Settings - Characters Association Game

Carter kicked the door open with his boot. "Damn fool woman," he muttered, "needs to look where she's going with her bowls of soup. Fuck." He stripped off his shirt, a mess of colour now, and bent to pull his boots off. He peeled his tight jeans down his legs and threw the lot into a washing machine and slammed the door. He stood naked by the machine, willing it to work, then ripped open the door. "Fuck, no coin in my pockets? Jesus wept."

Carter took his ten buck note to the counter. "You got any change?"

Billy looked up at him. "Maybe...."


Setting: outside your window....

I waved at my buddy PJ as he walked past. I got up and headed for the door to let him in.

Setting: High in the sky over Kosovo, wind ripping past, hand on the ripcord.
 
Setting: High in the sky over Kosovo, wind ripping past, hand on the ripcord.

Jeannette pulled the ripcord and adsorbed the Gs as the parachute opened, and then she relaxed. Someday she might not pull it, just to see what the virtual reality game would do with that decision, but for now she liked it this way--over and over.

The parachute let her down slowly into a sequestered community of monks who were anxious for her arrival. Those men, who were of all shapes, ages, sizes, skills and sexual bent, had only two purposes--to worship her and to satisfy her as she chose.

Setting: On a sunny afternoon in Golden Gate Park in the summer of 1966. Love is in the air, and on the ground, and against the tree...
 
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Setting: On a sunny afternoon in Golden Gate Park in the summer of 1966. Love is in the air, and on the ground, and against the tree...

Lynette wandered around the edge of the park, edgy from the hash. She had to find a ride down to LA, she'd heard of this guy named Charles, living out on a ranch. She wanted to meet him.


Setting: in a crowded cafe, there are two empty tables. One is in a small, dark booth down the back; the other up front by the window...
 
Setting: in a crowded cafe, there are two empty tables. One is in a small, dark booth down the back; the other up front by the window...

J-P Sartre enters and sits by the window. His eyes survey the crowd and then focus on the small, dark booth near the kitchen. He wonders, "qui n'a pas assis là?" and contemplates the implications of a dozen possible non- presences.

Setting: A commuter train in the Danish countryside at dawn. All seats are empty, and each is as good as the other.
 
Connor surfs his way down the isle of the jostling train car. Half way, exactly half way, he plops down on the right hand window seat. Staring out the window he watches as the sun lifts its ponderous weight above the horizon. Today was the day. By night fall he would either be in love or dead.

Setting: The woods, just inside the treeline, smoke drifts across the open field.
 
Connor surfs his way down the isle of the jostling train car. Half way, exactly half way, he plops down on the right hand window seat. Staring out the window he watches as the sun lifts its ponderous weight above the horizon. Today was the day. By night fall he would either be in love or dead.

Setting: The woods, just inside the treeline, smoke drifts across the open field.

Doug Mackenzie raises his head from the pillow. The scent of burning underbrush has overcome his exhaustion from a heavy night of enjoying the sound of one hand clapping. He pops open a Molson as he tries to remember what he was supposed to do as a fire lookout...

Setting: A Ukrainian tavern on Winnipeg's North Main in 1968.
 
Doug Mackenzie raises his head from the pillow. The scent of burning underbrush has overcome his exhaustion from a heavy night of enjoying the sound of one hand clapping. He pops open a Molson as he tries to remember what he was supposed to do as a fire lookout...

Setting: A Ukrainian tavern on Winnipeg's North Main in 1968.

Grumpy old Oleg sits on his usual stool, wondering were all the flower children came from. Even though the girls are pretty and nice to look at, he is disturbed that his peace and quiet have disappeared.

Setting: A kabuki in the heart of Nagasaki August, 1945.
 
Setting: A kabuki in the heart of Nagasaki August, 1945.

It was the eve of the ninth day of August and old Haruki went to the theater to relax. The news of the war was very bad--especially the news coming from Hiroshima--and he feared that the future held little promise.

Setting: On the crest of the Atlas Mountains, watching morning dawn over the Sahara.
 
Setting: On the crest of the Atlas Mountains, watching morning dawn over the Sahara.

