A Prompt RP for Anyone at Anytime

Prompt Nineteen

Noir


From across the room, Jack watched as she blew smoke out of her glossy lips and flashed a quick but disarming smile. Well, Jack thought. She doesn’t look like a murderer.
Elegantly, Matilda pulled the 100 (100mm cigarette) away from her mouth as she gracefully draped her body over the chair, giving Jack her partial attention. “Why have you insisted in me coming to your office, Freeman? Is everything copacetic?”
Jack leaned in, as if the answers he was giving her were a secret. “You’re no Dumb Dora, Ms Sparrow, we know what went down at the Gin Mill.”


@RPers, anyone can take a character from this post and just join the prompt.

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RPsy Janey Orange


Janey dashed down the corridor. “I’m late, I’m late!”
She whispered, trying to avoid a man in the hall. She couldn’t look back, but heard his drink had spilled. “Sorry!” She called back as she rounded the corner sharply. Janey rushed passed the door in her haste. She skidded to a halt and stepped back several times. She tucked her auburn hairs behind her ears and knocked on the door. She nodded her apology, her bright blue eye shining behind a thin framed pair of glasses. “Sorry I’m late,” she said as she swiftly took a seat in the back of the room.

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“A woman in spectacles with a crop of auburn hair and plump stout thighs walked into my office,” narrated the man sat behind a desk. He was hatless, as it rested on the desk next to the typewriter that one hand was poised over. The other hand was holding a cigar that he’d recently been puffing on; the room was a cloud of smoke. The man’s shirt was awry, his tie was loose, and his legs were stretched out on the corner of the desk, ankles crossed. “Williams didn’t recognise the woman and wondered if she had indeed stumbled into the wrong office.”

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Hey @RPers, any can continue either of these two scene happening above for prompt 19… OR start a new one with a noir story!

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Ms Sparrow held the thinly veiled smile, choosing so to only answer with another drag from her ciggy. She knew, and more so, had chosen to arrive today knowing that he was here to interrogate her. It made the game all the more elusive, although Jack was nothing new himself.

It was the perfume for him, that wafted and choked the air out more than the fumes from each puff, and yet somehow familiar. He leaned forwards, resting his chin on his hands and for a fraction, her smile shifted again. Where exactly had he caught that fragrance before?

“Mr Freeman, when asked a question, I’d expect a response. My time is precious and while I’ve set aside some of it for you, no one can be too greedy with what they have.” Maybe she detected the same conclusions he was leaning towards.

“How about I tell you a story,” Jack responded, “I’m sure the authorities are having a ball trying to piece together the nightclub, but I think you’ll be very much interested in this little tale.” Of course, the perfume did stand out for a reason. It was Jack’s turn to hide a smile, a knowing feeling that allowed him to rest back against his seat.

“You see, I have a colleague,” Jack continued, “We’ll call him Mr Williams. He had quite a strange encounter not too long ago with an interesting Ms Orange. It was only through his manuscripts that I came across this story. He has an excellent penchant for literature.”

If Matilda recognized this Ms Orange character, she didn’t betray anything, though Jack expect that to change soon.

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Prompt Twenty


Zac woke up in large, clean and white king-sized bed. His yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes to remove any gunk before opening them. A foot kicked his leg, he had been too loud. “Ouch,” he muttered. … WAIT! A foot? He lived alone.
“Maisie, quiet. Why are you not more hungover?”, a voice said, which Zac could only assume came from the foot’s owner.
“Uh, sorry chick, think you needa wake and go home,” Zac told her groggily.
“Lay off it, Maise, we are home.”
Zac’s eyes flew open at the mention of being home and saw one large recessed light in the white ceiling above the bed. Sitting upright, he didn’t see his messy place, but a spacious apartment with a modern interior. Nothing around him that he recognised. Turning to the bedside table where his phone lay, he picked it up. Two things struck him as he stared at the reflection in dark screen.
One, it wasn’t his phone.
Two, it wasn’t his reflection.


