26 Oct 2022, 23:18
Preptober Writing Prompts Week 4
Welcome to the third prompt for Preptober! This prompt will be active from the date of posting to the end of October. Only those who are able to post before the deadline are eligible for the week’s reward.
Your entries are to be posted in this thread, with a minimum of 400 words to claim the reward. Be sure to read the rules before posting, which can be found in the main thread where players must also post to help us keep track of those who have completed the week’s errand.
The Week 4 prompt is:
We’re all excited to see what you come up with, so have fun and happy writing everyone!
Your entries are to be posted in this thread, with a minimum of 400 words to claim the reward. Be sure to read the rules before posting, which can be found in the main thread where players must also post to help us keep track of those who have completed the week’s errand.
The Week 4 prompt is:
All That Jazz
Write your character in the setting of a bar, a cantina, a tavern, a whoopie spot where the mead is cold but the lute is hot, a lunch room, a diner - basically anywhere that serves food or drinks. Maybe they could get into a fight. Maybe they could observe people. What would they order? Would they be a regular customer? Would they hate the food or like the food? Do they think the coffee is dirty dishwater?
We’re all excited to see what you come up with, so have fun and happy writing everyone!
"Books were safer than people anyway.” - N. Gaiman
Parselmouth| Sta: 15| Evas: 12 |Str: 7 |Wis: 12 | Arc Power: 6 | Acc: 13
Parselmouth| Sta: 15| Evas: 12 |Str: 7 |Wis: 12 | Arc Power: 6 | Acc: 13
30 Oct 2022, 09:12
Preptober Writing Prompts Week 4
Week 4
Write your character in the setting of a bar, a cantina, a tavern, a whoopie spot where the mead is cold but the lute is hot, a lunch room, a diner - basically anywhere that serves food or drinks. Maybe they could get into a fight. Maybe they could observe people. What would they order? Would they be a regular customer? Would they hate the food or like the food? Do they think the coffee is dirty dishwater?
In movies about high school, the cafeteria is shown to be electric; it's where the drama happens, the plot thickens, the cliques click. But at Quartz High School, and Raegan imagined at most high schools in real life, the cafeteria had a dull buzz at best; once a year there might be a small squirmish between two rogue students; but mostly, it was where students scarfed down their lunches in thirty minutes while passing around homework answers.
Lunchtime was a routine and the cafeteria, with its boring beiges and whites and creams, provided the hum-drum backdrop to that routine. Raegan always sat between Minnie and Jess, facing the back window that looked out into the teacher's parking lot. She brought lunch every day: a sandwich, apples, gushers, and a bottle of water. She always did her homework the night before, but she was happy to share her answers with the time deficit.
But today, she wasn't sitting at her usual spot. She hadn't even brought lunch—today she was sporting a tray of Taco Tuesday and sitting with her boyfriend. Of course, her friends would ask, probably were asking as they sat in their usual spots, why couldn't Raegan sit with them? Why couldn't he sit with them? Raegan didn't know the answer to this. Trevor wanted to sit over here, in a secluded, dim corner out of view of her usual table or the back windows. Raegan had agreed; she hadn't asked why. She enjoyed being wanted. She enjoyed that someone was yanking her from her normal routine.
Across from her, Trevor was focused on his taco. Inhaling bite after bite. Raegan wasn't sure if they were supposed to be talking. The other table was usually full of jokes and complaints about classes. Raegan took her own taco and crushed it into a taco salad so that she could eat each bite politely.
Finally, she broke the silence, "How was your day?"
Trevor nodded and chewed.
"In calculus, I think I did pretty good on my test."
Trevor nodded and chewed.
"I"m glad they had tacos today. I usually bring my lunch because the food is not good."
Trevor nodded and chewed.
Finally, he finished the tacos. He smiled at her, "I'm so glad you decided to eat with me today."
Raegan returned the smile. "You know, you can always sit with us. Everyone really wants to get know you better."
"Oh there's so many people over there. It's hard to get a word. You know, I'm really shy."
"Right."
WC: 420/400
sta 8 - eva 16 - str 5 - wis 11 - arc 5 - accuracy 13 |||| Parselmouth - Evasive Maneuvers - Beast Master
also Ruckus Weems | Quentin Gagné
31 Oct 2022, 04:37
Preptober Writing Prompts Week 4
Write your character in the setting of a bar, a cantina, a tavern, a whoopie spot where the mead is cold but the lute is hot, a lunch room, a diner - basically anywhere that serves food or drinks. Maybe they could get into a fight. Maybe they could observe people. What would they order? Would they be a regular customer? Would they hate the food or like the food? Do they think the coffee is dirty dishwater?
Words: 562
Reducio
Ikkiki always loved the hustle and bustle of a new tavern on a celebratory night. The harvest season was coming to a close, which meant coin pouches were over-flowing and people were full of reasonable amounts of good cheer. He'd be full of more cheer if his coin pouch was as full as some of the people's he was eying, but there was a good chance it would be by the end of the night.
