Grab Bag Writing Challenge - January 2021
- confidential - dark - discreet - exclusive - gateway - intrigue - invisible - lonely - mystic - private - puzzle - restrict - scuttlebutt - solution - untold -
by February Fortescue
Marlowe knew if she only were patient, she'd have the solution to the puzzle that had intrigued her for weeks. She was hoping to overhear some passing scuttlebutt, but those who would have the exclusive had been unusually quiet and discreet. And even though she had given her word to keep the information private and confidential, no one would share it with her. They kept saying it was too soon and that things could change. Marlowe couldn't understand why they were being so hurtful – after all, the outcome would have a direct effect on her life, probably for as long as the next 15 years! That's really significant! And yet the family continued to restrict access to what she needed to know in order to make her decision.
It's not like she hadn't asked several times, but they insisted on keeping her in the dark. It was almost as if she were invisible and being ignored, and she was starting to feel very lonely. Marlowe had tried really hard to distract herself. She cleaned her house from top to bottom, until it was spotless. She started dancing again, even working on advanced yoga. She baked several batches of brownies for her best friend's daughter's first-grade class, leaving out the nuts because she'd heard some children have nut allergies. She even considered learning to knit. She'd always wanted to learn how to make lovely Christmas gifts for her family, and doesn't everyone appreciate a nice, warm scarf?
After untold weeks of waiting, Marlowe decided to find her own gateway to the truth. “This can't be that hard to find out,” she reasoned, “and I deserve to know! And I want to see the situation with my own eyes, and go ahead and make my choice. I'm done acting as if this is some obscure mystical guessing game!”
Marlowe drove to her friend's house. “I'm done waiting!” she announced in a loud voice when her friend opened the door.
“I understand completely! Follow me.” Marlowe followed her into the corner of a guest bedroom, where a box with a blanket was set up and a mother cat was lying there with four kittens. “I said you could have the first pick. Do you want the solid white kitten, the white one with black spots, the yellow one, or the gray striped kitten?”
Marlowe knew if she only were patient, she'd have the solution to the puzzle that had intrigued her for weeks. She was hoping to overhear some passing scuttlebutt, but those who would have the exclusive had been unusually quiet and discreet. And even though she had given her word to keep the information private and confidential, no one would share it with her. They kept saying it was too soon and that things could change. Marlowe couldn't understand why they were being so hurtful – after all, the outcome would have a direct effect on her life, probably for as long as the next 15 years! That's really significant! And yet the family continued to restrict access to what she needed to know in order to make her decision.
It's not like she hadn't asked several times, but they insisted on keeping her in the dark. It was almost as if she were invisible and being ignored, and she was starting to feel very lonely. Marlowe had tried really hard to distract herself. She cleaned her house from top to bottom, until it was spotless. She started dancing again, even working on advanced yoga. She baked several batches of brownies for her best friend's daughter's first-grade class, leaving out the nuts because she'd heard some children have nut allergies. She even considered learning to knit. She'd always wanted to learn how to make lovely Christmas gifts for her family, and doesn't everyone appreciate a nice, warm scarf?
After untold weeks of waiting, Marlowe decided to find her own gateway to the truth. “This can't be that hard to find out,” she reasoned, “and I deserve to know! And I want to see the situation with my own eyes, and go ahead and make my choice. I'm done acting as if this is some obscure mystical guessing game!”
Marlowe drove to her friend's house. “I'm done waiting!” she announced in a loud voice when her friend opened the door.
“I understand completely! Follow me.” Marlowe followed her into the corner of a guest bedroom, where a box with a blanket was set up and a mother cat was lying there with four kittens. “I said you could have the first pick. Do you want the solid white kitten, the white one with black spots, the yellow one, or the gray striped kitten?”
by Lucia Dinapoli
The moon paled against the dark winter night sky, stars flickering across the sea of blackness like speckles of dust catching glimmers of light. Earlier that evening, I had been given a confidential letter, sealed and signed from the Ministry of Magic, informing me I was to discreetly deliver it by midnight to Fantail’s Head Pub to a highly important individual...one that they could not give name or face to. It had just turned half eleven when my owl had swooped in through my windows and delivered the intelligence – my shoes had never graced my soles quite so quickly.
