BONUS ROUND 1

[hso_mods]

Bonus Round 1

Genre-Mixing

Hey, shippers! Welcome to your very first bonus round proper--we hope you have lots of fun with it! This time around we're going to be asking you to mix it up a little--each fanwork posted for this round will be a mish-mash of two different genres, blended together in a delightful incestuous slurry to create an UNSTOPPABLE CREATIVE CONCOCTION--er. Or. Something.

Yeah, we're genre-mixing. That's what we're doing this round.

Rules

1. Submit prompts! Prompts should consist of two different genres and one ship. This cannot be your team's ship! These are worth 5 points each, for a maximum of 100 points per team.


2. Look through the prompts and fill whichever you like!


3. You may not fill prompts for your ship, nor may you fill your own team's prompts.


4. Fills should be posted as replies to the prompts which they are for, following the format below. They may be any medium.

Title Format
If you are starting a new thread, please use this format in your title.
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team YOU belong to; please use the characters and quadrant, not whatever portmanteau or nickname you've come up with.
If your team name is not in this format and in the title we cannot guarantee that it will be counted.

If you are filling a prompt, use this format in your title.
FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team YOU belong to; please use the characters and quadrant, not whatever portmanteau or nickname you've come up with.
If your team name is not in this format and in the title we cannot guarantee that it will be counted.

Posts not using this format in the title will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, no matter what they contain. They, like all comments on the comm, are subject to the Wank Policy.

Scoring
For prompt posts: 5 points each (maximum of 100 per team)

For fills (as stated here):
First 5 entries in each post: 30 (per entry)
Entries 6-10 in each post: 20 (per entry)
Entries 11-15 in each post: 10 (per entry)
Entries 16+ in each post: 5 (per entry)

All scored content must be created/assembled new for this round.

If you have any questions, please ask them at the FAQ post here, or email them to us (homestuck.shipping at gmail). Otherwise, we cannot guarantee that we will see them in a timely fashion!

Comments

PROMPT: TEAM AUTO-RESPONDER<3ROXY

[teakei]

Jade<3Karkat
Wuxia & Supernatural/Paranormal!

FILL: TEAM DIRK<3JAKE<3JANE<3ROXY

[fayharley]

Martial Art Applications of the Spooky Kind

"It's a Jiang Shi alright," Jade said, peering down from her perch in the tree. "No, scratch that. Multiple. There's more of them coming through the brush. See it shaking as they move?"

"Ugh, I hate those things," Karkat said, gripping his sickle tighter.

"Let me scout ahead and get a head count," Jade said. "You keep them back from the village at this end."

"Got it," Karkat said. He prepared to leap from the tree onto the first vampire but Jade stopped him.

"Kiss for good luck," she said, pecking him on the cheek before bouncing easily from the tree branch across the path into the next tree. She continued like that, gliding nimbly through the treetops, her sleeves blowing behind her in the cool night air.

Karkat took a steadying breath as he watched the vampires hopping their way down the path towards him. He waited until the leader was directly under him before dropping from above, landing squarely on the first vampire's shoulders and knocking it to the ground. Karkat used the collapsing undead as a crutch to propel himself into a leap, going right for the next vampire's throat with his sickle. It turned into a mess of flying fists and steel, Karkat dodging the vampire's long black claws as they stumbled about, trying to grab him. At first he easily kept ahead of them but they keep coming, eventually pushing him back into the brush until he collided with a tree.

Luckily, Jade reappeared, knocking the crowd to the side with a well armed kick. She crunched one vampire's throat under her foot as she drew her sword and charged at the crowd. Her appearance startled the dumb brutes and gave Karkat the moment he needed to regroup before throwing himself back into the fray.

It felt like they had to fell a whole legion before the sun began to rise. Jade and Kakrat ended up fighting back to back, a bit cliché but undoubtedly effective. Jade turned and caught him as he began to slump in exhaustion.

"We get them?" Karkat asked.

"Yeah, we got them," Jade said. She sheathed her sword and took Karkat's face in her blood hands, pulling him into a kiss.

"We're surrounded by corpses Harley, this is not the time."

"Spoilsport."

PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[couryielle]

workplace romance + roadtrip, equius <> nepeta
god bless

Re: PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[gregariousprotagonist]

I will whip up a little something for you! Consider it done!

PROMPT: Karkat<3Karkat

[doubleohally]

Dirk<3Jane

Western + Detective (i love westerns so much)

FILL: TEAM DAVE<3KARKAT

[deecherrywolf]

A/N: I hope this is okay! ;u;

-

She smoothed out her skirt as she opened the door and stepped inside. The smell of booze was a bit strong, as was sweat, but she wasn't deterred. She was on a mission. She looked at the little note her boss had given her and then looked around the saloon. Eyes were on her from various spots in the room. Being a classy lady like herself, it was hard not to draw attention to yourself. She cleared her throat and walked over to the place where she was supposed to meet the sheriff of this town.

She pulled out a seat, gazing around the room. She wasn't entirely sure who she was looking for, but she was sure they would recognize her when they see her. In the mean time, she pulled out a folder from her case, opening it to brief herself on the case file. Her brow furrowed as she studied it, tapping her foot against the floor as she awaited the sherriff.

