November 14, 2017 :: Today's Words: 1,300 :: Total Words: 12,949

Your character sees a news report that 49 examples of cider have disappeared. What's going on?

Ensconced in her room at the consulate, Robin turned on the television set and sat on the bed to flip through the channels. An odd image caught her attention on one of the news channels, and she turned up the volume.

“…49 samples of cider have been stolen from the museum in Frankfurt, Germany,” said the announcer. “There are no leads so far, but police are optimistic.” The report went on to explain how difficult it would be to unload these particular bottles of cider without being noticed, and urged viewers to contact authorities if they saw anything suspicious.

Robin shook her head and continued flipping through the channels. As unbelievable as the maple syrup heist in Canada a few years ago.

Did your character just see Throh? Or was it something else?

Timothy was outside in the front yard with his suction arrow archery set, aiming for the plastic target that came in the package. He’d set it up so that it was hanging from the fencepost and was standing near the front walk.

A shadow fell over him and he let his arrow fly. It hit the outside blue ring, which wasn’t too bad given that his first two shots had flown wide.

He turned to see who was there and froze.

Looming over him was a red creature in a white karate uniform.

“Throh?” he asked when he found his voice.

The Pokémon nodded silently.

“Why are you here?”

No answer.

Timothy’s mother opened the door and called him to bring in his toys and have lunch. He waved an acknowledgement to her and when he turned back to Throh, the Pokémon was gone.

Timothy sighed and collected his arrows and target. He hoped that either the Pokémon would stop showing up or he would find out what was going on soon.

Your character has a sudden craving for Nanimo bars ice-cream.

Robin arrived early at the stadium where the concert was being held. She was ushered to her seat and left to her own devices. She watched the preparations with interest.

Alya’s music was interesting. Robin quite enjoyed the concert and found herself excited to meet the singer afterwards. She went to the stage door and waited with a few other breathless fans (all teenagers, she noted ruefully) for a security guard to let her backstage.

She hung back from the groupies, partly because she wasn’t the type to fawn all over someone and partly because she needed to talk to Alya alone. Finally the singer turned to her.

“And you,” she said in heavily accented English. “You are older than my usual fans.”

Robin smiled. “I am. My name is Robin. This is the first concert of yours that I’ve been to. I really enjoyed it.”

Alya smiled back. “I am glad.”

Robin looked around. “I am Canadian,” she said. “I would like to speak with you privately, if that’s allowed?”

Alya nodded and directed her to a small room with the singer’s name on it. “I will join you shortly.”

Robin went into the dressing room and sat down on a couch. The room was comfortable and very pretty, but not extravagant.

Then the craving hit.

Nanaimo bars, which she was certain they would not have in Armenia.

And, naturally, ice cream, because that’s all she wanted lately.

She sighed. It would be so lovely to have the cravings disappear. It would also be nice to know why they’d hit so suddenly, and so strongly.

Alya finally entered the room and closed the door behind her. She sat down in the chair in front of the dressing table and turned to face Robin.

“You have the package?” she asked, her tone anxious.

Robin nodded and retrieved the box from her purse. “Right here.”

Alya took the box and opened it. She counted the contents silently, then looked up at Robin. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this is needed.”

“I’m glad I could be of service,” Robin replied. The desire to eat Nanaimo bars and ice cream grew stronger. “I should probably go now,”

“Oh, of course,” said Alya. She stood up and opened the door for Robin and gave her a brief hug as she passed. “Thank you again.”

Robin smiled and nodded, then headed for the door. She needed to get back to the consulate and see if they had Nanaimo bars on hand. She was getting desperate.

Your character loses their prized possession: some Fanta. How do they react?

Achird sat down at his desk and sighed. He was thirsty. It had been a long day. He was tired, he hadn’t had enough to eat, and everything seemed extra-hard at the moment.

He reached below his desk and pressed upward on a small button near the back. This released the pin holding the trap door closed, and it swung downward. Achird put his hand up into the small compartment and felt around.

There was nothing there.

He crawled underneath the desk and looked as best he could.

Definitely nothing in the compartment.

They must have found his secret hiding spot while he was out in the courtyard for exercise. Now he would be denied the pleasure of a can of orange Fanta.

His last real carnal pleasure, denied.

He filled his cup at the sink and drank a glass of water to ease his thirst, but of course it wasn’t the same.

He sat again at his desk and retrieved his holy book and began to read. Nanna was always there for him.

A mysterious stranger gives your character a quest. They must deliver hot cocoa with baileys to Eritrea.

Jigme found Alaina in her small room, counting her possessions for the hundredth time.

“We have it,” he said quietly.

Alaina stood and slung her pack over her shoulder. Once she had the plans in hand, she would leave immediately for the plane so that Travis could fly her to their next destination.

She followed Jigme down the hall to the room where she had first met Sabitri. Sabitri was there, of course, but so were the members of the crew she had met when she first arrived and enlisted Jigme’s assistance.

Jigme picked up a flash drive from the desk and handed it to her. “Here. This is what you need.”

Alaina nodded and put the device in her pocket. “You didn’t bring me here to give me something you could have given me in my room.”

Jigme nodded and gestured to the men behind him. One of them stepped forward. He was holding the end of a leash that was attached to the chains around a young man, obviously a captive.

“They are going with you,” said Jigme. “They are to be taken to Eritrea.”

“Eritrea?” Alaina frowned. “Why Eritrea?”

“It is vital that they get there. Don’t worry about why.” He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a box. “When you get there, give this to the man who meets you. I promised him I would send it soon.”

Alaina looked inside the box. “Hot chocolate mix and Baileys? Really?”

He grinned. “He wants to taste the real thing. I am providing it. You will note that there is also a mug in the box. You may need to show him how to mix them properly.”

Alaina smiled, understanding dawning. This had been their drink, the thing they drank all through the long winter she had been in Bhutan. She nodded and stepped back. “Thank you, Jigme. For everything,” she said quietly.

He nodded and reached out a hand to Sabitri, who took it and leaned into him with a smirk. Alaina looked at her two new companions.

“Let’s go,” she barked, and left. This chapter of her life was, finally, truly over.