Writing Prompts!

[sceneTK421]

Well, there should be some feedback up here. Let me start it off. This is for amurderofcrows.

Being thrown into that universe really worked. I didn't find myself confused or floundering at all. You had enough things grounded in our world that made your made-up things interesting and it kept me reading. I like how you just let the context speak. No, 'let me stop and explain what Shreiktalking is', but an implied, 'you will know when it is time'. I felt in good hands. And a nod to 'They're Made Out of Meat' at the end? Nice.

[junestormcrow]

Finished this the day he posted it, but got distracted introducing myself and poking around when I came to put it up here, and forgot. It's here on my blog: http://houseofharnoeth.blogspot.com/2010/12/mr-sandersons-dialogue-challenge.html, text below. Everyone did well, though a few were a bit long in the tooth sentence-wise. BlueRuin-short, to the point, and actiony, I liked it a lot.

"The world is full of decay."

"We shouldn't add to it then."

"It's not our decision."

"Then who's is it?"

"You know."

"I don't know."

"No, you know. Don't make me say it."

"But I don't know!"

"It doesn't matter Charlie, we need to do our job."

"For a boss I don't even know?"

"Yes. Do as I say son."

"But not as you do, right? You do it. I'll walk home."

"You cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"You are not old enough to be on your own."

"Oh really? Then why did you lie to Mom?"

"I needed you on this mission."

"Don't you have a partner or something? I thought you were a cop."

"Not exactly."

"What are you than?"

"More like what are we, my son."

"I don't work with you. I'm thirteen. How could I sign up for this?"

"You did not. It is who we are."

"Couldn't Mom help you instead? She's great at killing things. You've seen the garden."

"Your mother will have no part of this."

"Than I won't either."

"You have no choice."

"Why? Because you say so?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"I cannot tell you. You must figure it out on your own."

"Is this some sort of test? I don't do well on those, you know."

"It is not a test. But everyone in our condition has to find their own reasons, their own why."

"It's so beautiful Father."

"I know."

"Can't I keep it?"

"No. Think of how much I am gone. Could we keep all of those? It would not be fair."

"Well, you always say the world's not fair."

"Take it son, your mother is expecting us for dinner."

"I don't know how."

"Touch it. You will see how."

"It's smiling at me."

"It does not belong here, son, do the job."

"I don't want a job!"

"You have as much choice in this as you did in your sex, boy, now do it. I cannot stand to hear it much longer."

"She's laying down, Dad, she knows what's coming."

"Always remember what it is son. Always."

"I don't know what she is! I just know she's beautiful!"

"You have to do it now son."

"Don't touch me! Murder her yourself!"

"Shake it off son. It will all be clear. Let her go."

"No!"

"You have to do this. You chose to care for it. I told you to close off your mind."

"I won't! You'll have to kill us both!"

"Please don't make me end it, my son. Find your power, end it yourself, please."

"You're choking me!"

"You must see reason. Take its life. They cannot be allowed to stay."

"But-she's-so-beautiful-her-mind-the answers-"

"Do what you have to do or I will have to."

"All-right-father-I-see."

"What do you see?"

"The poisoned-heart-it's-black-I'll-"

"And what do you see now son?

"The world is full of decay."

[Tocath]

One more for the grist mill:

Agent Wicks is dead, sir

“I think I found Agent Wicks, sir”

“Excellent.   What took him so long to check back in?”

“Well, he hasn’t checked in sir.  I think Wicks is dead.”

“Dead?  How do you know?”

“ I was scanning the Times this morning and found him.  Here, look on page 2.  Yesterday, this was an article about a society wedding in Brooklyn, but this morning when the timelines synched, it changed to an article about a boy who found a body beneath the swamp ice in Orange, New Jersey.”

“Swamp ice?”

“Yessir.”

“Did he have a bad teleport?”

“I don’t know sir.  The article says that a young boy was sledding on the frozen swamp and saw a human hand sticking up through the ice.  The police had to chop Wicks out with axes.   They think he was walking on the ice and just fell in.”

“My God.  Are we certain that it’s Wicks?”

“The article mentions his synchrometer sir.  It’s how they identified him. The article calls it a gold pocketwatch and talks about the inscription on the back with his name.”

