Claim~!
Prompt: Your character wakes up to find out that no one around them remembers who they are, and sees them as a complete stranger. How do they react?
Nothing better to get those creative juices flowing than a little story prompt, right? Here's how this will go!
- Claim a post so you don't get ninja'd
- Edit your post and respond in character with 3+ sentences to the prompt
- Below your story, suggest a new prompt for the next person!
Your responses should be in the form of a short story or snippet of your character's life! For example:
Prompt: Your character steps in gum
Response: Blake was already having a rotten day, between the test she flunked and the disaster that was school lunch. Now, she thought, she was going to be late to practice because she had to stop and scrape somebody's disgusting chewed bubblegum off the bottom of her brand new track shoes. It wasn't really the worst day ever, but it was one of many that had come in a row, and Blake really needed a break. Etc...
Your response can be as long as you want it, but if you're writing a ton, make sure to leave a prompt for the next person before you embark on your novel!
So, here's your first prompt!
Your character just won a prize! What is it, and how do they react?
(if 24 hours goes by without a response, feel free to suggest a new prompt, or reuse this one!)
Brandt thought it was a typical Saturday morning as he sauntered downstairs from his room into the kitchen. It was only while he was halfway through microwaving a breakfast sandwich did he notice something was incredibly wrong when his roommate, Cal, walked in. Things seemed normal enough as he strolled in, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he picked out some fruit off the counter. Brandt gave him a glance as Cal finally seemed awake enough to look at him, but his expression wasn't that same tired yet still cheery smile he usually flashed in the morning. He looked genuinely confused, as if something foreign was latched onto Brandt's face and Cal had to rub his eyes a second time to confirm what he was seeing.
Cal finally gave him an uncertain, "Uh... hello...?" as he slowly shifted a few steps away.
Brandt raised an eyebrow, only hesitating to speak when the microwave beeped. It was even more unnerving how Cal stared at him as he took his sandwich out, as if seeing him using the appliance was for some reason incredibly inappropriate. "Morning to you too," Brandt mumbled as he walked past into the living room.
As he sat on the couch and flipped on the tv, he noticed Cal was still looking at him from the kitchen from the occasional reflection on the screen. He decided not to think too hard about it until he finished his breakfast, but it was a bit difficult to ignore when he noticed Vincent come downstairs and visibly freeze upon seeing Brandt sitting on the couch. The two stared at each other silently for a moment, Brandt only giving him a slight nod, before Vincent awkwardly hustled into the kitchen. During the few moments of quiet from the tv, he could hear Cal and Vincent whispering to each other, still obviously distressed by his presence for some reason. He noticed he had forgotten to get a drink to go with his sandwich, but it didn't seem like a good idea to walk into the kitchen again.
Another set of footsteps came from the stairs, and Brandt glanced over to see his last roommate, Cooper walk in from upstairs. He, too, paused when he saw Brandt sitting on the couch, but even though he seemed just as confused as Cal and Vincent upon seeing him, Cooper still managed a smile and a pleasant, "Good morning," anyway. What surprised Brandt was what he followed up with. "Are... you a friend of Cal's...?"
Brandt frowned. "What?" He noticed a slight hitch in Cooper's smile.
"Oh... are...? Wait..." Cooper bit his lip while considering his words. "Who are you...?"
A knot formed in Brandt's throat. Shit, not again. "I'm... Brandt, your roommate."
Cooper seemed slightly taken aback, but as usual he was remaining calm about it. "Oh... you mean the extra room? Did... you move in last night or..." He paused. "Wouldn't someone have told us if a new roommate was moving in?"
Just... play it cool until you figure out what's going on... "I moved in at the same time you guys did." Brandt noticed Cooper was occasionally glancing in the direction of the kitchen, where Cal and Vincent were likely silently conveying something to him from behind the couch.
"Did you...? I... I'm pretty sure that room was empty for a while."
