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Post by Jᴀy V. Aꜱᴛᴇʀ 💀🐍 on Mar 15, 2015 6:48:06 GMT
AND A HAPPY IDES OF MARCH TO YOU TOO, FELLOW STEVIANS! Now that we're right in the middle of the month, it's time to pick up the pace! For those of you who are doing Camp, listen up! If you're not even doing Camp, feel free to join in anyway!
Let's start with some free writing to loosen up the muse: each day for the next five days, we'll be doing 10 minutes of free writing. You can write about anything you want. Need to outline? Time to get some ideas down! Prefer flying by the seat of your pants? Now's the time to run around freely in your new story worldwith the rain on your skin and the wind in your hair, before the word monkeys arrive! If you don't have an idea yet, why not brainstorm? Rebel? Yes, go ahead and start writing if that's what you prefer!
Once you're done, share what you worked on! This is your chance to run anything you have doubts about by others. Don't worry if it's a mess -- this stage is just about getting it all out of your head and onto paper. If you end up writing more than a thousand words though, just pick the best 1k or less chunk to share.
Post your Day 1 stuff on this thread. We will be starting a new thread for each day of this exercise.
Since there aren't too many responses, we'll just do all five days on this thread. Day 2 prompt below!
For those of you who need a writing prompt, here's the Day 1 Prompt:
You're sitting in the center of a pitch black room. You can't see anything. Now the lights slowly fade on, and you see someone sitting across from you. This person is your main character. Don't think -- just write down what you notice about them. Now start asking this person questions. What did you ask? What did they answer?
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Post by eileenk98 on Mar 15, 2015 13:05:31 GMT
I think I went over the ten minutes, but once I got into the groove, I just couldn't stop.
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Post by Jᴀy V. Aꜱᴛᴇʀ 💀🐍 on Mar 16, 2015 4:26:06 GMT
I soon realized that I was writing not from my POV, but from the POV of one of the other characters in my SSSS story. It looks like I have the beginnings of what might become the next episode. Unfortunately, since i only learned that halfway in, this still sounds like me.
----
The lights go on in a flash of silent lightning, and the face of Nameless the necromancer jumps out of the dancing shadows like the stuff of nightmares: bone white skin, hollow pits for eyes, long, dark hair, complete with ominous grotto, swirling dark robes, sorcerer's staff, gleaming skull, doom lute, and on his face a murderous scowl meant to frighten novices straight into the first circle of darkness. He always liked showing off. From what I know of him, he can live up to it, too. He was nearly made King Ironheart's executioner, for it was said that a curl of his finger could send even the most hardy mortal straight to the dark gates. Then again, that's what they say of all necromancers. Even so, I've heard odd things about Nameless' affinity for arts other than his own. That's unusual in a necromancer. At one point they say he almost got appointed to the Hall of Reapers. I've never heard thee was any truth to the rumor, but the thought of Nameless one day succeeding to my job sends a chill down my spine.
The image dissipates. The doorkeeper spell to the gates of Oblivion recognized him, but the man across from me is but a shaodw of that image. Nameless sits upright, but he looks exhausted. I pour a drink. The glass scrapes the wooden table as I slide it across to him. He drinks it readily, and now there are two pale spots of color on his cheeks. His hair is shot with gray, and his robe is dirty. He looks shrunken sitting in that chair. For a moment I wonder why he chose to inhabit the body of an old man. Hpwas he on the run? Had he no choice? Then he drains his drink and meets my eyes, and I jump. That's no mortal thrall. That's him, but barely.
He reaches into his robe, and thunks half a yellowed skull onto the table. The jaw and several teeth are missing. Incredibly though, the only thing that looks smaller and more lonely than it is Nameless himself. The man is near death. Ishould know. What is he playing at?
"I don't have much time," he says, "But for the last eternity, this is the only friend and companion I have had. It comes with a strong bond of loyalty. I need not remind you of its value in Immortal circles."
