30 Word Challenge (#5-8)
Wednesday, July 30th, 2014 09:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mindcrackloveHullo again! I've got more prompts for you guys.
First, I just want to give a HUGE thank you to Sunsetmondays, my beta, who patiently read through this and made sure it looked good.
Also big thanks to Fireredlily, who gently nudged me in the direction of a few youtube videos to help with characterization. I hope I did it right!
5- Separation
It hurts him, sometimes, when he sees Guude doing things with other people. When he hears that high-pitched giggle from across the main area of spawn and sees the man himself doubled over, laughing at some antic or joke.
Really, it’s Bdubs’ own fault. He’d gotten too busy, been off doing other stuff, sometimes with GenerikB, sometimes on his own and he just never seemed to have the time or energy. He’d left Guude behind, even when the other reached out to him and asked to do something. It was always “I’m busy then” or “I’ve got other plans”.
Eventually Guude just stopped asking for him to come along on some adventure or another. Soon he stopped talking to BdoubleO more than was absolutely necessary. For a few weeks he’d wandered around the server, looked abstractly sad, like a kicked puppy. Others had tried cheering him up with little improvement in their Leader’s mood.
Then Pause had gotten fed up and dragged Guude off to do something that no one knew of. Days had passed before the two returned. They both came back beaten and bloody, but Guude was smiling hugely and his famous cackling giggle had rung out through spawn and it was like, for most of them, the world was at peace again.
But BdoubleO still hurt. It hurt that he wasn’t the one making Guude smile or laugh. It felt odd, sometimes, when he started to say something, some inside joke or another that only Guude could understand, before he remembered that his partner wasn’t Guude and wouldn't get the joke.
He sighed again, rolled his shoulders, and headed back to the building company.
6-Water
Vechs likes to watch the water. It never stops moving but it’s peaceful in ways he’s mystified by. It rushes sometimes, hither and thither; moves dirt, sand, and gravel and deposits them near banks then moves ever-onward towards the ocean or a cave.
Other times it trickles slowly over stone, makes only the quietest of burbling sounds as it moves, lazily meandering it’s way towards its destination. It hardly shifts the materials surrounding it and animals drink from it placidly. Sometimes he even sees squid.
Vechs has been distracted from a build more than once by its presence. He often lays on the banks and simply watches the water flow by, sometimes playfully dipping a hand in the water and laughing gleefully as the tinkling drops sparkle in the air when he flings them. He sits on the warm sand of the beaches other times and kicks his feet contentedly in the cool water, humming a little ditty as the time ticks away in his idle thoughts.
But to Vechs, one thing is always certain. He loves the water.
7- Pet
Anderz still hasn’t gotten used to the rain that happens so often on the server. When he’s mining it’s not so much of a problem, but more than one time his day of building or farming has been interrupted by a sudden down-pour.
He sighs heavily as he shoulders his axe. This wall will have to wait a while longer, it seems. He shifts inside his armor, annoyed that he’s already soaked and his armor is damp on the inside and starts for the little cottage he’s made for himself in the meantime.
He’s almost clear of the tree line when he hears it.
It’s quiet, almost inaudible over the rain, but he picks it up easily enough. Whimpering. Belting his axe he stops and listens again. It’s not a human whimpering, the pitch is all wrong for that, but whatever it is, it’s small. He carefully peeks around several tree stumps before he sees it.
Tucked against the base of a spruce tree is a wolf pup. It’s tiny, young, and still needing its mother no doubt. Its fur is darker than he’s used to seeing in wolves and what he can see of its eyes are brilliant blue. One front paw is twisted sharply and there are cuts on it’s back, shallow and no longer bleeding but still in need of care.
The pup’s mother is no where to be found.
A quick search of the area reveals the body of an almost identical wolf only four trees away. Her neck is twisted, along with burn marks that cover her pelt. Anderz knows this is the work of a creeper explosion. She must have been trying to protect her pup from the leafy menace. That would explain the unprovoked explosion he had heard not an hour ago.
Sighing, he quickly buries the mother and returns to the pup, glancing down at him with quiet contemplation. The merciful thing may be to put the pup out of its misery. Even with help, it’s paw is not likely to heal in the proper manner to be useable again and the marks will leave a scar, depriving it of some of its warm, protective pelt.
He’ll never be able to fight or to survive, on his own.
However, the sight of the little pup sent a pang through him. How could he kill something that could fit in the very palms of his hands? He sighed and stooped over, scooping the tiny thing up and turned towards spawn instead of home. Maybe Jsano would know what to do.
