Monday, September 06, 2010

Make It Up Monday #3

The name of the game is "Make It Up Monday," and the rules are as follows:

Every Monday, I am going to post a picture that I have found somewhere on the interwebs.
Take a look at the picture - I mean really look at it - and write down in the comment form a response to it.
It doesn't have to be super long or anything (but it can be as long as you want), just a few words even will do.
I will post information about the picture, but it is up to you whether you use it or not. If you want to completely disregard  the info I provide and come up with something completely original, then go for it!
For example, if a person is in the photo, what is he or she thinking?
What was going on directly before the picture was taken?
What's going to happen after?
Or, if you like captions, write a caption for the picture.
Easy as pie.

My only request is that you keep it marginally clean. Nothing that is purposefully offensive or rude, s'il vous plait! I believe that every word in the English language has a place for use (including the 4-letter ones), but please don't use them gratuitously. Just in general be classy about whatever you write.

All games have winners, right? Well, this one is no different. I and a small team of super qualified judges (aka my awesome family) will look at all the submissions and pick out our favorite. Depending on how many people enter, we will pick between 1 and 10 entries, and on Friday at approximately 5pm I will post the winner(s) with his/her/their submission(s) and a link to his/her/their blog(s). Free publicity! Wooo!!!

Always remember, have fun with your writing. Don't force it and just enjoy getting your thoughts out on paper (er... or computer screen?).

I will post my response in the comments section along with you guys, but it won't be added onto the list of submissions.

Here we go!

Click the image for a bigger view.
Peace.
Stef.

29 comments:

carmar76 said...

Steampunk Mutiny.

erjames40 said...

They are mad because of all of the crazy and weird inventions that the guy had made. The man with the sword is probably mad because one of his inventions has to action to him. They are trying to kill him because he won't stop making the inventions whenever they tell him too. They are fed up with all of the problems.

Sorry, It is a little far fetched though.

Our Life In A Caravan said...

Londons newest high tech financial fraud squad finally catch up with the city broker who has been misleading everyone into thinking we are coming out of a recession caused by Gordon Brown in the year 2010. The year now is 2180

Ana Jonessy said...

Why, hello..! Came across your blog and instantly fell in love with your ideas! I am very much interested with your writing project and would love to hop on aboard, if you don't mind.

(:

Rachel said...

Gionove was, simply put, a theater junkie. His latest venture journeyed into the world of steam punkery, complete with gold-adorned everything. The theater was usually generous enough to provide their moderately sized casts with costumes, although the actors were always persuaded to construct their own, if they had the means to.

“Dear… Lord!”

The actor in question was discovering how potentially hazardous his own creation was while pedaling at 15 miles an hour on busy downtown streets. The backpack he fashioned to be some sort of energy source for his elaborate gizmos was huge and hulking and with the slightest turn threatened to throw him off the bike. Alas, as he hopped onto a sidewalk and slipped off the bike, it was of his own accord to make sure it was locked tight for the afternoon.

Eager to show off his handmade wares, Gionove rushed around the corner and ran smack into half of the cast. The immediate thought that came to mind was not an apology, but rather on how fantastic their costumes were. As soon as his jaw slipped open in awe and wonder, he found himself at the end of four weapons raised in one simultaneous motion.

“Very nice,” he murmured, the actor’s eye flashing to the glittering gold of the sword that was held closest to his neck. It took a minute longer for Gionove’s eye to follow the arm of its holder, where he found a man decked in military ware and whose face he did not recognize.

Taking a half step back, Gionove realized he did not recognize any of these people. Not the girl in the red peering at him curiously, not the short-fuse of a military man, nor the man in the suit holding a gun to his chest, not even the final woman whose dress he admired most, holding what appeared to be a small cannon at his face.

“Surely I’m not being…mugged,” Gionove choked out after a minute of staring silently. “This stuff isn’t worth anything, I made it myself…I’ve got very little in my wallet…” He started to reach for it, and the man in the suit fired just shy of his wrist when he made a move for his pocket.

Gionove loved theater, the limelight and the act, but as his face twisted into a pained grimace, he began to realize he had no idea how to act in the real world. Frozen into place, he looked between the four again.