He doesn't need to remind me. Loyalty, being a bond that cannot be tainted by Dark or Light origins, is highly prized by sorcerers of both sides. Few value it more than Nameless himself, whose skill was forged in the tenuous employ and later friendship of the bastard king, in whose court alliances are as gold, and true trust and friendship rare and valued as the crown jewels themselves.
Then Nameless added, "I will sell you this trinket in return for sending the armies of our enemy Queen Shun to attack the hold of King Ironheart."
I sat up straight. Very interesting indeed.
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Post by Jᴀy V. Aꜱᴛᴇʀ 💀🐍 on Mar 16, 2015 4:31:03 GMT
Day 2:
If your main character had to choose between the two things he/she values most, what would those two things be, how would this choice come about, and what would he/she choose?
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Post by Danielle Wayland on Mar 16, 2015 6:24:43 GMT
Jumping in late!
Day 1:
The first thing that I notice is that he (because it's always a male for me haha) doesn't seem too inclined to look up. He's quite content staring down at his bare feet, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Did I mention that he's sitting on the floor? Yeah well, he is. His clothes are lovingly care for, though the age is quite evident; a muscle tee covered by a hoodie that's a bit swampy on his frame and khakis with the pockets all open. I'm guessing he's around oh… late 20's or so. His hair's shoulder length too, which helps to keep his eyes hidden and shadow his face. He's got a pit of stubble on his jaw. It takes me a moment to realize that he just might be homeless.
My first question would be: what is your name? He pretends not to have heard me but he answers all the same: Aldwin, maybe. I'm pretty sure that's a last name, but he insists on it. So, Aldwin it is. No last name, but that's okay. I want to ask his life story, but it's too soon for that and I'm pretty sure he won't say anything. Instead I question why he's so quiet. Are you shy? No, just don't have much to say. I don't mind brooding types but his constant evasion of eye contact is driving me up the wall. Why won't he look at me? Are those old scars on the back of his hand? Where did they come from? A natural accident, I hope? But still no answer. It's frustrating. But Aldwin presents a good challenge. Can't complain about that.
**I went with a new character cuz I dunno what I want to do with Camp yet. Not really sure about this guy, but we'll see.
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Post by eileenk98 on Mar 17, 2015 0:10:29 GMT
Day 2:
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Post by Jᴀy V. Aꜱᴛᴇʀ 💀🐍 on Mar 17, 2015 3:14:18 GMT
Okay, apparently I suck at sticking to prompts, so here is my attempt at actually doing prompt #1 properly. It's still fromt he POV of Death.
The hallways of Oblivion wore whatever semblance they chose, though how the mechanism worked was a secret long lost to the mages of old. I sometimes thought they were telepathic. Today they wore a luminous twilight haze. It reminded me of the outer gate of Meriolot, the other half of Oblivion, which faced the Light. I hadn't seen it in ages. This was ominous.
I had only one question. "Why?" "I need to go home," said Nameless, quietly. He sat back. "Does the King's summons mean nothing?" "There are two things more important to me than Iaregor. My life, and my art." "If either of those was true, you would not be here. Ironheart's word is law. He only can grant those back to you." "He will not undo his own sentence." "Ironheart did this to you?" "Which is why I need to kill him first." ....
"I took a vow to honor the art and the realm first." "On the contrary, "The Gates burn," he said. How could he see that?
---
So I ended up combining it with 2 a bit, and still failed 1. It has been way more than ten minutes though, so time to stop.
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Post by Jᴀy V. Aꜱᴛᴇʀ 💀🐍 on Mar 17, 2015 3:20:32 GMT
Day 3 prompt: if your character could become their own ideal self, who would that ideal self be? That is, would they be taller? More muscled? A superhero? Honorable and heroic? A dashing bad boy? A brilliant musical genius with a perfect hourglass figure? An angsty but adorable immortal time traveler with all the cool gadgets? Now, who would their villain be?
