Brain Storming/Writing Prompts
- Thread starter LittleSin
- Start date
YUP[DOUBLEPOST=1401170932,1401170824][/DOUBLEPOST]http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/
Pick one out. I double dog dare you. Then I'll pick one for you and magic will happen.
#druuuuuuuuuuuuuuunk
Pick one out. I double dog dare you. Then I'll pick one for you and magic will happen.
#druuuuuuuuuuuuuuunk
Oooooo. What a great reddit!
I chooooooose...[WP] You're driving in a foreign country at night, and see a young man crying at the side of the road. You stop to talk to him.
You have your challenge!
I also saw this one and could not resist.
[WP] In a nocturnal society, being out after sunrise means trouble, and you're about to find out why.
"We're not going to make it," the rain had stopped hours ago but Commanders voice still trembled as if afflicted by the cold it had brought with it. He had been working for hours, they all had. The rain had long dried from their clothing, replaced by the sweat of their labours. Strong, exhausted men and women looked from their work in building back up the ceiling cover, to the steely eyed man that had been barking orders and urging them on wards, to the sky that intruded on them above.
It was no longer inky black and dripping precipitation. It was becoming grey, violet around it edges....
There was a wave of panic. Some began to work faster in the face of that sight, despite the fact that were weren't even half way finished and sometimes the slightest bit of progress would tumble down around them because of how bogged down with wet it was.
Others began to back away...maybe they could clear the tunnels back to the main city or pack into some shady space until night had come again! Yet there was so many of them...the elderly and the children...the weak and infirm!
Arguments broke out as they scattered like cockroaches for those over hangs, people being knocked back into the space between the lightening patch above them.
The Commander regained control of his voice, putting its hard edge back in place. "LISTEN. Gather whatever cloaks we can! Gloves and goggles as well! I need able bodied volunteers to work during the Light! Children and the elderly are to get back into the out croppings and keep their eyes ad bodies in shadow!"
Some protested but most obeyed. At least SOMEBODY had taken charge!
Cloaks and gear were gathered...in the end only enough for twenty. Twenty people to attempt to close the gap during the light.
They could fit only fifty in the shade, tightly packed like canned sardines.
The despair then was understandable. They were one hundred, after all, not counting the children. With children they were one hundred and ten. Sent out to build an expansion for their growing population...no one from the main city would even know of their dire straits for hours if not for days.
The Commander made his heart into stone, his mind ice. "We will have a draw. No children may enter it...everyone else must. First the twenty volunteers."
Near all who were able entered that draw, figuring hard dangerous labour with protective clothing better than potentially being left ot the open rays.
The sky was brighter over head but not yet fully lit by the sun.
Twenty volunteers were chosen, families were kissed and they were sent to suit up.
Another draw for the forty spots, the children having already earned their place. The Commander watched with all with an eagle eyed gaze. Watched as people sobbed in relief in hearing their names. Watched when, at the end, people began to trade their lots...so that Mrs. Henry could stay with her toddler while Mr. Son took her place in the Open. Then others cursed and spit and had to be put down with fist and tied with ropes.
He had left no spot for himself amongst the volunteers or covered.
Work began. It was quiet except for relayed information or instructions and the sound of their steady construction.
The sky above was blue..then golden rays crept in like fingers.
There was gasping and sobbing...those in the open were backing away, trying to prolong their time. The Commander was one of them. Fear was winning.
Mr. Son was first. He sat cross legged on the ground, trying to breathe deeply. His expression serene, eyes closed. He never saw the light slink to the corner of his pinky finger.
There was that crackling noise, they graying of his skin...and he was as immovable as the walls around them. A statue wearing clothing.
People wailed and panicked, their hearts failing at the fight but he kept his nerve. Pushing them back from those who had drawn Cover. Throwing them out and pushing those in Cover back wards more tightly.
More statues...more panic.
Soon there was only him and a few others left. The shade had increased, the workers spurred by the drama below them. His sight was dimming from staring at the sun for too long.
Night came. It was he and one other who had huddled in on himself that remained of those in the open.
