Writing Explorations: Week 87, Bittersweet Symphony

[The Mood is Write]

My Writing Explorations series of exercises are a chance for users to explore new concepts and practice the art of raising two fingers to Writer's Block while screaming obscenities to fickle muses: to rebel against the idea that a person requires a mythical force inside them to make new and amazing things.

No. Listen well, users: there is no being inside you waiting to be let out. You are the writer, and in this exercise, you are given a place to push not only against Writer's Block, but also against the forces of stagnation. Feel trapped in your genre? Explore a new one! Stuck with a singular archetype? Do something else! In this thread, you will not be critiqued unless you request it. Should you wish it, I will happily offer my thoughts on how it might be improved, but I will not comb looking for fixes: this isn't the place: this place is for safely trying new things and indulging a love of writing.

Shake the bars of your cell block and roar, writers!

[fieldbox=How do I take part?]You can write to one or more (or none) of the prompts, the theme in the thread title, the bonuses—hell, you can even cast aside all of what I offer if you get a different idea.

The whole point is "get writing!"[/fieldbox]

Prompts:

1. Write the death of an antagonist at the hands of their love.
2. An immortal being bored by life hears a voice from their past, calling their secret nickname.
3. Happily ever after—until the epilogue reveals no change...

Bonus Rounds:

• Write in a random genre.
• Someone is a musician.
• The name Bob belongs to someone or something unexpected.

 

[PoetLore]

Comedy/Drama (Um yeah)

Carissa stared out over the valley blooming with wildflowers in a riot of spring colors gleaming int he bright sunlight and sighed. Another winter come and gone and giving way to spring...again. She glanced over at her reflection in the mirror and lifted her hands, "For what purpose? it will just all die and winter will blanket the whole thing in frozen shards. Seems a horrible waste of perfectly good seeds to me."

She used to keep track of how long she'd been alive, but ugh, after two or three thousand years what did one more matter? Nothing ever really changed, no one ever lived long enough to even be a fond memory anymore. Was it even worth it to try and find companionship for the few fleeting seconds they would be the same age physically? She closed her eyes and pouted. Opening them again and seeing her expression in the mirror she pointed a finger at herself, "No no no...you will not succumb to this." The pout was back, "BUT I AM SOOOO BORED!!!!" the pouting face shouted. The finger returned wiggling at her reflection, "Then get a hobby...build something...learn to paint."

She turned away from her reflection in a huff as the pout returned and she looked out at the valley. "It would be a lovely painting." She conceded, "But we both know I have the artistic abilities of a buffalo."

She glanced to her left at a rock with a horribly lop sided excuse for a face and grimaced, "As Bob here is ample proof." The pout returned full force and her chin rested on her hands.

As she watched the wind gently ruffle the petals of the flowers below she realized something odd. Though the window was open, it was eerily quiet. No birds were singing, no insects were chirping. The breeze made a very soft whoosh but otherwise ti was quiet. That's when she heard it. "Rissy..."

Her head popped up instantly. No one called her that anymore. She'd not allowed it. Who even KNEW of it? And how did they get into her castle? Well, it wasn't exactly a castle, more like an elaborate treehouse, but it was hers and she called it a castle. "Who's there?"

"Rissy...."

"Who's there?"

"Rissy..."

"Oh bother..." she groaned and stood from her perch at the window and listened as the single word drifted to her ears. She attempted to follow where it led, but found herself moving about in a circle utterly confused. "Hey!...How about you come to me? I can't seem to find you...."

"Rissy..."

Crossing her arms over her chest she huffed, "I am not moving one step, so you might as well show yourself because I am NOT coming to find you. Did you hear me? I SAID..I am NOT coming to find you!

"Rissy..."

"AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Rissy..."

"Lalala...lalala...lalala....lalala...I caaaan't heeeeaaar yoooouuu...lalalalala.."

"Rissy..."

After an hour of this Carissa was about to go mad. She went over to her mirror and pointed a finger at herself, "See what you did? You HAD to say you were bored now look what happened!"

Her reflection just smiled, though she was not smiling. She straightened and blinked but the reflection just smiled. "Wait...what's going on?"

"Remember when we were Rissy? We were never bored then..."

"Hold on a minute...we?" she asked realizing the reflection was not actually a reflection but was moving on its own. "It's finally happened. I have snapped the last twig of my sanity. Poof, it's gone. Now I'm going to be an insane immortal. THAT'S JUST GREAT!"

