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Next prompt is on Monday.

 

Rules:

1. Pick one of the prompts and write about it for no more than 20 minutes. You can write for longer if you want, but only words written during the 20 minutes count towards your total, so mark where you ran out of time.

2. You will be graded on wordcount and overall coherence. You will not be graded on quality, so write as fast as you can while still producing something that makes sense and would be salvageable with cleanup. It doesn't have to have an ending or form a complete story, but it should at least read like an excerpt from a longer work.

3. When you're done, post your wordcount. Posting your story is optional. We understand it will be terrible.

4. You may go back and work on previous days if you missed them.

5. You may write fanfiction if your heart desires.

 

Prompt #1: Pirates attack!

Prompt #2: A cyberpunk underworld place

 

@WouldntItBeNice @Steve24833 @JJJ-thebanisher @Seto @bbshark @Bucky @mizal @FrankIevatus @TheNewIAP @Romulus @TacocaT @Crescentstar @Mayana @Zulutrader

725

So, I beat Rayman 2 yesterday, one of my favorite games as a kid. There's this scene where you awaken this nature spirit/ God, who nonchalantly tells him he'll wipe out the bland, faceless evil villains and that's that. It's not shown or anything, just left up to your imagination. This is it.

The boarding party walked along the earth path, watching the trees. This area was abundant with Teensies, who use of magic had allowed them to evade countless groups of the searching, roving machines. CX41 was at the lead, the tattered clothes he wore draped from his steel frame. Energy pumped through his body, and he felt ecstatic with it.

The Robot Pirates had done this endless times. They had seen over a hundred worlds burn, their occupants enslaved and their resources taken. To some degree, CX41 wished he could stop this life, wished he could find a peaceful way. But that wasn't his path. He was a machine of war. He had no hands for creating, he only had a hook and laser cannon for war. This was his role. The pirates were the destroyers of worlds, the locusts of the universe, the killers of gods. The travel between each planet was harsh, as their eyes turned dull and dark as they desperately tried to conserve enough energy to survive until they reached the next world to crush. 

TT33, a large, lumbering robot with powerful plating at the cost of dampened AI, slowly walked forward, leading the way in case of attack. His two digger units, outfitted with drills to travel quickly and ambush enemies when they emerged from the earth itself was next, then him, then six regular pirates, and finally two walking shells, who walked alongside the group, whinying and neighing every so often. These groups were common for searching through the jungles and forests of the Glade.

Suddenly, CX41 saw a Teensy emerge from the woods in front of them, stopping at a stone tile with a spiral pattern on it. It calmly walked towards them, before stopping. CX41 barked an order to surrender, before the Teensy swirled his finger in the air, as the air began to shimmer and glow. CX41 watched in amazement as a swirling portal of bright energy above the tiles, and the Teensy eagerly jumped into the portal. 

This world disgusted CX41. He was a being of technology, of rationality, of logic. Here, there was nothing but magical, nonsensical madness. He...

A fat, short, pale being with tiny legs and a large top hat walked forward out of the trees. It's arms were insanely long, stretching out to unnatural length, terrifying and unnerving CX41 to a huge degree. Still, in a world with horrible skeletal ghosts, spiders, monsters and much more, this was far from the worst thing he had seen. It began to mutter something, as CX41 barked out another order with a mechanical, static-like noise.

Suddenly, the jungle struck. The earth underneath one of the pirates behind him collapsed inwards, and before CX41 could react, he was gone. Soon, the grass and weeds beneath their metal feet began to grow, wrapping around their feet and pinning several more pirates to the ground. One of the digger units quickly tried to flee to a more advantageous position to fight from, diving downward and drilling through the earth, but the earth closed around him, crushing him instantly. The other tried the same thing, knowing it was unlikely he'd survive but terrified none the less. His digging tunnel filled with lava, melting him to a puddle and incinerating even that. They all began to fire at the mad wizard man. Lava spewed from the ground, killing another, as a tree grow with the speed of a lighting bolt, impaling another robot. A plum popped off a tree, blocking TT33's line of sight, and the robot simply stood there in confusion. Thorny tentacles burst from the ground, flinging around and striking more of his men, running throw them and impaling them with thorns. The shells bolted, running off into the jungle, one having it's legs caught and exploding in a fireball.

