Twisting Color Association- PINK

noodle

Accidental Pyromaniac
Original poster
DONATING MEMBER
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. 1-3 posts per day
  3. One post per day
  4. Multiple posts per week
  5. 1-3 posts per week
  6. One post per week
Online Availability
Depends on how crazy my life is at any given moment, but I'm usually online- at least for OOC purposes- at least once a day.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Medieval Fantasy, SciFi, Modern/Superhero, Dystopian
Color is a powerful tool in writing. Proper description and hints at the coloring of settings and objects- and yes, even people- can set the scene with emotions that the writer wishes to convey. The proper combinations of colors can warn of impending disaster, show a character slipping into depression, or finish off a happy ending with a nice little bow.

The most common example of color association is black and white- black is often associated with night, darkness...evil, if you will. And on the opposite side of the spectrum, there is white. White is usually shown as being light, hope, and on the side of good.

So what is the purpose of this exercise series?

I want you to take a color that I give you...and twist it. I want you to take the common feeling of a color, weave it into your writing, and then shatter the preconception of what we thought it was. I want you to make an evil color good, and a good color evil. I want love to turn to hatred, and hatred to love.

...I'm sure you get the point.

RULES:
The most important rule to remember is that there are no rules. The only thing you have to do is twist the association!

Post length- anything!

Setting, genre, style- anything!

Wanna write a poem? Sure. One sentence? Sure. A novel will be fine if that's what you wanna do.

Really, the only thing I ask is that you (a: twist the association and (b: tell me if you don't want me to give your writing a review.

pink
Today's color is: PINK
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Pink is often associated with sweetness and niceness, as well as being playful, cute, romantic, charming, feminine, and tender.


Happy writing, folks!

divider by @Quincunx
 
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"Shitshisthishishit" Running in ankle deep mud amidst the raining jungle was no easy feat, but Jonathan was scoring. He could hardly see where he was going - all was a blurry motion of black and green and brown in front of his eyes; Jonathan could trip at any root, any vine - he'd be no better than a deadman than - but occasional lightning showed the way, and thunder gave the spring. Jonathan thanked god for lighting.

Obscure thoughts were crossing his mind in this dire moment, like a memory of how Brat was convincing him a payed trip to the Africa in the name of Her Majesty is not such a bad idea. "C'mon you jolly good friend! What good you are rotting in the university? We need brilliant people like yourself in the field! No more danger then being bit by mosquitoe."... Yeah, right. Brat knew better now. Brat was dead. And the thing that killed him was ripped much more than the simple bug. It was not as fast as Jonathan, at least. He will never forget the image of it sitting in their tent, with Brat in it's mouth. And to think that Jonathan was away for only ten minutes...

Distant thunder lit the jungle. There! Down the slope, between two mossy boulders, a cave. All better than running forever, thought the panting man. Quickly, he crossed the distance and hid in entrance. Now he could rest his breath. Wait a little, and than.. what? Priorities: he must survive and tell the men of the man eating monstrosity. They will prepare the raid, scout the jungle and execute the thing at once, they will avenge Brat! Tears rolled down Jonathan's face. Brat... Good old Brat.. How will he look Molly in the eyes? How will she ever forgive him?..

Another lighting hit the ground. The cave brightened for a moment, banishing the shadows from the distant wall. Jonathan blinked. The wall was completely pink, covered in something like featheres top to bottom. It must be some kind of leaves of
unknown plant. Professional botanic kicked in, and Jonathan approached the wall in the darkness that followed. It will strike soon again, and then he'll take a closer look at it.

Jonathan stood motionless. The heavy rain was storming outside, and here, in the cave, his heartbeat was finally retracting to the calm pace. Amazing how professionals can retain their relentlessly honed skills even under the most severe pressure. Jonathan's mind was imagining what family he would attach his founding, how he would name it, what grands can he expect, how would his academic adversaries react. In other words, his PhD was saving him from the insanity of his immediate surroundings.

Light entered cave yet again. Then Jonathan froze. He understood. They were no feathers - far from it - the wall was covered in human pinkies. Jonathan stumbled back. Then, a shadow of a familiar silhouette grew on the wall. Something touched his pinky.
 
