Promptly Writing

Prompt #1

Prompt : "Hold on, you died?" "Yeah well, it didn't stick."

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As Derek and his sister started explaining all the events that have happened since we've met, I stared into the fireplace. I wasn't really listening to them. I hardly noticed the story-like manner in which Derek was recounting the time we tried to double-cross my anarchist ex-mentor. I wasn't paying any attention to Todd's over-exaggerated embellishments to the story or to our guests' dumbfounded reactions upon hearing about our misadventures. I was preoccupied by something far worse than my questionable taste in gurus.

How did they find me? The last time I had a run in with the Daughters they were being captured by the opposing faction for crimes against the country. I narrowly escaped imprisonment myself. I was able to avoid heavy consequences by wearing the ugliest piece of jewellery I've had the pleasure of dawning on my wrist: a metal band that somehow blocks my powers and, I suspect, tracks my whereabouts at all times.

While I was able to eventually remove the band and heal properly from my injuries, I managed to get myself in so much more trouble with authorities doing so. As a result, my friends and I were placed in a safe house where we were regularly monitored. Of course, they tell us it's for our safety since some members of the Daughters managed to slither out of prison and might be out for my blood. I called bullshit right away. They simply don't want us 'kids' out there meddling with their affairs again.

Maybe I shouldn't have called bullshit, though. Ramona, a legend within the Daughters, did find me and spilled some blood. It wasn't mine but the intention was there. I shuddered thinking about the fate of my childhood friends had we not been at the house when they decided to attack. 

As I tried to warm myself with the flames, I thought about Ramona's offer. Something wasn't right about the whole situation. Ramona hated me with a passion. When I was doing jobs with the Daughters she was always trying to make me look like a traitor, like I didn't belong. She was right, but it still took a lot of discipline on my part not to strangle her in her sleep.

It is deeply disturbing how quickly I reverted to murderous thoughts about a past colleague. Then again, she did try to kill me just an hour ago.

"Hold on, you died?"

Having realized that the question was directed at me, I forced myself away from the frigid wasteland in my mind and from the fireplace in front of me. "Yeah well, obviously it didn't stick. Which time was this again?"

"That time after the wedding," replied Todd, almost enthusiastically. He was clearly enjoying how increasingly uncomfortable the setting was getting. 

Holy shit, I missed a whole lot of backstory there. 

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Whew, only the first piece and I already know that verb times are gonna be a bitch.