User:Bland.spam

Bland Scripts:
Bland Scripts are where I write you a short story including your name and pronouns. You may pick the plot. This can be used to experiment, or if you're not feeling validated. Everyone is welcomed!

(Please put trigger warnings where applicable for others. I will do anything except the obvious 18+.)"Example:""'Name: Pock .. Pronouns: kit/kits, they/them .. Plot: Opening a door... but dramatic'""Pock was ready; kit had been planning this for years. Kits' whole life was dedicated to this one thing:""Opening that door.""Pock walked down the hall to where the door rested. The hallway wasn't long - no, if anything it was the shortest hallway kit walked - but the journey here had left Pock weak and tired. But, alas, kit had finally arrived to the door. It was a wooden door, its cracks and chips showing its age. Pock took a deep breath. They were ready. They were ready.""Slowly, oh so slowly, Pock raised kits hand...""The door was open. Pock ran."

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Completed Bland Scripts:
{| class="mw-collapsible fandom-table" !@ !Triggers !Story !Side Notes

@TheAshSystem

 * x
 * Jackson was stood in sunflower's room, preparing for the dance in the room below him. Sunflower's confidence was through the roof in what he was wearing: a black, puffed dress that reached sunflower's ankles, frilly lacing making intricate patterns. God's shoes were slightly heeled, small bows planted in the middle. It almost looked like a medieval gown, and Jackson felt like he was going to a ball. "So be it," god thought, and delicately tied a pastel pink ribbon around their midsection. Jackson spun in a circle, admiring sunflower's get-up with a quiet elation. Swiftly, Jackson turned on god's heel, trotting down the hall to the dance down below.

@Shipaxe

 * fear, horror elements
 * They weren't going to make it.

Phobos was sprinting. Stim's feet were sore and calloused, yet they ran anyways. God's breathing was labored, and he worried they wouldn't be able to hold on anymore.

Suddenly, stim fell.

Phobos scrambled around, trying desperately to stand. But, it was useless, God's legs refused to work, and his arms weren't of much use either. Stim tried to crawl, if to get any distance, but it was futile. The create caught up to them, and they were too far in the forest for stim's screams to be heard.
 * You may send as many asks as you'd like!

@PrinceLuci

 * the word bleeding (not blood)
 * Lucifer flicked the mic on, his feet dangling under the soundboard. As the song started, its head bopped to the music. They wrote this song themselves, something based on their hardships and struggles. The song started soft, melodic. His voice flowed with the tune, calmly hitting all the notes with practiced ease. Then, it came to the climax of the song. It's voice suddenly became raspy as they shouted the notes, their emotion bleeding through their words. His voice shook slightly, but they plowed through. The tone switched to a half-way point, still holding the shrill, angry energy, but softer notes intertwined delicately in-between. Soon enough, the song ended with a shriek, held 6 notes long and passionate all the way through.

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer ended the recording.

@Confusi-skept

 * war, mentions of death
 * Weather shuffled in zir chair, taking a sip from the small mug in their hands. Fluff was seated at a table, cloud's companion across from them, holding a mug of their own. Neon's foot tapped delicately on the cement pavement below it, though it made no sound. Weather watched the noisy massacre below voix, its eyes fluttering with boredom. Faer's friend clinked their cup on the table and adjusted their seat. Weather turned to face them.

"How do you do it?" they asked, looking up at zir quizzingly. "This would be your second world war, would it not? How does it not affect you?"

"Third," was all Weather said, taking another sip.

Faer's friend coughed awkwardly, uneased by the silence. "You didn't-"

"No, I did not answer your question," Weather interrupted, facing back to the battle. "That is because there is none. On the occasion, I'll cry; I'll mourn for those who have to suffer because of the selfish. But when I am faced with it, I feel nothing but pity. Pity for those who are blind to reality, blind to their stupidity, blind to their actions. And it makes me numb, after a while."

Fluff's friend was still, a shocked expression falling upon their face.

