that he had a really good impression of Elen.
But it didn't change the elemental's coldness, or unfreeze any of his emotions. The white cat hissed and spat, covering Fern with scratches.
Ever since Fern had been saved from certain death by Aurora and brought to MoonCloud, he had hoped to find a caring mentor, one to actually look out for him.
Yet Elen saw none of his efforts to improve, the only thing greeting Fern each time he stepped out of line being a flurry of painful lashes. It was only much later did he finally realize-
Elen never thought of him as a equal.
"Rotten wood is uncarvable." That was how the white-cloaked elemental under the maple tree thought of him, wasn't it?
Fern had set Elen's place in his heart as untouchable as the silver moon, which he poured his heart out to completely, trusting and loving.
But what was he to the silver moon?
A pupil who he had no other choice but to teach.
A shameless, outlandish boy.
A extract from the lowest level of society.
Even though Fern continued to laugh and smile, deep in his heart, the seed of hate grew.
He never wanted to admit it.
In the past, he had, with a immense passion of discontent, tried to raise Elen's intrest, to get some response, to obtain even a small word of praise.
Fern never did. No matter what he did, Elen would only nod and turn his back to him, again and again.
Fern felt himself going mad. Only the heavens knew how many times he wanted to grab Elen by his shoulders, to force him to look back, to force that "Rotten wood" back into his mouth!
Yet he could do nothing but bow tremblingly, "Yes sir, I shall never forget".
In the end, he had to admit the truth, that Elen never would take him as one of his own.
Many things happened after that. Fern took power of MoonCloud, then became leader of the continent, first ruler of millenia. No one ever dared to speak his name in public, and NO one ever would remember his faults, his embarrasments... no one would.
Fernadier Time was dead. Only Fernadier Shard remained, lord, king, ruler.
Fern felt vindicated, as he sat on his throne looking over all his subjects. Terribly vindicated.
Until he caught sight of Elen in the midst of the crowd.
Fern's mentor had already been robbed of his powers now, just a common prisoner. Fern had made the decision to execute him much earlier, but he didn't want the elemental to go swiftly. A small cut in his neck with an enchantment to stop blood clotting was enough. Life dripped away, bit by bit. It was why Fern arranged his crowning to take place in tandem with execution. When he finally would become king, the past would also leave him, forever.
Every single bit of his past, gone to the wind. Perfect.
Yet this person wore no terror in impending death. He only gazed, face pale and emotionless, straight at Fern with no fear at all. Just disgust, coldness... and pity.
Fern felt that either he was going mad, or Elen was. A prisoner, pitying him! Ruler of the continent! How-how dare he! Years of suppressed anger boiled up inside Fern's heart. He rose to pace his way to the clearing where Elen was chained. In front of everyone standing at the palace grounds, Fern grabbed his mentor's chin. He smiled, a sweet and terrible smile. "Sir, it's such a big day for your pupil, what's with the long face?"
Silence.
Elen glared up at Fern, attitude unchanged. "I have no pupil named Fernadier."
A maniacal laugh rang through the silence. High, crazy. Broken. It sang over trees like a band of vultures, birds scattering at the noise. "Sir, you saying such things here really crashes the party for me." Fern kept laughing. "If I'm not your pupil, then where would I have learned my abilties? My powers? Who taught me to hide myself? To be merciless? The scarrs on my back-from whose hand did they come from?" The smile dissapeared, being replaced by cold fury. "Pharma Elen! Are you still unsatisfied with a pupil like me? Am I still the scum below all？I want to ask you, Elen: What did you mean by 'rotten wood is uncarvable'? Answer me!"
He did start to lose himself at the end, face contorting. "You never thought of me as your pupil! I once looked up to you, did you know? I once loved you like my father, but what did you give me? Why couldn't you ever accept me, why that no matter what I did, you would never give me one word of praise?"
Elen shuddered, lowering his already-pale face. He moved his lips, forming words that never came out.
Silence fell over the palace grounds.
In the middle of Shamelin forest, the student and mentor faced off wordlessly.
Fern seemed to calm down once more as silence dragged on. He closed his blazing green eyes, then opened them again. A new smile crept onto his face. "Sir." He whispered gently. "Didn't you think I was worthless? Now look." Fern waved a hand at his ammased subjects. "How about now? I ask you one more time before you die, do you still believe in your impressions on me?"
