How well do you know your main character? the SF/F edition

StarryEyes

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Prompt: What have you got in your pocket?

"Hey, what's that in your pocket?"

Noe reached out towards her. Ashaya pulled back.

"Leave it alone!"

Noe started and dropped her hand.

"Why? What is it?"

"It doesn't matter," Ashaya snapped.

"That means it matters."

Noe reached out again.

"Don't," Ashaya said. "Please."

"Can I know what it is?"

Ashaya crossed her arms over her waist.

"If you don't tell me," Noe said, "I'll grab it myself."

"It's my brother's hair."

She had spoken quickly, quietly. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she pulled her knees up to her chest, suddenly vulnerable. Noe stared at her.

"Your brother's hair?"

"It's a tradition," Ashaya muttered. "When someone dies, everyone who's older than seven cuts their hair. We give it to the dead person, and take theirs."

"Your brother's dead?"

Ashaya nodded once.

Noe sat down on the bench opposite her. She began to swing her legs backwards then forwards, tapping her toes against the wall, stretching them out in front of her, tapping, stretching, tapping, stretching. Her eyes stayed glued on Ashaya.

"I let him die," Ashaya said. "He died in front of my eyes, and I didn't do anything to help him. I didn't know what to do. Now… Now it's my parents, and thousands of other people, who are about to die. Now, I know what to do."

Her voice broke.

"Except now, I can't."

Prompt: "I know you can't stand me, but we have to work together from now on."
 

Blinkk

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(the author is laughing evilly from her computer chair. What a good prompt!)

"I know you can't stand me, but we have to work together from now on." Jarik examined a fingernail as he spoke.

Adel stared at him as if he were nothing more than a weed in the king's flower garden. Jarik's noblemen hairstyle and his stupid puffed shoulder pads resembled a monkey more than the son of the king's adviser. He'd never touched a blade in his life. He didn't even like to travel.

"Who ordered this?" Usually, Adel could keep his facial expressions neutral - a skill from his previous line of work. Today, his nostrils flared.

Jarik sighed and turned his back to Adel. "My father. A real champion in pairing up the boys of court-"

"You've got to be kidding me. If there weren't enough dangerous men on my back already. You'd slow me down. Hopefully not get me killed, but I'm a realist here. You have zero use in a task of this magnitude." Adel touched his thumb to his middle finger to form a circle to emphasize. "Go back to court and have some illegitimate children. You're not welcome here."

"Ha." It was a quiet sound but there was venom in his voice. "My father will like that. Orders being overridden by a killer, I mean."

Adel's knife was in his hand before he knew what he was doing with it. In four quick strides his palm was up against Jarik's chest and he pushed the boy against the wall. The knife pressed against Jarik's collar (a green, fashionable Canthanian high style collar to note) and Adel dropped his voice low. "Name one reason why I should take you with me. Just one."

Jarik thought about saying my father said, but bit his tongue. Indeed the pairing wasn't made on logic. There was a secondary reason. True enough, Jarik couldn't win a sword fight or ride galloping horses away from evading enemies. He could however, spy on people the adviser mistrusted under the adviser's orders.

Jarik lifted his chin, a small dare against the knife's edge. "Because I am good with the people while you are brash."

Nostrils still flared Adel pulled the dagger away and sheathed it. He turned on his heel and spoke as he turned the doorknob. "I leave tonight from the stables when the moon is at its peak. I hope you fall and break your leg before you make it there. Otherwise..." he let out a frustrated breath and shoved his way through the door, never finishing his thought.

If only he'd suspected Jarik a little more. Then the future disaster might have been prevented.

---

Another prompt! Let's get some action going. :D Take two of your characters from different works you've written. They're both thrown into a jail cell. Here's the prompt:
"Look, this floorboard is loose. Think we could escape?"
 
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Taejang

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Another prompt! Let's get some action going. :D Take two of your characters from different works you've written. They're both thrown into a jail cell. Here's the prompt:
"Look, this floorboard is loose. Think we could escape?"

Warning: I got a little carried away with this one. I don't see any kind of spoiler tag, so I guess you just get this short story as-is. Sorry folks. Feel free to scroll to the end for the next prompt if you don't want to read this.

"Look, this floorboard is loose," Aaron Hagestan said, pulling up on the squeaky board with two pudgy fingers. "Think we can escape?"

Without a word, Jaxon wiggled his fingers under the board and pulled. The stubborn board bent slightly, but whatever mechanism held it in place refused to budge.

Aaron lifted an eyebrow. "Ah. Looks like they used screws."

With a grunt, Jaxon pulled his fingers out and leaned back. The board snapped back into place with a twang, nearly catching Aaron's fingers. "What's a screw?" Jaxon asked.