“Dammit.  Get Trumble on the phone.  We’re going to need to send a retrieval unit.  Congress will shut us down in a heartbeat if they catch wind of another artifact contamination.  Where would his body and the watch be now?”

“The article says they took the body to Kunz’s Morgue.   I’m looking now for any mention of it in the database.  This might take a moment.”

“Wicks was married, wasn’t he?”

“Yessir.”

“That’s going to be ugly.”

“Yessir…   Here it is.  The address for the morgue from the county tax roll.  At the corner of Norfolk and Orange street.  The address should still be the same.  I’ll forward it on to Trumble. “

“Good.  Let’s talk mitigation.  Where was Wicks on his objectives?”

“You saw his last report, right?”

“Yes, but I haven’t had time to read it.  I’m managing a sticky situation with the Italian and Turk teams right now.”   

“Here’s the quick version, then.  Wicks was on hold with the project, waiting for the New York primary.  He had the false ballots prepared and was ready to make the swap in about a week and a half.  Those ballots should all be at the safe house in Albany.”

“ Have you thought at all about Wicks’ replacement?”

“I was thinking that Agent Martin could transfer out to the field and pick up where Wicks left off.”

“Wait,  Carlos Martin or Mike Martin?”

“Mike.”

“Listen, the decision is yours, but I have a concern about Mike. I don’t think he sees the connections.  You need to make him understand just how mission critical the New York office is.  If Taft wins New York, the Republican party will split too early, and if the party splits early, Roosevelt won’t stand a chance at the convention, and if Roosevelt isn’t nominated, he won’t win the White House, and America won’t enter the war until 1917.”

“Sir, I understand the complexities, you don’t have to make the point to me.  Trust me to make sure that Agent Martin understands as well.”

 “Ok.  It’s just that Mike has struggled with fieldwork, and he’s not subtle or detailed.  If we botch the ballot switch, we’ll have to scramble to make this happen.  All of the pieces have to align perfectly if we’re going to….”

“Yessir, I know.”

“Ok, I’ll just let you handle it then.  …   Oh, and Jack?  Send Mrs. Wicks some flowers.”

[amurderofcrows]

Well, there should be some feedback up here. Let me start it off. This is for amurderofcrows.

Being thrown into that universe really worked. I didn't find myself confused or floundering at all. You had enough things grounded in our world that made your made-up things interesting and it kept me reading. I like how you just let the context speak. No, 'let me stop and explain what Shreiktalking is', but an implied, 'you will know when it is time'. I felt in good hands. And a nod to 'They're Made Out of Meat' at the end? Nice.

I'm sort of embarrassed to admit that's the first piece of fiction I've cranked out in MONTHS and it wasn't even quite five pages long and it's terribly unedited/cleaned up. But I have to say I appreciate the kind words, and I sort of feed on them at the moment. 

I do note-- the 'They're Made Out Of Meat' nod was entirely unintentional and I didn't even think about it until you pointed it out. I've read the story before this particular exercise, but the world I'm building that you get a glance at in  The Super-- well, 'Meat's a very standard slang term there for a baseline human from anyone who isn't -- baseline, human, or otherwise.

Still, thank you. Praise--and criticism -- is like sunshine and water for a budding writer. So water a writer today.

[Guinevere]

Prompt: Write a five- to ten-page two-character dialogue with no tags or blocking. Try to evoke character, conflict, and plot using only dialogue. Include: a problem, two distinct individuals, a fantasy/sf element. Avoid: long monologues, exposition. Use context, not explanations.

I know this is late, and it doesn't really count anymore, but I promised myself I would finish and post it. Technically, there are three characters, but only two main ones.  It encompasses only the dialogue of the first chapter of a novel.

“Excuse me, ma'am.  There's a Lazarus Brown to see you.”

“Thank you, Mary.  Show him in.”

“I would very much like a cup of tea, miss.”

“Ma'am?”

“Yes.  Tea, please, Mary.  Please be seated, Mr. Brown. You must have been quite close to arrive so quickly.”

“Yes.  It is imperative we do so.  You understand.  We place our satellite offices centrally in each city for that very reason.”

“Yes, I see. I imagine it would be rather embarrassing to chase down a pregnant lady simply because you weren't close enough when the pouch turned red.”