Maisie’s head was throbbing. Not just from the intense alcohol-induced headache she had from the before, but also from the odours in her nose. It twitched, getting a stronger mix of spices and sweaty gym socks. Making her insides turn, she rolled over on her pillow only making the smell of body odour stronger.
“Keeleigh, it’s too early for laundry. Why are you more hungover?”, she complained, in a voice much deeper than her own.
In reply, a shout from outside the room, in a language that she didn’t understand.
“What?” Maisie sat bolt upright, eyes springing open. Within seconds of looking at her surroundings, she worked out that part of the smell came from the various piles of masculine clothing around the room. Although shock hit her when she looked down at her hairy brown masculine arms.


DING DONG!
Kartik rolled over in bed.
DING DONG!
“MA!”, Kartik called out loudly. No answer. So he yelled out to her in Hindi, “Get the door.” Then again, when he got no answer, he rolled out of bed. Feet on the hard wood floor, adjusting his pyjama shorts and shirt unconsciously, he tried to leave the room. SMACK! Kartik face hit the wall. He groaned and felt for the door frame along the wall, which was about a metre away. Finding it, he stumbled out into the unfamiliar hall, feeling for the banister at the top of the stairs. Not feeling it, he finally opened his eyes to a hall that wasn’t his parents’ home.
DING DONG! DING DONG!
Looking up the short hallway to the semi-transparent glass door at the end, he carefully walked to it, checking in the three other rooms on the way - no one was in them. Kartik opened the door to an older woman and a small boy. “Mummy,” the small boy screamed and his legs.
Kartik cringed, looking at the woman for a little help. She didn’t. She only looked at him with disapproval. “Still in bed, Viktoria, it’s nine o’clock.”


Vikki was already awake, had been for almost half an hour. She was ignoring the splitting headache from the excessive drinking from the night before. She was just staring; staring at her reflection in a large sliding wardrobe door-mirror. She was a he; shirtless and not too bad looking, but a he nevertheless. Though a little more butch, the room was similar to her own in style; both were a mix of modern-retro and homey. It would have been nice had it not been for the fact that she wasn’t in her own body.
Vikki looked at the time on the bedside clock. 9:04. Little Zayn would be being dropped off soon, at her house. She dashed out of the room and ran through an unknown house. Opening the door straight opposite, she lay eyes on another male behind it. It was the bathroom and he was peeing.
“Dude, what the-”
She shut the door pronto and raced down the hall until she found the kitchen, where a second male ate breakfast. “Woah, Zac, where’s the fire?”
She looked at him and asked gruffly, “Phone?”
He gave her a confused expression and pointed to the corner of a bench. She rushed over and dialled her home number.


@RPers, anyone can take a character from this post and just join the prompt.

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Kartik


‘Viktoria’

Now it was Kartik’s turn to almost snort a laughter, which appeared more to the innocent kid and the lady that Viktoria had officially lost her mind. What perplexed the two even more was ‘Viktoria’ uttering something in a totally foreign language, a curse in Hindi, and continued to laugh.

"Dang it, man! Looks like I watched too many cinemas last night. They’re even haunting me in my dreams. , he quipped as his thoughtful yet comical speculation. “'Kay, very good. Get lost now. Gotta get up and go to college.”, he was about to close the door. He must have control over his own dream right? But kid irritatingly clung to his leg even more, pouting his lips as if he was about to cry. “Mummy! Why aa youw talking like that?”, the poor boy was scared.

Kartik or Viktoria nose scrunched up at the sight of some of random boy calling him, 'mummy’ making his pants dirty with his snot. “Eh?! What’s wrong with you?! Eww!”, he exclaimed and that moment he realised that the voice was not his own.

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Viktoria . . . and partly Kartik


“What did you drink last night, Zac?”, cereal man asked. “Better yet, why did last night have to be the one I could make?!”
Vikki ignored him, listening to the ringing in the receiver.


Viktoria’s mother stared. “Are you feeling alright, darling? Shall I come in and take care of you both today?”
Kartik stared back, then down at the kid. “You know me? You sure you know-” The phone started ringing before he could finish. He turned his head to see where the ringing was coming from.
But the boy let go of his leg and said, “I’ww geth it, mummy,” running happily down the hall.


