Going to stash all of my solos for Corn's booth here!

Prompts: Sports | Reach a Distant Place | A Natural Disaster | One of You has a Secret Identity

The group huddled together, watching out of the enormous, glass windows in the airport. The sky was dark and angry. The wind billowed hard enough that they could hear it whistling and wailing around them. If they reached out, they could feel the glass straining and bowing with the force. The thick, torrential rain was carried by the wind in thick sheets. All they could make of the outside world were the strong lights of the airport peeking through the onslaught of rain. They all looked across the sky together, hoping some light would shine through in the distance and signal an end to the downpour.

An older woman, wearing a similar outfit to the group, approached them. "I'm sorry, everyone," she said somberly. Good Swimmer looked over to the woman with worried eyes. The young man's eyes fell when he read the expression of his coach. "The hurricane is picking up, and at this point I don't see it fading out before it makes landfall. By the time this is all over, there's no way we will make it on the plane in time, much less fly eight hours to the championship."

The entire swim team sagged. They'd come so far as a group to make it here! And now a hurricane was going to ground them from proving themselves in the tournament? Good Swimmer hated how childish he felt when he thought that the whole situation was "unfair," as if the weather cared whether or not (haha) it messed with his plans that he'd been working towards all year. The coach looked at them all, sharing their frowns. "If you really want, we can wait it out and see. They haven't officially cancelled the flight yet," she said, trying to sound encouraging before adding. The look on her face as she watched the deluge outside with concern told them that they shouldn't have high hopes, though. These definitely weren't safe flying conditions.

The somber vibe amongst the huddled team, now gathering their bags together, was interrupted by a small laugh. At first, the group didn't seem to be phased. Good Swimmer himself just thought it came from someone else in the airport. It wasn't until the laugh continued, and then started to get louder. When it reached full cackling, they all shared looks of concern before looking over. They all set their eyes on the assistant coach, who seemed to have just bothered to arrive.

The younger man was holding a hand over his mouth, which didn't do much to contain his bellowing laughter. When he finally stood in front of the group, now mostly huddled back together as they discussed what to do now, his laughter finally died down a bit. "This is just too good," he said, laughter taking him over again mid-sentence. The coach narrowed her eyes at her assistant. "What are you talking about?" she snipped, anger rising at such a display to bad news. He pulled himself together again and spoke. "I thought I was really going to lose out on my father's offer, but this whole thing has really turned the tides! I think I'll go on a nice vacation with my earnings when this whole hurricane blows over!" he exclaimed happily. The coach put her hands on her hips and faced the assistant fully. "You need to explain yourself. Now."

The assistant coach looked them all over and erupted into giggles again. "You all look so sad, I almost don't want to tell you," he said. "But, if you insist," he began. "My father actually owns one of the teams we were supposed to be going up against! When you all started doing really well, he told me that if I could sabotage the whole thing, he'd give me twenty percent of his earnings when his team won! I tried to change your strategies and confuse your practice times, but she," he exclaimed, pointing to the coach, "is too damn observant and shot me down at every turn. But this! This hurricane! It's perfect! Now you don't have a chance!"

Prompt: Slice of Life | Obtain a Specific Object | A Natural Disaster | Your Goal is Impossible

"Okay, okay, I will definitely get my errands done tomorrow when I get up" Flop murmured to herself, scrawling down on a slip of paper. The paper itself was well-loved, things added, underlined, circled in red. It seemed like a few things had lingered on there far longer than they should have. The young woman seemed to be trying to convince herself more than anyone else, not like there was someone there to listen. She glanced over the list one more time before setting it by her bag. Climbing into bed, she went over her strategy to get her errands done quickly in the morning so she could make it back to her cozy apartment to play more of her comfy games. Soon enough, she was snoozing away. And, outside, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped.

The next morning, Flop stirred under her blankets. It was...much colder than she expected. When she eventually opened her eyes, her room was very bright with the morning sun. Very bright. Groaning, she turned over and tried to snuggle back down into the warmth again. The reminder that she had things to do today crept in her mind, and she sighed heavily. After a few moments to gather her motivation, she threw the covers off of her and hissed at the cold meeting her skin. "I'll make it quick, then it's right back under the blankets," she murmured, looking at her Switch longingly. Why did she have to be an adult and run errands and be responsible? Grumbling, she shuffled to the restroom to brush her teeth and get ready.