CX41 was terrified. This wasn't some beast hunting them. Nature itself had turned from them. CX41 turned, running, abandoning his men like a coward and in a terrified act of mutiny fleeing the battle. He kept running as fast as he could. Overhead, through the canopy, he saw the Buccaneer, the world-conqueror, the bastion of safety, the beacon of strength, CX41's entire life, exploded in a massive fireball.

o.o er. My muse liked this one. Even while being distracted...

Did prompt #2

Word count

Pages	3
Words	745
Characters	3657
Characters excluding spaces	2996

I'll be doing prompt 1 tomorrow, reading all the new stories left me with no motivation. Just curius what's the point of the prompt 2, though. I'm guessing it's some sorte of picture. Basicly others would have to look at it and write what comes to mind when they see the picture?

Yes, basically c:

 

Ah, thanks for the answer. Wish I could do that, sounds fun. :)

It is fun ^-^

And no problem!

Yeah, it's basically whatever you make of it. I'd probably set a scene there.

I know I'm blind. But after asking this question about prompt 2, I got an idea and I needed to write it down. So I did, and finished in exactly 21 minutes! It has 533 words. I'm posting it here, sorry in advance. I know I'll regret it tomorrow, but I allways do stupid things on evenings.
I know it tecnicly doesn't fit as a prompt 2 story, but that was the inspiration I got from this picture.
Warning! This story is not ment to afend anyone, be it blind, VI or sighted. So please don't take this wrong, I'm a blind person myself. This was just a terrible attempt at me being funny, with terrible writing and a lot of mistakes.

"Are you ready?" asked my best friend, Peter.
"Of corse I am! I trained for this my whole life! I shall look at the picture and I shall see it!" I said, smiling. This was the day. Today, we make history.
"you didn't train your whole life. you most likely just procrastinated and trained for the last 20 minutes," he replied. What a pesimist! He doesn't understand! I allways trained, even when I was a baby!
"It's not like you would know. You can't know what hard training I had to go through. I trained all the time, even when asleep I dreamed of it!"
"Alright then, I'm waisting your time, perfectly trained warrier. Go. fight the picture. beat it!" he shouted.Those were the words I was waiting for. I stood up, opened the door and entered the room with the picture showing machine, sometimes also called a laptop.
I sat down, the old chair creaking under my wait. It was the chair that all picture fighters sat on. Everyone failed so far, but I won't! I'll show them all, mocking us blind people for not seeing the blue sky, the green grass, the cute puppies ... I'll show them now.
I turned on the laptop. It took more than 3 minutes, but then I heard the windows startup sound and NVDA, the screen reader, turned itself on. I quickly went to the desktop and selected Underworld.png, the chosen one.
Now it's just me, and this picture. I focused. I need to look at the picture. Look at it. See the colors, the light of the screen, the shape. I raised my arms in the air, my hands clenching into fists. Focus! I could feel the plastic of the screen against my nose and my eyes were so close to the picture, they will tuch it soon. But still nothing!
"It's simple. You just look at the picture, and then you see it," said my sighted classmate when I asked him how does he do it. So he must be right. I just must look at it. So I focused harder! I could hear the ringing in my ears. I was focusing so hard that I would have probably shat my pants by now. Thankfully I have thought of that and went to WC earlier. But the ringing in my ears was getting harder, my head was starting to hurt. My fists were clenched so strongly, I couldn't feel them anymore. Breath, I couldn't even draw a breath! Air! I must have air! I can't die, not without seeing the picture! But my head was heavy, so heavy it fell on the keyboard. I was out.

I woke up. I was in the hospital, or so the doctor told me. I had to stay there for quite some time, untill I would feel alright again. My friend visited me every day. He said that he was sorry that I didn't pass the test, that I didn't see the picture. I said I was said as well, but life goes on. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell anyone. I saw the picture. I saw it, and it was beautiful. oh, it was.

469 words: Prompt #2.

