one-shot challenge

[Greenleaf]

Hello! This is just a thread for my responses to this lovely one-shot challenge. Please feel free to read and comment, and constructive criticism is always greatly appreciated.

Entries here are likely to be very haphazard since that's the only way I can write nowadays, but I'll do my best to clean them up.

Thanks for reading!

- Greenleaf



Code: Select all

[size=95][list][list][b]prompt:[/b] text
[b]word count:[/b] text
[b]notes:[/b] text

--

text[/list][/list][/size]

[Greenleaf]

(I've taken the liberty of copying this directly from the original thread; please let me know if that's not allowed.)

i. "i'm not a little girl!"
ii. "what even is this?"
iii. "can you please tell me what's going on?"
iv. "i just went for a run."
v. "i'm broken."
vi. "don't. do. stupid."
vii. "she just stares at everybody."
viii. "oops."
ix. "i'm a...taco."
x. "i don't regret being a cat."
xi. "doritos?"
xii. "i thought cows said moo?"
xiii. "look at all those chickens!"
xiv. "oh, i didn't...wait, what?"
xv. "i said left! left, you idiot!"
xvi. "whatever they do don't give-"
xvii. "whoops."
xviii. "where's the other poptart?"
xix. "i said okay."
xx. "this...is a mess."
xxi. "we're goin' to lincoln!"
xxii. "but for how long?"
xxiii. "wait a momento-"
xxiv. "and...he stopped answering."
xxv. "any last words?"
xxvi. "say something." "bork."
xxvii. "at least he tried."
xxviii. "and to think i might marry you."
xxix. "if you love me let me gooooo!"
xxx. "i need someone to keep me sane."
xxxi. "look at what you got into."
xxxii. "she didn't deserve it."
xxxiii. "it hurts!"
xxxiv. "don't be a baby."
xxxv. "don't let goo...you already did."
xxxvi. "sometimes i'm her friend."
xxxvii. "oh. so that was supposed to make sense."
xxxviii. "this is weird."
xxxix. "this isn't like always."
xl. "i love you."
xli. "are you kidding me?"
xlii. "pew pew pew."
xliii. "roman numeral...s."
xliv. "i thought you'd be taller."
xlv. "maybe i'll just shoot you."
xlvi. "all hail the cake!"
xlvii. "are you-"
xlviii. "whatcha think?"
xlix. "it's a fake!"
l. "real cute."

li. "i think i broke it."
lii. "what do you mean it's alive?"
liii. "it's beginning to look a lot like..."
liv. "oh there goes the bed."
lv. "rest in pieces."
lvi. "aloha mora!"
lvii. "i can't believe you can't think of anything smarter to say."
lviii. "it's still in there!"
lix. "one hundred is a lot."
lx. "hey, assbutt!"
lxi. "potatoes are great."
lxii. "spray cheese is yay cheese."
lxiii. "puhutko suomea?"
lxiv. "it's over."
lxv. "i'm batman!"
lxvi. "they've got dad."
lxvii. "okay...okay?"
lxviii. "what're you doing."
lxix. "meow is a logical answer to everything."
lxx. "sadly, we are not at hogwarts."
lxxi. "you are smack in the middle of it."
lxxii. "the poor puppy!"
lxxiii. "un, duex, quatre..."
lxxiv. "you are very...lovely."
lxxv. "blech."
lxxvi. "break her heart, i'll break your face."
lxxvii. "tacos are wonderful creations."
lxxviii. "we should drop out and run a store."
lxxix. "at least you'll get a nice tan."
lxxx. "lies! all lies."
lxxxi. "well that is no bueno."
lxxxii. "what happened to my cheesecake?"
lxxxiii. "where is he!"
lxxxiv. "y'ouch."
lxxxv. "but he will be."
lxxxvi. "a building!"
lxxxvii. "that's all i know."
lxxxviii. "you are a the-if!"
lxxxix. "yeeaaah- no."
xc. "finish it."
xci. "i don't speak...your language."
xcii. "can you not?!"
xciii. "e. e. f. f. o. c. eeffoc!"
xciv. "i have something to...tell...you..."
xcv. "other ones?"
xcvi. "sunrise!"
xcvii. "what does that mean?"
xcviii. "writing...it's hard."
xcix. "see her friday."
c. "and to think i'm finally finished."