The military man lowered his blade in the slightest. The others followed suit. Who was obviously the leader stepped a few paces closer, threw a narrow glare at the man wielding a smoking gun, and then cleared his throat. “Giovone, we are not from this time. However, we would greatly appreciate it if you were to join us in our return home.”

Giovone uttered a laugh simply out of reaction. In reality, the adrenaline pouring into his blood was screaming for him to run the other way. His muscles began to ache when panic suddenly flashed to life in his eyes. Not only were these people muggers, they were positively insane. He began to wonder why no one had stopped to help him, when he then realized the passers-by might think it just an act. They were only standing feet away from the theater entrance after all.

Then there was a bang and a flash and a whole hell of a lot of smoke, and Gionove’s senses were lost behind a veil of blackness. The woman closest to him knelt to catch his unconscious figure before he completely crumpled. She barked a cry of, “What? Did you want to tell him he’s the leader of the free world as we know it and he’s got no choice?” and tossed her used weapon aside.

The men exchanged skeptical glances while the woman behind them shrugged. In a high voice she concluded, “At least we found him alive. Now getting him home and explaining ourselves to the officials…that’s going to be a whole ‘nother thing.”

Summer Ross said...

"Touche monsieur pussy cat!"

dorksandjerks said...

Just laugh at the the fools that killed you, they're the punch-line of your life. Because the joke they made on you shows that you don't take life seriously. Let your death bring upon joy and not mourning. To die with humor is die with style, a grand exit.

nofoolwiser said...

The Artificer smiled at them. "And what will you do if I say yes, Admiral? Stick me like a pig? That sword's a pretty thing. You wouldn't want to get it discolored." He glanced at the Scarlet Lady. "Et tu, dear sister? And what will you do? You always preferred a softer weapon, I recall..."

"I'd count it an even prettier thing," said the Admiral, "with your blood smeared on it." His haughty sneer lengthened. "And my lady wife is uninterested in your words, I think."

The Artificer guffawed. "Your lady wife? She's slept with more of the Navy than you've commanded, Admiral. Or can you not see that, even with your ever-so-special eye?" His own eye shifted to the Mercenary and the Maid. "And why did you bring your dogs to the fight?" He snapped the fingers of his left hand, and the Mercenary's pipe exploded. His eyes widened for a moment, and then he burst into flame.

The Maid released her pressure gun reflexively, and as the wall of steam rushed forward, the Artificer raised one finger. The steam vanished.

The Mercenary had run already, screaming like a demon, and the Maid took off as well, screeching something about witches and monsters.

The Artificer leveled his stare at the Admiral and the Scarlet Lady. "So much better."

The Admiral's face contorted, and the red gleam of his eyescope brightened and swirled. His sword began to glow red.

"This would be somewhat more impressive if you knew how to use your tool, Admiral," said the Artificer, as he pinched the blade between two fingers. The red glow disappeared, and the pretty blade cracked, then split in two. "Practice does make perfect, I'm told." He turned his eyescope to look directly in the Admiral's eye, and smiled. The other man's knees shook, then buckled, as he fell to the ground.

He turned and began to walk away, his eerie smile widening as he felt his sister's gun at the small of his back.

"Oh, do pull the trigger, little sister," he said. "Can you? You never did enjoy blood. Remember the first time you killed a man? Oh...that's right. You couldn't. You'd rather warm them than shoot them. I seem to remember that being the reason the Artisans never wanted you. Not to study, anyway..."

"Things can change," the Scarlet Lady said, but her gun didn't fire. "I don't need anything marked with the Stars to kill you."

"You're quite right. You'd need much more. Your dear husband had the mark on his sword and his eyescope, and you see how much that was worth." He took off his hat and stared at the golden badge on the rim. "Yes, much more than the Stars. Much more than a gun. You'd need to be more than human, I think."

The Scarlet Lady twisted the tube, and a ball of superheated plasma rushed through. It punched past the Artificer's bone, and skin, and muscle, and came buzzing out the other side. Her brother turned.

"Do you see? You'll need more than that." He pulled the energizer box off his back, and set down the plasma rifle. "Bullets, steel, heat, light...the Artisans were more than you could have imagined, dear sister. I am much more than a man. Much more than even one of the Angels, I think. Perhaps I have beaten death."

He looked her in the eye. "Or perhaps I simply don't remember it anymore. I suspect it amounts to the same thing."

