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hs_olympics2012-06-10 01:02 am
hso_mods) wrote in hs_olympics2012-06-10 01:02 am
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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 DAD♥ROXY
FILL: TEAM DIRK<3JAKE<3JANE<3ROXY
Kanaya doesn't understand why he can't be more careful with her creations. Their hero costumes simultaneously create their hero identities, and protect who their true identities are. This is so important for Karkat. Especially Karkat.
Kanaya doesn't know what society would do if they discovered he was a mutant. It is all fine and dandy when he runs around saving the world, but the second he takes off the mask and reveals himself to be a red-blood, this whole game ends. Her partner would be vilified, despite how many lives he has saved. Worse, the other trolls would rip him to shreds. Karkat would be killed, just for his blood, the very thing that gives him his mutant powers.
Kanaya lets out a frustrated sigh at the thought. Karkat could be so flippant whenever she tried to press the issue. He might have been loud and brash, but he was her moirail. Both of them had survived so much together. Was it wrong that she wanted to protect him? But what can you do with an undead jadeblood and a mutant redblood? Such an unlikely pair couldn't possibly make much of a difference here on Alternia, could it?
"Kanaya! Are you fucking done fixing that yet? I am done being sequestered inside, sitting on my ass. We got places to be and trolls to save, for God's sake."
Kanaya looks up to find Karkat standing in the doorway that opens to the stairwell below. He is shielding himself from the bright sunlight Kanaya adores so much. She walks over to him in and enters the stairwell so he can close the door behind them.
Kanaya sees he is clearly perturbed and paps him once lightly on the cheek before handing him the costume. He can be out in the sunlight if he wears it. It is made out of a material that shields Karkat from the sun. She made sure of that. Being able to endure sunlight is one thing that makes their herowork possible. Trolls are less likely to attempt to trap them and uncover their identities during the day.
Karkat carefully and reverently runs his fingers over her repair work. He will never admit it, but he is thankful, and perhaps even a little awed by Kanaya's abilities. Slicing trolls in two certainly isn't her only talent. When she isn't taking on the worst of the worst of Alternian society, Kakaya was quite the seamstress. Sometimes Kanaya wonders what her life would be like if she could live quietly, normally, or anything other than this crazy hero existence Karkat convinced her to live.
Kanaya even catches the small quirk at the corner of his mouth. He never smiles, but sometimes she sees his mouth twitch like that and she knows he is pleased.
"Thanks," he says and gives her arm a reassuring squeeze. Then Karkat catches himself and glares at her and begins to stomp down the stairs.
Well, isn't someone awfully affectionate today?
Kanaya wonders if she should try to see if he wants to talk, to urge him to actually discuss his feelings in her fabric pile. Something is clearly on his mind, but she has to approach Karkat carefully. It is too easy to spook him, and she is trying to be a better moirail than what he had in the past. The poor guy has been burned before.
"Why don't we go and prepare ourselves some lunch before we leave?" Kanaya suggests as she trails behind Karkat.
Kanaya doesn't see any use in rushing out to save the world on an empty stomach. As Karkat continues down the stairs she tries not to eye his neck too obviously. Maybe he'd let her steal a drink. His blood not only tasted divine, but also boosted her abilities. The only problem was it kind of freaked Karkat out. It might also destroy any chance of having a feelings jam later, because he kind of got weird with her after she drank from him.
"Fucking stop it," he grumbles, not even turning around to face her in the narrow stairwell.
"Stop What, Karkat?" Kanaya asks, but she has a nagging suspicion that her neck lusting has been discovered.
"Stop eying my neck like it's the last drop of water on Alternia. I'm not your personal drinking fountain."
No, no he wasn't. Karkat was her partner and her moirail, and he was also the only troll she ever controlled her rainbow drinker urges with. Any other troll would have fallen victim of her vile needs, but Karkat was different.
Karkat was a mutant, and yes he eventually manifested certain physical abilities, but he was special in other ways too. Karkat had this way of bringing her and other trolls together, and despite his less than sunny disposition, he was inspiring and kind. And most importantly, Kanaya had more pale feelings for him than she had ever had with any other troll she had ever known. Her sham of a pale relationship with Vriska was nothing in comparison with what she had with Karkat. This is how a moirallegiance should be.
When they enter the kitchen Karkat grabs a few food items and plops them down on counter. He was a much better cook than she. He cooked, she sewed, and their shared cleaning duties. It was all very domestic.
