Prompt: Use the name of a kind of food as a part of a name.
Source: None
Response:
"Let me guess, you named your kid Lemony after the author?"
"No," he gave me a look like I was crazy and sprouting tomato plants all over my head. "I named her Lemony because she's a bitter kid."
He walked away and, for once, I was completely speechless.
Notes: LOL I am not sure where this came from, I guess the random feeling of being a know-it-all who doesn't know anything . . .
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Duerma
Prompt: Use a verb (in any tense, language or spelling) as the first name of a character.
Source: None
Response:
Duerma was stooped. His hair hung limp, sweeping lifelessly around his cheeks and chin. His ears, visible when his hair parted around them, drooped as though the cartilage in them had been removed. His back was sloped and his eyes stared out above wrinkled pockets of gray flesh. He looked much older than his years, stooped and bent.
Notes: Duerma is a form of the Spanish verb dormir, which means "to sleep".
Source: None
Response:
Duerma was stooped. His hair hung limp, sweeping lifelessly around his cheeks and chin. His ears, visible when his hair parted around them, drooped as though the cartilage in them had been removed. His back was sloped and his eyes stared out above wrinkled pockets of gray flesh. He looked much older than his years, stooped and bent.
Notes: Duerma is a form of the Spanish verb dormir, which means "to sleep".
Saturday, January 29, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Lumina
Prompt: Use the name of a car as a part of the name of a character.
Source:
Response:
She was translucent, light coming through her skin as though she were a lit lantern. Her pale skin glowed. Sephra looked down at her child. She was forbidden to utter the infant’s name before her naming ceremony, but she mouthed it as she stroked her daughter’s hair. “Lumina,”
The tiny girl stirred in her sleep, a smile on her illuminated features.
Notes: The Chevrolet Lumina is a strange little car. It's name is close to the Latin word for light, but in reality the word means nothing. I just happen to like it. According to Forbes.com, the Lumina is on the list of top ten weirdest made up car names.
Source:
Response:
She was translucent, light coming through her skin as though she were a lit lantern. Her pale skin glowed. Sephra looked down at her child. She was forbidden to utter the infant’s name before her naming ceremony, but she mouthed it as she stroked her daughter’s hair. “Lumina,”
The tiny girl stirred in her sleep, a smile on her illuminated features.
Notes: The Chevrolet Lumina is a strange little car. It's name is close to the Latin word for light, but in reality the word means nothing. I just happen to like it. According to Forbes.com, the Lumina is on the list of top ten weirdest made up car names.
Friday, January 28, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - The Whole Enchilada Week: Tranquil
Prompt: Shea Tart
Source: I know several people named Shea (with spelling variations, of course)
Response:
The tiny, bald woman was deep in meditation. She did not move. Shea watched her carefully, wary of the nun opening her eyes and catching her staring. The woman who was guiding Shea's class through the Buddhist temple was still talking, but she did not hear any of it.
Shea watched the nun. The woman was thin, fragile-looking inside her robes. The woman's face was distinctively Asian, though Shea could not guess at her specific ethnicity - maybe Chinese? They were in a Chinese Buddhist temple, after all.
Shea wondered what had made the woman become a nun. She tried to picture the woman with lustrous black hair, dressed in street clothes, and failed. The nun's face was perfectly smooth, absolutely calm.
What would that kind of tranquility feel like? Shea wondered. Sitting there, she could imagine her own dark hair falling in clumps to the floor. She could almost feel the nun's robes, sense the peace of meditation.
"Tart," her teacher barked; the group was at the doorway, ready to leave. One of her male classmates giggled as someone always did when they heard her last name.
Shea looked at the woman once more. The nun's expression had not changed. The girl stood and followed her class out of the room.
Notes: I went to a Buddhist temple a few years ago and got to learn some basic meditation techniques - it was an amazing experience. Though I did not see any nuns, I did think about what it would be like to be one.
Source: I know several people named Shea (with spelling variations, of course)
Response:
The tiny, bald woman was deep in meditation. She did not move. Shea watched her carefully, wary of the nun opening her eyes and catching her staring. The woman who was guiding Shea's class through the Buddhist temple was still talking, but she did not hear any of it.
Shea watched the nun. The woman was thin, fragile-looking inside her robes. The woman's face was distinctively Asian, though Shea could not guess at her specific ethnicity - maybe Chinese? They were in a Chinese Buddhist temple, after all.
Shea wondered what had made the woman become a nun. She tried to picture the woman with lustrous black hair, dressed in street clothes, and failed. The nun's face was perfectly smooth, absolutely calm.
What would that kind of tranquility feel like? Shea wondered. Sitting there, she could imagine her own dark hair falling in clumps to the floor. She could almost feel the nun's robes, sense the peace of meditation.
"Tart," her teacher barked; the group was at the doorway, ready to leave. One of her male classmates giggled as someone always did when they heard her last name.
Shea looked at the woman once more. The nun's expression had not changed. The girl stood and followed her class out of the room.
Notes: I went to a Buddhist temple a few years ago and got to learn some basic meditation techniques - it was an amazing experience. Though I did not see any nuns, I did think about what it would be like to be one.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - The Whole Enchilada Week: I Found a Wallet
Prompt: Rosario Walden III
Source: None
Response:
The wallet was all cracked and faded leather in an ugly faun color, darkened in places by what looked to be grease or water spots. It was misshapen, bulging around its contents. The edges of cards and papers hung out of it.
It was heavy in my hands. I thought it was weighed down with change, but it was wet on the bottom. The water made the leather heavier, I thought. I unfolded the bedraggled thing. It was stuffed with papers – ticket stubs and a newspaper clipping about a kidnapping that had happened a few weeks before. The wallet had a few cloudy picture pockets filled with pictures of some gap-toothed kids and a smiling woman who looked a little worse for wear. Her roots were growing in and she looked tired, but her smile was sweet.
The big pocket was full of receipts and two one dollar bills. I sighed and looked at the cards. I had hoped for credit cards – something that might be worth something – but there was just a library card and a Blockbuster card and something that might have been a gym membership. And a license with a picture of a heavy-set white guy who looked like he would match the woman in the pictures really well. His name was Rosario Walden III – a fancy, upper class name with a hint of exotically-tinged name for some poor schmuck who probably was missing his wallet.
He probably had big plans for his two crumpled dollar bills, I figured and left the wallet where I had found it.
Source: None
Response:
The wallet was all cracked and faded leather in an ugly faun color, darkened in places by what looked to be grease or water spots. It was misshapen, bulging around its contents. The edges of cards and papers hung out of it.