“What's a pretty lady like you doin' in a place like this?”

She blinked, closing her folder to look up at the man before her. His grin was a little sloppy and his eyes glazed. She could smell the booze roll off of him and that was enough to make her nose wrinkle in distaste. Instead of ignoring him, she politely nodded her head. “I'm waiting for someone.”

“Well, guess what? Y'r waitin' is over with. 'M sorry I made you wait so long, apple dumplin', but I'm here now. How 'bout I buy you a drink?”

“That is quite alright. I've already refreshed myself before I got here.”

“Aw, now don't be like that darlin', surely somethin' sweet like a shirley temple could quinch y'r thirst. At least... the liquid kind.”

She could feel bile threaten to rise in her throat at the mere insinuation. A 'cling' sound made her blink – the sight of a sword tip pressed against the man's throat made her eyes widen. The man holding the sword wore a respectable suit, his hat low on his head and his weirdly pointed shades hiding his eyes. The drunkard gurgled in shock while the swordsman snorted.

“I think the fair lady here, wants you to get lost.”

He sheathed his sword, giving the drunk a small push. Jane watched curiously as the man sat down in front of her. She shifted before raising a brow at him.

“That was rather reckless of you, even if you have a sword handy.”

The shaded man didn't budge, his face looking forward. His shoulders finally moved, but barely. “They know better than to mess with me.”

His accent, while wasn't thick as the drunk's, made her shiver. She licked her lips, watching him for a moment before deciding to speak up. “I hope you don't find me rude, but I am waiting for someone and I'd hate for them to think I'm not -”

“Sheriff Jake English, correct?”

She stiffened, before nodding slightly. The man tipped his glasses – orange eyes glinting at her. “Deputy Dirk Strider, at your service – Detective Jane Crocker.”

Her eyes lightened up immediately, a small smile forming on her lips. Those shades were quickly pushed back over his eyes and he tsked.

“Eyes like that could steal a man's heart.”

She blinked, shocked at the statement before she laughed. “Statements like that are best saved for the jailers, don't you think?”

She shuddered at the flirtatious sound in her voice – even Dirk himself noticed, his lips twitching. He got up, offering her a hand. “C'mon. The sheriff won't make it today, so we'll head over to the station and look through our paperwork.”

She took his hand, the leather of his fingerless gloves was warm, but the skin of his fingers even hotter. She felt a sizzle – a jolt of electricity, as his hand gripped hers firmly, helping her up. She was on her feet, standing close to him. His masculine scent invaded her senses all but a fleeting moment before they broke apart.

He released her hand – holding it a little longer than necessary. His Adam's apple bobbed and he nodded his head to the right.

“Let's get you out of here.”

She nodded mutely, trying to ignore the sizzle she felt as they made their way back towards the station. Her heart thumped loudly against her breast as she watched his back.

This was going to be a long job.

PROMPT: TEAM ENGLISH

[couryielle]

musical fiction + school au, john <3< rose (ohoho)

FILL: TEAM JOHN<3VRISKA

[tehstripe]

...OK so this is now the third prompt of yours I've filled but I just really needed to give this pair a shot, OK? OK.

----


You are Rose Lalonde. You are an alto with perfect pitch, and you have the best voice in your high school, according to everybody you know.

He is John Egbert. He is a tenor with a voice given to him by the angels. He was your friend until freshman year, when he dumped a bucket of water over your head in the middle of the matinee for the school musical. You had scored the lead as a freshman, but because of him, everybody laughed at you and you never had a chance at a lead again.

(he says it was a harmless prank and that he only did it because nobody was in the audience anyways, but word got around, and he never thought to apologize, so you never thought to forgive him)

Standing between you now is a scholarship to the top music conservatory in the country, which both of you have the grades and voice for.

You sit opposite from one another in the waiting room before the audition. John’s playing a game on his cell phone; you sit with your hands folded primly on your lap. The model student.

You shut your eyes and concentrate, thinking only of the goal at hand. How you will rip the scholarship right under Egbert’s nose, revel in the sweet taste of victory-

“--Rose, god, are you even listening?”

You snap your eyes open and glare at him. “What?”

“Well I was trying to tell you good luck on your audition, but you ignored me!”

“Ah.” You close your eyes and continue to ignore him.

“Rose! Come on, don’t tell me you’re still upset about the stupid musical.” You open your eyes again and look at him.

“Why, how could I ever be upset about something as minor as that?” you ask in a languid voice. John relaxes at your assurance but of course you can have that so you continue. “After all, it was only my one chance to shine as an actress – it certainly couldn’t be ruined due to a prank in the middle of one of the two performances.”

“Come on-”

“Furthermore, that dress was only one of my favorites, purchased by my very own savings. And water has never been known to ruin such delicate fabric before!”

“Hey, I offered to pay you back for the dress-”

“And deprive you of the money you so clearly need for an orthodontist? I could never accept.”

John makes an effort to pull his top lip over his buck teeth. “Oh yeah? Well I hope you get laryngitis! It’s just about the only thing that could make your stupid voice bearable to hear!”

Your eyes lock.

