[TT] Theme Thursday - Getaway

[u/AliciaWrites]

“A restless mind makes a problem of a resting body.”

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Happy Thursday writing friends!

Hope that y’all like this new theme!

Please note that every week, you must leave a comment on the post to be able to rank! Good luck and good words!

[IP] | [MP]

Bonus:

(These constraints are not required! If your story is better for not including them, please do what’s best for your work!)

Constraint: (10 pts)

Your story should include a character’s guilty pleasure. This should not just be a passing mention, but an active part of a scene. Please note at the end of your post if you’ve included this constraint.

Word of the Day: (5 pts)

azure/az·ure/ˈaZHər/

adjective

• bright blue in color like a cloudless sky

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Here's how Theme Thursday works:

• Use the tag [TT] when submitting prompts that match this week’s theme.

Theme Thursday Rules

• Leave one story or poem between 100 and 500 words as a top-level comment. Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.
• Deadline: 7:59 AM CST next Wednesday
• No serials, established universes, or stories that have been written for another prompt or feature here on WP
• No previously written content
• Any stories not meeting these rules will be disqualified from rankings and will not be read at campfires
• Does your story not fit the Theme Thursday rules? You can post your story as a [PI] with your work when the TT post is 3 days old!
• Give (at least) 2 actionable feedback comments to fellow writers. You can give critique at campfires, but you must leave a comment on the post to rank
• Vote to help your favorites rise to the top of the ranks! I also post the form to submit votes for Theme Thursday winners on Discord every week! Join and get notified when the form is open for voting!

Don’t forget to use genre tags!

Theme Thursday Discussion Section:

• Discuss your thoughts on this week’s theme, or share your ideas for upcoming themes.

Campfire

• On Wednesdays we host Theme Thursday Campfire on the Discord voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and have a blast discussing writing!
• Time: Morning campfire is back! /u/FyeNite hosts at 11 am CST and I’ll be hosting 7 pm CST and both will begin within about 15 minutes.
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• There’s a Theme Thursday role on the Discord server, so make sure you grab that so you’re notified of all Theme Thursday-related news!

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As a reminder to all of you writing for Theme Thursday: the interpretation is completely up to you! I love to share my thoughts on what the theme makes me think of but you are by no means bound to these ideas! I love when writers step outside their comfort zones or think outside the box, so take all my thoughts with a grain of salt if you had something entirely different in mind.

(This week’s quote is from Mokokoma Mokhonoana)

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Ranking Categories:

• Word of the Day - 5 points
  
• Bonus Constraint - 10 points
  
• Weekly Challenge - 25 points for not using the theme word - points off for uses of synonyms. The point of this is to exercise setting a scene, description, and characters without leaning on the definition. Not meeting the spirit of this challenge only hurts you! This includes titles and explanations/author's notes.
  
• Actionable Feedback - 15 points for each story you give detailed crit to, up to 30 points. One of your comments must be on the post.
  
• Nominations - 10 points for each nomination your story receives
  
• Ali’s Ranking - 50 points for first place, 40 points for second place, 30 points for third place, 20 points for fourth place, 10 points for fifth, plus regular nominations (On weeks that I participate, I do not weight my votes, but instead nominate just like everyone else.)
  
• Voting - 15 points for submitting your favorites via this form (form will be open after the deadline has passed.)

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Last week’s theme: Siren

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First by /u/Divayth--Fyr
Second by /u/Xacktar
Third by /u/rudexvirus

News and Reminders:

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[u/AliciaWrites]

Theme Thursday Discussion:

All top-level comments must be a story or poem between 100 and 500 words.

• No AI-generated responses 🤖

• Reply here to discuss the theme, suggest future themes, and share your theme-related inspirations!

• Please remember to follow the subreddit rules in any feedback.

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[u/Divayth--Fyr]

The Hoard

Mudlum was deep in an abandoned mine, in a little offshoot from the main shaft.  Old clothes and blankets were hung at the entrance.  Worthless treasures were strewn about, and a pile of rags and robes to one side made a bed.  Mugrum was sitting on a crate, pulling his teeth out.

Empty jarma vials littered the floor.  The stuff made life tolerable, and facilitated this gruesome operation.  Orc teeth are tough, and they grow back.  Mudlum had done this a few times.  