With her arms above her head to corral her hair into a messy bun, Flop shuffled out of the bathroom and to her dresser to pick out some fresh clothes. She shivered and rubbed her arms once her hair was secure. Soon enough, she pulled out a pair of leggings, a sweater, some underthings. As she was looking for some socks, her eye caught the mirror atop the dresser that faced the window. The bright, blinding white shocked her, and she paused to look closer. When her eyes registered what she was seeing, she gasped and rushed to the window.

Outside, the world was blanketed with white. The quiet outside was jarring compared to the usual hustle of cars and people going about their business. Instead, all was still. The foot or more of snow seemed to bring the world to a screeching halt. Flop couldn't believe this. She needed to look closer. Quickly, she bounded back over to her dresser and threw all her clothes on. One rush down the stairs brought her to her front door. When she pulled it open, the snow built up on the other side toppled in. The pile was easily up to her knees, and she groaned at the thought. "There's no way I'm going to be able to get all my stuff done now!" she cried, her arms sagging in defeat.

Flop looked at her list in her hand once again, weighing her options on what she might be able to still accomplish. At the top of her list, circled and underlined, was "Peppermint Mocha Coffee" and "Chocolate Covered Pretzels." Each additional mark was a personal reminder to her to get more, and now her stores were empty and the errand couldn't be put off anymore. Unless there was a blizzard, apparently. "I was really looking forward to having a nice coffee and a snack too," she moped, "There's now way they're open today, though. It would be impossible to get there in all this," she said, waving her arm over the winter wonderland outside. With a heavy sigh, she brushed the snow back outside, shut the door, and went back upstairs.

Prompt: Slice of Life | Reach a Distant Place | Bad Impression or Misunderstanding | One/Both of you is/are already dead

"Welcome, welcome," she said sweetly to each of the boarding clients, smiling politely at them as they found their seats. Her coworker to her left was doing most of the talking, helping them find their seats and answering questions about food options, baggage, etc. Rain Rot knew how it was. The stress and bustle of being on a plane did not bring out the best or friendliest in anyone, so she didn't take it personally as everyone filed in without really acknowledging her greetings. Once everyone was aboard and settled in, she smiled to her coworker. "Alright, it sounds like we have everyone?" she asked softly. Her coworker paused, but then continued on her way back through the cabin of the plane. Rain Rot made a face, but chalked it up to her not hearing the question.

When the rest of the flight when much of the same, Rain Rot couldn't help but feel like she'd done something to upset her coworkers. She sat in her designated flight attendant seat and thought through the things that she had done recently that might have offended them. When she tried to think past boarding the plane early that morning, her mind felt hazy. "I'm so tired," she murmured to herself, running a hand down her face. These holiday hours and long flights were starting to wear on her. She peaked at her watch and groaned. They were only four hours into this fifteen hour flight, and it felt like it had been so much longer.

Rain Rot brushed herself off and put the customer service smile back on her face. The other attendants seemed to be focused on being very attentive to the customers, and so her efforts to go into the larger part of the cabin where they sat were usually interrupted. Not wanting to sit around, she instead loaded the carts for snacks and meals so they were ready for the appropriate time to bring them out. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for a box of utensils on the top shelf. When it was obvious she had no chance to getting them down on her own, she huffed in frustration and looked around.

Finally, she spotted one of the other attendants that was a little more vertically blessed than herself. Rain Rot walked over, smiling at them as they checked over something on their phone. "Hey," she started, hoping to get their attention. When they didn't look up, she paused, and then spoke a little louder, "Look, I need to finish stocking the snack cart, and I can't reach the utensils. Can you please lend a hand?" Still, the other attendant did not look up from their phone. At this point, Rain Rot had had it with this treatment. If she had done something, fine, but they were still expected to do a job and provide a service. The least her coworkers could do was conduct themselves professionally while they were in the air.