There was also a great amount of stability in their relationship. Whenever the scale tipped one way with one of them, the other was always able to balance it out. When Kanaya raged, unable to control herself, Karkat would pap and shoosh her until she came back to herself. When Karkat exploded and dove into one of his verbal onslaughts or diatribes of disgust, she was always able to calm by listening and giving a few well-placed shooshes. It was then they'd end up in the fabric pile, and she realized she was closer to him than she ever imagined being to another troll.
Karkat breaks Kanaya's thoughts as he repeatedly pushes a plate of food at her.
"Just eat it already," he encourages.
When they are done with the meal Kanaya rinses the dishes. She is surprised to find Karkat sitting on a stool, his sweatshirt off. It confuses her for a second until she realizes what he is implying.
"What in the fuck are you staring at? Like I want your toothy exploits all over my shirt? Then I'd just have to hear you whine more about how I always ruin the things you make me. Just get to biting or sucking or whatever already."
The gesture catches her off guard. It is very sweet of him. She knows how much her drinking his blood bothers him. Kanaya shares a toothy smile and gives him a long, sidelong glance. Instead of biting, Kanaya takes him by the hand and leads them to her room and to their fabric pile.
Re: FILL: TEAM DIRK<3JAKE<3JANE<3ROXY
FILL: TEAM PARCELPYXIS
During the night hours, you are a glamorous fashion photojournalist in a prestigious magazine.
When the day rises and the streets of Prospit turn into an unsafe snare for the wandering troll, you become the Sylph.
At the moment, you are shadowing – if you'll excuse the pun – your good friend Karkat Vantas.
Karkat and you met a handful of sweeps ago. He was dating Terezi and you were pining after Vriska, and the woes of quadrant confusion, as well as maybe kinship of spirit, threw you together. You hit off right away : both of your held a keen interest in cultural objects of a romantic nature, though his enthusiasm ran indiscriminate, while you preferred romances with a paranormal angle.
Maybe your current diurnal occupation finds its roots there ; your costume certainly does. It takes a certain flair to pull off the nouveau-rainbowdrinker garb the Sylph is renowned for, and you manage exquisitely, if you can say so for yourself.
Spending time with him then was a balm to your soul, soothing and exhilaratingly tender. You went out of your way to comfort him, even going so far as resting your hand on his arm ; and the anguished hope in his eyes led you to believe that he might have shouted a lot, but he wouldn't have broken away from a hug, had you embraced him. When he'd clench his hands into fists, as he so often did, you wanted to take them in yours and smooth the tension away ; when you'd be troubled, disheartened by the miscommunication between Vriska and you, his was the only ear you'd consider.
In short, at six and a half you were pale as pale could be for high-strung, fat-cheeked, nubby-horned Karkat Vantas.
In a fit of unlucky circumstances, nothing happened. A series of health problems conspired to keep you apart – your first manifestation of chromophagia, and what you later learned was his mutation acting up. You kicked Vriska to the curb, and he became Gamzee's moirail, dragging him through the worst of sopor slime withdrawal.
How could anyone not pity him for it?
Your friendship didn't grow weaker, but you drifted apart.
It was coincidence, or serendipity, that made Karkat apply for a job at the newspaper you're working at. You enjoy your night job well enough, though it's also the perfect cover for the Sylph's investigating the high circles of the twin city of Derse-Prospit. For Karkat, it is a calling.
“--AND YOUR ROLE AS SEFIRA WAS AS UNINSPIRED A RENDITION OF AN AUSPITICE AS TROLL CHARLES DUTTON'S DEPICTION OF MATESPRITSHIP. YOUR PERFORMANCE WAS AN UTTER DISGRACE TO THE VERY NOTION OF CONCILIATION, I'VE SEEN PEOPLE FALL ASLEEP DURING YOUR MEDIATING SCENES.”
The troll Karkat Vantas is addressing is an eight-foot tall star with horns like the antlers of a moose. You didn't see her latest movie, which was something of a flop according to the box office and an insult to everything that is ashen according to the incendiary review the magazine you work at published.
You didn't realize it was so bad Karkat would take the opportunity of a press conference to rip into the star's ego. You spend so much time at work trying to find excuses to work with Karkat, and then biting your lips to refrain from spouting that you're the Sylph, and reprimanding yourself for keeping secrets from him, you clearly didn't pay enough attention. You could've convinced him it was a bad idea. Maybe, if you'd agreed to watch the movie with him and listened to his ranting, he wouldn't have rushed into such a stupid situation.
