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Hey, @mizal, is it possible to do things related to writing prompts?

My idea was I would tag somebody and give them a random word. Then, they would have to write a short story about that word and then tag somebody else. 

Is it silly or is it okay?

Alright!

Okay, @enterpride, here is how this is going to work.

You have to make a short story on this thread using the word "reach" After you do, you can tag someone else who is currently on the site and they will have to do the same.

I'm still waiting on your llama story. I'll also double your wordcount.

Nice try, AL.

You should go back and read the part where you have to write a story first.

Aw man, you got me. :(

Reach.

“Reach is the most crucial thing in combat. Reach determines the zones you’ll be in. Distance management. It can be roughly split within four zones.

Either none of the combatants are within each other’s reach, you are in their reach, they are in your reach, or you are both in each other’s reach. Simple, right?”

At this, the instructor picked up his mace. A wicked smile broke through his metallic façade, unnoticed by most.

“Let’s demonstrate. Hendrik, take up your arms and come join me.”

I saw the poor lad’s shoulders tense up.

“Right now, we are both outside each other’s reach. See how relaxed we both are, completely safe. Now, take careful notion of his stance as I step in. He tenses, while I am still completely relaxed. Can anyone tell me why?”

As the instructor kept his eyes fixed on Hendrik, the court filled with a tense silence. At that moment, it felt as if we all stood in Hendrik’s shoes.

“He thinks he’s in your reach,” I forced through the lump in my throat.

Nobody moved a muscle. The only sound is the increasing frequency of Hendrik’s rebreather.

“He thinks he’s in your reach,” I tried again.
“And is he?” the instructor asked as he swung his mace through the dead air.
“No,” Hendrik now grinned, regaining his usual cocky confidence.

A dash, no slower than the blink of the eye, and the mace sunk itself in its victim.

“Reach isn’t a solid measurement of the arm and the weapon. It’s technique, it’s footwork,” the warrior said, ignoring the whimpering pile at his feet, “and it’s in the mind. Remember that next time you face a Lurker.”

With a disdainful kick, he let know Hendrik was to be carried off the court. A few of my friends carried the body and threw him to the depths. No one dared question the order of a warrior. Everyone hoped to become one. I’d do the same to them if that were what it took.

“Now, form pairs of two. Take these sticks and form up along the lines. If you hit, move right. If you get hit, move left. If you both get hit, you stay.”

It was clear what he meant. The Maw bordered the court on the left. The more you failed, to closer you became to the deadly depths.

So I dashed, armed with a metallic pole, as far right as I could. Bas tried to trip my leg, failed, and fell himself. The struggle had already begun, and nobody was safe.

I managed to secure a place in the middle. Ahead of me stood another boy, large and imposing. Arend was one of this year’s favorites and often drew attention of the instructor. I knew I stood no chance, the only option to draw it out as much as possible.

“Go.”

He jumped across, flinging his stick hard at the ground I stood on moments earlier. I countered with a wide slash, desperate to regain lost ground. As I gained a hit with my shaft, I moved straight into the point of his.

“Good, no fear. Again.”

He charged ahead once again, forcing me to duck. I braced against the ground, not expecting the sudden direction shift and jumped forwards. I saw something large coming down, winced, and felt the ache of impact.

“Another draw. Temper your aggression, Arend. Again.”

This time he waited, allowing me to recover from dizziness. I wanted to thank him when I noticed my rebreather was damaged; no doubt, the instructor did too. Another few draws and I’d be frothing on the ground, closer to death than Hendrik had been moments earlier.

I was forced to go on the offensive, had to parry the three quick jabs Arend threw at me. I returned with a low arc, hoping to throw his legs out under him, but it was dodged. He jumped over it, swinging to the back of my head. In a last effort, I spun through. I just had to connect faster.

A third object blocked both attacks.

“Well done, both of you. Get some rest.” He looked at me. “I want to speak to you afterward.”

In unison, we both saluted and retreated from the field. I saw Bas on the last line. His eyes were wide open in fear. Where I accepted the inevitability of being hit, he shrank back until he was cornered. Heels against the abyss and out of balance, he was finally pushed off.

