Writers in Residence discussion

HELLO! Our first writing prompt! (If anyone else has one, feel free to post yours!)

You are in the mountain forest when you come face to face with the snow dragon: an adorable, furry, and surprisingly tiny creature who breathes fire.

Icy trudges up the mountain, shuffling forward, pushing the snow out of her face with the sheer force of her mind.
She has spent years trying to find this place, and now she’s finally here. The snow dragon will be hers, and no one will take her away from it.
Icy stops under a frail for tree to take a break. She brushes her pale hair from her face, and takes a small notebook from her pack. She flips trough the pages until she finds what she needs: the coordinates to the dragon’s cave.
She remembers the months she spent in her room, sitting at her wooden desk, sifting through mystical carvings and papers, breaking codes, working at night by candlelight, until finally, she found the numbers she needs.
Icy looks out into the storm raging on the mountain. Most would’ve died by now, but not her. She trained for this. She was born with the power to control water and heat (more so, the absence of it), and she has been mastering it but by bit. All she needs is the snow dragon, namely its power, to bring her to completion, to make her what she has always been destined to do.
Those words echoing in her mind, she gets up and heads back out onto the steep slope, grasping at rocks and chips of ice with thin, pale fingers, using the wind to push herself up.
Minutes, hours, later, she comes across a cave, a dark splotch against the white. Icy scrambles up onto the barren stone and stares into its depths. Pulling her light from her pack, she shines it into the black. The cave seems to stretch on for miles.
Taking a deep breath—all these years have led up to this, Icy; don’t fail—she strides into the cavern, boots clicking against the rock.
She walks down tunnel after tunnel, making sharp turns. She passes by a skeleton leaning against the wall, still wearing its clothes, looking like the person came and took a nap decades ago, never to return again.
Icy walks and walks, until, finally, she reaches a large cavernous chamber. She shines her light around it, and there, in a corner, she sees something white move.
She approaches it carefully, to not disturb it. Could this be the snow dragon? It doesn’t look big and scaly. In fact, it looks white and furry, like a cat the size of a horse, with wings, two curling white horns behind large, furry ears, and a long tail with what looks like blue crystals poking out at regular intervals.
Icy reaches a had back to her pack, intending to pull out a small crystalline bottle.
Suddenly, the dragon opens its eyes and jumps up onto its paws. Icy backs off. The dragon grunts and shoots out a blaze of blue flames that singe her skin.
Thinking quickly, Icy forms a protective barrier around her. She stretches a hand forward, trying to calm the snow dragon down. It eyes her suspiciously.
“I only need your power, nothing else,” she murmurs.
The snow dragon’s ears twitch.
“Come on,” she urges. She picks the bottle up again. “Just a little closer.”
She places her palm on the dragon’s snout. Immediately, she can feel the power rushing through her. She directs it into the bottle, and watches from the corner of her eye as it slowly turns light blue, and the dragon begins to shift to gray.
It whimpers.
“Can’t you see?” she asks, as the dragon slowly crumples to the floor. “I need this more than you do.”
The dragon lets out a small, weak sound.
“You’ll get your power back eventually.”
Soon enough, all color has left the snow dragon, and it’s becomes as gray as the walls of the cave. It closes its eyes, falling into a deep sleep.
Icy closes the bottle, and backs out of the cave.
The snow dragon’s power is hers, and now nothing can stop her from getting the throne.

Wow! Sorry that I haven't done mine yet, I'm still trying to get a few things settled for the group.
Great job on your story, Nova!

Thanks!

I'll do a new prompt every week? Saturdays?

PROMPT: finish the sentence and turn it into a short story!

"I closed my eyes. The sound of people clinking glasses was beautiful, almost like wind chimes. Why, then, did I feel so unbearably sad? When I opened my eyes and looked around the table, I saw....."

"Mrs. Anderson, looking just as sad as I was. She gave me a tear-filled smile, and reached her hand out and rested it on mine. I squeezed her hand, trying to return her smile, but the sobs crept up on me and I had to bite my tongue to keep them back. I wouldn't cry. Not here. Not now.
"'It's all right to grieve,' she told me gently.
"'I know,' I replied. "but it's just so hard to believe that he's gone. '
"All around us, the citizens of Henrysville pretended to grieve as they toasted to Samuel's sacrifice. Sure, he had won us the war, but I didn't believe that that was an equal price to pay for his life."

