Writing Prompt Four

Posts : 1364 Join date : 2015-12-20

Back, by popular demand!

Prompt Four

Describe an event that changed your character’s life forever, or make up and describe an event that would change your character’s life forever.

OR

Put your character in a position where they are found in possession of incriminating evidence (linked to Deadly Nightshade, if you want) and how they talk their way out of it.

Rules

1. All submissions should be in character of the posting character (exceptions will be made if you discuss with Jake). (i.e. if I post as Jake, it should be written from Jake's point of view, not from Victoria's).

2. All submissions must be a minimum of 150 words, and no longer than 1,000.

3. All submissions should be in third person as per the sites usual writing style.

4. Use of other people's characters MUST be authorised by the other handler.

5. One submission per character per prompt. (i.e. I can only post as Jake once, but I could post as more than one of my characters)

6. You must state which prompt you are writing at the start of your post - but this does NOT count towards your word count. If two prompts are stated, you may complete both, but only one can be submitted for the competition.

Happy writing!

Guest

TRIGGER WARNING: Self-harm; depression; suicidal thoughts

Prompt 1:

Too much.

Those were the only two words that echoed in Serenity’s mind as she sat on the bathroom floor of her home. Aunt Sally was off at work, and Tammie was just outside the door, waiting for Serenity to finish showering. It was the weekend before school was supposed to resume, and Serenity had just come back from shopping for school supplies. At fourteen, she was old enough to go with just Tammie beside her, something she had been grateful for -- at the start.

But there had been so many people and so many bodies pressing into hers, and she hadn’t realised just how strong her abilities had grown to become.

Too much.

She remembered stepping into the bookshop and picking up one of the things she needed. She remembered leaving to go to a second shop to get the others on her list and stepping right into the middle of a crowd. And that was the last coherent thing in her memory.

There had been so many flashes, so many visions, that they began to mix together in a constant stream of other people’s lives. There were children being born, children dying, people shouting at each other, people making out, people hitting and kissing and fighting and making love and…

Too much.

It was just too much for her to handle. Their emotions had come pouring in, too, mixtures of anger and hatred and love and passion and joy and …. Everything … jumbled together. She had pressed her hand to her ears, as though it could stop the onslaught of pain, and screamed. But her screaming had given way to a prophecy, something about love and death and a choice to make… And then Tammie had put a hand on her and she was whisked away to safety, to a quiet corner of Diagon Alley where nobody was there to overhear.

The procedure after that had been completed with a sense of robotic automacy; she went to the Ministry, debriefed, and then Tammie had been free to take her back shopping. But that wasn’t where she wanted to go, and despite only having bought one of the six required textbooks, Serenity asked to be taken home, where she proceeded to barricade herself in the bathroom.

But it wasn’t just this incident.

Too much.

She had whispered that phrase before, in the Ravenclaw tower, when it was so early in the morning that nothing stirred and only the stars saw her tears as stood on one of the balconies of the dorm room and stared at the ground below her. Tammie was asleep by the foot of her bed, and only a silencing charm had ensured the house elf didn’t hear the Ravenclaw slip from her bed, having had just another nightmare.

The stars above her illuminated the grounds below, so far, yet so near, and offering her a solution for everything. Faintly, she heard her own voice from earlier that day, words said then in sheer exhaustion, but now taking on a different meaning altogether: “I would rather die than have see one more vision.”

Serenity blinked the tears away. Crying was for people who couldn’t control their emotions, and she knew better than that. But still she stood there, staring at the freedom below her until the sun began to rise; and then, quietly moving back to her bed, she lay down and wondered which was more cowardly: finding freedom or turning it down.

Too much.

Glancing down, Serenity barely managed to register the fact that, somehow, she had picked up Aunt Sally’s razor. The blade was so tempting, calling to her, promising a sense of relief. Before she knew what she was doing, Serenity pressed the edge against a section of her skin just above her knee, where she knew nobody would ever check.