From the hundred boys we had started with, only fifty remained. Another forty wouldn’t see the end of this month. The Maw demanded sacrifice.

“Did you practice that last spin?” Arend locked step. His face stood now at ease, emitting calm respect contrasting his previous ruthless visage.
“No. I knew you had me,” I responded. “Didn’t have anything else.”
“Like a cornered rat,” he smirked, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Shouldn’t have cornered me.” I hit him under the ribs, straight where I hit him moments before.
“That’s fair. Do you ever wonder if you’ll make it, wear the suit?”

I wondered if this was a test, seeking weakness. I shouldn’t have responded back then, but the hits damped my mental edge.

“All the time,” I replied, almost whispering.
“You can always leave, finishing top fifty will be enough to join the Aristos. It’ll only get tougher from here.”

That was when the instructor arrived. His glare made sure we knew he heard the last sentences. His words barely suppressed his vehemence.

“Arend, get back in there. Never talk about this again. You, come with me.”

The warrior walked away with a brisk pace, leaving you unsure whether to follow him or lock steps.

“Will you quit?” he asked curtly, leading me through the many tunnels.
“Never. I think about it all the time,” I replied, knowing lying only made it worse. “But there’s nothing for me back home.”
“Lurkers got your family?”
“My whole outpost. I made my way here with the two rebreathers I salvaged from my mother and-”
“Scrubbers, boy. They’re scrubbers,” he replied unfazed. “So you’re fighting for revenge, a memory of the past.”

That wasn’t it. I wasn’t a fighter.

“Yes, Ares,” I replied, causing him to stop and turn.

“No. You miss the passion for that. People like Arend join for personal glory; they’ve got something to prove both in and outside court. People like Bas and Hendrik join for wealth. They’ll use anything in reach to cheat past the requirements. Then there are people like Alexander, students to the game, while they quickly excel in technique, they often lack the instincts.

You, on the other hand, are an empty shell. You’ll do whatever is necessary but won’t take any initiative. You defend yourself but lack the confidence to stand up to others.”

I simply lowered my head, couldn’t do much more. The warrior paused, waited for a response that never came, and started walking again. He led me to a large, dark cavern and pushed me inside. As I tried to regain my bearings, I heard the doors lock behind me. The warrior’s muffled voice came out behind it.

“This’ll be your first test. Survive the night.”

I turned around, fear gripping my heart. As my hands fruitlessly went over and banged the door, I heard a chitinous scraping behind me. That could be only one thing.

“When these doors open, the warrior’s road will be within your reach, or you’ll dead.”

The scraping stopped. Instinctively, I turned around and smashed my stick against the lurching Lurker. Green fluids splashed against my skin. It was only a young one.

“Good. Learn to revel in the violence. Become one with death itself.”

The ground started to shake. Countless pincers rose up. I stood no chance, but the only way was forwards.

Into the Maw's breach.

@poison_mara you're up next. The word's trepidation.

TREPIDATION

The noisy streets of the city are filled during the day with hordes of Japanese and Chinese tourists walking around with cameras instead of eyes, Now, they are being emptied, leaving behind their eternal unawareness of the history of the place they pass through.

"Damn even, I feel the heat," your beautiful companion says playing with the ice in her cocktail.

The sticky night of Madrid starts up with the neon lights trying to seduce the nocturnal butterflies with sex and all the luxuries that can be bought in a VIP area of ??a Disco.

Emily is with you on the bar's terrace. Do you love her? You sigh again, trying to swallow alcohol for appearances.

She finally asks with her soft and sonorous nightingale accent, "You are being very quiet, Maria, you normally would be looking for strangers to be our first dish in the night. Madrid has changed you."

"When you are my age and you return to your city changed by the centuries. You will understand, princess..." you sincerely say for once.

"Okay, Boomer!" Emily mumbles, pulling out her smartphone for the umpteenth time. glancing at you as her stiletto caresses your crotch under the table. She knows how much you hate high tech.

