![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a1c0bb posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
yurishippingolympics
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
PROMPT: Tokusatsu Yuri Ships United Front
Date: 2024-08-17 01:43 am (UTC)FILL: TOKUSATSU YURI SHIPS UNITED FRONT
Date: 2024-08-30 06:14 pm (UTC)Canon: Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger
Words: 1728
----------
The rain provides no comfort as it penetrates through the layers of Amy’s clothes.
Icy wind shoves past her, turning raindrops into blades slashing at her face. Any water that has made cloth its refuge, on the other hand, has latched on fast; the dysfunctional waltz her skin and wet clothing stumble through drop through degrees on top of degrees in temperature. Her clothing clings to her skin, slippery and unstable — on the edge of frost altogether.
But if the rain has permeated through her entire being, then how must the other girl on the shoreline fare?
It’s no surprise that Yayoi has come to the sea; the home of Plezuon’s organic ancestors welcome all those who fight alongside it. But the sand is not as forgiving; it coats Yayoi’s shoes, refusing to fall at the assault the rain gives it.
And yet, Yayoi walks, farther and farther from Amy. Her trembling hands form fists, and her face refuses to turn to Amy; waterfalls run down from her hair and onto her back, but regardless, she continues through the rain.
It’s madness. This conversation could have been had in a nicer, warmer place. But because Yayoi had chosen to march here to line the sea, the rain — and perhaps, the sea — have found new victims to claim.
Sand squelches under Amy’s soaked shoes, and cold nips at exposed skin. But, worst of all, the wind rubs Amy’s throat raw as she shouts, loud as possible.
May the wind, the rain, and the sea give her one blessing; over its tempestuous orchestra, may her voice pass through and reach Yayoi.
“Yayoi, let’s go back! It’s raining way too much, you’re going to catch a cold. Can we please talk this out inside?”
Yayoi’s pace only increases at Amy’s call. So Amy’s words can reach her — what a relief. But how Yayoi can harness the power of Hermes when the world insists on slowing them down, Amy has no idea. Or, perhaps, it’s only Amy facing the music; has the sea decided to be kind, and ask the sky to lighten up only around its friend?
Wait. Scratch that. Why?! Even an idiot could sense Yayoi’s staggering steps, or the tremors through her body. The outdoors’s hissy fit affects her, too; why has she chosen to be outside?!
What could even warrant choosing suffering, when relieving options lay themselves on a platter?
“Seriously, what’s going on?!” Amy exclaims.
“You wouldn’t know!” Yayoi cries, “Just go back by yourself! Leave me alone! I want to be alone!”
“But what’s wrong with you?! You can be alone inside, just-”
“I want to be out here!”
It makes no sense!
And there the sea goes, washing through her shoes; Amy hisses at the touch of saltwater on her frozen feet. But she can’t stop now; the rain’s onslaught grows heavier. If Amy is unable to keep her current pace, or even speed up, she might just lose Yayoi to nature’s whims entirely.
Sand is excellent at slowing a person down; one must burrow half their feet within its clutches, and allow it to seep through any blockades they wear to protect from it. It provides no rapport, like soil or concrete. Amy never liked fighting in it, anyway.
She yells, “But why?! Why out here?!”
“I just want to think!” Yayoi responds even louder.
“In the rain?! Yayoi, it’s freezing out here! What do you even have to think about out here?! Is it that serious?!”
“Yes! Now leave me be!”
Fulfilling her request might as well be tying the gallows’ knot herself. But why would she even bother with such an insane wish? Amy can leave her alone — just not out here!
Frustration crawls up her neck; the heat from within that it ignites might as well cause steam surrounded by the biting air. The hammer may strike, as many times as it wants, but this nail refuses to budge.
And it’ll rise up, and up, and up, until she blows her top off entirely!
“What even is it?!” she shrieks, cracks rampant in her voice, “Are you planning something?! Do you need to talk to someone?! Or is it-”
And suddenly, her mind is whisked away.
The room she remembers is much, much warmer than her current surroundings. She wasn’t even supposed to be there; she was supposed to be walking past, fetching something unmemorable for Souji.
But, somehow, it was as if her heartstrings had pulled, begging her mind to stop, just to listen to the soft echoes of Yayoi’s voice beyond.
Yayoi had sounded rather worried — the speed and loudness of her voice had fluctuated rapidly, straining Amy’s ears. Clearly, this wasn’t a topic meant for outsiders to hear. And Amy hadn’t meant to! It was just a mere chance that this happened this way.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen again! This stupid crush… what do I do now?!”
That’s it! That has to be it, right?!