...sits a solitary figure, his face etched with care as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Setting: Midnight on the Winter Solstice. A ray from the full moon pierces a clerestory window and illuminates the Sancta Camisa...
 
Setting: Midnight on the Winter Solstice. A ray from the full moon pierces a clerestory window and illuminates the Sancta Camisa...

JP Sartre was a good one, Tio! I liked the Ninth Circle of Hell elevator too :D
Hands - I enjoyed that rich piratical gallows monologue.
Notwise - cool twists in the parachute jump :)

Magdalena prostrated herself on the freezing cold flagstones before the sacred rags. 'Mary, mother, Mary, mother,' she chanted endlessly through numb lips. 'Make me a mother too, make me a mother too.' She thought about Albert, about how she would go home after this and do the things he was always asking her to do: suck his dick, lick his hairy balls, let him rub his cock over her bell-like breasts.

She was unable to prevent herself thinking of the alternative. She could go over to the Others for their 'celebration' of the Summer Solstice - they had an unparallelled record for getting the village women pregnant; although all the children from those pregnancies bore a marked resemblance to the High Priest. He was an unusually tall, blond man with a brooding look in piercing blue eyes. She had noticed his smooth lean arm muscles as he chopped the meat in his butcher's shop. She had seen how his wife - that slut Carolina - eyed her flat belly, a grin in the corner of her mouth like a mouse's tail.

She dragged her thoughts virtuously back to Albert's big dick, his black hairy balls.

Setting: 1950s Montparnasse.
 
Setting: 1950s Montparnasse.

It was a stifling afternoon, and fans circled over head to keep the air in the room in motion. The day was dreamy in so many ways, and Charles thought that it would be even without the gin and the Mary Jane. He relaxed against the bar to watch and listen while the Spanish girl, Idalia, played her guitar and that American recited his poetry to her rhythm.

The words made little sense, but somehow the sounds and the beat stirred his libido. Charles saluted their achievement by drawing his cock from his pants and jacking off; what better applause could he offer?

Setting: On the grassy bank of a shipping channel near Houma, Louisiana.
 
Setting: On the grassy bank of a shipping channel near Houma, Louisiana.

Michaëlle sat cross-legged in the dew-dampened grass at midnight, gazing longingly at the lights of the freighter easing it's way through the channel. She was tired of Houma, of its narrow bounds and narrow minds. Was swamp thing the most excitement they could imagine? Zydeco the best art they could create? That was it; she'd take a job - any job - on a boat just to get out of her birthplace, to escape her birthright.

Setting: A summer night in 1913, an hour before dawn, just off the quays of Herceg Novi ...
 
Setting: A summer night in 1913, an hour before dawn, just off the quays of Herceg Novi ...

Peter used rags to pad his oar locks so they would make no noise. He and his boat glided silently to where the Duchess's yacht was harbored. Anna watched from the rail above, nervous about who might see, about who might know.

She knew Peter: his passion, his will, and his commitment to their cause. He helped her step down and into the boat and she slipped him the packet. It was valuable, not for the Austrian wealth that is could hold, but for the plans that it revealed. Then they slipped away into the dawn--into what she knew would be a bright, bright dawn.

Setting: At the theater, long after the show was over.
 
Peter used rags to pad his oar locks so they would make no noise. He and his boat glided silently to where the Duchess's yacht was harbored. Anna watched from the rail above, nervous about who might see, about who might know.

She knew Peter: his passion, his will, and his commitment to their cause. He helped her step down and into the boat and she slipped him the packet. It was valuable, not for the Austrian wealth that is could hold, but for the plans that it revealed. Then they slipped away into the dawn--into what she knew would be a bright, bright dawn.

Setting: At the theater, long after the show was over.
Quasimodo ran his broom efficiently between the seats, collecting empty cups, spilled popcorn and... What's this? Someone has lost a necklace. He hated the nickname his deformity had earned him, but perhaps this lost necklace would lead him to his very own Esmarelda!

American Plains, near what is now Clovis, NM. Circa 13,000 years ago.
 
American Plains, near what is now Clovis, NM. Circa 13,000 years ago.

Sorry, I can't resist this one.

