Cheriour Leclair (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chroniker) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trollxzibit2012-10-17 08:15 pm
chroniker) wrote in trollxzibit2012-10-17 08:15 pm
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND COCKROACHES MAY I PRESENT TO YOU THE INFAMOUS
2. Others will comment on your characters, anonymously or logged in, suggesting ships and prompts they want you to write about.
3. Anything goes, from fluffy to smut to everything in between! Also, there is no word limit, so it can be as short or as long as you want.
4. ????????
5. ALL THE SHIPPING EVER AND ALSO FEELINGS
GO GO GO AND SHIP FOR GREAT JUSTICE
also just a note BUT THIS ISN'T LIMITED TO JUST SCRIB PEOPLE you could put your character's ancestors/guardians and whatnot for the shipping too if you want to, whatever floats your boat
no subject
Yes c:
no subject
gomen for lack of writing skills
Once upon a time a young prince sold his soul to a terrible monster in order to protect his kingdom, a kingdom forgotten by it’s late king – dependent on the prince alone.
Legend has told for many years that the prince is alive for a thousand years, but his mind is long gone.
No one dares come close to him, he forbids the people to visit him – driving them away by force and a curse.
In the outskirts of the kingdom lived a little flower girl with her grandmother, she has heard the tale of the unfortunate prince since birth and kept day-dreaming everyday of what it would be like to visit him, surely he is alone, anyone should have some company.
So the little flower girl decided she would just do that, go visit the prince disregarding all warnings.
She packed a small basket with apples crimson like blood and the fragrant flowers her gardens provided, she wore her green boots and kissed her grandmother good-bye, not turning back to her pleas to stay.
The way to the palace was long and hard and the people she met along the way more and more hopeless and sad; when asking for directions she was met with tears form her direction-givers, blessings and words of courage to fill her ears, breads, cheese and wine to fill her basket.
‘Go to the prince, send him our love’ People would tell her before quietly retreating to the gloom of their lives once again.
Upon arriving to the palace she felt her heart sink.
The little flower girl felt a strong feeling of devastation and unnatural sadness wrap around her like wet appendages of creatures of the deep sea, she shuddered at every step, feeling sick to her stomach – but keeping her steps as steady as she could to make it to the doors.
‘Go away, small child – you are not welcome here’ The guards warned her, but she stubbornly demanded to see the lonesome prince.
‘It’s not worth it, you’ll become so sad’ They would try reason with her, but she would still keep her ground firm.
The exhausted guards have long since encountered such determination, so they couldn’t deny her the meeting any longer.
‘Before you proceed’ They say in unison – ‘You must leave some blood behind, make a trail to find your way back, for it’s pure and would light your path’ – Without warning they cut her hand and let blood sip to the ground before opening the doors.
The corridors are neatly decorated; colors purple, dark and grim. She would touch this wall and that vase, stain it with blood that nearly glowed, looking back from time to time to see that it’s still there.
When she reached the throne room, it was unlocked – doors wide open, welcoming her in and in the center of it, set on the throne – was the grim prince, watching her every move through eyes long gone.
‘My liege’ She would speak, ‘I bring gifts from the people, words of love to you, our prince!’ – stepping closer to him.
But he doesn’t speak, doesn’t stop her.
‘I have come a long way, my lord’ Another step closer, she is almost there! ‘I request a place to rest, just to sit for a while. May I? By your side?’
He wouldn’t even breathe, just watching her closely, a few steps form him, trembling in both fright and excitement.
