It’s been a while since I did anything for tiny Chase and his castaway giant Jacob. Since this prompt didn’t have a name with it, I opted to go with those dorks. Enjoy!
The sheer cliff is unflinching, and no amount of howling wind or pounding rain could so much as sway it. The view above to the goal at its peak causes nearly as much vertigo as the view below, a drop with no end. In one direction waits a challenge, and in the other waits certain peril.
The only things between Chase and that fall are his determination, and the handy climbing rope he’s claimed as his own.
Both hands grip the thick material with whitened knuckles and he swings slightly in a breeze, his heart pounding. There is a smirk on his face, and he seems to revel in the danger. He carefully climbs with one hand over the other, then pauses to let another sway die down. It is dangerous, but he has a goal in mind and he will meet it, no matter the cost.
All of a sudden, out of the depths of the cliff itself, echoes a thunderous noise–
The old house creaked and groaned, constantly settling as the wind outside tested its strength. Jacob crept through the main hall, his boots muffled by a dusty rug that had been traversed many times over the years. The house truly was old, so much so that its wiring was shaky at best, and anything electronic didn’t fit in with the decor.
Jacob kept his flashlight trained on the ground as he walked, and his eyes flickered from side to side. He normally had two small companions on either shoulder, giving him input on where he should go.
They’d led him to this house, this old old place, and that was as far as he’d gotten with their guidance. Old floorboards and walls meant lots of passages within the woodwork of the home to explore. As the only ones that could fit in there, Sam and Dean were the best choice. Sam was only four inches tall, and Dean was a little smaller, but that had yet to slow them down.
Sam and Dean Winchester were hunters, and it ran in the family. After so long thinking their lives had crashed into a dead end in a little motel in Kansas, they were back on the job with a determination to rival anyone. While helping them look for their dad, a hunter who had dropped of the map a couple years back, Jacob was learning the trade as well.
This one ended up well outside my usual fare. Mostly because once my brain decided to associate Dark with the Upside Down, there was no going back. So here, have some cracky Stranger Things fanfic.
“Jacob?” Bowman called. He hated the way his voice wavered.
He couldn’t help it. Wood sprites thrived in the sun with light spreading over their wings. Bowman’s eyes, adjusted to the brightest summer days or the stark winter ones, were not ready for this. Even the moon was nowhere to be seen.
Leaves and grass rustled. Bowman’s eyes were wide, but he could barely see silhouettes.
Long branches reached out overhead, spindly and gnarled. Their shapes against the sky reminded Bowman of a thornbush, and their leaves were sparse and dry.
This one made me go “awwww.” Because I don’t really write enough Bowman & Jiria. The little cuties need more love. Thanks for the prompt!
Near the end of summer, when temperatures finally relented and the cicadas were fat and happy as they sang, Wellwood saw more activity than ever. The knights trained more earnestly to prepare for the encroaching animals of autumn. Nestlings at the right age practiced their flying in hopeful leaps along the ground before the cold would make that impossible. The Big Oak at the heart of the forest saw more visitors to its platforms and boughs as the heat no longer threatened to dry out a pair of wings trying to gather sunlight.
Bowman might normally be out on his patrols at this time of day, but he hadn’t left yet. He lingered at the oak to share a platform and a few more minutes with his date.
He and Jiria sat side by side on a platform, with their legs hanging over the side. They each had a wing open wide to catch the sun while the wings closer to each other brushed together. Jiria’s head rested on his shoulder and he absently played with her pale green braids while she dozed in a suntrance.
The Fire Spirit didn’t often turn His focus on a sprite other than His own children. He and His siblings watched the sprites they lovingly made, answering their Prayers when they could. Even as the fire sprites all over the world asked for magic from the Lord of Change, and even as He answered, He couldn’t help but look in on one of His sister’s children.
A wood sprite had befriended a human. It wasn’t the strangest happening, but it always amused. Most of the Spirits couldn’t resist checking in on the pair from time to time.
This time, as the human trudged through the woods with the sprite flitting to and fro among the leaves that the Earth Spirit had designed him to match, the Fire Spirit had an idea. A sudden notion of mischief ran through His core. If He could smile, He would.