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Post by eileenk98 on Mar 17, 2015 23:59:42 GMT
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Post by Jᴀy V. Aꜱᴛᴇʀ 💀🐍 on Mar 18, 2015 4:33:12 GMT
Got home very late from work today. No sub today. Guess I get to do two tomorrow.
Day 4 prompt: How would your character be different if they were the antagonist instead of the protagonist, or vice versa?
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Post by eileenk98 on Mar 18, 2015 12:40:29 GMT
Ronan and Aiden are sitting in Aiden’s family room, which is really nice, watching their old VHS tape of Star Trek episodes. It’s the first time in a month they’ve done this, actually the first time in a month that Aiden has dared bring up anything Trek-related in Ronan’s presence. He’s still not sure if his best friend is ready for this, but the good thing about a tape is that they can stop it if they want. Aiden keeps the remote close to him, just in case. They’re about halfway through the second episode on the tape, the one about the mirror universe (that might even be the title of the episode, “Mirror Universe;” Aiden isn’t sure, but he doesn’t dare bring it up, because the last time he admitted he didn’t know a Klingon from a Romulan, Ronan hit him over the head with a plastic starship model, and he doesn’t want a repeat of that episode), when Ronan suddenly says, “What would the bad you be like?” “What?” “Your evil self. What would he be like? Would he have a beard?” “I don’t know. Maybe.” “No, come on! He’s you in a cruel and vicious universe. What’s he like?” “Well . . .” Aiden thinks seriously about the not-so-nice parts of his personality. “He uses people. He only keeps around those who can help him get ahead, and when their usefulness runs out, he tosses them aside without a second look and won’t ever speak to them again.” “What’s he wearing?” “What?” “Leather, you think?” “Yeah, maybe. Lots of black leather and chains. Removable chains, so he can pull them off and beat someone with them. And he’s got all sorts of sigils and runes painted on his jacket.” “Satanic stuff?” “He doesn’t know if they’re Satanic, and he doesn’t care. He just thinks they look cool.” “Does he have a beard?” “I don’t think so. I think he shaves his head. Yeah, and he’s got a big tattoo of a dragon across his scalp. A black dragon, breathing fire down the back of his neck.” “That is so cool.” “Yeah. Must hurt like hell to get your scalp tattooed, though. But he doesn’t care. What’s yours like?” “He builds weapons of moderate destruction. Cause he’s not ready for anything bigger yet. Like, medium-sized bombs. They do weird things, though, like destroy any clothing fibers for six blocks.” “Why would you--I mean, he--want to do that?” “Cause he’s crazy. Dangerous crazy. You can never tell what he’s going to do at any given moment. He keeps an antique dueling pistol in his right coat pocket--he has one of those long black trench coat things--but he never uses it. Sometimes he takes it out and waves it around while he’s talking.” “So . . . black trench coat . . . boots?” “Doc Martens. Just cause he thinks they’re cool, even though they were cool like thirty years ago. Everyone else thinks he’s dumb, but they don’t dare say it to his face, cause he might shoot them. He’s the kind of person who should be locked up, but isn’t for some reason. They hate him, but they’re too scared of him to do anything about it.” “I don’t want to do this anymore.” Aiden feels suddenly uncomfortable, even though it’s supposed to be just a game. Clearly, Ronan’s given this some thought. “Wanna know what our band’s called in the mirror universe?” “We still have the band?” “Pounds of Pain. It could mean pounds as in weight, or English pounds that they use for money, or it could mean pounding on someone. We play black death metal, really loud and obnoxious. Oh, and Jake has an organ that makes sparks when he hits the minor keys. And Kandi’s drumsticks are little whips. She’s got this bondage babe thing going on, tight leather and lace. And Colleen--“ “Ro, enough!” He doesn’t want to hear what Colleen’s wearing. He doesn’t want to think of her as anything but the sweet, wonderful girl she is. “This was a bad idea. Let me back it up, and we can watch the rest of the program.” Ronan doesn’t say anything right away. After about ten minutes of watching the program in silence, he says in a small voice, “You mad at me?” “No,” Aiden admits. “I just didn’t like the game anymore. I don’t want you to be that guy. Not even for pretend.” “Oh. Okay. So you’re not mad?” “Well, I will be if you don’t let it go.” “Message received, Commander.” And that’s that.