He had been Mudlum Khar-Garoth, of the Gray Hill Clan, once.  

Stacked along one stone wall were books, carefully draped with oilcloth against the damp.  Chief Ghortag had made burned all his books, but Mudlum had found more.  They had been the real reason for his exile.  

He cried out as a thick fang fell to the ground.  Three to go.

The books had told of all the great heroes, the shining Men and Elves, fighting off the hordes.  The Orcs had hordes, the heroes had armies.  Delicate poetry and epic tales of love abounded.  None of the heroes had fangs.

At long last, the last fang was out.  He stood and removed his stained old shirt, reaching into a chest for a hooded purple robe, brass circlet, and extravagant blue gloves.  

He filled a large shallow bowl with dark water, and peered down at his reflection.  His face was narrow and angular now, his mouth pursed in noble aspect.  The rich cloth of his robe complemented the gold of his crown, the azure and silver of his regal gloves.  He raised his hood. This humidity made his golden locks seem almost Orcish.  

“Ectherius mon Giltoriam,” spake Baron Miltrim fal-Iriador, Royal Scholar and Mage.  His voice was coarse, no doubt from the dreadful weather lately.  Most of his fellow Elven folk were of a more golden hue, it was true, but this scarcely detracted from his prodigious intellect and heroic power.  

He turned and lit a long pale candle, and selected a thick volume from his library.  He reclined gracefully, removing a glove to forage among some delicacies.  A husk, a rind, a crust of uncertain provenance, and the Baron became engrossed in a lovers tale from old Beldorica.  

Exile?  Nonsense.  He had liberated himself from the noxious horde, to pursue a life of opulence and academic accomplishment.  He opened a vial of jarm... that is, he decanted a bottle of finest brandy, and savored the aroma.

He laid down a spiked trap at the entrance to discourage cave rats, or thieves, and replaced his elaborate clothing in the chest.  A long excursion tomorrow was needed.  A quest, to research among the discarded treasures of the city and secure some delicacies. 

He would go in disguise again, as a lowly clanless Orc. For now, though, the Baron needed sleep.  

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472 words, guilty pleasure and azure used. Feedback welcome.

[u/bemused_alligators → u/Divayth--Fyr]

Good morning Div!

I feel bad for mudlum here, but at least he can dream! Unfortunately his dreams are little more than extensions of the racial stereotypes that have led him to his current conditions, rather than self-actualization, but hey - whatever lets you sleep at night.

I really like the way that Mudlum's hatred of his own race comes out - the heroes don't have fangs, and have armies rather than hordes. I also really like how he describes his own "failings" at being a royal scholar as momentary issues - his coarse voice is due to a passing illness brought on by the weather. His locks are orcish because of the humidity. Even his own "liberation" being his own choice, rather than exile forced onto him screams "You can't fire me because I quit". But it also has excellent moments where the illusion is broken. His delicacies are rinds and moldy bread, his fine brandy is jarm.

I can't think of much to improve here. The only thing I can think of is using the fangs coming out one by one as a sort of progression of his story. You could have punctuated each of the first four paragraphs with a fang being pulled to give him more separation from his clan and his past.

Great words!

[u/MaxyDraws]

Gwyn gnawed on the carrot. He had gone through a bushel already and was trying to make this last dozen last. It shouldn't have been hard; they were frozen through by now. But under a sheen of ice was a rich, earthly sweetness that he couldn’t refuse.

He cast a forlorn look at his timepiece. The operatives would be in there now, navigating to the innermost vault, cracking it open and- 

The Citadel erupted with light. 

Gwyn set his front hooves against the railing, frantically scanning the darkness. From his perch at the height of the Citadel’s central spire, he could see a cloud of angels peel off the tower, amber halos burning away the night. He knew their doctrine. They would purge the Citadel floor by floor looking for the intruder. Clearing all the lower levels before they’d even considered looking up.

Because to challenge them in the air was madness.

There was a crash at the door and two humans tumbled through. Human One closed it behind them. He scrambled towards a steel bench and heaved it forwards, barricading the entrance. Human Two fiddled with the lock. There was a soft tink as the tumblers clicked into place. 

