ravensson: (Default)
[personal profile] ravensson
1. Quotes:

A. "I was kind of a dark kid. I loved Halloween, and I loved vampires and the black and white old monster movies." - Joe Manganiello
B. "My dad loved to 'arrange things' to take us kids to that scared the crap out of us on Halloween. He'd take us to the old 'Hermit's House' at the edge of town. He'd park the car 100 yards down the street and say, 'Go back there and get something off the front porch!'" -Bill Moseley
C. "But I love Halloween, and I love that feeling: the cold air, the spooky dangers lurking around the corner." - Evan Peters
D. "I saw old Autumn in the misty morn stand shadowless like silence, listening to silence." - Thomas Hood
E."Two wrongs don't make a right, but they make a good excuse." - Thomas Szasz
F. "I love everything that's old, - old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine." - Oliver Goldsmith

2. Picture Prompts: Picture 1, Picture 2, Picture 3, Picture 4, or Picture 5

3. Word Prompts: Cauldron, Jack-O-Lantern, Monsters, Midnight, Eerie, Innocence, Mystery, Spiral, Discovery, Enchantment, Metamorphosis, or Haunting.

4. Role-Play Prompt:  It's midnight, the moon is full, and you can see something out of the corner of your eyes, following you. Find a friend or an enemy and show us what happens. (Role-play can be carried out in the post on the community or in the character's journal. If role-play is to be carried out in a character journal, please provide us with a link!)

5. Mun Prompt: “If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

How does your character treat those they think are inferior to them? The pizza guy? The mailman? The stablehand? When no one is watching and everyone who matters to your character isn't paying attention, how do they treat people who may never matter to them?

ravensson: (Default)
[personal profile] ravensson
After a long, long hiatus due to personal issues I am once again online on a semi-regular basis. I am thinking about trying to breathe some life back into this community. If anyone is still around and still interested, I'll be posting some new prompts Saturday, and every Saturday thereafter.
toretto_two: (Default)
[personal profile] toretto_two
It began the instant Brian got pushy, wanting to know what Dom had said. It escalated through him saying he was a cop. It drug me into it, when he made me give up Dom's number. It hit the edge of the cliff, watching him hold a gun on my brother, waiting for one to kill the other.

But I didn't fall off that cliff until his face was on the evening news. I kept falling, hearing and listening to the report of Johnny's death by cop-violence, and the hysteria over a rogue cop on the loose. Because it was in watching the matter of my brother be swept aside in the face of Brian being on the run that made me see there had only ever been one betrayal.

Brian had betrayed himself, and paid with all he thought he had wanted...as well as the family he had found with me and my brother.

Muse: Mia Toretto
Fandom: The Fast and the Furious
Word Count: 153

Full quote: Betrayal
tahnijnikitins: (Default)
[personal profile] tahnijnikitins
Just a note - some cursing behind the cut
***

I look out over the hills, holding my gun close.

My gun…my friend. It never leaves my side. Orders.

We’re all standing in a line, looking out over the landscape, watching the hills burn. We’re not sure how the fire started or why it has spread so far. When we arrived it covered several hills. In fifteen minutes time it has consumed the visible countryside.

Out here the night sky is usually clear and the stars bold. Tonight you can see nothing in the sky save for the light of the fire reflecting off of billowing black smoke. I don’t know what Hell looks like, but I imagine it might look something like this…at least in parts.

When we saw the fire we stopped moving. We could probably make it through, but command has decided not to risk it. So we stopped. We watched. We’re still watching twenty minutes later.

Those are fields burning. Homes. )

Muse: Unnamed Soldier
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 650
dancing_sarah: (Default)
[personal profile] dancing_sarah
I could hear sounds of nature, yet I knew, even if my windows were open, that I had to be mishearing. The city never let me hear birds or crickets without a cacophony of noise behind them.

Not birds, I realized on the second sounding. One bird in particular, one that I could not hear without memory of that long ago game preying on my mind. The sound of an owl, questioning the night, and yet... how?

I rose from the couch where I had been studying Titania's lines by the light of my reading lamp. My eyes darted around the small loft, drawn toward the shadows that deepened away from the lamp. Something seemed to be glinting there, and I wondered if perhaps a cast mate was playing a prank with a recording. Yet they would not have known about the owl, as I never spoke about it. Toby, mercifully, did not seem to remember it at all. He was normal, I knew in my bones, less tainted by the magic in his life than I had been.

I walked toward the shadows, intent on exploring the glint, discovering the cause of my interruption that night, and then the shadows enfolded me, opening to a place long since put behind me as a part of childhood.

I was back in the Labyrinth, and this time, I had no idea of the terms of the game.