The pub was only five minutes walk away, but the nerves and the bitter chilling air had made it seem so much longer. Soon, however, I was facing my destination, the place where I was to hand over previously untold information to a complete stranger.
I made my way through the large bolted wooden gateway, the snow from the previous night crunching beneath my feet as I quickly made my way up the path towards the metal bolted door. I could tell this place was exclusive by the doorman restricting access - most likely surveyed for any passing interest from Muggles. I only had to give him a nod, for he knew of what private business was to be taking place here tonight.
Crackling welcomingly at my cold, shivering feet, the fireplace of the pub warmed my body and calmed my mind. The bar was empty except for a few older wizards sharing a mead and a lonely witch in the corner head deep in a puzzle, spare pieces floating up and around her head. The only person of intrigue was a lone man at the bar, his long beige coat collar turned up and long curly black hair covering his face as though it would turn him invisible; his aura was mystical. Could this be him – the man to whom I was to deliver the letter? Well, it was either him or the others...and I didn't think an Auror would be solving a puzzle in a time quite like this. The only solution I had was to sit near him, give him the signature knock on the wooden bar that I had been instructed to do ever so carefully, and wait for his response. When he replied with the codeword, “Scuttlebutt,” in a hushed whisper, I knew my mission had been successful, albeit short.
I passed him over the letter, and with a curt nod I excused myself from the bar…the mysterious magical business in the stranger's hands now.
The moon paled against the dark winter night sky, stars flickering across the sea of blackness like speckles of dust catching glimmers of light. Earlier that evening, I had been given a confidential letter, sealed and signed from the Ministry of Magic, informing me I was to discreetly deliver it by midnight to Fantail’s Head Pub to a highly important individual...one that they could not give name or face to. It had just turned half eleven when my owl had swooped in through my windows and delivered the intelligence – my shoes had never graced my soles quite so quickly.
The pub was only five minutes walk away, but the nerves and the bitter chilling air had made it seem so much longer. Soon, however, I was facing my destination, the place where I was to hand over previously untold information to a complete stranger.
I made my way through the large bolted wooden gateway, the snow from the previous night crunching beneath my feet as I quickly made my way up the path towards the metal bolted door. I could tell this place was exclusive by the doorman restricting access - most likely surveyed for any passing interest from Muggles. I only had to give him a nod, for he knew of what private business was to be taking place here tonight.
Crackling welcomingly at my cold, shivering feet, the fireplace of the pub warmed my body and calmed my mind. The bar was empty except for a few older wizards sharing a mead and a lonely witch in the corner head deep in a puzzle, spare pieces floating up and around her head. The only person of intrigue was a lone man at the bar, his long beige coat collar turned up and long curly black hair covering his face as though it would turn him invisible; his aura was mystical. Could this be him – the man to whom I was to deliver the letter? Well, it was either him or the others...and I didn't think an Auror would be solving a puzzle in a time quite like this. The only solution I had was to sit near him, give him the signature knock on the wooden bar that I had been instructed to do ever so carefully, and wait for his response. When he replied with the codeword, “Scuttlebutt,” in a hushed whisper, I knew my mission had been successful, albeit short.
I passed him over the letter, and with a curt nod I excused myself from the bar…the mysterious magical business in the stranger's hands now.
by Mia Fountain
A teenaged boy walked home from school through the forest on a dark trail that led from the back of school grounds to a small park near his neighbourhood. The child walked with his head down, thinking about the problems he was facing at school. He worried about the multitude of assignments he had been given over the holidays, and he worried about how lonely the upcoming holidays would be since his parents had grounded him and he was restricted to his home and the neighbourhood library. As he was walking, he tripped over a root that was nearly invisible, since it was covered in fallen leaves.
After he picked himself up after his fall, he looked up and saw a glowing, mystical gateway. Intrigued, he decided to check it out. He walked in a circle around the gateway. He saw strange symbols that seemed to be carved into the seemingly wooden gateway. He decided to stick his hand into the gateway, and when he did, it sucked him in. The gateway transported him to a yard, in which sat a wooden cottage. There were a few people milling about; one appeared to be tearing up some plants into a large bowl, another was building a fire in a pit surrounded by rocks, while the remainder were speaking with each other.