“You offal lump-”

“If you had done like I had said-”

Gwyn spat out a half chewed carrot, the humans froze. He stepped forward with a hoof and bowed his head to the cobblestone.

“Get back!” Human One squeaked, short sword at the ready. “It’s a unicorn!”

Gwyn snorted with the crawling patience of coastal erosion and turned to face Human Two, the more composed of the pair, who was staring at him slack mouthed. To her credit, she closed her mouth, clenched her fist, and slugged Human One in the face. 

Human One spewed a fountain of red from his nose and collapsed in a heap of spilled limbs. He immediately started to rise. “Ella what in god’s name-”

She grabbed his head and forced it to the ground, bowing her own just as deeply.

“We knew the boss had hired someone big, we just weren’t expecting someone of your…esteem. We apologize.” 

Gwyn appraised her for a moment, then nodded. He laid flat, allowing the bandits to flail into his saddle and slip their legs through leather straps. A heavy gray parcel, the target, was hastily stashed in his rear pouch. 

His ears perked up. He felt his mane frizzle, the air suffused with static. He tasted the wind, sour and metallic. 

They were here. 

The door buckled under a herculean blow, radiant energy leaking through splintering wood. A golden eye glared at him through a puncture, all luminous and malevolent. 

Gwyn clenched his teeth and entered into a mad gallop, muscles straining, flints of light running across the surface of his horn, his mane rippling with incandescent hues. He burst into fire. The humans screamed but he refused to burn, his particles unzipping, melding into the light.

And then they vanished in the shimmer of a midnight rainbow. 

(Constraint used, thank you!)

[u/Ryter99]

“Surprise, babe! I’m taking you to Fiji!”

The mention of her dream vacation should’ve put a massive smile on Ashley’s face, but her husband’s tone was so strange, so… frantic, that she had trouble processing his sudden announcement. 

“You are?” she finally managed.

“Mhmm! Right now! I’m even packing for you!” Ben replied, gesturing to her suitcase, open on their bed.

A frown crossed Ashey’s face as she examined the contents. “Seven unmatched socks…”

“Gotta have fun, mix and match on vacay, babe!”

“And you’ve thrown five of my bikini tops in here…”

“Mhmm! I know you love sunbathing on the beach!”

“And zero bottoms.”

“That’s uhhh… that’s their custom there. They full on Donald Duck it, soooo we gotta fit in.”

“WHAT?”

“Err, I meant, we’ll buy our swim suits there. Support local Fiji-ite businesses!” Ben said as he slammed the suitcase shut and hurried his wife outside. “C’mon, c’mon, we’re gonna miss our flight.”

He rushed her out to the car, tossed their bags in the trunk and rushed around to her side of the car, slamming the door shut the moment she was inside.

Tires squealing, the car rocketed onto their suburban street.

“Ben!” Ashley said, bracing against the dashboard. “Slow down!”

“Can’t hun, we’re barely gonna make it.”

Something behind Ashely rustled. Glancing back, she found the blanket covering the backseat was moving. 

When Ashley reached back and poked it, it yelped.

“Is there a dog back there?!” she blurted.

“Um… no?”

Ashley pulled the blanket aside, revealing a dozen little puppies.

“Dogs,” Ben clarified. “Plural.”

“Ben! Where are they from?”

It was the reasonable question, but Ben didn’t seem to even hear it, his eyes were too focused on the rearview mirror and the police car tailing just behind them. 

Matching her husband’s worried gaze, Ashley gasped. “Did you steal these dogs?”

“Well, heisted, technically.”

“Benjamin!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I was biking out past Pleasant’s Farm and found this literal puppy mill in the middle of nowhere! They were in tiny, tiny little cages, practically stacked on top of each other, all yelping soooo sadly… I lost my mind. I had to get them out.” Ben’s head fell in shame. “But I broke the law, I’m sorry…”

The giggle from the passenger seat was not the reaction Ben expected from his wife. 

Ben glanced that way, finding three of the pups had hopped into the front seat and were now snuggling against his wife’s chest, and licking her face in an impossibly adorable fashion.

“Oh my god they’re so cuuuuuuuute,” she cooed.

Ben’s brief smile vanished when police lights flashed on behind them, soon followed by a piercing siren.