"What's a..." Aaron looked at the young man incredulously. "You don't know what a screw is?"

Jaxon's eyes closed briefly in concentration as blue Elmorian magic filled his arms. Both his hands turned ocean-blue as he pressed them against the spot where the board had bent. Cold seeped into the wood, freezing it hard.

Shaking his arms as the blue faded, Jaxon grabbed the board and hauled on it once more. This time, unable to bend, the board creaked and snapped.

"Huh. Neat trick," Aaron said, scratching his chin. "But how does someone as trim as you keep enough energy to do any magic?"

Jaxon looked sideways at the large man. "You don't need fat to do magic."

"Sure you do. The power has to come from somewhere."

Jaxon shrugged as he looked into the hole. There was another board a few inches below the first, probably the ceiling of the room below. With one board out, Jaxon set about methodically removing enough of the floor to fit the pudgy Aaron through.

"You could help," Jaxon said, sweat beading on his forehead.

"But you are doing such a wonderful job!" Aaron beamed happily. Jaxon stopped to glare at the obese mage, but Aaron was watching between the thick iron bars of their cell and didn't notice.

Finally, Jaxon guessed he had enough of the floor removed for the big man to get through. "Alright," he said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand. "I'm going to take a peak at what's in the room below."

"Don't bother," Aaron said confidently. "I scryed it earlier. It's an empty dinner hall. A small one, probably for servants."

"Scryed?" Jaxon asked, unfamiliar with the word.

"Yeah. Used magic to look at the room."

"What color of magic can do that?"

"Magic isn't associated with colors, you know," Aaron said with a wink. "Now, down we go!"

The big man jumped into the middle of the ceiling below. The boards creaked, but held firm. Aaron began jumping up and down.

"You idiot, everyone in the whole keep is going to hear that!" Jaxon said, trying unsuccessfully to pull the big man over.

"Then you'd better be ready," Aaron said between jumps. An ominous cracking sound came from one of the boards. As Aaron muttered words of power, an invisible spell weakened the boards below him. More cracking sounded with the next jump.

"You're just going to fall into the room below?" Jaxon pictured the fat man breaking through like a cannon ball and hitting whatever was below with almost as much force.

"Not just me," Aaron said, grabbing Jaxon under both armpits. Jaxon barely had time to struggle before Aaron jumped again. The weakened ceiling cracked and splintered with the impact, dropping both men five feet down to a table below.

Aaron released Jaxon mid-fall and rolled backwards in a surprising display of agility for one so large, though it was marred somewhat when his shirt ripped on a piece of wood. Jaxon, unprepared but always a soldier, landed painfully but without any real injury.

"You crazy lunatic, you almost-" Jaxon stopped mid-sentence at the sound of voices outside the dimly-lit servants' dining hall.

"Time to go," Aaron said, picking himself up off the table and plopping onto the dirt ground. Channeling magic, the large man prepared a powerful spell. Jaxon wasn't sure in the uncertain light coming from a single dirty window, but it almost looked like the man's thick neck shrank a little.

The dining room's door opened and two armored soldiers walked in. "Leroy, I thought I told you..." the soldier blinked in surprise at finding two escaped prisoners and a gaping hole in the ceiling. Aaron released his spell and a fireball as large as a buckler streaked toward the two men. To their credit, they both leaped aside, but the fireball hit the doorframe behind them and exploded anyway.

"This way," Aaron yelled over the screaming men. He began casting another spell toward the dining room's window. Jaxon simply picked up a chair and flung it through the glass before Aaron could complete his spell.

"I suppose that works, too," the mage said as Jaxon jumped out the window. Aaron waddled over as the two soldiers behind him finally fell silent in death. Flames licked at the wooden walls as smoke slowly began to fill the room.

Using a piece of the ceiling, Aaron cleared broken glass from the window. Outside, Jaxon embraced blue Elmorian magic once more, this time pulling a great deal of energy out of his inner reserves. A guard from the keep's front rushed around the building's outer corner, meeting an ice bullet fired from Jaxon's outstretched palm.

The guard crumpled without a sound as Aaron heaved himself through the window. He fit, but barely. Jaxon's whole body turned a deep blue as he ran past the downed guard to look around the corner.

The keep's courtyard swarmed with guards. Metal armor clinked against itself as soldiers poured out of the keep and a squat barracks. The portcullis in the courtyard's outer wall had already slammed shut. The timber walls were only about fifteen feet tall, but they were too high to climb quickly and the stone gate with its portcullis looked almost impenetrable.

Jaxon ducked back around the wall as an archer pointed in his direction. "Got any ideas, Big One?" he called back to Aaron as the mage caught up.