From about where I stand, the smallest sliver of sunshine pushes through the everlasting shadows around me. I stretch out my hand at let the sunlight play with my fingers. I can almost feel it warming my hands. I take a step closer and let the sunlight beam into my eyes. I cringe but force away a squint. I will not rob myself from this moment... Then, I close mine eyes and look away.

The others around me are speaking. I see some shift their feet. The echoes go on for seconds like a bolt falling down some steps. One of them is shivering, for he has no cote. His cheeks are red, but he's certainly not merry. No, he's as frightened as the others. I will not stoop myself down to their level. There's no point of being brave anymore, but some voice inside my head will not let me.

I shift my focus away from the others. I look at my feet. My left shoe is untied, so I kneel to the hard ground and tie it. Instead of standing again, I rub my hands across the floor. Each time my hand passes through the metal grating, the floor sings a cold note.

The others all stand to attention... not that it really matters. Are they hoping for a moment of mercy, or is it just what we've been programmed to do over the years? I do not wish to know. I stand as well.

Metal scrapes against metal and a loud hiss of air rattles this room as the elevator stops. Thirteen of them come out, and one is more important than the others. That one talks to us in a voice trained to sound powerful. She doesn't show it. I see her eyes moving to and fro the room, but it never comes to rest on any of us. No, this is just a rehearsed speech... one that she has given innumerable time before.

Most of us shuffle away from her like a small child from a wrathful parent. I stay still. I do not want to leave the light. It's feels nice to stand here. I glance behind me. The greasy, grimed faces stare back at me. They are pressing up against the raising as if distance is safer. They are caged animals soon to be... released.

A thunderous boom erupts. I cover my ringing ears as beautifully grotesque explosions of red erupt behind me. Some of them scream. A few leap from the railing to the depths below. Others freeze like clogged gears. In a matter seconds, they are all dead.

Confused, I turn to the others. I cock my head and wait for one more rifle to be raised.

Answering my silent question, the woman who spoke before says, "You may go."

Words: A sad, pitiful 230.

I pad into the factory, my my pulsar guns tight in my grip. The sounds of my footsteps echo off the maze of floors, pillars, and wires that hang from one corner to the next. I was assigned to the Gamma team, which was sightly disappointing, but when I received my first mission just to days ago, I couldn't stop smiling.

My team consists of Gamma, Pulsar, Eagle, Stellar, and me. Code name Nova. Mission? Destroy the hybrid machines that were destroying the city.. We've seen HbM scouts, and we tracked them here to the abandoned human spawn factory. My job is to scour the area of stragglers, escaping HbMs, and scouts and destroy them all.

I pass another corridor, and I enter a room with large capsules of some sort of aqueous material that had a pale green glow. After a cautious examination, I realize the humanoid shapes in there, floating in the liquid like some sort of futuristic science fiction movie, and I just reached the tipping point.

I scan the area, looking for signs of trouble, but find none. Everything looks oddly sterile like the rest of the factory. I slowly make my way to the other end of this particular laboratory when I hear a sound behind me. I didn't even get a chance to find out what it is before I fall to the ground.

Slowly but surely, gonna catch up to these. Did 721 on this one but I wanted to finish it. Also, I totally covered both prompts and I'll fight anyone who tries to argue otherwise.

 

 

So let's talk about hummingbirds.

I've always loved hummingbirds, they are so pretty and cool. They make for good wallpapers, and thanks to a hummingbird impressing Emily Dickinson I know what the word 'cochineal' means. I know a little bit of random hummingbird trivia, such as the fact their heart can beat over 1200 times a minute, except when they go into a dormant state while sleeping and drop it to only 50.

Weirdly eough, I've never gotten around to setting up a hummingbird feeder. They're just very attracted to yellow esperanza and...the giant purple-floweing mystery shrub with the yellow berries off one side of the patio, both of which are drought resistant and grow and grow and grow and bloom like crazy. Back when I lived in town, the neighbor had a feeder we had a good view of from the porch. I once witnessed his cat, a psychopathic black manx with a split personality, execute the most incredible fucking midair backflip and snatch a hummingbird mid-flight. Sad for the bird, but you know, major props for the cat just the same, that was an undeniably impressive maneuver.

