give me an idea I'll write words about it (not drunk)

[wesoda25]

Give me a thing and I make words out of it. First five GUARANTEED. Beyond that, whatever I feel like. No promises as to quality or format or relation I just feel like running away with an idea or two or seven. It can be ANY* thing!

*that is not gross or weird

thank you!

[wubli]

can you write a short horror story in the setting of ss13, it can be more psychological horror or whatever you can think of
:} i like this thread

[bastardblaster]

write a story about how I drove into a bush on my bike a week ago and fell over

[EmpressMaia]

A moth person walks into a bar. Expand on this

[BONERMASTER]

You blink and suddenly find yourself in a full courtroom of a mysterious and alien space station.


With lawful regards
-BONERMASTER

[RedBaronFlyer]

You are assigned a project at Centcom to demonstrate the differences and similarities between the clown and mime roles for a budget meeting, as well as giving your opinion on which one you think is the better job and why.

[iwishforducks]

this is totally unrelated to the thread can you just list off onomatopoeias of explosion sounds

[wesoda25]

can you write a short horror story in the setting of ss13, it can be more psychological horror or whatever you can think of
:} i like this thread

IndentI was twenty when I first set foot in the wastes. Each day I’d go out. Each day I’d come back. I saw and experienced many strange things out here. Fleshy tendrils which sprouted from the ground, spewing forth monsters and beating like great hearts. Miners gone mad. Natives, both kind and terrible. Treasure, wealth, and technology - some ancient, some unprecedented.
IndentEventually I turned twenty-one. Then twenty-two. Different powers, policies, and people came and went on the station. They didn’t matter much to me. I had one job. One passion. Explore and exploit the wastes.
IndentOne day, when I was twenty-three, I chanced upon something that I’d never seen before. By then that was a rarity. I had excavated a large area, looking for ore. A storm loomed black and terrible on the horizon. I knew I had to return to the station quickly. Yet just as I turned to leave, something on the ground caught my eye. An irregular object protruding from the ash, not far from where I stood. Curious, I drew closer.
IndentIt was a foot. Black bones held loosely together by thin, rotting strands of sinew and muscle. Stained dark, the color of ash. It had clearly been there for a very long time. Curious as to who - or what - lay beneath, I gave it a tug. It didn’t budge. The foot felt strangely warm through my glove. Puzzled, I took a step back. A quick look at the horizon revealed that the storm was fast approaching. Not willing to give up, I leveled my PKA just below the foot. PHOOM. Stone and rock crumbled, becoming a shallow crater. At the bottom lay a body.
IndentIt looked much the same as the foot. Black bones with thin strands of tissue snaking about, just barely holding them together. It smelled ungodly, even through my mask. An awful smile played across its face.
IndentWhat was truly remarkable, though, was the beautiful pendant which hung around its neck. A chain, somehow spotless, composed of alternating, intricately wrought metals - gold and something dark. Hanging down, directly over the heart, was a large, blood-red ruby. It almost seemed to glow. I was captivated. Enthralled. I wanted it.
IndentThe storm ever present in my mind, I knelt down and reached for the necklace. The body stirred.
IndentSHIT. I dove backwards, heart in my throat, knife drawn defensively before me. My whole body trembled. With wide eyes I stared at the corpse. It lay still. Did I just imagine that? The body - the corpse - was dead. It had to be. Yet I was sure it had moved. Terrified, I got back on my feet, not once looking away. My brain started to turn.
IndentIt was then that I made the worst decision of my long, long life. Drunk on an intoxicating mixture of horror, disgust, and greed, I thought of the whispered stories shared amongst the queer inhabitants of the planet. A talisman of immortality, lost to the wastes long, long ago. Could it be?
IndentI had to know. Steeling myself, I violently yanked the chain from around the corpse’s neck. This time it did not move. The storm bearing down on me, I looked down at the necklace. Engraved in fine silver around the gem were the words: "Memento Mori". Ash swirled around me. I’ll call you Mori. An odd thought. I pocketed the chain and sprinted back to the station.
IndentA year passed. I was twenty-four. One day, I set out into the wastes, Mori hung about my neck. I did not come back.
IndentThat's the extent of what they know about me, I imagine. I think about it a lot, stuck down here with nothing to do. Burning and waiting. Burning and waiting. Life clings to me like a disease - no, like Mori. I wish I had never put it on.

[wesoda25]

this is totally unrelated to the thread can you just list off onomatopoeias of explosion sounds

BPHHHOOOOMM

RRSHKSHHHHH

KKRAAPHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMSHSHSHSHHSHSHHSHSHhhHHHHHshHSH

[wesoda25]

write a story about how I drove into a bush on my bike a week ago and fell over

Last week I put the pedal to the metal.
No wait, I mean the bramble.
I'd been rolling along
Singing a song
When my bike hit a bush
And launched me onto a lawn!