"Sure do!" he said cheerfully. "You guard me, and I'll make a hole in that wall," he pointed directly forward, just right of the stone gate.

"That doesn't seem like the best idea," Jaxon said, leaning around the corner to fire three ice bullets at oncoming soldiers. All three shots missed.

Aaron ignored him and knelt beside the dying, unconscious soldier. "Sorry, friend," he said as he placed one hand on the man's armored chest.

The first group of guards reached the corner. Jaxon threw a jet of water into their faces. Sputtering and blinking, the men were too slow to react to Jaxon's ice bullets. In a moment, four dead or dying soldiers lay in a heap.

Raw energy flowed into Aaron from the guard. The man's skin began to shrink and collapse in on itself as first fat, then muscle was absorbed by Aaron's magic. It looked like the guard was rotting from the inside out in seconds. The energy snapped and hissed along Aaron's skin and clothes, making his hair stand on end.

Fifteen soldiers rounded the corner and immediately began sliding on the sheet of ice Jaxon had placed on the ground. Three of the men went down in a tumble, and two more fell to Jaxon's ice bullets, but then the men were on Jaxon. Swords and maces flashed as the nimble young man dodged and blocked with magically-created ice, but he would be overwhelmed in seconds.

"Aaron!" he yelled. Deep in concentration, the mage didn't respond. Screaming, Jaxon jumped back from a sword swipe and threw his magic out in one big explosion of power. A jet of water slammed into the soldiers, shoving them back in a gurgling torrent of men and weapons. One soldier had flanked far enough around Jaxon's side to avoid the sudden stream of water, but he stopped in surprise as his comrades were flung away.

Sweating and panting, Jaxon pulled on his inner reserves of red Sentothi magic. Entering a battle meditation, he drew upon his last source of magic and threw jet after jet of fire at the soldiers as they struggled to rise. Soaking wet, the men were somewhat protected for a moment, though the one dry soldier screamed in agony as his metal breastplate immediately began to burn him under the intense magical flames.

More soldiers arrived, but none of them jumped into the inferno before them. A few of the burning soldiers were pulled to safety or made it around the corner, though their howls of pain made it clear they were still out of the fight. The rest died, their burnt skin creating a smell so foul that several soldiers retched. It was a familiar smell to Jaxon.

Panting and out of energy, Jaxon's flames finally cut off. "Aaron..."

Several grim-faced soldiers stepped cautiously toward Jaxon, shields held in front to protect them from any more surprises. Aaron stood up behind Jaxon, raw energy sparking around his now baggy clothes.

"Gul kor ram!" Aaron threw a fist over Jaxon's shoulder and magic exploded from it. A concussive shockwave blasted the soldiers, flinging them like toys. Those who weren't caught in the blast shied away, fearful of what this mage would do next. Aaron took the offered opening and sprinted straight ahead toward the keep's enclosing wall.

As soon as he was past the corner, arrows flew out to greet him. Most missed, though several should have hit. Jaxon ran behind the sparking mage, dumbfounded as arrows bounced off when they should have stuck fast and deep.

Reaching the wall, Aaron yelled the same spell. "Gul kor ram!" This time, he threw all his energy into it. The shockwave smashed into the wooden timbers, splitting logs and echoing with the sound of thunder.

"Through the breach!" Aaron pulled Jaxon, who had stopped to shield his eyes from sawdust and splinters. The pair sprinted through a wagon-sized hole and out the other side. Stunned soldiers were slow to begin firing arrows again, giving the two a head start.

Aaron's clothing now hung off him like sheets, and he had to use both hands to hold his pants up as he ran. "I feel as light as a feather!" the mage exclaimed with a grin. "I haven't been this weight since the summer of '33!"

"What happened to you?" Jaxon asked as they ran.

"Used all my fat to power that spell. And that one soldier's tissues, too."

"You... converted him into energy?"

"Of course! I can't blow through walls every day, you know. It's going to take me months to regain my fat reserves."

"You were fat on purpose?"

"Only way to store energy," the thin Aaron said. "How do you power your spells?"

"With focus and energy from inside myself," Jaxon replied, confused. He had never heard of spells using fat.

"Maybe you should try my method," Aaron grinned broadly. "I get to eat as much as I want!"

Prompt: "You have to go to the bathroom now?"
 
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Blinkk

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quick note: In this fantasy world, a GIT is a gunslinger-in-training.

---

“You have to go to the bathroom now?” Devin almost shot the stupid GIT. “I never should have brought you.”

“What do you want me to do? Apologize?” Oberon rolled his eyes. His horse must have felt his discomfort; she hesitated. “No, no, no, keep moving baby.” He squeezed her and she walked on.

