EXERCISE Plot Challenge: "I never said he was dead..."

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by Diana, Aug 27, 2013.

  1. PLOT CHALLENGE, hotpink
    A PLOT CHALLENGE is where you are given a word, a phrase, a sentence, or a setting and you have to come up with a plot idea that is inspired by those words!

    The object is to THINK FAST and share the first ideas that come to mind. It's an exercise in quick creative thinking. You can do this challenge any time. Or multiple times!

    To Participate: THINK FAST. Don't waste any time. The first idea(s) that comes to mind, write it down and post it! You are to write down a plot premise or basic idea. This isn't about writing scenes, this is about writing up a setting!

    NOTE: If you decide to borrow someone's concept for a roleplay, make sure you ask permission or give credit to the muse.

    Challenge Phrase: "I never said he was dead..."

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  2. Sol Date: 25 Unum, 2423.
    Location: Operations Room, Alpha Station, Satori Sector, Grid 3.
    Situation: Processing . . .

    They said the security was flawless, but it was not. They said the Dark Corps. could never enter, but they had. They said that no one would get hurt, but several already had.​

    In an age that was supposed to have conquered sickness and developed technology to fly among the stars, with a people who were supposed to know peace and have transcended all cultural misunderstanding, someone had made a grave mistake.​

    The Sol Alliance knew that the Adracot Empire had claimed the Satori sector, that they objected to the building of Alpha station in their space, so when they attacked while the station was still only three quarters finished nobody was surprised, but then, nobody was prepared either.​

    Ships were destroyed, people killed, key personnel went missing. They all knew there was a traitor in their midst. When Chief Commander Marcus Andredi disappeared so did their moral. No one had any spirit or strength left to fight back as the Adracot took control of Alpha station and stormed their way to the operations center.​

    Situation: Confirmed.
    Security Cameras: Accessed.
    Video: Streaming Now . . .

    Ten remaining station personal stand at consoles their hands placed before them away from any controls, their faces white.​

    At the other end of the room stand four figures dressed completely in black visors down on their helmets. Their leader also wears a black cloak, and he speaks, though his voice is masked by some sort of distorter that makes its tones several levels too deep. "Are you all prepared to face the consequences of defying the Adracot Empire?" despite the distortion it's easy to tell his voice is full of amusement. "Your Commander Andredi was not prepared," he laughs. "Imagine a man like him being broken. Imagine a man like him crying as he realizes exactly what's about to happen. Imagine a man like him struggling to decide whether or not he should take the deal his enemies offer him, or die."​

    "You'll pay for this!" one of the station personnel shouts. "We will avenge his death!"​

    But the leader only laughs harder. "I never said he was dead . . ." and with one black gloved hand he removes his mask.​

    Facial Recognition: Searching . . .
    Identity: Confirmed.
    Identity: Chief Commander Marcus Andredi.
    Mission: Escape Alpha Station and return to Sol Galaxy, Earth. If possible bring back Marcus Andredi . . . Dead or alive.
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  3. I never said he was dead. Those were words that would leave anyone either shocked or excited. For me, it only brought fear. We had spent months battling that bastard, trying to stop him and save ourselves. We thought we had finally won. Now this man, this nobody, was telling us we had failed. His words made me wonder. They could have so many meanings. Had they brought him back from the dead? Was he a mere spirit? Or was it something more?
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  4. I never said he was dead... just given a second chance.
    Mature Content and Language (open)

    I never said he was dead... just given a second chance.

    Keller awoke on the cold floor of his apartment, the beams of late-afternoon sun peering through the curtains on the windows, parsing through the soft clouds of cigarette smoke that drifted through the room. The only sensations he could process were the cold wood floors, the ringing in his ears, and the dull, throbbing pain in the back of his head.

    "Damn, bro. You took a way bigger hit than you could handle. You been out cold for like 30 minutes. I thought you were dead."

    Keller, still on his back, turned his head towards the voice and tried to focus on the speaker. As his mind slowly drifted back into consciousness, he registered the facial features and finally matched them to the voice that he recognized: his friend and partner-in-crime, Cortes. Keller groaned and propped himself up on his elbows, slowly pushing himself to sit upright. When he did, he noticed a tingling sensation in his left hand like it was about to go numb. It didn't take much inspection to locate the cause: the elastic band was still tied tight around his arm, and a needle was still sticking out of his forearm. Keller pulled the needle out angrily and untied the band.

    "Fuck, Cortes. Don't just let me pass out with the damn needle still in my arm. Jesus."

    Cortes' eyes were already starting to glass over as he began to slip into a haze from his own high. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Sssssorry about thaaaat. I couldn't... I waaasn't... yeah."