Gretchen smoothed down her skirt and then reached for the door handle. Taking a deep breath she entered the building and smiled at the secretary seated at a large welcome desk. "Hello I am Gretchen Anders. I have an in.."

"Oh yes, an interview." She said with a bored plastered smile on her face. Handing Gretchen a clip board with forms attached, "Have a seat over there and answer all the questions, front and back. Someone will be right with you." She didn't even look at Gretchen as she spoke the memorized recitation.

"Oh. Thank you." Or no, she thought ungenerously. It had been a while since she'd encountered someone so rude. Shrugging she made her way to the waiting are and sat down to fill in the forms. The questions were odd, but she answered them. What difference did it make if she was afraid of cotton candy? Or marshmallows? Was someone going to try to kill her with sugar? A soft giggle escaped before she contained it and went back to answering the rather extensive list of random questions.

A large brooding woman opened the door and cleared her throat, "Gretchen Anders."

"Yes, I am here." she replied eagerly as she stood and extended her hand.

The woman looked at it and lifted a brow, "This way."

Gretchen was starting to think everyone here woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. She had the nearly overwhelming desire to break into song and cheer them all up, but she managed to retrain herself from doing so...barely. She followed the woman down a long hallway and entered the room she indicated. She stepped inside and sat down. Everything in the room was white. All the walls, every piece of furniture and every fixture. She looked around expecting some variation of color in something, but no such luck. How odd, she thought to herself.

It wasn't long before a man, dressed entirely in white entered the room. Even his hair was white and his skin was bleached, or possibly he was wearing make-up, but he was as white as everything else in the room. He even wore contacts that make his entire eye look white. At first she was thinking he might be blind, but that obviously not the case since he was looking at a paper and writing on it. At length he looked up at her, "So, I have finished analyzing your answers to the questionnaire, and I believe you might be able to work for us."

Gretchen watched quietly. This was the weirdest interview she'd ever been to and it was starting to freak her out a bit. She really needed this job though, so she sat trying not to fidget. When he finally spoke her eyes moved to his but the odd white color was hard to look at so she focused on his nose instead. "That's wonderful. I can start immediately."

The edge of his lips curled imperceptibly and he extended a hand, "Immediately? As in right now? Or tomorrow?"

Gretchen shook his hand and blinked, "Right now, if you can use me." She didn't want to sound desperate, but it was hard not to when you were fighting to survive.

"Wait right here," he instructed, "We will consider this part of your interview. If you can manage Emelia then you can manage anyone here."

Gretchen sat back down and watched as he left. Emelia was a lovely name, and she pictured a beautiful little bright eyed child. In a few moments, just such a child entered. Bright blue eyes, yellow curls spilling about her face with a bright pink bow holding it back from her eyes. In fact, everything the child wore was pink even her socks and shoes. Interesting.

Emelia looked at her and squinted a bit. "Why aren't you wearing pink?"

Gretchen lifted a brow looking at her professional attire. "I was trying to look capable for my interview," she explained, "Don't you like it?"

"It is not pink."

"No, it's blue. I like blue."

"I do NOT like blue"

"I'm sorry. I don't actually think I own any pink suits."

The child advanced a step closer, "I don't like blue."

Gretchen frowned, "You said that. how about we play a game?"

Emelia took another step closer. "I can't play with you."

"Why not?"

The child looked exasperated, "You are blue, not pink." As if that made everything crystal clear, the child stared at her advancing another step closer.

"I'm afraid I don't understand why the color of my clothing means we cannot play," Gretchen said reasonably, "I'd like to be your friend."

Emelia was standing close enough to touch her now. "You are not Pink." She said and reached out her hand. The door burst open but it was already too late. The tiny fingers had touched her face and instantly there was a solid covering around her skin. It was pink and viscous but felt like elastic plastic.

Gretchen moved trying to claw at it, but she could not poke through it. She could get no air into her lungs, and the pink membrane seemed to pull further into her throat withe very attempt to breathe. She tried to scream but no sound could be formed. Finally she slumped in the chair and Emelia looked at the man in all white. "She was not Pink....I saved her."
 
  • Nice Execution!
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