(neither of you get the scholarship. they didn’t believe that “making out with a rival” was a valid excuse for missing the audition)

PROMPT: TEAM Dirk<3Equius

[cypher]

Equius ♣ Vriska/Eridan, space opera + comedy of manners

PROMPT: TEAM MEENAH<3<ROXY

[salticidae]

Aradia<>Tavros

Hard Fantasy + Comedy

PROMPT: TEAM KANAYA<3VRISKA

[memyselfandi]

Dirk<3Jake, western + sci-fi

FILL: TEAM DAVE<3KANAYA<3ROSE

[palaumaggot]

Your name is Dirk Strider and you have an airhead for a significant other.

Said significant other tends to run out of the airship and into the towns that your captain stops in for refueling or obtaining new jobs.

“Listen English, we have to go back. The ship is going to leave us here if you keep going off without saying anything to anyone.” You say keeping up with the other boy fairly easily. You roll your eyes as he tripped over another root, “Maybe you shouldn’t have left your glasses this time.”

“Oh shut it Strider.” He says picking himself up from the ground. The boy took off his off-green colored vest and ran a dirty hand through his messy hair, “The peek I took at the monitor about this one is worth it.” He had that little spark in his eyes he gets when he is up to something. He continued through the bushes and, against your better judgment, you followed him as he took you further away from the ship.

“Jake, what is so amazing about this town?” You ask as you used the indents in the foliage from the other to help you get through it. You almost bump into him when he stops in front of a wall of leaves.

You were about to say something else when he turns to you with that smirk, that stupid smirk, and says only one word after he pushed his hand through the branches and made a hole big enough for you both to look.

“Gunslingers.”

Now you get it. And you know you can’t stop him from this. So you decide to follow him into the town to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. You keep your comments to yourself as the both of you walk through the dust and into a saloon. You feel all of the looks that you’re attracting and you know that this town most likely doesn’t get many new faces, if any at all.

Jake hops onto one of the bar stools and orders something, you don’t quite catch what he is saying simply because all of your other senses are heightened. Your orange eyes are darting to every little movement from behind your sharply angled glasses.

You can see the heart rates and estimated number of weapons on each person in the room thanks to your upgrades, but this is also making you a bit antsy. You clear your throat lightly and half-turn towards Jake, “We should make this quick.” You say only loud enough for him to hear you.

He just glances at you and gave one shake of his head in a negative fashion. Of course he wouldn’t agree. The little twerp has been waiting for a town like this. Jake smiles at the bartender who brought him his drink and dove straight in, what he didn’t notice was that the man didn’t return it.

“I take it you boys are from out of town.”

You turn fully towards the man that had walked over from one of the tables and give one nod. You think of the retractable blade in your sleeve and feel somewhat better about the situation.

Jake turned fully in his seat and offered the man a smile much like the one he gave the bartender and nodded as well.

The man gave a small smirk, “Well, just so you two know, this town doesn’t take too kindly to strangers with mysterious intentions.”

Jake tilted his head, “How do we have these ‘mysterious intentions’ exactly?”

You start to flex your hand in the way that it would release the blade but stop when you notice the other people in the saloon start to rise from their seats. You’ll need something more than a single blade.

The man crossed his arms over his chest and you analyzed every second of it, “Well, seeing as we don’t get that many strangers around these parts. You two are looking like trouble-makers.”

Jake raised his arms a little bit too quickly and let out a loud laugh. Only you saw the almost visible jerk from most of the people in the room. You also flinched towards your holster out of habit, “My apologies for us appearing that way sir, but we aren’t looking for any kind of mischief!” Jake turned back to the bar and took another sip from his drink, done with the conversation.

You stay where you are so you have all of the people in the saloon in your eyesight. It’s a stare-down, and you know that your lives are not in the safest place right now. You breathe lightly, concentrating more on not moving. You know that you have your spider gun and that Jake has his shock whip and two pistols, but that wouldn’t be enough to take out let alone clear a path back to the ship.

Thankfully the man backed away with a small sneer and left the two of you alone. You swear that if you didn’t follow Jake on this ‘adventure’ then he surely would have gotten himself killed. You feel an uneasiness swell in your stomach at that thought and turn back to your boyfriend. You place a hand on his shoulder, letting him know that you were intensely uncomfortable right now and let it slide off after a moment.

Jake got the hint, paid for his drink and hopped off the stool. You followed behind him, keeping an eye on the cowboys, a steady hand on the butt of your gun.

You don’t relax until the both of you are safely inside of the airship and leaving the outskirts of the town. And even then, it took a little bit of ‘coaxing’ on Jake’s part to help you out inside of your room.

PROMPT: TEAM GAMZEE♥KARKAT

[sempiternalserpent]

Biopunk + Wuxia- Psiioniic<>Sufferer

FILL: TEAM MEENAH<3<ROXY

[jack_of_none]

(I just started reading the first book of the Condor Heroes Trilogy today, so I HAD to write this! Biopunk ended up being sort of a background element more than anything else...um, sorry?)

Virtue Is Not Left To Stand Alone

The Signless sat calmly in the dirt with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees. His eyes, still yellow like a child’s, darted to and fro amongst the gang of highbloods that surrounded him, counting their number. One, two, four, six…ten, all told.