Jsano was not pleased to be dragged from his warm bed, it having long since fallen dark while Anderz trekked back, but his face softened when he saw what Anderz had brought with him. He ushered them inside and gently took the pup from his arms before setting to work.
Some time later and Anderz was going home with the pup, a male he’d named Olly, a blanket, some potions, and other supplies. Jsano had warned him that Olly would never be a fighting wolf. His paw, as Anderz thought, would never heal fully, though there was a chance his pelt would grow in over the scars.
Olly may not be able to be a fighting dog but that doesn’t make him any less useful, or enjoyable to have around. Jsano says he has a good temperament for a wolf pup, solid and steady, and if Anderz teaches him with a firm but gentle hand, he’ll have an excellent companion and guard on his hands- someone who can rouse him from his sleep to warn him of approaching mobs or simply curl up in his lap and make him feel better after a long day of work.
Hugging the little Olly closer, he heads for home, determined to give the pup a new leash on life.
A Few Months Later
Anderz watches fondly from his place on the bank of the river near his home as Olly barks and springs around, chasing a butterfly. He’s grown up well, his little Olly. He’s no smaller nor any slower than any of his wild brethren and his lame paw only gives him much trouble in the coldest of snows or the longest of storms.
Anderz is more than glad for his company as well. They’ve kept each other warm through some cold nights. All in all, he’s glad he stopped and brought home Olly all those months ago.
He’d have lost a wonderful pet otherwise.
8- Warmth
Pak is sitting in the living room of the townhouse he shares with his roommates, browsing the internet on his laptop, when he hears the door open. A quick glance at his watch reveals that it’s too early for it be Arkas who would have just started his last class of the day. That means it’s Blame.
“Hey Blame! I’ve ordered- Oh my god Blame! What happened?” he shouts. Blame is standing in the door, looking miserable. He’s soaked through and frost has begun to form on his jacket from where the freezing temperatures outside started to chill the water. He’s shivering and his teeth chatter together loudly.
“S-stupid car sprayed slush on me at the c-corner s-stop.” He trails off into breathy little whimpers here. Pak moves from his spot quickly. Even though walking from the corner stop to their house, even while soaked, shouldn’t be enough to endanger him with hypothermia, the cold and clingy wetness is enough to cause him distress. He starts to pull off Blame’s coat and scarf, tossing them aside. He remembers his first aid classes well enough to know what his first mission should be: to get Blame out of his wet clothes.
It’s obvious Blame wants to protest but he’s dissolved into shivers and can’t form the words or wave him off, so he subsides. Finally successful with the outer layers, he shepherds Blame into the laundry room. The laundry room is only a few degrees warmer than the other rooms and there’s no humidity here to make the dampness worse. “Strip,” he orders in a no-nonsense voice even though in any other circumstances he would at least blush or stutter.
Blame takes care of that, though, and Pak has to fight a smile at how adorable his friend is before pushing those thoughts down. “We need to get you out of those clothes. They’re making it worse.” Blame continues to blush but starts peeling off the soaked clothes anyway and Pak turns towards the dryer which had buzzed only moments before Blame came in. Inside are odds and ends: some boxers, an old flannel, a few hoodies, and towels. But what Pak is happy about is that they’re warm.
He pulls out two towels and tosses one to Blame. He’ll let Blame dry his lower half off. The other does as instructed, rubbing vigorously and then sliding into a pair of boxers that Pak throws him. Pak then marches behind him and drapes the other towel over Blame’s head and starts drying quickly. Blame, still chattering a bit too hard to speak, makes a few sounds of protest and even flaps feebly at Pak but Pak simply chuckles and finishes. He wraps Blame in the old flannel and smiles softly when Blame makes a quiet sound in his chest and practically melts into the fabric.
“Right, to your room. You need to be warm as possible.” Blame willing wanders off to his room and Pak grabs out one of the hoodies -an old black one with a skull on it - before he follows him. He manages to wrest Blame out of the flannel long enough to shove him into the hoodie and a pair of pajama pants. He then wraps him back up in the flannel and tucks him under the blankets of Blame’s bed.
Blame sighs and burrows deeply into the fabric of the blankets. Pak is relieved to see that his shivering has subsided quite a bit. Content that he’s well enough for the moment, Pak makes his way to the kitchen and puts a small saucepan on the burner before splashing in some milk and water and turning it on. He empties a packet of hot chocolate mix into a mug along with a bit of cinnamon, scribbles a note to Arkas, and then pours the hot mixture in before stirring.
