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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 ERIDAN<3KARKAT
Medieval Fantasy, Road Trip
FILL: TEAM DAVE<3TEREZI
It Is Midday
It is five in the morning, which, by royal decree, should be deemed “No Reasonable Hour For A Prince To Even Consider Being Awake”. Prince Ampora of the Kingdom of Derse is one such Prince who would sooner sit in a carriage that’s fallen off-road into a ditch and make sweet love to the Court Mage than even consider being awake at five in the morning.
However, it is in fact five in the morning, and sooner or later Prince Ampora will realise that he is not in fact in a ditch making sweet love to the Court Mage, but lying in his four-poster five-mattress bed being shaken awake by his manservant, who is by this point rather infuriated by his master’s inability to rouse himself from this seemingly-enchanted slumber.
Stopping short of saying “Kindly get the fuck up, Master Ampora”, the faceless manservant resorts to muffling his mouth with a cloth to disguise his voice and shouting “FIRE IN THE WALK-IN WARDROBE!” That got the Prince sitting bolt upright.
“WHAT,” he yelps, usually-impeccable hair in disarray.
“Ah good, Sir, you’re awake.” The manservant smiles serenely. “You are aware you’ll have to extricate yourself from bed for your trip to Prospit today?”
“How could I forget,” the Prince deadpans, throwing off his sheets so that they land atop the manservant’s head.
---
It is six in the morning, and the Right Honourable Prince Eridan Ampora of the Kingdom of Derse, PhD, is not at all happy to be awake. After a suitably royal breakfast and a thorough debriefing from his father the King, he is standing in the cold outside the extravagant royal palace waiting for the Knight from Prospit who will be escorting himself and the Court Mage to Prospit, where he is to be betrothed to the Princess or something.
The details are all a bit hazy.
But to make this whole excursion worthwhile, naturally the Prince’s self-proclaimed Arch Rival In Everything But Especially The Act Of Living Itself is to be his other escort, along with the Prospitian Knight. This is Sollux Captor, the Court Mage, who is roughly the same age as the Prince and was once deemed to be a suitable childhood companion to his royal self.
What a joke that had turned out to be.
After the two boys did nothing but fight, Eridan’s supernanny had revoked young Captor’s Princely Companion License, and he had been replaced by the heir to the Zahhak fortune, a young boy named Equius with an unhealthy fondness (possibly fuelled by nominative predetermination) for our equine companions. In that sense, Eridan was glad that it was Captor rather than Zahhak joining him on the journey. At least Captor wouldn’t spend the entire trip salivating over the winged hoofbeasts that were to be guiding the carriage.
At last the carriage pulls up with a surly-looking Knight at the reins, and Captor emerges from the shadows in a rather mage-like ominous manner.
Eridan wants to slap him.
---
It is seven in the morning, and of course Captor and the Knight Karkat Vantas are getting on like a small village full of innocents on fire. Of course.
Prince Eridan is sitting with his arms crossed, staring out the window at the blur of the countryside as the carriage speeds past small villages full of innocents that he is rather inclined to want to burn to the ground at this very moment. Curse the restrictive legal system.
The insufferable Mage slips back into the carriage from his position up front with Vantas and sticks his legs up on the seat, leaning back like he has not a care in the world, the conceited arse. “How’re you coping back here, Prince?” he asks cheerfully, and fuck, he still has that dumb lisp that he’s always had.
It would not be so annoying if Prince Eridan did not find it so incredibly sexy.
“I’m coping fantastically, thank you,” Eridan snaps back, straightening up and uncrossing his arms.
“Looking forward to meeting Marquise Serket?”
Oh, yes, that was the name of the broad he’s meant to be marrying. “She should be looking forward to meeting me,” he said gruffly, straightening his spectacles.
“Right,” Captor says.
“Do I detect a hint of cynicism in your voice, peasant?”
“None at all, Your Highness.”
---
It is eight in the morning and Knight Vantas has insisted that they make a stopover in a small town populated almost entirely by salamanders, because the horses are tired. It is only when he steps gracefully down from the carriage that Eridan realises just how short the Knight is. He comes up no higher than Eridan’s shoulder.
He also swears like a common troubadour.
“Is there no fucking way we can get some fucking food in this shitheap of a town? Is it that much of a stagnant hole in the dirt? Fuck, we’re in fucking bilgewater scum county. It reeks of horseshit. Fuck. I can’t stay here much longer.”
“It was your idea to take a break,” Captor points out.
“I know it was my idea, but past me is a fucking idiot,” Vantas screeches, this close to tearing out his hair.
“Both of you need to calm yourselves,” Eridan interjected. “I realise that neither of you are of the same noble temperament as I, but if we are to retain our good spirits—”
“Kindly shut the fuck up, Your Highness,” Captor interjects. “I don’t need two noble pricks in foul moods to lighten my spirits.”
