YURI SHIPPING OLYMPICS 2024 - BONUS ROUND 7

[a1c0bb]

For this round, we want to see prompts that are based on settings or locations! For your prompts, please provide a location or setting. It can be as specific or as abstract as you want, and can be in any medium you prefer!

POINTS - BONUS ROUNDS
For prompts: 10 points each (maximum of 150 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:
First 4 fills by any member of your team: 100 points each
Fills 5-10: 50 points each
Fills 11-20: 40 points each
Fills 21-50: 30 points each
Fills 51+: 25 points each

Comments

Prompt: Team Webcomics/Webtoons

[static_prevails]

In an adult character’s childhood bedroom

FILL: Team Anime/Manga

[hopelessgemini]

“Okay, but like,” Cinder starts, and Winter groans, “what did you even do in here?”

“Sleep,” Winter says, pointedly avoiding her gaze. She crosses the room so she doesn’t have to look at Cinder’s shoes on her bed and starts awkwardly rearranging some of the books on a high shelf, wrinkling her nose against the inevitable hail of dust. “Train, sometimes.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Cinder point questioningly towards the mirror. “Against yourself?”

Weiss must have snuck in at some point after she moved out (and started sleeping in the guest bedrooms whenever she visited), because there are stickers all over the bottom part of the frame. She didn’t even know Weiss liked horses.

“On occasion. When I wasn’t allowed out of my room.”

Cinder snorts. “You really were a stubborn kid.”

“The only reason my father let me out of the house in the first place is because I wouldn’t stop brandishing swords at him,” Winter says idly. Someone must have borrowed one of her books and placed it back in the wrong order; she focuses on correcting it, leaning up onto her tiptoes instead of bothering to use the stepping stool, so she doesn’t have to see the range of expressions Cinder’s face goes through in the space of a few seconds.

“Swords,” she says eventually, too casual to be anything but forced. “You had a sword collection as a kid?”

“Hardly a collection.” Winter steps away from the bookshelf and turns back to her on the bed, hyper-aware now of her eyes following the trail of scuff marks and lines around the room. It only looks pristine until you look closely. “My swords are my grandfather’s. I had a dagger I trained with for a little while, too, but I didn’t really learn how to use it until I went to the Academy.”

“Anything else?” Cinder drawls.

Winter tilts her head to the side, thinking, ignoring the sarcasm. “I used rifles whenever I went on business trips with my father — clay pigeons and so on, you know — but it was hardly training. I’m fairly good with an axe. I understand how to operate weapons that use Dust, obviously. Most training guns for the younger children at Huntsman academies have standard-issue bullets, though, so that was more of a personal project.”

Cinder snorts, ducking her head. Her legs kick up on the other side of the mattress and trail in the air, and for a moment Winter has to wonder just what her childhood could have been like if she was there. “Wow. Normal childhood, huh?”