He grabs the mug, reminding himself to clean the kitchen when Blame is finally settled, and makes his way back up to Blame’s room. The other man is looking drowsy but he perks up when he see’s Pak again. He makes grabby hands for the mug and this time Pak can’t hold in the laugh or smile. Despite Blame looking a bit disgruntled at Pak laughing at him, he takes the mug with a happy sigh. Pak makes the best hot chocolate.
Pak sits on the edge of the bed and makes sure he doesn’t spill, his hands are still shaking after all, and then takes the mug and places it aside when he’s done. Blame sighs and settles into the bed, breathing rapidly slowing and evening out. Pak goes to stand, but can’t.
Blame whines in his sleep, already deep in dreamland, and clenches his hand even tighter where he’s latched onto Pak’s shirt. Pak doesn't’ have the heart to pry his hand off - not when Blame is finally asleep and he looks so peaceful - so instead, he sighs and grabs one of the spare blankets from the end of the bed and settles in, sitting against the headboard.
He’s asleep between one breath and the next.
Later That Evening
Arkas comes home to a quiet house. Which is odd. By now he’s used to coming home to Pak and Blame playing games in the living room, or reading, or talking distractedly as they browse the internet. He’s not used to silence. He toes off his shoes and hangs up his coat when he see’s the stuff lying on the ground. Huh. That’s Blame’s stuff, and it’s soaking wet.
He huffs and makes his way through the house, bypassing the kitchen and other parts of the house as he tries to find his roommates. His first stop is obviously Blame’s room. He pushes the door open quietly and peeks inside before smiling softly and snorting.
Pak and Blame are curled up together in Blame’s bed. Silly, honorable Pak is above the covers, using his own blanket but that doesn’t seem to deter Blame any, who is attached to the other man like a limpet, not intent on letting go anytime soon.
As if to prove a point, Pak turns and moves away a little in his sleep and Blame whimpers before following him, falling still again in contentment when he’s pressed firmly against the other man again. Arkas smiles fondly, and closes the door before heading back downstairs.
Now if only he could convince those two to just kiss already!
First, I just want to give a HUGE thank you to Sunsetmondays, my beta, who patiently read through this and made sure it looked good.
Also big thanks to Fireredlily, who gently nudged me in the direction of a few youtube videos to help with characterization. I hope I did it right!
5- Separation
It hurts him, sometimes, when he sees Guude doing things with other people. When he hears that high-pitched giggle from across the main area of spawn and sees the man himself doubled over, laughing at some antic or joke.
Really, it’s Bdubs’ own fault. He’d gotten too busy, been off doing other stuff, sometimes with GenerikB, sometimes on his own and he just never seemed to have the time or energy. He’d left Guude behind, even when the other reached out to him and asked to do something. It was always “I’m busy then” or “I’ve got other plans”.
Eventually Guude just stopped asking for him to come along on some adventure or another. Soon he stopped talking to BdoubleO more than was absolutely necessary. For a few weeks he’d wandered around the server, looked abstractly sad, like a kicked puppy. Others had tried cheering him up with little improvement in their Leader’s mood.
Then Pause had gotten fed up and dragged Guude off to do something that no one knew of. Days had passed before the two returned. They both came back beaten and bloody, but Guude was smiling hugely and his famous cackling giggle had rung out through spawn and it was like, for most of them, the world was at peace again.
But BdoubleO still hurt. It hurt that he wasn’t the one making Guude smile or laugh. It felt odd, sometimes, when he started to say something, some inside joke or another that only Guude could understand, before he remembered that his partner wasn’t Guude and wouldn't get the joke.
He sighed again, rolled his shoulders, and headed back to the building company.
6-Water
Vechs likes to watch the water. It never stops moving but it’s peaceful in ways he’s mystified by. It rushes sometimes, hither and thither; moves dirt, sand, and gravel and deposits them near banks then moves ever-onward towards the ocean or a cave.
Other times it trickles slowly over stone, makes only the quietest of burbling sounds as it moves, lazily meandering it’s way towards its destination. It hardly shifts the materials surrounding it and animals drink from it placidly. Sometimes he even sees squid.
Vechs has been distracted from a build more than once by its presence. He often lays on the banks and simply watches the water flow by, sometimes playfully dipping a hand in the water and laughing gleefully as the tinkling drops sparkle in the air when he flings them. He sits on the warm sand of the beaches other times and kicks his feet contentedly in the cool water, humming a little ditty as the time ticks away in his idle thoughts.
But to Vechs, one thing is always certain. He loves the water.