It was heavy in my hands. I thought it was weighed down with change, but it was wet on the bottom. The water made the leather heavier, I thought. I unfolded the bedraggled thing. It was stuffed with papers – ticket stubs and a newspaper clipping about a kidnapping that had happened a few weeks before. The wallet had a few cloudy picture pockets filled with pictures of some gap-toothed kids and a smiling woman who looked a little worse for wear. Her roots were growing in and she looked tired, but her smile was sweet.
The big pocket was full of receipts and two one dollar bills. I sighed and looked at the cards. I had hoped for credit cards – something that might be worth something – but there was just a library card and a Blockbuster card and something that might have been a gym membership. And a license with a picture of a heavy-set white guy who looked like he would match the woman in the pictures really well. His name was Rosario Walden III – a fancy, upper class name with a hint of exotically-tinged name for some poor schmuck who probably was missing his wallet.
He probably had big plans for his two crumpled dollar bills, I figured and left the wallet where I had found it.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - The Whole Enchilada Week: Mrs.
Prompt: Madison Peter Hammerstein
Source: I once knew a guy named Madison and I've known more than a few female Madisons. I also know a Peter. I do not, however, know any Hammersteins.
Response:
Eliza glanced up from the menu to survey her dinner date. He was reclined in his chair, swishing some dark wine in his glass. He was beautiful - long fingers that caressed the stem of the goblet, a strong jaw, his broad chest filled his designer suit perfectly. Beautiful and wealthy. His wealth was obvious in every article of his clothing - almost in his every movement. He seemed to smell of it.
She reviewed what she knew about Madison Peter Hammerstein, concert pianist protegee. He was young. He was beautiful. He had been born rich and become even richer. He was single.
Eliza straightened, deliberately playing with the angle of her expensively cut neckline which was too low. A woman need only do one thing to gain all of the affluence she could possibly want. Mrs. Madison Peter Hammerstein could have anything her heart desired.
Eliza was looking forward to it.
Source: I once knew a guy named Madison and I've known more than a few female Madisons. I also know a Peter. I do not, however, know any Hammersteins.
Response:
Eliza glanced up from the menu to survey her dinner date. He was reclined in his chair, swishing some dark wine in his glass. He was beautiful - long fingers that caressed the stem of the goblet, a strong jaw, his broad chest filled his designer suit perfectly. Beautiful and wealthy. His wealth was obvious in every article of his clothing - almost in his every movement. He seemed to smell of it.
She reviewed what she knew about Madison Peter Hammerstein, concert pianist protegee. He was young. He was beautiful. He had been born rich and become even richer. He was single.
Eliza straightened, deliberately playing with the angle of her expensively cut neckline which was too low. A woman need only do one thing to gain all of the affluence she could possibly want. Mrs. Madison Peter Hammerstein could have anything her heart desired.
Eliza was looking forward to it.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - The Whole Enchilada Week: Plum
Prompt: Plum
Source: None
Response:
Her name was Plum. Just Plum. She had been dropped off outside the fire station when she was ten. She did not claim a last name and no one gave her one.
She was a quiet child with bright, wide eyes that suggested she had once been a much louder, much more vibrant child. Plum sat on the orphanage steps, hiding deep in her long, dark hair, watching everything with her bright eyes. But she did not watch the children who bounced colorful balls and skipped rope and laughed over rowdy games of hopscotch. Plum ignored them, looking beyond the children to the cars on the street.
She watched the rotating wheels, the turning, churning hubcaps. She listened to the roar of their engines and squinted in the glare thrown off of their slick coats of paint. She seemed to be looking for something – a glimpse of a driver’s face, perhaps, or a small, skinny dog darting between the great, turning wheels – but her eyes never lit up with recognition. Plum just sat hunched over on the steps, watching the cars from beneath her long hair.
Source: None
Response:
Her name was Plum. Just Plum. She had been dropped off outside the fire station when she was ten. She did not claim a last name and no one gave her one.
She was a quiet child with bright, wide eyes that suggested she had once been a much louder, much more vibrant child. Plum sat on the orphanage steps, hiding deep in her long, dark hair, watching everything with her bright eyes. But she did not watch the children who bounced colorful balls and skipped rope and laughed over rowdy games of hopscotch. Plum ignored them, looking beyond the children to the cars on the street.
She watched the rotating wheels, the turning, churning hubcaps. She listened to the roar of their engines and squinted in the glare thrown off of their slick coats of paint. She seemed to be looking for something – a glimpse of a driver’s face, perhaps, or a small, skinny dog darting between the great, turning wheels – but her eyes never lit up with recognition. Plum just sat hunched over on the steps, watching the cars from beneath her long hair.
Monday, January 24, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - The Whole Enchilada Week: Amalthea
Prompt: Crown Princess Amalthea Johanesson
Source: Amalthea is the name of a character in the film The Last Unicorn
Response:
The Crown Princess Amalthea Johanesson was exactly what her parents wanted her to be - prim, proper, and always politically correct. She was perfect and she was going to be the perfect queen one day.
That was because when Amalthea was born - an ugly, wrinkled, screaming infant - she was rushed away from the birthing room to a dark, cool room full of needles and scrubbed personnel. There they had sedated the infant, opened her skull and pulled out her brain.
Setting the organ aside, they replaced it with portions of her parents' brains, sealing her back up. Since her parents were perfect for the kingdom, it followed that a child in possession of their shared minds would be also.
And she was. Amalthea never cried. By six months she could stand by herself and recite the names of her uncles, boring the pants off of everyone in the room. That feat made her father puff up with pride. By the time she was a year old she was able to settle a dispute over livestock with three simple words (usually "Behead these peasants" or "Guards, seize them"), an accomplishment that made her mother preen. By two, she was magnanimously declining offers of betrothal and alliance from several kingdoms before settling on the offer her parents - and she - though best.
When she had not received direction to do something, Amalthea stood still, eyes wide and blank. She never said a word, though she smiled cordially at passing dignitaries. She was lovely and she mimicked better than a parent. Her parents were overjoyed; she was perfect.
Source: Amalthea is the name of a character in the film The Last Unicorn
Response:
The Crown Princess Amalthea Johanesson was exactly what her parents wanted her to be - prim, proper, and always politically correct. She was perfect and she was going to be the perfect queen one day.
That was because when Amalthea was born - an ugly, wrinkled, screaming infant - she was rushed away from the birthing room to a dark, cool room full of needles and scrubbed personnel. There they had sedated the infant, opened her skull and pulled out her brain.