“You’re more than welcome to dismount. I see a tree you can piss on. Down there.” Devin pointed to the nearest tree. It was half a mile below them, somehow managing to grow out of the side of a cliff.

The tiny path cut into the cliff side didn’t allow room for dismounting. A horse could barely fit on the trail.

“If we’d taken the normal trail like the rest of the gunslingers we’d have plenty of piss room.” Oberon frowned.

“Did I say there was an ambushing waiting for us? Do you think I’m making this up because I wanted to take a stroll on a crumbling cliff path that hasn’t been used in twenty years?”

“Doesn’t change the fact I have to-"

“Shut up.” Devin interrupted before he could finish. He mumbled to his gelding, “Of all the times he has to take a piss. Had to be now.”




Is there something your MC would protect at all costs? A person? A secret? A religious philosophy? Their political position?
 

Twick

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Oh, yes. To the point of obsession, almost. As he says at the end of Book 1:

----
I wonder what Mama would think of all this. She gave me the two best presents a mother could–my brother, and my life. I wish I had a chance to thank her, but all I can do is treasure them in her honour.

Protecting them is going to be a challenge. The things I’ve learned this year about my family are fascinating. Fascinating, and more than a little horrifying. There are so many threats, some open, some hidden. So, I’ve come to a decision.

I’m never going to be king, and I’m glad of that. I’m going to make sure that Wulfsethen has the best chance possible to be the king he was born to be. He has the heart of a warrior, but he’s still, as my father would say in disgust, innocent. I’m not, any longer. But that gives me an advantage. If anyone wants to take his birthright away, they’ll have to come through me, and I’ll be ready.

I’ll learn to be what the Oracle said my father was. Cunning and venomous. I’ll watch everything and everyone who could threaten Wulfsethen, with the unblinking gaze of Naedre of the Open Eye. I will protect him, as I was once protected.

----

Question - Someone approaches your MC and tells them "I have a choice for you. You can follow the path you're on, with all its difficulties and dangers. Or you can run away and join the circus. No, don't roll your eyes. Circus. Seriously. Clown, high-wire artist, lion tamer, you take your pick. No one will ever know, or follow you there. A whole new life." What would your MC choose?
 

ShadowVafel

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Question - Someone approaches your MC and tells them "I have a choice for you. You can follow the path you're on, with all its difficulties and dangers. Or you can run away and join the circus. No, don't roll your eyes. Circus. Seriously. Clown, high-wire artist, lion tamer, you take your pick. No one will ever know, or follow you there. A whole new life." What would your MC choose?

He would definitly refuse. As much as it would tempt him to leave his life behind he has a sense of duty, and he can't leave it behind just to make his life easier.

Do you think you'r MC characteristics would change much if it was the opposite sex? And if yes how much and in what manner?
 

Taejang

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Do you think you'r MC characteristics would change much if it was the opposite sex? And if yes how much and in what manner?
Jaxon wouldn't change a bit. His culture treats both genders with remarkable uniformity, forcing masculinity on all in a bid to build the perfect army. Though once escaping that culture, it would certainly impact his relationships with more recent friends.

Your MC has been found guilty and will be executed in a few hours. There is no hope of escape or survival. When asked what they want for their last meal, what does your MC request, and why?
 

tianaluthien

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Your MC has been found guilty and will be executed in a few hours. There is no hope of escape or survival. When asked what they want for their last meal, what does your MC request, and why?


Raoul wouldn't ask for anything fancy. He loves the finer things in life, but having an exquisite dish prepared poorly by a prison chef is not how he wants to remember his last meal. He'll take whatever they offer him, but ask for enough wine that he doesn't have to think about what's coming.

Prompt: It was a strange sky. He/She'd never seen like it before. He/She couldn't tell if it promised doom or joy. With a sigh she/he started forward. There was only one way to find out.
 

ShadowVafel

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Prompt: It was a strange sky. He/She'd never seen like it before. He/She couldn't tell if it promised doom or joy. With a sigh she/he started forward. There was only one way to find out.

It was a strange sky. He’d never seen like it before. He couldn't tell if it promised doom or joy. With a sigh he started forward. There was only one way to find out. He started marching forward with a cautious stride, the sand beneath his feat deforms and sparks when thrown into the air like it was made of stardust. He knew not how he got there but he knew one thing – if there is a way into this world, there must be a way out as well.