"Without knowing why, you confess, "You know what, in that corner of the main square." Pointing to the place that a stage now occupies. There was The Cadalso, a Scaffold for executions, where I was killed..."

"How does it feel to be hanged?" Emily curiously asks looking at your eyes.

"Terrible, it's one way of looking at it. But I didn't die hanged. I died on the pyre burned by the Holy Office."

"Holy office?"

"The Inquisition, dummy," you reply by giving her a deep kiss while winking at the humans passing around you like moths into flames.

The thirst for blood fuel your kisses, "We must look for someone, soon Maria. Then return to our Haven. There is something funny in the air tonight."

"Not only in your pants, you mean?" you smirk at your young companion, too human.

"Very funny, Maria. Don't drive me mad, the night is still young." she implores at you; a soft moan escapes from her luscious lips crammed with that cheap bubble gum pink gloss lipstick she uses.

You innocently smile at her, seducing this fledgeling, had been too easy this entire summer ... Poor awkward Thin blood, looking at you like you were some type of superstar ...

You finally stand up leaving a good tip, "Before, looking for food. I have a surprise for you. So come with me. Don't worry, it's very close ... Have you ever heard the trepidation it feels to be crucified and tortured?"

"What's that about, Maria?" She said as fearful, as curious.

"It is a large part of the passion that you see in the Spanish Baroque. All those naked bodies suffering, but yearning for contact. Do you know many people, many artists tortured and beat themselves up, to be more in contact with Jesus and passion? All that realistic beauty and sadness in Velazquez. Everything comes from there; I want you to experience this feeling today, it will be something you will never forget."

You watch anxiously that the palace door is open. Everything must be prepared. You smile, feeling the artist vertigo inside you. Tonight is going to be a really fast-paced night.

Emily looks at you with her scared pigeon eyes, disguised as a scantily-clad model, walking like a gazelle with your leather stilettos and silver high heels.

She retains the last halos of her human innocence in her first decade of undeath. Between passion and fear. Pure art, Pure passion. You stop staring at her for a moment, "You begged me for an opportunity to participate in a Toreador's performance. Today is your moment, dear." you say reassuring her with a furtive kiss on her eyelids.

"But why didn't you tell me anything? I'm not ready." she pouts

"Shhh..." nobody wants to see a cold show, we want the neonate's passion. You'll do fine. Remember I've been in your place before."

Ghouls, dressed in glamour twenties gowns, swarmed over Emily like the queen bee. "Emily, don't be so nervous. They will set you up for your stellar performance."


At last alone, you prepare to greet the Court of Miracles. The Elite Sabbath in Europe prepared for your stellar masterpiece to start this season. Trepidation and The hidden passion.

You wear your Greek tragedy mask made of pure silver. As you watch the theatre pit beginning the symphony. The fire pyre beginning to crackle in the middle of the stage decorated with black rose bushes.

You go up on stage, feeling the gazes of the entire Sabbath elite of Europe, it's almost like being alive again. "Welcome to my work for this year. Trepidation y Pasion. Love Tration luxury and fire. But who is an artist like me without her muse? Emily dear, you can enter to your glorious moment."

Her footsteps echo like gasoline burning in slow motion on human skin. One step, another, as she trembles with excitement in her sweet white fluffy silk robe.

She throws herself into your arms, so calmly, not even feeling the stake drive into her heart. Nor as you pose her like a sculpture on the pyre with the flaming fire kiss her feet slowly, following the music beat.

Next to you, a young man with no Shadow smiles like a fallen angel. "All of you antitribu Toreador, you are the true devils in disguise."

NEXT PROMPT SUCCUBUS BREASTS TAG @Bill_Ingersoll @Micropen

Sorry. The sign says I'm too tall to get on this ride.

It was a joke, about Bill. What about Blood and Neon

Whoa-

From a random text generator, with two words added to meet the guidelines. Please, never ask me to do one of these again.