[Greenleaf]

prompt: "I said okay."
word count: 920
notes: written pretty quickly and more self-indulgent than anything, so apologies for any errors or bad pacing.
also, this is exam week and I have 1231413341352 things due in the next few days. what am I doing lol

--

“Okay.”

“What?” She paused her music and removed her headphones. Her father was standing at the bedroom door when she twisted to look over her shoulder. His work clothes were stained with mud, his cheeks lined with stubble, and he was holding a small box in his hands.

“I said okay.” He looked, for once, uncharacteristically nervous.

“I thought I told you to knock before coming into my room,” she said mildly. There was no heat behind it, but he grimaced and clapped a hand to his forehead.

“Sorry, I forgot again,” he muttered, but she shook her head and swiveled her chair around completely to face him.

“Forget it, it’s fine. What did you want to talk about?”

“I just - “ he began, then stopped. Shook his head a little and hefted the box in his hands, though it couldn’t possibly have been heavy.

“I’ve… been wrong about things.” He took a step forward. “Many things, as it turns out. And I just wanted to say that it’s okay. You’re okay. Everything you’ve told me is okay.”

It was as though a cold fist had clenched her chest. She stared at him. “What is this about?”

He looked the most uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him. Well, perhaps not the most - the first would have to go towards the time of The Incident, as she sometimes called it in her more bitter moments.

“When you first told me about yourself, I was in shock.” He looked out the window, though there was only dark sky to see. “I thought I’d known everything there was to know about you, and then there you were, revealing such a huge part of yourself that I could never have even guessed at, not after all these years.”

Her blood was ice.

“I couldn’t understand it,” he said. “My beautiful baby girl, and it was like there was suddenly a stranger standing in the living room. I thought you were lying, at first. I thought, ‘There’s no way I could’ve not known about this, so it has to be a lie.’”

She tried to speak, but the words stuck and closed off her throat.

He took another step forward. Her father had always been one of the tallest people she knew, and that second step brought him right into the middle of her bedroom, halfway towards her.

“I was angry,” he said. “So angry.”

And, oh, he was. It was as though every moment of that awful night had been engraved behind her eyelids, and already she could hear again the shouting, the crack of broken plates, her screams of fury, the tears that had come hot and thick and unstoppable after she had slammed the door to the very bedroom they were in. The memory of it, heavy and wrenching, unstuck her throat. “That was unfair,” she said numbly, and looked down at her shaking hands. She didn’t know what else to say.

“It was.” She looked up in shock. Her father had reached her, and knelt to look into her face. His eyes were kind, and tired, and fond, and filled with regret. They were shiny with tears where the light hit them right.

“It was unfair. I shouldn’t have been angry, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He sighed. “If I was angry at anyone, it was myself. I felt, somehow, that I’d failed as a father - not because you’d turned out this way,” he took her hand before her face could close off from emotion completely, “but because I couldn’t fathom how I had missed such a big part of you for so long.”

“It’s not that big of a thing,” she said. She gripped her father’s fingers. “You keep saying that, and it’s really not. It’s - well, fine, maybe it is, kind of. At least, I know it’s important to me.” She blinked up at him. “But it’s not all I am. It’s a part of me, but not all of me. I’m still the same person you’ve always known.

He smiled, a bit sadly. “So much,” he murmured. “I have so much to learn. I tried looking online, a bit. About what you called yourself. I won’t lie, I still don’t understand it completely. But I was hoping…”

“What?”

“That you would help me learn, after tomorrow.”

Her vision was blurry. “And what’s tomorrow?”