Thankfully, the walkway was clear straight up to the front of the plane. Rain Rot heaved in a breath, trying to ground herself to have a tough conversation before she reached the pilot. Just as she was about to pull the curtain back and speak to him about the situation, she heard that someone else was already in there. "I'm sorry, what are you saying? That doesn't make any sense," she heard another attendant say, sounding worried. Rain Rot heard the pilot sigh. "Listen, I know it sounds like I'm trying to haze you or something, I know. But, just trust me on this. I wish I had more sensible answers for you. This happens every time we take this flight. Just keep ignoring her and get ahead of her when a guest needs something. If a guest starts to ask questions, just redirect them the best you can and if they don't let up, just give them corporate's number for more of their questions. You're new, and just tell them that you don't know." There was a pause. The younger attendant was obviously trying to process this information. "So...I'm just supposed to ignore this haunted ghost lady? For this fifteen hour flight? Why did no one tell me about this?" The pilot let out an exasperated laugh. "I'm sure it's somewhere in the fine fine fine print, if they bothered to bring it up at all," he started. Rain Rot heard him flicking switches and sending comms back to Air Traffic Control for a moment before continuing.

"You won't have to deal with her the whole flight. The one she died on crashed at about the ten hour mark. Just wait it out for a little while longer. You'll know it's almost over when she rushes towards her seat and buckles in. It'll fade a few minutes after that and you're free for the rest of the flight."

Prompt: Sci-Fi | Reach a Distant Place | Resolve a Disagreement | Limited Resources

"Yes, yes, I understand the magnitude of the situation," Sparkling Sunrise said into her communicator. The young woman was furiously typing notes on her data pad while talking with somebody through an earpiece. "I know, I know. Don't let anyone on the premises until we get there to assess the damage. We should be landing iiiin," she started, words trailing off as she looked up from her datapad to the digital clocks on the wall, "About five-ish hours?" That didn't seem to be the answer the person on the other end wanted to hear, and she rolled her eyes and kept making notes while she listened to their tirade. Finally, there seemed to be a pause. "I know that you're upset because you care about this just as much as we do. We will sort it out as soon as the rest of the team arrives. Just keep some guards at the entrances and keep a perimeter. It's not about who is to blame here, it's about saving what's left." Her sincere tone seemed to calm the person on the other side, and the call quickly wrapped up from there. Sparkling Sunrise took a few more sips of coffee before zooming in on some new photos of the site. She sighed as she noted all of the creatures clinging to the thick vines in the photo. After making some notes, she saved all of her work so far and waited for them to land.

Later, the rest of the team disembarked the ship and rushed towards the vineyard. The increased guard presence and growing crowd did not make Sparkling Sunrise feel great about their prospects for the rest of the day. When someone, wearing a matching uniform to her, noticed them approaching, he beckoned them past the standing guards and through the fence gate. Quickly, he began giving a report of their findings and efforts so far, and Sparkling Sunrise updated her report while they walked closer to the vineyard itself. When they were close enough to see the destruction, she gasped, frozen in her tracks.

The destruction so far left huge patches of the vineyard bare. A few of the sections seemed to be covered in thickly woven nets to protect them from the onslaught. Another team member walked by as they stared, carrying a heavy box with holes drilled in the top. "It's going to take weeks to clear all of them out. This is the last vineyard of the squapes that we know of. I hope that they can hold on until we are done," he groaned, clearly exhausted. Sparkling Sunrise noted the strange chirping coming from the box as he walked past them. Quickly, they all set to work clearing out the creatures.

A few days later, while Sparkling Sunrise was carefully picking off the tiny creatures in between the vines, she heard running and shouting from the main entrance. She gently placed the tiny furbody, still munching on a chunk of one of the squapes, into the carrier before closing it and sliding off her gloves. She sighed heavily and brushed her frazzled hair out of her face before rising to her feet. The yelling continued on, and she knew that the rest of her team members would probably appreciate the support. Plus, she needed a walk after being hunched around the vines for hours picking off tiny, hungry furbodies.