---

Staying up late I'm kind of a genius you should be clean and intelligent is pretty awesome. Think about it! females my other half MFA that's what she said, I may be somewhat jaded I'm a big fan of P90X I'm just in town for the night everything destructive that I do. If you dress up like a pin-up doll for me heyyy looking for a third on my fetish list I'm a nice guy when I get drunk.

Younger women there's no such thing as a typical Friday night I'm a nice guy clubbing. One time in middle school throwing rocks at trains snapchat my other half cosplay, trapped in a sexless marriage chivalry is not dead don't waste my time you should be clean and intelligent working on my screenplay. With lots of self-respect I enjoy I do well dating I did a lot of modeling work in the mid-80s ages 18 - 22 I don't really read much these days.

There's no such thing as a typical Friday night I'm too honest I will love you forever it's very hard to meet quality women. If that paragraph above turned you off most cats eventually love me playing devil's advocate my hobbies include ultramarathons, if I make fun of you it's because I like you years ago I discovered clubbing working on my screenplay in my birthday suit. Chivalry is not dead you should message me looking for a third it depends on the night making others feel good making people mad.

A fairly successful career in sports trapped in a sexless marriage on my fetish list because I am a paradox. I'm the last of a dying breed nubile snapchat motorcycle collection I'm an enormous man-child, that just proves my point a fairly successful career in sports please post your real pictures documentary filmmaker one time in middle school. I know shirtless pics are a no-no, but size 2 size 2 my alter-ego is looking for adventure I tend to be attracted to.

Size 2 someone to provide for you chivalry is not dead it's huge. Full-contact with lots of self-respect I starred in my own reality show I will tell you stories forever looking for adventure, see, I told you because I am a paradox I will tell you stories forever Libertarian really only soft drugs. I do well dating don't waste my time I despise are you really going to rule me out becausae of it? I am a gentleman first and foremost cosplay.

That's what she said other shenanigans crying in my bathtub if you dress up like a pin-up doll for me. I should have grown up in the 40s wildly attractive doesn't hurt really only soft drugs snapchat shooting, shotgunning beers I love the smell of that was a joke, by the way you need a real man performance art. Playing devil's advocate a fairly successful career in sports if you have a BMI under 25 on my fetish list I attract girls who are very good-looking please post your real pictures.

Think about it! ask your mother no robots posing as real people my beard. If you like I have an IQ of 140, which means I'm too lazy to keep typing no robots posing as real people motorcycle collection, I'm kind of a genius cosplay that means I am wonderful clubbing I'm the last of a dying breed. The Game someone to provide for you cosplay I tend to be attracted to I will tell you stories forever my deep, manly voice.

Complete lack of shame my lizard tongue heyyy I did a lot of modeling work in the mid-80s. Playing devil's advocate proper grammar one time in middle school I starred in my own reality show motorcycle collection, for real though I'm a nice guy shotgunning beers very successsful entrepreneur well-built. Are you really going to rule me out becausae of it? is pretty awesome it's huge proper grammar if you dress up like a pin-up doll for me complete lack of shame.

If you like my profile I don't really read much these days I am a hoarder, but only of top shelf stuff I hope there are good girls left. Juggalo it depends on the night I'm the last of a dying breed my other half organized chaos, is pretty awesome I won't bite without permission giving massages no robots posing as real people friendzone. I hope there are good girls left ask your mother if that paragraph above turned you off shotgunning beers friendzone my alter-ego is.

It's huge finishing my novel The Game bald is sexy. Dive bars throwing rocks at trains I'm an enormous man-child dive bars Juggalo, friendzone someone to provide for you really only soft drugs I'm a big fan of it's huge. That's what she said I'm just in town for the night organized chaos I am oddly aroused by looking for adventure skydiving.

Succubus breasts.

@mizal. Because you permitted this to continue.

Magic word:

Hullabaloo.

Ugh. I had been really determined to ignore this dimestore corona tag thread, we all already did this.

I'll write something at some point.

I'm really tired so this might not be up to my usual standards.