Muse: Sarah Williams
Fandom: Labyrinth
Word Count: 233 words

Full quote: Enchantment
atreides_lion: (Default)
[personal profile] atreides_lion
My father began this. Conquer humanity, remove it from the rule of the Corrino line, pull it into a vise and squeeze it until all the humans in the Empire are choked for a breath of new air, dying with thirst for what is beyond the grip they are held in. I continue that, brutally where I must, with conniving intellect in other places, and with sweetened honey whispered from lips thought to be against me, not under my control. Any tool I can use, I do, for humanity must become desperate. Desperate for change, desperate for escape, desperate to advance once again. Thousands of years of no change being allowed, beyond the mutability of names of places, and the whispers of changes to history, raising up this person while shoving that one down.

No innovation may truly be allowed. No experimenting beyond what I decree acceptable. I must be a god, and people must believe this. Once I own their every thought, every chance of change, all in the grasp of the mere name of who I will become, then ... then the Golden Path will be at an end for me. Because then, once I am the god, the Tyrant... then I must die.

It will not happen immediately. The changes that must come in lieu of my stranglehold on humanity. No, it may take generations. But once I am gone, inevitably, mankind will explode from the stagnation of my making. The crucible of the bottleneck on development that I create will pour forth new, strange ideas, and mankind will be thriving with the need for changes, drastic and extreme to the mundane and banal.

It's almost a pity I will not get to see the results in person, but prescience tells me it will be a violent, fraught time to live in. An ancient ancestor tells me in Other Memory: May you live in interesting times.

That will be the way of life, once humanity has Change given back to them.

Muse: Leto Atreides II
Fandom: Dune
Word Count: 332 words

Full quote: "Change alone is eternal, perpetual, immortal."-- Arthur Schopenhauer
benden_brown: (Default)
[personal profile] benden_brown
Pre-WeyrSearch

Heavy smoke choked his lungs, pushing him to wish for flight to escape. The fields burned, raging in flame, hissing insults at the dragonman who had failed. Their lurid lights danced and mocked, reminding him oh his scared duty, and just how the Weyr had failed all of Pern. The flames danced ever closer, hypnotic, holding him fast to suffer with the fields, choking on the smoke as the flames licked steadily toward the massive trees in the distance. Skybroom didn't burn easily, but the fire would not be denied. All Pern would burn, to destroy the Thread, and all of Pern's people would suffer to their own deaths...

`~`~`~`~`

F'NOR!

The brown rider gasped awake, and then coughed heartily in memory of the choking smoke, before he looked toward the large head that had poked in over his sleeping furs. He cleared his lungs, realized that the smell of woodsmoke was hanging on the breath of air entering the weyr, and then shifted up on his knees to put most of his weight against the large head and neck supporting it in a fierce hug.

"We won't fail. F'lar will find a way!" the brown rider, wingsecond to the son of his father, declared.

When it is time. Do not worry now. You need rest. The dragon took that weight gladly, before drawing back when F'nor finally let go. He did not protest when his rider grabbed the furs and drug them over to the dragon couch, obligingly shifting to make a place for his rider against him, protected by tail and neck.

"Thread's coming," F'nor muttered softly as he got comfortable close to his dragon, cursing his brain for forgetting that Benden Hold would be burning off the undergrowth of their few wooded acreages near the burned out volcano that housed the Weyr.

Yes, but it is not now.

"No..." F'nor stroked the soft hide of his dragon's neck before closing his eyes. "Soon, though..."

Muse: F'nor and Canth
Fandom: Dragonriders of Pern
Word Count: 327 words
ravensson: (Default)
[personal profile] ravensson
This is just a reminder to everyone. Be sure to join the out of character community, [community profile] writersooc , to catch the latest updates from the admins.
ravensson: (Default)
[personal profile] ravensson
1. Quotes:

A. "Change alone is eternal, perpetual, immortal." - Arthur Schopenhauer
B. "When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained." -Mark Twain
C. "I can only assume that your editorial writer tripped over the First Amendment and thought it was the office cat." - E. B. White
D. "To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug." - Helen Keller
E. "Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children." - George Bernard Shaw
F. "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." - William Congreve

2. Picture Prompts: Picture 1, Picture 2, Picture 3, Picture 4, or Picture 5

3. Word Prompts: Silence, Betrayal, Monsters, Midnight, Poison, Innocence, Sacrifice, Hunter, Oracle, Enchantment, Lust, or Haunting.

4. Role-Play Prompt: Have you ever wished you could be somewhere you weren't, or do something, forbidden to you? This is your chance, find a friend or enemy and test the waters while you have a chance. (Role-play can be carried out in the post on the community or in the character's journal. If role-play is to be carried out in a character journal, please provide us with a link!)

