//------------------------------// // The Prologue of Words // Story: The War of Words // by Skeeter The Lurker //------------------------------// The Written War By Skeeter The Lurker Prologue Of Words “We’re not going to have a normal class today.” The various students in the class perked their ears at this. What could the professor mean? “I’ve always held that you cannot force art or inspiration or creativity.” He was pacing back and forth in the front of the class, making gestures with his hands to emphasize his point. “It’s not something you can simply, well, turn off or on, like a light…” A few knowing glances amongst the class were had. One student in particular cracked a small smile at that. He could claim to know that quite well, spending many a class doodling in his notebook… Indeed, he spent more time doodling than taking notes. Yet, somehow, continued to make excellent grades (B+, A- range, no less). The professor noticed the glances. “Hah… Yes, yes. I know a few of you can. But THAT’S not the point. What I mean is that art and anything creative would be best if allowed to just happen.” He stopped pacing, taking instead a position at the drawing studio at the front of the class. “Which is why I’m making today’s class a free class. Only rule is you must draw something. I don’t care what.” THAT got everyone’s attention. A free class? HERE? NOW? The student had been in Full Sail University now for almost 2 years. In that time, he’d not once gotten such a class. Ever. And from the looks from the other classmates, neither had they. The professor looked on in mild amusement before taking his seat at the desk. “I’m well aware that this kind of thing is unheard of, but I’m quite serious. Free class, draw whatever.” The student shrugged, ‘May as well get started’, he though, and began to retrieve his supplies from his bag. The student next to him spoke up amidst the murmuring: “But, sir, this is a 12 hour class!” That made the chatter stop and agree with him. The professor, in his years of teaching, simply smiled. “Oh yes. I know. Don’t worry; we’ll have our breaks. Heck, you can even eat at your desk… Just clean it up, yeah?” “But…” “Listen, I know all too well how chaotic this school can be. I know the stress you’re under at time. Believe it or not, I, too, was student like you. Not only that, I’m aware of what can be expected of you in a job. And let me tell you… It’s VERY nice to take a day and just relax. So just take your time and draw or write to your hearts content today. Nothing will be expected of you. No test. No homework. Nothing.” “Can we listen to music…?” “Yes. Just put on some headsets.” “Anything at all…?” “As I just said, yes, anything you want.” For the most part, the student sighed and went about setting up his studio space in the classroom. He pulled out his laptop, his drawing pencils, and a few sheets of paper, all with in a minute or two. He placed a pencil to he paper… And realized he had no idea what to draw and write about. Trying to think of something he shifted around in his chair, promptly causing a sharp point to hit his rear. Lifting up, he reached in his back pocket and pulled out the culprit behind the pain: a small figurine. ‘Huh… Forgot I had this.’ It was a small figure, no better than the size of his thumb. It was shaped like a horse, reared up on its hind legs. Cerulean blue in color, one could say it looked more like a pony than a full-blown horse, and indeed, based off the show, it was a pony. This particular one had wings, making it a Pegasus, but more than that was its mane and tail color. It was colored in the colors of the rainbow. Also of note was a small mark on it flank: A single cloud with a single rainbow lighting bolt coming from it. It was a figure of none other than Rainbow Dash, from the show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. It was a gift, no less, from a good friend of his. The student stared at the figure for a full minute, finally smiling and setting it down on the side of his desk. ‘Why not?’ He thought, ‘He DID say anything…’ Placing his pencil on the paper he began to draw… He finally knew what he wanted to write about….