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Friday, October 9, 2015

A Friday Prompt

Shannon Dittemore is the author of the Angel Eyes trilogy. She has an overactive imagination and a passion for truth. Her lifelong journey to combine the two is responsible for a stint at Portland Bible College, performances with local theater companies, and a love of all things literary. When she isn’t writing, she spends her days with her husband, Matt, imagining things unseen and chasing their two children around their home in Northern California. To connect with Shan, check out her website, FB, Twitter, Instagram, or Pinterest.

Happy Friday, friends! Since we've had such a great response to the writing prompts and since I just wrapped up my series on Suspending Disbelief, I thought it was high time we all wrote a little something. Whatcha think? Want to write with me?

Here's how it works: I'll give you a few sentences to get you started and then YOU follow up with five or six sentences in the comments section. Keep it clean, friends, and be sure to come back throughout the weekend to read and encourage the other teen writers giving this whole Friday Prompt thing a go.

66 comments:

  1. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be a magic. Those little orbs of glowing energy attacked anything that entered their territory, slashing and burning until the victim was eaten up with light.

    And she was on the edge of their domain.

    The sword was supposed to fend off the magics. She could only hope it would be true.

    She approached the line, dead leaves crunching under her snow boots. Then, with a deep breath, she stepped over.

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    1. This is so cool! I love the fear of the magics. I'd be interested in learning more about them...and will the sword keep them away? Hm...

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    2. Thank you!

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  2. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one think could leave a mark like that. It had to be the bite of a arrow--her brother's arrow. Athena roared into the night. "I am not your toy."
    If Apollo heard, he didn't bother to reply.
    "I am not, was not, will never be. Now leave before my bow is drawn. It would be quite humiliating for the archer god to be slain by an arrow."

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    1. I l love this one. Love it so much.

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    2. Ack! Typo in that comment. Sorry!

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    3. Fabulous job! Way to work the mythology in.

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    4. I love anything with mythology and this is great. Awesome job!

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  3. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be a slash from a phoenix's talons. The thing that had attacked her, the Bird of Light...

    The name carried a proud ring, but the liquid light in those claws would seep into a victim's system, contaminating the blood, twisting and contorting until the hapless human gained otherworldly abilities--or deformities. A sane person would not wish for either.

    Katiya let her sword fall with a dull thump onto the forest floor. So this was what Varleena had meant, the plan she had boasted of, to get Katiya out of the line of succession. Already the blood tingled in her veins. A shudder broke free, and she sagged with her back against the nearest oak.

    She could only wait with awful anticipation for what the morning would reveal.

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  4. So... Is it alright to change the sentence a bit? Add a name, or an extra bit of description...?

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    1. Usually it's fine to add a name, but the description comes later.

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    2. Yeah... But I would generally add description right after the glowing is mentioned, since "Only one thing could leave a mark like that." changes what you're talking about.

      I guess I'll just change it, since it's not an official contest anyway, just a writing exercise. :-P

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  5. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be some of her brother's trickery.
    Katrina snarled, and slashed again at the strange little creatures, making them jump back and screech in laughter. Now that she knew what to look for, the deformed sprites, or whatever they were, had Kalen's signature practically scrawled across their faces...literally, in some cases. She could barely see the three dark blue lines running from their jaws to their eyebrows, the shadows were so thick, but they were there.
    Kalen must have been the one stalking her. it figured, of course. He'd be wanting it back. But did he really want it back so badly he'd send his monsters after her?

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    1. I like this very much! The idea of someone's signature literally being on their creations' faces is both humorous and eerie at the same time... very original.

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  6. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be... oh, how could she have been so stupid? She curled her free hand up, mimicking the lines of her mouth, and sighed in relief as the fire coiled into existence.
    The sword was trembling in her hand but now it steadied and pointed towards the sky.
    "I know you're there," she mumbled under her breath, and let the fire go, watching as it shot up and exited the atmosphere. Sure enough, not more than a second had passed before another stream of fire fell down, rushing so fast that she had to really work to focus her eyes in order to see it properly.
    Her hand curled up again, gathering the fire to fight this off, and her wound hurt so much more now that the flame that caused it was coming closer, and she just shook her head and concentrated, and concentrated, and--
    "Noa!"
    She snapped her head around and her eyes locked with his.
    The fireball catapulted itself on to her and she barely even felt the heat as it spread into her wound, consuming her.

