Username: SkylerKarashi Prompt response: A woodworker, a carpenter, a potter; you use your hands to create things and you are building yourself a home, whatever that means.
What? What does any of this even mean?? Rain Bone looked over the supplies laid before him, sitting in place and looking greatly confused. He blinkedd, then huffed and nodded. Shelter was his goal, and he would make it happen! Or... so he thought. By the time he finished up, there was something that... maybe resembled a shelter? He sat back and looked over his handy work. What to anyone else would just look like crudely stuck together branches and leaves, gave Rain Bone a sense of pride. HE built this himself.
Username: SkylerKarashi Prompt response: A letter arrives in the mail one day with news of someone you lost. What does it say?
A stroll on a beautiful day quickly turned bleak... Rain Bone stared down at the letter at his hooves. He seemed to be frozen where he stood. This couldn't be. How could it? Sure they hadn't talked lately, but gone? Forever? This was impossible... Yet there it was, scrawled out for him... He didn't know what to do, all his body would let him do now was collapse as tears began to fall.
Username: Lutz Prompt response: 15. The planet is collapsing in on itself and you have to get off of it. But where do you go?
Time was not on her side, but Hang The Moon couldn't think about that right now. She had to get to the ship, she had to make it-
But the wail of a child made her stop. With the ground rumbling under her feet she looked around frantically, searching for the source of the noise. Underneath a fallen tree a young boy cried, overwhelmed by the noise and the shaking, completely lost. Hang The Moon knew she had mere moments to spare if she wanted to get to the evacuation point, but she couldn't leave the child.
Risking her precious seconds, Hang The Moon ran towards the young boy, scooping him up with no resistance. The child continued to sob as she turned and fled, her steps uncertain even as she ran as fast as she could with the way the earth was moving beneath her. One particularly large quake sent her stumbling to the ground, rolling to protect the young boy.
"Come on," she whispered to herself, ignoring the pain and blood now making her hold on the boy slippery. She ran hard, faster than she thought she ever could, and finally reached the evacuation point. She was the last one, the steward at the door beckoning her to run faster, smoke already spewing from the ship's boosters.
Another large quake. The ground gave way beneath her. Hang The Moon jumped with what little momentum she had and barely reached safety, the ground behind her turning into a yawning cavern. She leapt forward into the ship, the steward slamming the button to shut the door. As soon as it was closed the ship roared to life, lifting off as the ground crumbled and melted under the heat of the boosters. But they were safe. On their way to the colony on the moon. She could only hope the boy's parents had made it as well.
Username: Lutz Prompt response: 2. A woodworker, a carpenter, a potter; you use your hands to create things and you are building yourself a home, whatever that means.
Brambling felt the grain of the wood with his fingers, finding the knot he wanted to sand down. People were always surprised when they learned he was a woodworker, assuming he needed his sight to be a good one. But Brambling had a great relationship with wood and seemed to understand just what shape it wanted to be just by running his fingers along its edges. This piece of pine wanted to be a chair, that piece of cedar a chest, and the other bit of cherrywood a table.
He was working on a personal project this time, though. He'd recently moved and the place didn't have much character. It was a new build, very cookie cutter, and it had been in his price range. He wanted some age in the place, some wood that would make it come alive. And so he was working on a curio cabinet for the living room to make the place feel more like home.
It would be a long, laborious project, but one that Brambling took on with relish.
Username: Lutz Prompt response: 18. A school trip takes an unexpected turn for the worse.
They were supposed to go to the local river to do some collecting and observations. That was it. A nice field trip, close enough that the bus ride wasn't awful but long enough that they didn't have to do much work at school. The weather was nice, Follow the Storm had made sure to pack his rain boots so he could wade into the river a bit, he had lunch with him...but sometimes even the best laid plans went awry.
He hadn't seen it coming. No one had, except one girl who had screamed just before Storm hit the ground hard. A massive brown bullet had come flying across the river and now Storm could feel hundreds of pounds of weight crushing him into the ground, sharp claws pressing into his back. A roar deafened him and he felt drool drip onto his face.
A bear.