“You like someone, right?” escapes Amy’s mouth, ignoring feeble attempts at stoppage.
At last, Yayoi stops.
She is an ice statue, unmoving; the rain must have been hard at work carving her out through sorrow and secrets. No, not quite; she still shivers from the cold wind. But stopping is perfect, for Amy. She advances forward, making haste-
Only to stop with Yayoi turning around.
Raindrops taint the lenses on her glasses, clouding her eyes from Amy. But the tight-lipped frown is obvious enough; her bottom lip quivers, possibly from both cold and query alike.
“...You heard me?” she asks, voice a mere whisper that barely reaches Amy.
Amy is quick to put her hands together. Some things aren’t meant to be heard, the world had decreed millions of years ago — Amy, by stopping at that door on that fateful day, had broken that decree.
“Sorry!” she squeaks, “I shouldn’t have, but I was walking by when you were talking about it.”
The sea is an onlooker, leaving Amy’s fate entirely in Yayoi’s hands. But it seems Yayoi has opted to not look at Amy altogether; her head tilts ever-slightly to the side, and out into the fog cloaking the horizon.
“...Did you hear who it was?” she asks, tone dangerously low and soft.
No! Amy can’t fail now!
Frustration mixes with an ever-helpless pit forming in her heart, becoming a void that steals away resolve. Oh, she could cry so easily now; what’s stopping her from falling to her knees and letting hot tears leave their marks on the sand?
Judgment is an unfair master, bribed by emotion and impression. To hell with it all; please, won’t Yayoi hear her plea?!
She wails, “No! No, I swear!”
Fatigue leadens her bones, refusing to stop their advent. How it cajoles her to just crumple, and make sand and sea mistress of her fate.
She only barely hears the small “hmph” from Yayoi, and what comes after.
“Good!”
Yayoi’s pivot is much faster this time, and the footprints she leaves in the sand are much deeper. The waves are just short of her, this time, but they crash against Amy’s shins as she gives chase.
Cold, cold, cold- why won’t she stop?! Now, Amy’s really had it; it’s like talking to a brick wall! The puff of steam must be rising against all odds, now; will it rise high enough off her irritation to be mistaken for one of the clouds in the sky?!
She chokes on rain as she opens her mouth this time. Any more attempts, and surely, blood will run down the insides of her throat.
“I don’t get it!” and here she is, leadened step after leadened step, “Did this person do something to you? Why are you so upset over a cru-”
“Don’t you get it, Amy?! It’s you I like!”
The wind goes deathly-still.
Rain continues to pour, but Yayoi’s tracks have now stopped — and Amy’s, in turn. The sea, in the meantime, ripples like always, albeit more taunting this time — look at you, Amy Yuuzuki, you claim to be so close to her and you didn’t even notice?!
Gone is the annoyance in her mind, leaving nothing at all. All that is left is quiet, the rain, and the shoreline.
“...Huh?” her voice quivers.
When Amy had read about love confessions, through pages and pages of shoujo manga, she’d always expected them to be warm and sweet, like walking through meadows and picking strawberries on a summer day. She’d always expected flush on both their cheeks, and giggles as both parties join hands.
Nowhere had she expected her heart to become shattered ice, and for the ocean to laugh at her all the while. Nowhere had she expected tears and rain intermingling, and for voices to claw themselves hoarse with cries.
Yayoi shakes as she turns this time, and Amy’s quick to look at her face. Her teeth grit alongside trembling lips, and her eyebrows knit together, drawing attention to Yayoi’s eyes. Even through the mist on her glasses, her eyes swell with water.
“You! I like you!” Yayoi screams, scratches down her voice, “But there’s no way you’ll ever like me back! And even if you did, now I’ve gone and ruined it!”
She doesn’t hesitate in running away this time, leaving Amy behind, refusing to look at Amy at all — as if the girl she had confessed to was a monster all along.
Amy’s heart lies at the bottom of a pit, crumbled pieces a mere shadow of what they used to be. Maybe, they’ll mix with the sand while her mind takes her for a spin.
What to do now?
The only answer she receives is Yayoi’s figure growing smaller and smaller, long slipping past the grasp of Amy’s outstretched hand.
She gasps, “Yayoi, wait-”
What is she doing, standing still?! The farther Yayoi is, the less questions will be answered; she has to reach her now, for closure. If Amy loses her, her own feelings will never reach Yayoi! The truth will never see the sun, and the shoreline will list this tale as another tragedy.
White-hot tears bubble at her own eyes as Amy breaks into a dash, agony pulsating through her legs. All she can hope is that her broken cries will overpower all those that stand against it, and finally break through to Yayoi’s mind.
“Wait! Please!”