“Time to face the consequences…” he sighed, letting off the accelerator.

“Don’t you dare slow down!” Ashley shouted.

“Wait… What? 

“We aren’t giving these angels back.”

“You’re in on this with me?”

“For this level of cuteness? Absolutely.” Ashley said, grinning as she rubbed a pup's fluffy tummy. “Floor it.”

[u/vMemory]

The man called Fox was humming himself a little tune, when he asked aloud, “What music shall we play on the way home?”

“I’m stumped,” said Bear. “What were you thinking?”

“Smooth jazz.” He whistled. “Classy, old school, and—”

“Not jazz,” Rabbit snapped. “It’s not a dance with your mother, we’re blasting the hell out, guns blazing.”

“How about Sinatra? My Way?”

“That’s like playing your own eulogy. It’s a perfect song to play in the background while a camera slowly zooms out on us bleeding out in the car.”

“You’ve been awful quiet Badger, how about you? Have any predilections?”

Badger grit his teeth. “Can we just focus on the mission, please.”

Fox stretched a crazy smile and purred, “Why—so—jittery!?”

“Look at his hands. They’re shaking.”

“If he’s so jumpy, maybe we should’ve named him Rabbit.

“We never should have—”

“Am I the only voice of reason!? Look at where we are!”

The four men stood spaced evenly across the diner with their eight hands outstretched in various angles. Eight hands held eight guns pointed at eight members of the staff, who were circling around and dumping their kneeling customers’ belongings into black trashbags. They glanced at each other. For an enduring moment, time stood still.

Fox broke the silence with a worried voice. “Did anyone hear that?”

“Hear what?” Bear asked.

“Exactly!” Fox cried. “The sound of silence, how dull it is! Thank you Badger for your contribution. Now we know the answer is not silence!”

[u/bemused_alligators → u/vMemory]

I appreciate that you used the other definition of getaway, basically everyone else went with vacations and here we are (planning to) escape the cops!

I do like all the dialogue as well, and agree that "my way" would be a great song for that long zoom out shot of the failed escape.

As far as crit goes, it's almost entirely structural. You could do to add in more hints towards the ending with actions between the lines of dialogue. As it is the only hint towards the ending is that Rabbit plans on going out guns blazing. A good surprise is something that makes sense in hindsight, more so than being actually surprising!

So rabbit could gesture for a waiter to hurry up as he's saying "no jazz", and badger could be staring down the big cook or something when he says that they need to focus on the job.

Give us more indicators of the environment that implies that they're in a restaurant in a less than friendly way before dropping the "guns pointing at staff" line.

Great words!

[u/Xacktar]

When Celia opened her eyes and felt the ocean breeze on her cheek, she knew she was alone.

This was upsetting for two reasons. One: her bed was supposed to contain a second occupant in the form of her husband, Raoul. Second, and most important to the equation of how upset she should be, this was supposed to be the first day of their honeymoon. Raoul was going to pay for this, and it would take some time to calculate just how high the penalty would be.

Three minutes and thirteen seconds later she was fully dressed and standing outside the hut, listening for the sound she knew would be nearby. It would be a cheer, or a groan, or some combination of the two, maybe interspersed with a shout of suspicion, or maybe the shrieking trill of a patrolman's whistle.

The cheer came form the supply shed a few doors down. She snuck in through the half-open garage-like door and into the dim light inside. In the back she could see the shadows cast by the light of a single, dusty window. Crouching figures tossed cash onto concrete while a thin man, with a thin mustache, and a jaunty tilt to his black bolero blew luck onto the dice cupped in his hands.

"Seven be my lady!" He whispered to the dotted ivory with just the touch of a Spanish accent, just enough to be charming even when his audience was composed of a few scruffy men in mechanic's jumpsuits. They didn't look at him, though. They looked at the dice and the money, and at a future where both were under their control.

Celia crossed her arms and tapped her foot three times on the concrete. The bolero bobbed up, a flinty azure eye caught hers, then vanished beneath the rim of the hat just as quick. The dice were thrown, the cheers followed, and Raoul slipped away while the others divvied up their wins and moved on to the next round without him.

"I thought we said no gambling." Celia snapped at the brimmed shadow beside her.

"It's not really gambling..." His voice was smooth, hypnotic; a charm perfected after many years.

