Category: Four Elements Prompts

Prompts Unchained

This week, we took a little break from our chain story, Tune In Next Time, and instead posted a couple of dusty prompts that we found while tidying up in the Writing Cave. It’s interesting how different they are from what we’ve gotten used to as the chain has lengthened beyond all limits of sanity.

For one thing, they were created using the Four Elements generator, which tends to impose a bit of structure implicitly. After all, the scenario and the main character are two of the elements it dictates. On the other hand, it doesn’t create any requirements for using specific phrases, as does the Stichomancy generator. Thus, the end results tend to have a different flavor.

The biggest difference, though, is that these writing prompts were meant as standalone fiction. The episodic approach that we take with the chain story is deliberately pell-mell, and we make a game out of setting the next person up in a weird situation (not to mention our relentless pursuit of bonus points for incorporating the required phrases in order).

What really stood out about this week’s prompts was that they managed to have definite beginnings, middles, and endings without being any longer than our typical installments. Seeing them really took us back to the days when we’d use writing prompts to kick off our weekly critique meetings. Of course, even then we were prone to merging them collaboratively into one cohesive-ish story world. (In this case, by “we” we mean Jen.)

A writing partner is someone you like to write with, who likes to write with you back.

One Of The Lowly Slitherers

by KentWhile digging through folders full of old writing, we turned up some ancient prompts and decided to share them. We’ll return to the chain story next week.

  • Queen of the Snake People
  • the sleep lab
  • a severed thumb
  • I feel so stupid

One of the lowly slitherers should be doing this, thought Serpentina VII, High Queen over all who coil, slink, and strike. She walked up to the door of the darkened room, the unsavory packet in her right hand. The gold scales and interlocking jewels of her robes of state made sussurance in her wake, especially the long train that glided on the linoleum.

Opening the door, she whisked her robes into the room with practiced grace and softly closed it behind her to shut out the garish light of the hallway. The room was divided into small cubicles, and in each was a bed upon which a person slept. Wires attached to their faces trailed to machines that recorded mysterious electrical impulses. Their monitors provided the only illumination.

Serpentina VII looked into each cubicle she passed, hoping that her objective would be as self-evident as she presumed. But after checking all the sleepers, she’d found none with bandaged hands, and no blood or other signs of injury.

Granted, the return of the thumb would be purely symbolic. It had lain overnight on the flagstones outside the royal apartments, so any hope of reattaching it was futile. But Duke Poisonfang feared this incident might be seen as breaking the truce, and thus lead to open war with the cat people. He insisted that only the queen could avert such conflict, and his operatives provided the location for the return.

Queen Serpentina moved silently back to the door. This was the wrong place, but maybe the duke’s spies would have updated intel.

The door was locked.

All the machines’ monitors turned red. The sleepers sat up.

“A snake!” they all cried out as one. “Kill it!”

Serpentina smashed the glass and let herself out. She chided herself for ever listening to Poisonfang.

about four elements writing prompts

try our four elements writing prompt generator

I Boarded The Upper Level

by jenWhile digging through folders full of old writing, we turned up some ancient prompts and decided to share them. We’ll return to the chain story next week.

  • a shoplifter
  • the Eiffel Tower
  • a bucket of hair clippings
  • psychological experiment

I boarded the upper level of the double-decker elevator along with Professor Coiffeur and my fellow doctoral candidates from the psych department. My backpack was heavy and uncomfortable. When we reached the lower observation deck, we all exited the stuffy box. Most of the tourists stayed on the ride up to the top for a better view of the city. Professor Coiffeur moved over to the railing around the inner opening in a very businesslike manner, and waited for us to join him.

“We are all prepared, oui?” he asked.

“Oui oui!” we answered in unison. We were all very excited about today’s experiment.

“Then let us begin.”

The professor unzipped my pack and lifted the bucket out. Half of the grad students reached in and gathered huge handfuls of the hair clippings. The other half readied their cameras and notebooks.

On the professor’s command, those of us with fistfuls of hair began walking up to the tourists and offering it to them. The others made careful observations, hoping that the observed reactions would follow the predicted pattern.

Stage 2 of the experiment had us touching the hair to strangers’ cheeks without asking permission. That went as poorly as expected and we quickly moved to Stage 3 which entailed upending the bucket over the railing, dumping all of the remaining hair clippings down on the unsuspecting crowds below, and observing the chaos.

It was a very satisfying day of scientific enquiry. To reward myself for devising such a successful experiment, I pocketed an Eiffel Tower key ring for every member of the team on my way back to the elevators, plus some chocolate for myself.

about four elements writing prompts

try our four elements writing prompt generator

“I Have To Say”

  • by KentA lamp in the fashion of a silver dove
  • grunty, sweaty practice sessions in front of the mirror
  • gotten even bigger — bigger!
  • the color of duck l’orange
  • “Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!”

