Writing Prompt

Writing Prompt

Some time ago you have adopted a habit to don a disguise and spy on your subjects incognito. One things have led to another, and tonight you, as a head of the Revolution, is supposed to lead an attack on the palace and depose the ruthless tyrant, i.e. also you.

Tag responses with #wordsnstuff // Ko-Fi

I had a dream last night I was in a high-rise in Chicago and any time I went to a different floor I was still on that floor but in a different year. I could only travel through time into years when the building existed, so I could go back in time about 70 years, but there were enough floors that it was taking me forever to find 2018 again. I eventually ran into some girls who recognized me as a time traveler and they told me there was a man in the building that knew about all of this and could probably direct me to the right floor but I needed to find him at a specific age so I kept running into him on different floors and different years and trying to figure out if he knew what to DO yet

Some fractured fairy tale ideas...

- Cinderella went to the ball to kill the prince.

- “All hail Alice, the Queen of Hearts.”

- Rapunzel is the witch’s illegitimate daughter, and she is being kept safe from a king who would have her killed on sight.

- The Little Match Girl is a now phantom luring people to their deaths.

- Little Red Riding Hood is a werewolf.

- “So… You’re the Pied Piper, eh? I thought you’d be taller.”

- Princess Snow White and the evil Snow Queen? One and the same.

- “If you value your life, my life, the lives of everyone in this city… you won’t wake the sleeping princess.”

- The land of the Twelve Dancing Princesses is falling apart at the seams, and the rest of reality with it.

- A witch who made some bad decisions in her youth is forced to adopt and raise a child.

- After Jack the Giant Killer ruthlessly murdered their king and threw their world into turmoil and war, the inhabitants of the Sky Kingdom must rebuild their lives.

- “What… what is it?” “A firebird – the last of her kind.”

ARTIST PATTON!

Hear me out, we know he’s not that experienced at drawing figural stuff yet but what if he’s actually pretty great with abstract art? Mixing colors, applying them in unique and interesting ways, creating all sorts of shapes, and using different matierals; expressing his emotions through them. Just. Artist Patton.

When you start to stir this morning, you cant help but wonder if you’re having a particularly odd dream, the stats hovering behind your eyelids, making that the only real conclusion. Opening your eyes and blinking a few times, you frown in confusion. Hanging before you in the air, are the same set of stats you could see with your eyes closed. They seem to be gaming stats of some sort, something that confuses you since, whilst you enjoy them, you rarely get the time to play them anymore, so you generally don’t dream about them. Sitting up in bed, you find the stats following you easily, somehow not obscuring your vision. You’re still convinced this might be some kind of weird dream, despite the cold slowly seeping into your feet, now that they are touching the floor. With a sigh, you try to pay attention to the stats again, deciding that you may as well fuck around with them, since its just a dream. 

Over the course of the morning, you mess with all of your stats, finding you can move them around with a brief thought. To your surprise, and delight, they seem to work, but as the day wears on, you start to realise that this might not be a dream after all. 

As you sit there, absently using your increased strength to open that jar you’ve been trying to crack into all week, you contemplate what this might mean for you. Is it permanent? How far reaching can you make this? What will you do with this kind of power? Already you’ve used your charisma to convince the crabby old landlord to give you a few more days to pay rent, a usually impossible task. You’ve used your luck and found a hundred dollars stuck in a hedge outside, and you used your intelligence stats to finish the essay that you had been stuck on all week, because you forgot all the subject matter. Luckily, no one else seems to see the small window of stats. You even figured out how to make the little window fold away to one side, almost invisible, if you weren’t already aware it was there.

A soft hiss of air interrupts your thoughts, the jar opening with surprising ease. Suddenly, your stats glow brightly the numbers increasing on each and the small letters above the stats finally draw your eyes up,something you hadn’t really paid attention to until now. You watch as the simple “Level: 1″ slowly shifts to “Level: 2″, and it dawns on you that this might just be the beginning. 

As you stepped out onto your front porch, huffing at how bright the early morning sun was, you paused. Sitting on your front step was a large parcel, addressed to you. You couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps you had a new mailman, as the usual one refused to make the difficult trip up your drive to deliver anything, instead leaving it at the entrance to your driveway, in the drop box. Not that you blamed him. It was funny that you hadn’t heard the truck though.

Letting out a thoughtful hum, you set down your mug and fished around in your hoodie pockets, pulling out a knife and starting to cut it open, while trying to figure out what it was you had ordered. You couldn’t remember ordering anything lately, and no one ever sent you things. Maybe you had just forgotten?

A childish cheer escaped you as you managed to undo the box, opening it up and poking around. All joy faded swiftly as you saw what was inside, anxiety and confusion taking its place. You knew exactly what those jewels were, how couldn’t you? They were all over the news. Everyone was freaking out about the impossible theft.

Shakily you looked at the top of the box again, shivering as you saw that it really was addressed to you. Why you?