He was but twelve years old. It was only yesterday that he competed with the other boys. They burned sunflower seeds on the back of their hands to see who would flinch first. Now he stood with his grandfather's blade--that gift of the Sun God that he stole for this day. He used rawhide straps to tighten it onto the long shaft and turned to face the mammoth.

The beast reared its mighty mass to ward off the sting of the human blades. The foolish boy saw his opportunity and leaped in. He braced himself under the beast's weight and thrust his long, straight shaft upward; it pierced deep, deep to where he knew the animal's great heart pulsed.

Setting: Tea at a plantation home, overlooking the plains of Kenya.
 
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Setting: Tea at a plantation home, overlooking the plains of Kenya.

Lady Fatheringham sat alone at tea; her Lord was off on safari. A servant quietly stepped up as she drained her cup. He was the only servant there this day; on market days, all but one were free to go shop and socialize.

"Memsaab finish? Mingati take things?"

Mingati - the fast one - was no Moran; he had killed his first lion, racing headlong to meet its pounce. His employers knew nothing of that, nor did they know he only took this menial job to learn the secrets of the white devils. The son of a Masai chief, he would do anything to help his people against those who would dominate them.

"Yes, Mingati, please do,' said Lady Fatheringham softly.

She handed him her cup with her left hand; the fingertips of her right glided lightly down the deep brown skin of Mingati's arm.

"Then await me in the music room."

"Yes memsaab."

Mingati smiled as he cleared the remaining dishes; he knew he was about to learn new secrets of these pale people from far away.

Next Setting: Dublin, Palm Sunday, 1916. A pub by Stephen's Green.
 
Next Setting: Dublin, Palm Sunday, 1916. A pub by Stephen's Green.

The men were loud, and the serving girls--they shouted over it all to be heard. The Brits would listen to them now, they would.

Men and women flooded from the pubs and the churches and they met with more of like mind on their way to Liberty Hall. The flag of Ireland would fly today, and when it was all done the men, giddy with their success, would take their women to bed. Tomorrow would be a better day--a day to raise Irish children in a better Ireland.

Revolutionaries must always be optimists.

New setting: On the bridge of the pirate ship Madeline as its plasma thrusters fire and it pulls away from the crippled yacht.
 
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New setting: On the bridge of the pirate ship Madeline as its plasma thrusters fire and it pulls away from the crippled yacht.

She stared out the port at the ruin of her beautiful ship.

"Funny thing," said the voice behind her. "You being named Madeline and all. That's the name of this ship, did you know that?"

"Go to hell."

"We will. It's a very short trip. Right through that doorway, you'll be attached to the machine. I'll be at the controls. You'll experience modes of consciousness you didn't know existed. Unless you want to tell me everything you know about the Deneb Discoveries... now."

Then and there she resolved that everyone on this ship would die, even if she had to die herself. Angrily she turned to face him.

He was handsome, stunningly so, but very clearly suffered from Aracabus's syndrome. So did the two people behind him. The tell-tale discoloration of the eyes made it obvious. It occurred to her that their interest in Deneb might not be either academic or economic, and the attack on her yacht was not a random event.

But the information they wanted had to remain secret, and ultimately forgotten. No matter what. She snarled.

"I hear hell is pleasantly dark this time of year. Let's go."


setting: A darkened movie theater, cheezy porn movie in progress that's so bad virtually no one bothers to watch it.
 
setting: A darkened movie theater, cheezy porn movie in progress that's so bad virtually no one bothers to watch it.

[At least locally, the only time that porn is shown in movie theaters is during erotic film festivals. Rather than flashing back to 1980 when there were theaters for porn, I'm putting it in a film festival, and those are dating events.]

The domina on the screen yanked the leash in her hand and growled, "Oink like a pig, and maybe I'll let you sniff my pussy."

The rest of that charming dialogue was lost in a squeal from the back of the theater, "I thought we were going to see 'Frozen'!"

Carly spun around and buried her head in Hanna's shoulder. Hanna petted her hair and watched around the room, then said. "No, it isn't 'Frozen.' But it isn't the only show in the room, either."

She turned Carly back to look, not at the screen, but at the audience. People were seated in pairs, each leaning toward each other. Carly pulled away and took a few steps down the aisle to see. There wasn't a couple in the room that watched the movie; they were all involved in their own versions of sex; some manual, some oral, some otherwise.