In front of him, blocking his view of their leader, the Psiioniic shifted into a fighting stance. His boots made a soft scratch in the dust, and the Signless could feel the thrum of the Psiioniic’s warring internal energies crackling at the ready — blue and red, yin and yang, the outward expression of an inner struggle that fueled the Psiioniic’s powerful kung fu. He smiled fondly, as he always did when there was proof that his friend had learned his teachings well.

The leader of the highbloods stepped forward, his muscles rippling unnaturally beneath his hide, and the pale thatching of surgical scars visible around the wrist and shoulder of his left arm. The highblood hefted a club larger than the Signless was tall and whirled it with ease.

The Signless did not move.

“Twin Hells style, ARE YOU SHITTING ME?” the highblood cackled, looming over the Psiioniic, who held his ground. “You must be trying to get your ASS KICKED, FUCKER.” The highblood slammed the club into the ground barely inches from the Psiioniic’s feet, but he did not flinch. Not while he stood between their clubs and the Signless’s skull.

“Can I help you, honored ones?” the Signless said. The lead highblood growled.

“Fucking right you can. Got a word that some LOWBLOOD SHITSTAIN had a thought-eater worm shoved in his ear at what you might call an ILLEGAL FUCKING BACK-ALLEY CLINIC. Meaning that theoretical lowblood motherfucker is throwing around some serious brain firepower now. Enough that we gotta RIP IT OUT OF HIS FUCKING SKULL.”

The Signless saw the Psiioniic’s stance shift just a bit. With the highbloods growing more vicious by the day and most of them with a private army of Doctormentors to reshape their bodies at their whim, the Signless’s band had been forced to rely on the skills of illegal surgicarvers who pitied their cause. Artificial rainbow drinker blood for the Dolorosa, gravely wounded; real bone pouncebeast claws for his Disciple, little warrior that she was; and a though-worm, a beneficial vat-grown symbiote for the Psiioniic to level his endlessly fluctuating chi before it tore him apart from the inside. Only the Signless himself still lived in the body he spawned with. They’d been sure to cover their tracks, but the highbloods had found them anyway. The Signless hoped that nothing had happened to the poor surgicarver who had been so generous with her knife.

“8oss,” said a smaller one behind the leader — blueblood by the look of her robe, the pupils of one of her eyes dilating and contracting strangely. “8oss, it’s gotta 8e him — he’s leaving an energy signal a mile wide!”

“WELL, NO SHIT,” the leader bellowed, and the little blueblood cringed as though in anticipation of a strike. “Waste of some pretty good shit, there — oughtta be wired right into one of the armada’s bioships, rather than FUCKING AROUND WITH BULGEBITING LOWBLOOD KUNG FU.” The highblood whirled his club again, and the Signless recognized the sweeping, powerful strokes of what the Underground called Terminal Whimsy style, but the Subjugglators who originated it referred to as “a thorough motherfucking beatdown.”

The ringleader came at the Psiioniic with a wild swing, testing the water; the Psiioniic launched himself into the air nimbly. The highblood’s club connected with the ground where the Psiioniic used to be, hard enough to crack the earth. The shockwave from his mighty blow reached the Signless, rustling his hair.

Still, the Signless did not move.

The highblood leapt to follow the Psiioniic into the air, and they clashed together in the sky. The highblood’s arm rippled, his enhanced muscles bringing his club around for another impossibly strong swing — the Signless recognized the first of the Subjugglator’s “Twelve Lolarious Catastrophes”…powerful kung fu indeed, but he trusted his student. The Psiioniic’s eyes flashed, red and blue, as he parried the blow with his bare hands.

“You’re 2o quiick to diismii22 my fiightiing art2,” the Psiioniic said. “Clearly you’ve never 2een Twiin Hell2 2tyle practiiced wiithout one of your fuckiing 2lave ciircuiit2 holdiing iit back.” The force of the Psiioniic’s release of chi was deafening; he seized the highblood’s arm with a grip like iron, spun him around like a top, and slammed him into the ground.

And the Signless did not move.

When the dust cleared and their leader did not rise from beneath the crouched form of the Psiioniic, the highblood rabble stood gaping for a mere moment before charging. The Psiioniic grinned.

“Come and get iit,” he hissed, and so they did. All at once they surrounded him, seeking to overwhelm him with numbers, but the Psiioniic fought like two — no, five — no, the Psiioniic was a legion unto himself, everywhere at once. With a single stroke he parried four spear-wielding indigo-bloods; he swept a blueblood’s legs out from under him with his right foot before whirling around to face a purpleblood who crumpled like paper as the Psiioniic turned the force of his twinned chi upon him from a distance.

The Signless counted the highbloods who still stood as the Psiioniic fought. Ten, six, four, two, and finally one — the little bluebood who had spoken before, facing the Psiioniic with awe in her altered eyes.

The Psiioniic shifted his battle stance, ready to spring, and the Signless moved then.

“Halt,” he said.

“2iifu?” the Psiioniic said, glancing backwards, and in that moment of distraction the blueblood’s arm shot forward. A dart, small and thin like a needle, burst from an orifice in her palm to arc directly towards the Signless’s face.

The Signless’s hand moved, quick as lightning, to intercept the needle. It jabbed into his palm just to the right of his thumb and stood there, quivering.

The Psiioniic seized the blueblood by the collar, and she held up her hands.