There was a sting as the blade cut into the flesh and she winced slightly at the sight of her blood mixing with the water, turning the floor a light shade of pink that washed down the drain. She swallowed dryly, tilting her head back to allow the water from the shower to wash over her face.

Too much, but as the bleeding slowed and the pain dulled to a slight ache, Serenity realised that she was starting to feel better, less heavy, less burdened, and, hand shaking only the slightest bit, she put the blade down to make a second cut.

[[OOC: Note that I do not condone cutting or self-harm as a solution. If you ever feel the need or urge to hurt yourself, please, please seek help. If you’re afraid of being judged, please feel free to message me either on here or on Skype; I’ve been there, so I know what it’s like and I promise you two things: this is not the best way to deal. Secondly, and most importantly, it will get better. <3 ]]

Guest

Prompt 1:

Sophie stood in the middle of the round pen, facing the skittish horse standing as far away as he could from her. In her hands she held a coil of rope. With no one but the stars and the moon as her audience, she made a promise to herself to do everything in her power to help Phoenix. She would not give up, not while she had breath in her body and a Grampa to defy.

Taking a deep breath and adopting an aggressive stance, Sophie took a few steps forward and sent the end of the rope flying at Phoenix’s haunches, just enough to urge him around the pen but not actually hitting him. The horse snorted and tossed his head, setting off at an erratic canter. Halfway around the pen, he tried to turn the other way but a firm ‘hah!’ and raise of her hands made sure he kept in the right direction.

It was dark but Sophie kept her eyes trained on Phoenix’s deep chocolate ones, keeping her shoulders square to his, not relenting in chasing him away. He was stubborn, but she was even more stubborn. The moment he showed signs of slowing down, she sent the rope flying again, setting a rhythm. Coil, toss, coil, toss. After a while, he still hadn’t responded the way she wanted him to. Deciding it was time for a change, Sophie stepped into his path, raising her hands abruptly.

Startled, Phoenix whined, bucked, and turned in the other direction. Sophie drove him on, hoping to the high heavens that the noise hadn’t awaked either her Grampa or Gramma. She’d been expressly told to stay away from the horse after he threw her off while on a trail ride. But she wasn’t going to obey that particular order. Not when everything in her blood was so attuned to him.

She didn’t know how long she kept this up, switching directions at least twice, but it was long enough. She could feel the chill creeping into her bones, the ache in her muscles as her small legs kept up the pace, the tiredness of her mind, awake when she should’ve been in bed. Then things began to change. Phoenix’s pace began to slow, evening out as he trotted around, his inner ear turned towards the center, towards Sophie, and her heart began to beat in anticipation.

He stayed like that for a couple more rounds and Sophie began to test him. She held the rope still in her hands, using only her body to keep his pace steady. A few steps closer made him go faster, staying still reduced him to a walk. She kept this up until Phoenix lowered his head, chewing and licking his lips as he trotted. It was nearly impossible for Sophie to keep her heart from bursting out of her chest in joy, but she did it. She kept him going for a little while and there it was again, the bowing of the head as he chewed the air. I don't want to run away anymore.

Seeing that, Sophie dropped her aggressive stance, keeping him at a slow walk and moving her body until her back was facing him, watching him with only the corner of her eyes. Phoenix came to a stop. Very slowly, she walked towards him - keeping her eyes down this time - just three steps, before turning away again. Then the magic happened. Phoenix followed her. All the way to the center of the pen where she stopped. He nudged her shoulder with his muzzle. I trust you. Slowing turning around and reaching up, she gently rubbed his forehead.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “Good boy.”

Turning away again, she began to walk around the pen, Phoenix following with his head at her shoulder. Nothing joined horse and human. At least, nothing physical. But they were connected by something stronger than rope and halter. It was a bond forged from trust.

And in that moment, Sophie knew this was what she was born to do.