5. Mun Prompt: What, if anything, does your Muse do to drive you crazy? Is it their musical taste? Do they insist that you drink French roast coffee instead of espresso? Tell us some of the quirky things you have started doing yourself as a result of the relationship between you and the character you write.
starflower: (computer/research)
[personal profile] starflower
Muse: Ti'ana and Atrus
Fandom: Myst
Word Count: 329

The desert sky was filled with stars on the cloudless night. Though the sand still held some of the heat of day, the air was quickly becoming cool. Anna stood at the edge of the cleft, her eyes staring off into the endless distance.

"Anna, what do you see?"

It was the question she had heard over and over again throughout her life; to see the Whole, to observe the world around her. The more time passed, the less joy she saw when she looked across the barren desert which she called 'home'. The pain, the loss, the suffering, the guilt all laid upon her like chains, keeping her back from starting anew. It had taken her years to free herself from these bonds and only to have new ones form as her son, her own dear son, left her in spite and anger.

Atrus, her beloved grandson, would soon be fourteen. He grew up so quickly, they always did. Every day with him she worried, seeing that in his eyes was the same spirit of adventure that both his grandfather and she shared, and she knew that one day he would take his own path.

Anna was broken from her thoughts by the gentle touch of a hand on her arm. She did not turn, for she already knew who it was. "Atrus, what are you doing up so late?" she asked.

Atrus thought a moment and then said something that took her by suprise, "Grandmother, what do you see?"

She turned and stared at him a moment, unsure of what to say to this unexpected inquiry which she so often asked him. After what seemed like ages to Atrus but was, in truth, only minutes, a bit of a smile came across her lips and she said, "I see a young boy who needs his sleep." She met Atrus' eyes and treasured the moment, for his company and his love were nothing to be taken for granted.
songbird_cry: (Default)
[personal profile] songbird_cry
The police would not help her. Maybe they'd burned too many bridges, given how often they had created problems by working outside the law. The residents wouldn't help, either. The one man to stand up to them all had already paid dearly.

Oliver was in that warehouse, and there were enough gang members to ensure there would be no quiet entry and breakout. She was willing to go it alone, for love. After all, Oliver had come for her when her life depended on it. The price he had paid to do so was now on her hands, her conscience, a reminder that love knew no bounds.

His life depended on her willingness to go in there and possibly make a lethal decision on his behalf. There could be no other choice but to do it.

`~`~`~`~`

Oliver was dying. They were outnumbered and outgunned. She still had bullets in the last weapon she had taken, was counting them down. After seeing the shape he was in, after being in that shape before, there was never a doubt in Dinah's mind what would come next. If setting off the explosion with the pressurized gas canister was not enough to give them a way out, Dinah would follow through twice to deprive them of any further tormenting pleasure.

She kept counting bullets as they kept coming.

`~`~`~`~`

Muse: Black Canary II / Dinah Lance
Fandom: DC Comics (The writer makes no claim of rights)
Word Count: 225

"Courage! I have shown it for years; think you I shall lose it at the moment when my sufferings are to end?" - Marie Antoinette
russandol: (Default)
[personal profile] russandol

Our ships slipped into the harbour at Losgar under the endless dark sky. We had seen no light in months, since the destruction of the Trees of Valinor, save for what little was shed upon us by the stars. Only that, and the light from our torches and lamps, was reflected on the surface of the inky, cold water.

Six brothers, six torches, six ships )

Maedhros
The Silmarillion - Tolkien
1150 words

stars_in_your_soul: (Default)
[personal profile] stars_in_your_soul
Muse: Original Character
Fandom: Original Work
Word Count: 278

The wind blows the leaves on the ground. I look up from my spot on the grass and notice the grey clouds overhead. One by one, I start to feel raindrops hitting my face. I continue to lay there on the grass. As my glasses become useless due to the water on them, I soon take them off my face.

I close my eyes and I start to dream. Not anything like daydreaming, but actual dreaming of something, something out there. I start to dream of going Home and as I feel the wind pick me up off the ground I can hear my mother screaming from the backdoor; she didn’t even know I was outside.  She runs inside, and I know she is calling the police, the fire department, anyone and everyone who can help. There has not been a tornado here in months, and I knew that today it would pick me up and take me Home.

I am high up off the ground now.  I start to flail, but all the while my eyes are close, and I’m still dreaming.  I am no longer in my backyard and I can no longer control my body, but I can control my thoughts. Lighting is striking all around me, and once or twice it hits me. I can’t feel anymore, I can only think and dream.

As I am thrown from the tornado‘s center, I start to fly upwards. I know where I am going. I have been there before. My body is behind me now, somewhere on the ground below. I do not care. All I know is that I’m going Home. And that’s all that matters...
lion_cub: (Default)
[personal profile] lion_cub
"Mother, are you certain?" Richard asked softly, though had anyone been there, they would have sworn he was alone. The companion at his side had long since slipped into death's embrace, but had found nowhere to take refuge, tied too tightly to the world by her love of her children. He looked up at the imposing vista, knowing it for hallowed ground without even setting foot upon the hill.

