BOP 4: Love is in the Air

In an lush green meadow of a color reminiscent of a the fleeting Spring season, was a house, small and quaint. From a red chimney rose a plume of smoke that carried with it an aroma of slow roasting meat.

Before it was a sinuous path of large stepping stones that was framed on either side by river rock and bordered by fruit trees and herbs. It trailed up up to a shaded patio where a large chair swing stood, swaying softly with the passing zephyr.

As he turned he saw her. 

A petite figure yet with a healthy earthy appearance. Her brilliant brown hair glimmered with the rays as she twirled, the drawstrings of her mauve jacket swinging as she did. On the front was a gold threaded dandelion

She smiled and the sunlight too, seemed to echo with her laughter.

BOP 3: Despair

Silvanus sat rigidly beside the gurney, brow furrowed and shoulders tense. A hand clasping his shoulderbag, the other on his arm as his fingers found their way to the sleeve.

doot doot doot do-

The monotonous drone of the EKG monitor filled the sterile room.

His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his arm, The floor was white. The sheets were white. The walls were white. Even the curtains were white. Everything was too white.

BOP 2: On the Offensive

He clutched the pistol in perspiring hands, nervously fingering the safety lock.

Silvanus had never seen, let alone hold, a real gun, and its weight felt far greater than the mere 5 lb. the engraved label had claimed it to be. 

In his ears he heard the thump of his pulse and the painful clench in his chest. Breathlessly he slid to the ground, knees wobbly and hands shaking with adrenaline as he strained to hear something -anything- in the deathly silence. 

As if the nighttime visibility wasn't bad enough, a light fog had settled over the city, blanketing the landscape in an mist. Despite the lack of wind, the fog swirled and twisted, ghosting around the streetlamps, wisps curling under their light.

Still he heard nothing, and he shivered lightly. The night was neither hot, nor chilly, yet he felt cold inside as hot prickles ttickled his skin. 

Then, out of nowhere a gunshot rang out, near deafening as it broke the stillness of the night. 

A gasp escaped him and he shrank back, pushing deeper into the corner where he had jammed himself into.

A sob threatened to bubble out, but he forced it down. Igneus and Forswua were out there. Forswua had been the first to notice the footsteps, and their continued presence trailing them all the way from the party. 

With a knocking of shoulders, the stoic twin had nonchalantly grunted a warning to Iggy and the two together had casually, but with all due haste, donned on their respectful Blitz Gear while shoving a G-lock pistol into Sil's hands. 

The recent reports of prowlers and student attacks, likely having some root in the recent riots and political upsetting, had resulted in the allowance for students to carry their Strife Allocaters off school grounds.  

As the footsteps trailed behind the trio even as they winded past several empty streets, not unusual given the late hour, Iggy had leaned down and whispered to Sil, "Lay low, and don't come out no matter what, okay? One of us will come for you."

And just like that, on the next turn he had, in one smooth and fluid push, been nonchalantly shoved into an alleyway as Iggy and Forswua continued on, carrying on a facade of smalltalk as they did. 

He heard more than saw them quicken their pace and likewise did their lurker. They were luring the danger away from him, baiting their pursuer far from the physically compromised redhead.

Like a helpless fawn hid, still as death, while the mother doe risked her own life to draw away the would be predators.

He shut his eyes tightly as the excessive adrenaline fatigued his muscles and made him both light headed and short of breath.

Silvanus tried to even out his breathing even as choked gasps forced their way out, fear driven tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and panic flooding his senses as images of mutilation and blood from the recent media played like a broken film behind the darkened screen of his lids. 

He was hiding like the useless whelp he was.

One of his flatmates could be bleeding out on the pavement and here he was barely able to even hide properly.

BOP 1: Another Day

Breadth of Possibility or "BOP"s  were first introduced to me through my creative writing teacher, Ms. Tarn Wilson, a charismatic someone who nourishes, and inspires, respect from her students.

Here's an example of her work, Faithful Over a Few Things. With even a glance, readers are drawn in by the slice-of-life story, and a deep respect bubbles forth from within, spreading out as it sings to our hearts and minds, her words weaving only the finest of silk.

