Huh. I thought I was asking for a list of team activities like "design a haunted house," not a list of individual activities that add up to one group activity. But after really thinking about your prompt, whether it was serious or sarcastic, you've made me realize that heist movies are sort of a lens through which I can view this problem of coming up with a goal for a team to pursue.

For your prompt, specifically, I kind of feel like those last two steps, anyone could do? And a real bank robbery would probably want somebody with combat training to bail their asses out or at least some means to create a distraction if the plan goes south, depending on the tone and setting? And without a method for laundering the money, they'll have trouble spending it?

But this is a start. I'll work with this.

Edit: Yeah, okay. This is starting to come together...

I'm not sure if I can do a whole heist movie in a single post, though. It's kind of a lot of character introduction and buildup to get through. I could do just the heist scene itself, but if the audience doesn't already know the characters, they won't care as much what happens to them.

Hmmm... maybe if I focus on one specific character at the start of the heist, and Underdog them early on in a way that doesn't compromise the mission...

haven't been here for all that long, but I really enjoy the prompts which map MMO:RPG elements onto a general fantasy setting, and like, explores the consequences of them.

those are my jam. :)

I really like this. part 2 would be great

Thank you! I was writing fast so I appreciate the correction

P.S - This is my first post! I’m really nervous, but so excited! I hope you enjoy!

The morning was hot, the sun was shining; glistening the sweat beads that pooled on Mika’s perfectly tamed copper brows. It was warmer than most days in May, but after over a century of visiting her favorite resort she was prepared; her small white sundress hugged every inch of her curves in a way that I once did; all those years ago. Despite my shock, I should’ve known. I should’ve known then that Mika was like me.

Taking a deep breath, I walked my way over to the other lounge chair that sat under her large blue and white stripped umbrella; I had to do this now, or I’d lose the courage I’d mustered. I sat in the chair, not lounging or laying, but I sat with my feet in the warm sand and faced her. She quickly saw me, and whipped her head to look at who could be so forward; and her jaw dropped. “Pascual?” She asked gently, her voice was as velvet as ever; and her eyes were still that Pistachio green. The exact same shade.

“Long time no see,” I said softly, unable to look at anything besides her.

“You haven’t aged a day,” I whispered, suddenly beginning to feel like I was living in a dream, a daydream of years past. One where, years ago, we had just met. Where we had had our first kiss.

“Likewise,” she said, calculating me. She sat up now, turning to face me and sitting in the exact same manner as I. “How have you been?” It was a small question, in it, meaning that was several layers deep.

I sighed, determining a proper response. “I’ve seen better days, I’m afraid.” I shook my head, what about you?” She shrugged, “I’ve been around. It’s been a few years since I’ve been back on this sand, it was calling to me from the Mountains. I answered,” she smiled, her slightly uneven and white teeth shining in the sun.

“It’s difficult to resist the sound,” I nodded once, at this point, I looked at my toes. I couldn’t keep eye contact with her. “Does it ever get easier?” I asked gently. “Does it get easier? Or do you just get used to it?”

“In regard to which?” She asked me gently.

“You get used to it.” Was all she said.

That was all I needed.

Okay that's actually pretty funny.

"Why.

"Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why?!"

"Well, why not."

Cheese

Clever. I would read an entire book with this universe.

--create a list of goals by asking a group of people on the internet to provide them.

Nice, I personally was thinking of items that for one reason or more are not going to be comfortable to use in public as it would raise suspicion unless certain conditions are met, so they wouldn't appear as suspicious or odd to warrant inquiry or a quick question. I have couple examples on my mind.

Poor girl, unable to just quit :( good story!

"This is going to get worse before it gets better."

Whoa, okay. I like your explanation better.

—steal a car

—hack into the traffic cameras and turn them off

—drug the receptionist

—break into the vault

—switch cars not to get caught

—flee into a different country using a ship

I jumped back with a yelp of surprise before I crawled back to the box, pulling it inside and closed the door. I stuck my hand into the box and pulled out a letter, my hands shaking as I gazed at what lay beside it.

It was a severed hand with a distinct date tattooed on it. 2013/11/28 I'd seen this tattoo many times before; it was the day my sister-in-law was born.This hand belonged to my boyfriend.

I held the note in my hand, shaking. He had gone missing three days ago. Three days ago I was looking forward to a birthday spent with someone. I took a moment to calm down before looking down at the letter and beginning to read it.

Dear Grayson

First off, happy birthday! I've got good news: Your boyfriend, Danni, is alive.

He is going to live for the time being. I just needed to borrow him for you to gather some motivation to do something for me.

I crumpled up the letter and threw it across the room. "No, no, no," I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. I couldn't start this again. No, I quit that job; I couldn't handle it any longer. I took a moment to collect myself, picked the letter back up again, uncrumpling it with care, and continued to read on.

There's someone I need taken out of the picture; he's disrupting my business. His name is Floyd Young; kill him.

You kill him, take a picture, and meet me at Violet Park in a week to show me the picture. I'll return your boyfriend to your house before you have time to get home.

