The moderator of a forum for humans, aliens, and sentient AI’s discovers a sentient in danger.
Due to the nature of this post, written in HTML formatting to mimic online forums, I had to make a choice. Either the whole HTML-formatted story can be presented on the main page as a preview, or none of it. With the prompt here to describe the story somewhat, I opted to keep this page orderly.
Continue reading “Sentences from Sentience”Write a story where the reader is actively involved in the story.
I waited. So long, it seems, that I waited. Then, light fell upon my pages once more. It must have been years. The child who once looked at my illustrations in wonder had grown.
It seems like you were ready to learn the truth behind the pretty pictures. You were more than you were. You had focus and commitment, and instead of touching the surface of the worlds within me you delved deeply. You immersed yourself in paper and ink and I regaled you with wonders. I told you about heroes and villains, of good men corrupted, bad men redeemed. I taught you about triumph and victory, failure and defeat, how to heal men and how to break them. I taught you the difference between fighting and battle, about friendship and about comrades and romance and betrayal and good and evil. I raised you within multitudes of worlds.
Then the darkness came again.
I waited. So long, it seems, that I waited. Then, light fell upon my pages once more. It must have been years. The teenager that I had raised among so many worlds was old, now. But the child in the bed was not. This child looked on in wonder, as you once did.
“Once upon a time . . . ”
In the year 2017, all guns stopped functioning. Any ranged weapons much more advanced than crossbows simply fall apart upon completion. 200 years later nothing has changed. Describe the arsenal of the futuristic knight, and what a battle might look like.
An editorial note: This is going to get a little technical. I focused on the arsenal, not the battle, not adhering strictly to the prompt. There’s little story here, except the story of a craftsman excelling in his field. This is my indulgence in engineering weirdness.
Some people will enjoy that – others will find this entry mired in useless detail. Both of these readers would be correct.
The Hammer
I turned the last screw again until the seam vanished and the chamber was sealed. I picked up the empty magazine and began loading cartridges in. The explosive charge was a little more intense than the guns of ages past would be. The chamber of this weapon was robust enough to withstand it. Instead of a bullet, each cartridge was merely crimped to contain the charge. Finally, I loaded the last cartridge and slid the magazine into the port. It slid into a slot carved into the back of the hammer until the back and bottom of the magazine laid flush. I pulled the slide on the top of the warhammer back, chambering the first round.
Your main character is a Tree. An oak, if you are undecided, otherwise, your choice.
For centuries I’d stood in close company with many others like me. My companions made many demands. I had taken root in rocky soil, and they all wanted to drink from the earth. It was not easy to live with so many hungry companions, some much taller, reaching much deeper than I.
After the Infestation, times were not so lean. The others were fewer, and the land thus richer. It was the first time I had been thankful for woodpeckers; they dug into my flesh, but they also ate the pests that threatened me. For a long time after that, I drank from the earth and spread my arms to the sun. Though the children of the lost grew and crowded once more, I was already tall and broad. My leaves spread wide, and my roots spread deep, breaking the rock apart beneath me to reach deeper, richer sources.
A housecat’s human learning to hunt, from the cat’s point of view.
“CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!” My human whipped out a strange device before my shocked eyes, and slammed it down, piercing his prey’s tin hide. He closed the device – like teeth – and it began to chew.
“O! PEN! ER!”
With each syllable, he twisted the device, mauling his prey’s hide further, then he peeled back the tin skin. He hefted the can into the air and slammed it down over my food dish. He snapped his wrist back, leaving behind the prey’s flesh. He tipped his head back and screamed in victory.
Prompt Inspired 