This Is A Good Writing Prompt! Get Ready For A Story.

This is a good writing prompt! Get ready for a story.

~————~

I waited. I waited to see what I should do. What I could do.

I felt the power flowing through me, like a frigid winter breeze, sudden and unwelcome. I shuddered. My room seemed colder, and bigger. Or maybe I was just smaller?

Blue lightning arced from my fingers, but I paid it no heed.

I simply sat there, meditating, hovering in my room.

Thinking.

Waiting.

Until it hit me: I’m a god. I can do anything....

But should I? What if I’m not alone? What if another god gets pissed about what I did?

What if I actually am alone? What happens when I see the end of humanity, and my friends’ bones wither away to dust?

What if I spark the Apocalypse?

What if it ends up being my fault?

~————~

Enough “what-if’s.” I needed to get stuff done.

I pulled out my school-issued computer and logged on, despite the throbbing headache and feeling of existential dread. My teachers had denied extensions for far more asinine things than “whoops I woke up with celestial powers and now I can’t read.” One kid lost an eye and had to do “Hamlet” essays in the hospital. I’d have no excuse.

I tried reading the prompts over and over again, but the words kept blurring and shifting. The line marker blipped impatiently. The screen stayed blank, as did my mind. Nothing.

Ok, that’s it. I’m taking a nap.

~————~

“Oi, kid. Wake up.”

“Is she dead?”

“Nah, don think so. Just fuggin tired, thasall.”

Who was that? There were two voices. One sounded drunk.

“Oh, I think she’s up now! Hello? Eleanor? Are you ok?”

Who were those people?

“Sorry about the rude awakening, but it’s important. We recently did something, and we need to run a few tests...”

“Mainly how well ya recover from torture.”

“Dammit, Sikes, she wasn’t supposed to know that!”

Sikes shrugged. At least, that’s what I assumed his name was. But seriously, who were they, and what did they want at 2AM?

I tensed and rose to my feet. I was in a different room than when I had fallen asleep. Only a thin blanket had been issued to me. The lightning was pink today. A bulb was out on the overhead ceiling fan. Details, details. I could change them if I wanted to, but I liked it that way. Natural order and all that.

Sikes stepped back. I noticed a bulge at his hip- he was armed. Shit.

“Sikes, stay calm. She’s just a kid- she has no control.”

Well, that was some patronizing bullshit. I had total control. Just, not of my powers.

I smiled at the other man, Not-Sikes. He scowled back in dismay, but I could see the fear in his eyes. Or was that admiration? Jealousy? So many feelings, just at a glance.

I decided to play along. I could blast them away if I really wanted, or needed.

“What makes you think that? That I have no control?”

“Cuz we tased yer ass last night and you didn’t even zap us,” Sikes spoke up. “Just, went limp, like a dead fish or somethin’. Didn’t flinch when I carved the barbs out of ya, either.”

“Sikes, enough. Don’t play her game.” Damn. Not-Sikes was an ass. Maybe I could-

“No.”

“What?”

“You heard me- no. No blasting me, and stop narrating. My name is Quincy, not ‘Not-Sikes’. Next time, ask. This isn’t your story. You’re not in control anymore.”

I was getting pissed. “Like hell I am! You’re just some secret-agency nobody with some fancy toys! Toys that I can shift away into nothingness with a snap of my fingers. I don’t need your name, Quincy. I don’t need anything from you, or your plastered friend.”

Sikes took offense to that. “I ain’t drunk!”

Both Quincy and I knew the answer to that:

“Yes you are.”

Quincy smirked a bit at our coincidence, then returned to his dour mood. “Eleanor, please, just cooperate with us, and it’ll all be over soon.”

“Last time I heard that phrase, the person saying it got their ass kicked by a superhero. I’m not doing anything for you two. Not by free will or control.”

I hovered there, arms and legs dutifully crossed. Pink lightning charged across my limbs. Sikes’ hair stood up. The ceiling fan creaked as it continued its endless laps.

Quincy grabbed a small black box from his pocket. He smiled at me. Not a happy smile; more like a “I’m gonna personally disembowel you” smile.

“Good thing there are other alternatives....”

~————~

*end, for now*

for whatever reason, you suddenly gain godlike powers of control over the universe. what’s the first thing you do?

You thought I was dead?

I THINK NOT!

I’m back, after a short hiatus.

I created another blog, @sleep-deprivation-arts . I’ll put my Inktober scheduled stuff there.

This account has now become a backfill area.

+50 xp: BACKFILL

Book 5: Jaded Plans

The team was gearing up for another Raid. Usually, Raids went off without a hitch, but last time didn’t go so well. Echo was still slightly traumatized, and a nasty, lavender scar was forming on Nathaniel’s arm.

~——~

Falesa had been working with Natalia to help get rid of his acrophobia when Systemis walked into the virtual range. The mountain cliffs dissolved and left behind a large steel box filled with cameras and sensors. Falesa fell from the wall amid undignified screaming, but Natalia caught him with her smoke before he landed.

“Hey. Do you know where the breaching explosives are? I set them on the counter a while ago, and now they’re gone,” Systemis asked. “I swear, everything’s going missing lately. First the alcohol, then my break-in attachments, and now the explosives!”

“I know where the explosives are,” said Falesa, still catching his breath from the would-be-fatal fall. “Jade said she was going to set them up. I don’t know why, mainly because we aren’t going for another hour or so.”

~——~

Jade had a way of stealing stuff. She almost made it an art, if it weren’t for people finding out about the theft almost immediately after it happened.

Everything she stole had a purpose. Well, minus the alcohol. She just wanted that for herself.