Long hours have passed and not a single soul or a sign of life could be seen throughout the purple and mysterious wasteland. The sky was colorful and strange, beautiful even. The magnificent view of this world’s heaven was enough to cause the hours drift by unnoticed by the white-haired guardian.
Another stardust dune to climb. No resort but to climb this one as well like he has done so many before it. Each step sunk into the sand making the climb harder than usual. The peak of the dune was revealed to him soon enough, just moments before he claimed it. The winds were strong atop this one – messing his white hair and causing his coat to wave in the wind like a black leather flag. The dune was a part of a circular dune formation, each sister identical to the others, creating a sandy maw when viewed from above. There was something strange at the middle of it. It was rocky, solid and flat, unlike the rest of what he have seen so far. The purple dark rock was also a perfect circle and he would assume unnatural had he knew anything about this world. His curiosity drew him, and with a stable slide down the dune he approached the stone floor. As he stepped on it he felt energy coursing through it. He never met such energies before but he could feel them clearly as he felt his own.
“Anything here?” Shadow called to the void, the winds starting to swirl around him as if enraged by his presence “C’mon! I know there is something here! Spirits of this world? Guardian of this shrine? Hell I’ll take ghosts if it means I’ll get to get out of this place.”
The wind grew stronger, concentrating on the middle of the stone platform. Sand began to rise from the ground and forming, creating a humanoid form at the same dimensions as Shadow. The stardust seemed like an empty husk mimicking the one before it, held inside by purple lightning that couldn’t help it but sprout out occasionally. Shadow could feel the primal energies of this place flowing into the figure before him, sustaining its form.

“OK!” Shadow commented with glee, even though he was rather disturbed by the shape the presence took “Yea. I’ll take that. Can you help me get off this rock? I have some things to do back home. Not that this place isn’t nice and all, but this purple sand gets boring after a…”
The stardust husk interrupted the guardian with a swing of his sword, made of purple light manifested into solid matter. Shadow was quick to react – drawing his blade with blazing speed and blocking his opponents attack. The blades clashed and locked with the sound of screaming steel and singing light, the force made by it pushing away the sand on the stone floor away from them both.
“Someone’s a bit touchy feely about his world I see.” Shadow taunted the being, his lips curve into an insolent smirk. He pushed forth, knocking back his assailant and forcing him to hop back and gain some distance. Shadow prepared for the attack, his sword being engulfed by red plasma flames causing it to look like a blazing black obsidian blade.
Shadow charged at the husk with all his might, swinging his sword at force. Each blow was blocked by the being’s light sword – sparking with red and purple as both produce light and flaming ribbons of color. The steel roared and the light produced a sweet and pure sound with each block and clash causing an enchanting tune accompanied by beautiful sparks of red and purple.
The being saw the chance to strike and thrusted his sword forth. Shadow was too fast for him though and with a quick step to the side dodged the piercing blow. He raised his sword with one hand and made a step back at his foe, lowering the blade with the momentum of his movement. The husk foresaw this attack and was quick to raise his weapon in defense.
Skybane landed with force, clashing with the purple solid light yet again. This time the light screamed in agony instead of the fine tune it had released so far. The blow pushed the light sword’s owner back, continuing her journey and eventually hitting the stone floor; carving into it and sending many shards to the air. The stardust husk was launched off the stone floor into the sand. He landed on it stiff and motionless.
Within the second he began crumbling and sand returned to sand. The purple lightning inside lost its form, turning into a ball of floating electricity of pure energy. It stood still for a few moments, as if realizing he had just lost his body.
Shadow just gazed at the ball preparing for the moment it would launch itself at him.
Against the expectation of the young guardian the ball jumped in the air, floating and dancing around the entire dune made maw until eventually finding its rest at the center of the stone platform. He began growing in size, changing himself into a large disk of swirling energy like a two dimensional maelstrom.
A portal.
Shadow just looked at what he assumed was his way home in utter shock.
“That’s it?!” he cried “I had to knock you off the ring? I thought I have to solve some sort of puzzle or that I need to outwit you or even discover that the key home was within me all along. All I had to do was to push you off the ring?!”
Shadow shook his head and walked to the portal.
“I swear,” he muttered as he entered it “you guardians of ancient gateways become lazier and lazier…”

prompt: "It sounds worse than it's actually is. Now stop being a baby and get inside!"
 

Shadowflame

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prompt: "It sounds worse than it's actually is. Now stop being a baby and get inside!"

(this made me laugh)

Ty gave her brother a slight shove. "It sounds worse than it actually is. Now stop being a baby and get inside."

Dade looked over his shoulder. His face was pale and his eyes wide. She knew he was stepping into some bad memories with this training but he hadn't been gentle with making her face her fears either.

She gave him another little shove. "I'll be right behind you."

He breathed in deeply, but Ty could tell he wasn't assured. But he stepped inside the dome.

"Ready Shadow?" she whispered into the comm link before she stepped into the hole.

