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Making them angry was easy, it was keeping them that way that was a challenge. After methodically insulting their entire family lines and making dire threats about what he would do to their nearest and dearest if they failed at this, the lines started to waver and soften. He had to say horrible, unforgivable things, had to approach them, had to touch them to keep them angry. Once it got that far, though, their anger hardened into a flat, steady line of spikes that could have endured for hours, though Earth only needed it for the roughly 20 minutes that the Grey passed through close orbit.

Inspiration: Oh, some Japanese video about making people angry.
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: And earth was saved from the empath aliens. Or something.
She played with their marbles, ratcheting them up in little lines and then shooting them off to bounce around edges and off each other straight to insanity. It was a fun game. She was pretty upset when her mother noticed and confiscated all their marbles and gave them back, but that was what mom's did, she guessed: they spoiled the fun. Then there were endless long lectures about why playing with other people's marbles was bad and would she like it if somebody played with her marbles? She said that nobody could, and her dad muttered, "I wouldn't be so sure about that," with a really uneasy look on his face that made her pay a little bit more attention and be a little bit more worried, but her mom just scowled at him and made him be quiet. That was the last time she was ever lectured by her parents, but she really wished--

Inspiration: A marble mixed in with pebbles in the bottom of the vase of origami flowers I keep on my desk.
Story Potential: High, actually.
Notes: And why does she never get lectured again? Oh, that's because her parents commit murder-suicide later that week, and she's sent into the foster-care system with the really uneasy feeling that somebody messed with her parents' marbles.
The seeds were scattered beneath the sacred plant as he approached. He knelt, touched his forehead in reverence, and removed the soft cloth from around his waist. "This is no desecration, no crass commercial act," he murmured quietly as he scooped up the seeds. He hoped that the sacred plant would read his intentions--he was projecting his sincerity and desire to help with all his strength. "This is merely the first step to preserving your great legacy. The winters warm, and the summers burn. The water goes, and the human tenders abandon their posts because oit quickly becomes intolerable. Your smaller offspring are already dying, beyond hope, beyond even spreading their seeds to provide--"

Inspiration: A little tissue paper holding seeds from a plant at Job #2
Story Potential: High
Notes: A planet dying, a holy plant interdicted from export, a devoted follower of the true faith--mayhem ensues. More of a novel than a short story, I think, but it could be good--maybe something along the lines of the relationship held in the Lee & Miller Korval books.
It made her feel good to realize that it was because of her precious pond scum that the man who had tried to kill her had been saved. At first, she perhaps wouldn't have been so pleased by the realization. But then she'd learned exactly what the pond scum did to others. Oh, it was for their own benefit, she was sure...but the results, while they'd saved the killer's life, would see to it that he'd need to find another profession. After all, how could a person cursed with absolute empathy ever manage to kill another human being? She smiled to herself, little knowing that she'd be finding out the answer to that, a very personal answer--


Inspiration: "Sho-Nuff" by KC and the Sunshine Band
Story Potential: Low
Notes: Blah blah blah....

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penthius

January 2025

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