[Fanfic] the sun will light a sea of sorrow
Title: the sun will light a sea of sorrow
Author/Artist: ryoku_chan
Prompt: Battle Royale AU, Hong Kong attempts to save Iceland from
being killed. He succeeds but not without being injured.
Pairings: Hong Kong/Iceland
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/Violence
Summary: He doesn't expect to win this game; but at the same time he doesn't want to lose.
It is cold and dark when the chime resounds. The sound is subtle - barely noticeable beyond the nights hum - but everyone within reach of the bell's summon tenses. Hei shoots up with a sudden jerking motion. His hand gropes for the discarded firearm, the small sleek handgun that would be glowing in the moonlight is invisible in this cloaked dusk. Eirik is already up with his pistol at the ready. He is huddled low to the ground, a rotting tree acts as his only cover. It will be a poor defense against bullets; if he is lucky it will not come to that but this is hardly a game of luck. Hei’s searching, but there is nothing to be seen in this moonless night - his hand flails around where the item was last left when he drifted into a restless slumber. Eirik can make him out - his eyes had adjusted earlier - but he is occupied at the moment. There is something lurking about, and it needs to be dealt with. If it is an animal of some sort it will be good to eat for tomorrow. If it is human there are more sinister fates. This is not a game for the unprepared. Eirik is done taking chances and coming up short.
There’s a corpse five hours past, and if another is going to litter his path then so be it. Eirik is the oldest now, and he’ll play the part as it is required. He’s no intention of leaving Hei until there is a conclusion.
Hei has found his item, and is stumbling up. He’s making too much noise - Eirik wants to say as much - but there are more important things. The trees are rustling, the birds are dispersing - their wings making a ruckus in the heavy night air.
A shot fires but it is far in the distance, too far to be their invader, but close enough to be a threat in a few hours. It’s some sort of an opening. Eirik uses the noise as cover, and comes away from the tree he’s cowering behind.
He looks, and sees nothing; another direction. Eirik takes his best guess and moves behind another tree, his movements swift and seamless. It would do no good to be noticed. Hei is following his lead, though the dark haired teen still looks wide eyed and worried.
Eirik gives him a hardened gaze before turning back to the matter at hand. He doesn’t see the look he is given in response.
It is Hei that decides to take the risk and pokes his head from behind the makeshift barricade. He tucks back, and signals with his hand that there is someone there. He gestures something else, but Eirik can’t understand what he’s trying to convey. He means to let Hei know this, but isn’t given the time to do so.
The dark haired teen is running to the right, making a wide sweep so that he can come up to the invaders left; hopefully undetected. Eirik wants to chase after him. Make him stop, and chastise him for being reckless, but it’s too late for that. He waits and hopes.
When rapid-fire shots ring out Eirik’s adrenalin peeks. The bullets don’t stop and Eirik starts his own wide sweep in the opposite direction, a mirror of Hei's. He won't deny the thought that crosses his mind.
You could run
Don’t let this game destroy you
Some things are worse than death. He refuses to run. The path he's chosen circles around, and Eirik takes great care in being silent. He puts faith in Hei and takes time to conceal his movements, because if anything is to work it will be this.
Then there is a crash, it is almost soft in comparison to the bullets as they pierced the abandoned silence, but it remains distinctively noticeable. Grass and dirt and twigs crunch and break under pressure, and their screams play to Eirik's insecurities. The rain of artillery stops, and there is soft gasping and loud footsteps in the direction Hei took. Eirik expects the worst and forces himself to keep his labored pace. He will not blow this, not only for Hei, but for himself and corpses he's already crossed.
Eirik approaches and the footsteps stop; there is talking. It’s only slight muttering and gasps of pain interlaced together in breathy huffs. Eirik refuses to focus on it as actual language, only sees it as guttural sound; sound only an animal would utter. It is simply noise leading him in the proper direction. The only thing that exists is the target, a shadowed figure becoming more defined as he gets closer. It’s do or die now, Eirik is close enough to either be shot or to shoot. In a flurry of well timed movement his gun is to the back of the opponents head, and Eirik’s voice is working on its own; hard, cold and paced.
“Drop it.” He’s referring to the gun in the figures hand, the one that has probably injured Hei. The one that might have already been his end. The figure tenses, but doesn’t move.
“Drop it. Now.”
Still nothing happens, and Eirik holds no reservations. Two warnings is more than he should have given; weakness will get him killed. As his trigger finger tightens he see’s Hei for the first time. He’s on the ground, the tall grass embracing him and his hand is gripping strongly to his side. Eirik is glad to see that he is still alive, but Hei's dark eyes demand from him. He looks horrified; a small child watching a horror movie for the first time; a poor adolescent who can't seem to distinguish the monsters in real life to the shadows splashed across a silver screen.
