Red Lettering

Stories will not be written easily. A story without a heart is dead, and the only place it will get a heart is from the author.

Writing Prompt: 11/20/2015

Origin: by Faith Song. For once, I do know this artist, and you can feel free to look at any of her art that you might happen to find. It will all be clean.

Feeling inspired? Write something inspired by this prompt! You can leave a response in the comments, or move the prompt to your blog and leave a link in the comments! I would love to read what you come up with. Do keep everything clean; there are a few younger readers who look through the pages of this blog.

Fourth writing prompt in a row. This is record, even for me. :p Apologies, dear readers. Life tends to get in the way of things. I will have this blog running at full-speed again eventually; I hope to get a chance to work on in December, after NaNoWriMo is over. For those of you other writers doing NaNo, how goes it with you?

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17 thoughts on “Writing Prompt: 11/20/2015

  1. That’s okay! I understand busyness! And my NaNo is going great! I’m slightly behind, but still okay! You??

  2. “Stop shooting! Stop now!” Tiff shouted, her voice high.
    The six hunters stopped shooting, but they kept their assortment of guns pointed at the alien who had wandered into the wrong patch of forest.
    The alien, which looked like some sort of werewolf monster, cowered in a low spot behind a tree.
    Had it been hurt? Tiff stalked toward it, her own pistol at her side.
    The alien lifted its head. It didn’t look hurt, not too much of a surprise. These creatures were inhumanly fast.
    Tiff stopped a few body-lengths from the alien. “Sorry about the lousy greeting. Some people here tend to freak out.”
    “Shoot it,” Neal, one of the most outspoken in the hunting party snapped.
    The alien stood slowly and brushed off its leather shirt. “That’s a new one. I don’t think I’ve ever been greeted with ‘shoot it’ before.”
    “It talks?” Jen, the youngest gasped.
    The alien’s ears perked. “You seriously thought we could fly spaceships but language was beyond us?”
    “Will you just get out of the way so I can shoot it?” Neal demanded.
    Tiff glared at him. “Do you guys have any idea what will happen if we gun this alien down? You’ll tick off their friends, then we’ll be chow.”
    The alien’s ears drooped slightly. “We don’t eat humans, but the girl is right.” It pointed at Tiff. “If I go missing, my tribe will hunt you down. You let me go, promise not to shoot at us, and we’ll leave you alone. Sound good?”
    “It’s lying,” Neal said. “Better shoot it. We’ll have more time.”
    Tiff stayed between them. Was there any way to end this well?
    “Firstly, I’m female.” The alien shrugged. “Secondly, if you want to play games, you should know we don’t hunt alone, and we’re better shots than you are.” The last words came out with a slight growl.
    Tiff’s neck prickled. She was being watched. They all were.

  3. Nice prompt, that could end up an interesting story.
    I’m struggling with NaNo. As in not doing it. 😦

  4. I know this is my own prompt, but I’m going to write something from it anyways. xP

    The two young adult humans approach me cautiously, the male one holding a pistol, and the female holding a slightly curved sword. Another matching sword rests at her waist.
         I look up at them silently. They do not see me. I can tell this by how their eyes search the area for any possible enemies. And because they don’t stare. Humans have a horrible habit of staring.
        The male’s eyes fix on a spot above my head, and I glance upward at the ornate gold colored lock which my energy is attached to.
         I am not sure I like how he looks at it.
            “How do we get through the lock?” He whispers.
    The young woman glances at him, annoyance clearly written across her features. “Shoot it.”
        He looks at her for a moment, and then cocks his gun.
       Why was it not cocked before? They are very much not prepared.
    After a moment’s hesitation, he points the gun at my lock, and I realize what he plans to do.
        I stand, making myself visible.
    They freeze, their eyes wide. Their eyes are so ugly. Not a hint of gold in them at all.
    Shaking my head, I shove the thought aside and tilt my head up to look at them. “That’s a new one.” I fold my hands behind my back, bestowing on them my most charming smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever been greeted with ‘shoot it’ before.”
        They stare. Nasty habit, that.
           “…Who are you?” The girl asks, her grip on the sword loosening.
    I tilt my head to one side. “My name is Airi, and I’m a Lock.” I gesture to the gold lock on the door. “That’s mine.”
    They stare down at me for a moment without speaking.
    I huff. “A Lock? As in, my energy is keeping this vault from opening?”
    The man cocks his head a bit. “So you’re some sort of guard?”
    I shrug, smiling a bit. “Except much nicer looking.” I pause a moment. “Would you stop staring?”
    The man shakes his head a bit, his brow wrinkling. “So you’re going to keep us from getting in?”
    “Yup, pretty much.”
    The girl’s grip tightened on her sword, and she frowned. “But… You’re only a kid.”
    I cross my arms. “I am not a goat. I am a Lock. Aren’t you listening?”
    “A child, then.” She retorts. “You couldn’t be older than ten.”
    I grin. “I’m older than ten.”
    “Whatever. How are you going to stop us?”
    I shrug. “Easy. You can’t get through that lock while I’m alive, and you can’t kill me.”
    She stares at me for a moment, then glances at the young man. He meets her gaze and then turns and fires at the lock. I pull back away from it as the bullet shatters. Pain shoots through my gut, but I hold still until it fades and do not let them tell.
    The lock gleams brighter, as if polished, but is unharmed.
    They stare at me silently for a moment, and then the man speaks. “Why are you keeping us out?”
    I shrug, sliding down into a sitting position, my back against the door. “It’s my job.”

  5. Gimen’s static voice burst into my communication device, jarring me from my thoughts.
    “Klassen, the Serric platoon has been spotted. It should be coming your way any minute now. Are you ready?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    There was a pause. Then Gimen spoke again.
    “It’s alright, Klassen. You can do this.”
    It was hardly helpful to hear Gimen trying to be comforting in his monotone way. He was a Gua. The Gua didn’t understand emotions such as fear; just as the Serric weren’t so familiar with the concept of negotiation. The only reason Gimen knew my tension was by measuring my heartbeat through his monitor, and the only reason he was doing that was to know I was alive, and if I would remain alive for much longer.
    I heard the rumble of feet and machinery, and presently the platoon came around the bend. I breathed a quick prayer and stepped into view, hands raised.
    The Serric 1st Lieutenant straightened to his full height, his luminescent mane made huge as he flared it in surprise.
    “Intruder! Shoot it!” He barked.
    That’s a new one. I don’t think I’d been greeted by ‘shoot it’ before. But I was expecting it, and was prepared. I threw myself to the ground in time to miss a torrent of bullets. Just as quickly, I rolled to the side and up onto one knee. I lifted my hands behind my head in a gesture of submission.
    “Hold fire! I come peacefully! Hold fire!”
    The 1st Lieutenant examined me with squinting white eyes. His claw-tipped finger was ready on the trigger.
    “And why should I?” He snarled.
    “Here’s one reason,” I said, and removed my helmet. I wouldn’t be able to breathe the atmosphere for long, but I could risk taking off my helmet just long enough to catch the Serric’s attention, and I did.
    Many of them drew back in surprise, but the 1st Lieutenant leaned forward, his eyes suddenly wide.
    “Impossible!” He gasped
    I was used to these sorts of reactions. Over the years I’ve learned to have my fun with them, and would have responded ‘only on Tuesdays’ with a deadpan blink. But this encounter required tact.
    “Yes, I’m a genuine human,” I rasped. The tangy air was already burning my lungs.
    “I have a message for you, 1st Lieutenant. It’s urgent.”

  6. hey! I sent you your writing prompt it should be in your inbox.

  7. Hey! Miss Hale i sent you your writing prompt. : )

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