hs_olympics | BONUS ROUND 5

Bonus Round 5

Tales from the Road

Hey, shippers! HSO is winding down, so we thought we'd take a look back at the journey, so to speak. With that in mind, this next bonus round is going to be roadtrip-themed! Give us a little taste of your characters' life on the road, whatever form that takes.

Rules

Submit prompts! Prompts should consist of one ship (friendship/gen is fine too!) and a location. This cannot be your team's ship! This round we will not be giving points for prompts.

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 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 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!

Bonus Round 5 is now closed!

16/08/12 Comments are unscreened again, for the sake of comments on fills. No new fills are being counted for points.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Settle down, cowboy."

Leathered hands grip your hips and you buck and howl obscenities at the offender. There's not much you can do, though, because most of you is pinned under what must be thirty thousand pounds of mail bags. Your failure is rather fortunate for you, because it seems those hands are trying to get you out from those thirty thousand pounds of correspondence, despite your flailing.

"Fmurfmannh! Ahmmnhamnanm!"

"Yeah, I completely understand. How about next time you book a train to Kansas City, you try not to get in the way of a mail heist."

He shoves his foot against the mail bag and gives one almighty tug and you both go sprawling free.

"Oof," he says and doesn't release you fast enough.

You are on him like a rat terrier.

"Ruffian! Scoundrel! Unhand me and pay for your crimes against the free post and the spirit of the frontier!"

You knock him back into the floorboards and get one leg up over his hip--and it's good you do because he can't get to the gun pressing into your thigh--and get ready to show him the wild courage of a budding frontiersman!

You will show him with your fists because you are a real pioneer realizing your Manifest Destiny and not an overeager doctor's son from Pennsylvania on your first trip West.

"Have at, you--bandit!"

You attempt to let him have it, but he curses and catches your fist, grabs the hand that you're pinning him down with. You may not have thought this through.

You realize you knocked his hat off. He's young, and fixes you with an exasperated expression.

"First time, huh."

"...Perhaps. I don't see that I have to answer the likes of you."

"'The likes of you.' Who even says that? That ain't a thing to say, even for you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He lifts an eyebrow. You realize that he is both devilishly handsome and still holding your hand.

"Well, I don't know, Sheriff. What are you? A quack?"

You flush. "I'll have you know I'm going to be a completely respectable ranch hand, and explore the untamed lands of the plains, and fight Injuns and run tabs in saloons!"

"You're going to run tabs in saloons."

You deflate a little under his regard. "Well. Yes. That's part of the experience, isn't it?"

He stares at you a good, long, uninterrupted time, and you catch yourself staring at the wry quirk of his lips. His features are rather fine--too angular to be feminine, and a little long besides, but he's clearly the kind of attractive rogue you'd like to kiss.

To be! Not to kiss. Jacob Harley, where did that thought even come from?

He flicks you in the forehead and you realize you've let him go. As you sputter, he gets up and rests his arms on his knees.

"You know, a good-looking gentleman who runs into a mail car, unarmed, yelling his head off about the American way and the spirit of the West may not be best suited to a life of cleaning up horse shit. You don't get as much travel done as you'd think."

You have no idea what to say to that. He holds out his hand.

"Dirk Strider. You ever consider robbery?"