Gone were his worries about school and the holidays! Now he was wondering about how to get home. The cottage appeared to be deep in a forest, but he couldn't figure out if it was the same forest he was in before he entered the gateway. He tried to stick his hand into the gateway again to see if it would take him back to the trail, but it appeared to be inert now. The people hadn't yet noticed him, so he tried to blend into the background and discreetly listen to their private conversations, in the hopes that he could figure out if he could trust these strangers or find out how to get back to the trail. They were gathered in front of a cask that one of them called a scuttlebutt.
They were talking about finding a solution to the problem of gathering an exclusive ingredient that only grows in an area that someone they called The Potioneer had claimed as his own. From their conversation, The Potioneer had rejected their attempt to negotiate with him for rights to gather the ingredient themselves, and sent back their negotiator with a demand for an ostentatious untold sum for him to gather the ingredient. Puzzled by their conversation and his surroundings, the boy stepped out and greeted the men and asked if they could help him return home.
Startled by his appearance, the men shouted and aimed wooden sticks at him. The one who appeared to be in charge shouted at the boy, demanding to know who he was, and how much he was being paid by The Potioneer to spy on them and listen to their confidential conversation. After explaining who he was and how he came to be there, he eventually convinced them that he meant them no harm and that he wasn't a spy. The woman who had been tearing up plants came over after hearing all of the commotion and explained that she had been gathering plants and must have forgotten to close the gateway, because she had been in such a rush to get back to the cottage to start preparing before the solstice rituals they were going to take part in.
Mollified, the men reopened the gateway and sent the boy home. Upon arriving back to his forest, the boy woke up and realized it had all been a dream and his head hurt from hitting it on the ground.
A teenaged boy walked home from school through the forest on a dark trail that led from the back of school grounds to a small park near his neighbourhood. The child walked with his head down, thinking about the problems he was facing at school. He worried about the multitude of assignments he had been given over the holidays, and he worried about how lonely the upcoming holidays would be since his parents had grounded him and he was restricted to his home and the neighbourhood library. As he was walking, he tripped over a root that was nearly invisible, since it was covered in fallen leaves.
After he picked himself up after his fall, he looked up and saw a glowing, mystical gateway. Intrigued, he decided to check it out. He walked in a circle around the gateway. He saw strange symbols that seemed to be carved into the seemingly wooden gateway. He decided to stick his hand into the gateway, and when he did, it sucked him in. The gateway transported him to a yard, in which sat a wooden cottage. There were a few people milling about; one appeared to be tearing up some plants into a large bowl, another was building a fire in a pit surrounded by rocks, while the remainder were speaking with each other.
Gone were his worries about school and the holidays! Now he was wondering about how to get home. The cottage appeared to be deep in a forest, but he couldn't figure out if it was the same forest he was in before he entered the gateway. He tried to stick his hand into the gateway again to see if it would take him back to the trail, but it appeared to be inert now. The people hadn't yet noticed him, so he tried to blend into the background and discreetly listen to their private conversations, in the hopes that he could figure out if he could trust these strangers or find out how to get back to the trail. They were gathered in front of a cask that one of them called a scuttlebutt.
They were talking about finding a solution to the problem of gathering an exclusive ingredient that only grows in an area that someone they called The Potioneer had claimed as his own. From their conversation, The Potioneer had rejected their attempt to negotiate with him for rights to gather the ingredient themselves, and sent back their negotiator with a demand for an ostentatious untold sum for him to gather the ingredient. Puzzled by their conversation and his surroundings, the boy stepped out and greeted the men and asked if they could help him return home.
Startled by his appearance, the men shouted and aimed wooden sticks at him. The one who appeared to be in charge shouted at the boy, demanding to know who he was, and how much he was being paid by The Potioneer to spy on them and listen to their confidential conversation. After explaining who he was and how he came to be there, he eventually convinced them that he meant them no harm and that he wasn't a spy. The woman who had been tearing up plants came over after hearing all of the commotion and explained that she had been gathering plants and must have forgotten to close the gateway, because she had been in such a rush to get back to the cottage to start preparing before the solstice rituals they were going to take part in.
