Happy Mother's Day to all those who celebrate! Here's a look at the devices I'll be using next week:
I'm taking a look at the rest of the things in the Writer's Toolbox, which provided the Sixth Sense cards I used last week. I look forward to seeing what the sticks and the Protagonist Game provides.
For today's story, I used a combination of something from my personal plot bunny document (where I throw random tidbits I want to use later) and the prompt from Lori Ostland on the Story a Day website:
Context: this prompt is based on a prompt that I gave in my last taboos class (during which the class listed things that workshops or teachers have warned them against). We analyzed why it is a taboo, and then they wrote a scene leveraging the taboo.
Taboo: Bathrooms
Taboo Reasoning: the ICK factor and discomfort that people feel about bathrooms and/or bodily functions such as vomiting; vomiting as stereotypical catharsis; bathrooms as private places that don’t generally involve other people and have prescribed functions.
Opportunities: bathrooms as a place to explore the spontaneous (a sudden breakup, for example); vomiting as something that does not equate to easy catharsis; the claustrophobia of a small space creating unexpected tensions or character revelations; bathroom being used for something completely unexpected/outside its usual function; strangers meet in a public bathroom; embrace the ICK factor!
Instructions: the prompt is wide open, but the goal should be to write a scene that avoids the taboo traps that bathrooms are known for and to instead embrace the opportunities. This can be used to start a new story or as a way to think about adding a scene to a work-in-progress.
I slammed my way into the ladies’ room, hardly aware of anyone else who may be in the space. I needed to get away from the crush of people in the main office, and I needed to run some water over my hands before the burst into flames. I couldn’t believe they had put me in that position, and without the slightest bit of warning - didn’t they realize how dangerous that was, for me and for everyone in the building?
“Sofie?” I heard my assistant’s voice hesitantly at the door to the bathroom, and I ground my teeth. He wasn’t likely to come all the way into the bathroom, ingrained taboos being what they were, but he also knew to follow after me when he saw I was on the verge of making a scene. I breathed deeply through my nose and let the air out in a whoosh through my mouth, only allowing the slightest wisp of smoke out with it. I started waving my hands under the faucet, willing the water to run.
“Excuse me,” from my left, and I turned to see one of the women from the mailroom washing her hands as quickly as she could while still showing that she had the good hygiene sense her mother had taught her - her need to be clean obviously fighting the urge to get away from me. I must have looked worse than I thought. A glance in the mirror startled me, as I saw my normally-hazel eyes were glowing like embers and the edges of my short blonde haircut were looking, for lack of a better word, singed. I nodded to the woman from the mailroom and made space for her to grab a paper towel and flee the bathroom as quickly as possible, all while trying to get the blasted faucet to recognize me and get some water flowing. I heard some whispers at the door, then the sound of a lock clicking shut and a couple of pairs of footsteps.
“Sofie, what is your problem?” Ah, Anna, she who was certain any problem that existed could be fixed by just doing things her way. I was pretty sure she was responsible for the chaos in the office, and it was going to take me a few minutes before I could speak to her without risking active flame. I kept my focus on the faucet, which finally decided to notice I was there and let the water flow over my scalding hands.
“I don’t think- That is, maybe you should back off for a minute, Anna,” I heard my dear Vincent say in what, for him, was a voice of authority. Bless him, he’d been my assistant for the last two years, and it was obvious upon meeting him that he wasn’t just cowed by me - everyone with sense should be cowed by me, obviously - but by anyone who had the least bit of backbone. He was getting better, as evidenced by the fact that he had come into the bathroom after me and was trying to keep Anna from making things worse. If the company survived today, I’d have to put him in for a raise.
“I’d listen to him, Anna,” I said at last, still letting the water run over my fingers and up to my wrists. The cool water gave me something to focus on that wasn’t my incandescent rage, and that was safer for everyone. “You’re not my favorite person right now. You probably shouldn’t be locked in the bathroom with me.”
Anna stood next to me, making eye contact through the mirror. I could see Vincent behind her, gripping the pendant on his necklace and flipping it backwards and forwards furiously. He didn’t often need to stim so blatantly, so the stress of everything was clearly more than he was able to handle alone. Seeing him in distress softened me a bit, and I let the water stop running and shook my hands out at the sink, allowing the water droplets to fly where they may. If some of them happened to land on Anna’s silk blouse, well, that’s the result of standing too close to the sink.
“You made a scene, and for what?” Anna demanded, crossing her arms over her shirt and trying to glare at me through the mirror. I ignored her, drying my hands on a paper towel and running my now-cool fingers through my hair, setting the edges to rights and noticing that the singed pieces looked to be fading back to blonde. “This was our big moment, and you had to go and ruin it by being a diva and bringing all the attention to you. You couldn’t let the company have a moment? Allow us to shine, instead of you?”