“Surely not embarrassing for the government.  For the woman, perhaps tragic is a better word.  Few pregnancies last without the Capital's intervention, and the women who believe running is a good option would be wise to remember that.  What a depressing topic to begin our first meeting.   You have a lovely home, Mrs. Simmons. Let us talk about that. You seem to have quite a taste for the latest fashions.”

“Thank you. The man at the shop called that one a 'photogram.'  He explained the process to me.  He seemed rather impressed by its innovation.”

“And you?”

“I'm intrigued, of course.  I was drawn to the shapes; that's why I bought it.  But I can't help but wonder how much more is possible...though I'm no artist.”

“I understand your husband is in the Royal Space Fleet.  A captain, I think.”

“Yes, that's right.  How kind of you to inquire after him.  Currently, he's on a mission out in the West Sector. We both know who is out there this time of year.”

“Indeed.”

“Thank you, Mary.  Mr. Brown, how do you take your tea?”

“One sugar, light cream, please.  Thank you, miss.”

“That will be all, Mary.  Wait.  Please bring me a seltzer water to calm my stomach.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I wonder what will happen to her when I'm gone.  Do you care for them—the servants, I mean?”

“We find that most servants are rather content while their mistress is away. Their quality of life usually tends to...increase.”

“I'm not one of those, Mr. Brown. My taste in art may reflect the popular fashion, but I can assure you that the treatment of my servants does not.”

“I apologize if I've offended you, Mrs. Simmons. I meant to say that we assure they are well looked after in your absence.”

“And am I assured to be well looked after as well?”

“This hostility is uncalled for. I think you are forgetting that I am not the enemy. It will make both our lives extremely difficult if you continue to act otherwise.”

“Mr. Brown—”

“I think we are finished here, for now. You have one hour to collect your necessary belongings. Please remember to pack lightly, and only for the trip. Once we reach the Capital, we can easily procure anything else you require. Do you understand these instructions?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, then, I will wait for you here. Please have your maidservant bring more tea.”

“Mr. Brown, if I may speak boldly. I understand how important children born these days are to you and your superiors. I've seen that it is enough to terrify the women in every city on this planet. Do not mistake me: I will accompany you, because I have no choice, but please do not delude yourself into thinking that I give a damn about you and your policies. This child belongs to me and my husband—not to the Council of Royals, and most definitely, not to you.”

“Duly noted.  Now go.  You are wasting time we don't have.”

“Mary... No, I won't be needing the seltzer anymore. Put it down. There is no time. You will bring Mr. Brown more tea, and then you will promptly join me in my chambers to help me pack my things. I must go with him.”

“Ma'am, I know tisn't my place, but...”

“Yes, Mary.  It turned red just this morning. We'll be saying goodbye soon, you and I.”

“But Mr. Simmons!  He won't be home until—”

“That is my obstacle to overcome.  Mary, please, don't look so frightened.  All will be well.  But for now, haste is of the utmost importance. Go, quickly.”

[Kessler]

Well, I guess I can try my hand in critisim.

MirandaBlaineMann

Actually I just liked this dialog. It was pretty powerful, natural, established setting and conflict.

batik

I like how the opening sentence sets the dialog around ''Right or Left''. There is pretty good dynamic in the beginning as the two people shoot at each other these quick arguments. The meaning of ''left and right'' changes from the position of the handle to direction of flight, being right or not having any time left.
I think the dialog loses some of its dynamic and sharpness, compared to the opening sentences. I think it would benefit, If the author could keep the same tempo and emphasized the different ''lefts'' and ''rights'' characters use a bit more.    

Amurderofcrows

I like how initially the reader is mislead by a golem being called a ''red man'' and generally the story that would involve golems. The line that I disliked a little, was

"Anybody ever told you you got a — kinda flat way about you? Don't laugh much, ain't cracked a smile. You do smile, right? Red Men smile? I can't say I ever met one of you before."

It just doesn't feel right to me that such personal judgment can be made after a brief exchange and the golem didn't have much reasons to smile at that point. I can imagine a human handyman acting in the same reserved way. Perhaps it would be better to have a line establishing that golems generally are unemotional or move it to a later point in conversation as well as adding a joke that golem completely ignores.

[amurderofcrows]

Amurderofcrows

I like how initially the reader is mislead by a golem being called a ''red man'' and generally the story that would involve golems. The line that I disliked a little, was

"Anybody ever told you you got a — kinda flat way about you? Don't laugh much, ain't cracked a smile. You do smile, right? Red Men smile? I can't say I ever met one of you before."