“I’m not a warrior,” she said, holding up her hands, the dart-orifice sealed again. “Kill me, low8lood, and let me die here with my disgr8ce. I can’t fight you.”

“Then do not fight,” the Signless said, and plucked the needle from his hand. A thin line of bright red blood oozed from the wound, sliding down his wrist. He held out his hand, stained with the mutant blood that he had always refused to have corrected, and the blueblood stared in mixed wonder and disgust.

“I don’t underst8nd,” she said. “Why would you not k8ll me?”

“So that you may know mercy,” the Signless said. He laid his hand on her shoulder, his blood darkening the fabric of her robe, and she mouthed the word as though she had never heard it before. “Go, remember what you have seen but tell no one, and pity high and low alike.”

The blueblood wavered, kneeled, and left without a word.

The Psiioniic brushed some dirt off of his knees and cracked his knuckles. “2top 2caring me liike that, fucka22,” he said, and the Signless smiled gently.

“I am your sifu, Psii,” he said. “Show a little respect!”

“All riight. 2top scariing me liike that, 2iifu Fucka22,” the Psiioniic said, laughing as he bowed.

PROMPT: TEAM Dad<3Roxy

[mr2bonclay]

Feferi<>Nepeta, comedy + fantasy???

PROMPT: TEAM KARKAT<3TEREZI

[puppyloverpearl]

Gosh I love this <333333

Um, how about Steampunk and Comfort for Sollux<3Aradia? :3

FILL: TEAM GAMZEE<>KARKAT

[crabbygreymalkin]

Ara<3Sol is one of my favourites that I don't write very much of, so I was glad to find this prompt! I hope you enjoy.


His breath steams in the cold air, more than it did when he was fully organic, and you watch it curiously. You're familiar with how your own mechanical body works, of course, but you haven't seen it from the outside since you were a spirit and those memories are hazy. (Your guardian has always insisted that they are dreams and false memories, glitches caused by the transfer of your consciousness, and while you're uncertain of the accuracy of his assessment, you've chosen to keep your objections to yourself.)

"Does it hurt, Sollux? I think it must, being like that. Nerves and cogs all bound up together. They must scrape something awful."

He can hear you, you think, but he can't speak. It takes time for a pilot to recover conscious control of his faculties after installation, speech being one of the last to come back.

"It's alright, though. I'm going to get you out."

--

"His modifications will take some time to stabilise," your guardian tells you. "He mustn't be moved until then."

"Isn't he in pain?" you ask.

"He will suffer more if he is moved prematurely," he says, and retrieves a screwdriver from his jacket. "And the intent of installing him is for him not to be moved at all. Now hold still."

--

Every night, as soon as you can get away from the laboratory, you return to the engine-room.

Every night, the great ship flies another parsec closer to your destination.

Every night, Sollux is a little more aware, in a little less pain.

But he still can't speak, so you speak for him. You whisper reassurances into his ear, comb out his hair, tell him about the stars he's slowly, agonisingly drawing you past. You lay your hand against his skin and let him feel the cold metal, and for a little while his feverish shivering ceases.

You think it helps. You hope it helps. You can't remember for certain what love feels like, but you know you'd like him to be happy.

When the dayshift begins, you have to leave him. It is the most difficult part of your day. You don't tell this to your guardian.

--

One night, on your way to the engine, you feel a shudder, and a worried-looking gentleman in lieutenant's braids rushes from a door behind you.

"Is there something wrong with the ship?" you ask him, and he turns to you, startled, taking in your rust-red dress, your long hair, your feminine features, and draws the wrong conclusion.

"You shouldn't be here, ma'am," he says firmly, and takes you by the arm, clearly with the intent of escorting you back to the passenger quarters.

You don't budge. "I'm the chief mechanic's ward, sir, I'm well qualified to be on this deck. Now please tell me, is there something with the ship?"

"That's classified, I'm afraid, ma'am," he tells you, and were you still alive, you would fume. You're fairly sure you remember despising obfuscation. "But we can't allow anyone near the engine room right now who isn't certified crew, I'm sorry, but you'll have to go back to your quarters."

You consider. You could defy him, but that would mean exposing your nightly expeditions, and you can't risk being discovered by your guardian. Not so far out of port.

With a frustrated sigh, you acquiesce to the officer's request. Sollux will simply have to do without you tonight.

--

He finds out anyway. You discover when he comes back from fixing the steam pipes that the lieutenant told him.

He calls you a f001ish child and grounds you for the rest of the flight.

You still sneak out when you can, but it's considerably less frequent.

--

He tells you to remain in your room as the ship comes into port. Naturally, as soon as he leaves to inspect the pipes, you make your move. You have one chance, and you're not going to waste it. You'll miss him of course, but that can't be helped.

You know the ship by heart, as you know his routines. It's easy to slip into the starboard engine room when he leaves for the port room, and in a mechanic's uniform, with your hair pulled back, you look enough like a crewmember to pass.

When the ship comes to a stop, they do a few more checks, and you slip behind a column as they leave him. When the door closes, you come back to find his eyes open. He has heterochromia, you're intrigued to discover, each eye a pleasing shade of red or blue.

"What's your name?" His voice is a rough whisper, but it's better than being trapped in silence.

"It doesn't matter."