I heard Vincent whimper behind us, and I felt my eyes start to glow with fire again. I closed them, practicing the square breathing technique the shrink had taught me before I started working at the office, and when I was sure the fire would remain internal, I opened my eyes and made eye contact through the mirror with Anna. “You wanted to shine, did you?” I said as blandly as I could manage, and I felt rather than saw Vincent shrink back. He knew that when I sounded like I didn’t care, it was much more likely that I lulling someone into a false sense of security.
Anna, however, had little sense of self preservation and pushed ahead. “Yes, of course! I don’t understand why you would have such a negative reaction to having The Storm Wizard here for the press conference. You knew that we were working on a partnership with him, and it only made sense for him to appear at our first public announcement.”
Slowly, I turned away from the mirror and met her gaze face to face. Vincent looked ready to climb into one of the stalls to get away from what was coming. “Well, Anna, darling,” I purred, “I didn’t know about this proposed partnership. If I had, I never would have allowed it, and I certainly wouldn’t have allowed that charlatan into our offices while I was on site. You see, in case you missed it, he and I have a history, and that history involves a lot of damage and death.”
Anna’s brow furrowed, taking in what I wasn’t saying. “That can’t be right, though,” she said slowly, trying to figure her way through the logic puzzle laid before her. Vincent, watching her take ages to put the pieces together, started sidling toward the bathroom door, but I met his eyes and shook my head. With a sigh, he stayed put, blocking Anna’s path to the door.
“He said you’re The Crimson Wing, though, and that’s not right,” she finally said, looking between Vincent and me. “The Crimson Wing’s a supervillain, and everyone knows that she kills without thought or mercy, and leaves nothing but a burning feather behind. We’ve never had anything like that happen here, and I haven’t even heard of something like that happening in the last five years, since the company’s been in existence…”
“The company that has a flaming feather as its logo?” I drawled. I was getting bored with how long this was taking. “Yes, I’m the Crimson Wing. No, I don’t ‘kill without thought or mercy’ - I don’t kill at all if I can help it, and generally the people who die are the ones too stubborn to leave when the getting’s good.” Not that it made their deaths good in any way, mind - I still remembered the face of every person who had died due to my actions and my powers, and I had donated to cover funeral expenses and to take care of the families of each of them. Anonymously, of course, because it wouldn’t do to have acts of charity come out when you’re a supervillain.
“Storm Wizard and I had some beef a long time ago, and I bested him, and he’s never gotten over it,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me. “The man can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. I’d heard he’d been looking for me for years, which is part of why I went underground and nobody’s heard from me the last few years. I built this place up to try to put some of my money to good use, creating the kind of technology that would allow the schools to access information beyond what they can physically get their hands on.” Admittedly, part of it was also to get around bullshit book bans, because they were getting out of hand, and having a tech company that had some money and clout to throw around gave me a chance to fight some of the more egregious censorship cases. “This is what I’ve been doing for five years, and I’ve been doing it pretty well.”
Vincent nodded, looking more relaxed the longer we did nothing but talk. “She’s been great at getting the shareholders on board with some of the more important charity work, too,” he added. “Sofie’s been doing some marvelous work here.” He sighed, looking back to me. “Does that all have to end now?”
Anna looked alarmed. “Why would it end? Nobody’s going to believe Storm Wizard - I mean, he is getting a little up there in age, and I’ve heard that some of the wizard types get a little dotty in their later years…” She saw my expression and drooped. “It’s that bad?”
Before I could answer, we all heard a flush, and one of the other stalls opened. I knew I should have checked all of the stalls for people before I started running my mouth, but it’s too late for that now. I made eye contact with Vincent, who moved to more obviously block the path to the door, and we waited.
“Look, I tried not to listen, I promise,” the woman coming out of the stall said as she exited, her hands in the air. “Let me wash my hands, and I think I can help you. I don’t think you need to shut things down, or anything like that. You can spin this.” She moved confidently to the sink and washed her hands thoroughly, drying them before coming to me and offering a hand to shake.
“And you are?” I said skeptically, realizing this was someone I’d never seen before. She was wearing a vistor’s badge which didn’t have her name on it, and was dressed like one of the dozens of reporters who had been in the main office. “So help me, if you’re here to break some kind of story about all of this, I might make an example of you.”
“Linda Westman,” she said, still offering her hand to shake. “I’m a reporter, but more importantly, I’m a fixer. I help people in situations that look impossible, and I think this doesn’t even rank in the top ten of impossible situations. For one thing, most everyone already knew you’re the Crimson Wing, so it’s not really news.”
I froze as I was shaking her hand, and she pulled her hand away quickly, shaking it as though she had just touched a stove. Apparently my hands started getting warm with the surprise. “They do? It’s not? Dammit. Now what?”
“Now we re-brand. You, the company, the partnership, everything.” She grinned, and I saw just a hint of villainy in that smile. “It’ll cost you, of course, but I’m well worth the price.”
I sighed. I really hadn’t been looking forward to starting over again, and if it would just cost some money to put out a new story about me, then it might be worthwhile. “Come on. All of you. Let’s take this meeting to my office.” Vincent led the way, unlocking the door as we all walked out of the bathroom and headed to one of the rooms meant for this kind of work. It was going to be a long day.
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