I closed my eyes. The sound of people clinking glasses was beautiful, almost like wind chimes. Why, then, did I feel so unbearably sad? When I opened my eyes and looked around the table, I watched everyone as they laughed jovially. So happy. So joyful. What was making me feel so opposite?
There was something wrong with this place. I couldn't quite place my finger on it, but. . . well, it felt t o o cheerful. How could they all have such wide smiles spread across their faces when something so terribly wrong was going on?
"No!" I finally said, my voice seeming to fade in the loud room of laughter. "I won't believe it! I know this can't be real, so show yourself! Whoever you are." I added that last part a little quieter as all the room tuned with their eyes on me.
A big man with a worn shirt stood, scratching the stubble on his chin, "What's wrong?" He asked, "Don't want to join us in the festivities?"
"Festivities?" I practically spat, I sounded tough, but that didn't keep me from backing up against the wall.
"Yes, miss, festivities. Celebrating the wonderful victory we have just won." He offered her a crooked smile.
I eyed everyone around the room again. Red sashes. Red banners. Red. . . "Where am I?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.
I was in the enemy's base.

I closed my eyes. The sound of people clinking glasses was beautiful, almost like wind chimes. Why, then, did I feel so unbearably sad? When I opened my eyes looked around the table, I saw no one. Just a tattered tablecloth spattered with something red. I saw people slumped over in their seats, and saw a single wine glass roll from the limp grasp of a man and shatter on the floor, broken glass glinting in the dim light. I saw the gun in my hand, and the cracked railing of the balcony I stood on.

Oh, I thought. That's why. That's why I feel sad.

I glanced down at my hand, still clenching the sleek form of the gun. I didn't recognize myself. I looked back at the bodies still sitting at the table, and could almost imagine them sitting back up and continuing with their festivities...without me. Without me, even though I deserved it.

I sighed and adjusted my grip on the gun. I didn't remember putting all those holes in their bodies. They won't be finishing their dinner tonight.

The thought made me smile, and that smile turned into a laugh which ended with me leaning against the marble railing for support, clutching my stomach through my red dress.

Red like blood, red like revenge, red like anger, red like wine.

Looking back down at the gun still clutched in my hand, I felt immediately repulsed at what I've done. I threw it over the side of the railing, expecting to hear it fall against the marble floor below, hearing the sound echo through the ballroom, but that didn't happen. Instead of plummeting downward to freedom, freedom for it and freedom for me, it returned to my hand when it was in midair.

I stared at the gun flying back into my hand and resting itself there, as if it has always belonged there, and that's when I knew.

That's when I knew that every action had consequences, and that the gun was mine. And there was nothing I could do to change it.

I forgot to post a new prompt on Saturday so I will do it now

Prompt: Icy fingers gripped my arm in the darkness.

(view spoiler)[It was warm. Then cold. So soft yet so stiff. I felt as if I would never escape the tight grip. The fingers pressed against my wrist, so icy that they felt burnt. And then, it was gone.
But they cold lingered.
I could not rid myself of it.
Only on my wrist. Then my entire hand. Soon enough, it had traveled throughout my arm. My breath caught, only a minuscule voice able to operate, "Wh-who are you? Wh-" I took in another icy breath, fog escaping my purple-stained lips. "What do you want? What did you do to me?"
The only response was a chorus of high-pitched frozen giggles.
I blandly felt water rising around me. The transformation from liquid to solid barely registered in my brain.
And then giggles continued (hide spoiler)]

In your character’s world, only strong magic–users are allowed to survive past their 13th birthday. Your character has no magical ability—but even at 11 years old, they’ve discovered a way to fake it.