Elen didn't look up, as if still shocked by Fern's sudden outburst. Not waiting, Fern forced his head up. But when he stared into Elen's face, he stopped.
For the first time in his life, Fern saw heartbreak on his mentor's face. So alien was the sight, that he recoiled instinctively as though bitten bu a snake, letting go of Elen.
"Y-You..."
Elen's face betrayed a terrible pain, one that looked no lighter than torture. His voice was raspy and light, so small that only Fern heard his words before they melted into the breeze.
"Fern... It's all my fault..."
The world froze. Whispering, dripping, birdsong, they all stopped. Only Elen's face remained, the one thing Fern could see. He should feel many things. Freedom. Happiness. Satisfaction.
Fern had none of those. Only that... he was so much taller than Elen.
Time had passed.
Things had changed.
"What... what did you say?" Fern murmured. Elen only smiled back, the smile so familiar yet so alien to Fernadier Time. In his mentor's blue eyes, Fern thought he saw his own contorted features.
Then the eyes closed, and Elen fell- but Fern caught him in an instant.
Another furious wail rang out over the palace grounds. "What did you say, Elen? I DARE YOU TO SAY IT AGAIN!"
The person in his arms did not answer. However, his expression, forever cold in Fern's memory froze on one last, bittersweet smile, lips only slightly curved.
The same smile Fern saw below the Watchtower when they first met.
(March 3, 2023 - 9:52 am)
...whoa.
(March 30, 2023 - 6:59 pm)
Some prompts:
(March 3, 2023 - 7:55 pm)
My sister’s headstone is at the very edge of the graveyard, squeezed in with the plots of my smooth and his ancestors. The earth is still a muddy brown, grass not yet having set in.
The funeral was only a few hours ago. I didn't go. Not really. My body went, the guests saw me graciously accepting condolences, eyes red but cheeks dry, the perfectly composed mourner. But inside, I was far away, trying desperately to escape the endless stream of well-meaning but unhelpful words.
Now I stand before my sister's plot, listening to the noises of the passersby on the other side of the fence. The winter winds whisper their comforts, but it only numbs me further. I drop to my knees, tears suddenly streaming. The headstone is cold. Hard. Moving my parched lips, I can only whisper to the indifferent people passing by, "Anyone… just bury me with her, please…"
They don't listen, they don't hear. Why should they? And yet, some resentment breaks through my grief. My sister was my lifeline, my safety net. Without her I am falling, drowning, and they don't care. They can't fix it and they won't end it, for who would help a stranger in need of so much?
I let out a strangled gasp that almost doesn't sound like me. I feel so selfish in my bitterness for the pedestrians so removed from me. And more than that, I moved so quickly from mourning my sister's loss to mine. I lost a companion, and she lost everything. And yet I still beg for my own needs? Pathetic, I tell myself.
"Sister… I am sorry. I don't know how to go on without you. I'm so lost. I'm sorry. Please, help me…"
I plead for forgiveness, for guidance, long into the night, after the city has quieted and my sister's ghost has failed to appear in the night.
A final plea falls from my lips and I rise, numb with cold. “I am sorry,” I whisper again, and I leave as the sun breaks the horizon.
(March 8, 2023 - 8:25 pm)
(March 11, 2023 - 8:32 pm)
Some bullets! They're all flexible, you don't have to use the exact wording and you can change whatever you want.
> I don't know if you've ever had your heart thaumaturgically (magically) removed from your chest and put through a paper shredder, but it hurts.
> "I don't like to lie... but I don't have much choice, do I?"
> And that was when a chair fell out of the sky and burped at me.
(March 24, 2023 - 7:31 am)
~It is quite hard to walk inconspicously when your friend insists upon carrying a six foot tall harpon.
~The bouquet had been laying their for weeks, months even. It was now rotted through, brown and stiff. Yet still it's owner would never come and retrieve. And they never would.
~Nobody knew about the rope in my handbag, yet they soon would.
Bullets for anyone who would like them :)
(March 26, 2023 - 2:32 pm)
Oooh, what a fun selection! :)
(March 27, 2023 - 8:31 pm)