Writing being the crazy whimsical pastime that it is, inspiration can suddenly flood in at any moment, drowning you with scenes, lines and concepts which are of the utmost importance. For me, these moments occur regularly and randomly. Sometimes they are about the same story. Other times they are mere flashes that string together as if my brain were assembling a movie trailer (complete with soundtrack). Some of you out there may understand… many of you most likely are phoning the people with the lovely white jackets on my behalf. Whatever the case may be, tonight I am going to take you on another journey, but this time into my flashes of inspiration.

So sometimes, I talk to myself. I’ve mentioned this before, so this should come as no surprise (depending on when you’ve joined… if you’re new, Hi! I’m TJ, and I talk to myself! Now you’re up to speed…). These conversations can lead to insanely inspiring scenes of awesome moments. Sometimes just a line itself begs to be written down and never forgotten. Tonight’s post is brought to you by a journey for water, in the middle of the night. Everything is completely unrelated to that… now, enjoy the fragments of my ideas and wonder how I piece together stories from these.

***

“I’ll never forget you.”

“Try.”

A knight clad in demonic armour forces a two storey pair of doors closed and drops the security bar into place. With a single bloodied hand, he leans against the door. I won’t forget you. A clattering of footsteps enter the room behind him and snap him from his daydream.

“Well. If it isn’t the fallen paladin… God abandoned you to the depths of hell did he?” A man sneers with a laugh. The other men chuckle as they enter the room.

“I wouldn’t know anything about God.” The demon knight narrows his eyes as he glances over his shoulder. Fifteen. He thinks to himself. Fifteen I can handle.

***

A ball of flame descended from the heavens and rained fire and ash down upon the kingdom of the Magi. Being the last of the fire Magi, Lorell ran desperately through the streets as he screamed, “Petra! Petra!” Finally he spotted her as she ran from a burning building.

Without a second thought, Lorell embraced her and patted out the flames with his bare hands. “Petra… oh thank the gods you’re alright.” As he held her tight, he could feel his body tingle. “We have to get out of here!” He yelled as the roaring inferno in the sky rumbled toward the kingdom. “It’s going to-” Suddenly, Petra went limp in his arms. “Petra?! Petra!!!” Lorell watched as her skin began to blister and burn. “No! There’s no time!” He clutched her close and pulled his cape around her. The sky grew bright and the earth shook ferociously. Then in an instant, all was seemingly over.

Lorell opened his eyes and stared into the pile of ash in his hands. He couldn’t recognise her any more, but he knew who and what it was he was holding. Standing straight up, the ashes drifted away into the breeze… Lorell looked lifelessly at the scorched earth around him. Organics turned to ash, bricks melted, metals ran tiny streams in the road. His immunity to fire had paid off. But it certainly didn’t feel like it.

***

As the police arrived, the train driver was sitting on the side of the road, still visibly shaken.

“Is that him?” Asked a broad shouldered detective, staring down a small man in a blue police uniform.

The smaller man leapt to attention as he realised who he was talking to. “Yes, Detective. That’s him.”

Walking up to the driver, the Detective sat down next to him. “Coffee?” He asked politely. The driver replied by shaking his head. The Detective smiled. “Good thing too, I only brought one of these. Want to tell me about it?”

“He-he fell, no jumped! He jumped from the overpass!” The driver exclaimed. People had been waiting for this moment, and the area went silent.

“Whoa slow down bud…” The Detective’s silver tongue calming the man a tiny bit. “He jumped in front of you?”

“Yes! I couldn’t have stopped, or missed!” The driver was nearly shouting, the attention of all around were beginning to stare.

The detective scratched his chin. “Well then, where’s the body?”

“Uhh detective?” A small bald police officer asked in hushed tones, in hopes that he wouldn’t be too much of an interruption. “You may want to see this.”

As the pair stared at the front of the train, the detective shook his head. “Call it in.” He said calmly.

The young officer peered up at his mentor. “Are you-“

“Yes,” The detective interrupted. “It’s not every day you see something like this.”

The detective watched as the younger officer walked away and then turned back to the front of the train. He stared at the perfect outline of a human like figure, dented into the front of the train. “Incredible… just incredible.”

***

As the small army of rebels began to retreat, the king pushed his men into pursuing them and killing them all to the last man. “Leave none alive! Not even the children and livestock!” He yelled, cackling in his glory. “But bring me their heads on pikes, so that I may revel in their agony and defeat every morning before dawn, and each night after dusk!”

As the king rose to inspect his newly acquired lands, his right hand knight Zero, removed his helmet. With astonishment, the king recognised him as the rebel leader. “You, how long have you…”

“Long enough to understand war. Understand people. Understand you.” The rebel said as the others also removed their helms. “You lead your men into the valley where my archers will kill them to the last man. Your people deserve better. They deserve a real king.”

“A real king? There have been no heirs in a thousand years!” The king scoffed. “You’d have more chance finding unicorn horns!”

“Yet here I stand… a testament to the love between the elves and humans, once. I come to unite the races and lead them into battle. A war is brewing…” The rebel sighed. “I am the final son of Balthazaar, prince of elves and Merida, queen of men. I am a man with the gift of eternal life.”

***

“Why, hello my boy! What’s your name?”

The boy shocked from his wonder, turned to see a round man in an ill fitting black suit twirling the tip of his fiery red moustache.

“Jefferson, Sir.” Instinctively the boy hung his head as he was taught to, out of respect for his betters.

“Chin up, Jefferson, you won’t see a thing staring at the ground!” The man tipped the boy’s chin up with his finger. “Only ten dollars to see the greatest show in the world!”

Sadness washes over Jefferson as he turned his pockets inside out. A small smooth pebble falls to the ground and both watch it roll to the man’s foot.

“A fine specimen! May I?” Looking to Jefferson’s innocent face for permission, the man smiles warmly. Jefferson shrugs with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. The man stoops to pick up the tiny pebble and polishes it on his shirt. “Thank you very much! A bit of spit and polish…” With a quick spit and some more rubbing from his shirt, the man produces a gemstone. “Perfect! This is worth roughly thirty dollars my boy!” He produces a twenty dollar bill from the breast of his jacket. “I assume you’d still love to see the show, so this should suffice as payment.” With a bow and a smile, the man vanished into the crowd.

***

His brother’s lifeless eyes stared deep into his soul, judging him through and through. I’ve done the right thing… haven’t I? As he met his empty gaze, the swordsman withdrew the blade from the stomach of his victim. After all the searching, after all the hunting… he had finally managed to kill the last of the Templars.

***

Those are just a few images and moments from my mind tonight. Now I am tired, and I’m pretty sure I open at work tomorrow… so I must be off! I have so many more fragments so I’ll keep you posted to also see what piques your interest! Hope you’ve enjoyed and I’ve got a question! How do you manage your ideas? Write them all down separately? Convert them into the current story idea? Or leave them alone until you’re ready? Let me know and I’ll talk to you soon!