losthunter | Entries tagged with writing prompts

Hunter had spent several nights at the same bar, the place where he had lost his powers during an innocent night out with his artist friends. It gave him a lot of time to sit and think to himself... about the recent changes to his appearance and how it really affected his life.

He really had no other activities to keep him busy right now. Hunter had really put his heart and soul into the Foundation and the Seven Sisters Art Gallery, and it bothered him to not have day-to-day interactions with his staff. But how would he explain that his appearance had changed... so suddenly?

Slowly, Hunter sipped at his beer, looking around the bar another time. It was a quiet night, which gave him some hope that he would have a better chance of finding clues that might lead to the identity of the young girl, who had reminded him so much of Kendra. He had been here on busier nights, when it had been harder to collect his thoughts (or to politely decline the offers of being joined).

A soft chuckle escaped Hunter's throat at that last thought. With his tattooed-look, not many people were bold enough to approach him. Or flirt with him. But right now, it was sort of flattering to have so many offers of a free drink, or company for the night. Of course, he had turned down the more daring offers that would have led to something more intimate.

And even with the 'permission' from the Starfleet Captain to seek affection elsewhere while Jim was serving his five-year mission, Hunter just couldn't go down that route. His heart belonged to Jim.

It had been so reassuring that Jim had stopped by the other night to check on Hunter's welfare. It really spoke to how that Hunter could count on the other man. And he had not missed the desire in Jim's eyes in regards to Hunter's new appearance. No matter what happened -- he could count on Jim being there.

Suddenly, Hunter felt something on the edge of his nerves that broke his deep thoughts. Looking up, he saw the young woman who had reminded him so much of Kendra. And just seeing her again -- Hunter could sense his magic radiating off her. She looked so much more confident and sure of herself. But at the same time, that even she didn't know what had changed.

Hunter finished his beer, before heading over to where she sat. And he was reminded of Kendra... when the girl looked up at him with the same deep green eyes that pierced his soul.

"I know you..." She whispered. She stood, her eyes wide like a frightened deer.

"Wait..." Hunter took a step back, he could sense the magic in the air, creating a protective force around her. It felt like an invisible fire on his skin.

"No. It is not time..." She moved from her table, preparing to leave the bar. Hunter reached out to try to reason with her, but she whirled and looked at him with those sharp green eyes, and he felt like his whole being was on fire. He slumped down into a chair, watching helplessly as she ran off, not even getting her name.

A flicker of pain ran up his arm, and looking down he could see the thorns of the rose bush return briefly, before it faded. Leaving his arm bare again. He felt like he couldn't breathe... so he struggled to get to a private area of the bar, where he could PINpoint home.

Hunter could feel the fire of his magic dance back to life one moment, and then return to being gone. And it was pure torture. The pain ebbed and faded, leaving him so exhausted that he could barely make it to the couch. Fumbling with his PINpoint, he sent a quick message to the one person that knew the workings of magic better than anyone. And as he slumped to the couch, it was only seconds later that he could feel the reassuring touch of Hermione Jean Granger.

It was another busy day for Hunter. There were a few things on his schedule that required his attention. He started his morning by heading out to the Foundation's main office. The Foundation was getting more and more busy, especially after the New Yorker had written a very complementary story on the purpose of the Foundation. The article had featured the many different courses that were offered to those in need, and how the goal of the Foundation was to provide the tools necessary to change their life. The article had increased donations to the Foundation. It had also increased interest.

Several other cities close by also expressed interest in starting their own learning facilities too. Which meant that the Foundation needed to gain more volunteers on the board. Hunter was glad that he had many skilled and experienced people on his board already. The best part of the success of the Foundation was hearing the stories of those who had changed their lives, because they had used the programs or services that were made available to them. The Foundation was thriving, and Hunter just needed to check in and sign some legal documents every now and then.

It was nice to be the unseen man behind the scenes. That he could come and go, and know that the board and their volunteers were doing the work that made the Foundation a success. It only took a few hours during the morning for Hunter to get through the paperwork that he needed to complete.

For lunch, Hunter did have a quick birthday greeting with Lindy over Facetime. It was good to catch up with her. And to learn about the new adventures she was having as a married woman.

His appointment after lunch was with his dad's lawyer. It had been a surprise to learn that Robert had recently changed his Will, so that the majority of the money in the Kingson estate had been donated to the Foundation. And that Hunter himself was given the majority stock of all the Kingson Enterprises companies, including all of the media companies. So that meant more paperwork that require Hunter's signature.

After completing his appointments, Hunter picked up some take out on his way home, splurging a little to buy himself a birthday cake. The 'work' part of his day was done, and he wanted to get to his art studio. The past few days he had been working on a going-away project for a certain Starfleet captain.

Hunter put his takeout into the fridge to head to his art studio. He took a small piece of paper, which had a poem written on it, and set in inside of a small circular ring. Then he took several rose buds, fresh from the garden, harvesting the blooms juices into the same ring. He added some blue metallic paint. And then placed the circular ring into a firing oven to form a base.

While the base was being fire, Hunter worked with a heavier titanium steel to create a hand-carved exterior of a ring. It took timing to ensure that the base was placed inside the exterior at the right time, before placing a metal bottom to enclose the entire thing. He placed a long light blue sapphire in the center of the ring, before placing the entire creation into the firing oven again.

He ate his supper while waiting for the ring to complete. Taking it out of the oven, Hunter slid his hand over the unique creation. Then he used an engraving tool to carefully place Jim's initials at the bottom of the inside.

Hunter stared at the ring for a moment. He chuckled to himself, knowing that in his hands he held a promise ring. A promise to be there for Jim, as the Starfleet captain embraced the opportunity in front of him to explore space. A promise to be a friend, a lover, a confidante. A promise to explore new adventures together as a couple. And it was a promise for a whole lot more.

After placing the ring safely away in a small black box, Hunter grabbed a piece of birthday cake and decided to finish the day by relaxing in his hot tub. All in all... it was a good day.

Tonight was an important night for Hunter and the Seven Sisters art studio. A new artist was exhibiting their artwork, and there was finally media attention about the studio itself. The art gala had a number of art critics attending. And many people were learning about the Foundation, and the work that the organization did in the community.

Hunter was preparing some notes, to speak to a small scrum with the media. He had not done something like this for a few year. Not since he was dealing with the media and his father's business.

He felt very nervous. Without warning, his phone buzzed an alert. Hunter spared a quick glance at his phone, noticed that the caller ID was from the hospital, and took a few moments to answer it.

"Mr. Kingson?" The almost-too-pleasant voice spoke to him on the other end. Already Hunter had a dreaded feeling in the pit of his stomach. Almost no one addressed him by his former last name.

"Speaking..." He toned his voice to neutral.

"I am sorry to bother you. But you are listed on the emergency call list for your father, Robert Kingson." Hunter felt weak to his stomach. "He is in emergency room."

"What happened?" He whispered. The still-too-bright answer explaining that his father had a heart attack was barely heard by Hunter. The room around him felt claustrophobic. He tuned back in when the nurse asked him if he could come down to the hospital, and speak to the doctor.

"I... yah... I will be there." Hunter hung up the phone. Downstairs, the party of the art gala seemed to taunt him. He couldn't face the media scrum now. He couldn't face anyone right now.

Hunter told one of his Foundation board members to take over the art gala for him, as his Uber cab pulled up to take him to the hospital. In the back seat of the cab, He closed his eyes, making a desperate wish that everything would be okay. A feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that it would not be.

He pulled out his PINpoint and send a message to Jim. I am on my way to the hospital. My dad had a heart attack,