[[OOC: In case anyone's interested xD]]

Guest

Spoiler:

Kamren sat at his desk, head feeling heavy after the stressful day he'd had. The Ministry was in turmoil with current events, and it was most certainly not easy to get away. Closing his eyes for but a moment, Kamren ran his fingers over his closed eyes, and then rubbed at his temples, thinking of home.

***

The soft sound of a baby's cries filled the room, the Healers of St. Mungo's rushed back and forth, doing the things necessary to help the small child with it's first few breaths. The hand in his still held on tightly as Kamren's eyes fell on the child that had just come in to this world, but after a few of the small child's breaths, and the screams growing louder his wife's hand began to lose tension. Kamren's eyes moved back to his wife's with a smile, a relieved smile, but also a blessed smile.

"We've got a little girl, Claire." Kamren told the witch softly, reaching up to press a soft kiss on her lips as a tear slid down his cheek. Happiness, that's what it was.

"Would you like to cut the cord, Mr Jennson?" The Healer asked, and with Clarinda's nod of assent, Kamren moved to do just that. Cutting the umbilical cord where the Healer's showed him to, their daughter was handed to Kamren who moved back to Clarinda, and depositing their small bundle of joy in her arms.

"She's so perfect..." Kamren whispered to his wife as their daughter settled in her arms. His eyes were greedy, lapping up every detail of their daughter, before finally, he spoke again. Only once more. A name. "Faith."

***

Faith had grown so quickly. Her hair growing longer, her cheeks cuter, her smile sweeter. Kamren's heart had been opened up to another since the day his eyes had landed on the witch. She was the spitting image of her mother. Beautiful, in every way. She had Clarinda's hair. Clarinda's nose. Clarinda's smile, and even Clarinda's toes.

But her eyes, her eyes were the same as her father's, the only part (thankfully) that she had inherited.

"Are you coming to get Daddy?" Kamren cooed as Faith pushed herself up on to her hands and knees, thinking about crawling as Kamren laid on his own tummy, watching her with a smile. Clarinda was away at work, due home any moment, Kamren as usual, at home with their daughter. "Come on, Faye, you can do it." He insisting, cooing her some more as she got up again and tried to crawl. Kamren pulled himself a little bit closer as Faith moved forwards... one pace... and another...

The fire lit up, signalling the arrival of his wife.

"There's Mummy!" Kamren announced, pushing himself up and picking Faith up, drawing her in to his chest as he turned to his wife with a smile. "We're getting better at our crawling, Mummy!" Kamren told his wife, looking from his daughter to Clarinda with a smile before he got up, crossing the room and giving her a soft peck on the lips.

His little family, so very perfect in ever-

***

"Minister..."

Kamren jumped from his day dream, noticing his secretary stood before him with some more papers to sign. "Thank you, Thomas." The Minister replied, accepting the papers and promising to work on them later.

The Minister of Magic could never, ever, be allowed a moment to ponder on ho things could have been.

OOC: This is in an AU world where Lux has not been adopted by the Jennsons. I mean no offensive by leaving her out.

Guest

How Does a Girl Like You Get to Be a Girl Like You:

Watching. Waiting. Tick tock. Lux’s nose was pressed against the window, her eyes never leaving the driveway. Slowly, steadily, the clock behind her counted the seconds that passed as her quiet breath fogged the cold window pane. It was now past ten at night. And still she waited. Two hours, twenty minutes, and forty-one seconds. Forty-two. Forty-three. The house was dark and still. But it wasn’t the darkness that bothered her. She’d purposely turned the lights off, preferring the dark to the light. It was the fact that they should have been home two hours, twenty minutes, and fifty seconds ago.

She sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes keeping vigilant watch. Her left hand mindlessly opening and closing her scissors, the smooth swishing noise like music to her ears. Beside her, Rascal gave out a low whine and a quiet huff as he too, watched and waited. Automatically, her cold fingers found the dog's thick fur and buried themselves in the golden richness. Without thinking, she dropped a kiss on his head, and Rascal lifted his muzzle to return the kiss.