(might redo this one)

[Misdoubtful]

Can you rewrite some of these stories but be drunk when you do it?

[wubli]

can you write a short horror story in the setting of ss13, it can be more psychological horror or whatever you can think of
:} i like this thread

IndentThat's the extent of what they know about me, I imagine. I think about it a lot, stuck down here with nothing to do. Burning and waiting. Burning and waiting. Life clings to me like a disease - no, like Mori. I wish I had never put it on.

this is awesome tysm, i once joked about making a chracter who dates a lot of miners and they all end up dying due to the nature of lavaland

[Super Aggro Crag]

Give me a thing and I make words out of it. First five GUARANTEED. Beyond that, whatever I feel like. No promises as to quality or format or relation I just feel like running away with an idea or two or seven. It can be ANY* thing!

*that is not gross or weird

thank you!

write about snailiens

[wesoda25]

Can you rewrite some of these stories but be drunk when you do it?

I hardly drink these days, as an alternative maybe I will cook up some nonsense while riding a caffeine high

this is awesome tysm, i once joked about making a chracter who dates a lot of miners and they all end up dying due to the nature of lavaland

25th century equivalent to being a sailor

[Annihilite111]

can you write a short horror story in the setting of ss13, it can be more psychological horror or whatever you can think of
:} i like this thread

IndentI was twenty when I first set foot in the wastes. Each day I’d go out. Each day I’d come back. I saw and experienced many strange things out here. Fleshy tendrils which sprouted from the ground, spewing forth monsters and beating like great hearts. Miners gone mad. Natives, both kind and terrible. Treasure, wealth, and technology - some ancient, some unprecedented.
IndentEventually I turned twenty-one. Then twenty-two. Different powers, policies, and people came and went on the station. They didn’t matter much to me. I had one job. One passion. Explore and exploit the wastes.
IndentOne day, when I was twenty-three, I chanced upon something that I’d never seen before. By then that was a rarity. I had excavated a large area, looking for ore. A storm loomed black and terrible on the horizon. I knew I had to return to the station quickly. Yet just as I turned to leave, something on the ground caught my eye. An irregular object protruding from the ash, not far from where I stood. Curious, I drew closer.
IndentIt was a foot. Black bones held loosely together by thin, rotting strands of sinew and muscle. Stained dark, the color of ash. It had clearly been there for a very long time. Curious as to who - or what - lay beneath, I gave it a tug. It didn’t budge. The foot felt strangely warm through my glove. Puzzled, I took a step back. A quick look at the horizon revealed that the storm was fast approaching. Not willing to give up, I leveled my PKA just below the foot. PHOOM. Stone and rock crumbled, becoming a shallow crater. At the bottom lay a body.
IndentIt looked much the same as the foot. Black bones with thin strands of tissue snaking about, just barely holding them together. It smelled ungodly, even through my mask. An awful smile played across its face.
IndentWhat was truly remarkable, though, was the beautiful pendant which hung around its neck. A chain, somehow spotless, composed of alternating, intricately wrought metals - gold and something dark. Hanging down, directly over the heart, was a large, blood-red ruby. It almost seemed to glow. I was captivated. Enthralled. I wanted it.
IndentThe storm ever present in my mind, I knelt down and reached for the necklace. The body stirred.
IndentSHIT. I dove backwards, heart in my throat, knife drawn defensively before me. My whole body trembled. With wide eyes I stared at the corpse. It lay still. Did I just imagine that? The body - the corpse - was dead. It had to be. Yet I was sure it had moved. Terrified, I got back on my feet, not once looking away. My brain started to turn.
IndentIt was then that I made the worst decision of my long, long life. Drunk on an intoxicating mixture of horror, disgust, and greed, I thought of the whispered stories shared amongst the queer inhabitants of the planet. A talisman of immortality, lost to the wastes long, long ago. Could it be?
IndentI had to know. Steeling myself, I violently yanked the chain from around the corpse’s neck. This time it did not move. The storm bearing down on me, I looked down at the necklace. Engraved in fine silver around the gem were the words: "Memento Mori". Ash swirled around me. I’ll call you Mori. An odd thought. I pocketed the chain and sprinted back to the station.
IndentA year passed. I was twenty-four. One day, I set out into the wastes, Mori hung about my neck. I did not come back.
IndentThat's the extent of what they know about me, I imagine. I think about it a lot, stuck down here with nothing to do. Burning and waiting. Burning and waiting. Life clings to me like a disease - no, like Mori. I wish I had never put it on.

Competent prose! Consider tying together shorter sentences when possible, though. I think it'd do wonders for the flow of your story (but that's just my opinion!). Big plus for the use of "-" as a semicolon, as well. It's pure aesthetics IMO.