(view spoiler)["You won't get away with it, Jett" Amin warned me, "They will notice." I ignored him as I went back to packing in the supplies of light and bombs. He grabbed my shoulder and turned me toward him. "And when they do, your punishment could be even worse."
I reluctantly looked him in the eyes. "What could be worse than death? Even if I don't get away with this, at least I tried!" I swung the satchel over my shoulder and stood up. "I haven't been caught so far. Why should it be any different this time?"
"Because this time, it matters. If you mess up, slip–anything–you will pay the price. And I can't let that happen to my brother."
"But I'll die anyway!" I practically shouted. "I want to feel like I at least did something instead of just letting them kill me off like all the others."
"Then let me help! I have a power, it isn't fake."
"That would be even worse. Of course they wouldn't fall for that. You have a water power, and I have been pretending to have a fire power. They don't mix."
Amin let out a defeated sigh. "You're right. I wouldn't want you to go down without trying either. I just wish there was another way out of this." (hide spoiler)]

How do you do your "view spoiler" thing?

Replace the [] with <>

[spoiler]text[/spoiler]

It's the same with italics and bolds and underlines and many, M A N Y more that you can find in the "(some html is ok)" click-er-oo above your comment box (comment box?)

Amir slunk down the street, hiding in the shadows of doorways whenever possible. A crowd was gathering in the town square. Mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, neighbors and friends, everyone was coming to see the so called "celebration" of the Sorting. This was how the leaders of the kingdom sorted the strong from the weak, the Talented from the Talentless. The Talented had strong magical abilities and only they were aloud to survive. Amir made it to the edge of the crowd and crept through to the front completely unnoticed. Everyone was dressed in their fanciest gowns and suits, aside from the Unprivileged. They were the Hopefuls who'd been deemed to have great magical capacity but ended up not amounting to anything, at least not to the leaders. Amir made it to the front right as the ceremony started. "Welcome, citizens of Tamenia," boomed the loud voice of Lord Anders. Amir scanned the crowd for his best friend Jayce as Lord Anders commenced his Sorting speech. Jayce was 13 this year - the age of Becoming. He would be Sorted along with the 17 other boys and girls his age. Jayce was sure to become one of the Talented or at least a Hopeful. He's been able to create powerful illusions before most people even start to develop abilities. Magical abilities normally start to show when children turn 10. Amir was 11 - and he still hadn't manifested even the slightest ability. "Let the sorting begin!" Lord Anders announced. The ceremony is a series of tests where all the kids are put through trials to see if they have skills in any of the magical areas: light, shadows, earth, mind, fire, or water. Jayce was most prominent in light, though he could manage to make a small fire and fill a cup of water from the air. Amir watched him intently through the entire 6 hours. "It's time to announce the results," said Master Kawan, the head of the STM - School for Talented Magics. "Amanda Brazier - Talented in Fire." Cheers arose from the crowd and Amanda's parents hugged her with their heads held high. 7 were announced Hopeful, 6 were Talentless, 3 more were announced Talented. Jayce was last. "Jayce Warder - Talented in light, Hopeful in mind and water."
Gasps came from the crowd and there was a soft applause. Amir smiled as Jayce came over to him. They didn't have any family. Their parents had been best friends but all of them died in a tragic fire that burned down Jayce's mansion. Amir and Jayce had been playing in the forest at the time. They'd rushed over as soon as they smelled the smoke, but by the time they got there, most of the house was in flames and the top 2 floors had crumbled. They stood there watching until there was nothing left but ashes, silent tears streaming down their faces. They'd been hiding out at Amir's small home ever since.
Amir wasn't surprised that Jayce had come out with a 2 hopefuls as well as a talent. His parents had been extremely skilled in their Talents before they died. Amir on the other hand, didn't show any signs of manifesting a Talent at all. His dad had been Unprivileged, his mother just a Hopeful.
"C'mon" Jayce whispered. Let's get as far away as we can before..."
"Crack! Crack!"
"Hurry! They've started!" Jayce hissed, turning slightly pale. They hated this part of the ceremonies. After the last one had been announced, those proclaimed Talentless were knocked unconscious by a wooden club to have their bodies dragged to "a place to de disposed" as the leaders called it.
Once they'd gotten to the forest, which was far enough away that the crowd was only a muffled buzz, Jayce turned toward Amir and grasped him by the shoulders.
"Don't think I didn't see those tears." Jayce said softly as Amir hurried to wipe his eyes.
“What tears?” Amir replied, letting out a little laugh.
“Listen to me, Amir. Don’t worry about the Sorting. It’s going to be okay. I won’t let them do anything to you. I’ll use my Illusions to smuggle you away if I have to.”
“You and I both know that’s nearly impossible.”
“That’s right. NEARLY impossible. That means there’s still a chance. And with my talents and your skills…”
“It’s not going to work.”
“Now see, here’s the thing - we don’t need to worry about it anymore. I found some information…”
“Whatever you’re planning, it’s not going to work!” Amir yelled. “I’ve managed to go this long without any of my Mentors figuring out that I haven’t manifested yet, but there’s no way I’m going to fool the headmaster! You might as well consider me a goner.” He mumbled, angry tears starting to roll down his face. Amir had become quite adept at using natural skills and sleight of hand to trick people into thinking he had talent. But the headmaster was able to see past all tricks with his Talent of shadows and skill in light.