7- Pet
Anderz still hasn’t gotten used to the rain that happens so often on the server. When he’s mining it’s not so much of a problem, but more than one time his day of building or farming has been interrupted by a sudden down-pour.
He sighs heavily as he shoulders his axe. This wall will have to wait a while longer, it seems. He shifts inside his armor, annoyed that he’s already soaked and his armor is damp on the inside and starts for the little cottage he’s made for himself in the meantime.
He’s almost clear of the tree line when he hears it.
It’s quiet, almost inaudible over the rain, but he picks it up easily enough. Whimpering. Belting his axe he stops and listens again. It’s not a human whimpering, the pitch is all wrong for that, but whatever it is, it’s small. He carefully peeks around several tree stumps before he sees it.
Tucked against the base of a spruce tree is a wolf pup. It’s tiny, young, and still needing its mother no doubt. Its fur is darker than he’s used to seeing in wolves and what he can see of its eyes are brilliant blue. One front paw is twisted sharply and there are cuts on it’s back, shallow and no longer bleeding but still in need of care.
The pup’s mother is no where to be found.
A quick search of the area reveals the body of an almost identical wolf only four trees away. Her neck is twisted, along with burn marks that cover her pelt. Anderz knows this is the work of a creeper explosion. She must have been trying to protect her pup from the leafy menace. That would explain the unprovoked explosion he had heard not an hour ago.
Sighing, he quickly buries the mother and returns to the pup, glancing down at him with quiet contemplation. The merciful thing may be to put the pup out of its misery. Even with help, it’s paw is not likely to heal in the proper manner to be useable again and the marks will leave a scar, depriving it of some of its warm, protective pelt.
He’ll never be able to fight or to survive, on his own.
However, the sight of the little pup sent a pang through him. How could he kill something that could fit in the very palms of his hands? He sighed and stooped over, scooping the tiny thing up and turned towards spawn instead of home. Maybe Jsano would know what to do.
Jsano was not pleased to be dragged from his warm bed, it having long since fallen dark while Anderz trekked back, but his face softened when he saw what Anderz had brought with him. He ushered them inside and gently took the pup from his arms before setting to work.
Some time later and Anderz was going home with the pup, a male he’d named Olly, a blanket, some potions, and other supplies. Jsano had warned him that Olly would never be a fighting wolf. His paw, as Anderz thought, would never heal fully, though there was a chance his pelt would grow in over the scars.
Olly may not be able to be a fighting dog but that doesn’t make him any less useful, or enjoyable to have around. Jsano says he has a good temperament for a wolf pup, solid and steady, and if Anderz teaches him with a firm but gentle hand, he’ll have an excellent companion and guard on his hands- someone who can rouse him from his sleep to warn him of approaching mobs or simply curl up in his lap and make him feel better after a long day of work.
Hugging the little Olly closer, he heads for home, determined to give the pup a new leash on life.
A Few Months Later
Anderz watches fondly from his place on the bank of the river near his home as Olly barks and springs around, chasing a butterfly. He’s grown up well, his little Olly. He’s no smaller nor any slower than any of his wild brethren and his lame paw only gives him much trouble in the coldest of snows or the longest of storms.
Anderz is more than glad for his company as well. They’ve kept each other warm through some cold nights. All in all, he’s glad he stopped and brought home Olly all those months ago.
He’d have lost a wonderful pet otherwise.
8- Warmth
Pak is sitting in the living room of the townhouse he shares with his roommates, browsing the internet on his laptop, when he hears the door open. A quick glance at his watch reveals that it’s too early for it be Arkas who would have just started his last class of the day. That means it’s Blame.
“Hey Blame! I’ve ordered- Oh my god Blame! What happened?” he shouts. Blame is standing in the door, looking miserable. He’s soaked through and frost has begun to form on his jacket from where the freezing temperatures outside started to chill the water. He’s shivering and his teeth chatter together loudly.
“S-stupid car sprayed slush on me at the c-corner s-stop.” He trails off into breathy little whimpers here. Pak moves from his spot quickly. Even though walking from the corner stop to their house, even while soaked, shouldn’t be enough to endanger him with hypothermia, the cold and clingy wetness is enough to cause him distress. He starts to pull off Blame’s coat and scarf, tossing them aside. He remembers his first aid classes well enough to know what his first mission should be: to get Blame out of his wet clothes.
It’s obvious Blame wants to protest but he’s dissolved into shivers and can’t form the words or wave him off, so he subsides. Finally successful with the outer layers, he shepherds Blame into the laundry room. The laundry room is only a few degrees warmer than the other rooms and there’s no humidity here to make the dampness worse. “Strip,” he orders in a no-nonsense voice even though in any other circumstances he would at least blush or stutter.
