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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 Dave<3Sollux
FILL: TEAM DAVE<3DIRK
There once was a boy named Dave Strider. He doesn't exist any more.
In his place stands a man who weilds a sword half his weight and relishes the sensation of the steel biting into his hands. He loves the swing and the taste of (murder) vengeance that hangs in the air.
In his place, stands a killer.
And always by his side, his (sidekick?bestfriend?soulmate?)--
Another killer.
II.
There once was a city named Alternia. A tall, beautiful city, right on the crux of development.
Until they developed themselves right into death and back again.
Needless to say, it doesn't exist any more. Only a ghost of the city remains, and only the monsters inhabit it.
Aradia is very familiar with monsters. After all, she's been living with them her entire life. The one by her side now might wear a pretty moniker and a pretty jacket and, undoubtedly, a pretty face, but he's a monster all the same.
Just like her. Just like him.
III.
There's a whine that wakes him up, rings in his ears and alerts him to something more. His mind clicks and whirrs as the gears shift into place and his eyes snap open, awake and alert and who is sitting on my chest?
He cranes his neck and it's her, it's always her. From the dirty brown leather goggles she wears to the matching whip in her hands, he recognises everything about her.
"Mind getting off?" he grunts out eventually,
She looks down at him and smiles. Doesn't move. "People don't come here any more," is all she says.
"Really? Then what am I doing here?"
"Well, no one that dances anywhere near as well as you do."
She doesn't mean a tango, either. Eventually, she slides off Dave's chest and almost makes no noise as she hits the ground.
He heaves in a breath of relief and sits up, stubbornly ignoring the wave of nausea that hits. He sets a hand down to steady himself, and eventually it passes. When he lifts his hands up to cradle his head, they're covered in blood.
None of it is his. It's all theirs and he's hit with another wave of nausea, one he almost fails to swallow down, but it's not his fault! It isn't his fault. He didn't ask-- he didn't want--
The hand on his shoulder drags him back to reality. She hands him his boots and his jacket and squeezes the hand on his shoulder and says, "It's a crowd, out there. Ready to dance?"
There's a quirk on his lip, ever so slight but she catches it. She always does.
He pushes his shades up further on his nose and when he stands, he's ready. He holds his hand out for her. "May I...?"
She laughs and takes a little bow, then passes his sword (handle first quick learner) into his outstretched hand. "It'd be my pleasure."
They dance.
IV.
He can hear the clock tick in his mind, the perfect beat keeping time to the music in his head. It synchronises perfectly with the screams and gutteral moans that echo around him (block it out keep it out heft the headphones high heft the sword and swing slice cut and ignore it).
He can hear her footsteps dance in time beside him, a shuffle and a beat missed but never a step out of tune. They dance a perfect dance, even as (especially as) hands grip and slice at their skin, grappling for anything to hold on to grab on to rip tear apart--
The blood splatters on their clothes, but that's okay. They've long since learned to survive the bloodstains on their clothes and on their weapons and in their hair. Better someone else's blood easily removed than their own blood not so easily replaced.
He throws her a glance and she catches it, nods, moves beside him and they cordon the crowd off, using the steps of their dance and her whip to keep them in place.
He taps his feet with the tune. His tune. Their tune. Four bars rest then step forward swing fast quick allegretto moving into vivace and she moves beside him, whip moving in tune to his sword. It is a veritable storm, an ugly bloodbath as limbs fly and heads fly and feet fly but not theirs. Never theirs.
They're down. She quick steps back, moving into a tango, and he claps.
"Well danced," he says.
"I have a good partner," she says back with a grin.
Their dance is over (for now) but the dregs of it still tingles on his skin.
She picks up a head (still bleeding still moving? still disgusting) and dances.
---V?. -I?(?)
There once were two kids named Dave and Aradia. They don't exist anymore. For now just surviving is enough.
(and maybe a dance along the way)
(wow, that... good somewhat out of hand. Too many dancing metaphors! Aha... ha;;;;)
Re: FILL: TEAM DAVE<3DIRK
-EA (Team Aradia<>Dave)
Re: FILL: TEAM DAVE<3DIRK
Lovely writing and development of the relationship!