You lie, and I kill Dannie. Simple enough

There was no name at the bottom; I didn't know who Floyd was; all I knew was that I had to kill him. I wasn't going to have another person die because I was too scared to return to my old job. I learned then that an assassin can never retire.

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"Welcome, we are Earth's Last Hope. Grim? Yes! A quality shopping experience? Also, yes! if you wish to find our shop please continue to the northwes..." The irregular rhythm and revving behind the voice was blatant, my frustration began seeping out,

"You'd think voice automation would be more advanced in a building meant for a job of this caliber, no?"

"It's bold of the fresh meat to be picky this early, Roy, and laughable you think we get any of that sweet, sweet taxpayer money. Nobody knows we exist."

"you're right, Dean, just been stressed all day, after the peer reviews I've been damn near concussed by this headache"

"I'm all too familiar with that electric pain behind the eyes, I think it's best we take a left to the ELH"

it's pretty evident the shop's a victim of low funds, the early morning buzz from the workers around us is worse in the shopping division, a modernistic look from the 2020's would best describe the interior, however, the neon sign heading the front looked like it had seen the Cold War. As we entered there was a barrage of Items lined on the walls from enchanted ammunition to

"Rizatriptan? headache meds next to heavy artillery?"

"Yeah, you'll need some of that."

"The meds or the artillery, Dean."

"mana is one of the few forms of energy that can be destroyed, however, it seems to have a strong preference towards staying around the short time the unrefined stuff lasts, it looks for a host in everything including us, if it was alive, I'd say it's scared of death"

"Dean... you told me about the magic behind mutants created in Japan before you told me I might need to bring some ibuprofen? to stop magic from invading my body?"

"Well, it's not magic, just the energy which magic relies on, and sometimes the byproduct of magic. Migraines are caused by your own mana levels affecting your brain, in most cases, you might've been exposed to a catalyst like Epinephrine. It is possible to be "invaded" though.

"Not exactly what I had in mind for a promotion." I said, gazing at everything for sale, like a newborn baby soaking in their new world, unfortunately this newborn baby felt like it had been dropped a few times.

"it takes very refined and powerful mana to do any serious harm via "invasion" I do feel bad for those born with great amounts of latent power, living off of medication without knowing the true potential that's behind feeling like your skull is gonna cave in."

"So how do I get my own skull from caving in? you seem to have it under control."

"Well a few of the people here do rely on serious medication if they need it and are important enough to keep around, but once you learn some basics in the field your body should adapt."

"Dean? The field?"

"Yes, Roy."

"Seriously Ulina, is this the only thing you can think of?"

I crossed my arms, staring across the table. On the other side sat a beautiful woman, wearing a shimmering blue dress. Long blonde hair ran down her back, as she stared at me through slitted pupils.

"It works. He comes, we have a nice chat, then you get to go home."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing.

"You do realise he tries to kill you each time, right?"

She gave a nod, the dragoness looking into the distance with a dreamy expression.

"I know, he's wonderful."

I shook my head. It had been funny the first couple of times, but now I was getting annoyed. My parents were talking about ways to protect me, which would limit my own freedom.

"Listen to me Ulina, you can't keep doing this. At some point one of us is going to get hurt. Most likely you. Dad is gathering a group to put you down permanently, and I don't want that to happen."

She dragged her gaze to me, the smile dropping.

"But... what else can I do?"

I gave her a smile, an idea forming.

"Leave it to me."

-----

I watched Alrek enter the cave. As always he wore the armour I had ordered be made for him, along with the sword gifted by my parents. His eyes spun around, looking for both me and danger.

"Up here."

I called out, immediately getting his attention. His head jolted up, seeing me looking from an opening high above him.

"Kayra, thank goodness you are still safe. I'm sorry this keeps happening."

I shrugged.

"It's fine. Listen, come up here as soon as you can. Don't worry, the dragon isn't going to bother you."

He frowned, looking around. I rolled my eyes, calling out for one last time.

"Thats an order!"

I didn't like to always boss him around. But sometimes he needed the shove. He disappeared into the main tunnel, one that would take him to the staircases Ulina had carved. I retreated back to my room, looking over at her as she sat on a rock.

"He's coming."

She shifted nervously. Scales rose up around her eyes, as she momentarily struggled to keep her form. But it passed, and she returned to her normal draconic human look.

After a shirt wait the door opened. Alrek stepped in, looking around. He saw me first, relaxing at the sight of me. But he sook noticed Ulina sitting there, her cheeks reddening slightly at his gaze.

"Right. Alrek, for the next five minutes please just listen. Ulina, talk to him, for the sake of the Sun River."

She looked at me, and I gave an encouraging nod. Alrek had a look of concern, his hand adjusting the grip on his sword.

"Hi A-alrek, um... I'm Ulina, the.. um... dragon and.... I like you."

I could tell how much it took for her to say that. I turned to look at my friend, a small snort escaping my lips. He had never looked so utterly blindsided. I crossed my arms, grinning as he took a moment to find his voice.

"You what?!"

“Okay, so we’ve have tried blowing him up?”

The twitchy assistant with a clipboard and headset flipped through his papers. Sighing, he nodded. “Yes, three times.”