Mollified, the men reopened the gateway and sent the boy home. Upon arriving back to his forest, the boy woke up and realized it had all been a dream and his head hurt from hitting it on the ground.
by Prof. Sky Alton
She reached to re-ink her quill and caught sight of the little brass clock on the wall. She hadn’t realized how late it was. With a groan, she returned to the report and hastily scribbled a conclusion. It would have to do. With finality, she used her wand to dry the ink, then affixed the official Department Seal. This was an oval of wax such a dark purple it was almost black and marked private and confidential. She’d always thought it was overkill: most laymen wouldn’t be able to understand their reports anyway.
She shrugged on her cloak, picked up the report, and headed for the door. It really was late. Most of the blue candles that usually lit the black tiled corridor had been extinguished, leaving only a few at regular intervals to light her way. She hurried along to her boss’s office, her footsteps echoing in the empty space. She’d never realized just how dark and lonely the department was when it wasn’t full of people…
She left her report on his desk and hurried back out. She couldn’t help but worry about the next day when he would read it. Her solution to the new and intriguing puzzle about Saturn was pretty radical, even she had to admit.
“Tomorrow's problem,” she muttered to herself, striding towards the circular entryway.
She stepped into it and then cursed as the door slammed behind her and the room began to whirl around her. She always forgot about this bit of after-hours trickery. The room stopped spinning and she tiredly began to look for the discreet sign, known only to Unspeakables, that identified which of the doors was the gateway back to the land where things made more sense. She had gotten about halfway when a noise made her jump. One of the doors had swung open.
“Hello?” she said cautiously, not hearing anyone behind it.
Feeling the hairs rise on the back of her neck, she crossed over to it. Nothing. The time room lay beyond, ticking and glimmering. No one… unless. Feeling a little silly, she swiped her arm out, hoping to catch any invisible person by touch. But who would be here and invisible?
“Are you playing games with me?” she asked, casting a glower over her shoulder at the circular room.
Maybe the door had been triggered by mistake. Or maybe it was part of the spell she wasn’t familiar with. She was about to shut the door when she heard an odd, whooshing noise from deeper in the Time Room. This wasn’t her domain; she was exclusively assigned to the Planetary Team, researching the mystic influence of celestial bodies on magical currents. All the same, she knew that noise didn’t belong here… It came again. It sounded a little like wings.
Gripping the handle of her wand, she stalked inside. She knew what had happened. It was Anderson’s blasted Fwooper again! Why he was allowed to keep that thing in his office, she had no idea. It just made an almighty mess and tried to bite anyone who came in. Now and again, it would manage to escape and cause havoc.
Anderson thought it was funny. He’d even given it a funny name… Scuttlebutt? He seemed to think it was the height of wit to name a creature that had to have a silencing charm put on it after a word for gossip. She just thought it was cruel: keep a bird shut down here away from the fresh air and then mock it. It wouldn’t stop her turning it into Fwooper fricassee if she found it loose in here though. This room was full of delicate experiments; a loose creature could cause untold damage.
“Here birdy birdy birdy,” she said, hoping that everyone else really had gone home. “If you come back to your perch, I’ll give you all the seed you want…”
Silence. The sound of wings did not come again.
“Come here, you overgrown feather duster,” she hissed.
There was a crash from the far end of the room. She raced over there to find a glass case on its side. Anderson had had it this time. She looked around for the bird. Nothing… though a door was open. If it got into the Hall of Prophesy… She sprinted into the room, chest tight and restricted with panic at the thought of all those delicate and irreplaceable records. Nothing. Not a sound. Maybe if she startled it. She used her wand to make a noise like a gunshot… No terrified flapping.