Vikki waited impatiently, worried about her boy. At least until she heard his voice on the other end, “Hewwo, I am Zayn on the phone.”
“Zayn, my big boy,” she told him with relief, obviously not with her voice. “Is grandma or grandpa there?”
“Who aa you?”
“It’s… Vikki. Can you get one of them, please?”
“Who?” Zayn dropped the phone on the floor and ran off yelling, “Mummy, Vikki is in the phone.”

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Vikki is Viktoria’s sister?

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No, Vikki is Viktoria, but in Zac’s body.
So Vikki is in Zac’s body, Zac is in Maisie’s body, Maisie is in Kartik’s body, and Kartik is in Vikki’s body.

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A post was merged into an existing topic: RPers General Chat

Kartik


The old lady’s addressing as ‘darling’ though put him more in a state of uneasiness, her tone resembled Kartik’s mother’s concerned one and that resemblance alone gave him an idea that she could be Viktoria’s, or whoever the f–k they were mistaking him with, mother. The hypothesis of lucid dream was dwindling, but whatever conclusion that was being hinted was even more ridiculous. “Look, boy, and, uh, madam, I think there’s a mis–”

He left the rest of the sentence hanging the air, as the kid with runny nose dashed off to receive the call, and Kartik as though finally got a moment to take a breath. There was some ‘Vikki’ on the phone as reported by the boy and Kartik could not care less. On the other hand, Viktoria’s mother had begun to suspect that it was some elaborate and mean prank Viktoria and her friends might be pulling on her.

‘Waiiiiiiiit! Vik-Vikki! As in Viktoria?!’ - popped up in Kartik’s brain in a light-bulb moment. “Vikki?! But Vikki is with u-”, Viktoria’s mother was saying, now growing impatient, and to be honest she was too old to be dealing with these childish pranks. "My babyyy!", Kartik suddenly exclaimed at the little boy with exaggerated sweetness of female voice he found himself uttering. “Th-That’s my friend! Give me the phone. A-And go to your grandma, yeah? I need to talk in private!”, he did not even give the kid a chance to respond and snatched away the phone shooing him away to his grandma still standing at the doorstep.

“Hello, um, Miss Viktoria?”, he asked in a lowered voice, “I don’t know how the f–k but, I think I’m in your house and, as weird as it sounds, in your body”, he said and even couldn’t even believe what nonsense he was blabbering.

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Viktoria


Vikki waited, hearing her boy run to someone that wasn’t her filled her heart with dread and pain. She couldn’t make out what else was being said, not until what sounded like her answered the phone. Her eyes bulged in disbelief at herself answer the phone. What was happening? How was this even possible? She had somehow switched bodies with a man she didn’t even know.
She flicked her eyes up to the cereal man, who was staring at her with his spoon hovering above the bowl. She turned her back to him and spoke with a hushed sarcastic voice, “You think? I’m in yours too.” She then lowered her voice even more. “I’m going to come over to you and we’ll sort this out. If my mother is still there, can you send her home? Then just read a book with Zayn, just, you know, stay still. Don’t go anywhere. Look after him.”

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Kartik


Sending the mom home? Should be okay, he guessed. Reading the boy a book? Would be better if he got video games. Looking after him? LoOkiNG aFtEr A cHiLd?! Kartik’s mother had given up nagging him long ago and Kartik still could not take care of himself. The 26 year old unemployed boy used to wake up at 12 o’ clock in noon, didn’t lift a finger and played video games all day - shame in an Indian household. And some random girl who swapped bodies with him was asking a “grown-up” child to take care of another child. Kartik glanced at the boy again. His nose was still running. Kartik gulped. “Look I’m–Ugh, what place is this? Where do you liv—?”, he asked just to know how long he would have to endure this torture but she hung up.

He put down the receiver and sighed. Now how do I fix this? They’re probably weirded out. - he thought and turned around to get this over with, because explaining this…this accident, which he himself was clueless about, to an old lady would be too much. He forced a smile. “Sorry M-mom, I was a bit… I didn’t get a blink of sleep last night, yes, so woke up late in a cranky mood.” , he made up an excuse and rubbed his forehead.

