Ickis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
supermonster) wrote2017-10-04 12:48 pm
supermonster) wrote2017-10-04 12:48 pm
general + emotion sample
General and emotion sample written together in one prose, narrative piece. I've also posted a (late) test drive thread.
Aaahh, Halloween. A national holiday. Best day of the year. And a field day for monsters. This is the season to shine — the most fun, most inspiring, and most challenging time of year for scaring. The entire month of October leads up to that one terrifying night, so any monster would be good to prepare and practice their scares beforehand. A well-thought-out Halloween idea should scare the costumes right off those humans!
…And Ickis has got nothing. Absolutely nothing. No plan, no idea, no clue. Ickis wanders the streets of Verens, wracking his brain about how he’s supposed to even try to turn it out for Halloween on a different planet. He’s still reeling from the shock of finding himself stranded in a strange new world, and has to secure some new scaring ideas here, or else… He shudders, and a slight frost glistens around his breath, small ice crystals forming on his fur. He doesn’t want to remember the time when he and his peers stopped scaring, and started disappearing, bit-by-bit, limb-by-limb. It was awful. By the end of it, he was only a head and – and — …
The layer of thin ice forming on the pavement beneath his steps cracks suddenly, and dissipates, as he puts the thought out of his mind. That won’t happen again. He’s got this. He’ll come up with something. If this is his new home, then he’ll be the scariest monster here (if not the only?). Whatever these aliens do for Halloween, he’ll scare them their way, homestyle. I mean, when in Rome, right…?
“What do these humans do, anyway? I bet it’s even weirder than normal humans, oy,” he mutters to himself, strolling through the dusky town alone. He stands on tiptoe to peer into the windows of nearby shops — but even some are still too tall for him, and he must hop to see in clearly.
“A coffee shop? Eh. Not my cup of tea.” He shrugs, smirking, and continues on down the lane. The colors of the storefronts become slightly muted behind him as he loses interest and passes by. He’s on the lookout for a good scaring opportunity for practice. But he’s gotta choose wisely… He doesn’t even know how scaring here works yet, with these weird new powers and feelings. It could be a mess if he’s not careful. Can’t choose something too hard or too easy. He’s gotta orient himself somehow. Set himself up for success right away. And at the very least, get the lay of the land.
The smells of nearby restaurants and bakeries waft through the air, as the sun begins to set and dinnertime starts rolling around. There’s a delicious smell of sweets in the streets — maple, fried dough, waffle cones being freshly pressed in the ice cream parlor. The delectable aromas of autumn fill the air, and must charm most every other passerby… But as he approaches the fragrant ice cream parlor, the space begins to warp and spin around him. Without more than a glance inside the sweets shop, Ickis flings himself into the flowerbeds beside it, grasping his mouth and dry-heaving as if about to vomit. Clumsily searching for a safe place to be sick, Ickis blindly dives headfirst into a rose bush. With a shrill yelp, he recoils backwards in a heap, the scent of roses filling his nose and thorns still pricked to his face.
“Owwwwww, eheheh…” His whine trails off, half-laughing, half-sobbing — his painful giggle sounds a bit like Fran Drescher’s laugh, if you please. Obviously off to a great start. Small electric sparks bounce off each other on his body and the bushes as he clamors to his feet, the tiny shocks pinching like the mildest bits of lightning. It’s his first time experiencing physical pain on the island, and boy, it sucks. His ears droop low and heavy as he hangs his head, grumbles and laugh-sobs again, and storms off down the road.
Deterred by the pungent smells of human food, and generally in a bad mood now, Ickis wanders further away from the city streets, toward the farms on the outskirts of town. At least there maybe he’ll smell some manure or rotten vegetables — anything but roses and candies… As he saunters off, the ground slowly turns to mud beneath his feet, unnoticeable at first but gradual yet. The sun is setting, and his mind is stretched thin. This experience is all too much, and it’s a lot to process still. He doesn’t know exactly where he is, can’t go home, has no contact with anyone he knows, and his emotions are getting the better of him ever since he’s gotten here. He’s not normally the most restrained with his feelings, but they’re especially gripping the past three days since his arrival. The shock and worry is finally starting to catch up with him, especially after that stinkin’ rosebush.
The mud beneath his feet thickens as he trudges along. He’s walked quite a ways by now, out into the countryside on the edge of town, stewing in his bad mood. Twilight is dwindling, and the sunlight is nearly gone, all but for a faint wash of blue over the landscape — or is that in his head? He can’t tell anymore.
