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[personal profile] ysabetwordsmith posting in [community profile] crowdfunding
Welcome to the thirty-first Crowdfunding Creative Jam! This session will run Saturday, July 19-Sunday, July 20. The theme is "Conflicts Where No One Is Wrong." (Visit the Creative Jam over on LiveJournal.)


Crowdfunding Creative Jam

Everyone is eligible to post prompts, which may be words or phrases, titles, images, etc. Prompters may request a specific creator, but everyone else may still use that prompt if they wish. Prompts may specify a particular character/world/etc. but creators may use the prompt for something else anyway and post the results. Prompters are still encouraged to post mostly prompts that anyone could use anywhere, as this maximizes the chance of having creators make something based on your prompt. Please title your comment "Prompt" or "Prompts" when providing inspiration so these are easy to find.

Prompt responses may also be treated as prompts and used for further inspiration. For example, a prompt may lead to a sketch which leads to a story, and so on. This kind of cascading inspiration is one of the most fun things about a collective jam session.

Everyone is eligible to use prompts, and everyone who wants to use a given prompt may do so, for maximum flexibility of creator choice in inspiration. You do not have to post a "Claim" reply when you decide to use a prompt, but this does help indicate what is going on so that other prompters can spread out their choice of prompts if they wish.

Creators are encouraged, but not required, to post at least one item free. Likewise, sharing a private copy of material with the prompter is encouraged but not required. Creative material resulting from prompts should be indicated in a reply to the prompt, with a link to the full content elsewhere on the creator's site (if desired); a brief excerpt and/or description of the material may be included in the reply (if desired). It helps to title your comment "Prompt Filled" or something like that so these are easy to identify. There is no time limit on responding to prompts. However, creators are encouraged to post replies sooner rather than later, as the attention of prompters will be highest during and shortly after the session.

Some items created from prompts may become available for sponsorship. Some creators may offer perks for donations, linkbacks, or other activity relating to this project. Check creator comments and links for their respective offerings.

Prompters, creators, and bystanders are expected to behave in a responsible and civil manner. If the moderators have to drag someone out of the sandbox for improper behavior, we will not be amused. Please respect other people's territory and intellectual property rights, and only play with someone else's characters/setting/etc. if you have permission. (Fanfic/fanart freebies are okay.) If you want to invite folks to play with something of yours, title the comment something like "Open Playground" so it's easy to spot. This can be a good way to attract new people to a shared world or open-source project, or just have some good non-canon fun.

Boost the signal! The more people who participate, the more fun this will be. Hopefully we'll see activity from a lot of folks who regularly mention their projects in this community, but new people are always welcome. You can link to this session post or to individual items created from prompts, whatever you think is awesome enough to recommend to your friends.

To Fight Like Brother and Sister

Date: 2014-07-20 05:31 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] moriwen1
To Fight Like Brother and Sister

Some more messing around in the Nebula's Heart universe. I decided Sinéad and Paul were childhood friends.

Re: Prompts

Date: 2014-07-21 03:17 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] chordatesrock
From your prompt, I have written The Dragon We Feed, my freebie for this Creative Jam. A village is acquainted with two dragons, one kindly and one greedy. But just chasing away the hungry dragon isn't the best idea.

Re: Prompts

Date: 2014-07-21 06:21 pm (UTC)
alexconall: the Pleiades (Default)
From: [personal profile] alexconall
Your title prompt "The Wolf We Feed" inspired a poem of that name, rethinking the familiar story evoked by that title.

Open Playground: Nine for the Nebula's Heart

Date: 2014-07-19 12:31 pm (UTC)
alexseanchai: Katsuki Yuuri wearing a blue jacket and his glasses and holding a poodle, in front of the asexual pride flag with a rainbow heart inset. (Default)
From: [personal profile] alexseanchai
[community profile] nineforthenebulasheart is a collaborative-canon fantasy quest story available for writing and creating in. Core canon, contributor guidelines, masterlist of works, and do not feel shy about participation even if you don't know anything but the core canon because fanworks and multiple contradictory canons are totally a thing.

Volunteer writer

Date: 2014-07-19 02:39 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
I'm [personal profile] dialecticdreamer, and if you post a prompt, there /will/ be a reply of at least drabble length. (If you post three, I'll pick the one which resonates most).

