[Writing] Inadvisable Voyages: Writing prompt
DARN IT. I was thinking maybe I could try to use the writing prompts from the SWTOR forum's Weekly Short Fic Challenge thread and just apply them to other settings, but I stared at the first prompt (Culture Shock) for half an hour and then let it percolate in the back of my head for five days and then...
Well, then I found an old stub of a piece. It's not a fleshed-out setting. Damned if I remember my original plan for it. It's probably going to be bad, but darn it, if I can improvise stupid lil' fanfic ideas that blow up into 90,000 word sagas I can damn well try something, even if I don't know where it's going, of my own. Thus, Culture Shock is adapted from existing material; the next prompt, Allies, will have to be totally new.
A nine-foot-tall mass of aimless stupidity can stare impressively, even if one eye is twice the size of the other. A troll's stare is a sight to cause derisive laughter or blind panic, and anyone who tries the first option will never get the chance to see whether the second one would have worked better.
A gangly youth with a shock of light brown hair eyed the troll with an amiable smile as he answered its question. "Of course I'm serious. I always am."
The troll frowned as his mind tortuously arrived at its next question. "You crazy, then?"
The boy looked offended. "I believe the word they use is 'eccentric.' Of course, 'they' are all insipid fools with no sense of adventure, no imagination, no desire to see the myriad wonders-" He cut himself short when he realized that he had lost his audience several phrases ago. "No, I'm not crazy," he said resignedly. "I just wanted to know if you were interested, and I guess you're not. Good day."
There was a faint jingling of coin as the youth turned. The troll suddenly felt a calling nearly as deep as the urge to bang rocks together.
"Wait," he said. The human turned back, looking blandly innocent. "I not good at boats. But I good at fighting. I go if you pay."
"Really? Splendid! We set sail in four days' time. You're in for an even share of whatever treasure we may find." He hesitated, then drew a small golden coin from his pocket and tossed it at the troll. "Here. As a token of my goodwill." The troll didn't much care what it was a token of, and he wondered if you could eat tokens. If you couldn't, they mustn't be much good. Except the gold ones, of course. "By the way, what is your name?"
"Snapper."
The smile slipped. "Well then, uh. Snapper. Good day to you. Remember, the Orsoolary Quay!"
"Orsoolary Quay," the creature rumbled obediently. "Four days."
And the youth was gone.
Well, then I found an old stub of a piece. It's not a fleshed-out setting. Damned if I remember my original plan for it. It's probably going to be bad, but darn it, if I can improvise stupid lil' fanfic ideas that blow up into 90,000 word sagas I can damn well try something, even if I don't know where it's going, of my own. Thus, Culture Shock is adapted from existing material; the next prompt, Allies, will have to be totally new.
A nine-foot-tall mass of aimless stupidity can stare impressively, even if one eye is twice the size of the other. A troll's stare is a sight to cause derisive laughter or blind panic, and anyone who tries the first option will never get the chance to see whether the second one would have worked better.
A gangly youth with a shock of light brown hair eyed the troll with an amiable smile as he answered its question. "Of course I'm serious. I always am."
The troll frowned as his mind tortuously arrived at its next question. "You crazy, then?"
The boy looked offended. "I believe the word they use is 'eccentric.' Of course, 'they' are all insipid fools with no sense of adventure, no imagination, no desire to see the myriad wonders-" He cut himself short when he realized that he had lost his audience several phrases ago. "No, I'm not crazy," he said resignedly. "I just wanted to know if you were interested, and I guess you're not. Good day."
There was a faint jingling of coin as the youth turned. The troll suddenly felt a calling nearly as deep as the urge to bang rocks together.
"Wait," he said. The human turned back, looking blandly innocent. "I not good at boats. But I good at fighting. I go if you pay."
"Really? Splendid! We set sail in four days' time. You're in for an even share of whatever treasure we may find." He hesitated, then drew a small golden coin from his pocket and tossed it at the troll. "Here. As a token of my goodwill." The troll didn't much care what it was a token of, and he wondered if you could eat tokens. If you couldn't, they mustn't be much good. Except the gold ones, of course. "By the way, what is your name?"
"Snapper."
The smile slipped. "Well then, uh. Snapper. Good day to you. Remember, the Orsoolary Quay!"
"Orsoolary Quay," the creature rumbled obediently. "Four days."
And the youth was gone.