He had made it. His sight was gone, eyes dry as stone. Perhaps they were. He feared to ask. There was no cheer for night. No rejoicing. Only a switching of volunteers and some embracing those crumbling statues.
They had lived but this...this would stay with them forever.
Eeeeeeeeeeeh...crappy work but what the hell.
I chooooooose...[WP] You're driving in a foreign country at night, and see a young man crying at the side of the road. You stop to talk to him.
You have your challenge!
I also saw this one and could not resist.
[WP] In a nocturnal society, being out after sunrise means trouble, and you're about to find out why.
"We're not going to make it," the rain had stopped hours ago but Commanders voice still trembled as if afflicted by the cold it had brought with it. He had been working for hours, they all had. The rain had long dried from their clothing, replaced by the sweat of their labours. Strong, exhausted men and women looked from their work in building back up the ceiling cover, to the steely eyed man that had been barking orders and urging them on wards, to the sky that intruded on them above.
It was no longer inky black and dripping precipitation. It was becoming grey, violet around it edges....
There was a wave of panic. Some began to work faster in the face of that sight, despite the fact that were weren't even half way finished and sometimes the slightest bit of progress would tumble down around them because of how bogged down with wet it was.
Others began to back away...maybe they could clear the tunnels back to the main city or pack into some shady space until night had come again! Yet there was so many of them...the elderly and the children...the weak and infirm!
Arguments broke out as they scattered like cockroaches for those over hangs, people being knocked back into the space between the lightening patch above them.
The Commander regained control of his voice, putting its hard edge back in place. "LISTEN. Gather whatever cloaks we can! Gloves and goggles as well! I need able bodied volunteers to work during the Light! Children and the elderly are to get back into the out croppings and keep their eyes ad bodies in shadow!"
Some protested but most obeyed. At least SOMEBODY had taken charge!
Cloaks and gear were gathered...in the end only enough for twenty. Twenty people to attempt to close the gap during the light.
They could fit only fifty in the shade, tightly packed like canned sardines.
The despair then was understandable. They were one hundred, after all, not counting the children. With children they were one hundred and ten. Sent out to build an expansion for their growing population...no one from the main city would even know of their dire straits for hours if not for days.
The Commander made his heart into stone, his mind ice. "We will have a draw. No children may enter it...everyone else must. First the twenty volunteers."
Near all who were able entered that draw, figuring hard dangerous labour with protective clothing better than potentially being left ot the open rays.
The sky was brighter over head but not yet fully lit by the sun.
Twenty volunteers were chosen, families were kissed and they were sent to suit up.
Another draw for the forty spots, the children having already earned their place. The Commander watched with all with an eagle eyed gaze. Watched as people sobbed in relief in hearing their names. Watched when, at the end, people began to trade their lots...so that Mrs. Henry could stay with her toddler while Mr. Son took her place in the Open. Then others cursed and spit and had to be put down with fist and tied with ropes.
He had left no spot for himself amongst the volunteers or covered.
Work began. It was quiet except for relayed information or instructions and the sound of their steady construction.
The sky above was blue..then golden rays crept in like fingers.
There was gasping and sobbing...those in the open were backing away, trying to prolong their time. The Commander was one of them. Fear was winning.
Mr. Son was first. He sat cross legged on the ground, trying to breathe deeply. His expression serene, eyes closed. He never saw the light slink to the corner of his pinky finger.
There was that crackling noise, they graying of his skin...and he was as immovable as the walls around them. A statue wearing clothing.
People wailed and panicked, their hearts failing at the fight but he kept his nerve. Pushing them back from those who had drawn Cover. Throwing them out and pushing those in Cover back wards more tightly.
More statues...more panic.
Soon there was only him and a few others left. The shade had increased, the workers spurred by the drama below them. His sight was dimming from staring at the sun for too long.
Night came. It was he and one other who had huddled in on himself that remained of those in the open.
He had made it. His sight was gone, eyes dry as stone. Perhaps they were. He feared to ask. There was no cheer for night. No rejoicing. Only a switching of volunteers and some embracing those crumbling statues.
They had lived but this...this would stay with them forever.
Eeeeeeeeeeeh...crappy work but what the hell.