“IF YOU DIDN'T GO AROUND CLAIMING IN ALL YOUR INTERVIEWS THAT YOU'RE HAPPILY QUADRANTED, I'D WONDER IF YOU'D EVER BEEN IN A CONCILIATORY RELATIONSHIP THAT DIDN'T INVOLVE YOUR LUSUS.”
A murmur runs through the crowd. The star's patience snaps at the same time as the reading desk she was clutching, and she hurls herself at Karkat with a roar, raising claws that could send his head flying like a ripe fruit torn from a tree.
From the rooftop where you're perched, you can see Karkat's mutinous pout shift, his eyes widen.
The actress' paw falls down toward Karkat's short shape
and
that's when
the Sylph of Space surges into action.
You pop into existence between them, throw your arms around Karkat, and snatch the both of you away.
It's not the first time he's in your arms, though it's very like it. At the time, too, like every other time since, you were saving him; you'll cherish the memory for a long time to come. He's shorter and stouter than you are, warmer – warmth that science and society and blood privilege say is too much, and that you think is just right.
He's shaking, shoulders shaking with adrenaline, and you want nothing more than to chase the fear away, forever.
Back on the rooftop, he makes a small sound, and backs away, but not before you felt him squeeze your shoulders back.
“That Was Stupid,” you say, severely.
He has the audacity to look affronted. “I HAD THINGS PERFECTLY UNDER CONTROL,” he argues, crossing his arms like he's envisaging bulldozing down the opposition on his own two feet.
“Is That What You'd Call Coming This Close To Becoming Street Flat Bread, Mr Vantas?”
He makes an impatient gesture. “FUCK THAT. I WAS NEVER IN ANY REAL DANGER.”
“I Apologize But I Don't See How Integrating The Bottom Of The Food Chain Would Serve The Purposes Of Your Quadrant Crusade.”
“I WAS COUNTING ON YOU TO GRAB ME BEFORE I WAS SPLATTER ON THE CONCRETE, OKAY? GEEZE.”
You count to three.
When you're done, you count to ten to steady your voice. “Are You Telling Me My Saving You Was Part Of The Plan All Along.”
You still don't sound as calm as you usually do. There are reasons why your voice would be trembling, you tell yourself. Reasons that have nothing to do with your bloodpusher pumping diamonds. For instance, you might be angry. Incensed that he was so reckless, so entitled, so sure that you'd save him, so – so trusting.
Yes, that's likely.
Under your gaze, Karkat's cheeks darken, and he glances away.
“WELL I WOULD HOPE THAT ON THE ONE TIME I'M FACTORING IN YOUR IRREPRESSIBLE NEED TO BUTT INTO MY REPORTING, YOU WOULDN'T GET FED UP WITH MY STUNTS AND LET ME DIE THE DEATH THAT MY PAST SELF SO RICHLY DESERVED.”
In front of him, in the face of – you don't know, it can't be a pale proposal, right, it can't possibly be – Karkat wouldn't make a pale offer to the Sylph, would he? Karkat finds something to pity about everyone, that's one of the reasons you're so sorry for him, that's why he's so furious all the time, and that's another thing you wish you could make easier for him, but surely even he can't find anything to pity in the solitary hero stalking Prospit and making it a safer place for her fellow troll?
He doesn't even know the Sylph's name. You know he's had a conciliatory problem in the past, you both have – wouldn't he let the lack of name be an obstacle to such an intimate relationship?
You're at a loss for words for a rare time in your life.
It's the sixth time you've rescued Karkat in as many perigees.
You would do the same for anyone else. Of course; that's what being a hero is about. But there's no-one you've saved six times, and there's no-one like Karkat. Karkat who is looking at you, quiet for once, biting off his cuticles.
He doesn't know you're the Sylph.
“Stop That,” you chide, tone gentle.
It's not quite an answer to his offer – not a definite yes, but in no way a no. Karkat notices, and glances quickly away, and back at you from beneath his eyelids, shying away for a moment from looking you straight on.
“I Will Always Save You,” you add in the silence.
Karkat looks more flustered than you've seen him since the first time he made you watch the finale to Troll Buffy's Season Six, even though you made a concerted effort to avoid Gamzee's name.