Setting the organ aside, they replaced it with portions of her parents' brains, sealing her back up. Since her parents were perfect for the kingdom, it followed that a child in possession of their shared minds would be also.
And she was. Amalthea never cried. By six months she could stand by herself and recite the names of her uncles, boring the pants off of everyone in the room. That feat made her father puff up with pride. By the time she was a year old she was able to settle a dispute over livestock with three simple words (usually "Behead these peasants" or "Guards, seize them"), an accomplishment that made her mother preen. By two, she was magnanimously declining offers of betrothal and alliance from several kingdoms before settling on the offer her parents - and she - though best.
When she had not received direction to do something, Amalthea stood still, eyes wide and blank. She never said a word, though she smiled cordially at passing dignitaries. She was lovely and she mimicked better than a parent. Her parents were overjoyed; she was perfect.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - The Whole Enchilada Week: White
Prompt: Rianne Sofia Garcia de Carson
Source: None
Response:
Rianne touched her reflection in the mirror. She looked so white, so pale and scared in the glass. She said her name quietly, with the best Spanish accent she could manage, “Rianne Sofia Garcia de Carson.”
The Sofia was supposed to be Greek, though the spelling was Spanish, and Garcia was her stepfather’s last name. She was nothing but British and a little Welsh – white through and through. And Carlos was not. His family expected her to speak Spanish and cook tamales and fit into the family, but she did not. She loved Carlos, but she did not know how to be a part of his wonderful, bustling, dark-skinned, long-haired, constantly-cooking family.
“What did I get myself into?” she asked, looking at her pale, pale reflection in the mirror.
Source: None
Response:
Rianne touched her reflection in the mirror. She looked so white, so pale and scared in the glass. She said her name quietly, with the best Spanish accent she could manage, “Rianne Sofia Garcia de Carson.”
The Sofia was supposed to be Greek, though the spelling was Spanish, and Garcia was her stepfather’s last name. She was nothing but British and a little Welsh – white through and through. And Carlos was not. His family expected her to speak Spanish and cook tamales and fit into the family, but she did not. She loved Carlos, but she did not know how to be a part of his wonderful, bustling, dark-skinned, long-haired, constantly-cooking family.
“What did I get myself into?” she asked, looking at her pale, pale reflection in the mirror.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - The Whole Enchilada Week: Sybil
Prompt: Queen Sybil of the House of Delinore
Source: None
Response:
He cupped her face in his hands, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on her cheek. Sybil’s eyes were closed. He watched her, her silvery hair and porcelain skin.
He leaned in, touching his nose to that white cheek. She smelled soft – like sunshine and earth and flowers. He wanted to kiss her so badly. He brushed his lips over the smooth skin.
“No,” Sybil said, pulling back. She was breathing heavily, her bare shoulders heaving above the off-shoulder neckline of her long, ornate gown.
She was so childlike, small-boned, white, pure. He swallowed, looking down at the virgin Queen. She did not avoid his eyes, meeting his gaze emotionlessly. She was the first Queen in a long line of Delinore Kings, Kings who had destroyed the country with war and destroyed their people with stringent taxes.
Sybil had taken a vow of celibacy, determined to repair her broken country. Determined not to let it fall into the hands of another corrupt King. He let her go, moving away. He could not touch her. Sybil’s celibacy was going to save her nation.
He was exactly the kind of man she had to keep away from her people. His nation was full of corruption. His people were vicious, easily incited. He could not pursue her – if their kingdoms were joined, hers would fall into ruin. He could not jeopardize her vow.
Source: None
Response:
He cupped her face in his hands, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on her cheek. Sybil’s eyes were closed. He watched her, her silvery hair and porcelain skin.
He leaned in, touching his nose to that white cheek. She smelled soft – like sunshine and earth and flowers. He wanted to kiss her so badly. He brushed his lips over the smooth skin.
“No,” Sybil said, pulling back. She was breathing heavily, her bare shoulders heaving above the off-shoulder neckline of her long, ornate gown.
She was so childlike, small-boned, white, pure. He swallowed, looking down at the virgin Queen. She did not avoid his eyes, meeting his gaze emotionlessly. She was the first Queen in a long line of Delinore Kings, Kings who had destroyed the country with war and destroyed their people with stringent taxes.
Sybil had taken a vow of celibacy, determined to repair her broken country. Determined not to let it fall into the hands of another corrupt King. He let her go, moving away. He could not touch her. Sybil’s celibacy was going to save her nation.
He was exactly the kind of man she had to keep away from her people. His nation was full of corruption. His people were vicious, easily incited. He could not pursue her – if their kingdoms were joined, hers would fall into ruin. He could not jeopardize her vow.
Penance: January 21, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: The Time Keeper
Prompt: Time Keeper Signy
Source: This is an excerpt from a bigger story which was in turn inspired by a dream I had.
Response:
Signy was the time keeper. He was the time keeper for the colony his whole life, I think. He was so important. Even though we lived in the outskirts of the colony where the walls turned to mud and narrowed into nooks and little hollows, important people were always in house to see Signy.
They usually came after dark and I was not supposed to see them. I watched them from the doorway of the room. My parents would stand in another corner of the room as if they could not hear, pretending they could not hear. They would talk to Signy like he was an adult. They came in their dark clothes and wide hats; they almost seemed to smell of importance, leaning across the low table in the family room pointing to places of maps of the colony on the table.
Signy was only a few years older than me, but he always looked so grownup, especially when he was talking to grownups. He sat up straight, meeting their eyes, saying things I could never hope to understand but which sounded important. Things about irrigation and cave-ins and cave systems and soil quality. Important things, grownup things.
When Signy spoke, he used his hands a lot. The people he spoke to always watched his hands – his vital, all-important fingers and palms.
Source: This is an excerpt from a bigger story which was in turn inspired by a dream I had.
Response:
Signy was the time keeper. He was the time keeper for the colony his whole life, I think. He was so important. Even though we lived in the outskirts of the colony where the walls turned to mud and narrowed into nooks and little hollows, important people were always in house to see Signy.
They usually came after dark and I was not supposed to see them. I watched them from the doorway of the room. My parents would stand in another corner of the room as if they could not hear, pretending they could not hear. They would talk to Signy like he was an adult. They came in their dark clothes and wide hats; they almost seemed to smell of importance, leaning across the low table in the family room pointing to places of maps of the colony on the table.
Signy was only a few years older than me, but he always looked so grownup, especially when he was talking to grownups. He sat up straight, meeting their eyes, saying things I could never hope to understand but which sounded important. Things about irrigation and cave-ins and cave systems and soil quality. Important things, grownup things.