It just doesn't feel right to me that such personal judgment can be made after a brief exchange and the golem didn't have much reasons to smile at that point. I can imagine a human handyman acting in the same reserved way. Perhaps it would be better to have a line establishing that golems generally are unemotional or move it to a later point in conversation as well as adding a joke that golem completely ignores.

I guess the 'state assisted living' / 'what passes for it' line didn't come off as clear enough humor-- because that was the joke he didn't smile at.

[sceneTK421]

Writing Prompt: Take an idiomatic expression and
make it literal (not as a pun.) For instance,
“the crack of dawn” as an actual crack in the
sky through which dawn’s light shines.


   So we tracked it. This Akt. It was an old one. All big and hairy, with a bulbous head and all his plumaj sacks, dry and hard. Hanging there like drooping rocks. Hanging off its everywhere. You would think following one when they're old and dried out would be easy, but I swear to you that they get wiley and quick when they stiffen. They have their armour now. They get mean. I guess I would get mean too if I were old and being hunted, but then again I wouldn't have been eating babies, especially one in a golden crib with the sceptre eye pinned to it.  Not that we were after revenge for the babies, we were after the Akt purging ground.

   Five had died so far because of the Akt. I count my dog Edd in the five. And I'm counting Joessie too. I'm not so sure that the Akt got Edd, I think he may have run off with the wolves. Edd was always a bit more wild than the other dogs, so there's that hope.  And Joessie died of eating hartbraek (which looks just like a blood apple, smells like one too, but will kill ya half way through that second bite). The other three, Nack, Grayse, and Bul, were killed by the Aktomauf. There was this spray of people juice when they were gotten. Everywhere. Then nothing was left except for Juff's shoes. With bits of his feet in there. And mysterious wads and chunks, both human and not, scattered about.  But that happened was when Nack was leading.

   Now the rest of us, the ones who had lived the whole eight days, were finishing breakfast and eyeing the horizon. It became something to fear this far north. It was so close to the Gods, that you could hear Dahn being punished by Zuusc. Every morning before the morning light you could hear it.  Then the light of morning would come, as a small apology for the horrors Zuusc brought upon the world. Jereny looked at the horizon, saw it dancing, and covered his ears. Saecey saw it right off too, covered hers and buried her head. And then everyone was covering their ears. Some may have made the mistake to listen when we first got this close, but none were that stupid now.

   And it hit.

   The cracks of each bone in Dahn's half mortal / half Godle body racked the sunvirgin sky. Wicked cracks. Splinters. White flecks fell against the sky. Flashes. Thin sticks of bone. Dust. The smell of calcium, lightning, and blood pulsed with each break. And then the smell of morning whipped through the camp. And it was over. Many gave a prayer that Dahn had had her voice removed so many years ago. Others a prayer to Zuusc for being merciful enough to stop the torture and let the day reign. These horrid sounds ever'morning now. What a fitting way to begin our daily stalking of a creature that would probably kill everyone in our party if we ever had the misfortune to catch it.

   I took my leave this morning, as I did every day this week, to walk away from everyone. Just after breakfast. After the break of the bones. I took out the two letters and hung them in the blumetree. One from her. One from him. I backed up far enough that my arm could show no preference and pulled the Lough Stone out of my pocket. I shut my eyes, threw it, and when I heard it hit, opened them again. The note on the right was glowing soft yellow then orange in a small circle, then faded. Same as every day. The note from him. The Lough Stone answered my question the same ever'morning. I should be protecting him. But I couldn't help it. I had to protect her. Even if everything was telling me otherwise. Besides, he could protect himself. He wasn't too bad with a knife. And he had a sword. And a hatchet... Damned, how could I protect them both?



This was made up of three idioms.
If you didn't catch them they were:

A hard act to follow.
The crack of dawn.
Hit the right note.

I had a fun time with this one. Thanks Dan! (I think he came up with this one)

[MannyBrainpan]

I figured although no one is giving feedback, I did read a few so I will. I read a few dialogue exercises from page 5.