"Help," he said, or at least tried to say. It came out more of a wheeze as the bear pushed the air out of his lungs. He tried to move, tried to fight, something to get the bear off him but nothing seemed to work. Storm tried to drag in another breath, but the weight of the bear was keeping him from doing so. The world started to go dark, sound started to fade away, and Storm realized he was passing out. Maybe if the bear thought he was dead it would leave him alone...
It was with that thought that he passed out, the darkness swallowing his consciousness.
Username: Starrydance Prompt response: {A school trip takes an unexpected turn for the worse.}
A little bit of swimming with her friends, on a beautifully cool autumn day. The best! Her friends were the best!
The ocean rolled in brilliant turquoise colors, rumbling in and out over the sugar sand shore. She laughed as she raced out to near some rocks, going to be the fastest there could be - glancing over with a triumphant look. And then the ocean.... grabbed back. The current wrapped around her and seemed to yank, as she tried to swim back to her screaming friend that swiftly faded out of view.
Still fighting, still trying to swim free, as the water grew colder, the blues darker, the shore out of sight in a blink. Weariness weighed her down, as she tried valiantly to keep her chin up - to just fight another moment....
Username: Moonstone Dazzle Prompt response: When they said camp talent show, Showtime was sure they'd nailed it. Who didn't love accordions? Who didn't love unicycles? They were a child of many talents. They were awesome.
Now they just. Had to convince the other kids. Hat in their hands, they tried to swallow down the tears.
Well. Whatever. They'd just... play better next time. Bring a trumpet, too.
Username: Moonstone Dazzle Prompt response:There was no need for love in the world. She didn't need a princess, a prince, anyone to come see her. This place was perfect. Surrounded by sweets and snow, she was at home.
The pillars of her palace were candy canes. The doors were rich chocolate, carved into ornate shapes. It was a winter wonderland. She could look out the window any time she wanted to snowflakes on the wind. Clara pulled the cup of cocoa close to herself, reveling in the warmth. A warm hug, in the cold embrace of her kingdom.
Yes. She didn't a princess, a prince. Anyone. This was her kingdom. And she was perfectly fine.
Dice rolls
[6] = 6 1d20:
[
6
]
= 6
Last edited by Moonstone Dazzle on Mon Nov 27, 2023 8:14 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 118
Username: anemosagkelos Prompt response:A letter arrives in the mail one day with news of someone you lost. What does it say?
The sun is shining bright and the morning birdsong follows the young woman as she walks to the mailbox, a cooing babe on her hip. It's the simple days like this that make Talia think that she has found her place. It's far from any dream she had as a child, but somehow it's better, even if others don't always understand it. She returns a coo, smiling brightly; only a fool would ever try to wrestle love into an easy definition.
"Miss Talia," the mailboy—she finds it difficult to think of someone who is only 24 as a man, despite being barely over 30 herself—greets her with a wave and smile.
"Ezri, it's so nice to see you. How is your mother?" Talia returns.
"Back at home, finally."
"Oh, I'm so glad. We'll have to stop by soon, then."
"She'd be delighted to see you," Ezri replies, before handing the small pile of mail over. "Have a good day, Miss Talia!"
Talia looks at her daughter, "Can you wave bye-bye?" She doesn't have any free hands to mimic it, herself, and she's not surprised that Adara just babbles in response. She takes after her other mother, far more reserved and regal than she is or has ever been. "That's okay, sweetheart, let's go see Mommy," she smiles at the excited squeal the baby lets out.
Once in the kitchen, Talia sets her daughter into the baby chair and then starts to go through the mail. Junk, bills, none of it is very interesting, until she sees the crisp parchment colored envelope with red ink. It's a formality she hasn't seen in some time, five years to be exact. She can't imagine what they want with her, not now.
She presses her lips together, staring and trying not to think of a time so long ago. She should call out for Katriel, or Ramiel, or Aric. Then again, Katriel might burn it without even opening it. Ramiel would likely shred it. Only Aric would consider opening it with her. Perhaps once she knows what it says, then.