When Signy spoke, he used his hands a lot. The people he spoke to always watched his hands – his vital, all-important fingers and palms.
January 21, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: Power
Prompt: Chamberlain and Royal Vizier Amata
Source: None
Response:
Chamberlain and Royal Vizier Amata was beautiful and cold. Her onyx eyes were like chips of ice. Her skin was perfectly smooth black and her long ebony hair swept behind her like a royal robe, falling nearly to the floor.
In her traditional clothes she stood out among the pale, ghost-like courtiers swathed in their finery. Amata’s garb left almost nothing to the imagination – it was little more than layers of translucent black fabric tailored close to her skin – but no one looked. She had beheaded or blinded people for less.
Her position afforded her more power than the King, though he was the only one who did not know that. He took her advice always – after all it was always good – but he was oblivious to the fact that Amata ran the court, and by extension the entire kingdom.
Source: None
Response:
Chamberlain and Royal Vizier Amata was beautiful and cold. Her onyx eyes were like chips of ice. Her skin was perfectly smooth black and her long ebony hair swept behind her like a royal robe, falling nearly to the floor.
In her traditional clothes she stood out among the pale, ghost-like courtiers swathed in their finery. Amata’s garb left almost nothing to the imagination – it was little more than layers of translucent black fabric tailored close to her skin – but no one looked. She had beheaded or blinded people for less.
Her position afforded her more power than the King, though he was the only one who did not know that. He took her advice always – after all it was always good – but he was oblivious to the fact that Amata ran the court, and by extension the entire kingdom.
Penance: January 20, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: Master
Prompt: Master Akira
Source: None
Response:
The day Akira turned sixteen, the family butler called him "Young Master". The boy - a blank-faced teenager always in a pressed suit - turned around and slapped the servant across the face.
"Master," he corrected.
Source: None
Response:
The day Akira turned sixteen, the family butler called him "Young Master". The boy - a blank-faced teenager always in a pressed suit - turned around and slapped the servant across the face.
"Master," he corrected.
January 20, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: The Duke
Prompt: Duke of Miant, Lord Garthim
Source: A garthim is a creature from the movie The Dark Crystal
Response:
Garthim looked down at himself, at the platinum chain lying heavy on his chest. He never thought he would be wearing it.
He rubbed his eyes wearily. It seemed as though he had been crying for days – always in private, but every private moment linked together to make it feel as if he had been in constant tears.
It had only been a year since their father had died and his title had passed to Garthim’s elder brother. It had only been a week since Elgin had died. It had only been a week since Elgin had been Duke of Miant and Garthim had been gentry. He had been common – with a small farm and no resentment for his brother, the only noble in the family. And then suddenly Elgin was dead and Garthim was forced to assume his mantle, forced to become the Duke.
Garthim looked in the mirror. He was bent beneath the weight of the chain on his neck. He was his father; he was his brother. He was the Duke of Miant – a Lord. And he was no longer Garthim.
Source: A garthim is a creature from the movie The Dark Crystal
Response:
Garthim looked down at himself, at the platinum chain lying heavy on his chest. He never thought he would be wearing it.
He rubbed his eyes wearily. It seemed as though he had been crying for days – always in private, but every private moment linked together to make it feel as if he had been in constant tears.
It had only been a year since their father had died and his title had passed to Garthim’s elder brother. It had only been a week since Elgin had died. It had only been a week since Elgin had been Duke of Miant and Garthim had been gentry. He had been common – with a small farm and no resentment for his brother, the only noble in the family. And then suddenly Elgin was dead and Garthim was forced to assume his mantle, forced to become the Duke.
Garthim looked in the mirror. He was bent beneath the weight of the chain on his neck. He was his father; he was his brother. He was the Duke of Miant – a Lord. And he was no longer Garthim.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: Liv
Prompt: Royal Tailor Niss
Source: None
Response:
Liv pricked her finger again and had to bite her lip to keep from swearing. She should have practiced hand sewing more. Her other techniques were flawless, she was able to blend in perfectly, but the tiny hemming stitches required for gowns made with finicky fabrics were more difficult. If she was not careful, they could give her away.
She continued sewing as if nothing had happened, hesitating for only a second to be sure she was not bleeding onto the cloth.
“Niss,” someone called. Liv concentrated, pushing the needle through an enormous cloth fold to make a pleat. “Tailor Niss,” a hand touched her shoulder.
Liv forced herself not to jump, but she jabbed herself again. That’s right, she reminded herself, my name is Niss now.
Notes: This is revlevant to my story The Plague Master, though I'm not sure it will ever be used.
Source: None
Response:
Liv pricked her finger again and had to bite her lip to keep from swearing. She should have practiced hand sewing more. Her other techniques were flawless, she was able to blend in perfectly, but the tiny hemming stitches required for gowns made with finicky fabrics were more difficult. If she was not careful, they could give her away.
She continued sewing as if nothing had happened, hesitating for only a second to be sure she was not bleeding onto the cloth.
“Niss,” someone called. Liv concentrated, pushing the needle through an enormous cloth fold to make a pleat. “Tailor Niss,” a hand touched her shoulder.
Liv forced herself not to jump, but she jabbed herself again. That’s right, she reminded herself, my name is Niss now.
Notes: This is revlevant to my story The Plague Master, though I'm not sure it will ever be used.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: Corenda
Prompt: High Lord Corenda
Source: None
Response:
Corenda was a dog. He followed his master’s lead with wagging eyebrows and lolling tongue, his numerous gold collars jangling low across his chest. But High Lord Corenda was no show dog; he bared vicious teeth and a keen hunting mind when threatened. And though few knew it, his master was not the King.
Notes: If this format sounds similar to that used in the "Gratis" submission, it's because Corenda and Gratis are friends.
Source: None
Response:
Corenda was a dog. He followed his master’s lead with wagging eyebrows and lolling tongue, his numerous gold collars jangling low across his chest. But High Lord Corenda was no show dog; he bared vicious teeth and a keen hunting mind when threatened. And though few knew it, his master was not the King.
Notes: If this format sounds similar to that used in the "Gratis" submission, it's because Corenda and Gratis are friends.
Monday, January 17, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: Gratis
Prompt: Magistrate and Court Sorcerer Gratis
Source: None
Response:
His name was Gratis, but with the Court Sorcerer, nothing was gratis. Like a vulture in his red, wide-sleeved magistrate’s robes, decorated with scrolling gold letters in an unknown, no longer spoken language he prowled the palace. But he was always close enough to crane in and whisper in the young King’s ear.