He put the box in her lap. It was open. She used the hand not gripping her father’s to reach inside, and stopped at the feeling of soft cloth.

“It’s a flag,” he said when she gaped at him. “Something I found online, while researching.” He tugged her upright, out of her chair. “You should go to bed. I hear our city’s parade is tomorrow, and the organizers on the website recommended to arrive early if you want a good spot.”

“Dad,” she said, reeling. “Dad.”

“I have a long way to go, to - to apologize,” he said. “And I am - sorry, that is. So, so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her and she hugged him back, tightly, bewilderedly, as if he was the only solid thing left in the world. The flag was silky smooth in her grip.

They were silent for long, long moments. She breathed in his familiar scent of cashews and cigarette smoke, and his steady heartbeat thudded in her ears.

“Will you be there with me tomorrow?” she asked, and felt rather than saw his slow, spreading smile in response.

[Greenleaf]

prompt: "Look at what you got into."
word count: 2224
notes: gosh, this went in a totally different direction than what I'd expected. It's also 2 a.m. and writing this now, when I still have an upcoming exam to study for, may not have been my wisest choice. I'm proud of this, though.

In the story, I adjusted the prompt a bit so the grammar would fit with the sentence I was writing. I hope that's alright.

--

- I cut the story to submit to a competition, I'll put it back up here when it's finished. -

further notes: ...I had a weird mix of Stranger Things and Lovecraft in mind while writing this.

Also, in case it's unclear, Joel isn't imitating a sheep in that one section - he's just using the Chinese word for "father". It's the equivalent of an English-speaking kid whining, "Daaaaaad." :)

If anyone's interested in their names: it's a bit difficult to render Yue and Wen's names into an English pronunciation, but you can pronounce Yue's name like "you-eh" (but as one syllable) and Wen's name either like it's spelled, or like "weuhn", kind of.

Some extra info about the Things:

• I see it as a parasite of some sort.
  
• It originated in animals. Animals can become 'hosts' in two ways - 1) they are infected by another infected being, or 2) they are born with it dormant in their bodies, whereupon the parasite manifests itself usually when the animal is still an adolescent. Already-infected animals can't breed, so being born with it depends on a lot of factors, mostly environmental. Once infected, the animal host can survive leaving their natural environment, along with a bunch of other things. They're harder to eliminate the longer they're alive after manifestation.
• Humans can't be born with it. Something in their genes prevents it. They can, however, be infected by infected animals (or other humans). Infected humans are probably the most dangerous of the lot, but they live for the shortest amount of time - perhaps a week at most. Infected animals live for much, much longer.

[Ranger of the North]

ARDITYP;GWVHK,CXZ ARE YOU GOING TO CONTINUE?! :O

[Greenleaf]

ARDITYP;GWVHK,CXZ ARE YOU GOING TO CONTINUE?! :O

lol, I'm actually not too sure! I feel like I ended on a good coda so I might just leave it there, for now at least. I find the world interesting, though, so I might revisit it if I can. :D Who knows, Yue and her family might end up popping up again. Thanks for reading! <3

Hopefully I'll get another prompt done soon!! My exam is tomorrow so I'll have time to write after that. :D

[Ranger of the North]

ARDITYP;GWVHK,CXZ ARE YOU GOING TO CONTINUE?! :O

lol, I'm actually not too sure! I feel like I ended on a good coda so I might just leave it there, for now at least. I find the world interesting, though, so I might revisit it if I can. Who knows, Yue and her family might end up popping up again. Thanks for reading! <3

Hopefully I'll get another prompt done soon!! My exam is tomorrow so I'll have time to write after that.

Haha, fair enough! I look forward to seeing what you come up with next c: no pressure XD

[Greenleaf]

prompt: "I'm broken."
word count: 824
notes: This was actually the first of the prompts I filled, but I wanted to double check with site mods to make sure this was CS-appropriate, first. Please excuse the awful attempt at writing a scifi medical procedure, lol.

--

“Please,” he cried. “Oh dear God, please. No.”

