more bootcamp scribbling
I think I'm getting addicted to five-minute prompts. My right hand is not at all pleased.
Same lineup as last time, under the cut.
1. 100 word limit [Ouran High School Host Club]
Monopoly
It was a forgone conclusion that Kyouya would dominate the game, but nobody would've expected Haruhi to run him such a close second.
Tamaki mortgaged himself to the hilt to buy the railroads (he'd always loved trains), but the chance cards kept him in the game.
Mori bought Water Works, but traded with Hunny for Baltic Ave., so he could cover it in tiny green houses. The twins wouldn't charge each other rent.
Kyouya landed in jail, and Haruhi offered the Get Out card for Park Place. Too steep, said Kyouya.
You're not getting Boardwalk, Senpai, she replied.
**
2. 100 word limit [Prince of Tennis]
Heart
The ball tumbles out of the sun and Fuji leaps for it, spinning it back across the net; a missive, a message, an answer to the question Niyou doesn't realize he's asked. The boy may wear Tezuka's eyes, Tezuka's limbs, and the breathtaking grace of Tezuka's technique, but Fuji can feel where the likeness ends.
Niyou is only parroting phrases in a language he doesn't understand; failing to grasp that the true mastery of Tezuka's play is a neverending prayer to the very heart of tennis.
Fuji closes his eyes and empties his mind, and takes up Tezuka's prayer himself.
**
3. 5 minutes, image prompt [Fullmetal Alchemist]:
Tintype
Roy dreams he owns a snapshot of Fullmetal, keeps it tucked in the top drawer of his bureau at home. It's an old tintype, blurry and strangely exposed. Ed is picking his way through high reeds at the edge of a pond, near Roy's old childhood home. Blond hair a pale smear, his face barely visible, looking down at his feet.
He wears a white shirt and white trousers; the shirt is short-sleeved, pristine, and his tanned right bicep looks dark in contrast.
Behind him, the water ripples off toward the fog, stretching the length of the opposite bank.
**
4. 5 minutes, word prompt [Ouran/Blackbirdverse (missing scene)]
decide
Morinozuka Higate kneels before his grandfather's altar, and knows that history has backed him into a corner. He always felt no good would come of his son's resemblance to his ancestor, and after all these years his suspicions have proven true. He knows he cannot fault the boy's argument without meddling with his own values--Takashi's loyalty is every bit as stalwart as his own, his determination every bit as fixed and in the end, his son is nothing more nor less than what he was raised to be.
If there is one thing he knows he cannot do, it is divide this family.
**
5. 5 minutes, word prompt [Ouran Host Club]
refraction
The angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection. This is a law of light.
Ootori Kyouya is fitted for glasses when he's ten years old. His eldest brother wears contacts, and the next younger has perfect uncorrected vision.
Everything Kyouya's father has taught him comes down to one fundamental thing: he is separate from his peers. He is an exception to the normal standard. He will always be apart from them.
He learns that if he stands aside of a light source, with no other body to block him, he can observe the world at will, and no one can know where he's looking. He learns if he tilts his head to a certain indirect angle, the light bounces off, revealing nothing beneath the surface.
**
6. 10 minutes, lyric prompt [Fullmetal Alchemist]
There's always a party on funeral row... (Tom McRae, "Sao Paulo Rain")
Coffin
Lieutenant Hawkeye must have driven him home; Roy doesn't entirely recall. All he knows is that when he steps out several hours later, for no reason at all, the car is still there.
Havoc steps out and opens the door for him, and Roy climbs in because it doesn't seem there's anything else to do; he's on autopilot, has been ever since the funeral started, and even now all he really sees is a carved slab of stone where all his normal thoughts and functions ought to be.
They end up somewhere grimy and orange-lit, on a filthy back street between grey brick buildings, and the air reeks of cigarette smoke, and cheap liquor. A glass appears on the bar in front of him, and Roy stares at the lipstick smudge still clinging to the rim, but it rouses nothing in him--no fastidiousness, or rightful disgust; he just doesn't care, so he drinks.
He does feel the drink, like a knot of frayed rope going down his throat, leaving friction burns behind. So he has another, and several more.
--
It takes a bit, but the liquor finally soaks into him, loosening the tight knots he's kept on all his raveled edges, clearing up the space at the sides of his vision which have been blank and dark for days. He registers Havoc on the bar stool next to him, slouched over with a cigarette, nursing a beer and keeping his eyes straight ahead.
For whatever reason, Roy feels he's fetched up at the outer edge of reality, where all things are equal and nothing is significant. He feels he could ask Havoc the secrets of the universe, and the man would tell him, succinctly.
He wonders if he's ready for that, and decides probably not. So he lifts his glass again, breathes the high octane fumes off the surface and idly imagines the flame it would make if he snapped; fat and flickering blue.