Eirik shifts; shoots down. He lodges lead into a foot. Though it isn’t intentional, it gets the job done. A bloody warning, not a bloody end. There is gratuitous cursing to be done and the gun is down. By the sound of the voice and the interlaced Spanish, Eirik can guess that the person is Antonio, but he can’t be sure. In fact, he doesn't want to be.
Eirik takes the moment to kick the gun away.
“You won’t get another warning shot. Turn and walk, now. I’ll know if you come back.”
There is angry mumbling, but Eirik will not recognize it. Antonio - a person with a name - hobbles off as best he can. Eirik waits a good fifteen minutes after Antonio is out of sight. He listens for the chime that goes off as Antonio leaves, and does not hear it again. It’s the best indication he will get that Antonio is not entering again.
Hei is his first priority, and Eirik kneels down to see how he’s fairing. He thinks the younger teen looks pale - it might just be his imagination or the dark setting. But it is unmistakable that his hand - the one holding his side - is covered in a dark sticky substance.
Eirik keeps himself in check. He doesn't take the time to inspect Hei's obvious injury yet. If it is that bad, Hei will die. There is little Eirik can do about that, if it is to happen then it will; but they need cover now. Back to where they made camp would be best, all of their supplies and personal items are there. Eirik hastily grabs the discarded guns, both Antonio's and Hei's, which is laying forlornly a few feet away. Once they are retrieved - because they could be more useful than Hei in the future - Hei is hoisted up as quickly and painlessly as possible.
Hei groans, but Eirik only shushes him and the two hobble back to their origin. Once they're returned Eirik retrieve bandages from his pack that have been packed away in preparation for the game. They want you to linger.
Eirik can see well enough, but it is still to dark to accurately address Hei's wound. So the first order of business is to add pressure; the bleeding needs to stop. So Eirik works on that. He continues until he can see that Hei is wincing in discomfort.
“You're doing that on purpose.” Hei responds. The sound is something between a mumble and a groan, but not quite either.
“Shut up. Put pressure on it.”
“Can't you-”
“No. We're leaving.”
“But its-”
“This darkness is good cover.”
“So we-”
“Yes. Be ready to leave.”
Hei nods, but it isn't a a fluid motion, its more of a jerk and it looks and feels disjointed. Eirik lingers. There are things that need doing; the bells must be retrieved, the strings cut, the camp left as it was before they came - no one must know they were here.
There are things that need doing, things that will ensure his survival; but Eirik lingers, and Hei offers a smile.
Eirik takes it.
Comments are lovely, if you enjoyed it or did not. Constructive criticism is always wonderful and very helpful. Thank you for your time.
Author/Artist: ryoku_chan
Prompt: Battle Royale AU, Hong Kong attempts to save Iceland from
being killed. He succeeds but not without being injured.
Pairings: Hong Kong/Iceland
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/Violence
Summary: He doesn't expect to win this game; but at the same time he doesn't want to lose.
It is cold and dark when the chime resounds. The sound is subtle - barely noticeable beyond the nights hum - but everyone within reach of the bell's summon tenses. Hei shoots up with a sudden jerking motion. His hand gropes for the discarded firearm, the small sleek handgun that would be glowing in the moonlight is invisible in this cloaked dusk. Eirik is already up with his pistol at the ready. He is huddled low to the ground, a rotting tree acts as his only cover. It will be a poor defense against bullets; if he is lucky it will not come to that but this is hardly a game of luck. Hei’s searching, but there is nothing to be seen in this moonless night - his hand flails around where the item was last left when he drifted into a restless slumber. Eirik can make him out - his eyes had adjusted earlier - but he is occupied at the moment. There is something lurking about, and it needs to be dealt with. If it is an animal of some sort it will be good to eat for tomorrow. If it is human there are more sinister fates. This is not a game for the unprepared. Eirik is done taking chances and coming up short.
There’s a corpse five hours past, and if another is going to litter his path then so be it. Eirik is the oldest now, and he’ll play the part as it is required. He’s no intention of leaving Hei until there is a conclusion.
Hei has found his item, and is stumbling up. He’s making too much noise - Eirik wants to say as much - but there are more important things. The trees are rustling, the birds are dispersing - their wings making a ruckus in the heavy night air.
A shot fires but it is far in the distance, too far to be their invader, but close enough to be a threat in a few hours. It’s some sort of an opening. Eirik uses the noise as cover, and comes away from the tree he’s cowering behind.
He looks, and sees nothing; another direction. Eirik takes his best guess and moves behind another tree, his movements swift and seamless. It would do no good to be noticed. Hei is following his lead, though the dark haired teen still looks wide eyed and worried.
Eirik gives him a hardened gaze before turning back to the matter at hand. He doesn’t see the look he is given in response.
It is Hei that decides to take the risk and pokes his head from behind the makeshift barricade. He tucks back, and signals with his hand that there is someone there. He gestures something else, but Eirik can’t understand what he’s trying to convey. He means to let Hei know this, but isn’t given the time to do so.