I had so much fun with it last time, I just had to participate again!

Terramagne prompt: Howl's First Lesson

Date: 2014-07-19 03:12 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
On the first day of his visit, Aidan spent the morning getting to know Nathaniel and the back yard in about equal measure, letting the boy come investigate him as he measured the yard, the small patio proportions, the circumference of the tree, and, to make the boy laugh, the circumference of the boy himself with his arms held wide above his head. Hannah stayed visible nearby, making a list of the plants she wanted for the greenhouse.

When Nathaniel's senses inevitably fluctuated, Aidan offered first open arms , then an open, soothing mental space to quiet the little one's nerves. He hummed almost silently, rocking on his heels, which added to the senses Nathaniel had to process, even as he imagined them as water overfilling a cup to splash all over his mental memory house.

He carried Nathaniel into the kitchen, carefully and slowly filling a plastic cup with a finger-width stream of water until it too overflowed, into the sink. He stood, one hand under the faucet, the other resting lightly on the boy's back as little lungs pumped jerkily. Finally, a small hand pushed Aidan's darker one out from under the flow of water, even as the fine eyebrows studied the still-full cup. He reached, clumsily tipping some of the water out.

Aidan set the boy on the counter, his feet in the second well of the sink, and slipped off the tiny shoes and socks before giving Nathaniel the full cup of water and waiting for the inevitable. Torn between curiosity and distraction, the boy hardly noticed when Hannah moved to stand sentry, close enough to catch him if needed, and watched as he tried to pour only a little water out of the cup.

“Let him work on that until he's bored; he's going to need a really good grasp of the concept before learning to manage his senses. Meanwhile, I can put the storage side toward the elm tree,” Aidan told Hannah. “And I've got an idea for the floor. How do you feel about brickwork? Basket weave or diagonal herringbone?” He chuckled. “It's going to be fun.”

Re: Terramagne prompt: Howl's First Lesson

Date: 2014-07-20 12:13 am (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
Since he's using the building time to also get to know Nathaniel and teach him, the extra trimming is not a problem. (He'll have to plan for the support posts for the greenhouse and trim bricks to match anyway. Herringbone wins!)


He's going to be building concepts rather than words, too, so it'll be easier for Nathaniel to pick up an idea and work with it.

Schrodinger's Prompt

Date: 2014-07-19 05:54 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
At quarter to seven, Pat got the first phone call, at home. Petra Johnson, who worked the graveyard shift at the gas station just off the freeway, began speaking as soon as the line clicked active. “Thank G-d,” she declared, sighing loudly. “Six big military APCs just pulled off the main highway and onto route 287, and they're headed toward your place. Uh, wait,” she stammered, “toward THE building, you know?”

“The Tef?” Pat corrected, rubbing hard at his eyes with his free hand.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

When she drew a breath to keep talking, Pat interrupted gently. “I need to call the team, Petra. We'll figure out what's going on.” From deeper in the house, he could hear the second phone line ringing in the den. “I really have to go.”

Fortunately, one of his spouses had already answered the second phone line, giving him time to dress and splash water on his face. Another of the light sleepers, awakened by the phone, had done the sensible thing and headed for the kitchen. Jacket in hand and headed for the garage, Pat was interrupted; they pressed a Thermos of hot coffee into his hands along with a deep, warm kiss. “Come home safe.”

“I'll do my best,” he promised.

(Word count 213)

Re: Schrodinger's Prompt

Date: 2014-07-20 12:09 am (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
Thanks!

I've outlined the rest of it.

Prompts

Date: 2014-07-19 07:03 pm (UTC)
pointedulac: (Default)
From: [personal profile] pointedulac
*A supervillain who thinks they're the hero of the story.

*An encounter with an alien spacecraft.


Re: Prompts

Date: 2014-07-20 12:27 am (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
(This one was fun! Thanks!)

Sylvia rubbed her eyes with a mittened hand. On the other hand the mitten top wobbled in the corner of her vision, still folded up. Beneath it, her fingers gripped a felt tip pen shakily. Behind her, the telescope lay forgotten, the cooler tumbled open and leaking icy water over the short, frost-tipped grass. Her page of notes were quickly blooming into illegible drifts of ink as water soaked into her notebook.