And always he had a hand to take the bribes – the pouches crumpled from being sat on and the stacks of little clinking coins. Bribes to whisper an extra word in the King’s ear, bribes to rule with one farmer instead of another, bribes to forget a mistake, bribes to create a mistake where none existed. He would do it all without a second thought, as long as you had the money.
Source: None
Response:
His name was Gratis, but with the Court Sorcerer, nothing was gratis. Like a vulture in his red, wide-sleeved magistrate’s robes, decorated with scrolling gold letters in an unknown, no longer spoken language he prowled the palace. But he was always close enough to crane in and whisper in the young King’s ear.
And always he had a hand to take the bribes – the pouches crumpled from being sat on and the stacks of little clinking coins. Bribes to whisper an extra word in the King’s ear, bribes to rule with one farmer instead of another, bribes to forget a mistake, bribes to create a mistake where none existed. He would do it all without a second thought, as long as you had the money.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: Empress Elora
Prompt: Empress Elora
Source: Elora is the name of a character in the movie Willow.
Response:
Name: Elora van Heithan
Age: early twenties
Birthplace: In a carriage between two kingdoms, a fact which only serves to increase the conflict over which kingdom Elora belongs to, though she rules both.
Appearance: Tall and slender, waist-length platinum blond hair, large reflective eyes, stoic features.
Greatest Desire: To find a worthy mate to marry, in the hopes of continuing her family line.
Greatest Fear: That, after choosing her spouse, she will meet her death and he will be left to ruin her kindoms.
Source: Elora is the name of a character in the movie Willow.
Response:
Name: Elora van Heithan
Age: early twenties
Birthplace: In a carriage between two kingdoms, a fact which only serves to increase the conflict over which kingdom Elora belongs to, though she rules both.
Appearance: Tall and slender, waist-length platinum blond hair, large reflective eyes, stoic features.
Greatest Desire: To find a worthy mate to marry, in the hopes of continuing her family line.
Greatest Fear: That, after choosing her spouse, she will meet her death and he will be left to ruin her kindoms.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Entitled Week: Father Martagin
Prompt: Father Martagin
Source: Martagin is the name of a character in the movie Willow
Response:
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Taenn bowed his head, looking down and fidgeting.
Father Martagin smiled gently. The tiny boy was trembling. It was the third time Taenn had been to see him in the last two weeks. “What have you done, my child?”
Taenn looked up hesitantly. “Uncle Baagan tripped over a cat today. I laughed at him. He yelled at me.”
Father Martagin kept a straight face with some difficulty; he leaned in toward the child. “He tripped over a cat?”
Taenn looked close to tears. He nodded.
“Can I tell you something, Taenn?”
The child nodded.
“Come close, it’s a secret.” The priest put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He whispered right to Taenn, “I would have laughed too.”
Source: Martagin is the name of a character in the movie Willow
Response:
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Taenn bowed his head, looking down and fidgeting.
Father Martagin smiled gently. The tiny boy was trembling. It was the third time Taenn had been to see him in the last two weeks. “What have you done, my child?”
Taenn looked up hesitantly. “Uncle Baagan tripped over a cat today. I laughed at him. He yelled at me.”
Father Martagin kept a straight face with some difficulty; he leaned in toward the child. “He tripped over a cat?”
Taenn looked close to tears. He nodded.
“Can I tell you something, Taenn?”
The child nodded.
“Come close, it’s a secret.” The priest put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He whispered right to Taenn, “I would have laughed too.”
Friday, January 14, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Main Course Week: Frontiers
Prompt: Symons Frontier
Source: None
Response:
They called him Frontier even though his first name was Symons. He had liked it when he was a child. The name called up Westerns and lone rangers and bears fishing salmon in gigantic splashing rivers. But as he looked in the mirror, he realized he hated his name. Everyone knew the phrase "new frontiers", it popped up everywhere. But Frontier always seemed to be stuck in the same old place.
Source: None
Response:
They called him Frontier even though his first name was Symons. He had liked it when he was a child. The name called up Westerns and lone rangers and bears fishing salmon in gigantic splashing rivers. But as he looked in the mirror, he realized he hated his name. Everyone knew the phrase "new frontiers", it popped up everywhere. But Frontier always seemed to be stuck in the same old place.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Main Course Week: Ava Kaul
Prompt: Ava Kaul
Source: None
Response:
Ava did not think that Ishmael could hurt her anymore, but when she saw him walking down the street holding hands with another girl she knew she had thought wrong. When he caught sight of her, Ishmael leaned in to kiss the girl – a leggy blond in too-short shorts – she wished that she was anyone but Ava Kaul.
Source: None
Response:
Ava did not think that Ishmael could hurt her anymore, but when she saw him walking down the street holding hands with another girl she knew she had thought wrong. When he caught sight of her, Ishmael leaned in to kiss the girl – a leggy blond in too-short shorts – she wished that she was anyone but Ava Kaul.
Penance: January 12, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Main Course Week: She Was
Prompt: Evora Loreena
Source: Part of the title of the song Tango to Evora and its composer, Loreena Mckennitt
Response:
She was the sound of bells played with the tips of fingers in the smoky shadows of smoke-filled rooms, where light was red and gold and a soft, musical thrum vibrated through the air. She was the grace of dancing girls’ swaying hips and turning arms, the flash of their bronzed skin beneath swirling red dancing costumes. She was the taste of succulent fruit, picked from heavy, pregnant boughs. She was Evora Loreena and she silken vibrancy of life itself, a laughing swirl of red and gold and smoke-formed shadows.
Source: Part of the title of the song Tango to Evora and its composer, Loreena Mckennitt
Response:
She was the sound of bells played with the tips of fingers in the smoky shadows of smoke-filled rooms, where light was red and gold and a soft, musical thrum vibrated through the air. She was the grace of dancing girls’ swaying hips and turning arms, the flash of their bronzed skin beneath swirling red dancing costumes. She was the taste of succulent fruit, picked from heavy, pregnant boughs. She was Evora Loreena and she silken vibrancy of life itself, a laughing swirl of red and gold and smoke-formed shadows.
January 12, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Main Course Week: Scinema Aldrin
Prompt: Scinema Aldrin
Source: None
Response:
Scinema Aldrin Davis had cherry red hair, razor cut into a crest like a dinosaur’s on top of his head. He wore hooded sweatshirts with the names of underground bands screened onto their fronts in crooked, chaotic, tagging symbols. He wore tight jeans in bright colors and carried an enormous lime green binder covered in stickers. And Allison Brody, who had mouse brown hair and wore tame, neat dresses to school every day beneath her designer backpack, was absolutely in love with him.