Hanna caught up with Carly and pulled her into a seat. "Let's get into the spirit," she said.


Setting: On the moor, where the moonlit ruins of an ancient castle mouldered on the hill.
 
Setting: On the moor, where the moonlit ruins of an ancient castle mouldered on the hill.

"I shouldn't have stayed so long at the pub."

Jane spoke aloud to herself as she traversed the moor on her way home from the village. She may have done it to allay her fears, or merely because she had more than her share of ale, but it didn't matter why. What did matter was the fact that a voice - another voice - an echoing baritone - responded.

"I'm pleased that you did."

Jane spun round in a desperate attempt to find the source, but to no avail. In fear she raced along the path. But in her tipsy state, she lost her footing...


Setting: A tramp steamer, plying the Surabaya Strait in 1928.
 
Setting: A tramp steamer, plying the Surabaya Strait in 1928.

If there's an historical angle here, then you've stumped me. An erotic angle, I can see easily.

Hanna laid back in the deck chair, with the back of her wrist on her forehead. Passage from Darwin to Batavia was so long, and so hot, and she wasn't just thinking of the steamy climate.

Juan had been eager for her, and so pleasing, and what was it, another week to port? Until then she would simply have to put up with the ship's schedules and wait for eight bells on Dog Watch. Then he would find her waiting--again. She didn't know how he did his work,with all the demands she made of him.

Setting: Sitting alone in the ancient stone ring, watching the shadow of the full moon.
 
Setting: Sitting alone in the ancient stone ring, watching the shadow of the full moon.

Adrian the Misaligned sat with his back against one of the stones. He knew something was wrong with the design, but he couldn't put his finger on the problem. The moon was full, but it did not align with anything. He would have to wait until the sun was up, to walk out the measurements once more. He would not have to wait long - tomorrow was the longest day, midsummer.

Dawn. From where he sat, he could see between the two tallest sarcens, straight to the horizon. The sun rose, but all he could see was a shadow, angled in front of him. He stood and measured one long pace to his right. The sun shone through, perfectly aligned...with nothing.

Fuck. The stones were all up, but they were all misaligned. All of his measurements were a megalithic yard out. What the fuck was he going to say to the lads?


Setting: there are two deck chairs facing the sea.
 
Setting: there are two deck chairs facing the sea.

The right hand deck chair looks at the left and says, "This really is the most boring cruise I have ever been on. No one has sat in me for weeks."

"What? Were you asleep? The fattest woman on the boat just sat in you yesterday."

"She did? I must have passed out from lack of circulation to my pillow."

"Go back to sleep."

"I think I will."

Snoring soon can be heard by all the other deckchairs.
 
Snoring soon can be heard by all the other deckchairs.

Zeb, you're supposed to give a new setting so the game chains on. In the absence of one I'll reuse the last one.

Bill was old-fashioned. He never got used to reading from a back-lit computer screen. He lowered his aching body into a chair with his book in hand then caught himself staring absently at the empty deck chair next to him. A year ago Maddy would have been there, but she was gone and he was at the beach resort to put aside all the problems her passing left behind.

He opened his book at the marker and tried to lose himself in the western. Cowboys struggled against a harsh winter and waited for a chinook until a rustle next to him made him look up. Maddy slipped into the vacant chair with her romance novel in hand.

Bill shook his head in disbelief and blinked to clear his vision. Maddy leaned to him and touched his arm. "It's me Bill," she said. "I'm here for now and I'll be here whenever you need me."


Setting: Backstage at the theater, while the ballet plays on stage.
 


Setting: Backstage at the theater, while the ballet plays on stage.



Randolph sighed in frustration.
The Corps de Ballet were galumphing about the stage, making a real racket, accompanied by the discordant crap that one or two thought of as Music. He longed for the rhythms and cadences of Tchaikovsky or someone, but the Master had decreed that "We're doing THIS ONE THIS SEASON".
A pity nobody had told the public, who stayed away in droves, despite glowing reviews in the serious newspapers.


Setting:
The ill-lit corner of a city square.
 
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