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hs_olympics2012-06-10 01:02 am
hso_mods) wrote in hs_olympics2012-06-10 01:02 am
Entry tags:
BONUS ROUND 1
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
- 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.
- Look through the prompts and fill whichever you like!
- You may not fill prompts for your ship, nor may you fill your own team's prompts.
- 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.
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.
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!
PROMPT: TEAM BRO<3GRANDPA
Ship: Dave <3 Dave
FILL: TEAM JOHN<3VRISKA
----
You’re standing in the corner of a circular room, and you’re also standing in the other corner of the circular room. The other you is wearing a military jacket over a muumuu. You think to ask, but you realize that you probably already know the answer.
You – the other you – speaks first. “They’re losing you,” you say.
“What?” you say.
You repeat the words again, but this time the noise echoes off the walls, causing a chorus of “Doc, we’re losing him.” The voice doesn’t belong to either of you, but it sounds familiar anyways. You forget why, and the room contracts.
You’re standing closer to yourself now, and occasionally you beep at you. You raise an eyebrow, and you shrug at you like you don’t get it either. Beep.
You have the urge to get closer to you because, let’s face it, you’re pretty attractive. So you take one step, three steps closer, and the walls of the room follow you so you stop, but the other you starts coming closer too, and next thing you know you’re standing nose to nose with yourself, red eyes to red eyes.
“Prepare the defibrillator,” the other you says, and fuck you if that’s not the hottest thing anybody’s ever said to you. You pull yourself close to you and – why not? – you kiss yourself right on the lips.
You flat line.
Re: FILL: TEAM JOHN<3VRISKA
hallelujah dear lord thank you so much dreamwidth user tehstripe
per...perfection
Re: FILL: TEAM JOHN<3VRISKA
i dont think ive ever seen pronouns be this good or this creepy in my life
Re: FILL: TEAM JOHN<3VRISKA
FILL: TEAM DAVE<3TAVROS
--
I.
The colors swirl around the trees and drip, drip down the roots to the clouds and then dissolve into neon crows, their feathers sinking like lead into a cup.
You watch them swimming, and groan.
II.
White ghosts circle around you, their faces electric purple and lime yellow, and with each drip of color they grow taller and taller, until they cover the royal blue of the sky in their masks, and the only thing you can see is the sun, bright orange and burning. They twist around themselves, blinking, and they too turn into crows; at first one, then two, three, and then the three were six, and then a million crows, white and purple and yellow. The sun swallowed them, getting bigger each time; and each of them sang a note, until they were a symphony, and you too wanted to sing with them, grow your wings and sing, sing and fly to the sun, and burn, and sing, and drip in colors down the roots.
--
You are feverish; you are delirious. The doctors stuff your veins with medicine.
--
III.
You open your jacket; There is a hole in your chest, oozing blood; it smells like asphalt and you can feel the artificial taste of strawberry syrup in the back of your tongue. The crows fly all around you, calling for you, daring you to go with them; little by little your blood turns to one, and your organs, and then you are singing and flying too, three hundred of you swirling to the sun.
IV.
You go through the center of the sun, and there you see Rose and Jade and John dancing with various copies of you; but then they are not Rose and Jade and John anymore: they are all you, dancing with you inside bottles of apple juice. There is one you left, and he extends his hand to you. You take it, and you two dance.
--
Nothing works.
--
V.
You kiss yourself while you are dancing, and then you are the two of you again; You kiss him again, and then you're just you. You decide you cannot decide if you like being two or being one better, so you keep kissing him; The crows are back now, watching you. The branches of the neon trees start to come out of the sun, and then you are dancing underwater, and all the crows became half fish.
--
You are not responsive to the medicine, and you are getting worse.
--
VI.
The other you stops kissing you, and looks up. You are underwater and everything is colored in shades of blue and teal and green, and a moon shines fat over the water. You are still bleeding.
VII.
The crows are now flying in spirals, like a staircase; they come out of the ground, endless, and go all the way to the moon.
VIII.
You ask other you if, when you go up the staircase, everything will end. He shrugs.
--
Your brain is short-circuiting; they try to bring you back.
--
IX.
You try to go down instead of going up, and after a while you have passed the center of the earth. There is a smuppet here; you think Bro would be happy to know it.
--
The doctors are desperate. Bro is there, watching you hooked into machines.
--
X.
You are on the edge of the roof; there is no wind. Looking down, you can see the center of the world, and the ocean; The moon at the end of the staircase is just a little dot lost into the blue. When you blink, other you is there, and you hold his hand. Then you close your eyes, and fall.
--
You stop. There is nothing anyone can do now.
Re: FILL: TEAM DAVE<3TAVROS
FILL: TEAM KERNELSPRITE
You're also getting less hot at a rough rate of one degree per hour because you are dead as shit. Look at you, just lying there. You can see your most gracious self reflected in the shiny wet surface of your liver, because you just gave yourself something from a bottle on the table labeled GIVE HIM THE STICK instead of whatever it is you give people cut open in hospitals.
You're not even a doctor. You just fucking walked in here.
There's juices and things in there, stuff you've never seen before. Maybe you should do something about this, massage your heart or suction something or whatever. Maybe that's what a doctor would do. Maybe that's what you would do, if you were a doctor. If you were a doctor you wouldn't cup your dead bladder like a girl's nascent boob. You wouldn't breathe deeply and smell your own dead guts, shitty and musky and metal. Goddamn.
With your free hand you pull off your own shades and plant them firmly over your left ventricle, your aorta curving up under the arch of the nosepiece like it had been grown in a vat specifically to wear those shades. There are no words for how cool you are in this moment.
You reach in. Both hands. Your guts churn up around your wrists, then your elbows. Further. You lean forward. The tip of your nose slides between two fat curls of intestine.
The hands grasp yours and you pull.
You pull for years, ages, long enough to become a real doctor, cure cancer, retire, and die. You pull harder and you feel your guts stretch around something big. Your dead face rolls to the side, its shades fall off onto the floor, and you can see the ocean reflected in there. Your dead mouth opens and the sound that comes out is the sound of the ocean. You pull.
Hands pull up out of your guts, then arms, then your head, then your shoulders, then you're out.
“Sup,” you say.
“Not much,” you say.
You're both doctors now. Shit yeah.
Re: FILL: TEAM KERNELSPRITE
oh god why am I laughing so hard
Re: FILL: TEAM KERNELSPRITE