[Annihilite111]

can you write a short horror story in the setting of ss13, it can be more psychological horror or whatever you can think of
:} i like this thread

It's unfair that only Wesoda gets to write, so here's mine:

Rust crunches against my soles. The walls of the maintenance shaft press against me as I strain my ears, listening for footsteps. Nothing but the soft humming of pipes - perhaps the faint echoes of distant machinery. I’m safe, for now. Ignoring the aching agony eating at my muscles, I rise from my position behind a forgotten crate. Just then comes a muted clunking noise from above. Startled, I trip, grabbing onto the opposite wall for balance. The sound of my panicked breathing seems to cut through the silence like a knife, and I stare into the blackness beyond - waiting to see the shape of my pursuer. The seconds tick by - one after the other - with no movement. No noises aside from the frantic beating of my heart. Thank god.
I take a moment to compose myself before I dare to move again. Terror and exhaustion has taken its toll on my body, and there isn’t much time left. Rising on unsteady legs, I begin to make my way down the tunnel. Down into the darkness.
The direction doesn’t matter. In my panic I lost count of the intersections and bends I passed. All that matters now is to keep moving until I find people. I once more become aware of the cloying stench - oil, stagnant water and a hint of rot - as I limp into the darkness. For the umpteenth time, I unhook my PDA from my belt, holding down the power button to no avail. It looks as if it’s been left in these tunnels for decades, decaying like everything else in this dim hell. Like every time before, the screen doesn’t light up. Eventually, my outstretched fingers find a wall before me, just as another pool of dim light appears in my peripheral vision. A bend.
Turning my head towards it, my knees give out, and I feel my eyes tearing up in relief. An airlock! I can see light leaking through the mottled glass set into those beautiful, angelic doors, interrupted by flashes of darkness as people pass across it. Salvation! All caution blown to the wind, I begin to limp as fast as I can towards safety. The light grows closer by the second, until i can almost reach out my hand and-
Pain shoots through my legs like lightning. I tumble and fall inches away from the airlock, screaming in agony as the floor begins to writhe. Desperately, I bang on the metal, hoping against all hope that someone will notice. I can hear it now, coming closer.
*SQUEAK*
*SQUEAK*
*SQUEAK*
*SQUEAK*
The tunnel is rotting around me. Chips of paint fall from the airlock as the tooth of time bites into the plating. The taste of iron fills my mouth, as the rhythmic squeaking grows ever louder. Flecks of rust dance across the floor, swirling and slithering as patterns coalesce and harden. Everywhere my eyes wander, the tunnel glimmers. Verdant stars crowning a rotten firmament.
“Oh my, oh my!”, a voice behind me exclaims. “How kind of you to drop by!”
It’s hard to think. The stench of iron is everywhere, every breath drowning in dust. I hear steel cutting through flesh, but all I can think about are the stars in the sky.
“Pretty, aren’t they?”, the voice continues. “I made them JUST for you!”
Stars blink in a place far away. My being shatters to the tune of unfathomable collisions.
“Come with me, friend. I’ll show you such delights!”
One by one, the stars fade, snuffed out by the inevitable decay of ages. I wait patiently, and when the last star releases its final sliver of light, I finally see.
For in the blackest void is revealed the silhouette of a house, and while no walls surround it I walk the Woods without. Eternity means nothing after time, as we sing forever to the tune of the forge. Then, just like that, I am called once more. Time reasserts its feeble grasp upon the world, and I awake again in the depths of the tunnels. There is no pain, for pain has long lost its meaning, and when I meet the eyes of my master the stars shine within them as they do in mine. He honks his bike horn, and I smile knowingly. My withered hand reaches out to grab the offered blade, lit by the sickly glow of laughing gods.

[kayozz]

write about snailiens

But make them extremely right wing.

[wesoda25]

Competent prose! Consider tying together shorter sentences when possible, though. I think it'd do wonders for the flow of your story (but that's just my opinion!). Big plus for the use of "-" as a semicolon, as well. It's pure aesthetics IMO.

Thank you thank you, I greatly appreciate the feedback. I've actually made a conscious effort lately to use more short sentences, statements really. But reading back through I can see how some of the sentences got... unwieldly. Will keep that in mind for the future.

[wesoda25]

words

Neat. I didn't know all those words! Ending was really cool, I sort of had to stop and backtrack when I realized you were really ramping it up there. I particularly liked this line: "when I meet the eyes of my master the stars shine within them as they do in mine," it's a very concise and poetic way of, like, capturing the revelations the MC just underwent. Also you have a good control over past/present tense which I SUCK at so kudos for that.

You should try your hand at bonermasters prompt. I'm almost done with a very, very rough draft. I suck at dialogue though as well as settling on past or present tense (whenever I choose one or the other, something always leaps out as awkward. its very bleugh.) so it might take me a while to get it in a spot that I'm not unhappy with

[Annihilite111]

Thank you thank you, I greatly appreciate the feedback. I've actually made a conscious effort lately to use more short sentences, statements really. But reading back through I can see how some of the sentences got... unwieldly. Will keep that in mind for the future.

