The 'Shit let's get some random as heck prompts meme'

[high_roller]

The 'Shit let's get some random as heck prompts meme'

 

Step 1
✪Post with your character! Name and series go in the header.

Wait, you're not done!

Head over here and click on one of the writing prompt generators.  Generate until you find one you think is interesting and copy and paste it into the body of your comment.  Or come up with your own random prompt.  Whatever.

Do not leave the body of your comment blank!
Seriously, that is some bright red text up there.  If you leave your comment blank you're just gonna look like a tool for not following easy directions.

Step 2
✪Go around and look at other characters.  Find a prompt you think looks entertaining and respond! You guys are now playing that prompt out.

Comments

Tohru Kouno ♥ Princess Princess

[blueprincess]

In a kingdom of secrets and insanity, in a time of crime, an astrologer and a nun battle lawlessness.

ooc: pfff... I can be either astrologer or nun~

Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf

[stiles]

In a city of panic, two tomb-robbers search for the ultimate weapon.

OR.

The legend of Merlin set in a mosh pit.

Ultimate weapon plot is go.

[dysarmed]

[War's content to ignore the freaking populace wailing about their fashion and daylight savings and when the sun will go out and if right-dispositioned things offend the universe and what it may do about it. He walks down the street, heading for the military base on the outskirts of the city. And speaking of street, they're jammed with drivers wrestling with being late to work and imagining how much it'd hurt to die in a car crash. One person removes his keys, leaps out, and runs over the cars in front of him, screams about cold office tea. Morning in Panic City.]

Schmidt | New Girl

[theresschmidtonyourface]

A hunter with a rival in his/her profession moves in with an unbalanced philanthropist. What starts as curiosity becomes love - all thanks to a quest.

Viral//Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann

[no_compromise]

The story is about an obsessive prophet with a peculiar affinity for magical items. It takes place on a generation ship. Genetic engineering and its side effects is a major part of this story.

this was literally my first roll.

Rikku | Final Fantasy X / X-2

[plunderful]

In a city of warfare and lies, an engineer and a linguist fight the forces of hell.

or

The theme of this story: surreal drama. The main characters: friendly businessman and persistant outlaw. The start of the story: surgery. The end of the story: miscommunication.

Dick Grayson | Batman

[justlikeacircus]

This is an epic about the need for change and growth. The story is about a performance artist who is from a parallel dimension. It takes place in a castle.

(If a circus acrobat counts as a performance artist, sounds pretty perfect)

War | Darksiders

[dysarmed]

The story starts on an ice floe. The story must have a rabbit at the end. The story must involve a boat. During the story, a character finds out a dark secret.

OR

In a haunted city of illusion, an ambassador and a xenobotanist battle a cabal of devils intent on stealing the souls of the innocent.

OR

During the story, there is a sudden change in weather. The story must have a duck involved in the middle. The story must involve a jar of jelly. A character is hateful throughout most of the story.

#3 is Go!

[dirk_gently]

Cjelli Wholesale Shrimp Supply Company has been working overtime the past week, because it's that or let one of the mechanics come by and beat about said company's kneecaps with a baseball bat. At least he has the Jag back in his possession, with an engine that runs, and now the bill is paid with just enough left over for a couple of stiff drinks to round out the week.

Dirk sits at the Nexus bar, indulging in a drink and a smoke, and pondering the vast excitement in his life that still always seems to leave him alone, mostly broke, and feeling a little run down.

[dysarmed]

[If War had his way, Dirk would continue to be alone. But life makes fools of us all. So it is that War falls out of a portal in the ceiling, plummets and smashes the floor with a giant blue-sparking gauntlet. Tiles six feet around him shatter and/or leap from the surface. He lifts his hand away, glares at the small object crushed through several inches of what lays beneath the floor. Maybe no one wants to know. But if the Nexus has a basement, said object will be rolling in a pile of radiant sadistic glee.

War snarls and punches the floor again.]

[dirk_gently]

With his usual classic display of grace and quick reflexes, Dirk falls off his bar stool as it rocks from the impact, and lands with a solid thud on his backside, while spilling most of a gin-and-tonic on himself.

"...Oh god. It's you."

He doesn't even bother to pick himself up off the floor just yet. He's already had a drink and a half, and while he's not actually well and truly drunk, it still seems safer down here just for the moment.

[dysarmed]

[One more shock wave! War lifts his fist and raises his lip in disgust, but relaxes his expression at the warm verbal embrace of his presence.]

'Maybe I'll see you around sometime.' You're fond of sarcasm?

[The shock wave-causing gauntlet vanishes, and War reaches down and pulls up a jar. A jelly jar. The Smucker's sticker's still on it. As War stands and inspects the jar, it's clear it isn't even scratched.]