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  7. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be her imagination.
    Darn it, she screamed at herself silently. She could hardly believe she was letting the creature get in her head, affect her again. She squinted as she stared into the blinding red eyes, but took another step forward. The creature hardened its glare at her arm, and it glowed brighter, but now she knew how to escape the illusion. The wound that wasn't there wouldn't hurt her, try as her opponent might to use its magic to fool her into thinking it was real.
    She released a pent-up growl and lunged forward, her sword raised high.

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  8. She hefted sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. She started to laugh. The glowing indicated the presence of the poison known as Death glow. The light came from the one plant that could contain magic strong enough to kill.
    "You don't know," She told her adversary.
    "Don't know what?" He asked warily.
    "No poison capable of death works on my kind. Until the date decreed for us, we are deathless. Run, now while you still have a chance," She answered him.

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    1. Oooo! Very interesting. Death glow. I like that.

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    2. Clever. Makes me curious about the deathless part.

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  9. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be the Shadow-stealer's claw. She had barely felt it break the skin, but in that one instant that monster had inflicted the death blow. Nothing could survive that wound.
    As she watched, though, it glowed brighter. Her sword shone with the same orange light, and she felt stronger for it. Before her astonished eyes, the wound healed over. The enchanted sword really worked!
    She turned back to the Shadow-stealer in front of her. It seemed to be waiting for her to fall dead. She smiled grimly and took a step forward. "All right, monster," she said. "Time for round two."

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  10. Wahoo! I'm getting ready to dive into these, but let me tell you . . . Fridays are my crazy day. I go from one thing to the next ALL DAY LONG and when I finally get to sit down and check on you all, it is such fun when there are oodles of things for me to read here! So yay you! AND KEEP 'EM COMING!

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  11. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound in her left arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be the work of the might Sword of Nibis. Finally, after searching for nearly a decade, she has finally found the sword. Just as she was about to celebrate her victory, a loud moan from behind her made her froze. Examining her sword, her worst fear was confirmed: the Dark Master was still alive. Gathering her courage she whirled around to face the very man who made her life like hell...the man who killed her brother and enslaved her lover.
    "Hello, Father," she said, "I see you that you have survived the hex. Ready for round two?"

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    1. Intriguing....why would her father do such things?

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    2. Talk about your screwed up family!

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  12. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. I had to be Ethan's sword. How could he? He was using invisibility to attack his own sister. Ella felt tears form in her eyes. She blinked them away. No time for crying, she had stopped caring about Ethan a long time ago.
    Ella looked across the hill to see Ethan waving at her. He was wearing their father's old armor, and he seemed to be grinning at her. Ella's resolve hardened. She should have stopped considering Ethan her brother the minute she saw him attack the castle. The young girl took a deep breath and called out the order.
    "Charge!"

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  13. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be a dagger. Iselle bit her lip, trying her hardest to ignore the pain from her arm. She knew she would have to bandage her arm soon or else the glow of her elven blood would make her an easy target for them. Iselle listened for a moment, straining to hear the sound of their approach in the darkness. Nothing. Satisfied, she quickly sheathed her sword and grabbed her pack, franticly searching around for a bandage, right before they attacked.

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    1. Ooooh! I like the fact that SHE is the cause for the glowing, rather than it coming from her attacker. Unique.

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  14. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. The eyes of the beast who had torn her flesh glowed with the same angry red as it faced her. She well remembered the screams of those it had wounded before as they died in madness and agony. She had held her own brother and wept as he clawed at the air in combat with a phantasm only he could see. None had ever survived such a wound. Yet even as the same poison raced through her blood, she defiantly faced down the beast and the fear and horror it inspired. Only one of them would survive this night.