‘W͈͈͍͖͂̂̈́̃h̰͋ͯ̐y̱̍̆̋ ̯̺̰͔wͫ̆̏͏̠ȯ͔͛̆͝u͉͔͑͌͘l̨̪̼͉̲̮̫̲͐̂̽̒̏ͧd͔̟ͣͦ̃͊ ̐͋͆̚͏͔̟̗̮̥̼y̔͌̀̅ͫoͪ̊ͭͧͣu̮͓̗̪͛̐͌̃̋̇́ ̺̲͔̋̎̅͗̚͞t̸͈̣͚͖̟̹̂̾ͪͤ̊ṛ̬̟͖̣̬̇̂͒̌a͖͍̘͔̱̭̽̊̈́̋ͬv̗ͯ͒̓ͮͧ̉͒͜e͔͊͆́ͩ͢l̟̤̳̯̽ͩ͠ ̳̮̃ͩ̚͠f̖͇r̵̞͍ͬo̢̭̪̳͎̮ͤ͐͒ͤ̎͂m̛̓̌ͨ̃ͪ̿ ̘̻̟̘͎͉̍ͤ̎͋͐̾̚ṡ͓̪̥̭̼̰͊̍ͮ̋͐̄ŏ̲̬͚̹̲̼͝ ̵̦̰͚͙̜̾̽ͮͦ͒͆͌ͅf͚͚̍͌̑a͖̱̰͇̗͟r̯̔̈̄̊ͩͪͨ ̩̥̘͍̞́͋ͣ͗̎̇͠a̻͟w̛͈̭͎̮̰ͯͧ͒͆a̦̹͔̦̜͢y̲̮ͩͣ,̫̩̈̾ͬ ̀t̸̖̲̬̝̤̅͐̇ͅo̊ͭͧͦ̓ͮ̂҉̻͔ ̙̦̖̺̆ͥͭͦ̉w̨͍̥̉̈̄ͩ̇̅ͬi̺̪̓͌̀̀ͅͅt̮̤͐ͨͪ͊͡n̻͎̗͔̭̠͙ͬ̆̆͌̚͘e͖̜͙ͮs̤̦̠̘̞͡ͅs͉̠͈̥̪̙̜͛́́ ̶͇̫̙̤ͧ̊a̛͌̒̀͗̍ͯ̐ ͑̽̇ͬͬ̊ş͕̤̪̲̺̩͔h͙̞̦̰̦͙͝ͅe̴͋͐̊̓ͧͭl̗̼̼͇ͬ͂̎̌͆l̫͙̫̠̦̑ͥ ̱̳̍ͯ̓̿ͯ̃ͯͅö̸̼̺̝̤́ͧ͋f̵̺ͩͤ̆͂̇̾ ͋͏̮̺̹̞͇̦̝â ͈̩̤̙̲͓̺̀̐̂̀͌p̱̤͊ͯ͆̿r̡͕i͗ͧ̈͡n̺̰̗̯̥ͮ̌͆ce̮̙̺̪̱͉̯̊ ̶͓̰͔̩̺͈̦͆ĺ͙͉̯͙̌̐̉̄̂̚ỏ̘̟͇̜͍̑̋͌̒n̄̓ͧ̋g̃ͬ͗҉͙̦͓͉̯̳ ̘͚̥̪̣̀ͤ̃ͧ̔̂̆͞d̏ͤ͛̿ͤͫ̀ė̻̣ͦ͠ā̳̣͈͖̱͊̍̒͊ͮ͢d̘̐̄̏̃ͧ̓͢ͅ?̤̳̫͍͍̉́̓͠ͅ’ He suddenly asks, voice covered in ichor and crawling with a demon’s whisper.
‘No one deserves to be alone for so long’ She sits by his side, clear of her decision, basket in front of him, apples placed on his lap.
‘I̳̲̓̔̾̈́ ͎̖̞̪͍̤͇͐̒ͬ̄̐c̖͉̠̟̐̉͒á̝̆̊n͈͙ͬ̓͐̉ͣͪ̒ṇ̱̰̖͔͋̽̉̃o̯̼̻̯͍ͩ̀͋̉̕t̜̬̲̟̗̄͠ ̂ͤͤ̊͛̋̚͏͈͍̥͕͚e̷͔̱͚̞͔ͦ̓̎̎ͦ͗ȁ̭̟̣ͦ͂ͬt̢̤̯͉̝ͭ ͚̲̘̱͙ͯ̐̓̉͋́͘t̳̮̺͉͖͐̉̐h̸̳̣̭͖̪̟͇͗͋̈́o͕̹͚̭̩̩̫̕s͈̗̲͎͗ͮ͆͞e̮̟̫̿,̖̌̔̾̽͞ ͫ͆͝I̝̗̰̦͖͙͟ ̧̜̰ͬ̓͑̇͋ͥ̍c͉͚̙̣̺̻̥͘a̔̒̓̍͏̲̗̙͖̘n͍͎ͯ͒ͬ͒̏͛̚'̡̖̥̤̻̝̓̐ͅt̻̭̤̩̲̿ ̛̬͍̹͓̽ͧ͌fͮ̉͑͑̀̕o͙̰̠̩̦̤͉ͫ̈́ͤ̓̂r̪̲͉ͮͅ ̡͎͕̭̦mͨ͏͓͔̲͍ͅa͇͉̻͑̅̈́ͭ̉̍͆ͅn͙͚̗̄̏̎͋ͥy̘̮͙̖̳̞͐͐ ̫̫͙̤͛ͬͮ̕y̡̞͎̘̤̻̅ͯ̆̎ͮ̈e̷͓͙͉̜͓̟̜̒ͬ̎͊ͮ̿̉ă̜̪̒ͩ͡r͇̘̟̓s̙͎͎̳̖̈́ͯ͑̀͌͛ͭ ͦ̃̾́̐ṇ̲̳̥̬͔͡õ͇̏͂͂̊w͍͈̩͔̺̙͑̾̆ͬ̾ͅ’ And just a touch from the prince rots the fruit, reezes it’s core and devours it’s soul.
‘A gift for my prince, the bravest of men’ The little flower girl whispers, placing her head on his lap besides the apple.
For many years since that day people would tell the story of a brave flower girl who stays by the grim prince’s side to this very day, keeping him company, while demons feed on their souls.