He comes across some unassuming farmlands off the side of a small dirt road. There’s a thick cornfield, some haystacks, and a sprawling pumpkin patch. No one is around, and nightfall is quiet out there, away from the hustle and bustle of the town. Maybe it’s a good place to calm down, think, cheer up. But as he sets down the dirt road, the sludge really starts tugging at his feet, as he sinks further into his feelings.
“What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?” he murmurs to himself, a bit frantically. “What if I never go home again? What if I never see Oblina and Krumm again? What if this place is actually an elaborate monster trap, and they stuff me — or eat me — or keep me as a pet? Oh, I’d be a terrible pet, and they’d want to cuddle me and play with my ears and treat me like some adorable little bark-and-bite and I’d have to take baths and… You never know, I mean… — oh, boy.”
As Ickis’s mood spirals and he stomps into the pumpkin patch, his feet are sticking to the ground more than ever, and he has to give his leg a great yank to keep going. The air feels humid and wet around him, but the breeze is ice cold — it puts his hair on end. The fields are fully dark now, and he’s still anxiously sloshing his way to nowhere in particular. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees some movement.
“What was that?!” he squeals, his voice both nasally and raspy. His ears shoot straight up, listening for any sound that might indicate, you know, like, his impending doom, maybe. As his eyes scan desperately over the field, they fall on a tall figure standing still amongst the corn stalks, not very far off.
“Oh, hahaha, it’s just a human…” Ickis breathes a sigh of relief, laughing to himself. And suddenly it dawns on him. “Oh! A human! My scare!” He rushes forward — or at least tries to, not without some struggle as the sludge gives way a bit. Creeping through the maze of maize, Ickis tries to pump himself up silently. A human here is just like any other human. They won’t hurt him. Well — if he doesn’t screw it up… The sludge tugs at his feet again, and he forces himself toward the figure with more resolve than before.
He’s just behind him now — steady, steady… Ickis snarls and growls menacingly. His body swells. His eyes fill with bright red blood. His fangs are now long, sharp, dripping with anticipation of terror. He raises his claws threateningly as he approaches, his body growing larger and larger… He casts a huge, dark shadow over the figure from behind. He looms — he scares! He lunges forward, letting out a fearsome roar, and gives the human the scare of their life! The field is cast in darkness, and the wind blows with an ear-piecing shrillness, almost like a howl. Thunder cracks and lightning flashes in the sky suddenly. Even the corn stalks bolt upright in fear. The human doesn’t move.
Nothing. Nada. Not even a flinch or a squeak. Ickis looms and lunges once more. Nope.
“Aren’t you scared?” he bellows. No response. “Maybe I paralyzed him with fear, ahaha…” Ickis gives it one more go, letting out another fierce roar, but the figure is totally unresponsive. He steps forward and taps the man with his claw cautiously.
“Heyyyy… This isn’t a human. It’s just a — a fake human!” The darkness dissipates slowly, the rumbles of thunder sounding farther and farther off. The corn stalks suddenly droop deeply, as Ickis’s disappointment sets in. Frustrated, he gives the figure a sharp shove. Bits of hay drop from its outstretched arms. It’s just a scarecrow. Ickis shrinks back from it, and shrinks his size as well. What a waste of good material — he gave it his best stuff…
Once more, he catches sight of some movement in the distance. There’s one more quick burst of lightning as Ickis jumps in surprise. Just behind the scarecrow, he sees a small round something crawling away. Another monster? He chases after it, running into the pumpkin patch, with only slight difficulty from his prior emotional mud. As he runs, something wraps around his ankle… He falls straight into the mud, flat on his face. He lets out a whine in pain, the electric shocks pricking his head and ears once more. He pushes himself up, and sees a vine wrapping itself around his leg, creeping up his body. Another vine reaches out for his other leg. In fact, there are moving vines everywhere, all around him, and they all seem ready to snatch him up.
Ickis screeches and tears himself free, bolting forward clumsily. Another small round creature passes in front of him, this one bigger than the last. He squeals again, and runs around it, deeper into the pumpkin patch. The lightning and thunder pick up again, and the sludge starts to get even thicker than before as Ickis panics. One, two, three — seven — twelve — there are too many pumpkins to count. And all of them are moving, their vines curling round anything they touch. Ickis’s jaw drops open as he realizes what the creatures are. Merely pumpkins. But… alive.