Your character has an unexpected weekend. What does he/she/it do? What kind of trouble does this lead to?
 

Blinkk

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He'd probably go see some kind of show. Maybe a burlesque, maybe a play (if movies were around in his world, he'd go there.) There would be alcohol at some point and that's where the trouble would start.

Having had many life threatening experiences, your MC sat down to write their will and testament. Who would they leave their belongings to? Who do they pick to manage their affairs after they've died?
 

tianaluthien

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Having had many life threatening experiences, your MC sat down to write their will and testament. Who would they leave their belongings to? Who do they pick to manage their affairs after they've died?

Hmmm. Interesting scenario since both my MCs are con artists and living in the sketchy part of town with a law all its own. Let's see.

Raoul would leave his tools of the trade (being such things as lock picks, gem cutters, etc.) to Amadi who has been the closest thing to a father, and his knives to Min. He would leave a certain necklace -- one with a heart-shaped ruby surrounded by silver and tiny diamonds -- to Esmera as part-apology, part-declaration. His business would mostly cease and his "clients" would find other people to do business with.

As for Esmera...she doesn't have much. She's learned to live life as a shadow. She'd leave the ruby & crystal mobil to Raoul, since he's the one that made it for her, along with instructions to burn everything in her flat so that nothing could be traced back to him or Amadi or Min. And then it would as though she'd never existed.

Your MC finds themselves lost in a maze and the clock is ticking down. How are they feeling? Do they find their way out? If not, what happens? There may or may not be monsters lurking. Your call.
 

E.F.B.

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Your MC finds themselves lost in a maze and the clock is ticking down. How are they feeling? Do they find their way out? If not, what happens? There may or may not be monsters lurking. Your call.

I think Ashley would do fine in a maze, though it might depend on what happens when the clock finishes ticking down. If it's just a fun every-day contest where, when the clock runs down you simply loose the contest and have to come out of the maze, I think she's smart enough that she'd keep a cool head and find her way out. She might not get the best ever time for getting through the maze, but she'd get out in a decent amount of time and at least beat the clock.

If, however, the maze was some fantasy-type situation where there were monsters running free, or maybe monsters come out when the clock runs out, I think Ashley would survive and still find her way out eventually, but it would take more effort for her to keep her head clear and not panic.

Do you think your MC would read and enjoy any real-world books that have been released in the past ten years? If so, what genre would they prefer and which book do you think would be their favorite? If your character happens to be illiterate, which genre/book would they like if they knew how to read?
 

Taejang

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Do you think your MC would read and enjoy any real-world books that have been released in the past ten years? If so, what genre would they prefer and which book do you think would be their favorite? If your character happens to be illiterate, which genre/book would they like if they knew how to read?
Jaxon would love a lot of nonfiction. The Art of War, and similar treatises on tactics and strategy, would be his favorites by far. Metallurgy would be fascinating to him, and I could see Jaxon becoming a hobbyist blacksmith. An older Jaxon would probably get in deep with the study of people- political theory, game theory, historical texts, etc.

As he is, I doubt he'd find any reason whatsoever to read fiction of any genre. He would see it as frivolous. If he stayed in our culture long enough, that would change, and he would likely be fascinated by other depictions of magic, though I doubt he would ever touch teen series' like Harry Potter. More likely Mistborn, Wheel of Time, those sorts of things.

Your MC has to get a low paying, menial-task type job. You can invent the reasons why they must do so. What job would they pick, and why? (It must be something a teenager with no experience, degrees, or unusual skills could get, like a cashier, custodian, hired-hand for farming, etc.)
 

Marlys

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Your MC has to get a low paying, menial-task type job. You can invent the reasons why they must do so. What job would they pick, and why? (It must be something a teenager with no experience, degrees, or unusual skills could get, like a cashier, custodian, hired-hand for farming, etc.)

Landscaping, I think. Chess is 'highly strung' with a lot of 'nervous energy'--in this time and place, we'd diagnose him as ADHD and give him some meds to calm him down. But where he is, he's learned he can self-medicate soothe his nerves with lots of physical activity during the day, and alcohol at night. Hard labor actually suits him just fine, and he likes being outdoors. So let him dig holes, plant trees, clip hedges. It will only help.

Why would he have to? Well, at the moment he's rich and married to a very important person. But...um. People die. If he were suddenly single and had reasons to flee the country, he could conceivably end up clipping hedges in a foreign land. He won't, but he could.

QUESTION: Someone insults your MC. Laugh it off, instant fistfight, witty quip in reply, pistols at dawn, smolder and get even later? Or something else?
 