“Amir, stop it.” Jayce shook him softly. “I’m serious. I’ve found a way to help you get through. With a little bit of training - “
“Training?” Amir looked up hopefully. Training was something only offered to the Talenteds and Hopefuls.
“Yes, training. With an old friend of my fathers.”

Ok, I actually really liked this and though it was really fun, so if you guys like it, I'll continue it.

Let me know what suggestions you have!

I L O V E D IT! ABI THAT WAS AMAZING, AND I THINK THAT YOU SHOULD TOTALLY CONTINUE!

Ok! I kind of really want to. I’m so excited! I’ve always loved telling stories to my sisters, but I’ve never been about to think of something I could actually right a long story about. Thanks for the awesome prompt!

I do have a little advice though, I noticed a lot of times that, to give the reader information, you would explain how it worked, and that's good as long as you don't do it consistantly. But that doesn't change the fact that I t o t a l l y want to hear more!

Thank you! Please keep giving advice - I really appreciate it!

No problem!

I am also going to write a longer version of this, just so you know!
One: I l o v e the whole idea of it!
Two: We have an assignment in my Creative Writing class that we have to write about a twisted/distopian-ish world. And this seems pretty accurate!

Cool! I didn't realize this before, but our main characters' names are almost exactly the same! I didn't even read yours until after I wrote mine!

Haha! I didn't realize that either!
(I chose Amin because it means loyal!)

I chose Amir because one of it's meanings is "little beloved" which I thought fit my character well. The other meanings are "tall" and "treetop"

That's so cool! I l o v e using meaningful names!

It might be a while, but I’ll repost when I’ve finished a few chapters

Abi wrote: "It might be a while, but I’ll repost when I’ve finished a few chapters"

That's fine, but just so you know, the prompt will still change on Wednesday. (I might be a while too! I think I'll just reply to the prompt, or post a link right now so it will update and people can look whevever!)

https://www.wattpad.com/story/2055609...

Here's a link to it. I'll add a prologue in a few days.

NEW PROMPT:
One flashlight flash meant danger, two flashes meant it was safe; but she saw three flashes that night from beyond the bog, and they had never talked about what three flashes meant.

One flashlight flash meant danger, two flashes meant it was safe; but she saw three flashes that night from beyond the bog, and they had never talked about what three flashes meant.
Then I saw them.
Three hazy apparitions coming slowly, the light skimming the horizon in search for someone.
Me.
It was only a thought when I had it, but the more I let it process in her brain, the more it made total sense.
There weren't supposed to be three on watch. Only two. There wasn't supposed to be three flashes. But they didn't know that. There wasn't supposed to be anything three. But three was their trademark.
And at that moment, I knew what three flashes meant.
Capture.

Sushie wrote: "One flashlight flash meant danger, two flashes meant it was safe; but she saw three flashes that night from beyond the bog, and they had never talked about what three flashes meant.
Then I saw them..."

This is really good!
But you should add a little more detail to ' the bog ' like
" But she saw three flashes that night from beyond the black, cold bog "
See what I mean?
Give it a spooky feeling!

Yeah.
Thanks!

Sushie wrote: "Yeah.
Thanks!"

No Problem!

That’s really good sushi!

Much Abi deserves thanks.

Speak Yoda that like?

Prompt New? So I think!

Write a story in which characters are warned not to go into the woods.