Just as he thinks he may calm down slightly, there’s a rustle and a rumble from behind him, out of the field. He spins around, and sees the corn stalks fold and bend as something apparently massive approaches… Ickis is now frozen, shaking, his feet trapped in the sludge as he frantically tries to pull his legs out of it. The vines still wrap around his ankles and he hurries to pull those off too. Lightning and thunder crack and roar full-force now, and Ickis starts whimpering and squealing, turning hysterical. Finally, the giant’s path through the field opens up, the corn stalks all but destroyed in its wake. And right before his eyes, coming straight toward him, is the most enormous pumpkin he’s ever seen — maybe even larger than a car. Huge. The pumpkin is quick, with long, spindly vines thrusting out, almost near enough to grab Ickis whole. He screeches in terror, yanking his feet from the mud with great force, but can’t make it very far to run away. It’s almost like quicksand now. His whines and howls reach a terrible crescendo, and just as the gigantic pumpkin nears him… The pumpkin also suddenly leaps backwards in fear of the squealing monster, and it too runs back in the direction it came, apparently terrified of Ickis. Another shattering blast of lightning fills the air, the thunder growling after, and the field fills with the light of the storm for a second. And all at once… the skies clear.
Ickis wilts. He scans the fields around him, paranoid, but relieved. The sludge beneath him starts to thin, and as soon as he can wriggle his feet, he forces himself out and runs as fast as he can back to the dirt road, back to the streets, back to town. The freezing wind chases him, howling even shriller than before. He stops outside a random store, panting, hysterical, but safe. Just as he starts to relax, the last remnants of his emotional mud releases his feet, and he stumbles, falling face-first into some bushes. He finds himself suddenly engulfed in roses and thorns once more, and the sickly sweet smells of the ice cream parlor wrap around his senses again, like creeping pumpkin vines. He didn’t even realize where he’d run off to. Miserable luck.
Ickis reels and rolls backwards, falling on his ass, covered in thorns again. He sobs to himself, and his ears droop down to his shoulders. So much for the scariest monster on the planet. He’s too shocked to even pick the thorns from his cheeks, and his whole body goes limp.
“I hate my life… ehehehe…” He groans and lets out nervous, despondent laugh. And then, with one final crack of lightning in the air, Ickis faints of fright.
Aaahh, Halloween. A national holiday. Best day of the year. And a field day for monsters. This is the season to shine — the most fun, most inspiring, and most challenging time of year for scaring. The entire month of October leads up to that one terrifying night, so any monster would be good to prepare and practice their scares beforehand. A well-thought-out Halloween idea should scare the costumes right off those humans!
…And Ickis has got nothing. Absolutely nothing. No plan, no idea, no clue. Ickis wanders the streets of Verens, wracking his brain about how he’s supposed to even try to turn it out for Halloween on a different planet. He’s still reeling from the shock of finding himself stranded in a strange new world, and has to secure some new scaring ideas here, or else… He shudders, and a slight frost glistens around his breath, small ice crystals forming on his fur. He doesn’t want to remember the time when he and his peers stopped scaring, and started disappearing, bit-by-bit, limb-by-limb. It was awful. By the end of it, he was only a head and – and — …
The layer of thin ice forming on the pavement beneath his steps cracks suddenly, and dissipates, as he puts the thought out of his mind. That won’t happen again. He’s got this. He’ll come up with something. If this is his new home, then he’ll be the scariest monster here (if not the only?). Whatever these aliens do for Halloween, he’ll scare them their way, homestyle. I mean, when in Rome, right…?
“What do these humans do, anyway? I bet it’s even weirder than normal humans, oy,” he mutters to himself, strolling through the dusky town alone. He stands on tiptoe to peer into the windows of nearby shops — but even some are still too tall for him, and he must hop to see in clearly.
“A coffee shop? Eh. Not my cup of tea.” He shrugs, smirking, and continues on down the lane. The colors of the storefronts become slightly muted behind him as he loses interest and passes by. He’s on the lookout for a good scaring opportunity for practice. But he’s gotta choose wisely… He doesn’t even know how scaring here works yet, with these weird new powers and feelings. It could be a mess if he’s not careful. Can’t choose something too hard or too easy. He’s gotta orient himself somehow. Set himself up for success right away. And at the very least, get the lay of the land.