The dark haired teen is running to the right, making a wide sweep so that he can come up to the invaders left; hopefully undetected. Eirik wants to chase after him. Make him stop, and chastise him for being reckless, but it’s too late for that. He waits and hopes.
When rapid-fire shots ring out Eirik’s adrenalin peeks. The bullets don’t stop and Eirik starts his own wide sweep in the opposite direction, a mirror of Hei's. He won't deny the thought that crosses his mind.
You could run
Don’t let this game destroy you
Some things are worse than death. He refuses to run. The path he's chosen circles around, and Eirik takes great care in being silent. He puts faith in Hei and takes time to conceal his movements, because if anything is to work it will be this.
Then there is a crash, it is almost soft in comparison to the bullets as they pierced the abandoned silence, but it remains distinctively noticeable. Grass and dirt and twigs crunch and break under pressure, and their screams play to Eirik's insecurities. The rain of artillery stops, and there is soft gasping and loud footsteps in the direction Hei took. Eirik expects the worst and forces himself to keep his labored pace. He will not blow this, not only for Hei, but for himself and corpses he's already crossed.
Eirik approaches and the footsteps stop; there is talking. It’s only slight muttering and gasps of pain interlaced together in breathy huffs. Eirik refuses to focus on it as actual language, only sees it as guttural sound; sound only an animal would utter. It is simply noise leading him in the proper direction. The only thing that exists is the target, a shadowed figure becoming more defined as he gets closer. It’s do or die now, Eirik is close enough to either be shot or to shoot. In a flurry of well timed movement his gun is to the back of the opponents head, and Eirik’s voice is working on its own; hard, cold and paced.
“Drop it.” He’s referring to the gun in the figures hand, the one that has probably injured Hei. The one that might have already been his end. The figure tenses, but doesn’t move.
“Drop it. Now.”
Still nothing happens, and Eirik holds no reservations. Two warnings is more than he should have given; weakness will get him killed. As his trigger finger tightens he see’s Hei for the first time. He’s on the ground, the tall grass embracing him and his hand is gripping strongly to his side. Eirik is glad to see that he is still alive, but Hei's dark eyes demand from him. He looks horrified; a small child watching a horror movie for the first time; a poor adolescent who can't seem to distinguish the monsters in real life to the shadows splashed across a silver screen.
Eirik shifts; shoots down. He lodges lead into a foot. Though it isn’t intentional, it gets the job done. A bloody warning, not a bloody end. There is gratuitous cursing to be done and the gun is down. By the sound of the voice and the interlaced Spanish, Eirik can guess that the person is Antonio, but he can’t be sure. In fact, he doesn't want to be.
Eirik takes the moment to kick the gun away.
“You won’t get another warning shot. Turn and walk, now. I’ll know if you come back.”
There is angry mumbling, but Eirik will not recognize it. Antonio - a person with a name - hobbles off as best he can. Eirik waits a good fifteen minutes after Antonio is out of sight. He listens for the chime that goes off as Antonio leaves, and does not hear it again. It’s the best indication he will get that Antonio is not entering again.
Hei is his first priority, and Eirik kneels down to see how he’s fairing. He thinks the younger teen looks pale - it might just be his imagination or the dark setting. But it is unmistakable that his hand - the one holding his side - is covered in a dark sticky substance.
Eirik keeps himself in check. He doesn't take the time to inspect Hei's obvious injury yet. If it is that bad, Hei will die. There is little Eirik can do about that, if it is to happen then it will; but they need cover now. Back to where they made camp would be best, all of their supplies and personal items are there. Eirik hastily grabs the discarded guns, both Antonio's and Hei's, which is laying forlornly a few feet away. Once they are retrieved - because they could be more useful than Hei in the future - Hei is hoisted up as quickly and painlessly as possible.
Hei groans, but Eirik only shushes him and the two hobble back to their origin. Once they're returned Eirik retrieve bandages from his pack that have been packed away in preparation for the game. They want you to linger.
Eirik can see well enough, but it is still to dark to accurately address Hei's wound. So the first order of business is to add pressure; the bleeding needs to stop. So Eirik works on that. He continues until he can see that Hei is wincing in discomfort.
“You're doing that on purpose.” Hei responds. The sound is something between a mumble and a groan, but not quite either.
“Shut up. Put pressure on it.”
“Can't you-”
“No. We're leaving.”
“But its-”
“This darkness is good cover.”
“So we-”
“Yes. Be ready to leave.”
Hei nods, but it isn't a a fluid motion, its more of a jerk and it looks and feels disjointed. Eirik lingers. There are things that need doing; the bells must be retrieved, the strings cut, the camp left as it was before they came - no one must know they were here.
There are things that need doing, things that will ensure his survival; but Eirik lingers, and Hei offers a smile.
Eirik takes it.
Comments are lovely, if you enjoyed it or did not. Constructive criticism is always wonderful and very helpful. Thank you for your time.