AndreaGS yours is great! Although it became a little confusing here and there, (it was the boy/girl name changes that got me) the concept of the blood that turns into fire is great and could be a good starting point for some seriously fresh world building. And if you are going for a medieval yet understandable sorta feel for your dialogue, cut the contractions.

Dhalagirl, yours is also very good too. In my mind I imagine it as a sort of Tron (even without all of the commercial reminders) techno-ized world. The storyline of obtaining all of these clues that you seem to be setting up would be good for a YA novel, because of the simplicity of it (it seems kinda like a video game info briefing). Although, I have no idea how you will be executing it, so I might be judging to quickly. The only thing was that the dialogue by itself was confusing due to the fact that we didn't know who had which nickname, at first.

Randomaximus, yours was good, especially for being new to writing.  I can see where the whole "I'll give the money away" ego is going and could be interesting. Two things though, it seems that you tried to show that these two guys are average American guys who talk like average Americans. But in dialogue the "dude"s and "man"s are a bit repetitive. Also, I don't know if you intended to explain the whole ghost concept, but in the dialogue it isn't clear. Also, good idea to jump on the MMA craze.

Snuren, yours is also funny and creative. Just like any dialogue, you can get lost between who is speaking, but the silliness of some parts made me forget that it mattered who was speaking.

I hope any of you writers out there will benefit from this- in a creative or motivational sense. And it was good fun reading other un-published writer's works. I'm glad there is a place where we can all promote each other in writing skills. I will definitely be posting more writing prompts from future posts and podcasts.
-Manny (http://www.brainpan.webs.com and http://www.cafepress.com/brainpanstore)

[ioMu]

I've found it!  I've been wondering where all the prompt replies ended up.
Here's mine: (I combined it with this week's challenge)

Famous Jason

“You can’t do that.”

“What the?…I didn’t see you.”

“That doesn’t matter. You still can’t do that. Not out here.”

“Right. Like who’s gonna see in a dark alley?”

“I see. Very clearly. You couldn’t do that inside?”

“Why are you out here anyway?”

“I’m always out here. They could fine you for that. ”

“Hey. That’s famous pee right there"

“You famous? I don’t recognize you. ”

“You ever see a nobody make famous pee? ”

“I’m not into watching people pee so I couldn’t tell you what famous pee looks like.  So, who are you?  You come from the club? You’re a DJ…you must be.  You look like a DJ. ”

“I’m on a much higher plane than that. ”

"I got it. You're a painter.  Painters all think their pee is famous. This must be your latest work."

"Don't paint"

“Look towards the street light.  No, still don’t recognize you. Are you one of those dot com people?”

“No. I have a nice website, though.”

“I was serious, you know…it’s a crime in New York.”

“Make a citizen’s arrest.”

“Tell me who you are.”

“Like I said, I’m on a different plane.  You wouldn’t recognize me.”

“Athlete? Scratch that. Definitely not an athlete. Chess! You the next Bobby Fisher? I play a little chess. I’m not bad either”

“I’m a writer. A famous writer”

“Nice goin’. What did you write? No...let me guess.  DaVinci Code? ”

“Nothing like that. You heard of DragonMount? ”

“No. Doesn’t sound like something I’d be interested in.”

“Like I said…”

“Yeah, I know, It’s on a higher plane.  You didn’t tell me your name. ”

“Jason… Jason Denzel. ”

“Jason, you’re under arrest.”

“Ha ha. Is this your citizen’s arrest? ”

“No. This is my detail and you just pee’d  all over it. ”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“I don’t kid. You know, you’ve just made my night. I’ve always wanted to arrest someone famous. ”

[junestormcrow]

Hilarious ioMu. I could tell there were two different characters and the setting was implied well. Thanks for giving me the giggles.

[Rand8203]

Brandon Sanderson's Dialogue Exercise

This is my first time attempting a writing prompt or exercise, any feedback or comments is welcomed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What are you doing?

Making a way, we need to deliver this package.

No, No, No.  I don’t think we should be doing this.  You know as well as I do that we aren’t supposed to change things where people may notice.

Well, what do you suggest!  Are we and all our friends and family at the Forgotten Sons Orphanage supposed to go hungry so some random person won’t see this?  Now don’t worry that much this will only be temporary.  I will make it so it will last long enough to allow us to get in and get out.  Besides no one travels these back alley streets at this time in the morning.