[dirk_gently]

"Only when it's intentional." He sighs, but on seeing the floor-punching seems to be over for the moment, he clambers slowly back up on his feet with the aid of the bar stool.

"Er... you need one of those gripper things?"

[dysarmed]

[It's also clear the jelly jar isn't filled with jelly. There's a faintly glowing carved figure of some sort, bobbing in a mass of blue that has screaming skulls drift out from time to time. Okay. So it could be Satan's jelly. In experiment, War lets the jar go again. Clatter. Nope. He picks it back up. Frowns.]

Be more specific.

[dirk_gently]

He bends down with a grunt to retrieve his hat off the floor, and smacks it against one leg to get the dust off. "There's... these sort of rubber gripper things they make, to help you open difficult jars..." Dirk's voice trails off as he notices the jar is glowing, and he edges closer, pulling off his glasses briefly and cleaning them on the hat to be sure he's seeing this right.

"...Ah. Nevermind, that... probably wouldn't work. What is that? Deathberry preserves? Is that what you normally put on your toast of a morning?" Honestly, for War that doesn't seem out of the question.

[dysarmed]

I don't eat. Who's 'they'?

['Probably' is still worth a try. To know how to build something, you need to know how to deconstruct it, right? Maybe they can help, since they make jar openers. Could have some secret supernatural sect.]

Sokka | Avatar: The Last Airbender

[angle_on_it]

This is a murder-mystery with an undercurrent about endurance and making ones own destiny. The story is about a wily theologian, a jailer, and a fisherman. It starts in a camp in an outpost. A sudden increase in dangerous monsters is a major plot element.

OR

The story is about a blacksmith. The story begins with a revelation and ends with a kidnapping. An ancient evil coming back to life is a major part of the story.

OR

The story is about a fearful explorer who is in love with a committed college professor. It takes place in a galaxy of magic. The story climaxes with a flashback. A conflict between magical races plays an important role.

OR

Bring your own!

... 2nd option, I guess?

[bookish_lioness]

She'd thought that the war had been over. Voldemort was supposedly dead, the Death Eaters were in Azkaban, and Sokka was safely situated in her world, making a decent enough living as one of the few Muggles who knows about the magical world without being related or married to someone in it.

But then Harry began to act strangely. And though it took a while, Hermione was able to get together with Professor McGonagall and determine that, though the fragment of Voldemort that had lived within him was likely dead, there was something about Harry that seemed almost... haunted. A Horcrux wasn't its own person, of course, so it couldn't actually become a ghost upon being destroyed, and Voldemort likely had no real soul left to become bound as a spirit. So it seemed that Harry's steadily more aggressive behavior was mostly psychological, and unfortunately, the wizarding world has never been much for psychology. Unfortunately, Muggle psychologists would likely hear the word 'magic' and opt to put Harry away in a nice room with soft white walls where he couldn't hurt himself and possibly others... as far as they knew.

It was when Harry attacked Ron while calling him a 'blood traitor' that really sent Hermione on edge, but he had disappeared before the Aurors could come and do something about him. After ascertaining that Ron was all right, it had been recommended that Hermione stay safe and out of the way, in case Harry came for her next. By this point, she was so confused and terrified and simply at the end of her rope that there was noting else for it.

So that was why Hermione sped into Sokka's shop, looking around for him before swiftly running for him, throwing her arms about him. "Sokka! Sokka, please, I need your help!"

Brilliant, as always!

[angle_on_it]

Despite being centered in the wizarding world, Sokka's little shop seemed one of the more quiet destinations. He provided handmade wares in lieu of those made magically, offering a certain quaint charm to those who were more interested in the muggle world than the normal wizard. Needless to say, he didn't receive a lot of visitors in a day, and certainly, few of them came in knowing his name and needing help.

Before he could really register what had happened, he felt familiar arms around him and could sense Granger's body racing to catch its breath. "Hermione! What's-- O-of course I'll help," he informed her with little hesitation, peeling himself away from the frightened witch. Immediately, his eyes focused on the door and he crossed past her to lock it, mind instantly on a different time and place when fear ruled their everyday lives.

He returned to the witch, grabbing her shoulders as if to steady her, blues eyes taking in her appearance to make certain she was unharmed. "What's happened? A-are you okay?"

♥!

[bookish_lioness]

When Sokka pulled away from her to lock the door, Hermione hugged herself, shivering despite the fairly mild weather. She was badly shaken, and if it hadn't been for Ron himself insisting that she run off, she would still be by his side, even if her shock had rendered her useless. But for now, Sokka was holding onto her shoulders, and she instinctively clutched at his elbows, wanting to keep him close.