Tune in next time part 672      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“I have to say,” said Fleur, “your antics of late have tried even my patience. Here, put this on.” She passed me a garment bag, inside which I found a Contrarian military uniform of some kind. It was much fancier than my previous one, though. It had spiked epaulets, and fringed boots. A lamp in the fashion of a silver dove dangled from a rod in the brim of the hat. As I found my way into it, Fleur explained that I had been nominated in absentia to lead the stand-up comedy branch of her country’s armed forces.

Weapons-grade wisecracks called for extreme conditioning, and I groaned at the thought of endless grunty, sweaty practice sessions in front of the mirror. Soon darkness bathed the limo, and I thought we had entered a tunnel. But it was just the shadow of the royal zeppelin, which somehow had gotten even bigger — bigger! The tail section was painted the color of duck l’orange, with the Contrarian coat of arms plastered over it.

Fleur spoke into a walkie talkie. “Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!” At this code phrase, a platform was lowered from the belly of the zeppelin. The limo drove onto it, and it reeled us in.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

The Car with the Offensive Stereo

  • by jenquintuple elbows
  • if I may be so bold
  • against her palms
  • they take their shoes off
  • still shrieking at her husband

Tune in next time part 671      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The car with the offensive stereo pulled up at the curb, bass notes so ferocious they shattered all the chalet’s windows. In the ensuing chaos, I worked to free myself from the straps holding me to the gurney. You know how some people are double-jointed? Well, I have quintuple elbows.

As soon as my feet hit the snow, I dashed toward the street. Who cared if I was naked apart from the pantyhose on my head? I had to get away.

The limo, for that’s what was making all the noise, had speakers mounted all over the exterior. I zigged to the right to go behind it, hands clamped over my ears. The chauffeur stepped out wearing enormous noise-canceling headphones, and snagged me by the hosiery. With his other hand he opened the back door, then he tossed me inside and slammed it closed.

Inside the limo was blessedly quiet, although I could still feel Jason’s throbbing music in my bones. A female voice said, “If I may be so bold,” and suddenly the nylon sheath was removed from my head. I could see clearly! And what I saw was my wife, Fleur. She held my face in her hands to stare at me, my cheeks hot and clammy against her palms.

“Fleur!” I didn’t know what to say. So much had happened in the past few days that would infuriate any wife. Any normal wife, anyway.

“You know what most civilized people do when getting into a limousine?” Fleur huffed. “They take their shoes off.”

My feet, along with the rest of me, were bare. Fleur pinched her nostrils closed. “You reek of butterscotch pudding and icicle slugs. The first thing we’ll do once we board the zeppelin is toss you in the shower.”

She pushed a button and told the chauffeur to drive, and just like that I made my escape from the reality TV ghouls, the creepy Alchemist, and Valentina — still shrieking at her husband in the ceiling about whatever odd thing she smelled.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

I Could Still Taste the Slug

  • by jenhad sex with the devil in exchange for magical powers
  • a Grade IV erection
  • very diabolical piece of
  • pantyhose on his head
  • spitting with impunity

Tune in next time part 663      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I could still taste the slug, or perhaps it was the PA’s fingers. I turned my head and spat into the wastebasket. Twice.

“There is no spitting with impunity on my set,” the voice from the ceiling said. “Put the pantyhose on his head.”

I was so distracted by the idea that anyone these days would have pantyhose on demand that I failed to dodge Dr Ferguson. Before I knew what hit me, my face was smooshed inside the tube of sheer fabric held in place by a very diabolical piece of knot-tying artistry.

“I think you like that,” Dr Ferguson cooed, trailing her fingers down my torso. “This is a Grade IV erection at least.”

“We can’t proceed until he reaches Grade VII,” ceiling-voice said.

“Luckily,” Dr Ferguson breathed into my ear, “I had sex with the devil in exchange for magical powers of seduction.”

And then she did something astounding with her hand that I am at a loss to describe.

bonus points for using them in reverse order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Brady, Of Course, Hadn’t Known

  • by Kentthe blackest ink
  • and tater tots on Tuesdays
  • “Yeah, that sucks, buddy.”
  • that the ginger chef insisted on
  • I am a man with a refined palate

Tune in next time part 516      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Brady, of course, hadn’t known I was aware of his affiliation with Jorgensen. He was as surprised as Scrim, his eyes bugging over cheeks smeared with mascara dark as the blackest ink available for calligraphic pen refills. While he was still in shock, I took advantage of Brady’s foot injury and the fact that Scrim’s knees didn’t bend to dash off into the garden without being pursued.