"You were here every night. You tried to help me when these scum only cared what I could do for them. At least tell me your name."

"Why do you assume I have one?"

"You told me about your dreams." He sounds smug to have worked it out. "Automatons don't dream, so you have to have been a person once. So you have to have a name."

So he did hear you. You'd blush, if you still could, to think of some of the things you told him. "Aradia," you say, ducking around behind him to access the main lines. "And this is going to hurt, I'm afraid. If you could not draw the attention of the crew, I'd be grateful."

He screams anyway as you begin to disconnect the hooks and input lines, though his voice doesn't carry, and for once you're grateful to be a machine. It allows you to finish quickly, without stopping.

"Aradia what?" he asks as you pull him down gently from the pillar.

"Captor," you say, and lay your hand on his face, and he attempts a smile as he closes his eyes again. Until you're safely off the ship, he says nothing more.

PROMPT: TEAM Dad<3Roxy

[mr2bonclay]

Aradia<3Sollux<3Feferi, dramaedy [is that allowed its already a mixed genre] and sci fi!

PROMPT: TEAM MEENAH<3<ROXY

[salticidae]

Redglare♠Mindfang

Picaresque + Diesel/Decopunk

PROMPT: TEAM Jake<3Terezi

[theycallmeruthless]

Ooooh, let's give Tavros<3Vriska something cute with Historical AU (Great Depression) + fluff because why not?

Super brownie points if Vriska isn't a bluh bluh abusive bitch.

FILL: TEAM English

[fencesatmidnight]

I'm not a big fan of Tavros<3Vriska but the "Great Depression" part reeled me in faster than you can say "history nut". Sorry if the fluff isn't fluffy or romantic enough, I tried. ;w; Warnings: fight scenes, Vriska cursing... that's it.

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Tavros sighed as he flipped through the wrinkled pages of some cuisine magazine that he had gotten from the train station (he had an odd habit of picking up reading material people left behind). The bundle of pencils and few slightly bruised apples he was supposed to sell sat in the mess tin on the bench he was sitting on. He'd had absolutely no luck in earning any money whatsoever, and if he was completely honest, he doubted that his luck was going to change any time soon. The only reason Tavros was staying at his usual post at the book store's bench was just so that he could meet Vriska after she was finally done with her mysterious "lessons" at the deserted lot and go get groceries after stopping by the soup kitchen. The two of them lived with their guardians, both war veterans in their own right, in a boxcar by the soup kitchen.

The money Tavros had been given was kept securely in his jacket pocket, strapped there for extra security. Carrying money while alone was a risky thing, but he operated on the assumption that people would sooner take the apples than search him. It provided some measure of comfort, at least.

That was why, when a scruffy-looking thug approached Tavros, he was able to keep the fright at a minimum and forced out a grin, just like his cousin had told him to a long time ago. Confident, he was confident.

"Hello, uh, would you, uh, like to purchase something?" Tavros managed as the large troll's glare morphed into a wide, sinister grin.

"Yeh. I would like ta purchase the money ya got hidden somewhere," he spat, gobs of off-colour spit becoming airborne. "Fer free." Needless to say, Tavros was scared out of his mind. He wanted to run, he'd give anything to be able to run at that moment, but for obvious reasons, his only means of escape wasn't an option.

"Uhh, I'm afraid that's, uh, not for "sale", not at all," Tavros said, determinedly reminding himself that he could do this, he could stand up to this guy. No big deal. None at all.

"Well boy, it is now!" the troll replied, grinning when Tavros flinched as he grabbed hold of one of his wide horns. "You need some persuasion, now do ya?" Before Tavros could say anything else, there was a soft clattering sound as he was lifted shakily to his semi-useless feet. His crutches fell from his grip and the troll kicked them away, snickering loudly. Shaking in both fear and anger, Tavros attempted to elbow his assaulter in the ribs, but he was pushed away to and arm's length. This was followed by a loud thud as his eye was given a rather impactful introduction to his bully's fist. Tavros groaned as stars began to explode before his eyes and the world began to spin. He was only pulled back from the darkness creeping in when a familiar, enraged voice rang out on the relatively empty street.

"Hey, you filthy bastard! What do you even think you're doing? You want to pick on him, then I'm sorry, but you'll have to schedule an appointment, because currently his calendar is all filled up by me!" Vriska screeched. Tavros couldn't help but feel relieved at the familiar pitch and tone of a pissed off Vriska. The sound of her angry footsteps and mocking calls on both sides percolated through into his consciousness. Tavros wasn't sure when, but at some point, the troll had dropped him back onto the bench and his head was ringing from what must have been impact with the wall behind him. He rubbed the aching bases of his horns and tried to make sense of the fight before him. Vriska was fighting tooth and claw, but her opponent had her pinned on the floor. Determined to be of use, Tavros fumbled for his crutches and found them lying next to the bench. Gripping one tightly, he swung blindly at the large mass of muscle which was keeping Vriska down. The end of the crutch connected with some part of him, and Vriska grabbed the opportunity to spring up and keep his arms in a firm lock behind his back.

"Go before I shred you to pieces," Vriska snarled, baring her teeth threateningly. That seemed to do the trick. The troll was off in mere seconds. Tavros waited for Vriska to yell at him about not handling the guy on his own, about how he could've taken that moron down quick if he'd just TRY, bluh bluh. Instead, Vriska spun around and was dancing a bizarre sort of happy dance.

