Almost Drabbles

How about a game?

RULES:
The first person says anything at all,
and the next person has to write a short story off of that,
AND come up with a new “theme.”
The theme could be anything, from a random word, to a phrase, or emotion.
And when answering to a theme, you can use any characters-- fanfiction, something based off a work you’re currently writing, or a new story you’ve just made up.
Keep it verrry short [under 500 words sounds fair? No pressure.]

FOR EXAMPLE:
Person A:
Blue

Person B:
-write a story off of that
-and don’t forget to say a new theme

TO START OFF:
Theme:
TV


@DaughterOfIcarus, this is totally based on the Personification Game [which is a good game I wish more people had played, but yeah, I couldn’t revive it so I’m making this instead]

I’ll just go since… I can’t go to sleep. XD

“You spend all day in front of that thing, don’t you?”
I pause the show I’m watching, and turn around, glaring at Arrossa. “Why does it matter to you?”
“I’m just saying.” She says, moving away from the doorway. “Neil stays up all night studying, but you… I guess twins don’t have to be the same.”
I sigh. “If you’re jealous, you can watch with me.”
“What? No. I don’t have that kind of free time.”
I shrug, and unpause my show. “Suit yourself.”
She lingers in the room for another second, then she stalks away. I finally relax, and dig back into my popcorn.

Theme: rain.

Heavy drops of water fell from the clouds, piercing their way into my open wounds and mingling with blood. As I walked among ripped intestines and scattered brains laying in pools of red, trying with all my might to keep down the little breakfast I had, it was like every destroyed human life slowly demolished any hope I might have had to come out unscathed in all this- there was no hope left for this world.

There was no hope left for me.

So I let the rain wash out my sins, and, though I never have been religious, I sent a prayer above- not for the dead, but for the living. For me.

My mother had always said I was a selfish brat.

Well, here’s a cringy, cliche scene I just whipped together?? lmao.

The theme is: HATRED bc i’m seriously hating someone right now

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Selfish little brats make for good main characters though :joy:
also:
[fanfiction alert]
[all characters belong to Room of Swords]

I pick at my bandaids, his voice stuck in my head.
You think you can turn him against me? Kodya can never hurt me.
“Ugh!” I yell, punching into the floor. Something cracks beneath my fists, and I look down guiltily, as my frustration fades.
Another hole to fix in this damned place.
As if Gyrus hasn’t already broken us up enough.
I sigh, and push myself to my feet, holding the wall at my back for support. My leg still hurts from our fight, and Nephthys said it would take a week to heal, at least, if I stay off of it.
Evidence of Gyrus’s rampage is everywhere-- people with broken limbs, wandering around with dead eyes and lost looks; broken equipment still lying around, since no one had the time or energy to clean it up yet; the hologram, projecting a single sword onto the main pillar of our base. We’d almost collected all the swords to get out of this place, and now–
Gyrus, Gyrus, Gyrus!
He’d ruined everything. And now, all I could think about was him, with the evidence of his destruction everywhere-- as if he hasn’t taken enough from us, now he’s taken my thoughts as well.
“Kodya? Why are you out here?”
I turn around, and see Don wheeling towards me, a worried frown on his face.
“You should still be resting,” he says, glancing at the dent I’d made on the floor.
“Sorry,” I say, smiling. “I couldn’t stay in that room any longer-- can’t I help? Somewhere? I know my leg’s like this, but–”
Don shakes his head. “I know it must be hardest on you, after everything Gyrus did. If you need anything, just… let me know.”
I sigh, rubbing a tired hand across my face. “Thanks, Don. I know you don’t have time to be worrying about me right now…”
Don grabs my shoulder, forcing me to look at him.
He gives me an earnest smile. “We’re here for you Kodya. Just… maybe take someone to an easier portal. You should get some fresh air.”
I sigh again. “Thanks.”
Don nods, and wheels away.
I grab my crutch, which I’d propped near me.
I really do need some fresh air.
Anything, if I could get this frustration to stop building in my chest.
If only Gyrus–
I push the thoughts off my mind, and limp to the stairs.