His eyescope gleamed, and his little sister fell backwards against the wall. Her eyes turned black as coal, and she screamed. When she opened her mouth, everything inside was black. The Artificer looked into the blackness, and the blackness looked back.

"Ah. I see." And he killed her.

And the Artificer walked away.

nofoolwiser said...

The Artificer smiled at them. "And what will you do if I say yes, Admiral? Stick me like a pig? That sword's a pretty thing. You wouldn't want to get it discolored." He glanced at the Scarlet Lady. "Et tu, dear sister? And what will you do? You always preferred a softer weapon, I recall..."

"I'd count it an even prettier thing," said the Admiral, "with your blood smeared on it." His haughty sneer lengthened. "And my lady wife is uninterested in your words, I think."

The Artificer guffawed. "Your lady wife? She's slept with more of the Navy than you've commanded, Admiral. Or can you not see that, even with your ever-so-special eye?" His own eye shifted to the Mercenary and the Maid. "And why did you bring your dogs to the fight?" He snapped the fingers of his left hand, and the Mercenary's pipe exploded. His eyes widened for a moment, and then he burst into flame.

The Maid released her pressure gun reflexively, and as the wall of steam rushed forward, the Artificer raised one finger. The steam vanished.

The Mercenary had run already, screaming like a demon, and the Maid took off as well, screeching something about witches and monsters.

The Artificer leveled his stare at the Admiral and the Scarlet Lady. "So much better."

The Admiral's face contorted, and the red gleam of his eyescope brightened and swirled. His sword began to glow red.

"This would be somewhat more impressive if you knew how to use your tool, Admiral," said the Artificer, as he pinched the blade between two fingers. The red glow disappeared, and the pretty blade cracked, then split in two. "Practice does make perfect, I'm told." He turned his eyescope to look directly in the Admiral's eye, and smiled. The other man's knees shook, then buckled, as he fell to the ground.

He turned and began to walk away, his eerie smile widening as he felt his sister's gun at the small of his back.

"Oh, do pull the trigger, little sister," he said. "Can you? You never did enjoy blood. Remember the first time you killed a man? Oh...that's right. You couldn't. You'd rather warm them than shoot them. I seem to remember that being the reason the Artisans never wanted you. Not to study, anyway..."

"Things can change," the Scarlet Lady said, but her gun didn't fire. "I don't need anything marked with the Stars to kill you."

"You're quite right. You'd need much more. Your dear husband had the mark on his sword and his eyescope, and you see how much that was worth." He took off his hat and stared at the golden badge on the rim. "Yes, much more than the Stars. Much more than a gun. You'd need to be more than human, I think."

The Scarlet Lady twisted the tube, and a ball of superheated plasma rushed through. It punched past the Artificer's bone, and skin, and muscle, and came buzzing out the other side. Her brother turned.

"Do you see? You'll need more than that." He pulled the energizer box off his back, and set down the plasma rifle. "Bullets, steel, heat, light...the Artisans were more than you could have imagined, dear sister. I am much more than a man. Much more than even one of the Angels, I think. Perhaps I have beaten death."

He looked her in the eye. "Or perhaps I simply don't remember it anymore. I suspect it amounts to the same thing."

His eyescope gleamed, and his little sister fell backwards against the wall. Her eyes turned black as coal, and she screamed. When she opened her mouth, everything inside was black. The Artificer looked into the blackness, and the blackness looked back.

"Ah. I see." And he killed her.

And the Artificer walked away.

Belle said...

"I said I was sorry."

December said...

Enjoy this excercise Steph - my caption is for the big pic with the people confronting the man (not sure if "Here we go" is that title or not)

My caption for this:

Great Scott! They’ve found my stash of toaster pastry strudels.

Musicmovielover14 said...

*at a nerd convention*
Guy with sword: You stole my pocket protector and I want it back! Give it back to me or I will cut your throat open.
Guy with hat: I have no idea what you are talking about so therefore I can not give it back to you. Whatever a pocket protector is!

Blessed Rain said...

Last girl, "How dare you take my compass!"

Guy with pipe "How could you put your name on ,my invention!"

Officer, "Your under arrest for such a bad disguise!"

Girl with microphone in her hands, "How does this make you feel?"

Guy is just stunned that they all found him at the same time.

Murray said...

The famous five undergo a gok wan transformation

http://sigveberland.blogspot.com said...