Frowning, she turned back the way she’d come. Maybe it had gone into another room. She froze. The light from the Time Room had been blotted out. In the doorway hovered a huge, shadowy, formless something. Something which was most certainly not an escaped Fwooper. She raised her wand, trying to think through her blind terror. She was an Unspeakable, she grappled with mysteries every day. This was just another one to solve. Even as she was beginning to form a spell, the thing swept towards her with an ominous whoosh…
She reached to re-ink her quill and caught sight of the little brass clock on the wall. She hadn’t realized how late it was. With a groan, she returned to the report and hastily scribbled a conclusion. It would have to do. With finality, she used her wand to dry the ink, then affixed the official Department Seal. This was an oval of wax such a dark purple it was almost black and marked private and confidential. She’d always thought it was overkill: most laymen wouldn’t be able to understand their reports anyway.
She shrugged on her cloak, picked up the report, and headed for the door. It really was late. Most of the blue candles that usually lit the black tiled corridor had been extinguished, leaving only a few at regular intervals to light her way. She hurried along to her boss’s office, her footsteps echoing in the empty space. She’d never realized just how dark and lonely the department was when it wasn’t full of people…
She left her report on his desk and hurried back out. She couldn’t help but worry about the next day when he would read it. Her solution to the new and intriguing puzzle about Saturn was pretty radical, even she had to admit.
“Tomorrow's problem,” she muttered to herself, striding towards the circular entryway.
She stepped into it and then cursed as the door slammed behind her and the room began to whirl around her. She always forgot about this bit of after-hours trickery. The room stopped spinning and she tiredly began to look for the discreet sign, known only to Unspeakables, that identified which of the doors was the gateway back to the land where things made more sense. She had gotten about halfway when a noise made her jump. One of the doors had swung open.
“Hello?” she said cautiously, not hearing anyone behind it.
Feeling the hairs rise on the back of her neck, she crossed over to it. Nothing. The time room lay beyond, ticking and glimmering. No one… unless. Feeling a little silly, she swiped her arm out, hoping to catch any invisible person by touch. But who would be here and invisible?
“Are you playing games with me?” she asked, casting a glower over her shoulder at the circular room.
Maybe the door had been triggered by mistake. Or maybe it was part of the spell she wasn’t familiar with. She was about to shut the door when she heard an odd, whooshing noise from deeper in the Time Room. This wasn’t her domain; she was exclusively assigned to the Planetary Team, researching the mystic influence of celestial bodies on magical currents. All the same, she knew that noise didn’t belong here… It came again. It sounded a little like wings.
Gripping the handle of her wand, she stalked inside. She knew what had happened. It was Anderson’s blasted Fwooper again! Why he was allowed to keep that thing in his office, she had no idea. It just made an almighty mess and tried to bite anyone who came in. Now and again, it would manage to escape and cause havoc.
Anderson thought it was funny. He’d even given it a funny name… Scuttlebutt? He seemed to think it was the height of wit to name a creature that had to have a silencing charm put on it after a word for gossip. She just thought it was cruel: keep a bird shut down here away from the fresh air and then mock it. It wouldn’t stop her turning it into Fwooper fricassee if she found it loose in here though. This room was full of delicate experiments; a loose creature could cause untold damage.
“Here birdy birdy birdy,” she said, hoping that everyone else really had gone home. “If you come back to your perch, I’ll give you all the seed you want…”
Silence. The sound of wings did not come again.
“Come here, you overgrown feather duster,” she hissed.
There was a crash from the far end of the room. She raced over there to find a glass case on its side. Anderson had had it this time. She looked around for the bird. Nothing… though a door was open. If it got into the Hall of Prophesy… She sprinted into the room, chest tight and restricted with panic at the thought of all those delicate and irreplaceable records. Nothing. Not a sound. Maybe if she startled it. She used her wand to make a noise like a gunshot… No terrified flapping.
Frowning, she turned back the way she’d come. Maybe it had gone into another room. She froze. The light from the Time Room had been blotted out. In the doorway hovered a huge, shadowy, formless something. Something which was most certainly not an escaped Fwooper. She raised her wand, trying to think through her blind terror. She was an Unspeakable, she grappled with mysteries every day. This was just another one to solve. Even as she was beginning to form a spell, the thing swept towards her with an ominous whoosh…
The Carousal by Prof. Tarma Amelia Black
"It's got to be a surprise!" she said, as they trod towards the darkened gateway. "She will know what we're doing if we don't be all quiet and, yes, discreet, about it."