Next one!
Walking along a beach

Of course, out of all places, my energy runs out over sea.
I fall, my wings fading in a flash of light, and hit the waves painfully.
At least it’s close to the beach. I can make it if I try.
It’s not until I claw my way back into the surface, that I notice something in the sky.
I look up, as the unknown object crashes into my face and sends me gulping for air as water rushes in through my nose and mouth again. I’m tangled in something-- I hear a boy’s voice: “Syl!”-- as I fight for the surface.
But the boy who’d fallen on top of me isn’t letting go, he’s holding on desperately, no matter how many times I kick him in my struggle for surface air.
We finally break through the waves, and I’m spluttering out water as the boy hugs my shoulders, still not letting go.
“Let-- go!” I snap, trying to push him away.
“Are you crazy?” He yells. “I can’t swim!”
"That’s not my problem! Look, I can’t-- " the water pulls us back in, a wave rocks us, and then I’m spluttering out water again, desperately trying to stay afloat. The boy’s grip is choking me, it’s tight around my neck, when I can hardly breathe already. “Let go!
We’re so close to the beach! Wait-- where is the beach? I struggle to turn around, and see it again, now on my right.
Because I don’t have the strength to fight the boy off, I start swimming.
The waves help us, a little. They wash towards the shore, making the swim easier, before they rock back again, making it less easier.
But we make it, after a lot of struggling.
I crawl onto the sand, collapsing at the edge of the waves.
The boy is still not getting off of me, and as I heave for breath, I turn around, toppling him off.
“Oh,” he says, hitting the ground. I watch him, as he sits up, struggling to get his long hair out of his face. Then he looks at me, grinning. “Sylvie!”
I lunge at him, and we’re scuffling in the sand, with what little strength we have left after the cold sea water had sapped it away.
Eventually, I land a punch on his jaw, and roll off of him.
“That,” I pant. “Is what you get for almost killing me. Don’t worry, I’m not done yet. Once I get my breath, you’re gonna die.”
He laughs-- yes, after all that, he laughs to my face.
I lunge at him again, but this time he doesn’t struggle, and in the end, I’m just sitting on top of him, deciding whether or not to kill him. I’m tired from the fight at the stadium, but I’m sure I can muster up enough magic to put him in a hospital for a couple of months.
“You haven’t changed, have you?” He says, laughing again.
That earned him another punch in the face, before I drag him up by his collar so I can see him better.
“Do I know you?” I growl. I’m not usually this violent-- but I guess spending some time in that wizard guild started to rub off on me. After barely escaping that place with my life, and then having to deal with this guy-- I’m pretty sure my anger’s justified.
He rubs at his split lip, licking off the blood. I pause, as I watch his skin heal in front of me.
But he has no aura, so he shouldn’t have magic. But then how–
“Are you… a genie?” I ask.
His face brightens, and he nods. “Do you remember now?”


NEXT!
Umm… jealousy.

Something pangs in my chest.
I’ve never seen those expressions on her face.
Was mother ever capable of such warmth?
I don’t know.
I didn’t care.
“Wynn, I just don’t want you to take on too much. You don’t have to be like your father.”
Ha.
“Mom, I’ll be fine,” Wynn insists. “You always worry too much.”
She does? I was starting to think she didn’t have a heart.
She sighs, glancing at me. “Erin, why are you standing there? Come take a seat.”
My legs won’t move.
I’m not sure what face I’m wearing.
My walls come crashing up, and I control my expression.
I smile. “I have an urgent appointment I forgot about.”
I turn, and make my way across the huge room.
“Erin?” She asks, but her voice is barely audible to me.
“Hey,” Wynn says, grabbing my arm. "What’s-- "
I try to shrug his arm off, but he doesn’t let go. I turn my head, looking back at him with a half-smile. “Let go of me, bastard.”
Oops. Forgot to hold that one in.
He lets go, his face slack with shock.
My smile widens. This little prince probably hasn’t had anyone curse at him before.
Well he better get used to it.
I walk out the door, and keep walking.


(63 days since the last post?!? wow)
neeeext:
pink

"Daddy, daddy!’

“Yes, princess?”

“It’s time for tea!”

I groan. Tea time is my least favorite thing about being a father, but Abigail always got what she wanted. I didn’t have it in me to refuse her.

Abigail’s mother ran away when she was little. I guess I understood. It was hard being married to me and having all the responsibilities that went along with it, but it left me filling the roles of mother and father. I didn’t even like kids. Never wanted them. But the minute I locked eyes with that little girl, I was a goner.

I follow the little blonde-headed girl into her playroom. The bright pink walls burn my eyes. Her little pink tea set sat on her little pink table. Her pink stuffed bunny, Mr. Hops, and her pink teddy, Mrs. Bear, are at the table ready to be served tea. I take my place next to them.

“Daddy! You’re not dressed for tea!” Abigail cries. She runs to her little pink toy chest, her fluffy princess dress flowing behind her. She comes back with a silver tiara, adorned with pink feathers. She places it upon my head with a satisfied smile on her face.

“There! Now you’re pretty, Daddy!” she giggles.

I was always a whips and chains type of guy. Black leather was my go-to. But here I am, the literal king of hell, surrounded by the color pink! Hell, do I hate pink! It burns my soul.

I look into my child’s big blue eyes and my heart swells. Seriously, if anyone knew I had this feeling, I would have to kill them. No one can question my authority. No one can know how much I love this child.

This stupid pink room and this stupid pink tiara are my literal idea of torture. But, for her, I would go through anything.

I just really can’t wait until her teens, with all that sweet teenage angst. Then we can burn this terrible pink room down to the ground, together.