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Post by Jᴀy V. Aꜱᴛᴇʀ 💀🐍 on Mar 19, 2015 2:27:07 GMT
Day 5 - last prompt for this exercise!
Write a scene where your character is their own worst enemy.
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Post by Danielle Wayland on Mar 19, 2015 6:02:33 GMT
I'm super late doing these but better late than never, amiright? Day 2:
In his current life, Aldwin doesn't have much that he values. He's seen how quick and fleeting things are now, thanks to his immortality, but if he had to pick, it would be between his old life and his Master. The choice might seem simple to an outsider: living in a mansion, blood within easy reach and no worries about being raided in the middle of the night, why would anyone want to go back to a life of scavenging for food? Because a street rat is always a street rat, and that period of his life was the only time where he truly felt alive. He misses sneaking about, stealing, being outdoors and having to answer to no-one. Sure it was tough at times, but the support system for his kind was strong, and he was never truly alone. So then that brings us to his other choice, his Master, Mathieu [surname] the IV. Rich, suave, handsome and kind to those he likes, it's hard to imagine why Aldwin would lean more towards having his old life back. Simply put, Aldwin hates his Master. He was never asked to be changed and he absolutely abhors it when the other tries to ween him out of his 'feral dog' stage by buying him expensive clothes and socializing him with 'proper' people. But there's a connection between them, a bond that's literally forged by blood, and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, Aldwin always finds himself bending his knee and following his orders. He wants the man dead and out of his life, but he knows if that were to ever happen, he'd be miserable, a lost soul where nowhere felt like home. In the end, Aldwin would choose Mathieu. He's not an idiot. Breaking the bond between them would be more trouble than it's worth, and besides, a warm comfy bed beats sleeping on damp cardboard any day of the week. *Notes: So yeah, I had an epiphany about Aldwin the other day and realized that he's a fledgling vampire. It makes sense to me. It explains why he won't make eye contact and where those scars on his hands came from. And I was midway right about him being homeless
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Post by Danielle Wayland on Mar 19, 2015 6:45:04 GMT
Day 3:
Ideally, Aldwin would like to become someone who blends into the crowd, an everyday Joe. He hates sticking out like a sore thumb, as it means people are paying attention to him when all he wants is to become one with the shadows. He's not exactly shy and the terms introvert and extrovert sound like insects to him, but he likes his privacy and hates it when people try to pry into his private life. He keeps his head down not only to hide his vampirism but also to keep people back, though it only makes them curious.
For Mathieu… that's a bit harder to answer! He's got money, a high standard education, looks, and a whole flock under his care. He loves his life the way it is. Though, at times, he does have fantasies in which he envisions he could actually age a little. He was bitten in his early twenties some 100 or so years ago (the story will more than likely take place in our universe, so his immortality began in the early 1900's), and though he loves trolling people for thinking he's a pretty boy aristocrat, he wishes for physical maturity. I think… he's rather jealous of those old, eccentric billionaires!
*Note: I wasn't too entirely sure what you meant by 'who would their villain be' so I... didn't include a villain!
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Post by Jᴀy V. Aꜱᴛᴇʀ 💀🐍 on Mar 23, 2015 5:18:34 GMT
Well well, so it looks like these might have helped some people, so guess what, surprise prompt!*
Day 6: What does your character REALLY hate that people do? Are there any circumstances where they would then be forced to do the thing?
*A.k.a Agent's pitiful attempt cleverly disguised ploy to hide her woeful lack of a new Camp surprise exercise.
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