It was still there. Not a sphere, not an oval, not any aircraft she'd ever seen pictures of or read about... and it certainly wasn't being terribly polite to the laws of aerodynamics or gravity, hovering as it was not fifteen feet above her.

Alien spacecraft. Aliens.

Her brain seemed to be skipping bad sectors, like a hard drive about to go down for good.

Cold water soaked the leg of her jeans, dripping toward her ankle. She yelped, scrambling on heels and hands until she could stand up.

It was still there.

And it could fit into the palm of her hand.

Word count: 175

Re: Prompts

Date: 2014-07-21 08:22 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
Well, it's one possible explanation why there haven't been any interactions between our planet and others... that we know of.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-07-19 10:06 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] chordatesrock
Two people who have trouble communicating because of reasons like, maybe one is human and one is a species that communicates by punching people in the face. Or maybe one has magical fire magic powers and one has ice powers, and being near each other just doesn't work (bonus points if they have a relationship that would normally involve a lot of touch, like being married, or one of them is the other's parent). Or, for a more mundane version, maybe they just approach language use and communication/relationships so differently that it's hard to come up with anything that means the same thing to both of them.

People who have somehow all gotten the impression that, while they are trying to save the world, the other side is trying to doom it. The other side has exactly the same idea. Bonus points if they even have the same strategy.

Blood feud in a society where death is common and impermanent most of the time, so no one takes it too seriously and it's half a show of annoyance and half a game. ("Can I change before you kill me this time? These are my nice clothes; I don't want blood on them.")

Blood feud

Date: 2014-07-20 01:03 am (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
A slightly different interpretation of "blood feud," but definitely a long-lived, "enhanced" race. Only one word may not convey a specific meaning: 'fenwold' is more like a personal pocket space, or the Doctor's pockets.

Darval parried the book thrown at his head by smacking his hand down on the edge of the dinner plate, flinging it into midair to deflect the book which was headed at him spine first. “Amma is serving the soup in a moment. Do you MIND?” he glared at his challenger.

His younger sister Lainje glared at him. “Actually, I do. Since you so rudely refused to drop /dead/ after wrecking the evening with Jombe.”

“Jombe is a cad and a moron, and you're far too good for him. And if his hands had moved any farther south before I entered the reading room, you, little miss 'favorite,' would now be at the very least betrothed, if not handfasted.” He crossed his ankles.

“You don't know --” she began hotly.

Darval stood. “I do,” he declared slowly, his voice low and steady.

A dagger flashed, missing his forearm by less than a finger's breadth. It stuck, quivering, in the edge of the table. “You've already gone through Maturation, you, you --” her voice dropped as she crossed the room to shove him, hissing, “you vemral!”

Darval swatted her behind, using the motion to pivot himself away, and a touch of the ability he had gained in Maturation to cross the whole room in two strides. “Why are you rushing? It's probably decades before you're going to show more than the first sign of Maturation!”

“I HATE YOU!” Lainje screamed, and the second dagger flashed past him, disappearing back into Lainje's personal fenwold when it reached the limits of her control. Strands of taffy-colored hair rested on his shoulder and the floor, with one lone strand on the matte black suede slippers he habitually wore indoors.

“Are we going to do this again?” Darval made himself sound bored, rather than admit anywhere but the privacy of his own head that she /had/ gained a good arm's length in distance.

“Children!” Amma scolded from the kitchen doorway. “If you're going to practice, change into your salle clothing. Or,” she waved the wooden spoon in her hand like a conductor's baton, “you'll both be doing the mending for a year.”

The realization that his little sister had seen his shudder at this threat soured any satisfaction he felt in her identical reaction.

Word count: 384

Re: Blood feud

Date: 2014-07-21 08:11 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
Thanks. I really like this version of reality-- to me, they're like a thirteen-year-old and her fifteen or sixteen-year-old brother. The closest approximation to their abilities would be Sidhe or Fae, but not /quite/. A lot of it is that the abilities are hard-coded into their biology, which I've never seen developed in traditional tales.

You know, this /may/ be my new original world...

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