"I am not going to put up with this slander! I'm telling you, they all came from the shipment of supplies last week!" the man shouted, throwing his hands up in anger at the small group of the team at the fence gate. "Nobody is accusing you of anything, sir. Right now, we are just trying to save what vines we can before it's too late. No one here has time to place blame," one of her team members replied, clearly exasperated with this man. "That's bullshit and you know it! I hear what the locals are saying in town about this whole disaster. They keep looking to me like I'm the one that didn't manage those...those pests!" the farmer cried, pointing a finger towards the vineyard. "Listen," Sparkling Sunrise piped up, trying to keep a level tone, "I understand that this is a stressful situation for everyone. Those people in town create rumors about everything because they don't have anything else better to do. Don't you think that the bigger picture here is more important? The squapes vineyard is slowly being cleared. Instead of coming over here to scream at us about something we have no control over, why aren't you back at your farm, making sure that the furbodies haven't made it to your crops? We are supposed to be stewards of these endangered plants so we don't lose them forever, not squabbling teenagers concerned with rumors."

Prompt: Sports | Meet/Help/Get Help from a Third Party | Antagonistic Third Party | Your Goal is Impossible

Reach was very aware of the event coordinator giving her the stink eye for holding everything up. She was next up in the ring and was not in the saddle or the ring. Her heart started to pound in her ears more. The judges were only going to put up with this for a minute or two longer before they just disqualified her. They had worked too hard up to this point for everything to just fall apart like this.

Brushing off her show jacket and straightening out the number card resting against the small of her back, Reach turned around to assess the situation. Her horse stamped and twitched, sometimes throwing his head to try and free the reins from the groom holding him. Usually he was so good for big shows, but there was a serious problem. Reach turned away from her panicking horse to look out at the crowd again. In the back corner, near the corner of the ring, a spectator was wrapped in a blanket. A blanket. At a horse show. She sighed. There was no way her horse was going to behave when there was this obviously horse-eating-blanket so close to the ring.

Reach nervously shuffled through the crowded space to the event coordinator. "You have thirty seconds to-" she started, pointing a pen at the young woman. Reach held up her hands in surrender, looking sheepish. "I'm so sorry for the hold up...but there's a spectator with a blanket and it's throwing my boy off," she said, subtly pointing in the direction of the deadly blanket area. The coordinator stared at her for an extended pause. Eventually, she spoke, "You're kidding. Might as well drop out now, kid. He's not going anywhere in that ring and you know it."

Superpowered | Reach a Distant Place | Antagonistic Third Party | One/Both of You Is/Are Already Dead

Ragged Breaths pulled on her suit and helmet with haste. She quickly powered the mask on and looked through the HUD to continue getting ready, murmuring commands to the robot companion inside while she rushed around to gather her things. "Now is the time to strike," she said to herself, balling up a fist with conviction. The coordinates given to the program in her helmet told her it would take several hours of travel to get there, but that was fine. That gave her time to plan, to plot. The anticipation already had frost forming around her fingertips, and she flicked it away to put on her boots.

Soon enough, she was in the air, frost and snow trailing behind her and falling into the sea below. Ragged Breaths stared ahead, as if she would be able to see the island if she looked with enough determination. Having the location of the villain's hideout lit a fire in her strong enough to melt the ice she created. This was her chance to end things, once and for all. With renewed fervor, she flew faster across the ocean.

When Ragged Breaths finally had the island in sight, an incoming call popped up on the side of her helmet's HUD. She narrowed her eyes at the name. Did they already know she was coming? Maybe she shouldn't have gone in so directly. Oh well, too late now. With a sigh, she answered the call. "What do you want?" she grumbled.

"I wish I knew where things went wrong, for it to end up like this," the villain replied bitterly. The strange response had Ragged Breaths furrowing her brow, trying to decipher whatever mind games he was playing with her. "Care to elaborate before I come kick your ass?" she snapped back. The frost propelling her into the air flared with her anger, throwing more icy shards into the sea.

"I know that you can't turn back, and things are going to go the same way they have for the last five years, but I want you, whatever 'you' means at this point, to know that I don't get joy out of doing this over and over. I've spent more time these past five years trying to stop whatever this is and help you than I have on my own projects that you hated me for in the first place. But, I'm still here. Right where you want me. So, come get me, because I know that's your only option. Just know that, every year, I hope something I have done has stopped you from coming and getting blown out of the sky again and again."