“OH. WELL. THAT'S. WELL, THAT'S THAT, THEN.”
The awkwardness is contagious. You didn't feel like what you were saying was so special, but now that you can see its effect on Karkat, you need to either get away from him or come clean. The urge to grab his hands and confess that you're his coworker and friend, Kanaya Maryam, is becoming stronger as Karkat's eyes are getting shinier.
“Yes I Should Get You Back Down There Now.”
“OH YES. AND YOU NEED TO GET GOING, AS WELL, DON'T YOU? CITIES TO PROTECT, TROLLS TO SAW IN HALF...”
“He Had It Coming,” you feel obligated to remind, though Karkat was there to witness first-hand how justified a put-down it was.
“ALL I'M SAYING IS, YOU SHOULD LET SOMEONE IN. SOMEONE WHO'D WATCH OUT FOR YOU.”
You arch an eyebrow, and put a hand on your hip. “What Makes You Think I Don't?”
“WHAT BULGEREEK OF A MOIRAIL WOULDN'T BE OUT HERE WITH YOU?”
His tone says it's obvious, and the wind whips in your hair, blowing Karkat's curls away and baring the expression of expectation on his face. There's no-one on the rooftop but you and the non-powered troll who keeps flinging himself in situations where the Sylph is involved.
“I... Yes, You're Right,” you finally say, and you turn away and pull up the hood of your outfit. “I Will Transport You Down Again.”
*
You never get a lot of sleep, but today you do even less than usual. Karkat's words keep echoing through your mind, and you toss and turn in your cocoon, trying to decide if you're in a moirallegiance with Karkat, or if the Sylph is, and cursing the need for a superhero to keep a secret identity.
Memories of your first encounter as the Sylph and Karkat Vantas echo in your mind, and you can barely believe so much happened since then.
(“I Understand Your Devotion To What You Believe In And In Other Circumstances I Find It Admirable But Not At The Cost Of Your Own Life.”
“YOU KNOW MY NAME.”
“Yes That Was Undoubtedly The Most Important Piece Of Information I Just Delivered.”
“I MEANT, YOU KNOW WHO I AM.”
“...You're One Of The Top Movie Critics In The Business. It's My Business To Know These Things And Keep An Eye On The Movers And Shakers Of Derse Prospit.”)
It doesn't seem to bother Karkat that you haven't told him who you are, or he wouldn't have proposed the Sylph, but what if it doesn't bother him because he has no idea the Sylph is Kanaya? What would he say if he learned one of his best friends is taking advantage of him, lying to him?
*
You put on careful make-up in the evening, but even so, when you arrive at work, Karkat peers at you and tuts. “FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYTHING THAT'S RIGHT AND RIGHTEOUS, KANAYA, YOU NEED TO FUCKING SLEEP.”
“I Don't Need Much Sleep,” you counter, which is nothing but the truth.
“YOU LOOK LIKE A CRAWLCORPSE. NOT ONE OF THE PRETTY ONES, EITHER,” he comments, before hauling you to his office and pushing you in the pile that's his official lounging spot to watch most of the movies he reviews, and the endless reruns that he's famous for commenting.
You tense; he doesn't notice.
“THERE. IT'S NOT IDEAL, I DON'T GIVE A FUCK, NOW GET SOME GODDAMN SLEEP.”
A... pile. It's not just pale, of course, you've known flushed couples that had piles and you've used them more than once in your ashen adventures, but it's heavily connoted. No one would miss that, specially not Karkat.
Blood beating in your ears with anticipation, you watch him.
Is it possible that he's worked out you're the Sylph and he's trying to tell you?
“FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET TERRORS, SOLLUX, OUT WITH IT. I DON'T HAVE ALL NIGHT AND YOU'RE THE SADDEST MESS I'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF CALLING A FRENEMY,” he's calling into the phone.
Guess he hasn't. Your eyelids weight a ton, and you have nothing but wistful tenderness for this sorry little troll. No secret message: just Karkat. Pale for the whole wide world.
He's chewing on the sides of his nails as he snaps back and forth in the swamp of Sollux's replies.
“Stop That,” you tell him, through closing eyes.
He snorts, and hides the phone with his hand. “SLEEP,” he orders, and shakes his head as he goes back to his conversation.
Re: FILL: TEAM PARCELPYXIS