"Did you see that, Tavros? Did you? It was soooooooo awesome. He just took off like quicksilver!" Vriska crowed, striking a victorious pose. "And you, Pupa Pan, that was brilliant! Couldn't've done it without you. Damn!" Looping her arm through his, Vriska heaved as she helped Tavros get up into a standing position with his crutches. He swallowed nervously and picked up the mess tin, heart beating fast. Just as he was about to say something, he saw that the skin around Vriska's good eye was beginning to show signs of bruising.

"You got a black eye, Vriska," Tavros said worriedly, steadying himself on his crutches. "Does it hurt?" He pinned a crutch to his side with his elbow as he prodded lightly at the bruises, momentarily forgetting about the scolding he'd get from her.

"Gee, you think? And here I was thinking that a fairy came by and painted the some nice flowers there. It feels like magic," Vriska retorted, swatting his hand away. "Concentrate on walking, you're weak enough on your feet as it is. A victory doesn't mean time for relaxation." Tavros obediently withdrew, leaning on Vriska only slightly to move. Tavros must've had some variation of a kicked puppy's expression, because Vriska nudged him gently and hooted with laughter.

"Well, we match now, don't we? We both have black eyes. Your cousin is going to have a fit when he sees us," Vriska cackled. Tavros shrugged, smiling.

"Let him. Uh, I mean, see, this look fits me, doesn't it?" Tavros attempted to boast, puffing out his chest jokingly. He stopped short when Vriska parked herself in front of him, holding him at an arm's length and inspecting his face. Tavros was beginning to worry that he had been too over-the-top when she began to snigger.

"It does indeed. Makes you look less like a wimpy idiot," Vriska said with an air of finality. She stretched up to give him a very quick, very soft peck on the cheek before swiftly returning to her position beside him.

"And that's a good thing, mind you," Vriska added. She acted as if nothing unusual had happened, but Tavros was grinning widely.

"Say, uh, I think it was rather worth it," Tavros replied cheekily. Vriska shot a glare at him.

"Wipe that goofy smile off your face. You're exhibiting the wrong kind of confidence," Vriska replied, stepping closer to him. "Hurry uuuuuuuup. Spinneret's waiting!" And with that, Vriska began to drag Tavros behind her, her face tinged with just a hint of blue, his smile still as bashful and delighted as it had been.

PROMPT: TEAM KARKAT<3TEREZI

[puppyloverpearl]

Parody and romance for John<3Karkat~

FILL: TEAM JOHN<3DAVESPRITE

[chouettechouette]

ok so this is maybe more parody than anything but this is the first place my mind went to



old school shoujo manga/riyoko ikeda style lol i'm sorry

PROMPT: TEAM SOLLUX<>TEREZI

[rydia]

Sollux <3 Karkat, steampunk/space opera

PROMPT: TEAM PARCELPYXIS

[zivlok]

I want some John<3Vriska that's an Aaron Sorkin-style (West Wing, etc.) drama about working in a government office or a news station or whatever (the drama of the behind the scenes folks), but it's also a kaiju (japanese monster movies, like Godzilla) film-esque thing.

FILL: TEAM DAVE <3 VRISKA

[simpleruser]

I knew I'd seen this prompt. Hell yes I'm doing this. Hope it's up to scratch even if I haven't got anywhere near Sorkin's writing style. Sorry it's kinda short!

Vriska swings around on her chair. Light day in the office. Sun is shining outside, spider is staying put in its tank despite ample prodding so she's taken it upon herself to get sick to her stomach. It's not working.

She skids to a stop when she hears a knock on the door and looks up. John enters the room simultaneously suppressing a smile and looking apologetic as he was obviously interrupting very important business. She grips the edge of the desk to stop her head rotating.

"I know you're probably thinking about matters of national security and whatever but I you might want to take a look at the headline to prepare yourself. It's not a big thing-" she looks at the picture paper-clipped to the file he's dumped in front of her. Oh, no of course that's tiny, "- But CNN's got it and I figured hey! Why not share the reporting news with the one and only press secretary."

"Hey, John? Mind giving me a tiny hint as to what I'm looking at here."

He doesn't twitch a muscle. "Godzilla's prettier cousin."

"Of course. Okay. When everyone asks me, 'Hey Vriska, you know that thing that's rampaging around, what are you going to do with that?' do you have an answer for me or am I going to have to come up with something on the spot?"

His mouth does twitch at that. "Well, NSA have been talking setting up a pen." Another twitch. "And an amusement park." A short choke of laughter. "And a petting zoo." And then he dissolves into a fit of giggles. Vriska pulls him into a quick kiss before heading off to the briefing room.

Probability she can keep it together more than John in there: 88%. Karkat wouldn't think it was high enough.

PROMPT: TEAM KANAYA<3VRISKA

[memyselfandi]

Jade<3Davesprite, coffeeshop au + magical realism

Re: PROMPT: TEAM KANAYA<3VRISKA

[mr2bonclay]

i might have a drawing idea for this i hope i can get it out for you!