OceanMadness

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Landscaping, I think. Chess is 'highly strung' with a lot of 'nervous energy'--in this time and place, we'd diagnose him as ADHD and give him some meds to calm him down. But where he is, he's learned he can self-medicate soothe his nerves with lots of physical activity during the day, and alcohol at night. Hard labor actually suits him just fine, and he likes being outdoors. So let him dig holes, plant trees, clip hedges. It will only help.

Why would he have to? Well, at the moment he's rich and married to a very important person. But...um. People die. If he were suddenly single and had reasons to flee the country, he could conceivably end up clipping hedges in a foreign land. He won't, but he could.

QUESTION: Someone insults your MC. Laugh it off, instant fistfight, witty quip in reply, pistols at dawn, smolder and get even later? Or something else?
My hero Fel is actually pretty high-strung too (and also uses alcohol to calm his nerves.) His response is going to depend on a lot of factors though. He's got a hair trigger temper but he's been beaten enough times to play it safe when it looks like he's outgunned. It also depends on the insult. He's a loathed racial minority and pretty touchy about racism. If he thinks he will win he will beat the holy hell out of someone without compunction.

Your MC has a life-altering secret. Would s/he tell anyone? Who would s/he tell?
 
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Blinkk

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Yup. Hawthorne does. And no he won't tell a soul. The secret leads to a pretty crappy ending because the way the secret works out is that his whole family thinks he's dead for ten years. That is, until the brother stumbles upon Hawthorne in the forest by accident.

Is there anything your MC will absolutely refuse to do under any circumstance?
 

StarryEyes

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Is there anything your MC will absolutely refuse to do under any circumstance?

Kill a child. Anything else is fair game.

If your MC lived in the modern world, in which culture would they feel most at home?
 

Taejang

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If your MC lived in the modern world, in which culture would they feel most at home?
I modeled my MC's birth country off of a combination of German, Russian, and Japanese tendencies and values (circa 1930s), and Jaxon is currently living in something akin to the USA (of indeterminable era). But today, he would be most at home in Switzerland, as part of their highly-professional army that doesn't have to get involved in other people's crap. Runners up: Australia or Canada, both with decent military units and cultures Jaxon could get behind. Japan is actually a close cultural fit, but more like Japan of the past. He wouldn't fit in well with high-tech Japan.

What modern profession would your MC pick?
 

tianaluthien

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What modern profession would your MC pick?

Esmera would be a professional dancer because she has dance in her blood. Raoul would be a gemologist/jeweler.


Ok. Here's a prompt:

He/She stared at the paper in his hand, then at the ship waiting in the docks. All around was the smell of rotting seaweed, the mournful cry of the gulls as they wheeled overhead. His/Her hand clenched, crumpling the paper. How much longer could s/he afford to wait?
 

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Ok. Here's a prompt:

He/She stared at the paper in his hand, then at the ship waiting in the docks. All around was the smell of rotting seaweed, the mournful cry of the gulls as they wheeled overhead. His/Her hand clenched, crumpling the paper. How much longer could s/he afford to wait?

Hmm, that sounds close to where I'm going with my WIP:

I knew it was time to go home, to leave Harskenden and return to my own homeland. Gaeda's letter was, as usual, oblique and indirect, the caution resulting from long years of being a spy. But it disquieted me. I'd pictured home as a place to heal, but the letter told me not to expect a haven there.

Anyway, my father, the King, was calling me back. Even if I wanted to stay, if each street didn't have a memory of the girl I'd loved, and each crying gull didn't seem to keen her name, I had no choice. I must once again take my chances upon the Whale's Road.

Question: Would your OP celebrate a holiday like Halloween, and if so, what would they dress as?
 
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shuffler of words

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I have two equal MC. A male and a female one.
He would be delighted by such an excellent idea and would dress as Ramses II.

She would think of it as an utterly dumb idea and would try to refuse to do such nonsense. But her best friend would be delighted and coerce the MC into dressing up together. Which would result in something extremely cute and embarassing for the MC.

Question: If your MC could change the laws of physics in the storyverse. What would (s)he change and why?
 

Taejang

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Question: If your MC could change the laws of physics in the storyverse. What would (s)he change and why?
After considerable thought, Jaxon would remove all magic from the world. By equalizing the nations as much as possible, he would hope to remove their differences and promote understanding. Short term, it would likely end a war and make it impossible for them to fight (large scale) for quite some time, but long-term it would devastate their medical, communication, and production capabilities, making the world a worse place. And eventually war would return as the nations regained the ability to project force efficiently, using technology instead of magic.

This leads to an interesting question. With the power to do so, what is the "largest" action your MC would do, and how would it backfire despite their good intentions?
 

tianaluthien

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This leads to an interesting question. With the power to do so, what is the "largest" action your MC would do, and how would it backfire despite their good intentions?