Source: None
Response:
Scinema Aldrin Davis had cherry red hair, razor cut into a crest like a dinosaur’s on top of his head. He wore hooded sweatshirts with the names of underground bands screened onto their fronts in crooked, chaotic, tagging symbols. He wore tight jeans in bright colors and carried an enormous lime green binder covered in stickers. And Allison Brody, who had mouse brown hair and wore tame, neat dresses to school every day beneath her designer backpack, was absolutely in love with him.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Main Course Week: Soulmate
Prompt: Orca Lowry
Source: None
Response:
She called him soulmate. That was all. She called him soulmate so long he almost forgot his real name and, of course, that was exactly her intention. His name was made of memories – his oceanographer mother and his English professor father with a special love for The Giver – and she needed those memories to be gone. Once Orca Lowry Pence was no longer Orca Lowry Pence, he would just be soulmate. And she would own him.
Source: None
Response:
She called him soulmate. That was all. She called him soulmate so long he almost forgot his real name and, of course, that was exactly her intention. His name was made of memories – his oceanographer mother and his English professor father with a special love for The Giver – and she needed those memories to be gone. Once Orca Lowry Pence was no longer Orca Lowry Pence, he would just be soulmate. And she would own him.
Monday, January 10, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Main Course Week: Holly Danin
Prompt: Holly Danin
Source: Danin is the last name of a character in the movie Willow.
Response:
Holly signed her name, moving the ink pen slowly. Holly Danin Barker. The attorney lifted the paper, checking it over. “Danin?” she read. “That’s an interesting name.”
Holly did not respond. A lump had formed in her throat. She remembered asking her mother about where her middle name had come from when she was only a child. Her mother had explained, in that whimsical way of hers, that she had named Holly after a fairytale child Empress in an epic fantasy movie from the 80’s.
Her mother had never really been attached to reality, Holly thought. She missed the older woman more than ever – the missing a deep, leaden ache in her stomach. Perhaps without her childhood home – with the scent of her mother hanging sweet in the air, the cushioned armchairs that crowded around the bookcases filled with ancient fairytales – she would finally be able to move on.
Source: Danin is the last name of a character in the movie Willow.
Response:
Holly signed her name, moving the ink pen slowly. Holly Danin Barker. The attorney lifted the paper, checking it over. “Danin?” she read. “That’s an interesting name.”
Holly did not respond. A lump had formed in her throat. She remembered asking her mother about where her middle name had come from when she was only a child. Her mother had explained, in that whimsical way of hers, that she had named Holly after a fairytale child Empress in an epic fantasy movie from the 80’s.
Her mother had never really been attached to reality, Holly thought. She missed the older woman more than ever – the missing a deep, leaden ache in her stomach. Perhaps without her childhood home – with the scent of her mother hanging sweet in the air, the cushioned armchairs that crowded around the bookcases filled with ancient fairytales – she would finally be able to move on.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Main Course Week: DreamCakes Bakery
Prompt: Annette Haricot
Source: None
Response:
The bakery on Lindt Street was known the whole county over. The building that housed DreamCakes Bakery - as well as a tea house with heavy drapes made from oriental flavored fabrics with a name not even its owners could pronounce, a small laundermat, and the studio of a basically unknown artist who sold dully colored stained glass windows – was small and unremarkable; a brown brick structure that rose awkwardly up from the sidewalk at a crooked angle. It hung over the street, as if the tenant rooms on the top floor were particularly heavy. It was nothing if not unimpressive.
But DreamCakes was not known for its location or building, which were anything but noteworthy. Even the indoor decorations were not notable – charming in a homely antique way, but not remarkable. The bakery only had two outstanding characteristics, but together they made it more famous than any of its individual aspects warranted.
DreamCakes always smelled wonderful – a scent beyond baked goods and savory pastries. It always smelt of happiness. That scent might have been baked into DreamCakes products, but it always seemed more likely that it was an integral part of the owner. Annette Haricot was a short woman, tiny and sprite-like, with corkscrew curls the color of melted chocolate. She never forgot a face and she met every new customer with a bright smile that shone bright in her coffee-colored eyes.
Within the crooked little building, among the antique furnishing, in her patterned aprons, Annette sparkled like a jewel, enhancing the intoxicating scent of the bakery’s goods. Once a person had been inside DreamCakes and chatted a moment with the vibrant owner, it was easy to see why the tiny bakery had become so famous.
Source: None
Response:
The bakery on Lindt Street was known the whole county over. The building that housed DreamCakes Bakery - as well as a tea house with heavy drapes made from oriental flavored fabrics with a name not even its owners could pronounce, a small laundermat, and the studio of a basically unknown artist who sold dully colored stained glass windows – was small and unremarkable; a brown brick structure that rose awkwardly up from the sidewalk at a crooked angle. It hung over the street, as if the tenant rooms on the top floor were particularly heavy. It was nothing if not unimpressive.
But DreamCakes was not known for its location or building, which were anything but noteworthy. Even the indoor decorations were not notable – charming in a homely antique way, but not remarkable. The bakery only had two outstanding characteristics, but together they made it more famous than any of its individual aspects warranted.
DreamCakes always smelled wonderful – a scent beyond baked goods and savory pastries. It always smelt of happiness. That scent might have been baked into DreamCakes products, but it always seemed more likely that it was an integral part of the owner. Annette Haricot was a short woman, tiny and sprite-like, with corkscrew curls the color of melted chocolate. She never forgot a face and she met every new customer with a bright smile that shone bright in her coffee-colored eyes.
Within the crooked little building, among the antique furnishing, in her patterned aprons, Annette sparkled like a jewel, enhancing the intoxicating scent of the bakery’s goods. Once a person had been inside DreamCakes and chatted a moment with the vibrant owner, it was easy to see why the tiny bakery had become so famous.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Main Course Week: Constellations
Prompt: Andromeda Dane
Source: None
Response:
Andromeda watched the sun lower behind the brick wall that encircled the schoolyard and the constellations slowly peer out of the black night. The hard monkey bars pressed against his butt and thighs, a heavy, real weight. He longed for a cigarette, but his pack was in Cancer’s car.
He touched the gun on his belt briefly; it was right above the pocket where he usually kept his cigarettes. The 9 millimeter handgun was licensed, or at least that was what he had been told, but Gemini had been known to tell tall tales. Andromeda figured that it really did not matter. It would do the job, licensed or not.