Brandt sighed and turned the tv off. "Uh, yeah... I'm just... gonna go back to my room now. Sorry about this." This will roll over soon. It has to. Please don't be a long term cycle... Without waiting for another response, he got up from the couch and walked past Cooper to head back upstairs and hide back in his room. It was possible he could've just held out for the rest of the day and hope the cycle would roll over for the next day, but he knew that might not be the answer. For the time being, he lay on his bed, stared at the ceiling and hoped they'd remember the next time he stepped out.
Prompt: Your character has noticed that everyone around them, including their friends/family or even just pictures of other people, suddenly appear terrifying to look at. Nothing else seems to have changed, and no one else seems to notice or actually be more threatening than usual, but your character can't look at anyone without feeling a fear that they just can't ignore. (Preferably respond with a person who actually interacts with other people and isn't just on their own and wouldn't notice in the first place. XP)
"Is this what life is like for you, William?" Molly asked softly, her palm supporting one side of her face and her mouth twisted into a grimace. "Every day, looking at the world as if it is broken? Wrong?"
William, sitting across from her, watched this with a concerned expression. It wasn't often that she expressed pain like this, offering a visible glimmer into the world she kept behind her stoic mask, and right now he wasn't entirely certain what to do. Should he try to comfort her? Should he pretend like things were normal, and crack a joke to try to cheer her up? Would commenting on her state now cause her to withdraw within herself, or was that what she really needed? Would talking help? Would she rather have a distraction? In the end, he decided that the best course of action would be to answer her question as mildly and sympathetically as possible. "It's probably somewhat similar, but at least my friends - my family - look... normal. Comforting. I can't imagine what it's like for you right now, to not even have that."
Molly sighed, a rough sound, and then suddenly stood. William reached for her in concern, afraid she was going to do something impulsive, but she merely walked over to the tall cabinet at the edge of the dining room, opening it and retrieving a tall bottle of scotch. Uncorking it, she deposited a generous stream of amber into one of the shot-glasses in the bottom row of drinkware, and then downed it neat. She stared into space for a moment, feeling the alcoholic burn wind down her throat, and then she served herself a second and a third.
Gaping, William said with clear hesitation, "Um... Molly? Are you... okay?"
Now on her fourth, Molly turned to him, the bottle of alcohol in one hand, and her glass in the other. "No, William," she said, voice as flat and steady as ever. "I'm not. In fact, I'm possessed by a fury that I find to be uniquely unpleasant."
William was thankful when she sat down again, setting the scotch on the middle of the table, and he reached out slowly to get it out of her reach. "Is it - because you were cursed, or...?"
"I can deal with being cursed," she replied, staring at her glass but not yet drinking. "I can endure many things, really. But I cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, ever forgive a being that would pervert the faces of the people I love, and take from me one of the few things I find pleasant about this world. What's the point if I can't look at my sisters without being repulsed? Can't look at you?"
Eyes widening in surprise, William was torn between two distinct emotions - sorrow, and something odd and warm. He crushed the latter, as it wasn't appropriate to the situation, and cleared his throat with a slight cough. "I'm still here," he assured her, trying to steady his own heart. "I'm here. And we'll beat this thing, okay? I promise you. We'll break this curse."
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Prompt: Your character steps outside their home/shows up to work/goes to some location they visit regularly and find that a bouquet of flowers has been left for them! Who is it from? How do they react?
Lavender. The perfect flower with the perfect smell.
At least, that's what I think. Other people find different flowers to favor over others, but I just... I don't see anything else working as well as lavender. I don't know why. I've always been that way.
Although, it is quite strange to see them... out here. I scratch at my head and glance up at the scene around me.
A clean street, lined by orange autumn trees. A sign points to the building I've just stepped out of: Matthew's, the only good bar in town. Nobody's here except for me and my old friend, Redd McKinley, the bartender. Nobody in their right mind would come to a bar at seven AM. That explains why we're here.
I turn my head slightly to the side, calling back so Redd could hear me, while keeping my eyes glued to the bouquet.
"Uh, hey Redd?"
"Yeah?"
"Are... you aware that there's been a bundle of my favorite kind of flower out here with my name on it?"