    Keller groaned as he got up onto his feet. His headache was getting worse; that was the problem of passing out during your high - no enjoyment, just the after-effects. He'd have to call his dealer for a resupply, but he knew he was short on the funds. Keller slid open a drawer and pulled out his 9mm pistol, stuffing it in his waistline and covering it up with his shirt.

    "I'll be right back, Cortes. I'mma go get rich real quick."

    His friend mumbled an incoherent response as Keller left to drive to a gas station several blocks away. He parked his car on a nearby residential street and walked hurriedly down the sidewalk, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head as he approached the gas station. Pushing open the doors, he burst into the station and immediately pulled the pistol, pointing it straight at the man working at the register. "Open the register! Give me everything that's inside right now, or you die!"

    The clerk didn't flinch. In fact, the look on his face was almost one of pity. Keller was baffled, but still determined. "Did you hear me, asshole? Open the goddamn---"

    "Freeze!" demanded an authoritative voice from behind him. In his rush to chase his next high, Keller had failed to notice a police officer getting coffee in the back area of the gas station. Angered and frustrated, Keller would not let anything get in his way. He whipped around to take aim at the officer, but the double-boom of two successive gunshots preceded him. The hot lead crashed violently into Keller's rib cage and abdomen; the next several moments seemed to proceed in excruciatingly slow motion.

    His vision of the interior of the gas station convenience store blurred; but layered over it, in painful clarity, were flashes from his life. The family he had let down and the friends he had let die, the happiness he had lost chasing the high that was his lust. Every agonizing detail was laid out right there before him, so vividly that the gas station itself had already faded to black. Only the memories remained.

    I messed up. I messed up really bad. Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry. Just... just give me another chance. Please.

    Now, even the visions had faded; even Keller had faded. Only the darkness remained.


    Keller awoke on the cold floor of his apartment, the beams of late-afternoon sun peering through the curtains on the windows, parsing through the soft clouds of cigarette smoke that drifted through the room. The only sensations he could process were the cold wood floors, the ringing in his ears, and the dull, throbbing pain in the back of his head.

    "Damn, bro. You took a way bigger hit than you could handle. You been out cold for like 30 minutes. I thought you were dead." The words seemed to have prophetic meaning now.

    Keller again propped himself up on his elbows, confused. "Yeah... Yeah, I did too."

    As the reality of the situation finally settled in, tears began to well in the young man's eyes. He looked to the man he knew as his only friend - the one friend he'd managed to keep for over ten years.

    "Cortes. I love you like a brother, man. But get out. Get out of my house, and never come back."

    Tears rolled down Keller's cheeks as he looked upwards. His eyes only saw the ceiling of the house; his soul saw far more. Thank you. Wherever you are, whoever you are. Thank you. I won't let you down.

    That was fun!
    #4 fatalrendezvous, Aug 29, 2013
    Last edited: Aug 29, 2013
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  5. It's never easy being a man of justice, when crime and avarice are rewarded more than good, honest deeds. It’s kind of poetic, really. People are all taught to be good people and to do our best in life, but to do their best, they have to win at the bad guys' own game. Become just as bad as they are. They have to sink to their level of brutality, their ways of tricking folks into spilling every little secret they've got. A lot of greenhorns’ll tell you otherwise, but when you’re stuck in the crime capital of the USA, there ain’t much choice.

    A lone detective questions a man in an alleyway, blood being washed away by the rain. He tightens his grip on the mob boss, his voice damaged by the cheap liquor and cigars he uses to escape the world. A snivelling man is pushed against a brick wall, to the sound of a threatening question.
    “I’ve got all night, buddy. Now tell me, where’s Smith? I haven’t got a bullet with your name on it, but my knuckles can have your blood if you don’t talk.”
    “F-fine! He’s in the graveyard!”
    “Graveyard?! Don’t play dumb, we both know he never died in October!”

    “I never said he was dead…”
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  6. "Here lies Joe Gotto. He was loved by all but one person and that's when things went down hill for him. You see, Joe made it his absolute lives goal to be liked by everyone he met. Everyone would always say, 'Gee, he's a swell guy,' or ask, 'How can that Joe be so darn likeable?!' It was only a matter of time before someone would reject his likeability. And the one person was a girl. A girl he was quite fond of, Mary Tulips. The most beautiful girl in town. They had all but one thing in common. She didn't like him. Poor Joe gave her his all. His happy handshake, his pleasant conversation, and his loyal respect. But she just didn't like him." The speaker sighed and started to get down from the podium when Mary pushed through the crowds to get to Joe, "Joe!! Joe!!" she yelled as she cried hysterically, "I don't like you because I love you!!!"

    Joe sat up, "You do?" his ears perked up and he grinned from ear to ear. Mary stopped in her tracks shocked, "Joe...I...I thought you were dead!"

    "I never said he was dead." The speaker said winking at the couple. Joe winked back.
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