Yeah it's a tough balance to strike, and i really struggle with it too sometimes. I actually rewrote certain sentences just because i didn't wanna do the exact thing i pointed out to you, hehe.

Neat. I didn't know all those words! Ending was really cool, I sort of had to stop and backtrack when I realized you were really ramping it up there. I particularly liked this line: "when I meet the eyes of my master the stars shine within them as they do in mine," it's a very concise and poetic way of, like, capturing the revelations the MC just underwent. Also you have a good control over past/present tense which I SUCK at so kudos for that.

You should try your hand at bonermasters prompt. I'm almost done with a very, very rough draft. I suck at dialogue though as well as settling on past or present tense (whenever I choose one or the other, something always leaps out as awkward. its very bleugh.) so it might take me a while to get it in a spot that I'm not unhappy with

I'm with you on dialogue being hard. I was originally planning on expanding the clown heretic's lines a fair bit, but as soon as i start writing speech it's like everything stops fitting together. It's by far my biggest weakness when it comes to writing, and i think that's the case for many people.

I'll admit i rushed the ending a bit too. I wanted to flesh out the horror of the maintenance tunnels a bit more - really capturing every detail, y'know? I interned with the maintenance workers at a large hospital when i was a teenager, and i wanted to describe the reality of the dark, pipe-lined tunnels that wound throughout the complex.

Thank you too. I'll look at some prompts tomorrow and steal them if i get inspired. I've gotten way too little writing practice since uni started up.

[BONERMASTER]

I'm with you on dialogue being hard. I was originally planning on expanding the clown heretic's lines a fair bit, but as soon as i start writing speech it's like everything stops fitting together. It's by far my biggest weakness when it comes to writing, and i think that's the case for many people.

The thing is, I'd say, that a horror creature generally doesn't talk a whole lot. The more lines you cram into your supernatural being, the less scary it tends to become, because what are we most afraid of? The unknown! The more alien and beyond our understanding the creature is, the better it lends itself for horror. Being chased down by a horrifying eldritch abomination that wants to devour our mind and soul doesn't need 500 epic lines to be scary and enjoyable.


With extra-dimensional regards
-BONERMASTER

[Annihilite111]

The thing is, I'd say, that a horror creature generally doesn't talk a whole lot. The more lines you cram into your supernatural being, the less scary it tends to become, because what are we most afraid of? The unknown! The more alien and beyond our understanding the creature is, the better it lends itself for horror. Being chased down by a horrifying eldritch abomination that wants to devour our mind and soul doesn't need 500 epic lines to be scary and enjoyable.


With extra-dimensional regards
-BONERMASTER

That's entirely true, especially in Weird Fiction where the alien is the aesthetic core of the work. However there's a difference between choosing to forgo dialogue and avoiding it due to a personal issue of skill.

[wesoda25]

You blink and suddenly find yourself in a full courtroom of a mysterious and alien space station.


With lawful regards
-BONERMASTER

https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2P ... FE3V0_/pub

Took me a while, hope you enjoy. Open invite to anyone who wants to give me their thoughts.

[BONERMASTER]

You blink and suddenly find yourself in a full courtroom of a mysterious and alien space station.


With lawful regards
-BONERMASTER

https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2P ... FE3V0_/pub

Took me a while, hope you enjoy. Open invite to anyone who wants to give me their thoughts.

This text communication has been inspected and approved by the high security prison service team.

Dear Wesoda,

my highest appreciation for following through with your promise on writing out a story based on the very barebones prompt I gave you. And what a dark story it turned out to be! I must say, it is surely ironic considering my current situation and this guy getting judged by a trio of insane clowns, actually it is not ironic at all, I have violated the law and fully take responsibility for all the actions I took and there is only myself to blame.

In either case, let's also mention that it is also a fair bit longer than any other story so far? It's even it's own google document. I feel like you went all out on this one, kudos for sticking through it. I sure wasn't expecting this kind of response, even the story was rather unexpected, I had some vague ideas about what kind of story could unfold, everyone getting eaten by a tiger sure wasn't one of them. But it is an interesting twist you know? And isn't that the beautiful thing about sharing our stories? It gives one new ideas and insights, like a certain spice on a food you used to eat all the time, and suddenly it tastes completely new.
Though in my head, I sure was hoping for a happy end like a BONERMASTER Associative bursting in and realising that their license had been suspended and therefore instead lawfully inform the respective authorities before taking any unwise actions.

Once again, thank you for writing the story.


With lawful regards
-BONERMASTER

[wesoda25]

Bahhahahaha np. Take care in prison BM