I still don’t know…It just doesn’t seem right.  Oh, wait maybe we can come back later.

No, that won’t work we need to have the packaged delivered before the mid morning bells ring.  Alright let’s do this.

Eek, take your hand off the wall!  I think I heard someone at the other end of the alley.

Too late, it has already been done and would you look at that a perfect set of ledges if I do say so myself.  Well time is wasting, I say we got about an hour to get up to that 3rd floor window, deliver the package, and get back out before the ledges evanescence.  Let’s go.

Ah man, what should I do?  I don’t think we should do this…ahhhhh wait for me.  How did you get so high already?

Well at the first ledge I ran and jumped and caught the ledge of the second ledge.  Then while hanging there instead of climbing up I put my foot on the bottom part of the ledge and jumped backward.  While I was in the air I spun and caught the next ledge.  Pretty awesome I know.  Hurry up we need to get in and out.

***

Here take my hand.  Good, I got you now climb up.  Alright we are in…Do you know where the Grand Kai’s rooms are?

What!  You mean you came in here without a plan?  We are going to be in such trouble.

Relax. We got some time, let’s search this floor.  You start on that side.

Nothing in these last three rooms, but storage.  How will we know the Grand Kai’s room when we get there?

Good question…I think the room will be GRAND…he he he.

This isn’t funny we shouldn’t have done this.  How did I let you talk me into doing this?  We are...

…going to be in such trouble.  Yes, I know you have said that once or twice already.   Did you see that at the end of the hallway?  I think it was the Grand Kai’s headdress.  I bet if we follow it we will find the Grand Kai’s room.  Let’s follow and be quite.

***

Alright, that is the door.  Get ready we are going to sneak in the next time someone comes out.

Are you sure that is a good idea?

Do you have a better one?  As soon as we place the package in the room the room or the Grand Kai’s hands the binding will release and our contract will be fulfilled.  What happens when we fulfill a contract?

We get paid, and then we eat.

Right, but all of our friends and family at the Forgotten Sons Orphanage will be able to eat to.  Here comes someone from the room.  Go now, quite as a mouse.

Whew, we didn’t get caught.  Quickly find the place and put the package there.  Wait, is it that desk over there?

Yes, I can see the glow.  Give me a moment to get over there without disturbing the piles of filth in this room.  I mean you would think the Grand Kai could have someone clean up to keep up a Grand appearance.  We would have never had found this place if it was not for the headdress in the hallway.  There, now to complete the transaction; ‘The package has been delivered, the binding has been fulfilled, the payment is due, the binding released.’  It feels good to be free of the binding again.  Although I could do without the blinding light of the breaking, however the sound is new.

The sound is not part of the breaking.  It is an alarm!

Ok…it will be ok…let’s RUN, back to the window!

Eek!

Quickly, fall to your knees and slide under the barrier.  Whew we made it.  Get up we need to keep moving before we get trapped in this hallway.

I’m moving as fast as I can.  What is that at the end of the hallway?

Huh?  That is our exit…Mother of Pear!  They are closing a barrier at the window too!  Move it or we are really going to be in trouble. 

We aren’t going to make it.  We shouldn’t have come into the Grand Kai’s Fortress without permission. 

Keep running we can make it if we jump.  Take my hand, keep running, and JUMP!

Ahhhhhhhh, but we are three stories up!

***

Cough.  Cough.  Are we in sand?

Yeah, it was the first thing I thought of to soften our landing.  What do you say we get back to the orphanage before they notice that we got away. 

Yeah let’s go.

[ioMu]

Thank you June. Enjoyed yours as well. Especially the line about gardening.

[Rand8203]

You are walking down a back alley, and you meet Jason from DragonMount. He’s getting all uppity about how good his submission was. What do you do to him?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“There you are, Jason!”  I throw a copy of his writing excuses submission at his feet in the muddy puddle of the alley.  “I suppose your proud of yourself.”  I watch as a self satisfied smile etched creep across his face.  His attitude of late has been so smug and cocky it has been utterly infuriating.  “Wipe that look off your face.”