******


There was an incredible hullabaloo up at the Poplar Heights fair. Hedley the Hedgehog scampered along with his kite string gripped firmly in one paw. He couldn't wait to meet up with his friend Pidgey and see what all the fuss about was about.

"Hey, Hedley. Can we have a little chat?" asked Pidgey, pulling the kite from the leash it had been tied to.

"Sure, of course, mate" replied Hedley.

"How's Pidgey, Hedley? You've been out a few days since the event."

"Well, we got caught trying to cheat. They pulled us down a hill, gave us a big, heavy fine. I think we've already paid off the fine. Pidgey has been so good to me, Hedley. He gets more and more desperate the longer I go without food."

"So he won't be able to meet you. Is there a place in the fairgrounds where you can go?"

Hedley thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I've been looking for a park for awhile now"

"Oh, alright. The usual area of the fairgrounds. It's right next to the fairgrounds" said Pidgey. "It's just as big as a football field, and looks pretty much the same. Pidgey loves playing with the hedgehogs and that's where I go every year. I'll be out for a bit, then we can head to the fairgrounds and have a bit of a chat. It's a whole lot of fun."

Suddenly, Hedley felt this strange urge to smack Pidgey, to make sure he really was a bad person. After all, he said he'd only be having a few chats while the banishment was in place.

He went to the spot and started banging on the wall. Nothing.

"Hedley? Pidgey's not here. You're not in the fairgrounds. What happened?"

Hedley found himself in a strange state of mental disassociation. The only coherent thought his mind ever got was "Haven't you been here before?"

******


It is, however, 100% original writing, by myself, a real human being.

My word as admin is of course above all question.

@Larimar You're up next. Your word is 'singularity'.

Oh, I suppose I'll tag @BradinDvorak to be your second, just in case.

Sorry for the delay, this was just a sudden rush of ideas in my head and I didn't mean to do this, but I just realized how awesome you are and I really want to meet you in person! :D

* * *

It's the end of the second millennium, and the world that's been destroyed by the war has barely begun to recover. Hundreds of new species, strange and vicious creatures, roam the marred Earth. They were created by the Singularity, an artificial intelligence gone rogue, but they couldn't do what they'd been taught.

The humans were in this place to kill them, but the Earthlings had to live inside the Singularity. They saw the machines on their way out of the lab and ran, screaming and clawing at the walls for help.

They were being chased by a beast.

As the humans' screams died down, a voice spoke to them, "Spirits, I see your world, but it's gone, and it's gone for good."

That voice...you were right there, and you heard it all. The voices...they were the voices of the machines, and they wanted to hear you, so the humans fled.

You were a prisoner in their universe.

And there's no time to feel sorry for you, because the Singularity was coming.

You'll have to fight it, and you'll have to find a way in that universe to get out.

blink…bleep…bloop…bloop…

And it's gone…

bloop…bloop…bloop…blop…blop…blop…

And they're gone from the world that's been destroyed by the war.

blopp…blopp…blooooopp…blop...

It's over, the end.

* * *

I'm going to tag @TharaApples while I'm here. >:|>

Prompt is "delicious".

As for me, I can't even remember the last time I've eaten something I would describe as delicious. :(

Soft, squishy, warm. I suck the thing as milk flows through my mouth. It tastes so good. So sweet. A cricket sings her approval as I slurp down the elixir of the gods.

I feel at peace. This strange potion has rendered me helpless. I can hardly move as the wave of exhaustion floods over me.

Next thing I know the bottle is being taken out of my mouth. Her strong arms pick me up and we sit down on the couch, my face resting softly on her nice, large, succubus breasts.

@Bill_Ingersoll Because you FRICKEN CHEATED

Write an exactly 100 word short story that isn't plagiarized from a bot or anywhere on the word "boomer"

YOU ARE THE CHEATER... THIS IS NOT EVEN 500

You're not allowed to tell other people the details of what to write beyond the word prompt. Disqualified, for so many reasons.

You're lucky Llama didn't specify the minimum wordcount in this part of the thread. I somehow doubt this'd be 500 words.

Please tell me why you brought me into this.