"You wouldn't understand," said Neon, "for your life is short. You will die at around 70, my friend, and knowing this means you must live a life meaningful to you." Vae took a breath, if only to smell in aer sorrow. "I, however, live much longer than you. I have no reason to shake off my grief. I can wallow in it all I wish. I have nothing else to do."

With that, Weather shifted in their seat and continued to watch the war.
 * Wow, that got sad, sorry.

@CrazyLace882

 * x
 * There Owen sat, frantically pressing buttons on the screen. It was night, and kyuus light was off, so the single thing illuminating the room was the blue light flashing from the television. Suddenly, the screen faded to black, and red words reading "defeat" came into view. He huffed angrily, throwing kyuus controller down in frustration. Kyuu angrily picked up a paintbrush, violently scribbling out more details on it's painting as it waited for a new round to start.
 * I may have misinterpreted the prompt, my bad.

@Shipaxe

 * x
 * Sat at a smooth wooden table was Pico, his legs swinging leisurely under him. Blam paused his writing to take a small sip of coffee, slowly downing the drink in order to not burn blams tongue. The mug was softly set back on its' saucer, and Pico returned to his writing. Blam read over his poem, smoothing over a wrinkle from the stained napkin blam used not too long ago. It sounded nice to his ears, so blam pocketed it, excusing himself from the cafe.

@ARandomPan

 * fear, minor horror, some repeated phrases/words, implied death
 * Blake shivered, unease wracking its way through his frame. Suddenly, he felt himself falling, falling, falling, until he felt himself land on something metallic. Forcing his aching back to straighten out, Blake arched up, scanning his surroundings. Even though it was dark, he could make out some things. It was like some sort of workshop, metal parts piled where he was sitting. Blake stumbled getting up, but once he righted himself, the lights turned on.

Around him, there were several machines, each towering over him threateningly. Apparently, turning on the lights also meant turning on the whole unit. They all whirled thunderously, the creaks and bangs along with it making a sickening accompaniment.

Blake suddenly felt very, very suffocated, despite the fact that the room was impressively large.

He made a break for the closest door he could spot. His breaths were labored and short. His feet ached, though he had only taken a few steps.

The more Blake ran, the further the door appeared to get. The machinery closed in around him, echoing louder and louder. The whole thing was so dizzying that Blake couldn't tell if he was actually running on the ground or the ceiling.

A loud shhnk! sounded from behind him, and suddenly he didn't have to think of what he was running on anymore.

@Astridsplayhouse

 * x
 * Aster absentmindedly kicked the bass drum at zir feet, writing in some final notes on the staff paper in front of zem. Aster had been working all week on this, and ze think ze are almost ready with the first draft. If ze could just...

Fixing an unharmonious chord with an accidental, Aster cracked zir knuckles and leaned back in zir chair. Hastily grabbing a few necessities for the piece, ze began recording.

It was a slow, melodic song. Ze had been inspired when walking on a hike, watching squirrels pass by zem. It spoke of life long past, looking forward to the future with reverence. It was a song Aster wrote because of some struggles they had encountered. This song gave zem a sense of purpose and longing. Of course, ze were scared for what might happen, but ze knew this song would still be here, waiting for zem. Aster sang peacefully, basking in the tranquil scenery ze remembered from that walk not too long ago.

This was zir safe space. '' Bass drum: Typically the drum that keeps the beat. On a drum set, this is the large drum the percussionist hits with one of their feet. ''
 * I'm a music geek. Here's some definitions to those it may concern:

'' Staff paper: Paper specifically for writing music. ''

'' Chord/unharmonious chord: A chord is multiple notes played at once. An unharmonious chord is a chord that doesn't sound nice. ''

'' Accidental: A note that is not a part of the scale. Examples are A# (A sharp), Eb (E flat), etc. ''

@Altaccount00

 * x
 * Rain skipped along the sidewalk, umbrella in pocket and coat dripping wet. Ae didn't care, though, as ae were having the time of aer life. The soft plip, plip, plip from when the water hit the ground, and the louder shpunk where aer rainboots connected with a puddle was music to aer ears.

Rain couldn't think of anywhere ae'd rather be.
 * Short but sweet.
 * }