He slid from the bars, swinging easily. He swallowed, remembering the clumsiness of his younger brother, happily dismounting the same bars. The memory seemed like it had occurred a thousand years before, almost as though Pisces had never existed. Andromeda touched the gun again, checking that it was there.
He walked off of the playground, hands clenched into fists. He was going to meet up with Orion later and they were going to avenge his brother. He was going to burn his name into the flesh of the man who stole his brother away. He could just imagine making his mark on the man's skin - twelve stars. He could almost see it in front of his eyes, the bright contrast of red and white flesh – Andromeda Dane.
Source: None
Response:
Andromeda watched the sun lower behind the brick wall that encircled the schoolyard and the constellations slowly peer out of the black night. The hard monkey bars pressed against his butt and thighs, a heavy, real weight. He longed for a cigarette, but his pack was in Cancer’s car.
He touched the gun on his belt briefly; it was right above the pocket where he usually kept his cigarettes. The 9 millimeter handgun was licensed, or at least that was what he had been told, but Gemini had been known to tell tall tales. Andromeda figured that it really did not matter. It would do the job, licensed or not.
He slid from the bars, swinging easily. He swallowed, remembering the clumsiness of his younger brother, happily dismounting the same bars. The memory seemed like it had occurred a thousand years before, almost as though Pisces had never existed. Andromeda touched the gun again, checking that it was there.
He walked off of the playground, hands clenched into fists. He was going to meet up with Orion later and they were going to avenge his brother. He was going to burn his name into the flesh of the man who stole his brother away. He could just imagine making his mark on the man's skin - twelve stars. He could almost see it in front of his eyes, the bright contrast of red and white flesh – Andromeda Dane.
Friday, January 7, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Firsties Week: Vaunt
Prompt: Vaunt
Source: None
Response:
The young local priest looked down at the newly-orphaned child, a shaking skinny boy with grimy untrimmed hair sitting on the very edge of the pew. The child stared at the floor, huddled in on himself. Vaunt was such a large name for such a sad, tiny child.
Source: None
Response:
The young local priest looked down at the newly-orphaned child, a shaking skinny boy with grimy untrimmed hair sitting on the very edge of the pew. The child stared at the floor, huddled in on himself. Vaunt was such a large name for such a sad, tiny child.
January 6, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Firsties Week: Teto
Prompt: Teto
Source: Name of a character in Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind
Response:
Like a meerkat, when he walked Teto stretched his neck upward, turning his head every which way as if looking out for danger.
Notes: Once again, due to internet problems and travel, I missed two days and, once again, I am excusing myself from penance . . .
Source: Name of a character in Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind
Response:
Like a meerkat, when he walked Teto stretched his neck upward, turning his head every which way as if looking out for danger.
Notes: Once again, due to internet problems and travel, I missed two days and, once again, I am excusing myself from penance . . .
January 5, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Firsties Week: Wales
Prompt: Wales
Source: None
Response:
Wales was fairly certain she had been named after the country, but with her mother's temperment and sense of humor, she really could not be certain. Her mother was forever trying on different perspectives as if they were gorgeous heels too expensive to buy. For all Wales knew, her mother could have been feeling "Native American" the day she was born and named her daughter the first thing that popped into her head - Wails.
Source: None
Response:
Wales was fairly certain she had been named after the country, but with her mother's temperment and sense of humor, she really could not be certain. Her mother was forever trying on different perspectives as if they were gorgeous heels too expensive to buy. For all Wales knew, her mother could have been feeling "Native American" the day she was born and named her daughter the first thing that popped into her head - Wails.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Firsties Week: Areli
Prompt: Areli
Source: None. Character profile format borrowed from the Character Creation Challenge (http://www.webook.com/project/The-Character-Creation-Challenge)
Response:
Name: Areli Vischaney
Age: 15
Birthplace: A grimy back alley deep within the city of Causeway's ghetto
Job: Pickpocket in a ring of child thieves
Most Admirable Action: He risked his life to rescue a starving street urchin from Causeway's police force, the Trackers
Least Admirable Action: He stole from a traveling priest, leaving the man with nothing
Greatest Fear: Being caught and tortured by the Trackers
Greatest Desire: To gather enough funds to escape Causeway and live in the country
Darkest Secret: He pockets most of his earnings instead of reporting them
One Sentence Philosophy on Life: Get them before they get you
Things that Would Drive Character to Tears: Nothing. Areli has not ever cried that he can remember
Things that Would Drive Character to Murder: Anything that threatens his life or freedom
Notes: Causeway is a city I created a long, long time ago which is filled with a multitude of unfinished stories and undeveloped characters, including the other members of Areli's thief "family".
Source: None. Character profile format borrowed from the Character Creation Challenge (http://www.webook.com/project/The-Character-Creation-Challenge)
Response:
Name: Areli Vischaney
Age: 15
Birthplace: A grimy back alley deep within the city of Causeway's ghetto
Job: Pickpocket in a ring of child thieves
Most Admirable Action: He risked his life to rescue a starving street urchin from Causeway's police force, the Trackers
Least Admirable Action: He stole from a traveling priest, leaving the man with nothing
Greatest Fear: Being caught and tortured by the Trackers
Greatest Desire: To gather enough funds to escape Causeway and live in the country
Darkest Secret: He pockets most of his earnings instead of reporting them
One Sentence Philosophy on Life: Get them before they get you
Things that Would Drive Character to Tears: Nothing. Areli has not ever cried that he can remember
Things that Would Drive Character to Murder: Anything that threatens his life or freedom
Notes: Causeway is a city I created a long, long time ago which is filled with a multitude of unfinished stories and undeveloped characters, including the other members of Areli's thief "family".
Monday, January 3, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Firsties Week: First Day of School
Prompt: Dzintra
Source: Name of a contestant on Next Food Network Star
Response:
Dzinta sighed as, for the fourth time in as many class periods, she was forced to correct her teacher's pronunciation, "The 'd' is silent. Zintra."
The teenager frowned as the teacher said it again, and mispronounced her last name.The one good thing about a name that no one could pronounce, she thought, was that they would always remember who she was. Even if they never could say her name right.
Source: Name of a contestant on Next Food Network Star
Response:
Dzinta sighed as, for the fourth time in as many class periods, she was forced to correct her teacher's pronunciation, "The 'd' is silent. Zintra."