My sister will forgive me, little one, He thought as he reached out from the place where the Spirits lived. I hope you will, too. Nothing wrong with a little change.
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Don’t care. Shut up.”
A fun dialogue prompt for Jacob. And, honestly, who else would he have this conversation with but Bowman Leafwing?
Jacob pursed his lips in an effort to school his expression. He’d definitely heard the sound of Bowman’s landing, though he hadn’t expected it at all. He tread carefully on grassy patches and whatever stones he could find until he could catch up, and then he squatted down so he could see.
Bowman sat up and lifted his arms and wings out of the mud he’d careened right into. Globs of soaked earth dropped from the limbs with tiny plops and Jacob bit determinedly on his lower lip. It wouldn’t do any good to laugh now.
Even covered head to toe in mud, it was very easy to tell when Bowman was about to boil over.
There’s always a risk with Oscar prompts that I’ll end up thinking about Brothers Together Oscar. The little sweetie needs to be checked up on from time to time.
Oscar wished humans didn’t come to his motel to have their fights, but he was used to it by now. The loud, sharp sound of voices so much more powerful than his wavered in the stale air within the walls and the air ducts. Raw emotion that could overwhelm him like a tide ensured that he knew exactly where they were just from the sheer volume. Most of the time, it ended with a door slamming.
He sighed as he wandered his route through the motel. In the vents and the walls, under the floorboards and above the ceiling, Oscar had a routine that he kept to every day. Knowing the schedule and when to nab a stray trinket or dropped piece of food was his entire livelihood.
Today was a good day as far as that was concerned. His bag was comfortably heavy with the spoils of his search for food, and there was even a raisin he was looking forward to eating later. He’d also found a half-emptied packet of tissues underneath a dresser. He carried that under one arm, unsure of what he’d even use it for but glad for the find.
It just figured that a lover’s quarrel would erupt while he was on his way home.
Visiting the village of Wellwood had become something Jacob looked forward to with every opportunity that arose. Long weekends off school or extra time off from his odd jobs almost guaranteed he would make the drive back to the forest that no one else seemed to realized contained a secret. Far beyond the campgrounds and the fence, Jacob made his way towards the idyllic village tucked away in the heart of the woods.
Out there surrounded by the green and gold of the canopy and the earthy tones of the tree trunks and the ground under his boots, Jacob felt the stress falling away. Out here, the most he had to worry about was stepping on slick mud and losing his footing.
The closer he came to his destination, the more he watched where he walked. If someone was wandering outside the village, he didn’t want to risk stepping on them. The sprites were smaller than his hand.
Wings or not, they were vulnerable when he was around, and he didn’t plan to betray the trust they’d placed in him years ago.
The gentle sound of water coursing through the stream ahead signalled that he was close. The village came into view not long after, small homes grown right onto the branches and trunks of a cluster of pine trees. The water in the stream glinted cheerily, and beyond the pines there was a sunny, round clearing. The village of Wellwood seemed to greet Jacob like a long-wandering resident.
Oscar looked up from where he sat curled up on his bed, startled by the sudden burst of noise. Noriko was watching TV out there, enjoying her favorite show. Oscar never knew what made her laugh so much, but so long as it kept her attention away from him for a while, he liked it. Whenever Noriko paid him attention, she wanted to hold him in her hands constantly, poking at him or petting his messy hair.
He hated it. He hated it so much, but he knew better than to think things would ever be any different. Oscar was just her newest favorite doll.
Sentence Prompt: “Well, if you had woken up properly the first time I kicked you, I wouldn’t have had to do it four more times.”
I had a lot of fun with this one, featuring Eral the Arbor Pixie! Just another day in the life of a bard’s handler/pixie drinking buddy.
The best thing about rescue jobs was the people, Elias would always say. Nine times out of ten, someone holding a hostage for a ransom didn’t really want anyone to get hurt. They didn’t do it for a fight, they did it for a quick coin. People like that were the easiest to deal with, so said the bard.
Eral didn’t really believe it, but he went along for the jobs anyway.