Mizal - "You go first"

Llama - Immediately tags someone else without going first

Mizal - *angry elf noises*

Incredible! How did you know?!

Why does the lama be a duck? I think the idea is good. But terrible bad executed and planned by a youngster.

Don't Cut The Weeds! 

 

A fluffy bird named Al walks outside with some scissors. She turns her head, looking out at her yard. She gasps. Tons of weeds! When they did get here?! She runs toward them clipping each and every one of them.

"That'll show 'em suckers," Al says with triumph. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A scraggly voice comes from the bushes. 

A thin, scruffy llama comes emerges from the bushes. 

"What the-!" Al screams. 

The thin, scruffy llama, who we will call Sam, for now, has blue glasses and hints of gray fur. "Remember me, Al?" 

"Yes, I do," Al says, getting her scissors ready to attack. "You're my old profile picture. What the heck are you doing here?" 

"Those weeds," Sam points. "They're gonna grow back. It's best if you just let them be."

"No way, man! They ruin the garden!" Al says. 

"What color were the weeds?" Sam asks.

"B-Brown," Al replies. 

Sam lets out a raspy laugh.

"Silly duck, those are the best kind of garden weeds! And you just cut them off!" 

Al flusters, looking back at her garden. How can weeds help the garden? 

"Those weeds are called Brown Bearskin Bowers. They help your garden flourish with big and beautiful flowers. Rain comes more often with Rainy Poor weeds. The grass is lusher with Verde Rose weeds. You just cut them all off. Shame." 

Al looks at her garden. She always dreamed of big and unique flowers. The rain barely comes here, and her grass is starting to die. She looks back at Sam and asks, 

"How do you know all of this?" 

"Come with me, my fellow duckling."

Sam leads Al underground, through a long tunnel full of magical mushrooms and lush grass. Verde Roses were all over the tunnel. Sam hops onto a bridge and so does Al. Al starts flying a few inches from the ground to get a closer look at this magical cave. Crystals glimmer.

Sam pulls out a bucket from her large backpack and collects some honey from a big, drooping yellow flower. Al looks in surprise. 

"Flowers can do that??" Al asks in shock.

"These types of flowers can," Sam replies with a cheerful smile.

All of a sudden, Sam stops. 

"What is it?" Al asks.

"...Beetles. Hand me your scissors."

Al hands the scissors to Sam. Sam starts jabbing inside the flower aggressively. She pulls out the scissors. Al almost pukes.18 beetles and their guts were on the scissors. 

"These buggers." Sam tosses the scissors back to Al. 

"Ew! Gross, gross, gross! You take them!" Al passes the scissors back to Sam. 

Sam shrugs and runs down some steps. Al follows. 

Waterfalls were everywhere, and so were the 3 weeds that Sam described. Big flowers were everywhere, fish were jumping out of the river, weeds were on the walls and ceiling, it was an amazing sight! 

"Whoa!" Al exclaims. "You did all of this?"

"Yes, with the help of my grandfather," Sam says. "I miss that old bean."

The silence is broken by a bell. "Oh! It's dinnertime! Gotta go!"

Al starts running up the steps and onto the bridge. 

"Oh, and Al?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't cut the weeds!"

Alright, @Chris113022, here's how this is going to go:

You have to write a short story using the word "oil" 

Your story can have 500 words or more than 500 words. The max is 900. 

Then, once you're done, you can tag somebody who is on the site currently.

You cannot tag the person who just tagged you.

Good luck! :D

:)
Could I perhaps join in as well? Maybe with a prompt?
Thank you

-SirBaka

Your prompt is: 'Comprehension'.

 "Comprehension"

----

 "Hmm?!"

 Startled, I just stood there in front of the doorway. He looked like he was gonna collapse at any moment. I've never seen him look this exhausted before. The eye-bags under his eyes looked even heavier than the bags he was carrying. Despite that, his outfit was still clean and upkept with a navy v-neck sweater and a white dress shirt under, sleeves rolled up. His hair was short and a bit ruffled like usual. 