Celia was having none of it. She tapped her foot three more times.

Her husband answered with a kiss to her cheek and whispered, "They tried the 'bumbling retiree' on me, then tried to pull a 'six switch.'"

"On you?" She said as she turned her face closer to his.

"On me."

She fought to keep the smile from her lips and failed, "Oh, that's precious."

"So it's not gambling." He slid away from her with an answering grin. "It's hustling."

"An interesting distinction." Celia snaked her arm around his and gently pulled them both back to the game, "How much do they have?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not really." Celia shrugged, then gave him her own kiss to his cheek, "But you know how I like to keep score."

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Constraint included: Raoul's 'gambling' is his guilty pleasure.

[u/Divayth--Fyr → u/Xacktar]

Howdy Xack! This was fun to read. The feeling of impending doom builds up nicely.

In the second paragraph, the whole equation bit seems like taking the long way around to saying she was upset. I'm not sure how much of it was stylistic choice, but it was a very elaborate way of getting there. In the rest of the story, Celia seems like a straightforward thinker.

Also, not sure about the colons. Commas may have done the job.

In the fourth paragraph you use 'dim light' twice.

This was upset her for two reasons

Missing a word.

just enough to be charming even when his audience was composed of two retirees and three young maintenance men

Objection, facts not in evidence. That is, Celia is the POV and she wouldn't really know if the maintenance guys felt charmed or not.

They didn't look at him, though, they looked at the dice

This seems like a period after 'though' works better, but I could be wrong of course.

The ending was pretty cool, the way the Impending Doom was subverted, and the reveal of both characters being shady. That takes some patience and skill, to set that up without just giving it away, so well done there. Good words!

[u/bemused_alligators]

Vacation

Sprig unwrapped just the corner of the bar an took a nibble. Just the tiniest taste. The sugary sweetness coated their tongue. With a sigh, they relaxed back into the chair. They were bored.

The surf rolled below them, relentlessly washing the beach sand. The sun shone from above, dominating the azure sky. The weather was perfect, the beating sun on their skin offset by the chill wind from the surf. They had no responsibilities, no tasks to complete. They were just... there. Sitting on a chair on the beach. With nothing to do.

They unwrapped the corner of the bar and took another nibble.

They had a read an old story - one of the few that had been preserved from before the revolution. A character named Charlie had bought a single chocolate bar each year on his birthday, carefully portioning it out to last the entire year. Sprig had found this to be a grand idea, and had decided to try it themselves! Maybe they could lose some weight that way. they unwrapped the corner and took another nibble.

They turned over, surreptitiously glancing around. Their Personal Assistant Robot was nowhere to be seen. They grabbed their laptop from where they had stashed it under the beach chair and turned it on. Took another nibble of the bar while they waited. CAD was slow to open, as always. You’d think after almost a hundred years of development they could have made it run faster.

"Ser, you have consumed almost 50% of that chocolate bar in the last 2 hours." Sprig slammed the lid of the laptop closed, and glanced over at their PAR, its metal frame gleaming in the sunlight. "You had indicated a desire to decrease consumption to 1 bar per year. This indicates you ought to consume approximately 0.2% of the bar per day."

Sprig smiled guiltily at the bot. “I swear I wasn’t working! I just wanted to, uh, check something!”

"I can hold the bar for you if you would like." The PAR responded, patiently. "And provide the correct quantity each morning! You’ll have your chocolate consumption down in no time!” As it spoke, one of its lower limbs picked up Sprig’s laptop and gently placed it in a storage compartment.

Sprig looked at their PAR, and then the bar, and then their confiscated laptop. Then they took a massive bite of the bar, it was delicious. PAR stood and watched. If Sprig didn’t know better they would say it was amused.

“You need to rest. You are to remain on vacation for 3 more days.”

Sprig sighed, and lay back on the chair. They watched the surf roll, relentlessly washing the beach sand. Took a glance at the clear azure skies, dominated by the glowing orb of the sun. Felt the cool breeze contending with the heat of the sun on their skin.

With a snort, they ate the rest of the chocolate bar, and then rolled over for a nap.

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wc: 498

constraint: guilty pleasure is work (and chocolate)

bonus word(s) used: azure