Scale
Fandom: The Legend of Sun Knight
Summary: Sun has to climb a cliff.
Rating: T
Notes: Swearing
Written for the 'Scale' prompt for 100rare.
I really don't think Sun should be going on these missions... XDD;;
X____X Finished uploading the fics, yey. *goes back to sleep*
Genre: General/humour
Word count: 663
Status: Complete
Huffing, Sun hefted himself up another inch, his knuckles scraping against rock. Why wasn't there a nice, accessible path that anyone could take? Or was that the point? You prove yourself by climbing the cliff and if you reach the top, you're given what you were trying to find. If the bastard was still there and hadn't died of old age already. Maybe he'd died of starvation, Sun grumbled to himself, reaching up again; it wasn't like he'd be able to buy food from a shop and trying to grow anything at this altitude would be pretty damn hard.
Glancing around him, Sun saw a platform of rock that looked like it would be able to support his weight. He carefully edged his way towards it, his feet slipping a few times and a hand yanking a rock free from the cliff once. Eventually, after slowing his progress to a snail's, testing and retesting and retesting again to make sure the rock would stay in place, Sun made it to the relatively flat part and scuttled across it. It was just enough to sit on and that was it, but it at least meant he was no longer continually bracing his legs.
Another plus was it was a rather nice view to look at, if you ignored the drop that would kill you from fright alone before you hit the ground.
Sun could hear the faint hissing of the trees moving below him, but what was loudest to his ears was the wind. It kept attempting to tug his hair away from where he'd stuffed it down the back of his collar; trying to find a good spot to hold on to was hard enough when your hair wasn't blocking your view or stabbing you in the eyes.
He rested there for a little while (if you could call it that when you were pressing your back up against the cliff face and were keeping a firm grip on what you were sitting on), catching a bit of his breath and feeling himself cool down.
When Sun was nearly blown off his perch by a particularly strong gust of wind, he decided that he should probably get moving again.
Right. Sun looked left and right. How was he supposed to manoeuvre himself back into a climbing position without slipping off and plummeting to his death?
* * *
Groaning, Sun pulled himself up over the edge, his fingers digging into soft, dry soil. He lay there for a few seconds, feeling the cool ground under him, his limbs trembling from exertion, sweat trickling slowly down his skin. Once he felt able to move without collapsing again, Sun sat up.
And saw a dark, empty shack.
What? Getting to his feet, Sun tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The house (if you could call it that) had a wall that had caved in, and grass and flowers had marched their way in, leaving spots of green and yellow amongst the grey. The roof also had numerous holes in it, and as Sun watched, a pair of birds flew out of the thatching. The door was leaning like it was in a stupor against the door frame, the wood warped.
There was also a piece of paper flapping in the wind, speared on a bit of the wood that had broken off to a point. Sun was surprised that the paper hadn't been destroyed in the recent rain but he made his way over to it. Holding it down, leaving a dirty handprint on it, Sun started reading.
'Hi. Living here got a little too difficult. Moved to the bottom of the cliff. See you there.'
Jaw hanging open, Sun searched around the house and then inside it. Apart from a nest of newly-born chicks, he found nothing. No signs of recent living, no signs of a human, and no signs of a way down.
How was he supposed to get off this rock?
Summary: Sun has to climb a cliff.
Rating: T
Notes: Swearing
Written for the 'Scale' prompt for 100rare.
I really don't think Sun should be going on these missions... XDD;;
X____X Finished uploading the fics, yey. *goes back to sleep*
Genre: General/humour
Word count: 663
Status: Complete
Huffing, Sun hefted himself up another inch, his knuckles scraping against rock. Why wasn't there a nice, accessible path that anyone could take? Or was that the point? You prove yourself by climbing the cliff and if you reach the top, you're given what you were trying to find. If the bastard was still there and hadn't died of old age already. Maybe he'd died of starvation, Sun grumbled to himself, reaching up again; it wasn't like he'd be able to buy food from a shop and trying to grow anything at this altitude would be pretty damn hard.
Glancing around him, Sun saw a platform of rock that looked like it would be able to support his weight. He carefully edged his way towards it, his feet slipping a few times and a hand yanking a rock free from the cliff once. Eventually, after slowing his progress to a snail's, testing and retesting and retesting again to make sure the rock would stay in place, Sun made it to the relatively flat part and scuttled across it. It was just enough to sit on and that was it, but it at least meant he was no longer continually bracing his legs.
Another plus was it was a rather nice view to look at, if you ignored the drop that would kill you from fright alone before you hit the ground.
Sun could hear the faint hissing of the trees moving below him, but what was loudest to his ears was the wind. It kept attempting to tug his hair away from where he'd stuffed it down the back of his collar; trying to find a good spot to hold on to was hard enough when your hair wasn't blocking your view or stabbing you in the eyes.
He rested there for a little while (if you could call it that when you were pressing your back up against the cliff face and were keeping a firm grip on what you were sitting on), catching a bit of his breath and feeling himself cool down.
When Sun was nearly blown off his perch by a particularly strong gust of wind, he decided that he should probably get moving again.
Right. Sun looked left and right. How was he supposed to manoeuvre himself back into a climbing position without slipping off and plummeting to his death?
* * *
Groaning, Sun pulled himself up over the edge, his fingers digging into soft, dry soil. He lay there for a few seconds, feeling the cool ground under him, his limbs trembling from exertion, sweat trickling slowly down his skin. Once he felt able to move without collapsing again, Sun sat up.
And saw a dark, empty shack.
What? Getting to his feet, Sun tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The house (if you could call it that) had a wall that had caved in, and grass and flowers had marched their way in, leaving spots of green and yellow amongst the grey. The roof also had numerous holes in it, and as Sun watched, a pair of birds flew out of the thatching. The door was leaning like it was in a stupor against the door frame, the wood warped.
There was also a piece of paper flapping in the wind, speared on a bit of the wood that had broken off to a point. Sun was surprised that the paper hadn't been destroyed in the recent rain but he made his way over to it. Holding it down, leaving a dirty handprint on it, Sun started reading.
'Hi. Living here got a little too difficult. Moved to the bottom of the cliff. See you there.'
Jaw hanging open, Sun searched around the house and then inside it. Apart from a nest of newly-born chicks, he found nothing. No signs of recent living, no signs of a human, and no signs of a way down.
How was he supposed to get off this rock?