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  15. She hefted the sword a little higher, the would on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be . . . . him.
    The beast...it hadn't been real. Merely a trick of light and magic. And the wound--that, too, was simply an illusion. Already, the gash in her arm was fading. There was a flicker of gold light, and it was gone.
    "April?" Heather frowned. "What--"
    "He's here." April's fingers tightened on the hilt of her blade.
    "So you think . . ."
    "Yeah. Both of them."
    "Okay . . . ?" Heather glanced at April, hesitant. "Head for the Paths, or what?"
    "We're not close enough." April shook her head. "Can't get out of here in time. We'll just have to hope Nick and Orion make it here in time. And Zoe . . . hopefully she pulled it off."
    "She'll be fine."
    April nodded, though she didn't really believe that.
    The forest was still for a moment. Completely silent.
    Then a roar echoed through the woods, and a tremor shook the earth. The trees swayed and trembled, branches crashing to earth.
    And from the ground before them, a monster rose.

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  16. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be the brand of the Keepers of the Irispit.
    Athalia paused, twisting her arm to examine the wound one more time. It hurt like a burn. The flesh raised into iridescent red welts, clearly shaped as a pentagon with three slashing lines across it.
    Legend had it that the Keepers marked everyone who entered their territory, using one of two symbols. One symbol meant that you would die within 24 hours and the other granted you long life.
    Athalia had never seen either symbol. She hoped the one on her arm was the second option.

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  17. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. Only one thing could pierce her skin.

    The beast was back.

    She waited for the group to round the bend ahead, and knelt down. Setting down her sword, she quickly tore off a strip of her shirt to tie up the deep cut.

    Her mind was racing, she had thought she destroyed the beast in the fire. She had been wrong.

    This meant she'd have to be on the look out for the invisible beast, night and day. She wondered where it was now, it could be anywhere, if it cut her and one of her companions saw....

    She finished tying her wound quickly. She couldn't let anyone see that her blood glowed. Not anyone.

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    1. Very interesting! She's not completely human, is she?

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    2. Oops! I thought I was being original about her blood, but then I finished reading and I saw that was Anonymous 7:15's idea (hehe ...sorry)

      And, yeah, I was thinking alien.

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    3. It's okay. I like your invisible beast idea. Very cool.
      -7:15

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  18. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be the Mysarinde. A sickness that was only now making its presence known, the glowing slash on her arm the first fragile leer.

    The sword crashed into the floor, the impact booming softly in her ears. How long? All she could wonder. How long?

    "Via? You okay?"

    No. She wasn't.

    She knew the signs. She knew what came first, then after, then...

    First, you lost your mind.

    To herself, she repeated: I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not

    "Via?"

    Then you pupils would swell. You lost your sight.

    And finally, finally, finally, you lost your very self.

    "They'll be coming now," she whispered. "Just like they come for everyone like me."

    The Mysarinde wasn't like other sicknesses. The victim didn't become helpless--rather they became stronger, and they could be influenced. The right person could whisper in their ear, changing the landscape of their hallucinations as they saw fit. And in that manner, the invalid would become no more human than a puppet. A monster to be controlled.

    And it all began with the light.

    "Please, Via, what's wrong?"

    She didn't know what to say.

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    1. Oh my god, this is awesome. Completely, min-blowingly brilliant. And I know min-blowingly is not a word, but it should be, because that's what this is. So. Awesome.

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    2. Sorry about the typos, my keyboard is dying and doesn't like the letter D anymore. If I don't pound it hard, it's left off. Sorry.

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  19. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be the hydra; the pieces all clicked together now- the multiple voices, the strange reluctance it had to attack, and, of course, the horns. Ella stared into the darkness of the woods contemplating her next move; should she attack, stay put and wait for Abby, or drop the sword and try for the friendly approach. Like that’s going to work after I just tried to kill it...

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  20. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be… but, no. She shook her head, trying to clear the ridiculous idea out of her brain, but it stayed latched onto her cranium like a leech. She had heard the stories, of course, everyone had. The day your soulmate brushed your skin, a piece of your Light would burst to the surface in an effort to join with the Light of your significant other. Life really did hate her. Why else would the boy who had compelled her Light to jump be the boy she had sought for years to kill?