“It’s okay, dear”, the lady gave him a hug, “You got me worried for a second there. Now take a day off and rest okay? I’ll get going now” and with that the lady left. The little guy, Zayn, was it?, was still looking at his mother with a rather confused look. Kartik face-palming himself, “Go get a handkerchief and wipe your nose, please. It’s so gross”, he said and plopped down on the couch falling asleep almost immediately.

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Viktoria


She pressed end on the phone and cupped it in her other hand, looking at the cereal man. “I, uh, have to go out… guy. Might talk to you later.” Before he could answer, much less question her, she hung up the phone and asked, “My car is… no, I’ll find it.” Aware that she’d already be acting a lot stranger than normal, she left the kitchen quickly and went to find her room.
The man from the bathroom was walking out as she zipped past and the the room. “What’s the rush, Z?” She ignored him by shutting the bedroom door behind her and exhaling loudly. Looking around her, the room was relatively clean, but what on Earth was she to put on? She hadn’t a clue what this man had and what he would wear, but this wasn’t really a time to worry about it. Going over and sliding open the wardrobe door-mirror, she saw two hanging shelves full of t-shirts, hoodies, and jeans. Grabbing one of each, she through them on over the short pair of cotton shorts she had on. Vikki was not wanting to see what was underneath them.
Her eyes glanced over the bedside table to where a set of keys lay with a handy Holden keyring. Once grabbing the keys, she rushed outside after taking only one wrong turn. Blaring sunlight greeted her and her hand automatically went to shield her eyes. Two of three cars out there were Holdens, a blue and a red one. Luckily, cereal man was getting into the blue one that was parked in the drive next to an old silver Nissan. He gave her a nod before Vikki raced off to the red Holden.

Vikki ran the doorbell to her own house for the fourth time. Finally, the door opened and Zayn answered the door. Vikki was relieved to see him and that he was okay.
“Mummy,” Zayn yelled behind him. “Some man is at the door.”



Zac


His reflection was not his and his first thought was to look down. Dropping the phone on the sheet between his sprawled legs, he pulled the tight t-shirt’s collar away from the body he was in and looked down. His chest was bigger… because he had breasts. At that point, the foot’s owner had rolled over and glared at her through squinting eyes. “Are you checking yourself out?”, she queried.
“What?”, he responded, startled, dropping the shirt.
“Isn’t that my job?”, she asked with a sly smile, moving her hand over his stomach and under his shirt.



Maisie


She heard foreign language again, yelling this time. Only making out one word, Kartik, but not knowing what it meant. Then she made out another word, Rishika, which she guessed was the name of the female who replied her. “But ma, he’s still asleep. Can I just go there myself? I’m going to be late.” More Hindi followed and then a defeated sigh came from the girl, Rishika, which seconds later had her bursting into Kartik’s room. “Get up, lazybones, you gotta take-” She faltered upon seeing him already sitting up. But that didn’t slow her down, only change her words slightly, “-You’re taking me into town to meet my friends. Ma said. I need go, like five minutes ago.”
“What?”, Maisie groaned in her new deeper voice. “Who are-”
“Kartik, get up and take me now or I’ll tell mum about the goree ladakee I saw you kissing in your Uber home last night. So get up, lazybones, I’ll grab your keys and wait in the car.”
“Okay,” was Maisie’s only reply after Rishika left the room. Then pulled herself up onto her feet and grabbed a pair of track-pants and sneakers from the floor. As well as a sweatshirt, which she threw on as she left the room and stumbled downstairs. Luckily, the front door was open, making it easily to navigate outside.

Rishika was tossing the keys upwards and catching them again. “Hey, I know you’ll probably say no like you usually do, but I have my learners and you are the BEST big brother ever! Can I please drive?”
Maisie found herself finally realising the situation she was in in this person’s body. She had to drive, someone who avoided it at all cost generally. This was not ideal. “Can I?”
“Of course, if you’re in the car.” She clapped her hands together, excitedly, over the keys.
“Go on then.” Maisie let out a relieved sigh.



@RPers, here’s an extra prompt post to add to.

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