“Why should I?” Jason asked. “Who wouldn’t be proud after receiving accolades from our Masters at the Writing Excuses guild.  Are you trying to suggest that I do not deserve the praise?”  He bent down and picked up his entry and took a moment to shake off some of the muddy water.  “You have read the submission, right?  I think the submission speaks for itself.  No need to be jealous over my success and wait…Did the masters shun your submission?  Ah that would make sense, you are just lashing out at me due to your own failure.  Well, I can’t say I blame you.  However, I’m not heartless for a small fee I could review some of your writings and give you some pointers.  How does that sound?”

“You uppity bastard!  This is not about me it is about you and that attitude of yours.  It is rubbing everyone in the guild raw.  Have you not wondered why anyone hardly talks to you anymore, and it’s not because they are jealous of your talents.  They cannot take your ‘I am so great’ so I look down upon you manner.”  In my frustration I look way from Jason and glanced down the alley and saw something move in the shadows behind Jason.

“You know you may be right,” my eyes opened in surprise as Jason spoke.  “I think the rest of the guild deserves the same opportunity that I offered you tonight.  I will announce it tomorrow during self study, I thank you for helping me to realize that I should share my talents with the entire guild.”  As these words hung in the air, three shadows lunged at Jason and restrained him.

“Jason,” call a voice from a hooded individual slipping out of the shadows.  “We at the guild are done with you and your conceited attitude.”  I could not place the voice, but it sounded familiar.  “Not only have you alienated all of your student brethren, but you have angered the most of the guild members, including one of the masters.  The only reason we had not acted until now was due to the favor you had with the masters.  However, that no longer matters as the guild has voted to punish you and it was approved by a master.”

“Wait a minute.  Hey don’t put that on me.  I was just talking with neophyte here and he has helped me to see the error of my ways.  Tell them!”  Jason pleaded.

The hooded leader asked, “Is that correct, neophyte?”

I took a long look at the hooded men holding Jason in place and their choose speaker.  They had a manner that suggested that this was just business, bearing not malice towards Jason.  I looked back to Jason and took a long time peering into his eyes.  As I looked Jason found something in my face that he thought was encouraging and let a smirk briefly cross his face.

I turned the hooded leader and said, “I don’t know this man, I was just asking him a question about his submission.” I waved my hand to Jason’s submission that sat soggy in the muddy puddle.

With that the look on Jason’s face changed from self assured confidence to utter terror and he screamed.  Then the hooded men placed a hood over Jason’s head and gloves on his hands.  There was eyes, mouth, and ears painted on the hood placed on Jason’s head.  This was in stark contrast to the plan black hoods the men wore.  The gloves also had hands painted on the back of the gloves.  Jason’s flailed against his restrainers to no avail.

The hooded leader stepped back and began to mutter.  I strained to hear and only caught a few words, “…blind…deafen…mute…relegate to obscurity…”  As the hooded leader spook the painted symbols on the hood and gloves began to glow in a brilliant golden light.  My eyes drifted to the submission soaking up the puddle on the ground of the alley and found the letters on the page began to glowing as well.

The only sound that escaped Jason’s hood was a whimper.  With a final pulse of golden light the hood, gloves, and submission stopped glowing.  Jason’s knees gave out on him and he fell with a splash to his knees.

The submission began to rustle drawing my attention.  I watch in disbelief as the letters ripped themselves off of the page and began to pool on the alley.  Soon the pool of letters began to rise and take shape.  In moments the submission was blank and the pool of letters resolved into the shape of a rat about a foot talk.  As soon as the letters were recognizable as a rat they sprinted out of the alley and turned left.

The hooded leader turned to me as his companions gathered the hood and gloves.  He said, “Let this be a lesson to you neophyte.  Cross the guild, act beyond your station and be wary.  For what the guild teaches you it can take away and more.  Take Jason here for your example.  The guild took his writing away from him.  He will not be able to see letters of his own hand.  He will not be able to hear people speak about his past works.  He will not be able to speak about writing.  As you saw with that submission anything he has written for the guild has be banished.  The guild cannot not make him forget what he has written.  He will forever know what he was, but will never be again.  He will not even be able to express it.  So be warned, do not forget what you saw here today and tell your friends.”

I looked back to Jason sobbing in the puddles of the alley.  That was too much.  I didn’t know that they would do this.  I went to say something to the hooded men, but they had slipped back into the shadows.  What had I allowed to happen?

[sceneTK421]

@amurderofcrows- No problem. Out of curiosity, have you been building that world for a while, or was it born from this exercise?