"Oh," she groans, slipping over the bar table and rushing to the door. "Sorry. These same bouquets show up, like, once a week."
My eyes widen. "That often?" Who are they from?"
"I don't know," she sighs as she bends over and pulls them up, "but it's always from the same person, I can tell." She raises her arm and hucks the bouquet down the sidewalk about twenty feet.
She lets out a sigh of relief, then whips back around and reenters the bar to continue washing. "I'd think nothing of it if I were you."
I sigh, then stare longingly down the street at the bundle, now flattened by the impact, laying there on the ground.
I know that there's something behind this story. It's not some random, creepy thing. It's not meaningless. It means... something. Something important.
I quickly run and scoop up the flowers, shoving them down my pocket. I know who is doing this. I know who is making them do it. And I sort of know why.
I stare into the sky, squinting at the sun.
I knew he would be coming, but I never thought it'd come by so soon.
It's starting.
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Prompt: Your character frequently visits this one place every day, for the exact amount of time every time they go. One day, they come home early, and they find out about something that the other characters have doing every time this character has been gone... what have they been doing? And what significance does that thing have to this character?
cream ;)
"...Dear, I hope you're happy, wherever you are."
It was spring, the flowers are on full bloom. Although the Festival of Blossoms, where the living releases flowers to the rivers where the dead was released, is now over, there was one man still does the process.
He was Damien Shrewsbury―a man who visits the riverside more than frequent. He stood and remained expressionless as he released daffodils and lilies he raised on his own, with some pendants he made using shells and flowers; he was hoping for his late daughter and wife to forgive him and live peacefully in the afterlife. There was no way this could have no emotion in it―these were messages from Damien's heart.
"That's all I could do for now. I'm sorry, I haven't done much while you all lived." He turned away from the river where a basket filled with bottled letters and gifts ran, ascending through the stairs with kaleidoscoping due to the flowers in bloom. "I can't come with you all... for now." The morning breeze blew his blonde locks, gazing at the river where he attempted to reach out to his late family once more before heading back home.
It was a long way home. Taking the cable cars to reach the higher levels of the mountain ranges, buses, and some walking, he reached home. Gladly enough, the city wasn't busy at dawn, he managed to go home early―Pickles is probably awake now. 'She should be sad looking for me.' he thought.
"Pickles, are you okay? I'm sorry for leaving you alone so early." He yelled to pick the girl's attention as he twisted the doorknob, "We'll be having mackerel for breakfast today, I'm kind of tight in budget, so please for―"
What a spectacle he just encountered! Albums and pictures of his past―they were everywhere. Did a robber manage to infiltrate his home?! 'That couldn't be,' he remained unfazed, 'Pickles was just too bored, I guess.'
Those thoughts faded nevertheless; his past was all unfolded with the loads of pictures of his wife and daughter on the floor, and even his old diaries where his memories were recorded―he followed the trail, only to meet the eldritch―Pickles, shapeshifting to an image similar to his daughter. A moment of awkward silence was made, drastically fazed by the spectacle he was expecting―Pickles was lamenting for Damien's past. It could be because she sympathizes with him, or felt jealous for having a family, but it was none of them―she failed to understand these images.
"Papa, why did you keep all of these? They'll hurt you, y'know..." She inquired Damien, seeming to be concerned. "I-I don't mean to hurt you, but they're gone... right?"
"Tsk, Pickles. You're naïve, I say." Damien let out a big sigh, cleaning the mess the girl made. "Sure, they are just frozen frames today but these things made me so happy back then. Now just thinking about it pains me―I could never reanimate these images, ever." He wiped the dust of every image he can find, intently gazing at them. "I'll never see them again is what pains me deeply, not because these pictures make me cringe. These are the visible forms of the love we shared back then," He fixed all the scattered pictures and compiled them, "it was dumb of me. If I haven't gone too far, I still have more of these pictures. I can see myself genuinely happy here, it hurts." putting them back to the drawers and albums they came from.