Josh snorted. "Yes, yes, we know all about keeping our plans private and secret. But the thing is, we've still got to puzzle out how to create our carousel, then create it with whatever materials we have, and restrict access to the site so that the solution of the puzzle of what we're doing doesn't get spread around to all and sundry."
They walked through the gateway and looked around. The far end of the enclosure seemed almost invisible in the dusky gloom.
"You think we can make it, get it done within two months?" Lilac said, seeming subdued by the enormity of the task they'd taken upon themselves.
"Yep, we can. We know enough people who can help, who will stay close-mouthed and not spread scuttlebutt about what we're making. Who knows, once we go public with it, it might become one of those 'exclusive' things of parties and celebrations that everyone can enjoy?"
Two months later
The tickets were sent out and confidential messages were murmured between people. The intrigue of this mysterious happening, whatever it was, sufficed to keep interest up and more and more people whispered suspicions of 'what it is.' But no one had it right, not really. The theme of the carousel was 'The Lonely Mountain,' and while the theme name was known, nowhere was the just 'what' it signified mentioned. Guesses were made, of course, untold numbers of them, but oddly no one chanced upon the truth of it.
Finally, the day of unveiling arrived. The guest of honor, all dressed up in mystical robes (provided by Josh and Lilac) of midnight purple trimmed with gold, paused at the gateway and smiled at the two.
"So, what's in here? I've heard so many rumors and speculations."
They looked at her, fingers crossed that she would like what they had made, and said nothing, just indicating that she open the gate and enter the glade that they had prepared so carefully.
She walked in… and saw a treasure. There, lit by magical and mundane lighting, was a carousel of wonderment. Dragons, elves, people, unicorns, centaurs, and wolves populated it, and it spun quietly, in a stately round, as Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold played from the center music box.
"Thank you, my children," the witch said to Josh and Lilac, patting their withers. "It's lovely!"
Josh and Lilac grinned at each other. She liked it!
"It's got to be a surprise!" she said, as they trod towards the darkened gateway. "She will know what we're doing if we don't be all quiet and, yes, discreet, about it."
Josh snorted. "Yes, yes, we know all about keeping our plans private and secret. But the thing is, we've still got to puzzle out how to create our carousel, then create it with whatever materials we have, and restrict access to the site so that the solution of the puzzle of what we're doing doesn't get spread around to all and sundry."
They walked through the gateway and looked around. The far end of the enclosure seemed almost invisible in the dusky gloom.
"You think we can make it, get it done within two months?" Lilac said, seeming subdued by the enormity of the task they'd taken upon themselves.
"Yep, we can. We know enough people who can help, who will stay close-mouthed and not spread scuttlebutt about what we're making. Who knows, once we go public with it, it might become one of those 'exclusive' things of parties and celebrations that everyone can enjoy?"
Two months later
The tickets were sent out and confidential messages were murmured between people. The intrigue of this mysterious happening, whatever it was, sufficed to keep interest up and more and more people whispered suspicions of 'what it is.' But no one had it right, not really. The theme of the carousel was 'The Lonely Mountain,' and while the theme name was known, nowhere was the just 'what' it signified mentioned. Guesses were made, of course, untold numbers of them, but oddly no one chanced upon the truth of it.
Finally, the day of unveiling arrived. The guest of honor, all dressed up in mystical robes (provided by Josh and Lilac) of midnight purple trimmed with gold, paused at the gateway and smiled at the two.
"So, what's in here? I've heard so many rumors and speculations."
They looked at her, fingers crossed that she would like what they had made, and said nothing, just indicating that she open the gate and enter the glade that they had prepared so carefully.
She walked in… and saw a treasure. There, lit by magical and mundane lighting, was a carousel of wonderment. Dragons, elves, people, unicorns, centaurs, and wolves populated it, and it spun quietly, in a stately round, as Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold played from the center music box.
"Thank you, my children," the witch said to Josh and Lilac, patting their withers. "It's lovely!"
Josh and Lilac grinned at each other. She liked it!