Monday, October 16, 2006

Round Robin

Let's tell a story in a Round Robin style. Here's how it works: I'll provide the 1st paragraph. In the comments section, the first commenter will write the 2nd paragraph (or lines of dialogue). The second commenter will read write the 3rd paragraph. We'll keep going until it gets much, much too silly to continue, or if someone comes up with a natural ending.

The rules:

1) It's a story, not a competition. Don't negate the previous storytellers' contributions with claims that "it was all a dream" or killing everyone off willy-nilly.

2) Give the next person something with which to work. Setting a character up for a line of dialogue is fair.

3) No eating all the chocolate-covered strawnberries while the current storyteller is contributing to the round robin (did I mention that we often told these stories during tea-parties in college?).

The 1st paragraph:

When Ember, the youngest daughter of Xerxes the blacksmith, became apprenticed to Oren the tailor, no one would have thought the girl would have adventures any more exciting than accidentally stepping upon straight-pins or dropping thimbles into cold cups of tea. “The quiet life of a seamstress will be more becoming to my little girl than the grueling work of the smithy,” Xerxes said. Ember knew her father suffered from guilt over dropping the anvil on her foot and making her lame for life, so she didn’t contradict him, but she would have rather stayed in the smithy than worked for Oren the tailor. Oren was a cantankerous man with haughty airs and a weak chin, but he had no children of his own, and Xerxes had eight. It was only fair that someone like Ember would leave her family to become the apprentice to someone else in the village. Nonetheless, Ember decided that the first chance she could, she would run away.

Your turn!


The Moy said...

So when she limped over to Oren's carrying her tiny bundle of possessions, it was with a mulish look in her eye that should have put her new employer instantly on his guard, in spite of her size -- or rather her lack of it. Ember was quite small for her age, and years of being the youngest and littlest in a large hungry family had left her lean, short, and very protective of her plate at dinnertime. Most of her siblings had learned that she was, in fact, sharp-tongued, with a keen grasp of the slow absorbant insult and if pushed, quick to pinch or even bite. She was as tender of her own dignity as any small, easily underestimated creature is likely to be. Most strangers, however, saw only the pale gold hair, the delicate build, and the china doll features. Most strangers who presumed on that got a very rude awakening.

Nonny said...

I'm not ignoring this post. I'm thinking. You're asking an awful lot of me for a Monday. Would it be totally out of character for her to pull out a sawed off shotgun and just go postal?

Alkelda the Gleeful said...

The Moy: Thank you! You exceeded my hopes.:) Nonny: It's up to you, but I don't quite see it. You are welcome to introduce a new character who could indeed go postal. Did I just ruin your fun?!

BlueMamma said...

she tried to be polite, she really did. she meant to drop a respectful curtsey, and say "good morning sir," upon seeing her new employer. instead, the curtsey came out as an awkward little half bhow, and something tumbled out of her pack, and out of her mouth came a word commonly heard round the smithy, but perhaps not so appropriate for a tailor's shop. expecting to have her ears boxed, she kept her eyes fixed on the ground and waited. when the expected blow did not come, she ventured a look from under her lowered brows. oren was looking her up and down, stern faced - by was that a tiny hint of amusement in his eye? no, it couldn't be.

Lone Star Ma said...

If Oren was, indeed, amused, he was not interested in letting his little apprentice know it just yet. Fortunately for Ember, he also did not seem inclined to box her ears or otherwise abraid her for her smithy-reared tongue. He simply muttered something about the cot and led her through the tailor shop to the rooms in which he and his ailing wife lived.

Lady K said...

LMAO at nonny. Oh shoot that cracked me up. I am thinking, as well. I was out of it on Monday so I didn't get to this post until I was up for sitting in front of the computer for awhile. Hmmm...

Alkelda the Gleeful said...

I think that I made this post too detailed. I should have started off with something along the lines of "Once there was a boy and he ate grasshoppers. One day, as he was foraging for these little beasties, he found something in the grass that made him stop short."

And then you go.

Next time, friends, next time. In the meantime, thank you for your contributions to this Ember story. I enjoyed reading them!