Her face was unflinching as she opened her supplies. “Hold him down.”

The student - as far as she could tell from their faded school sweater - who had just come in with their companion was nearly grey beneath their mask, but they nodded and pushed him back against the cot. The dim bulb above them flickered and surged, and she prayed that now, of all times, the power would hold.

“What happened?” She was running low on supplies again. Most of the microchips she had left were old and scratched, and some were out of date entirely. The cables weren’t in much of a better state.

“Police taser,” the student said. To their credit, their voice was remarkably calm, but when she glanced over she could see them gripping the edge of the cot.

“The protests on 49th Street?”

The student’s mouth flattened and that was the only answer she needed. She looked to the side. The shutters were down, thankfully.

“Who told you about me?”

“Someone,” the student said.

“Please,” he said again, choking. “I’m broken. You have to help me. I don’t - “ his voice wavered and shorted out, like a silenced speaker, and just as quickly as it had gone, it was back again, in his shuddered sobs and laboured breathing. This was clearly not going to be an easy case.

“You’ll be fine,” she said firmly, coming up to the cot. “What’s your name?”

Another stifled sob. “Haydn.”

“Like the composer?” She cut his shirt apart, heedless of the scattered buttons. His chest was visibly twitching and jumping even as she eyed it, trying to discover the source of the reason why he and his friend had shown up at her clinic not ten minutes before, soaked in sweat and shaking, dressed in those black and blue uniforms that were impossible to mistake even in the dim lighting, both wearing masks and the hilts of weapons clear in their belts. She would’ve thought she was being robbed had it not been for the screaming.

“His parents were musicians,” the student said, with a commendable effort at a dry tone even as their voice shook. “Pretentious hippies, like he says.”

Amazingly, his mouth twitched up. “Like you’re one to talk,” he wheezed, before he succumbed to coughing. She was alarmed to hear the hollow creak of his breath as he did so.

“Less talking and more staying still,” she said sharply. “What am I dealing with here?”

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the mat, his eyelids jumping and flicking erratically. The student pressed their mouth into a line again. She turned on them with a snarl.

“I can’t help him if you don’t give me information!”

“Avery,” Haydn choked. “Please. Just tell her.”

“He’s had nearly a full mechothoracotomy,” Avery eventually said, sounding like the words were being dragged out of their throat. Then, “You have to help him. You’re the only one we know of who can come even close to helping.”

Her breath caught. No wonder. “Haven’t seen any cases like this outside of the army,” she muttered. “But the two of you can’t be more than seventeen years old.”

Before either of them could reply, she had cut a neat, firm slice down the middle of his chest. Haydn jerked, but she soon found the necessary switch among the mess of sparking and tangled wires and he fell limp back onto the cot.

Avery stared down, eyes wide. “What did you do to him?”

“Just pulled the immobilization switch. It doesn’t hurt him or shut down the system, just puts him out for a while. Trust me, it’s better this way.” The synthetic skin would mend easily enough once she reprogrammed it back together. Now she could see the tight, neat bundles of wiring and chips along the inside of his chest.

“Whoever did this was a shoddy job. Used cheap fibres for the cables; they’ve worn down over time right here,” she indicated the scratched surfaces along the cavity walls and the gleam of copper scraped visible beneath the heavy-duty casings, “and the taser must’ve shorted several out.”

She scrutinized further. “His vocal cords are connected, as was his spine, and both of them are being affected. This is likely why he was unable to walk when the two of you first arrived.” Avery nodded, and though they still looked somewhat ashen, they seemed steadier on their feet.

She glanced sideways at them. “You’re too young to be soldiers, unless this country’s military is even less transparent than I thought it was.”

“Some sort of accident when he was a kid.” Avery looked down at Haydn’s left hand, clasped with theirs. “He never talked about it much.”

She didn’t look up from her work. “I didn’t even know this kind of tech was available to civilians.”

“It usually isn’t,” Avery said, and didn’t elaborate.