"Papa..." The little girl hugged her dead faced stepfather, "I still don't understand, but I bet they are watching you now along with the Outer Gods. If you were to get too sad about them, they'll feel bad and guilty! They won't be in peace!" and pouted.
"Ahaha... you're right." He rose, still seeming down. "Now let's secure these back to where these came from." He dusted the albums, then hid them where they came from. "Sure thing, hehe!" Pickles backed him up, with her cosmic abilities, making him reach the places he couldn't reach faster.
Oh, today is a big day of chores. It was memorable, at least.
Prompt: Your character eas involved in an accident where they almost lost their life. At the following day, they seem to have gotten omnipotent of some sort: no wound can hurt them and they could even read minds. To whom did they use this ability on first and what was their reaction using it on them?
Claim~
Your character comes home after a fight with their arch-enemy/nemesis with a major wound. Unbeknownst to them, their significant other/best friend that they definitely did not want to know about said wound was in the room with them when they started dressing the wound. Write what happens next.
"What in the actual hell Moza," the gem headed woman yelled at the large skull-headed creature, visibly worried and angry with it. It sighed softly, knowing that it had been caught.
"Hoseki," Moza's deep yet soft, whispy voice started before getting interrupted abruptly by the infuriated blacksmith.
"Don't start with me you clappy lug, what in hell happened," Hoseki snapped at Moza as she got the medical supplies stashed in the room that they were in.
Moza sighed softly, looking down at his almost severed arm before responding," I had an encounter with Ac-"
The blacksmith stopped Moza midsentence, glaring at the creature," First off, I've heard enough. Second off, don't you ever do that again." As she spoke, she started to splint Moza's arm back together, bracing the sticks tightly around the arm before wrapping gauze around it.
"He was coming for you, what was I supposed to do?"
"Not almost get killed damnit," Hoseki screamed at the large creature, tears in her eyes," I lost one friend to him, I'm not about to lose the one who protected me on the train tracks when I was 7!"
Moza was silent at this, looking down at her with a troubled gaze within it's hollowed eyes. It was then that his unaffected arm came up and gently pet Hoseki's hexagonal head," And I'm not about to let my hard work on you go to waste so quickly. I promise you, I won't let you feel that pain again."
Your character comes into contact with a large, unnatural animal that is simply walking through a forest with a small child following not too close behind it. Your character decides to follow the two to find out what they're doing. The animal leads the child over a hill and when your character gets over it, they see a large, lit up festival that seems to be filled with odd creatures and spirits. But when your character tries to look back to the animal and child, they see that the animal is defending the child from other hostile creatures, but seems to be failing.
What does your character do?
roger stiffened, pressing his back up against a tree. his hands tightened around his backpack, gripping so tight that they turned white. a huge, strange dark creature was prowling through the clearing ahead, a small ginger-haired girl running after it. roger watched as they moved off to the river, the monster utterly silent while the girl slowed down and walked along with it. feeling his curiosity take over, roger began moving. he stayed far behind, occasionally speeding up to get a better look on what was going on. as they passed over a hill, roger nearly tripped over as bright lights filled his eyes. even more strange shaped creatures seemed to be singing and dancing.
roger couldn't help but step closer to the festival. it was only until he had reached the entrance did he remember the monster and the girl. roger looked back hastilly, his eyes widening as he saw a few even larger beasts leaping onto the first monster. a scream pierced the air as the one of the beasts knocked her over. the monster swiped the beasts off, charging towards the beast that had knocked the girl over. terrifed, roger stared as the beasts fought with the monster who was only trying to protect the girl.
trembling, roger reached to take off his backpack and tightened his neck scarf. he took a deep breath and picked up a thick wooden stick. kneeling down, roger prepared to charge.
your character falls down a deep hole while rushing to an important business meeting. what does your character do?
"No, no, no no no no NOO!", Beiter yelled, desperately trying to claw his way back up the hole. But, that didn't work. And his PAKLEGS were currently on the fritz at the moment, and he felt too cautious to use them. The last time he tried, he almost lost his eye, and that wasn't something he was eager to lose.