“Three?” The person whom I assumed was the executive producer grunted in frustration. She took a long sip of her coffee as she stared at me. From my cell’s uncomfortable chair, I sat and stared back at her before I gave her a small shrug. “Okay,” she drew the word out as she thought it over. “Gun of some kind?”

The assistant flipped through his notes again. “Yes, many different types.”

The producer rolled her eyes. “God. Okay, I’m just going to list off a bunch of things, and you tell me if we’ve tried them or not. I don’t want to spend another day like yesterday trying to figure it all out.”

The assistant nodded and changed their stance to something resembling a fighter’s stance. “Okay, ready when you are.”

Taking in a deep breath all the while staring me down, she began, “Hanging.”

“Yes.”

“Downing?”

“Yes.”

“Wild animal attack?”

“Multiple.”

“Including a be…”

“Yes, including a bear, tiger, lion triple attack.”

“Gladiator style?”

“Yes, he won by attrition. The rest of the fighters passed out from fatigue after hitting him repeatedly with their weapons.”

“Shit. Okay, military weapons?”

“Of all grades and types excluding nuclear. We decided even he wasn’t worth the literal fallout.”

“Fuck.” She finished her coffee and chucked it into the trashcan nearby. “Death by overeating?”

“We tried force feeding him. It was like that episode of The Simpsons when Homer goes to hell.”

“Oh yes, I remember that now.” The producer groaned. “That one was more expensive than we anticipated; let’s not do that again.” Throwing her hands up in disgust, she finally approached my cell. “Well?”

I stared dumbly at her for a moment before I realized she was addressing me directly. “Well what?”

“Do YOU have any ideas?” She rolled her eyes at me.

“In how to kill me?” I laughed at her. It couldn’t be helped. “Lady, I’ve been trying to figure that out myself for at least a couple hundred years. As best as I can tell, the answer is you can’t.”

“Well that just fucking sucks,” she yelled, turning angrily to her assistant. “Do you hear that? We CAN’T kill this guy. What the hell are we supposed to do with him? Our audience has been watching him survive attempt after attempt for weeks now. At this rate, the edging is so bad I’m afraid they’re going to revolt and demand I take his place just so they can get some release.”

“Uh, w-well…” her assistant began as they pulled out a sheet of paper from their clipboard and handed it over. “It would seem our ratings are actually up.”

“What? Give me that.” She snatched the offered paper and looked over the data. “Huh, who would’ve thought.” Turning back to me, she held the sheet up for me to see. “Seems like the audience is really into seeing you survive these attacks. You’re gaining a little bit of a cult following even. Listen, how would you like to stay here with us and just keep doing this for a little bit?”

I’d heard this before. I had actually been a gladiator, and that didn’t end well once the people got tired of me winning. “And when they tire of me? What then?”

She handed the sheet back to the assistant and shrugged at me. “This is TV. We’ll fake your death. It’s pretty clear we can’t kill you, and I’m willing to bet if we locked you up somewhere you’d eventually get out.”

“I’ve been known to outlast a prison or two, yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “If you live long enough, the walls will eventually literally crumble around you. You just have to be patient.”

“Okay, so you stay with us as our hero, we all work together on scenarios, we set you up some place cush between shows, pay you a couple of hundred thousand an episode, and, when it’s time to fake your death, we send you wherever you want.”

“After I sign all the NDAs and contracts you have in mind?” I smirked. This could be fun. It’d certainly be different from my past few hundred years.

“I knew you were a smart one,” she said with a smirk of her own. “Deal?”

“Maybe. Bring me the documents and proposals to look over, and I’ll let you know.” Leaning back in my chair, I glanced around my cell as if taking it in for the first time. “If I don’t like what I see, I’ll just… sit here.”

“That’s the first time that threat has ever been effective,” she said with a light chuckle. After she directed her assistant to get an immediate meeting with legal, she ran a critical eye over me for what felt like the millionth time. “You’re taking this all in stride well. It doesn’t bother you what we’re doing here?”

“I’ve lived a very long time. I’ve seen humanity do some really fucked up things to itself in that time. This? This is nothing compared to the horrors I’ve witnessed, and this at least is contained and not likely to become something popular among the masses. When the masses get their claws into something, that’s when it all really gets bloody, so, no, this doesn’t bother me.”

She nodded at my words, her mind clearly thinking back on something, probably her world history knowledge. “Okay, then, fair enough. So, if we’re going to work together, I think we should at least be on a first name basis. You already know mine.”

“Janet,” I said with sly smile.

She smiled brightly. “Yes, and you are…?”

Standing from my chair, I let out a long, annoyed sigh. “Cain.”

Interesting

Not bad, your pretty good

I like this one

Visiting a place they haven't been to since they were a child. Extremely familiar, but not exactly the same as they remembered.

I have a certain fondness for typo prompts. Can't remember getting a story out of any of them, but the directions my brain can go in when a dropped letter or auto-corrupt strike completely changes the meaning of something... "Squamates" instead of "squadmates" is obviously a team of lizard-men...supper heroes instead of super heroes, there's got to be some kind of story there...and so forth...