Next theme: slippers!

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(the king of hell?? wow that took a twist. so much pink!)

1 Like

“Neil! Hold up!”
I turn my head, peeking out from underneath my arms. I’d been trying to take a nap before my next class, but getting comfortable on these school desks takes forever.
I see Neil through the windows in our classroom wall, as he stops, and turns around.
Rose catches up to him, slightly panting from the effort of running, and holds out a pair of shoes.
“You’re still wearing your slippers from swimming. At least change into these. We’re probably the same size, and they’re new.”
I sit up a bit, watching Neil with a smile.
He looks down, probably at his slippers, and then takes the shoes in Rose’s hands.
“Thanks,” he says. He bends down, disappearing out of sight from the window frame, probably to put the shoes on.
I can see Rose’s faint blush, as she waits for him, leaning against the wall.
She suddenly glances over, noticing me, and I grin, raising my eyebrows at her.
The crimson in her cheeks darkens, and she stutters some excuse to Neil before she stomps away, turning once to make a rude gesture at me.
I stand up, make my way over to the window, and pull it open.
Neil’s struggling with the laces, his slippers on the floor beside him.
“You’re hopeless.” I sigh.
He glances up briefly, his frown deepening.
You’re one to talk.” He mutters.
“Just go get your own shoes.” I say. “The gym’s not far.”
“I know.”
Oh.
I laugh, leaning against the window frame. “You know this is why it’s so much fun to tease you.”
“Shut up.” He says, giving up on his shoes and standing up.
“You forgot your slippers!” I call after him, as he walks away, his ears red.
——————
Next:
Afternoon

She’s smiling, against the afternoon light.
I turn my head, so I wasn’t looking directly at her. She’s too blinding sometimes.
I should call out to her.
But she’s surrounded by people, and the thought of all of them turning to look at me keeps me away.
I hear her laugh, but I pretend to not notice and sit down farther away. I’m glad this library has closed-off study tables. She can’t see me from here.

By the time I finish, I’m tired, hungry, sleepy, and cold. Not all in that order, but all of those emotions are there, making everything seem irritating.
The afternoon has faded into night, and most people have left by now.
My eyes involuntarily fly to where she’d been sitting, but of course she’s left, too.
I rub my eyes, frowning, wondering if there are any busses back to my dorm at this time.
——-
…I didn’t know where the ending to that one was. I didn’t wanna make it any longer sooo

Next!
Frozen

‘It’s frozen shut,’ I say.
In response, the animals stuck inside the trash can start panicking even more, shouting, ‘Winter death,’ ‘Frozen!’, ‘Frozen!’
I sigh, dragging a tired hand across my face. ‘Calm down. Calm down. I will get you out.’
‘Help!’ ‘Help!’
‘Yeah, I get it,’ I mutter. ‘So calm down first. I’m going to come back in a minute.’
I leave them clamoring and shouting, as I walk down the street to Auntie’s appartment. This is the fifth case this week. The sudden winter snow that had blanketed this city last week seems to have caught most animals off-guard. Maybe the snowstorm had been the result of someone’s magic, since none of the animals had sensed it before-hand.
‘Another case?’ Raju mews, sitting up, as I head for the closet as soon as I step inside the apartment.
‘Yep,’ I say, digging around for Auntie’s hammer.
Raju chuckles. ‘I did warn you.’
‘It’s fine,’ I sigh. ‘It’s a pain, and I hate the cold, and I really want a nap, but it’s fine.’
I find it a moment later, and head back to the alley.
‘Ok, calm down, this is going to make a lot of noise,’ I repeat, about three times. Repetition always seems to calm them down a little bit. I slowly lower the crash can to its side, and hold it against the alley wall.
And then I wack the hammer into the side of the trashcan’s lid.
Tang!
The sound echoes down tha alley, and the animals inside are making more racket than ever before.
I hope they don’t get severely injured before I even get them out.
A few more wacks later, a small crowd of people are at the entrance of the alley, watching on in amusement.
“Animal Whisperer!” One calls. “The Animal Whisperer is on the rampage again!”
“The Savior of the Wretches!”
“The idiot on this street!”
“Ha! That has a nice ring to it.”
I toss a glare at them-- they’ve gotten much too comfortable making fun of me, after seeing me do plenty of ridiculous things for the stray animals in the city for the past few years. I wish they’d help me out, instead of just watching me. But that’s probably asking for too much out of almost-strangers.
The lid finally cracks open, and I wrench it off.
Immediately, a raccoon zips out, and then two others.
I sigh, watching them scurry off into the darkness of the alleyway.
I check my watch-- I’m an hour late to school already.
I groan, and drag myself to my feet. The crowd’s already started to disperse, and I start the short walk to school.
Maybe I can get a late pass again…


NEXT:
hot chocolate