The reflection chuckled, "You have always been a bit crazy, nothing wrong with that. Let's go back to being Rissy...remember how much fun it was to be carefree and happy. Let's go..."

Carissa frowned, "Rissy had fun but everyone Rissy loved is dead now...that is not fun. Don't you remember that?"

The reflection shook it's head, "No..I just remember the fun."

Carissa sighed, "You would. Well..I remember the rest and I don't want to go through that again."

"You just have to find another immortal..."

"Oh sure..I'll just dial 1-800-IMMORTL and find one lickety split."

"There has to be one or two out there...maybe more."

"Well hidden if there is."

"It will be a grand adventure, just think of it. An end to your boredom and a possible life to share with someone who will never die."

"You make a fine point there...beats staring at blooming flowers again. You don't suppose there IS a 1-800-IMMORTL thing or maybe a secret website even?"

"Never know..could be...GO SEE!"

"Yeah yeah..I'm going...bossy brat." She pointed a finger at her reflection and it was once more her reflection and she shrugged and kissed Bob for luck as she stepped out the door and into the sunlight.

 

[Starlighter]

This is so perfect to help develop a novel character of mine ahhhhh it just fits so perfectly, thank you Moody!

I once heard a man entirely too absorbed in his own mind say that the world is too large and complex to ever allow for boredom, for if one truly applies oneself to the discerning of knowledge, their years could never be enough to understand the whole of it.

At first I took comfort in the words of a man I deemed wiser than myself.

I realized within two hundred years that he was an idiot.

First of all, for an immortal life such as my own, there is arguably quite enough time to learn everything there is to know in the world. I find it unlikely that anyone could muster the mental capacity to retain it all, however, and to be quite honest, there are plenty of things that are simply not worth knowing.

Secondly, boredom can come all too easily. While for the majority of my life I did manage to find things worth doing, I eventually tired of it all. Despite my creativity in regards to finding something to occupy my time, there was always more of it, always an end to how long a distraction could last. Even conquering the world and dictating it thereafter only took a sliver of my time compared to the whole of it - and I must confess, running the world and doing it well is a very dull and stressful task that in retrospect, I would not recommend.

I was never sure if I started hearing her voice out of insanity, loneliness, or boredom. Perhaps all three; it would make sense, after all.

Rias! Rias!

I always imagined that she was laughing, but I never heard the sound. Perhaps it was simply because I couldn't remember what her laugh sounded like after so many centuries, when she had done it so seldom. I missed it. I missed her. The one thing I would have brought back from my first life, would have wanted to stay with me for the eternal torment I was forced to live through, yet could never retrieve. I suppose that was why I didn't mind it, listening to her talk to me knowing it wasn't real and that even if I answered her incessant calling of a name only she had used for me, there would be no response from her.

Rias....

For years, that was all she ever said, just that name. I would close my eyes and listen to it, repeating over and over almost as endlessly as my life seemed to be, until something dull would finally distract me long enough to stop hearing it.

Then, my sister's voice spoke to me in earnest, calling her unique name for me, and then quietly whispering something else.

It's not for me to repeat it here for history to record, but know this: tomorrow will be, at last, my final day, and the words of my centuries dead sister, the only soul whom I have ever truly loved, will have been the death of me.

 

[The Mood is Write]

@Starlighter
Whoa. You really sucked me in, there! I ended up leaning really close to my screen. Nice job!

 

[Turtle of Doom]

Leandra stared at the bear in front of her. It was an old, beat up teddy bear. One eye was missing, it's nose was scuffed and the mouth had long since vanished. The faux fur was matted and tangled. Lifting it up by one arm she sighed and tossed it back onto her bed before following its trajectory and tossing herself on the mattress as well. She was bored, so bored. Nothing felt right. A sigh fell from her lips as she stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Missy."

The word was whispered in the back of her mind. She almost thought she was imagining things, but then there it was again.

"Missy."

Nobody had called her Missy in years, not since her grandpa had passed onto the next plane of existence. Leandra had grown tired of this plane herself, but the not knowing what was next made her hesitate.

"Missy."

There it was again, whispered in the back of her mind. It was barely audible but it was there. Leandra sat up in the bed and looked around.

"Whose there?" she called out looking in every corner of the room, but not seeing anything.

"It's time, Missy."