I hoped to find nurse Marnie, but the garden was like a maze. Around the third turning between towering, flowering hedges, I encountered a sort of clearing that was being used as an outdoor kitchen. Several large tables were configured for prep zones, and people in white jackets and toques scurried about stirring the contents of kettles suspended over bonfires.

“Did a nurse just ride a bear through here?” I asked.

“Don’t think so,” a red-haired cook said. “But it’s possible we wouldn’t notice, because we’re so busy. We have to prepare casseroles and desserts and salads every day, and tater tots on Tuesdays.”

I sighed. “Yeah, that sucks, buddy.”

“Now please clear out. You’re distracting my staff!” Hollandaise sauce flew off the wooden spoon that the ginger chef insisted on waving around as he spoke. “Or, at least keep quiet. I am a man with a refined palate and a short temper.”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Helga Concealed Herself

  1. k-avatarcharacter –bigfoot
  2. setting — dry dock
  3. object –wooden shoes
  4. situation –wet t-shirt contest

Helga concealed herself below the experimental hydrofoil in the dry dock. Stowing away on it in Seattle had been the only way for her to reach Holland undetected, preserving the secrecy of her woodland race. But the next stage in her mission would require that she show herself, in fact the magic tulip bulbs would only be given to the winner of the wet t-shirt contest. And to be allowed into the waterfront dive where the Dutch National Wet Tee Convention would be held, she had to first obtain the traditional footwear. She hoped she could find them in her size.

about 4 elements writing prompts

handy dandy writing prompt generator

I Led Tessa Outside

  1. by jenCharacter – Harajuku girl
  2. Setting – behind the wheel of a large automobile
  3. Object – keys
  4. Situation – hiccups

Tune In Next Time Part 12                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

I led Tessa outside and balanced her on the handlebars of my stolen bicycle as I pedaled through the dark city to the self-storage facility where my excavation machine was stored, along with the rest of my inventions. Things were improving between us, but I didn’t fully trust Tessa. I couldn’t imagine letting her get a look at the contents of my storage unit, so I left her in the office, talking to the night manager, a Japanese woman with bright pink hair, cat ears and a parasol.

The submersible digging machine was far too bulky to carry on the bike, so when I hurried back to the office I asked Michiko if I could borrow her car. She charged me $200 and tossed me the keys. Tessa hadn’t run off during my brief absence, which both pleased and frightened me. The two of us climbed into Michiko’s Hello Kitty-bedazzled Lincoln Continental, me behind the wheel, Tessa riding shotgun but twisted around to stare at the mechanical wonder in the back seat.

As I navigated back to the pier, Tessa gave a loud hiccup, and then another. She turned around to face front and hiccuped again. I knew those hiccups well. Tessa always had an attack when she was horny.

“Now’s not a good time, babe,” I said.

“I — hic — know,” she said. “And that only makes it — hic — worse.”

about 4 elements writing prompts

4 elements writing prompt generator

Sheets of Flame Enveloped Every Surface

  1. k-avatarCharacter – pimp
  2. Setting – Hell
  3. Object – baseball card collection
  4. Situation – amnesia

Sheets of flame enveloped every surface, including the bubbling black tar of the river.

“I don’t remember how I got here,” I said to the tall, goat-headed person beside me.

“That’s normal,” the demon replied. “Which is too bad, because the dimensional transit vortex is really bitchin’.”

“The spinning tunnel of sulfurous lightning? Oh I remember that part,” I said. “I meant in a philosophical sense. As in, what did I do that was so terrible?”

“Ah!” Goat-Head brayed. “Tasty. Existential dread added to the other forms of torment! You’re gonna be a celebrity down here.”

“Maybe I can figure it out,” I said.

“Oh, I hope not.”

“Let’s see. I stole my sister’s baseball card collection…”

“That’s a first. But no, that’s not the reason.”

“I had a stable of skanky hos, sold their asses all up and down the north side. And I was looking to expand my territory, which come to think of it is probably what got me killed.”

“I’ve been a loyal customer for years. That’s not it.”

“Really? I was sure that would be the answer.”

“You were a businessman. The big guy doesn’t hold that against you.”

“Well, then what is it? Why did I get sent to Hell?”

Goat-Face grinned. “You’ll thank me someday for not telling you. Things get a bit monotonous after a century or two, and that question will be all that still interests you.”

I looked at him. His words made a kind of twisted sense, even if his breath was a roadkilled skunk in late July. “Thanks,” I said. “You’re okay in my book.”

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. “If I get fired from this job, I’ll have to move back in with my mom.”

about 4 elements writing prompts

handy dandy writing prompt generator