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  21. Okay, this is my second one for this prompt, but it was just so much fun!!! Here goes....
    ~
    She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be...

    "Oh, you're freaking kidding me," she said. The sword slid from her limp fingers, and landed on the wet ground with a thump. She gently palpated the wound. The dirk had only broken the skin; she would be fine. "Yeta, did you do this?"

    The campsite, although wet, was clean and somewhat homely. The tent was tucked away under the thickest cluster of trees, and smoke curled up from the damp fire. The bodies of three large men, all dressed in the traditional black robes of Ratchett's Hosts, were strewn about the area. It was clear none of them were alive.

    Evelin swallowed away her nausea, and turned away to stare at the cat. "Yeta. Did you do this?"

    The familiar stared at her, his large gold eyes unblinking and innocent, just as they had been the night they'd been forced to flee Ratchett in the first place.

    "Yeta, if this was you, I swear I'm going right back to that batty old witch and telling her she can keep you."

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  22. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be … Fear wrung her heart like a damp towel. She had held her two infants as they succumbed to the Silver Death. Watched as their animals solidified then toppled over like granite statues because of the curse. Now, it seemed it was her turn.
    Already her hand was stiffening. The sword fell, clattering on the rocky earth. Seconds later, she fell after it. Above her, the winged bat-like creature who had inflicted the wound squealed in delight. Its master would be pleased, she knew.
    “Ray.” The whisper fluttered from her hardening lips. Where was he?
    As if in answer, she heard his cry. “Joann!”
    He fell by her side, weeping. The winged poison beast swooped down. Ray leaped to his feet swinging his sword. The creature cackled again, and Ray shook his fist. “Lift this curse from me! Have you not taken enough!”
    Joann moaned, her lips trying to form words. “I love you.”
    Forgetting his rage, Ray slipped his arm under her rigid neck. Joann wheezed as her lungs refused to fight the weight of moving her solid body. Her heart stopped, frozen in mid-beat. She exhaled, her eyes staring – solidified. The last thing she felt was Ray's gentle kiss.

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  23. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing.
    Only one thing could leave a mark like that.
    It had to be the dragon.
    The noise of battle around her faded. Alyth fell to the ground, dropping her sword. The deadly wound flared a deep crimson as she groaned in agony, unable to even scream properly. Perspiration rolled off her face as she struggled to maintain even breathing. Her world was becoming blurry, the figures running around her looking like indistinct shapes from a dream. She wouldn't be able to keep her eyes open much longer.
    Suddenly, a shrieking sound filled the air.
    Its the dragon, she thought, her mind sluggish. He's coming to finish me off. Now she did close her eyes and prepared herself for death. But death didn't come.
    Instead, the dragon shrieked again, but this time the cry was different. It sounds like...its... Alyth's mind couldn't complete the sentence as the sound faded away. That's odd. Its so quiet now. She felt herself slipping away.
    The last thing she heard before she fell into the comfort of unconsciousness was, "It's all right, Alyth. We got him."

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  24. Lily Spinner's Little BrotherOctober 15, 2015 at 1:31 PM

    She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be...No. It had to be the magic dagger, Nohiem. But she had destroyed that!
    "I'm going to kill you," Arenna said.
    The skeleton leered, its ever present grin taunting her. "Last time you tried to kill me, girlie, it didn't work out so well."
    In a swirl of anger, she slashed at him with her sword. "Bonehead," she roared.
    He didn't even have to dodge. "I believe you missed."

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  25. She hefted the sword a little higher, the wound on her arm glowing. Only one thing could leave a mark like that. It had to be the gift. Aliana could only watch as the wound healed itself, the only sign that it was ever there being a shimmering swirl. Then, the girl spoke.

    "You can never truly defeat us, Rotiart."
    The man laughed.

    "Well, look who's talking. How many of your own people have I vanquished? Why, aren't you the last one? You are completely in my power, I could kill you right here! You were defeated when I gained the throne!"

    "As I said, you can never truly defeat us. There is justice at the end of every story."

    Aliana woke up with a start.

    "What in blueberry pie did I just see?"

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