Hey, just passing by to see what's up, click on your stuff and look around a bit, nice blog you've got here :-)

Poetic Pontifications said...

"I say, good sir, your anachronistic eye piece is most offensive. Off with it, or I shall dispatch you in a trice."

City Girl in the Desert said...

"Listen guy, the jig is up. Your crime fighting days are over unless you tell us who you really love."

"Does it matter, looks like I'm done either way. Did I mention that you all hold as special place in my heart."

JilliannFacts said...

"Thou shalt not speaketh of Irma."

Clearly, Irma is the most beautiful creature in the world, with six heads, twelve noses, eighteen tongues, and twenty four eyes.

Angela Baarz said...

It was Miss Scarlet, with the flashlight, in front of the wall.

DKTL Peoples said...

The time machine had been invented! The idiot scientist rounded the corner only to find he failed miserably!

Katz0001 said...

"Yeah, yeah. I know my inventor's costume is more embarassing than all of your's. But you didn't have to rub it in!"

Kev D. said...

It isn't always fun and games at these conventions. Shortly after stepping out of character and commenting on William "Burgendy Dress" Stevenson's Adam's Apple, Chistopher Fannywench was sentenced to death by pretend sword and make-believe lightning. After several hours of pouting and sobbing, eventually Christopher's mother picked him up, and the rest of the gang decided to get some tacos. As you may or may not know, tacos are the food of choice for most wizards and goblins.

Gabi said...

"Alright, no more Ms. Nice Girl. We said it to last night at precisely 9:00 PM, and then you ran away from us."
"You little good-fer-nuthin. We've been chasing you since. It's 8:00 AM now."
"We'll repeat ourselves one more time, sir. You best listen."
"We said: TRICK OR TREAT!"

Maundering mutterer said...

'It was him! He's the one who said we'd be inconspicuous looking like this! Next time, someone else does the research before we visit other worlds!'


Enjoying your blog madly, Stef, and was never more surprised than I was when I saw you chose my little story last week! Thanks for that.

Consistently Inconsistent said...

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but as she stood staring at the photo tacked to the cafeteria bulletin board, feeling her anger rising and the blood rushing to her cheeks, Dalilah could only find five. "I'm going to kill her," she fumed silently. "I'm going to kill her, and I won't even feel bad about it."

T. A. Ritchie said...

Even as Gage's life seemed to be hanging by a thread, he was distracted.
"9...8...7" He ticked the months back in his mind, "3...2... dammit, it is mine!"
Gage had never thought of 'shotgun wedding' so literally.

Lolamouse said...

“I’m not sure where to begin. There’s a group of four people dressed in Victorian looking clothes, but not totally. One has goggles, and one of the guys has gel in his hair. They approach another guy, also dressed in Victorian-type clothes, on the street. He’s got some sort of weird eye piece and a hat. He’s carrying something on his back. The group confronts him and demands his hat! I don’t know why. The guy with the hat and eyepiece says that he’d rather die like a mongrel dog on the street than give them his hat. Then the guy in the military uniform pulls out a sword and says, ‘So be it!’ That’s when I woke up. What do you think it means?”

“Hmm, we don’t really do much dream interpretation any more, but how have you been sleeping?”

“Fine, I guess.”

“Any other side-effects or issues you’ve noticed?”

“No…”

“Well then, sounds like you’re doing well. Let’s continue on the same dose and I’ll see you again in a month.”

Letty said...

some moments in life can be summed up by a single four letter word, this he felt, was one of them.

M. A. S. said...

“God, please grant this single prayer. Transform that shiny plastic pencil into a real sword and run it right through my sorry windpipe before I draw on more useless breath. Amen.”
I don’t even know if I said it out loud, but when I opened my eyes, I was still an imbecile among morons, wondering when exactly I had jumped the shark. This crap wasn’t acting. This wouldn’t even be a decent puppet show. I will gladly choose death over even the thought of one more performance with Captain One-Eyed Paisley Sleeves and his band of never-have-beens.
That’s when the idea ran across my brain like a headline:
Former mayor dies in bizarre freak show accident in front of thousands
OK, more likely, just in front of these dumb hack actors and the parents they live with. But I’m doing it.
“God, I’m doing it. Unless you do it first.”

Related Posts

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...