*****
Same lineup as last time, under the cut.
1. 100 word limit [Ouran High School Host Club]
Monopoly
It was a forgone conclusion that Kyouya would dominate the game, but nobody would've expected Haruhi to run him such a close second.
Tamaki mortgaged himself to the hilt to buy the railroads (he'd always loved trains), but the chance cards kept him in the game.
Mori bought Water Works, but traded with Hunny for Baltic Ave., so he could cover it in tiny green houses. The twins wouldn't charge each other rent.
Kyouya landed in jail, and Haruhi offered the Get Out card for Park Place. Too steep, said Kyouya.
You're not getting Boardwalk, Senpai, she replied.
**
2. 100 word limit [Prince of Tennis]
Heart
The ball tumbles out of the sun and Fuji leaps for it, spinning it back across the net; a missive, a message, an answer to the question Niyou doesn't realize he's asked. The boy may wear Tezuka's eyes, Tezuka's limbs, and the breathtaking grace of Tezuka's technique, but Fuji can feel where the likeness ends.
Niyou is only parroting phrases in a language he doesn't understand; failing to grasp that the true mastery of Tezuka's play is a neverending prayer to the very heart of tennis.
Fuji closes his eyes and empties his mind, and takes up Tezuka's prayer himself.
**
3. 5 minutes, image prompt [Fullmetal Alchemist]:
Tintype
Roy dreams he owns a snapshot of Fullmetal, keeps it tucked in the top drawer of his bureau at home. It's an old tintype, blurry and strangely exposed. Ed is picking his way through high reeds at the edge of a pond, near Roy's old childhood home. Blond hair a pale smear, his face barely visible, looking down at his feet.
He wears a white shirt and white trousers; the shirt is short-sleeved, pristine, and his tanned right bicep looks dark in contrast.
Behind him, the water ripples off toward the fog, stretching the length of the opposite bank.
**
4. 5 minutes, word prompt [Ouran/Blackbirdverse (missing scene)]
decide
Morinozuka Higate kneels before his grandfather's altar, and knows that history has backed him into a corner. He always felt no good would come of his son's resemblance to his ancestor, and after all these years his suspicions have proven true. He knows he cannot fault the boy's argument without meddling with his own values--Takashi's loyalty is every bit as stalwart as his own, his determination every bit as fixed and in the end, his son is nothing more nor less than what he was raised to be.
If there is one thing he knows he cannot do, it is divide this family.
**
5. 5 minutes, word prompt [Ouran Host Club]
refraction
The angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection. This is a law of light.
Ootori Kyouya is fitted for glasses when he's ten years old. His eldest brother wears contacts, and the next younger has perfect uncorrected vision.
Everything Kyouya's father has taught him comes down to one fundamental thing: he is separate from his peers. He is an exception to the normal standard. He will always be apart from them.
He learns that if he stands aside of a light source, with no other body to block him, he can observe the world at will, and no one can know where he's looking. He learns if he tilts his head to a certain indirect angle, the light bounces off, revealing nothing beneath the surface.
**
6. 10 minutes, lyric prompt [Fullmetal Alchemist]
There's always a party on funeral row... (Tom McRae, "Sao Paulo Rain")
Coffin
Lieutenant Hawkeye must have driven him home; Roy doesn't entirely recall. All he knows is that when he steps out several hours later, for no reason at all, the car is still there.
Havoc steps out and opens the door for him, and Roy climbs in because it doesn't seem there's anything else to do; he's on autopilot, has been ever since the funeral started, and even now all he really sees is a carved slab of stone where all his normal thoughts and functions ought to be.
They end up somewhere grimy and orange-lit, on a filthy back street between grey brick buildings, and the air reeks of cigarette smoke, and cheap liquor. A glass appears on the bar in front of him, and Roy stares at the lipstick smudge still clinging to the rim, but it rouses nothing in him--no fastidiousness, or rightful disgust; he just doesn't care, so he drinks.
He does feel the drink, like a knot of frayed rope going down his throat, leaving friction burns behind. So he has another, and several more.
--
It takes a bit, but the liquor finally soaks into him, loosening the tight knots he's kept on all his raveled edges, clearing up the space at the sides of his vision which have been blank and dark for days. He registers Havoc on the bar stool next to him, slouched over with a cigarette, nursing a beer and keeping his eyes straight ahead.
For whatever reason, Roy feels he's fetched up at the outer edge of reality, where all things are equal and nothing is significant. He feels he could ask Havoc the secrets of the universe, and the man would tell him, succinctly.
He wonders if he's ready for that, and decides probably not. So he lifts his glass again, breathes the high octane fumes off the surface and idly imagines the flame it would make if he snapped; fat and flickering blue.
*****