Beiter checked his internal clock; 5:56. He was going to miss the meeting that could've gained him a promotion. Perfect. He sat down and mumbled a variety of Irken curse words. There had to be some way out of this wretched hole, he just needed to use his brain...
He scanned around the somewhat large ditch. A stick! A large, sturdy, stick! Beiter smiled and rushed over to it. If he timed this right, he could go to the other end of the hole, gain momentum, and use the stick as a sort of pole vault to launch himself out of the ditch!
"Dr. Beiter, you're a genius..", he mumbled to himself while walking to the far end of the hole. He held up the stick, took a deep breath, and ran before stabbing the stick into the ground and leaping as hard as his legs would let him.
Yes, yes, YES! *CRASH!*
Failure! All he managed to do was launch himself face first into the side of the ditch. He flopped to the ground and landed on his back. He groaned in pain, and rubbed the area where his nose should be. Great. He's more than late to the meeting by now, he can't get out, and he's going to die here. Wonderful.
"Ah! S-Sir, are you hurt?"
Beiter shifted his eyes to the edge of the ditch. It was one of his nurse assistants!
"No, Tinder, I'm not hurt! But, I need to get out! Help me!"
"Yessir, right away!" Tinder reached out her own PAKLEGS. "Grab on!"
Beiter grabbed hold, and Tinder pulled as hard as she could.
*Another crash!*
Tinder fell in.
"AAAGH, YOU IDIOT!!", Beiter yelled.
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(oh my gosh youre right! I forgot about it! lol)
What if your character were to get caught up in a really horrifying incident? A stickup? Or a monster encounter? Use your imagination.
Soot and rubble filled the air and permeated into the lungs of a city crushed beneath cement and metal. A once peaceful town lay flattened and devastated by a bomb that came without warning; something the sender would surely say was a mistake. That didn’t matter now though, intentional or not, an entire city full of life had been wiped clean from the map.
And there, running through the jagged dibres, was a barefoot young girl. Her breathing was ragged, airway full of dust that would take years to fully clean out and her feet were bleeding from the jagged stone that cut through the hardened soles of her feet. She couldn’t have been any older than 16, brown eyes watering and red as the air stung them and caused tears to streak her dusty cheeks. Or was she crying? It was impossible to tell.
Divya wove through pillars of harsh metal and stone; what used to be ceilings and walls of homes full of families now lay around her feet. She couldn’t let her eyes wander too much; if she kept running, the young girl could convince herself that destruction around her was only rock and infrastructure. She could convince herself that the lumps of flesh hidden mangled beneath didn’t exist at all, even as already coagulating blood seeped from the rocks and stuck to her.
Memory guided her. She grew up in this city and although it had been brought to its knees and destroyed she could remember the paths she always took. She’d come from the market when the bombs struck; the misshapen loaf of bread forgotten in the bag on her back would attest to that. Home was farther in. Her heart raced; each step she took the destruction seemed to get worse. Denial gripped her mind; if she kept going she’d find her home safe and sound. The bomb hadn’t touched there; it was too sacred to be destroyed. Everything would be okay…
And yet the destruction grew worse. The ground felt hotter beneath her, somehow, as if the impact of the bomb had permanently moved that small section of earth closer to Yama and his domain in the underworld. The hair stood up on her arms as the smell of burning now mingled with the soot. Here, the rubble was still actively burning. Divya detoured to the right; the path she would have taken was engulfed with flames that burned her skin even from this distance. Her body trembled as she stumbled through the hellscape; her feet sliced open with shard of rock and glass. She was almost home and she couldn’t be more terrified of what awaited her.
Divya hesitated for a moment at the structure before her. There was truly nothing but a heap blackened gravel before her where her home once stood. This couldn’t be right. The young woman knelt down, peering into the underbelly of drywall and wood. There was just enough room for her to fit, and even though every part of her begged her to turn around and forget everything she’d ever been she ventured in.