(or Story write you: Woods no go into, a warning to you. XD)

NEW: Witnesses to crimes can find themselves in grave danger, which is why there are protection programs for such persons. But what if the witness decided to join forces with the prime suspect? What does the witness get in exchange for false testimony that acquits a terrible criminal?

"If I don't tell them, I could die!" I hiss-whispered. "You think I'll agree to that?"
"Then tell him!" He stated so simply I almost thought he was serious.
"And risk you or your 'friends' coming after me? That's just as bad! Look, I never wanted to see you--OW!" I exclaimed when I felt Kole kick me.
"There could be... eavesdroppers!" He said in the same hiss-whisper I'd been using. Kole glanced both ways quickly, "And I never meant for that to happen, but I would do it again if necessary." He looked at me with the last sentence and a furious fear coursed through me.
I stood and my chair toppled to the floor as I backed up. "Don't. Touch. Me."
"Don't give me away." Was his reply. And he gestured for me to sit again. After a few deep breaths, I finally did. My jaw never loosened though, and I was ever ready to run out the door if anything gave me a reason.
"Okay." I said, "But what do I tell the police if I can't tell them you-" He kicked me again and this time I managed to only growl. My teeth clenched as I said, "What you did."
"Make something up, I don't care. It's not my life." And he stood, opening the door and gesturing for me to leave.
I did.
It's not easy to talk to a murderer.

Write a story about one of your characters who has magic. The other wants nothing more than to have magic. How far is that one person willing to go to make that magic theirs?

Write about a story called The Aftermath.

One day, the sun rose in the west and set in the east

When your grandmother died, the inheritance was divided between you and your two siblings. One got all the money; the other all the property and possessions. All you got was a packet of gardening seeds.

They were all jealous of Beryl. He got the seeds.
He knew it sounded a little backwards, why would the people with all the money and land be jealous of garden stuff?
But the thing is, when the sun disappears, gardening seeds are more precious then any mere rock of gold. Even if you can't grow them, they're food.
When Flourite died, it was devestating, but known to happen. Flourite hadn't been in very good shape even before the supernova, so it was to no ones surprise that she couldn't survive longer than an hour without the sun.
She'd given her three children what little she could:
Spinel got the money, Jasper got the land, and Beryl got the seeds.
If Flourite had been anything before the supernova, a gardener was one of them.
Now Beryl was planting a seed. Pea seed. It was only one, and he wasn't sure if he had enough water for it to grow. If the seed sprouted, Beryl would get at least seven more seeds and a plant.
If only the sun would return.
Everyone was hoping, but they all knew it wouldn't ever happen.
Beryl poured a few drops of water onto the seed and I light flashed in his eyes, almost as bright as the sun, and just as warm.
But... The light did not come from the east. It rose in the west.

If you haven't looked at my member thread, yet, I said I'd try to combine the prompts... That's why it mentions the sun rising in the west.

New week: new prompt!

The future of the human race does(not) depend on creating colonies on other planets.

"Pointless. It's all completely pointless....."

"Calm down, Jed."

"I am calm. I just don't see the point of doing this if there is none."

"Because that makes sense."

Jed and Ellie were the only passengers aboard the ship destined for Mars. The small pod had room for more, but no one else wanted to come. Ever since the new portal opened up, people were less and less interested in space and more interested in other dimensions.

"It makes perfect sense." Jed tried to push a crate of food onto the crowded wall shelf, but it wouldn't slide in. He pushed harder. "Space travel is outdated. No one is relying on theories about creating an atmosphere on Mars any more. They're planning on escaping to the multiverse when global warming and pollution finally kill the planet."

Ellie shook her head. "One, it doesn't work like that. Two, global warming is a conspiracy by the government for taxes, nothing more. Three, people are still interested in space. NASA still exists, doesn't it?"

"Stop with your conspiracy theories! NASA is going to be dissolved in a year or two, anyway." He gave the crate a hard shove, frowning when it still wouldn't fit. "This is all pointless. I swear, this is the last trip to space you're dragging me on."

Despite herself, Ellie smiled. "As if. You're just being grumpy. There's no way you're giving up on Mars, even if humanity doesn't depend on it any more."

Woah! I really like that, Ari. Are you planning on writing more? (Cause I'd totally read it!)