Now when someone mentions the term "egg" my thoughts immediately go to Easter (if it isn't to breakfast - would you like to try our eggwhite delight mcmuffin meal? ... Uh ... nevermind.) and I can't think of Easter without bunnies hopping into it.
Which, in my authorly little brain, naturally turn into plot bunnies.
So that's what today's game is. Plot bunnies!
I'm going to start by throwing a prompt. One of you will catch it and throw it back with the bunny it inspires. The next person with catch that and toss it back with a bunny that it inspires. And so on and so forth. We're not necessarily trying to build on each other (though you can if you want to) and you only have to take into consideration the comment right above you (though if you draw inspiration from some of the others as well, you're free to do so). We're not trying to flesh out a story, but to come up with as many good, crazy, and even stupid ideas as we can.
You can keep tossing prompts until the end of the party, at which time I will draw the name of a random tosser and they'll get to read the openings of the first three of the Rizkalands.
So, what's the prompt?
"They call me Singer - is that what you call a name?"
"They loved my voice, but they didn't even know who I was."
ReplyDeleteAggie pulled her dark cloak tighter as she pushed herself even farther into the black shadows behind a column in the over crowded room. Her eyes darted from corner to corner, searching for someone or something. From the other side of the room, a clear, powerful bass voice rose above the mesmerized crowd. There would be 2 new singers chosen today, and Aggie was determined that she would not be one of them.
ReplyDeleteSuddenly a claw like hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her from the shadows. "Did you think you could hide from me?" growled the small, old man who pulled her down to face him. "You will sing today or there will be consequences." With an evil grin, he held up a bracelet. Aggie recognized it as her little sister's bracelet and her heart seized with a cold grip. He had found Anna.
The room grew quiet, waiting for the next voice to rise from the crowd. "SING!" hissed the little man, digging his nails into her skin. With a gasp for air, she opened her mouth and let her pure tenor voice rise up. There was a scuffling of feet as people turned to peer into the shadows, and then the profound silence broken only by the sound of her voice.
"I tried not to let anyone see my tears. Or the blood clotting on my wrist."
ReplyDelete~Robyn
Should I have been surprised that the man had found me? After all, a rich reward went to the man who discovered a new singer. Only, I would have thought that since Martin had told me that he had left, he would have actually been gone.
ReplyDeleteHad my own flesh and blood betrayed me?
The lunacy of it all stunned me. Music was their highest love, yet they could not understand it. They could not appreciate it. They only used it for their own purposes -- purposes that often included gold coins lacing the insides of their velvet purses. And now, here I was, caught up in the middle.
ReplyDeleteMusic used to be the one thing that brought me enjoyment, the one thing I loved, the one thing that could save me. Now my love was being used against me.
Suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder. I jumped before I could realize that this hand was gentle and not the bony claw of the old man.
ReplyDelete~RH
"Stay still, sister."
ReplyDeleteIt was Martin. With a voice as good as his, it was almost suicide for him to be here today. If he even opened his mouth the greedy music-mongers would certainly notice him.