Today was The Day. She’d made her decision right after she’d come home from school. For the first time in her entire life, she would call her parents, not by their first name, but by the intimate term the other kids at school called their parents. Mummy and Daddy. Those words had never passed through her lips except in contempt and disgust. But today, when they got home, she would call them Mummy and Daddy. Or maybe Mother and Father. No, Mother and Father seemed too...impersonal.

She could just picture how they’d react when she greeted them. Chr - Daddy would probably lift her in the air and swing her around. Maybe kiss her head. He would be grinning and there would be lines at the corners of his eyes because there were always lines there when he smiled. Melo - Mummy would probably cover her mouth with her hands but her eyes would sparkle and she would smile. She would probably kiss her head too.

Watching. Waiting. Tick tock. Two hours, forty-five minutes, fifty-six seconds. Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight.

Rascal whined, his tail beating a steady staccato on the floor. Another whine. One bark. Two barks. Rascal hardly ever barked

“What’s up?” Lux asked, her voice sounding foreign to her in the deathly silence of the house.

Rascal got up, trotted to the door and proceeded to do the one thing he knew he was forbidden to do. Scratch, scratch. Whine. Bark. Scratch. Then he howled. A long, soulful, anguished howl that made goosebumps pimple her skin.

Something was very very wrong. Not able to sit still and wait any longer, Lux slid the bolts open on the door, grabbing a chair and climbing on so she could reach the ones higher up. Taking a tight grip on Rascal’s a collar and cherishing his presence by her side, she stepped out into the night, heading for one place. The hospital. Mummy worked there and it was a ten minute walk if she went fast enough. As she neared, sounds reached her ears. Sounds of panic, confusion, shock. Lux quickened her pace, rounded the last corner, and stopped abruptly at the sight that greeted her eyes.

A few meters from the hospital, a furnace lit up the night sky, its burning hues of orange and yellow playing with the shadows in a beautiful yet sinister dance. Lux’s sharp eyes swept the scene and picked up information.

Two cars, one overturned and in flames = car crash. Two black bags on the road = two deaths. One stretcher = one injured. Fire not yet put out = happened not too long ago.

“Hey, kid! Get out of here,” someone called.

“Who is it? Who was in the accident?” Lux pressed, feeling the urgent needed to know though she didn’t quite understand why. This wasn’t just plain curiosity. It was something else, a foreboding deep in her soul she could not comprehend but could not deny.

The paramedic shrugged.

Lux did not stay to hear what he had to say. Together with Rascal, she slipped past the paramedic and headed straight for the body bags. Just as she got close enough, she was pulled backwards.

“Let me go, you brainless codpiece!” Lux retorted, giving a firm kick to the paramedic’s shin, making him loosen his grip on her and leaving him wondering how a seven-year-old knew what a codpiece was.

Rascal’s threatening growl kept the man away as Lux pulled the zip on the black bag. She did not scream at the half-burnt face that stared up at her. She did not even flinch. She just took in the sight that once was Dadd - no, that once was Chris. She couldn’t think of him as ‘Daddy’ now. His eyes, once so full of life and laughter were now shut, claimed by death. The next bag she unzipped revealed Melody’s lifeless body. She wasn’t as badly burned but she was bashed up pretty badly. The lips that once kissed her goodnight - though she made a big fuss because she hated being kissed - were now cracked and blue.

Lux felt a pain shooting through her chest right to the center of her being as if life was slowly draining from her heart. She’d actually belonged to a family, knew what it was like to be treasured, to be loved, to laugh, to live. In one instant it was all taken away from her, leaving behind a crushing weight of loss, grief, anguish, all the feelings she’d never known because she hadn't allowed herself to get close enough to anyone to care for them. She’d never let herself be loved and love in return.