If stealing was an art, then this was her newest masterpiece. All of it was part of a bigger plan. A plan that would rock the world of the enemy.

The breaching charged were set. Jade ran her finger along her knife. Still sharp. Now she just had to wait for the others to arrive.

Natalia and Nathaniel were first. They stepped out of the smoke and shadows, and immediately grabbed Jade by the arms.

Falesa came next. Bright blue angel wings sent gusts of wind through the alley, sending papers everywhere. He landed, and the wings folded against his cobalt armor.

Systemis has been running full tilt for an hour. The plan was for Nathaniel to escort her through the shadow dimensions, but he went straight for Jade after Falesa told them where the Raid was. Systemis had to set her legs to auto-run to keep up.

“Hey, guys,” Jade remarked. She shrugged out of Nathaniel’s and Natalia's grip. “Glad you could make it. Systemis, here’s your arm back. Sorry I took it, but I needed it to set something up.”

Jade handed Systemis the mangled robotic arm. It was missing a couple of fingers, and wires were sticking out of the wrist and elbow. The hydraulic tanks were cracked and leaking, and one was jammed with adhesive clay.

“Thanks,” replied Systemis sarcastically, her voice an annoyed monotone. She wrenched her arm out of Jade’s hands and glared at her. She held it up to the light that crept between the towering apartment buildings.

“What were you doing with it that did this? That’s solid steel that you all but destroyed in what, an hour?”

“It doesn’t matter. Trust me, this’ll work.” Jade winked slyly at Systemis, who rolled her glowing eyes dramatically.

“You said that last time,” interjected Falesa. The rest of the team added their thoughts:

“And the time before.”

“And the time before that. You have a habit of making really bad plans, y’know.”

Nathaniel smirked and playfully punched her shoulder through the shadows.

“Shut up, dickheads,” Jade snarled. “This time, it’s gonna work. That plan with the rotary was genius, by the way.”

“It would’ve been, if we had actually owned a grenade launcher at the time,” said Natalia.

“We made do, didn’t we? I mean, yeah, Nate did lose a toe, but it grew back!” Jade tried to stay optimistic, despite everyone being incredibly angry with her.

“I miss that toe,” Nathaniel noted forlornly.

Falesa cut off Nathaniel’s sad mumbling.

“Guys, focus! We’re already here, so why not just do the Raid ahead of time?”

“Fine. But when it’s all over, I get the credit for the success,” Jade snapped jokingly.

Falesa ruffled his wings and walked to the end of the alleyway. He rested his hand against the wall and closed his eyes. Blue lightning crackled along his arm.

“I can sense a small group on the other side of this wall. Jade, did you set the explosives anywhere near here?”

“Yeah, why? You don’t want to hurt them?” She scoffed. “We’ll never get anything done that way!”

“You know I’m opposed to senseless murder, Jade.” He laughed. “If I wasn’t, I would’ve taken every single one of you out as soon as I sensed your powers!”

“Real reassuring, Lindoe. Do you want to push the button, or should I take the ‘burden’ of it for you?”

Jade held up a small detonator. Falesa turned back to the wall. Off-white chunks of clay and wire were placed intermittently, and if activated correctly, could open a hole in the wall. But he noticed something different about the wall itself.

“I don’t think these things are going to be needed.”

“And why is that?”

Falesa punched the wall. His hand went straight through the thin canvas fabric. He tore it away, revealing a room full of armed guards.

“Just a hunch.”

They aimed their rifles at him, but he flared his wings wide. Blue lightning arced between the guards, sending them to the ground in convulsed spasms. Jade poked her head past Falesa’s wings and huffed in approval.

He turned to the rest of the group and smiled.

“Ready to get this over with? We have an Osprey to follow.”

~———~

An old story

(also @one-time-i-dreamt)

So when I was, uh I don’t know let’s just say I was six, one of my mom’s friends lived in a house that, for some reason, once made Tiny!Me have a very vivid and violent blackout daydream when I went upstairs to the play room.

What was the daydream?

Ok so imagine a baseball field, with cartooony people in the stands. Not that many details, just triangles and circles with smiley faces for spectators. The batter was an anthropomorphic alligator with a white and blue jersey (don’t know how I remember that). Every so often, a baseball would be pitched from offscreen.

Apparently, those baseballs were filled with deadly neurotoxin.

Every time the alligator hit a ball, it (the ball, not the alligator) would explode into a puff of randomly-colored gas, and someone in the audience would go x-eyed and die.

The first time this happened was when I was awake, but after that, it would leave off and pick up at the same points when I woke up and slept. The nightmare only stopped when everyone, including the alligator himself, died. It took a month to finish that dream, and I (thankfully) haven’t had it since.

Not that intense, but when you’re six and something like that starts happening while you’re fully conscious, it’s damn near traumatic.

......I had to.........

(No references, so might be inaccurate...)

Giant, intelligent hamster in a giant mech?  Meh. Giant, intelligent hamster in an Oogie Boogie costume and a jack-o-lantern?  HE’S JUST SO  C U T E

In the kind of world that’s being built in SotS (the story I’m writing with @ironthingcreation; can be found @sleep-deprivation-arts), a lot of traumatic shit’s gonna go down. People are going to get hurt left and right.

BUT

I promise the following:

I will not mortally wound/break the gays. //Maris, Salem, Peri, Celeste, you’re welcome//

Friends stay friends.

Assholes get what they deserve.

And the dragons... well, that’s... complicated (*cough* Firebrand *cough*).

I literally only have one rule in my writing and it is this:

No matter what I put my characters through, they make it. They get to make it to the end of the story and have everything work out and be ok.

Because that’s the story I need. So it’s the kind I write.