The teenager frowned as the teacher said it again, and mispronounced her last name.The one good thing about a name that no one could pronounce, she thought, was that they would always remember who she was. Even if they never could say her name right.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
"Name of the Game" Month - Firsties Week: Wild
Prompt: Aphra
Source: None
Response:
Aphra crouched by the tiny pool of still water, peering into it. His hair brushed forward over his bare shoulders, stirring the surface. He could see his own reflection through the pond’s ripples, a lean, tired face and shoulders much broader than he remembered. The fingers that reached out to sweep his hair back were dirty and worn, scarred with labors he had preformed.
His reflection looked so wild, mangy almost. He combed his hands through his long black hair, straightening it a little, removing and retying the long feathers that hung there. He looked at himself again; he was rough, like a hungry wolf. He did not remember the last time he had spoken or seen another person. Aphra could not even recall the sound of his own name.
Source: None
Response:
Aphra crouched by the tiny pool of still water, peering into it. His hair brushed forward over his bare shoulders, stirring the surface. He could see his own reflection through the pond’s ripples, a lean, tired face and shoulders much broader than he remembered. The fingers that reached out to sweep his hair back were dirty and worn, scarred with labors he had preformed.
His reflection looked so wild, mangy almost. He combed his hands through his long black hair, straightening it a little, removing and retying the long feathers that hung there. He looked at himself again; he was rough, like a hungry wolf. He did not remember the last time he had spoken or seen another person. Aphra could not even recall the sound of his own name.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
January 1, 2011, "Name of the Game" Month - Firsties Week: Brightness
Prompt: Meora
Source: None. Definition from babynames.com
Response:
Meora knew her name meant light in Hebrew, but she did not understand why her parents had even considered it and she did not want to ask. Her skin was dark, her eyes were gray and she was quiet, shy. There was not very much light in her and even less Hebrew.
Notes: I'm considering my Weather Forecast my pennance for missing New Year's Day, but since it's already tomorrow morning expect the next prompt in a few(ish) hours.
Source: None. Definition from babynames.com
Response:
Meora knew her name meant light in Hebrew, but she did not understand why her parents had even considered it and she did not want to ask. Her skin was dark, her eyes were gray and she was quiet, shy. There was not very much light in her and even less Hebrew.
Notes: I'm considering my Weather Forecast my pennance for missing New Year's Day, but since it's already tomorrow morning expect the next prompt in a few(ish) hours.
Weather Forecast: January 2011, Name of the Game
I have decided to make January Name of the Game Month. I don't really have a specific inspiration, but I went on a name hunt for a character a few days ago and ended up gathering a few extra so I figured, why not? The month is going to progress week by week (and I'll explain again in the notes section of each week). Week one is Firsties Week: the prompts are all first names (which can be used as first names or something else entirely). Week two is Main Course Week in which every prompt is a first and middle or first and last name. The next week is Entitled Week: each prompt is a name (or names) and a title. And the final week chunk is The Whole Enchilada Week which may (or may not include) first, middle, and last names as well as titles. The unattached final three prompts are just name challenges that I find personally interesting.
I will try to get prompts up as regularly as possible, but as I have mentioned before, my adapter is broken. Luckily I have a backup computer which, despite its many flaws, should be able to get my prompts online.
January 1.Firsties Week: Meora
January 2.Firsties Week: Aphra
January 3.Firsties Week: Dzintra
January 4.Firsties Week: Areli
January 5.Firsties Week: Wales
January 6.Firsties Week: Teto
January 7.Firsties Week: Vaunt
January 8.Main Course Week: Andromeda Dane
January 9.Main Course Week: Annette Haricot
January 10.Main Course Week: Holly Danin
January 11.Main Course Week: Orca Lowry
January 12.Main Course Week: Scinema Aldrin
January 13.Main Course Week: Ava Kaul
January 14.Main Course Week: Symons Frontier
January 15.Entitled Week: Father Martagin
January 16.Entitled Week: Empress Elora
January 17.Entitled Week: Magistrate and Court Sorcerer Gratis
January 18.Entitled Week: High Lord Corenda
January 19.Entitled Week: Royal Tailor Niss
January 20.Entitled Week: Duke of Miant, Lord Garthim
January 21.Entitled Week: Chamberlain and Royal Vizier Amata
January 22.The Whole Enchilada Week: Queen Sybil of the House of Delinore
January 23.The Whole Enchilada Week: Rianne Sofia Garcia de Carson
January 24.The Whole Enchilada Week: Crown Princess Amalthea Johanesson
January 25.The Whole Enchilada Week: Plum
January 26.The Whole Enchilada Week: Madison Peter Hammerstein
January 27.The Whole Enchilada Week: Rosario Walden III
January 28.The Whole Enchilada Week: Shea Tart
January 29.Use the name of a car as a part of the name of a character.
January 30.Use a verb (in any tense, language or spelling) as the first name of a character.
January 31.Use the name of a kind of food as a part of a name.
I will try to get prompts up as regularly as possible, but as I have mentioned before, my adapter is broken. Luckily I have a backup computer which, despite its many flaws, should be able to get my prompts online.
January 1.Firsties Week: Meora
January 2.Firsties Week: Aphra
January 3.Firsties Week: Dzintra
January 4.Firsties Week: Areli
January 5.Firsties Week: Wales
January 6.Firsties Week: Teto
January 7.Firsties Week: Vaunt
January 8.Main Course Week: Andromeda Dane
January 9.Main Course Week: Annette Haricot
January 10.Main Course Week: Holly Danin
January 11.Main Course Week: Orca Lowry
January 12.Main Course Week: Scinema Aldrin
January 13.Main Course Week: Ava Kaul
January 14.Main Course Week: Symons Frontier
January 15.Entitled Week: Father Martagin
January 16.Entitled Week: Empress Elora
January 17.Entitled Week: Magistrate and Court Sorcerer Gratis
January 18.Entitled Week: High Lord Corenda
January 19.Entitled Week: Royal Tailor Niss
January 20.Entitled Week: Duke of Miant, Lord Garthim
January 21.Entitled Week: Chamberlain and Royal Vizier Amata
January 22.The Whole Enchilada Week: Queen Sybil of the House of Delinore
January 23.The Whole Enchilada Week: Rianne Sofia Garcia de Carson
January 24.The Whole Enchilada Week: Crown Princess Amalthea Johanesson
January 25.The Whole Enchilada Week: Plum
January 26.The Whole Enchilada Week: Madison Peter Hammerstein
January 27.The Whole Enchilada Week: Rosario Walden III
January 28.The Whole Enchilada Week: Shea Tart
January 29.Use the name of a car as a part of the name of a character.
January 30.Use a verb (in any tense, language or spelling) as the first name of a character.
January 31.Use the name of a kind of food as a part of a name.
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