A shiver passed over her. It wasn't time. It wasn't anywhere close to time. She had lived, sure, but she hadn't... she hadn't truly used the time wisely. She hadn't allowed herself to live. Centuries of life, and Leandra felt as though she hadn't truly lived. She had spent the first part of her life in fear, and the second half of her life she had lived in relative contentment, but what was the purpose of being content if she never experienced anything new. The next plane couldn't be ready for her already.

"Missy... It is time."

"No it's not!" She couldn't help but to answer this time. It wasn't time. It just wasn't.

The voice shut up, and Leandra crossed her arms with a huff. "It's not time," she told herself again.

She cleared her throat and grabbed Bob the bear back off the bed, squeezing him to her chest and burying her face in his matted fur. She sniffled and thought of all the things she hadn't done. She had missed out on so much. It was all for nothing. She thought of all the missed opportunities. The fact that she'd never had a family. She never had so much as a date. Others made her nervous. She had grown used to being alone over the centuries, but that didn't mean that she didn't regret being that way.

"It's too late, Missy." It was the voice again.

Tears welled up in Leandra's eyes. It wasn't time. It wasn't too late. She stood up, lifting herself off the bed and throwing the bear back against the pillows. "It's not too late!" she screamed into the empty room.

And as she stood a brilliant light shone directly in her eyes, knocking her back a couple of steps. Her breath caught in her throat. "No," she whispered.

"Missy, let's go." This time the voice came from inside the light.

She fell backwards, landing on her rear and scrambling back on her hands and feet. "Nononono." The words tumbled out of her mouth so fast that it sounded as if it was one word.

A hand came down on her shoulder and as she looked up, the blurry image of her grandfather appeared in her tear-clouded vision. "Missy..." His hand was firm on her shoulder as he shook her to her senses. "It's time now."

Leandra couldn't move. His hand guided her to her feet, and firmly shoved her into the light. The blinding flash of light was the last thing she saw.

 

[The Mood is Write]

@Turtle of Doom
Ooh. Poor Leandra! I feel for her, especially with her teddy bear! Nice emotional writing!

 

[Doctor Jax]

"You!" Bourdieux spluttered, the arrow seeming to grow out of an old wound in his shoulder. He sat against the church altar and stared in amazement, before laughing.

"You actually did it. I didn't think you would," he coughed, touching the arrow that had struck him where the Demiurge had struck him years before. "Tell me - did Armen make it? Did he manage to speak to that which can't hear?"

"You always did like to listen to yourself talk," Lilian sang, bending down to his level and offering him a cigarette. He hesitated before picking one, deciding it couldn't really do him much more harm.

"How long do I have, love?" Bourdieux asked, and Lillian remained squatting before him, arms hung against her knees. The two smoked in the dimly lit church, the light of their cigarettes softly illuminating their faces.

"Probably ten minutes, maybe more. The Demiurge's Unreal will have started leaching, I think, by then," Lillian muttered, the freckles around her green eyes seeming to twitch as she squinted her eyes at him. "Does it hurt?"

"No, actually, not much. It's more... numb," Bourdieux admitted. Indeed, there was a strange sort of unraveling turning his shoulder into string, as if he were a yarn doll coming apart. "What made you change your mind?"

"If you had decided to lure the Demiurge here, we would have wasted our shot," Lillian stated. "You would have commenced the ritual, been Unraveled, reabsorbed--"

"The lesser of two evils. Killing me. What if I was right?"

"Trust me. I'm pretty sure you're nuts."

"Only for you, Lil."

Lillian smiled and hung her head, shaking it. For all his misguided and low brow attempts to control and cajole a being which defied reality, it was only that sort of brashness which could summon a twinge of hurt behind her eyes as she looked up at the rapidly dissolving man. She reached forward and stroked his face, who leaned his cheek into her palm. Her smile slowly disappeared as he looked up into her eyes.

"I could have made another world for us, if you would have just said the word," he murmured to her, kissing her palm. "But I was always a realist at heart. I hope you are right, Lillian, and I'm glad, of them all, Armen sent you."

A tear welled in Lillian's eye, Bourdieux able to see his rapidly disintegrating reflection as the dissolution crept up his neck.

"Don't look away from me," he pleaded. "I want a beautiful thought in my head."

Lillian forced herself to keep his gaze as his face fell, a line at a time, until at last there was only a mess of string in her hand. She stood up and dusted her hands off, leaving the church behind.