hso_mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hso_mods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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 ERIDAN<>ROSE
FILL: TEAM Roxy<3Dirk
I hope you like it.))
Once upon a time, there was a prince and there was a princess.
I am fully aware that most of the fairy tales you've been told start with either a prince or a princess, and the other one comes in later, as a romantic interest. As the savior or the damsel in distress, the plot device that barely gets a name and is largely a thoroughfare to a happy ending. But our tale starts with both parties already acquainted and, in fact, in a quadrant.
Yes, my oh my. I certainly am breaking the rules of story-telling. Stay away from Shakespeare for a few years, kid; I have a feeling it just might shock you into a coma.
Princess Feferi was, literally, the princess of Alternia. Next in line to become Her Imperial Condescension, she had lasted into her sixth sweep without being culled, so her chances for ascension were looking pretty fair. She was sweet and caring and disliked many of the traditions of her forbearers, but she also realized that, in order to overcome the bulking, discriminatory system of castes and hatered, she would have to use rules and tact and the very bureaucracy which she hated to her advantage. Passionate though she was, she was not stupid, and she knew that she would have to be patient.
Knowing something in one's head and knowing it in one's heart, however, are not necessarily the same.
Her moirail was not a literal prince, not in line to inherit anything, but he was certainly a seadwelling troll of high stature, and he expected to be treated as one. He would call himself a prince, if asked, because who was going to call him on it?
Well, that's a story for another day.
He was the one that kept Feferi from doing anything drastic that would change the way her people saw her. His motivations, surely, were not the same as hers (he was a foil to her in many ways, a fervent believer in the hemospectrum and in the unquestionable, violent superiority of seadwellers to all others), but he kept her -Excit---------Em-Ent in check. In return, she kept him from murdering people. Well, at least their friends. Because this story has an evil queen. Well, two, counting Her Actual Imperial Condescension. But she doesn't factor into our story too much.
The biggest problem in the princess's day to day life was her largest responsibility: her lusus had to be fed. And it feasted exclusively on the corpses of other lusii. Though she loved her lusus and would never let it starve for its sake and the sake of her many future subjects, she was not the sort to kill so frequently herself. She would have become the sort, if she had had to, like all of the other Tyrian Bloods before her, but as things stood, she was rather glad she had Eridan to take care of that for her. She knew not what he did to get them, and it was not a train of thought she longed to pursue.
Things were nice, for a while. Or maybe fine is a better word for it. In the way that when people ask how you are and you tell them fine because it doesn't matter, not really, and it's all little stuff, and eventually you start believing it yourself. But they were a ticking time bomb of barely restrained passion and conflicting views and dissatisfaction about the state of things.
He confessed that he was less pale for her than he was red, and she confessed that it was getting old. With no small amount of bitterness, as their entire world was collapsing, they went their separate ways. No longer did she need him to hold back her ambition or to cull lusii for her, and no longer did he want to put up with having her in a quadrant that wasn't the one he wanted her in. (He regretted losing what he had more than anything else, after, but that's beside the point.)
He became an actual prince and she became a princess no longer, still royal and still occupying the high ground, but assigned the monicker of witch. Really, it worked much better that way. They were both what they had always been meant to be.
A lot of things happened, after that. A lot of stalling and shuffling feet and a lot of just barely getting things done. They were born and sent back in time. They all found shortcuts, the prince and the no-longer-princess and all of their friends, and with their old world dead, they didn't even manage to enjoy the new one they erected. Because they fucked up, and they fucked up bad.
And then they were in the eye of the storm, having already lost, hiding from the game over screen in the corner of a meteor. Her Highness found a new moirail, and the prince found a new hobby. Magic or science, call it what you will, the prince found power.
For a short, blissful while, they were still friends. It fit awkwardly on them, and both had some residual feelings from both their relationship and the breakup, but they couldn't just let go of each other so easily.
And then he killed her.
Wait, no. It wasn't that simple. He, the Prince of Hope, was trying to buy them all a new hope, a possible way out, and he was trying to convince the others--convince her, at least--to join him. But she'd always had stronger morals than he, always been less troll and more of something else entirely, always known exactly what she wanted things to look like and prickled when things went differently.
She said no. And everyone else was on her side. And he was, for once, passionate about something that was his own and not what he was supposed to be, and he was frustrated. Everyone was taking it the wrong way and no one would listen and he snapped. The princess's oh-so-fabulous, oh-so-better-than-he moirail wanted a challenge? So be it.
He was better at fighting and tactics and war, willing to kill, and with his science-magic-who-even-cares, he took the poser down easily. And then she came at him, angry and passionate as ever and he felt something stir in him that he hadn't felt in a while, and he took her out, too.
Yes, he killed her. Killed his ex-moirail whom he thought he'd been in red with. And he had a hard time regretting it.
And then Kanaya, who'd treated him so well and whom he had even come to trust, attacked him, and he killed her too. Because, hell, there was no hope left for them anyways, so why not? Now that he'd taken the life of his best-friend-slash-ex-slash-crush-slash-whatever, what was one more? What was the spilled blood of one more who had turned on him?
And then Kanaya killed him, and they'd come sort of full circle. He really should have seen it coming. Classic tragedy. Everyone dies, bringing themselves and each other and everyone down, and nothing is resolved beforehand. All of the loose ends are left a dangling, awful, unresolved mess for the few survivors and the sadistic readers to pull something meaningful out of.
Full circle.
He woke up. Sort of. It was more just that he started being, that things sort of fuzzily wobbled and then came into existence around him, like they had always been there, and he just went along with it.
He and Fef were having that fateful conversation, and the deja-vu tickled at the back of his mind, but he was too busy being mad at her to notice. Being fitfully, overwhelmingly, viciously mad. And he started shouting and she started shouting back and the point came where they both remembered everything but nobody stopped shouting because it only gave them more to shout about. And it wasn't over the computer, any more, because they were barely a hairsbreadth away from each other, shouting words into each other's steamy, shouting mouths and tensing all of their muscles as they tried to get the upper hand.
And then the infinitesimal distance was no more, and they were messily kissing and shouting and biting; scratching and shoving and fighting.
"I hate you," he said through heaving breaths, and she scowled.
"You're an over dramatic, manipulative fool. But I guess you've finally hooked me into a quadrant with your pathetic bass."
He froze, which gave her the opportunity to take the upper hand and knock him over. "Fef, what are you saying?"
"What do you think I'm saying, doofish? I hate you." And he could hear it, deep in her throat, oozing out of every word. She meant it.
And, finally, everything was just as it was always meant to be.
After all, they had always disagreed, had only ever liked each other for what they could be (and didn't want to become), and the string of murders was only the latest in a long line of wrongs.
Possibly the first one that was remotely right. Because it was direct and deliberate and it had led to... oh, cod, what was she doing? At this rate, they were going to need a bucket. Fast. Oh gog.
Re: FILL: TEAM Roxy<3Dirk
Re: FILL: TEAM Roxy<3Dirk