{Around, Imp. I will guide you.} )
Richard Davis
Original Character
457 words

Full Prompt:
Glastonbury Tor
Creepy coincidence, September 11, 1275 is the day the first Christian church on the hill fell to an earthquake.
dancing_sarah: (Default)
[personal profile] dancing_sarah
I thought I was going to get to talk.

Not this time. I need to explain why you took up residence.

It's not...

Don't even finish that.

Because I ramble )

Sarah Williams
Labyrinth (Property of the Hensons, used only for fun, not profit)
~400 words

Full Prompt:
5. Mun Prompt: "With the possible exception of the equator, everything begins somewhere." - C. S. Lewis

Tell us how it all began. Where did that first spark of inspiration come from? Were you captivated by your character's performance on screen? Were you unable to put down your character's book? When did that muse's voice first speak up? Has your character's attitude and goals changed since you first started writing for them? What about their beliefs?

Affiliates

Sep. 5th, 2010 09:32 pm
ravensson: (Default)
[personal profile] ravensson
We have a few new affiliates!

[community profile] muse_prompts - A comm with prompt suggestions every 7th, 14th, 21st, and 28th
[community profile] musing_way - A claimed muse RP and prompt writing comm
[community profile] parthenon
[community profile] nowallareone - A Transformers based RP comm


Also, I'd like to take this opportunity to make sure people know it's perfectly fine to post prompt-related fiction to the community itself! Also, check out our OOC community [community profile] writersooc . That's where I'll put all the important announcements! It's also a good place to get to know everyone posting to the prompt comm!
wamphyrichild: (Purple/Cloak)
[personal profile] wamphyrichild
September in the desert. The sun was beginning to disappear behind the mountains, and across the hostile stretch of sun-baked sand and rock, life was beginning to stir. A rattlesnake slithered across sand and under brush in search of a meal. A lizard saw him, but too late. The snake had him before he could run. Wind blew. Clouds that had been hanging ominously over the Funeral Mountains drifted closer. Thunder rumbled across the valley and slowly, the smell of rain filled the air.

Death Valley earned its name. Countless graves lay within this hostile stretch of desert, many of them little more than sun-bleached bones covered with a loose layer of dust. One grave, though, was new. Well-tended. Sand had been carefully brushed away from the unmarked headstone each day. Nearby, a ring of stones and charred wood marked a campsite recently abandoned. The vigil had been called off and the living returned to areas more suitable for life. If they'd only waited a little longer...

The air was heavy with rain and electricity. Thunder rumbled, closer this time. Wind howled. Loose sand and firewood went flying. A bobcat leaped nimbly out of the way of a branch and retreated to higher ground. The rattlesnake took cover as the first drops of rain began to fall on the grave.

Crack! A bolt of lightning hit the headstone. Chunks of rock were blasted away. The rocks on the grave rattled, shifted, and rolled away as something clawed its way up from below. Another bolt of lightning hit the headstone, and when the last peal of thunder died and the rain began in earnest, a black cloaked figure leaned heavily on the cracked granite. He looked back into the empty grave and laughed, and then made his way stumblingly toward the distant city lights.

Muse: The Undertaker
Fandom: WWE
Word Count: 303

ravensson: (Default)
[personal profile] ravensson
1. Quotes:

A. "Courage! I have shown it for years; think you I shall lose it at the moment when my sufferings are to end?" - Marie Antoinette
B. "Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of voice, but out of chaos." - Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
C. "Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean." - Maya Angelou
D. "All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." - T. E. Lawrence
E. "There are only two people who can tell you the truth about yourself - an enemy who has lost his temper and a friend who loves you dearly." - Antisthenes
F. "I have had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it." - Groucho Marx

2. Picture Prompts: Picture 1, Picture 2, Picture 3, Picture 4, or Picture 5

3. Word Prompts: Alone, Dance, Treasure, Storm, Map, Touch, Secret, Ring, Chocolate, Sunset, Sea, or Summer

4. Role-Play Prompt: With Labor Day comes the last hurrah of summer. It's that final day to relax and spend time with loved ones before school and work begin in ernest, and before the days start getting shorter, the leaves start changing colors, and an autumn chill takes over the land. Grab a partner and show us how you celebrate the end of summer. (Role-play can be carried out in the post on the community or in the character's journal. If role-play is to be carried out in a character journal, please provide us with a link!)

5. Mun Prompt: "With the possible exception of the equator, everything begins somewhere." - C. S. Lewis

Tell us how it all began. Where did that first spark of inspiration come from? Were you captivated by your character's performance on screen? Were you unable to put down your character's book? When did that muse's voice first speak up? Has your character's attitude and goals changed since you first started writing for them? What about their beliefs?

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