Light shone from the collapsed ceiling above her. Somewhere in the corner a shattered plate reflected light across the crumbled walls and a ragged doll she’d had since she was little lay where she’d left it that morning. This had been the living room, then. Her eyes struggled to see anything through the soot; her back ached from crouching and the pain from her feet began to slowly rise up the longer she stood still and just took everything in. Scraps of a crushed chair in one area, a table crushed in half by a huge chunk of rock on over by the corner, and then her eyes fell on something in the farthest reaches of her vision.
A sound rose from her throat that she’d never heard before; something frantic and wild and choked from the corrupted air. The child rushed forward and despite her better judgement pushed all of her weight against another chunk of wood and cement. Dust rained from the sky as the dibres dislodged and fell to the side with a loud crunch. The girl fell to her knees, cool liquid staining the fabric of her tattered pants and sending a shiver up her spine as the hot air coiled around her like a snake. A shaky hand reached out towards a heap on the floor covered in cloth and silky black long hair. Silky black just like hers. Time slowed, taking in each piece of information one inch at a time, each more horrifying than the last. There was the gently worn fabric of orange and brown hues that she’d grown to love growing up. Now it was stained by ugly, deep red that would never wash away. Soft brown flesh that had embraced her and fed her through sixteen years of life lay beneath, torn in some places and absolutely mangled in others. Her fingers landed in a spot untainted by damage, feeling the flesh cool to the touch. Long black hair lay sprawled out across what should have been the head and this was the luckiest of all; if the hair hadn’t laid in just such a way Divya would have been forced to see the crushed, absolutely destroyed head of her beautiful mother. She didn’t have to check for a pulse. It never crossed her mind. The heap beside her mother was surely her father; no other adult would have been in the house. It was only them and the children.
Hot tears poured down the girl’s cheeks as she threw her head back and let out a screaming sob. Any life for miles would have heard that despaired sob. It echoed around the fallen walls of the home, so loud that it caused a shower of shimmering, sun-kissed dust to fall in some places. Everything was gone. Everything. She cursed the Goddess for not letting her be with them when the bomb hit. Anything she could have been was taken. Nothing would ever wake her from this deep grief.
However, that was not how this story was meant to end. Just as she begged for death, a soft cooing sound cut through the fog in her mind. Divya fell silent immediately and although she didn’t lift her huddled body from her parents, she listened. Muffled silence echoed around her, ringing so painfully in her ears that she thought she’d already gone mad. But there it came again. The softest wheezing sound from the left, far off.
Divya leapt to her feet. As quickly as she could, she pushed her way through the maze of a broken home, ducking under collapsed walls and in between crevices until she came to a small cave amongst the chaos, nearly untouched by the destruction around her.
There, covered in a thin layer of black dust and kissed by the sun that poured in from a makeshift skylight above, was a bundle of the softest blankets her parents owned. And in the center of it -oh Goddess, she could barely let herself believe it- was four huddled little forms, still rich with life on their tanned skin as they squirmed uncomfortably from their naps. Four perfectly intact siblings just starting to whine from the loud sounds that had woken them. It felt like a mirage in a desert; a falsity that would dissipate the second she reached to touch them. But no; her cold fingertips touched soft warm flesh that responded to it. The darkness that almost consumed her moments before was banished and in its place came a sense of duty and protectiveness but most of all… Love. Divya carefully scooped up the two youngest; a set of twins who’s eyes were puffy and irritated from the smoke and ash and held them close to her chest. How could it be? Not twenty feet away her parents lay smashed and torn beyond recognition and yet, cocooned here like the goddess herself had shielded them from the blast, were her four beautiful siblings with not even a scratch.
She knew why she was sent to the market now. She knew what she had to do. It was up to her. Alone, Divya wouldn’t have saved herself. But now it wasn’t about her. Divya had to protect them. She had to save them and not even the God of Death could stop her.
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Your OC walks in on something they shouldn't have.
Button opens the door, smiling with a plate of food resting on his paw as if he were a waiter. Ready to sit down and eat, he looks up and freezes to see a person holding a gun up to another person on their knees.