PROMPT: TEAM DAVESPRITE<3JADE

[rhedbird]

Karkat<>Kanaya, running couples therapy place + cheesy film dialogue.
(Because this would be the best thing ever.)

PROMPT: TEAM ERIDAN<>ROSE

[headlessbird]

Dave <> or <3 Tavros
Football (Soccer) + supernatural

FILL: TEAM Aradia<>Dave

[eremiticantiquarian]

Dave is the last one in the boys' locker room. The guys he barely knew had left, not even looking back at the new kid to see if he was coming. Dave was used to it. He was always the new kid; It is part of the job description.

The young man is panicked. He doesn't even know this sport, so how in the world is he still expected to work this case? Who decided to assign this to him? He is going to kick their ass later. Right now though, it worries him and his heart races.

He sits on the bench in front of his locker, adjusting what he came to know has his shin guards. He hangs his head and tries to figure out his game plan.

A chill quickly fills the room, a couple open lockers slam shut. Goosebumps raise like the living dead from Dave's flesh. He sits at full attention. A presence appeares sitting beside him.

Another young man, about his age based on appearance. Sallow skin and jaundiced eyes. He wears his hair in a mohawk and is clad in a pokemon t-shirt that Dave suspects isn't supposed to be ironic. He slowly smiles at Dave, exposing sharp teeth.

"Always with the dramatic entrances, Tav."

"Well, you, uh, know me," the grey-skinned boy grins at him.

Tavros speaks the truth. He does known him, ever since that Hell Bubble incident that Aradia assigned him to over a year ago. Since then, he's had his very own pet ghost who follows him around like a puppy and pretty much worships him. It could be worse, he supposes.

He looks away from the dead boy. Dave taps his fingers on the bench, plays at the hem of his shorts, adjusts his sunglasses. Dave grabs a football from the floor. He spins the black and white sphere over in his hands. Finally speaks again.

"I really have to go play football, don't I? You're absolutely sure this is what needs to be done?"

Tavros laughs at him, haunting and distant but still filled with a certain familiar warmth.

"Yes, Dave. Is there some reason you think that I would be untruthful with you, maybe?"

Dave shakes his head. He is terrible at sports, this is going to be an embarrassing exorcism and he knows it. He is going to get laughed at back at the office and that made him tense more than any case he has worked on.

Then a little light flips on inside his head.

"Did you ever play? When you were alive?"

Tavros beams at him and nods vigorously. Then the excitement slows. Dave watches the realization flash in the ghost's eyes, not even having to lay out what he has to say on the table. The ghost cocks his head, Dave gives him a sharp nod. An unspoken understanding between the two of them.

Tavros bends towards him. His hand on Dave's cheek makes him wonder if his face is numb, barely felt, barely solid. The cold, dark lips feel like they hovered over his even as he knows they press against his. A shiver shoots down his spine as Tavros works his mouth open. Dave would deny that it was from pleasure. It is totally related to the whole ghost thing. But they'd both been in his head and they both know the truth.

The kiss is soft, light. Reassuring. Not demanding.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and the chill is out of the air and Tavros is nowhere to be seen.

The young man opens his locker, removes his sunglasses and sets them on the top shelf. He sees himself in the small magnetic mirror. The whites of his eyes have yellowed, the albino red irises have darkened to a reddish-brown. And he sees himself grinning widely.

"HEY!" A voice screams inside his head. "I don't smile, cut that out right now!"

"Hush now, Dave," he says, in an ethereal tone. "Just sit back and, umm, let me show you how this game is played."

Dave sighs. Trapped inside of his own head, he resigns himself to at least try to learn something from this experience.

He wishes he had popcorn.

PROMPT: TEAM DAVESPRITE<3JADE

[rhedbird]

Romantic comedy + Running a sweet shop, Dirk<3Jane.

Re: PROMPT: TEAM DAVESPRITE<3JADE

[kezziez]

I am definitely considering making a fill for this one. Wish me luck! c:

PROMPT: Team Jake<3Jane

[veryberrybunch]

How about Dave<3Jade<3Rose<3John

Supernatural + psychological horror

PROMPT: TEAM DAVESPRITE<3JADE

[rhedbird]

Gamzee<>Karkat, funfair + Heartwarming family film.

PROMPT: TEAM ECTOBIOLOGY

[indolent]

Eridan<3<Feferi, curtainfic + cosmic horror

Re: PROMPT: TEAM ECTOBIOLOGY

[mr2bonclay]

oh man if i understood those genres more id so draw something u.u

PROMPT: TEAM ARADIA<3DAVE

[kuma_mon]

Sollux <3< Eridan, Magical Girl + Sitcom

PROMPT: TEAM SOLLUX<>TEREZI

[rydia]

Gamzee <3 Karkat, highschool/college au + genderswap??? is that a genre? Haha, if not, I guess...romantic comedy! :D;; I dunno.

FILL: TEAM FEFERI<3VRISKA

[theamazingkid]

http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5fgaq1sSz1qgxnlno1_500.png


KARKAT:I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU CHEATED SO WE COULD WIN THIS IDIOTIC CONTEST.
KARKAT: I PITY YOU, GAMZEE. I REALLY DO.
KARKAT: <3


(this is supposed to look like it's from a high school yearbook! hopefully you can tell :D)