Eridan has never been more aroused in his life.
---
It is nine in the morning and the lone carriage in the Borderlands is making good time. If they’re lucky, they’ll make Prospit’s capital by ten and Eridan can get the dumb meeting with the dumb girl he’s meant to be marrying over and done with and then everyone can go home and shut the fuck up.
Naturally Vantas is still whining to Captor. Eridan tries to block out the noise by drumming his feet on the floor of the carriage, but all it’s doing is making him dizzy.
Vantas is on the verge of his five millionth “and another thing...” when there is a great shudder as the carriage hits an obstacle in the road. In the space of a few seconds Vantas loses control of the horses and they break apart from the carriage, rushing off of their own accord. The carriage upends and spins sideways into a ditch by the side of the road.
Fucking brilliant, Eridan thinks to himself as he is squashed against the wall of the carriage in a position that not even the greatest court contortionists could ever manage. He can hear Captor and Vantas arguing outside.
“Christ, Vantas, just let me come with you to find the horses! His Royal Dickprince can take care of himself!”
“What part of the King will have you flogged for leaving him and the carriage unguarded do you not understand, fuckmunch? Fuck, he’ll have me flogged too! Just do me a fucking favour; stay here and look after that shit-for-brains, else he’ll accidentally get himself killed left all on his lonesome.”
A few more harsh words are exchanged before Eridan hears the sound of Vantas’s heavy boots moving off into the distance, and the door at the other side of the carriage, directly above him, opens up. In something of a role reversal, Captor looks down on him scornfully.
“Looks like I’m stuck with you, Your Highness.”
---
It is ten in the morning and “I Spy” is starting to get boring. Eridan has refused to attempt to leave the carriage, preferring to wait until Vantas returns with the winged horses to lift them out of the ditch. Captor is starting to worry – he’s almost been gone an hour.
“I spy with my royal eye, something beginning wiiiiiith... C.”
“I swear in the name of all that is holy, Erida— Prince Ampora, if this is ‘carriage’ again I will personally see to your removal from the face of this planet.”
“Yeah well, you’re the Court Mage, why couldn’t you just remove this carriage from the face of this ditch?”
“If I have to tell you aga— my powers don’t work like that! Your fucking Highness!”
Eridan pouted, flicking the floor of the carriage, which was now oriented more like a wall. “I’m bored. Can you use your powers to tell me when Vantas will return?”
“Fucking no, stop fucking asking!”
Eridan is suddenly acutely aware of how cramped this sideways carriage is, and how attractive Captor is when he’s angry.
“Well then, I don’t suppose you can think of any other way to pass the time than ‘I Spy’?” he asks.
They spend a few minutes just staring at each other in silence before they can mutually agree on a much more productive way of waiting.
---
It is eleven in the morning and after Karkat Vantas has unsuccessfully tried to tear out his own eyes for the unspeakable horrors witnessed in the carriage, they are finally on the move and headed for Prospit once more.
The tension in the carriage is such that you could cut it with a knife. Sollux Captor and Prince Eridan Ampora are sitting on absolute opposite ends of the compartment and looking absolutely everywhere but at one another.
Eridan is hoping that he’s suitably rearranged his hair for his meeting with Marquise Serket. Although, there’s a part of him that doesn’t want her to be interested in him. Not after... that. He doesn’t think he could ever be interested in another. His eyes have been opened. No longer will he be yelling at his heinously insubordinate Court Mage for a myriad misdemeanours.
Sollux is wondering what the hell just happened and why the hell he got so much enjoyment from it.
---
It is midday and Prince Eridan Ampora is standing flanked by his Mage and Knight, facing Marquise Vriska Serket, who has a metal arm that looks like it could rip his bollocks off if she so desired.
“Well,” she says, surveying him, unsure whether or not she likes what she sees, “a match between us would certainly be advantageous to our two nations. As you surely know, I’m a pretty major player in Prospitian politics.”
“I had no idea,” Eridan says vaguely.
“You flatter me,” she says, making it sound like a threat.
They are soon left alone to “get to know one another”. Eridan decides he rather likes her – she’s a bitch, that’s for sure, and he can appreciate that. After all, he’s been informed by numerous people on numerous occasions that he, too, is a bitch.
But he can’t marry her.
Not after... that.
As he contemplates his inevitable future, he decides he would much sooner sit in a carriage that’s fallen off-road into a ditch and make sweet love to the Court Mage than even consider marrying this upstanding member of the Prospitian community. He makes a mental note to ask Vantas not to take them back to Derse that evening.
Re: FILL: TEAM DAVE<3TEREZI
Re: FILL: TEAM DAVE<3TEREZI