The edge of the letter opener pokes under the seal before slicing clean through. She pulls the papers out, folded so neatly and precisely, and smooths them out. And then shrieks, hands flying to cover her mouth as the familiar handwriting flashes before her eyes.
A thunder of footsteps strikes out and she has the absurd thought that it should be raining, that the sun should hide its face in shame. This is a nightmare, surely. Five years ago, perhaps even three, it would have been a dream come true. But now, it must be a cruel joke. Libe is dead. And yet . . .
"He's alive, Kat. Libe's alive!" she screams, eyes wide, before twirling around and burying herself in Katriel's arms.
She finds herself wishing he was dead still. She doesn't want to lose this. Not any of them. And her daughter, oh gods. She can't stop crying, even as Aric pulls her away and up into his arms. She doesn't see Katriel or Ramiel's worried glances, even her daughter's cries are mute. The world, her world is collapsing.
Dice rolls
[14] = 14 1d20:
[
14
]
= 14
Last edited by anemosagkelos on Mon Nov 27, 2023 11:37 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 581
Username: anemosagkelos Prompt response:Your life is a horror story, a testament to everyone of what not to do.
The room of fire, it's supposed to be painful and mired with fear. She touches the flames and feels only chills, the same coldness that has frozen her soul. It would be amusing, being trapped in hell if she hadn't been born into it. The victims she has sent here have all sob and recoiled, awoken with trauma and recurrent nightmares. And she'll escape that, too, because she will never wake. Another thing to be thankful for, she supposes; all because of Mother.
She wanders like a ghost between the red room and the hall of mirrors. Every life event replays endlessly in the glass, but she needs not be shown any memories. She remembers them all. Every step a mistake, every deed coated in poison, and every heartbeat a chorus of condemnation. Sometimes, she stops and watches a scene, fingers pressed against the surface in the childish hope that she could reach her beloved steed, Daddy, or her murdered true love. But what has hope ever done for her?
Dark eyes close, she returns to the room of fire. There is no such thing as sleep here but there's a comfort in the idea that one day the magic will sputter and she'll catch on fire, the flames consuming her clothes and biting her flesh. They'd called her a witch, how fitting to be burned to death. That, however, would chance her suffering to end and the world is not that kind. Nothing that exists could ever be kind, not to her. She was doomed from conception, her life shaped some hundred years before she was even a thought in her mother's head so that the monster could find his son.
The muscles of her throat tighten; she tries not to think about her own son. She knows that he is safe, that he is loved. He has, in all likeliness, forgotten all about her. Once upon a time, he had loved her but that, too, is a memory that only serves to break her down, to blacken her heart. She sinks to the floor, tears threatening to spill down her face, as she looks at the dancing flames.
She should have never been born. She should have never known she had a sister. She should have never fallen in love. She should never have saved that child. She should have never pushed her mother. She should have never married. She should have never learned magic. She should never have killed. She should have never hoped. She should have never loved. It all spelled out her doom; if only she could have died, but she wasn't even fool enough to make that happen. Isn't she a poor unfortunate soul? Long punish the devil they made, she supposes.
Once fire hand danced in her palm. Now she writhes in them.
Dice rolls
[7] = 7 1d20:
[
7
]
= 7
Last edited by anemosagkelos on Tue Nov 28, 2023 12:00 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 498
Username: anemosagkelos Prompt response:A wizard grants you any magical ability or superpower that you want with no downside.
"No downside?" the man scoffed, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line. "There is no such thing, no matter what you wish for, as no downside," he accused, poking a finger into the wizard's chest. And why would a wizard pop out of a dumpster, of all places, to grant someone a power? One of them must be crazy and he would have preferred insanity, which meant that he must be sane. The wizard? Definitely not.
"'Course there is, son, else I wouldn't be offerin'!" the wizard croons, voice oddly high-pitched. "You could be famous or rich or smart or—"
"Shove it, mate," the man retorted, "It'd be like winning the lottery, all your enemies come out of the woodwork to collect debts and your friends turn against you, thinking you're greedy, and you eventually lose it all anyway."
"I won the lott'ry once," the wizard said, thoughtful, "and lookit me now! Ain't I a grand 'xample of success?"