Recently I had a close encounter with a hummingbird, which is mostly why I've got them on the brain. Pulling up into the driveway after work, I noticed both cats were lying in the garage, which was unusual for them. They seemed very attentive and alert, also unusual, because those two are notoriously lazy little fucks. I walked into the garage and behold, a teensy little ruby-throat was flying around.

Now I have no idea how long he'd been in there or how long he'd been at it,  but it quickly became obvious, this bird was helplessly trapped, and dumb as shit.

The garage door was wide open, you see. The entrance was large enough to...you know, drive a vehicle in, and then some. But this bird couldn't figure out he needed to swoop down about six inches lower to escape. He just endlessly skimmed along the ceiling and around in and around in circles.

It was oppressively hot in the garage, and I could see the bird's mouth was hanging open, giving it the appearance of panting. (I am not a bird biologist. I have no idea if birds get out of breath and pant the same way other animals do.) In the ceiling was a panel that had been removed and never replaced the last time someone was working on the AC. I had some real concerns he'd decide to explore higher, find his way into the attic and then REALLY be fucked. My first brilliant plan of action involved grabbing a broom and trying to sort of shoo him toward the enormous, obviously open door with all the sunlight and fresh air flooding in from it, and just hoping he'd get the idea.

Well, he went towards the exit. And then flew into the narrow gap between the raised door and the ceiling. I could hear him buzzing and scrabbling around up there and had a few moments of concern he wouldn't be able to extricate himself, before he zipped back into the main part of the garage again.

Well, what else was good for catching birds? Towels, right? When my birds would get loose from their cage and fly around like a frisky little assholes, I always used to throw a towel over them to catch them. Okay, so off to grab the most lightweight towel we had and take it back out to the broom in the garage, with the intention of doing some Minecraft shit and MacGuyvering up a net. Just put the stick and the cloth together and it'll make a net, right? I was sure this was a mod I had installed.

Thankfully, I was spared the embarrassment of failing at 'tying thing to another thing;, which I'm sure even my caveman ancestors could pull off, by suddenly noticing something I'd walked past before.

Years ago my grandmother had embarked on an ambitious and ultimately doomed quest to dig out and build up an ornamental fishpond from the hard, dry, clay-packed soil just off the patio. This was a hilariously bad idea for many reasons, but before she lost motivation and interest in the algae-choked snake and mosquito refuge and potential old person and small dog deathtrap she was creating, she did manage to get a few little fish in there for a trial run, and for managing them she needed...yes, a net!

It was a small net--not even long enough and barely deep enough to cram in a football, it you're the type of weirdo who goes around cramming footballs into nets for no explainable reasons--but what I was dealing with was a bird the size of my thumb. More importantly, the net was attached to a handle that made it almost the length of a broom.
I waited patiently until the bird flew back around to my side of the garage again, then scooped him up into the net. I had PERFECT timing and aim and netted him the very first time. As hummingbird netting is now very obviously my talent and calling, it's a great pity our society is too ignorant to have that available as a career or Olympic sport of some sort.     

The moment I nabbed him I ran straight outside with him, but as it turned out I didn't have to worry too much about him escaping--I only took a quick look I took of him once out in the driveway, but his claws looked to be snagged in the cords (or else he was holding on for dear life) and I think he may have been in a state of shock. They are such COOL birds close up, and this one just had a round red dot on his neck as opposed to the full ruby throat I've seen in so many pictures.
I regret just a tiny bit not  snapping a photo when I had such a golden opportunity, especially now that it's have been perfect to end this story with, but not too much. They're such fragile little birds and I was really concerned he'd suddenly either freak out and hurt himself trying to get loose from the net, or else just straight up have a heart attack.

So, I just put my hand on the bottom of the net and pushed him up a little, and then he was loose and flying away over the top of the house. At that angle with the sun in my eyes I lost track of him pretty quickly, but I hope he found himself a drink pretty quickly, and I like to assume he's one of the ones I've been seeing hanging around the summer's last flowers on that giant purple shrub/tree in the making ever since.

Free at last, little retard bird!

I tried to share this story with internet friends right after it happened, but they didn't care. So I didn't even bother mentioning the pirates from the cyberpunk dystopia that attacked 30 seconds later.