And as she knelt on the pavement, clothed in the sound of sirens and the flicker of emergency lights, she made a promise to herself. I will never trust or love anyone ever again. They all leave me eventually.

Guest

Quote :: Describe an event that changed your character’s life forever, or make up and describe an event that would change your character’s life forever.

The hospital was as full and as busy as it ever would be; a bomb had gone off somewhere, followed by attacts from a group of rogue wizards. They'd kept their focus mainly on destroying properties, but the flying debris had done their damage, and all around her were patients with different wounds. None were particularly life threatening, and despite being assigned to the Spell Damage ward it was an 'all-hands-on-deck' sort of thing, and as she had no patients needing immediate attention in her ward, she was running (or rather, hurrdily walking; one never ran unless absolutely necessary; it had a tendency to freak out patients) around doing different minor healings.

There's been the man with shrap metal in his leg from a lamp post; a woman with multiple burns on both arms; a child who had falled and hit his head, although on what she couldn't tell; an auror who got hit with some sort of wooden plank, causing splinters in a nasty-looking, but shallow, wound in his side; and countless others.

She didn't even bother storing her wand. At every turn she made, at every step forward, there was someone in need of help, and with professional speed, Clarinda dealt with patient after patient, sending them off if they were healed and sending them to a ward if they needed overnight watch.

It was busy, but, as odd as it sounded, she was enjoying herself; this was where she was meant to be.

"Healer Warren, there's someone on bed tweleve in room six that needs attention," a voice from somewhere said, and without turning to see who it was she gave a nod of acknowledgement and started over.

As she passed by the waiting area, she glanced inside as was custom, people watching always having been a habit of hers, and then continued onwards to bed tweleve, where she mended a couple of broken bones before turning her attention to whomever was next on the list.

It could have been an hour or it could've been four (later on, she'd glance at the clock and find it had actually been two) she finally finished her shift and let out a slow breath. She hadn't had a chance to breathe, let alone sit or rest since the whole hullabaloo started. Not only that, but she'd actually worked overtime, having been originally supposed to end a good three hours ago. Still, it had been worth it; saving lives would always take a priority.

Deciding a mug of hot, hot tea would do her some good before she headed back to her rented apartment, Clarinda began towards the Healer break room, passing by the waiting room yet again as she did.

Once again glancing inside, her footsteps stopped abruptly as she saw a man sitting in what she'd come to recognise as the 'someone-just-died' posture. He looked helpless, as though having lost the only person he ever cared about, and there was just something about it that tugged at her. How many people on the brink of death had she comforted? How many times did she have to break the news to family that a son, father, brother, sister, lover, or anything else, had not made it?

That was easy: too many. Technically, her job was done. She could go home and rest; she had another shift the next day, and she would need sleep if she was going to focus well. So, she bit down the feelings that rose inside and forced herself to walk onwards.

The cup of tea was made with subconcious movements, piping hot as she liked it. But as she began to stir in a spoon of sugar, her mind went to that man. As much as she tried to shake him from her thoughts, the picture of him sitting there with his face in his hands haunted her. With a slight sigh, knowing that her conscience wouldn't leave her alone if she left, she reached for a second mug and teabag, abandoning her own mug as she did.

It wasn't as hot as hers had been -- she added a bit of cold water to make it drinkable -- but it was still hot, and she carried it carefully down the hallway, muttering to herself as she did. This was insane; she was insane. What was she thinking? This wouldn't do any good. She should just mind her own business, as trained. Follow protocol and not take anything personally.

She hesitated at the entrance to the waiting room before, with slow, deliberate steps, made her way to the man on the chair.

"Excuse me, sir?" she started, feeling just a bit foolish. "I thought you could do with a cup of tea and... and someone to talk to." Now she was feeling really foolish, but she pushed forward; she was already this far. "If you want to, of course. I'm Clarinda, by the way."