Blame takes care of that, though, and Pak has to fight a smile at how adorable his friend is before pushing those thoughts down. “We need to get you out of those clothes. They’re making it worse.” Blame continues to blush but starts peeling off the soaked clothes anyway and Pak turns towards the dryer which had buzzed only moments before Blame came in. Inside are odds and ends: some boxers, an old flannel, a few hoodies, and towels. But what Pak is happy about is that they’re warm.
He pulls out two towels and tosses one to Blame. He’ll let Blame dry his lower half off. The other does as instructed, rubbing vigorously and then sliding into a pair of boxers that Pak throws him. Pak then marches behind him and drapes the other towel over Blame’s head and starts drying quickly. Blame, still chattering a bit too hard to speak, makes a few sounds of protest and even flaps feebly at Pak but Pak simply chuckles and finishes. He wraps Blame in the old flannel and smiles softly when Blame makes a quiet sound in his chest and practically melts into the fabric.
“Right, to your room. You need to be warm as possible.” Blame willing wanders off to his room and Pak grabs out one of the hoodies -an old black one with a skull on it - before he follows him. He manages to wrest Blame out of the flannel long enough to shove him into the hoodie and a pair of pajama pants. He then wraps him back up in the flannel and tucks him under the blankets of Blame’s bed.
Blame sighs and burrows deeply into the fabric of the blankets. Pak is relieved to see that his shivering has subsided quite a bit. Content that he’s well enough for the moment, Pak makes his way to the kitchen and puts a small saucepan on the burner before splashing in some milk and water and turning it on. He empties a packet of hot chocolate mix into a mug along with a bit of cinnamon, scribbles a note to Arkas, and then pours the hot mixture in before stirring.
He grabs the mug, reminding himself to clean the kitchen when Blame is finally settled, and makes his way back up to Blame’s room. The other man is looking drowsy but he perks up when he see’s Pak again. He makes grabby hands for the mug and this time Pak can’t hold in the laugh or smile. Despite Blame looking a bit disgruntled at Pak laughing at him, he takes the mug with a happy sigh. Pak makes the best hot chocolate.
Pak sits on the edge of the bed and makes sure he doesn’t spill, his hands are still shaking after all, and then takes the mug and places it aside when he’s done. Blame sighs and settles into the bed, breathing rapidly slowing and evening out. Pak goes to stand, but can’t.
Blame whines in his sleep, already deep in dreamland, and clenches his hand even tighter where he’s latched onto Pak’s shirt. Pak doesn't’ have the heart to pry his hand off - not when Blame is finally asleep and he looks so peaceful - so instead, he sighs and grabs one of the spare blankets from the end of the bed and settles in, sitting against the headboard.
He’s asleep between one breath and the next.
Later That Evening
Arkas comes home to a quiet house. Which is odd. By now he’s used to coming home to Pak and Blame playing games in the living room, or reading, or talking distractedly as they browse the internet. He’s not used to silence. He toes off his shoes and hangs up his coat when he see’s the stuff lying on the ground. Huh. That’s Blame’s stuff, and it’s soaking wet.
He huffs and makes his way through the house, bypassing the kitchen and other parts of the house as he tries to find his roommates. His first stop is obviously Blame’s room. He pushes the door open quietly and peeks inside before smiling softly and snorting.
Pak and Blame are curled up together in Blame’s bed. Silly, honorable Pak is above the covers, using his own blanket but that doesn’t seem to deter Blame any, who is attached to the other man like a limpet, not intent on letting go anytime soon.
As if to prove a point, Pak turns and moves away a little in his sleep and Blame whimpers before following him, falling still again in contentment when he’s pressed firmly against the other man again. Arkas smiles fondly, and closes the door before heading back downstairs.
Now if only he could convince those two to just kiss already!
no subject
Date: Wednesday, July 30th, 2014 02:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Wednesday, July 30th, 2014 06:08 pm (UTC)plus paktc is always a plus with me hehe! and i like the idea of pak/arkas/btc being roommates. unlikely friends getting together and living with each other is cute to me
no subject
Date: Wednesday, July 30th, 2014 11:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, July 31st, 2014 01:32 am (UTC)Awesome fics! Especially liked the last two.
no subject
Date: Thursday, July 31st, 2014 01:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, July 31st, 2014 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, July 31st, 2014 04:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Thursday, July 31st, 2014 05:45 pm (UTC)