Taking a deep breath, she nervously stammered, "I-... I don't know, it's-.... It's Harry. Something in his mind, it- it's snapped. It might be post-traumatic stress, or... or any number of things, I suppose; I'm hardly qualified to make such judgments. He needs a doctor, I think, preferably someone certified to prescribe medications to keep him calm, or who knows enough about potions to do the same. A Muggle-born psychologist, perhaps? I don't know if any of those exist, but we need to do something, or else the Aurors are apt to throw him in Azakaban, since he's far too dangerous in this state for St. Mungo's. He attacked Ron - Ron, for Heaven's sake! - and he was spouting off all of this horrifying hate speech. There's only so much Ron or I can do to speak on his behalf with what we know about his old connection with Voldemort, so we need someone eloquent, someone who can get to the root of Harry's troubles and bring him out of it while convincing the Aurors not to do further damage by putting him in Azkaban."

Finally running out of steam, she paused to take a breath before adding in, as though in afterthought, "They were worried he might try to hurt me, so I need to find alternative lodgings for a time. I would never dream of imposing on you, Sokka, but if you can suggest a temporary safehouse, I would highly appreciate it."

♥

[angle_on_it]

Sokka frowned, Hermione's recounting of what had happened echoing strangely in his mind. He hadn't been friendly with Harry Potter like Hermione had been, but proximity allowed him to know the wizard wasn't at all the type to attack people based on their lineage or upbringing. The whole war had hinged on his ability to sacrifice himself, so hearing such terrible things made the tribesman's heart sink.

He pulled Granger close, wrapping his arms around her protectively and pressing his face into her bushy hair. At first he was confused as to what he could do to help, but eventually the witch's real request sank in and he nodded. "I would take you in as long as you needed, Hermione, of course I would. But... if that's not safe enough -- if you'd rather be elsewhere -- I can definitely find a place for you. It's asking very little of me on all accounts, and you know I'm glad to help however I can," he explained (as if she needed a reminder.)

♥

[bookish_lioness]

Hermione was only all too glad to embrace Sokka right back, holding him closely and burying her face in the crook of his neck. She hadn't expected anything of Sokka; he'd always offered, but she'd never taken him up on it, if only because she had never envisioned a situation where she might need him. But now... he had no magic, and so Harry - if he really was out for her - might assume that she'd gone under the protection of a powerful witch or wizard. She would be safe with him. More than safe. He would take care of her, even if she didn't want him to.

"Thank you, Sokka," she murmured softly. "I would never ask, but... well, I'm desperate. Rest assured that, if there's the slightest sign of trouble, I'll pick up and leave and put the biggest protection spell on your lodging that I can manage. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

♥

[angle_on_it]

"Hermione..." He breathed it out, feeling tense at her worry. How could something like this happen? Why wasn't there someone there that could actually help? Sokka hated the idea that one of Granger's best friends could be so mixed up that he actually scares his friends.

"Don't worry about me, okay? No one's going to have an interest in what I do, so protection spells would just be wasted. You can stay here for as long as you feel safe. Harry wouldn't think to look here -- not in a million years." The tribesman was far enough off the boy's radar that Sokka felt pretty sure about that.

He takes her by the elbow and leads her into the back room where he'd made himself a home. It's warm, heated by fire and comprised of only a few rooms. Sokka had a small kitchen, a generous living area with a couch which doubled as a bed, and a decently sized bathroom with a full sized bathtub.

"I'll put on some tea," he suggested, knowing it would be welcome and would help Hermione settle a little.

♥

[bookish_lioness]

"I'm protecting you either way," Hermione declared stubbornly. "You're a good man to take me in like this, Sokka, and I'm not repaying that goodness with carelessness. I'll make sure you're as safe as you can be in all of this."

Wrapping her arms around herself as he led her to the back, Hermione looked about, noticing that he had a quaint sort of living space, and she smiled a little ruefully. She shouldn't have gotten him into this. He didn't deserve whatever risks she was putting on him.

"Thank you, Sokka. I-... I don't need much. Just a chair to sleep in would be fine, as it wouldn't encroach on your personal space."

♥

[angle_on_it]

He's already rattling around the kitchen, filling the kettle with water while he listens to Hermione. Honestly, Sokka would have never guessed that there was anything going on if she hadn't alerted him of as much. It had been so long since he'd been close to the real pulse of the wizarding community, he often lived in the dark of what was really going on.

"Don't be silly, you'll take the couch. I've got plenty of camping equipment, including a few sleeping bags, so I'll be just as comfortable on the floor as I might be on the couch." Sokka left the water to heat and immediately started cobbling together a sandwich for the witch, very much like his grandmother in wanting to feed any guest whether they're hungry or not.

He turned to look over his shoulder. "Although, if you want more comfortable amenities, my sister has a pretty nice flat across town. She'd take you in a lot more comfortably than I could... not that she's ever home." The witch had been traveling, in and out of town more often than a salesman. "For that matter, if she's not home, we could both go over there."