Okay, so I was doing a bit of quick writing to oil my rusty gears back into business by doing several random scenes in my head. Then I realised, what if [b]other roleplayers were to write the same scene?[/b] How would [i]they[/i] pack the punch? This isn't a competitive thread, but rather, one to help us all learn and grow from others' strengths. [b]Before sending in a new scene, make sure to specify the most pivotal points in the scene itself. Any unspecified details will be choice of the author to modify. If it's a rewrite, tag/mention the last person who did that scene.[/b] [b]Keep all criticisms objective and constructive.[/b] Don't be a jackass by being crude and personal. I'll post one first. Feel free to rewrite, or add a different scenario. (All genre welcome!!) [hr] [b]Point: It's raining, a guy gets home, and he's in for an unpleasant surprise.[/b] [hider=My Write] The grey blanket above growled at the population of Mistyville before unleashing a harsh torrent of water down. The sound of the door unlocking and opening was drowned out by the storm outside as a raven-haired young man, his brown parka now dark and heavy from running across the street, walked into his apartment. "Whaaat?" Jonas could hear before he saw the blonde midget from within the open kitchen. "I was just about to head out to get some butter! St- oh, you're home," Serena perked up somewhat and untied her apron, left cheek and chin kissed by flour. He smiled in his usual placcid manner and asked, "Are you making butter chicken?" "No," the short blonde hung the cloth on the hook right next to the kitchen entrance and redid her ponytail. Part of her baby hairs clung to her sweaty forehead. "I needed more butter to bake some cake for Nelson. More butter, smoother cake!" "Dad's coming over for dinner? Why." She snickered at his sullen expression and continued her way towards the bathroom, "Do you need reason to have dinner with family?" He longingly stared at her round rump. "Stop staring at my booty." "It's a good booty. And forget the butter. Just let him choke on cake." She exhaled in exasperation and, protest on the tip of her tongue, was interrupted by the door bell cutting the atmosphere with its sanguine music notes. [/hider]