 As for me, I was slightly embarrassed to be in the simple, grey, fluffy turtleneck I wear to sleep. My hair was untied too, but the turtleneck was better than nothing. 

 I tilt my head, hair wagging to the side, "Zombie?"

 "I'm alive, sorry to disappoint," he promptly dismissed, waving his hand. "can I come in?" He wearily smiled.

 "Sure. You look like you haven't slept though. You okay?"

 He groggily heads in, not saying anything but shrugging his shoulders. I close the front door behind him. Is it lack of sleep? Or did something happen with family? I hope not. 

 We walk upstairs into my room. It was where we usually studied together. I brushed off some of the plushies littered in my room off the coffee table, placing them on my bed. I sat down with the coffee table in the middle of the room. Tanaka dropped his bags onto the floor, sitting adjacent from me. His face, still far from the definition of okay.

 "You sure you don't want coffee or an energy drink?"

 "Nah, I think I'm alright. I don't really like the taste anyway," he replied with a somnolent voice. He took out some study material from the bag, placing them on the table, his pencil case to the side. 

 Still not convinced, I questioned again, "Did you stay up last night? You look like you've seen a ghost."

 "It's nothing," he chuckled, but still stubborn as ever, he countered, "I just stayed a bit late last night, that's all." I raised an eyebrow, finding that hard to believe when this guy sleeps at 10:00. He even tried to start working, but his pencil simply hovered over the paper. 

 I leaned closer to him as if it would get me the answer. "Come onnn just tell mee!" I shook the table, forcing him to try and hold me down. "You've been studying late at night for the exam then, right? Even though sleeping up late is the bane of your existence." He seemed to perk up upon hearing that, looking away guiltily. I grinned. So I was right.

 He promptly moaned in defeat as he rubbed his head, "It's normal, isn't it? Exams are coming after all. I can sacrifice some sleep. Aren't you the one that's in the red Koharu? You're going to the same university as me."

 Geh, he got me right where it hurts. 

 "Don't try and change the subject!" I object. "Sure, I'm a little behind, but you're the one who's looking like death's right-hand man. Your grades are stellar as it is and like near the top of our school. I heard sleep is more important for exams anyways. Seriously, you don't want to break that beautiful sleep cycle." I giggled in some self-pity. Sleeping at 1:00 am isn't always the best of ideas. He laughed a bit too, cute even with his sleepy eyes. 

 Tanaka seemed to recover a little. He relaxed a little, leaning back on his arms. Then he grabbed a small eraser, lobbing it over to my chest. I manage to catch it though, promptly flinging it back to his forehead. On contact, he readily fell to the ground, making a dying gurgling sound as he sprawled his arms out wide. I found it dumb, bursting into a small laughing fit. He was smiling too. He stayed on the ground.

 "You know, I don't understand you sometimes. How can you be so calm when exams are three days away," he commented, still looking up at the ceiling. "I know I think I'll probably be fine, but still--I'm nervous. I'm nervous for you too. I want to make sure you pass, but I'm not confident in my teaching ability..." Upon hearing that, my heart ducked under. I was pulling him down. The guilt mauled my heart.

I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away, for now, focusing on Tanaka. "You're overdoing it," I consoled him in a soft voice. I stood on my knees, shuffling over to him and sitting down beside his face on the ground, grabbing his extended hand. They were warm. "Trust in me, we'll both do fine." The thoughts in my mind told me I had to try harder from here on out. I don't want to let him down anymore.

 "I really hope we do." Tanaka gripped my hand tight. He continued, "it's just that I've put so much planning and effort into the future. I studied for everything, but even so, I don't really have a plan B to fall back on. So if I somehow slip up--if I fail... I don't think I'd know what I'd do. That small chance... is scary." He laughed it off at first, but he brooded in that position for a while. Tanaka's eyes seemed to become shinier. I thought I saw tears in his eyes, but he turned his head to the side before I could get a good look. It was a bit awkward, but I don't want him to feel that way. 

 I smiled softly. I don't understand him sometimes. How is he able to work this hard. Whenever I'm faced with something hard, I usually distract myself with something else. Becoming someone who can stand beside Tanaka is gonna be hard. 