Assuming the MC has good intentions. Mine doesn't. Raoul is a jewel thief and has half the underworld in his pocket, and the other half don't want to mess with him. THAT BEING SAID. With the power to do so, Raoul would pull off a heist in the castle of Mrakslava, a relation of the king. Her fortress is supposed to be impregnable, but he thrives on challenge. This would backfire on him because she's a sorceress (a fact not everyone knows...) and while he might initially get away for it, she'd track him down and make him pay in the most evil way possible.

Scene setting:

S/he opened his eyes warily. Apart from a splitting headache, s/he seemed to be alright. "Where am I?" s/he groaned.

"Dead," said a voice that was far too chipper. "Welcome to the afterlife."
 
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E.F.B.

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Scene setting:

S/he opened his eyes warily. Apart from a splitting headache, s/he seemed to be alright. "Where am I?" s/he groaned.

"Dead," said a voice that was far too chipper. "Welcome to the afterlife."
Oh, this is a perfect prompt for my MC and her friend!

For context: Ashley is the MC and she's human. Elas and his uncle Galahyn are elves. In this world, all elves have various magical talents, but only a very few are Healers. Galahyn is a Healer. All he has to do is touch someone who is hurt and his life force goes into the hurt person and heals them. The problem is that Healer elves have to be careful, because if someone is really badly hurt and the Healer elf expends too much life force to heal them, the Healer elf can sometimes end up hurting him/herself too. So with that in mind, here we go...

*********

Ashley opened her eyes warily. Apart from a splitting headache, she seemed to be alright. "Where am I?" she groaned.

"Dead," said a voice that was far too chipper. "Welcome to the afterlife."

Ashley turned her aching head just enough to find Elas sitting on a low stool next to the place she was lying, a lopsided smile plastered across his face as he leaned over her. "Shut up," Ashley grumbled. "I'm not dead." She halfheartedly shoved him away.

"Nice to see you too," Elas chuckled, putting his hands up in self-defense. "Is this the thanks I get for carrying you all the way back here?"

"What are you talking about, Elas? Where is here?" Ashley rubbed her temples out of annoyance and pain. "Why does my head hurt so much?"

Elas' smile faded. "You really don't remember?"

"Remember what?" Ashley asked. Carefully, so as not to make her head hurt any more, she sat up.

Elas blinked at her. "You were hurt..."

Suddenly, an image flashed through Ashley's mind: A [insert mythological being here] heading right for her. She couldn't get away. The flash of cold steel. Blinding pain. Darkness.

Ashley gasped.

"What's wrong?"

"The [mythological being]! It found me! It found me and it..." Throwing back her covers, Ashley pressed a hand to her stomach. Though she remembered being stabbed, there was no wound to be found. No pain aside from her throbbing head, and no blood. In fact, she was wearing entirely different clothes. Clean and undamaged. "Wha-?" Ashley looked at Elas, her eyes wide with confusion.

"Ashley, it's alright. You're fine. You're not hurt anymore," Elas said soothingly. He took her hand and held it tight. "Just stay calm. I'll try to explain. Do you remember anything besides being stabbed?"

Ashley shook her head. "No. No, I really don't, except maybe..." Another image flashed through her mind. A shorter one this time. "I think... I think remember laying on the ground, bleeding. I was alone, but then your uncle, Galahyn was there. He was leaning over me. There was blood on his hands. I think it was mine. He touched my face..." She came back to reality. "That's it. I don't remember anything else. Just darkness."

"Alright." Elas drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as if trying to collect his thoughts. Then he spoke again, "You remembered correctly. Uncle Galahyn was there. He found you lying out on the field after the attack. There was so much blood and you were lying so still. He thought you were dead until you woke up for a second...I guess that must be what you remember...But you passed out again." Elas shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say next. "He healed you, Ashley. You were almost gone. I didn't think it was possible to bring someone back from the brink like that, but he did. Then I showed up. He told me to carry you back here. Back to the camp. Then the others found you a place to stay until you woke up."

Ashley nodded slowly, allowing what Elas had said to sink in. "Where is Galahyn now?"

Elas hesitated.

A cold feeling gripped Ashley's heart. "Elas...where is he? Where's Galahyn."

"He's in the tent next to this one. But Ashley, you need to know..."

Ashley didn't wait for him to finish. She jumped up from the cot she had been laying in, headache forgotten, and headed towards the exit.

"Ashley? Ashley!"

***********
Hmm, 584 words. I may have gotten a little carried away there. Anyway...

Question: How would your MC feel about taking Zumba classes to work out?