The man blinked, then shook his head, dropping the dumpster lid and walking away. "Definitely insane," he muttered.
Dice rolls
[19] = 19 1d20:
[
19
]
= 19
Last edited by anemosagkelos on Tue Nov 28, 2023 12:13 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 205
You teach because you love it, because you want to share your knowledge of something you're passionate about. What is it?
The young woman with the purple hair and light green (almost yellow) eyes was excitedly welcoming people to her "Introduction to Gardening" classes. It wasn't anything exotic such as bonsai trees, or too terribly technical such as hydrophonics but Sunny was eager to share her knowledge on caring for plants. And that meant starting with the basics. One needed to have a good foundation, or in this case soil, for any ideas to grow (ha!) and bear fruit.
She liked to think herself as some Dollar Store Hallmark Heroine, just quirky enough but not too quirky that her whole pesonality was encapsulated into one word. She liked other things that wasn't solely about her plant-babies too! True Crime, for one, but she was in no way near an expert on the subject matter, though dead things could be recycled into fertilizer...
Dice rolls
[9] = 9 d20:
[
9
]
= 9
Last edited by HuniPi on Mon Nov 27, 2023 8:20 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 170
Username: Moonstone Dazzle Prompt response: Glorious Leap stills a moment. It's the calmest you've ever seen him. Wide-eyed, he stares at you. Unblinking.
You are struck by the sneaking suspicion that he isn't going to be stopping any time soon. He's going on and on about things you don't understand. Matching frequencies with whales? Exploring a whalefall? What even is a whalefall?
You excuse yourself when he starts crying about planting a garden with a damselfish.
Dice rolls
[8] = 8 1d20:
[
8
]
= 8
Last edited by Moonstone Dazzle on Mon Nov 27, 2023 8:25 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 88
The fire genasi was doing her best not to be noticed within the shadows. And despite the deep hue of her purple hair, the fact that she was in some way made of fire meant she gave off some illumination, no matter how much she tried to mute her glow.
Why was she here in the first place? Why was she sneaking about in one of the most dangerous prison colonies in the land? Because she was the ChOsEn OnE. Sunshine grimaced at the memory of the day that Primordial Voice boomed out that her brother was fated to save the Fire Citadel. And she was the Chosen One to safeguard her brother.
The planet is collapsing in on itself and you have to get off of it. But where do you go?
Burryna never signed up for this. She thought that moving literally nine years of space travel away from her family was going to be good for her (as an elf, it wasn't too long). And do you know, the usual. Get married, start a business, end up running a mafia. But the planet actually falling apart wasn't a part of her plan. She didn't want to admit it but there was only one place she could turn now.
She'd go ... back to her homeworld.
The sun is shining bright and the morning birdsong follows the young woman as she walks to the mailbox, a cooing babe on her hip. It's the simple days like this that make Talia think that she has found her place. It's far from any dream she had as a child, but somehow it's better, even if others don't always understand it. She returns a coo, smiling brightly; only a fool would ever try to wrestle love into an easy definition.
The room of fire, it's supposed to be painful and mired with fear. She touches the flames and feels only chills, the same coldness that has frozen her soul. It would be amusing, being trapped in hell if she hadn't been born into it. The victims she has sent here have all sob and recoiled, awoken with trauma and recurrent nightmares. And she'll escape that, too, because she will never wake. Another thing to be thankful for, she supposes; all because of 
"No downside?" the man scoffed, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line. "There is no such thing, no matter what you wish for, as no downside," he accused, poking a finger into the wizard's chest. And why would a wizard pop out of a dumpster, of all places, to grant someone a power? One of them must be crazy and he would have preferred insanity, which meant that he must be sane. The wizard? Definitely not.
The young woman with the purple hair and light green (almost yellow) eyes was excitedly welcoming people to her "Introduction to Gardening" classes. It wasn't anything exotic such as bonsai trees, or too terribly technical such as hydrophonics but Sunny was eager to share her knowledge on caring for plants. And that meant starting with the basics. One needed to have a good foundation, or in this case soil, for any ideas to grow (ha!) and bear fruit.