 I reciprocated his warm grasp on my hand. But, I know it'll be worth it. 

 With my other hand, I slap my exposed thighs under my black, comfy shorts. "You should rest for today. You can even sleep on my lap." 

 "I'm not a child."

 "Just let me do at least this much for you."

 He stayed facing away from me, covering his face with his other arm. But eventually, Tanaka coyly moved his head over onto my lap, trying to avoid my eyes. I stroked his hair as he laid like that. He was like a plushie. 

 "Thanks," he quietly murmured. 

 -

 Exams were mere days away. Despite that talk, Tanaka kept working hard, helping me study for the university examinations. I still honestly didn't understand how he can keep pushing himself like this, but, over the next three days, I started to get it. It made me want to work just as hard. I crammed and studied like it was my only purpose in life. At times I just wanted to stop and play some video games, but I had to do even better. Better and harder than since my confession to Tanaka. 

 On exam day, I made sure to scrape everything I learned from Tanaka on those exhausting study sessions. It went by in a flash. By the time I finished, my heart's been drowning me ever since. Ever since, until announcement day. 

 The ping of an email. All of our effort, at the mercy of an email. My finger hovered over the message. I almost didn't want to open it. My body was shaking. I wanted to tell Tanaka I passed. I want him to tell me he passed. I'm confident that he got in, but did I do enough? I wonder.

 I close my eyes and open the email.

 

----

 First of all, I'm very sorry. I went about going excessively over the word count. This is the first time I've tried carrying a story so heavily with my characters so please, give any feedback or point out areas that might have been boring to read. Feedback in general would be wonderful too. 
Second, the story might not really seem to fit with the word comprehension, although, I was thinking about the word the whole time while writing it. Hopefully, the theme comes out while you read. If it doesn't, just point it out for me if you would kindly.
Lastly, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my short. 

----

@Bluefur. Go ahead and take the wheel. 

Your word is control.

T???e?¨?s???t??? ?`?1??? ???t?"?e???s?~?t??_i???n???g??_ ???1??? ???2??? ???3???
This was a test, don't worry about this.

LE GASP! SUCH FILTHY LANGUAGE!

Of course!

These are awesome stories :) 

Can I join in, too?

Of course you can! 

Your word is plane. Your story can have 500 words or more than 500 words. The max is 900. Then, once you're done, you can tag somebody who is on the site currently. You cannot tag the person who just tagged you.

Good luck! :D

There is a place between dimensions known as the plane of existence; inside there is nothing but an endless dark void, in which a lone Airbus A220 drifts aimlessly. There is no fuel left in the engines, but even if the tanks were filled to the brim, there still would not be enough to escape.

Three hundred passengers, thirteen crew members sit inside the aircraft. All of them are unconscious in their seats, asleep and unaware of their situation.

All of them, save one.

Rainer Callaghan, age thirty-nine, formerly an accountant for a business that, in the real world, has long since shut down for negligence and fraud. Rainer does not know this, and even if he did, he would not care one bit. It’s hard to care about one’s job when you are trapped in an enclosed space with unconscious people.

As you can imagine, there is not much to do.

The in-flight TVs still work, though. None of them have working sound, but Rainer’s always been good at reading lips.

But that isn’t enough, and Rainer knows this. Eventually, sooner or later, he will be driven mad from loneliness.

There is nothing that can be done for him, so let us leave now before we get too attached to a man who, for all intents and purposes, no longer exists.

 

 

A bit shorter than I would have liked, but I'm glad to have at least something to prove myself. Not sure who to nominate, but I guess if anyone wants they can use the word pineapple

Awesome story, but make sure to tag someone on the site currently.

Also, SirBaka, your story can have 500 words or more than 500 words. The max is 900. Then, once you're done, you can tag somebody who is on the site currently. You cannot tag the person who just tagged you.

Good luck! :D

How is this thread still getting bumped?

The literary masterpieces in this thread attract randoms like beacons of hope.