He drops his plate and he runs out the door to call for help. The criminal attempts to shoot Button but since he is a stuffed animal, it goes right through him and doesnt hurt as much as thread that attaches him together being ripped.
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Your OC suddenly meets a talking and also somehow magical bee! What adventure do you think they would go through! {Be creative! :)) }
“Pardon…?”
Normally he was more articulate than this, but when faced with a woman who was claiming to be a bee appeared seemingly out of nowhere in your tenth story flat, he thinks he can be forgiven for being at a loss for words.
Poking out from a crop of golden hair appear to be two long antennae that occasionally twitched to the environment. A sophisticated piece of programming, to have it react to miniscule changes in the air, he wonders where she’s hiding the mechanism for it on her… generous figure. A generous figure he would probably appreciate more if he couldn’t stop looking at those antennae.
“Every morning I go to your spice garden to sample the oregano,” her round face tinges pink as she looks away for the next part, “It’s almost like we’re having breakfast together.”
Right. Please continue.
“And I wished so dearly to meet you, and thank you, for being so kind to me! Somehow… it seems like my wish got granted and I became like this somehow.”
She ends her ham-fisted story with a buzzing sound.
Well, that was enough honey for today. He throws her out the window along with the oregano and moves to my house, where there are no bees or spices to speak of. Someone please help, my chicken parmesan is so bland.
Sorry I forgot to claim! It's been a while so I hope it's okay...
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Prompt:
… you finish saying and all conversation in the room stops. At least thirty pairs of eyes stare at you. The DJ scratches his record and removes his headphones, and that’s when you know you’ve messed up.
"...And if you or your buddies ever come around here again, I won't hesitate to burn right through that cocky expression of yours."
Aleigha notices that something has changed. Everyone in the room has stopped talking, and even the music has come to a halt. She has Kath pinned to the wall, her staff held horizontally against her throat, and she only now notices that the gemstone embedded in her staff is glowing menacingly.
Kath's expression had fallen into an unamused scowl. "Might wanna put that down, princess, unless you wanna go making a scene on this planet, too."
Aleigha's brows furrow. Too? "What the hell's that supposed to-"
"Ma'am." A guard interrupts her with a hand to the shoulder. "Please accompany me out of the building."
Best to go with him. She shoots a final glare back at Kath before leaving the nightclub.
Your character only has an hour to finish a really big project that other people are relying on them for.
Edit: AWW Poor Jade and Iri
(was gonna do something w/a diff character but this one came way more naturally)
Iri walked up to Jade in the library. "Hey, did you finish the slideshow last night?"
Jade froze for a second and Iri took a closer look at her computer... She's working on the slideshow and there's 5 tabs open in her browser.
"...Um... I slept in this morning?" Jade said. Iri face palmed "This is why I told you to finish it early!" she scolded.
"I'm almost done though just need to somehow smash the info i found there into here... somehow..," Jade slammed her face into the keyboard. "I just need... a coffee right now."
Jade looked back up. Great! Now the slide was covered in b's! She deleted the text box and started typing in it again. Now what was she writing again? She went to click back on the browser only to find the computer froze up and shut down.
"Aw sh*t," Jade said trying to power it back on. No power! She checked her bag and the charger was nowhere to be seen. It's at her house, and that's 20 minutes away from campus.
"Oh nononononono!!!!" She slammed the laptop shut and started looking around for the school computers. She started logging in only to get raised brows from the students next to her.
"Hey hate to break it to you dude," one of them said. "But we haven't been able to log in at all today."
"WHAT?" Jade leaned over. their login screens were stuck on loading! She glanced back at Iri. "We gotta run."
"I'll grab the bags!" and so the two bolted out of the library
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one hour later
Jade and Iri walked into the room panting.
"Ladies, are you alright?" the Professor asked. They nodded and took their seats, resting their heads on the table and knocking out. Too bad all the rush to finish the presentation wasn't even worth it in the end; they slept through the class!
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Your character goes camping for the very first time