Update: This literally sucks so feel free to skip
In the media section is the prompt I'm giving myself! (I'm starting easy)
Characters appearing: Thyra, Tore, Asa, Torkel, Njord.
Protagonists: Thyra, Tore, Asa.
Antagonists: Torkel, Njord.
Description: nope. Read to find out. Hint: it's in medieval time.
Sneak peek at dialogue:
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"This is kind of awkward," __ breaks the silence.
"Aren't you supposed to be the enemy?!"
"...Shut up."
"YOU LOST YOUR PET NOT YOUR MOTHER!"
"I LOVED MR FLUFFLES!"
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First, second, or third person: Third. It's in present tense so if I slip, feel free to threaten me/ call me out!
Okay, enjoy :)
Published 1st Jan 2021
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Three teens—two girls and one guy— are stood on the rooftop of a stone building. Built ten years ago, the inn is the favoured accommodation among the more privileged of the visitors. There are, however, far fewer visitors this time of year, so the inn is near empty.
The teens, gathered on the flat roof, are a panting, sweating, and bleeding mess. The sun is slowly but surely sinking below the horizon, which complicates things further for them. To say the least, they're getting frustrated.
"How long have we been running f-from them?" One girl puffs, doubled over as she tries to catch her breath. She pauses to pull a clump of dirt out of her tangled raven-black hair. All the running she had done today had not been kind to her hair. Or any of her.
She's grateful, at least, that her hair is styled short—it's basically a medieval version of a pixie cut— because even though it's extremely uncommon, and she gets a lot of odd looks about it, it's easier to manage, and it doesn't give her many issues.
The only guy in the group looks around them, a short sword clutched in his right hand. "Few hours," he responds, chest still heaving from the run. A thin trail of dry blood runs from his left temple to below his eye. "I think... it's time we face them and get it over with." He proposes, his voice low as if he doesn't want to admit it.
He points the tip of his sword to two figures running along the rooftops of the houses in the distance. They're getting closer. It's only a matter of time before they'll see them.
"Tore, are you crazy?!" Thyra, the other girl, complains through her teeth. "We might outnumber them, but they'll take us down in two seconds!"
"Look, we'll just let them come here. And we'll charge them; overwhelm them!" Tore responds louder, running a hand through his ash-brown hair as he rushes to come up with something. "This is life and death, " he acknowledges, "but we can't keep running forever!"
"I did not think dying was on the agenda today!" Asa, the black-haired girl, grumbles, running a hand down her face in exasperation. "Your idea is crazy and stupid! We'll be killed!" She rants, before sitting down, annoyed.
"And what do we do if that doesn't work?!" Thyra snaps. "What if we can't overwhelm them?!"
"W-Well then..." There's a pause, Tore's mind racing for a solution. He looks up a few seconds later. "Then, we go with plan B!" He holds up the bag he has been carrying the whole time: it was the reason they were being perused.
"Really?! You're going to give them the one thing we need to keep from them?!" Thyra yells, angry and disbelieving. They had all worked so hard to keep it away from them. To let it fall into their hands again would be...disastrous.
YOU ARE READING
Scattered One-Shots
Fanfiction**This is rated mature as a precaution: I tend to swear sometimes. There is also dark themes, such as torture, bullying, abuse, and more. To be honest, I have a feeling I'll use this book as a way to vent so... There will probably be angst etc. *...