He and Thelthac may have never been to this particular tavern before, but their family was known fairly well for their bardic talents and generosity towards bartenders and tavern keepers that let them perform. And sometimes turned a blind eye when their customers complained of emptier pockets than they remembered emptying themselves, but it was easy to do when their own pockets ended up a bit fuller for it. Willful ignorance can do wonders for a reputation.
Ikkiki and Thelthac were waiting for the tavern-goers to start getting ready for their performance. That is, waiting for their coin to start flowing as fast as the mead behind the counter. Ikkiki had been disapointed when he hadn't been able to get some for himself, the barkeep quoting that fully grown or not he didn't feel comfortable selling to a three-year-old. Luckily, Thelthac was one-hundred-seventy-five, and that was good enough to convince him to sell him two tankards. Not to mention the dragonborn was a good foot above the satyr's head, and could easily finish it all himself.
The two were preparing their instruments now, having decided it was time for their grand entrance to the stage. In this case that stage was the table they'd been sitting at in the middle of the room, but it was better than some the two had done. Ikkiki had only been on the road for six months now, but Thelthac had been traveling for much longer and had stories upon stories to tell.
Bluebell climbed onto the table, using the stool and a lift from Thelthac to scramble the last stretch onto the steady surface. He knew the two made quite a pair, and although fey folk and other races were common in these parts, a dragonborn and an aarakocra weren't a common sight. People were already turning to glance at them in curiosity, but if there was one thing Ikkiki knew how to do, it was make a scene. And use a fake name and pretend to be a bard and not a petty thief that was magically inclined, but that was neither here nor there.
With a flaring of wings, and a scattering of glowing magic timed along with a harp strum, he exclaimed, "Welcome one and all! To a show from yours truly, Bluebell and Poet, of the travelling bardic guild!" Thelthac took over, his booming voice and confident smile glowing nearly as much as his golden scales, "Be ready for a night of wonder and magic! Allow our instruments to take you on a journey of lights and discovery, in the way only a bard can do! Now, let us celebrate the harvest with an energized jig!"
The two set to playing, and their minor illusions that lit up the tavern delighted everyone enough that no one caught the blue and gold magic hands ensuring people were generous with their tips, as well as applause.
Ikkiki always loved the hustle and bustle of a new tavern on a celebratory night. The harvest season was coming to a close, which meant coin pouches were over-flowing and people were full of reasonable amounts of good cheer. He'd be full of more cheer if his coin pouch was as full as some of the people's he was eying, but there was a good chance it would be by the end of the night.
He and Thelthac may have never been to this particular tavern before, but their family was known fairly well for their bardic talents and generosity towards bartenders and tavern keepers that let them perform. And sometimes turned a blind eye when their customers complained of emptier pockets than they remembered emptying themselves, but it was easy to do when their own pockets ended up a bit fuller for it. Willful ignorance can do wonders for a reputation.
Ikkiki and Thelthac were waiting for the tavern-goers to start getting ready for their performance. That is, waiting for their coin to start flowing as fast as the mead behind the counter. Ikkiki had been disapointed when he hadn't been able to get some for himself, the barkeep quoting that fully grown or not he didn't feel comfortable selling to a three-year-old. Luckily, Thelthac was one-hundred-seventy-five, and that was good enough to convince him to sell him two tankards. Not to mention the dragonborn was a good foot above the satyr's head, and could easily finish it all himself.
The two were preparing their instruments now, having decided it was time for their grand entrance to the stage. In this case that stage was the table they'd been sitting at in the middle of the room, but it was better than some the two had done. Ikkiki had only been on the road for six months now, but Thelthac had been traveling for much longer and had stories upon stories to tell.
Bluebell climbed onto the table, using the stool and a lift from Thelthac to scramble the last stretch onto the steady surface. He knew the two made quite a pair, and although fey folk and other races were common in these parts, a dragonborn and an aarakocra weren't a common sight. People were already turning to glance at them in curiosity, but if there was one thing Ikkiki knew how to do, it was make a scene. And use a fake name and pretend to be a bard and not a petty thief that was magically inclined, but that was neither here nor there.
With a flaring of wings, and a scattering of glowing magic timed along with a harp strum, he exclaimed, "Welcome one and all! To a show from yours truly, Bluebell and Poet, of the travelling bardic guild!" Thelthac took over, his booming voice and confident smile glowing nearly as much as his golden scales, "Be ready for a night of wonder and magic! Allow our instruments to take you on a journey of lights and discovery, in the way only a bard can do! Now, let us celebrate the harvest with an energized jig!"
The two set to playing, and their minor illusions that lit up the tavern delighted everyone enough that no one caught the blue and gold magic hands ensuring people were generous with their tips, as well as applause.
Tesla Stone⭑☾☀☽⭑ ⭑☾𖣂☽⭑Basil Blackwood