It had been a hell of an introduction, but the man, whom she would come to discover was named Kamren Jennson, had not only been comforted by her but smitten. A year later, they'd get engaged; a few years after that, he'd become the Minister of Magic; and, a few years after that, they would come to adopt a beautiful young lady as their daughter.

But Clarinda didn't know any of that; in that moment, all she knew was that there was someone in need, and that she was the one who could help. It was but one moment, one decision, that didn't seem that important.

The rest was for her -- for them -- to discover, in time.

Guest

Describe an event that changed your character’s life forever, or make up and describe an event that would change your character’s life forever. wrote:

[b]9]
Stillness.

Lucy wanted nothing more then to be normal, she had been in a rehabilitation clinic for three months now. Today, like a lot of days and almost the entire time she had been here she was on the swing. The adult sized version.

Stillness.

Lucy felt stillness even though she was swinging back and forth, she hated the scar on her shoulder. Lucy however hated more what it meant, what it represented. She'd failed as a witch. She'd failed in being normal. A normal that was not achievable. Not so far.

Magic she wished she could get like others did. She stared at the grass as she gently swung herself, she went at a fairly decent speed, not too high but not too low either. Just enough to go above general swinging speed.

Lucy sighed and imagined what life would be like if she was normal. Maybe her parents wouldn't have split. Maybe she wouldn't have been abducted. Perhaps maybe even Nero and her might of had a chance. The chances of that now were almost none. Who would want a broken squib.

Staring at the grass Lucy pictured herself with Nero, but as a normal person. Perhaps she could have been a painter, perhaps she could have worked for him. Get an internship, then have him fall in love with her.

Wait...why was she thinking like this? She was in a rehabilitation ward, for her problems. Why was she even thinking of Nero. She held no grudge to him. No. It wasn't his fault that she had been abducted. She begrudged him nothing.

Perhaps. Perhaps if she was different. Maybe better. Maybe he would ask her out again. Auror Jake had come around, even after she had told him her honest opinion. About her wanting to die. There had been two attempts while in here, and one while she had been in hospital before here. Now. Now she wasn't sure. She didn't want to die. ..But what did she have to live for?

Nero.

She had a man, a friend, someone who had passion. Jake had offered to help with self defence. Not with the magic kind, but hand to hand. Perhaps she could get her confidence back.

Nero.

Lucy slowly began to realise as she sat on the swing that she wanted the man. As a friend, or as more, she wanted to have his company. Lucy wanted him, and unless something changed she was never going to see him.

Slowly something within her changed. It wasn't a day fix. It took several weeks, but slowly she became the Lucy from before. Almost. She bore new scars, but she wanted to become a better person. If she wanted to have Jake back and believe in her as a friend, she needed to get out of here to get his offer underway.

After that maybe she could go for Nero. Maybe he would court her. Maybe not. She didn't mind but she would never know if she never got out of here.

Days passed and Lucy slowly became more and more like herself, there was that glimmer of the spark again. The spark that gave Lucy her motivation. Bits that made Lucy well...Lucy.

The next time she was assessed there was a positive report. Lucy had contacted Jake and finally she was released on the condition that if she relapsed she would be back in for a much longer time. She packed her bag, texted her mother once she got her phone back to tell her she was coming home. Lucy wasn't allowed to be at her own apartment, not without someone there.

Nero had given Lucy hope, a glimmer. He might not of known it but she knew he had paid for her to be here. For that she was grateful. She was grateful he had stayed away as well. Lucy hadn't wanted anyone to see her while she was in a lesser state.

Finally relased she was able to find herself. Going to her mother's farm. She was ready to begin again. b]

Posts : 1364 Join date : 2015-12-20

Writing Prompt now closed.

Please can everyone vote ONCE for their favourite one shot from the above - the poll will be up for a week!

Thanks!

» Writing Prompt Five
» Writing Prompt Challenge One
» Writing Challenge - Prompt Three
» Prompt Two (TW: The Prompt Includes Death - So Continue on Your Own Discretion)
» Writing Prompts