Thank you to my dear mentor, Ms. Wilson. It was an honor to be a student in your class, and one I will never forget.

It is only with the deepest admiration and respect for her that I turn back to writing the BOPs as she had once taught me, and which I now hope to impart, though I can scarcely hope to deliver it with the same words of inspiration, I hope to pass on and share her teachings if even a little, just as she did with me.

In writing a BOP, the first step is to make yourself comfortable. Find a quiet place where you wont be intruded upon. Once you're settled, take out your choice of paper and writing instrument-

-and start writing.

That's it. 

(Technically, you can do anything you want but since this is about writing we'll keep it to that.)

Write about anything, anyone, anywhat. Even if your mind goes blank -write about that too-. The only rule, if it could be called that, is to keep writing. Don't stop.

And that, my dear reader, is a BOP. 

A breadth, of possibility. Challenge yourself then, to write about everything and nothing. there is no wrong answer.

And with that, I hope you start your own BOP Journal to write and keep track of your BOP sessions. See where you start, and how far you'll go. May your sessions prove to amaze even yourself.

---

Sil let out a deep breath and turned a critical eye towards the potted plant, hands outstretched.

He felt his hands grow warm as his mind reached for the bonsai's aether. It was a slow and gentle flow, much different from that of animals.

While that of animals flowed swift like creek or streams, that of plants were comparable to clouds. Slow moving and largely unaffected by the rush of aether.

Slowly, carefully, the redhead reached out with his own and wrapped it around the plant, fingers curling and extending as he did.

As their life energy swirled together and seeped into one another, Sil started bending the plant, creating the twist in the trunk and drawing down branches to a more typically appearance as seen in Bonsai.

"Oh! You're an animater." Despite the amiable voice, the redhead jumped and the plant sprung back, rubber banding back to their original position as the connection was disrupted.

When had he shut his eyes?

So engrossed in the task, he had failed to hear the other's coming.

One of his flatmates, Forswua, set his bag down, ignoring the flustered greeting he stammered out.

Behind him his twin, Igneus, and the one who had spoken earlier, gave a low whistle, "That's rare even for us Enhanced."

Sil nodded, eyes fixated on the ground. If he remembered right the two brothers were of the Elemental class, though he couldn't remember which.

Igneus glanced at the bonsai and let out a small noise of realization, "Sorry,did we interrupt your practice?"

He quickly shook his head, Igneus was alright. The man was friendly enough.

His twin on the other hand... Well. Time would tell. Forswua was rather stand offish, and it unnerved him.

Even now he had yet to speak, opting to nab a bottled glass of soda.

Faster than he could comprehend, the glass seemed to gain a frosted look to it, condensation gathering on its surface.

The disbelief must've been obvious, for Igneus let out a laugh.

He reached up and caught a bottle Forswua passed and held it out for the redhead to see.

It was room temperature.

"We're Elementals, aspected towards heat and plasma." With that he brushed his hand across the bottle, and like magic, the surface gathered condensation, small wisps visible with the difference between room and glass temperature. Impressive still were the ice crystals that he saw form as the surface frosted over.

"Comes in handy when you run out of space or forget to stock more sodas in the fridge." He said, still grinning.

With a twist of his hand, the top came off and he offered the cool drink to Sil.

The Animator took it, his awe changing to astonishment at the frosty chill of the glass.

Unbeknownst to him, Igneus exchanged a look with his twin.

Forswua scowled as he caught the cheery twinkle in his twin's eye, ignoring the gleeful grin directed at him and the nod of his head towards the redhead.

Silvanus, as their new flatmate had identified himself, seemed alright. Kept to himself, was clean, organized, and most of all, quiet.

Forswua sipped slowly at his drink before going back to observing his roommate.

There was a childish awe and glee on his face as he stared mesmerized at the bottle, and the manner in which he took a tentative sip stirred up a warm feeling within him.

He was proud of his abilities as an Elemental, and seeing the other's admiration helped to rekindle his own interest.

Perhaps the year wouldn't be half bad.