The smells of nearby restaurants and bakeries waft through the air, as the sun begins to set and dinnertime starts rolling around. There’s a delicious smell of sweets in the streets — maple, fried dough, waffle cones being freshly pressed in the ice cream parlor. The delectable aromas of autumn fill the air, and must charm most every other passerby… But as he approaches the fragrant ice cream parlor, the space begins to warp and spin around him. Without more than a glance inside the sweets shop, Ickis flings himself into the flowerbeds beside it, grasping his mouth and dry-heaving as if about to vomit. Clumsily searching for a safe place to be sick, Ickis blindly dives headfirst into a rose bush. With a shrill yelp, he recoils backwards in a heap, the scent of roses filling his nose and thorns still pricked to his face.
“Owwwwww, eheheh…” His whine trails off, half-laughing, half-sobbing — his painful giggle sounds a bit like Fran Drescher’s laugh, if you please. Obviously off to a great start. Small electric sparks bounce off each other on his body and the bushes as he clamors to his feet, the tiny shocks pinching like the mildest bits of lightning. It’s his first time experiencing physical pain on the island, and boy, it sucks. His ears droop low and heavy as he hangs his head, grumbles and laugh-sobs again, and storms off down the road.
Deterred by the pungent smells of human food, and generally in a bad mood now, Ickis wanders further away from the city streets, toward the farms on the outskirts of town. At least there maybe he’ll smell some manure or rotten vegetables — anything but roses and candies… As he saunters off, the ground slowly turns to mud beneath his feet, unnoticeable at first but gradual yet. The sun is setting, and his mind is stretched thin. This experience is all too much, and it’s a lot to process still. He doesn’t know exactly where he is, can’t go home, has no contact with anyone he knows, and his emotions are getting the better of him ever since he’s gotten here. He’s not normally the most restrained with his feelings, but they’re especially gripping the past three days since his arrival. The shock and worry is finally starting to catch up with him, especially after that stinkin’ rosebush.
The mud beneath his feet thickens as he trudges along. He’s walked quite a ways by now, out into the countryside on the edge of town, stewing in his bad mood. Twilight is dwindling, and the sunlight is nearly gone, all but for a faint wash of blue over the landscape — or is that in his head? He can’t tell anymore.
He comes across some unassuming farmlands off the side of a small dirt road. There’s a thick cornfield, some haystacks, and a sprawling pumpkin patch. No one is around, and nightfall is quiet out there, away from the hustle and bustle of the town. Maybe it’s a good place to calm down, think, cheer up. But as he sets down the dirt road, the sludge really starts tugging at his feet, as he sinks further into his feelings.
“What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?” he murmurs to himself, a bit frantically. “What if I never go home again? What if I never see Oblina and Krumm again? What if this place is actually an elaborate monster trap, and they stuff me — or eat me — or keep me as a pet? Oh, I’d be a terrible pet, and they’d want to cuddle me and play with my ears and treat me like some adorable little bark-and-bite and I’d have to take baths and… You never know, I mean… — oh, boy.”
As Ickis’s mood spirals and he stomps into the pumpkin patch, his feet are sticking to the ground more than ever, and he has to give his leg a great yank to keep going. The air feels humid and wet around him, but the breeze is ice cold — it puts his hair on end. The fields are fully dark now, and he’s still anxiously sloshing his way to nowhere in particular. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees some movement.
“What was that?!” he squeals, his voice both nasally and raspy. His ears shoot straight up, listening for any sound that might indicate, you know, like, his impending doom, maybe. As his eyes scan desperately over the field, they fall on a tall figure standing still amongst the corn stalks, not very far off.
“Oh, hahaha, it’s just a human…” Ickis breathes a sigh of relief, laughing to himself. And suddenly it dawns on him. “Oh! A human! My scare!” He rushes forward — or at least tries to, not without some struggle as the sludge gives way a bit. Creeping through the maze of maize, Ickis tries to pump himself up silently. A human here is just like any other human. They won’t hurt him. Well — if he doesn’t screw it up… The sludge tugs at his feet again, and he forces himself toward the figure with more resolve than before.
He’s just behind him now — steady, steady… Ickis snarls and growls menacingly. His body swells. His eyes fill with bright red blood. His fangs are now long, sharp, dripping with anticipation of terror. He raises his claws threateningly as he approaches, his body growing larger and larger… He casts a huge, dark shadow over the figure from behind. He looms — he scares! He lunges forward, letting out a fearsome roar, and gives the human the scare of their life! The field is cast in darkness, and the wind blows with an ear-piecing shrillness, almost like a howl. Thunder cracks and lightning flashes in the sky suddenly. Even the corn stalks bolt upright in fear. The human doesn’t move.
Nothing. Nada. Not even a flinch or a squeak. Ickis looms and lunges once more. Nope.
“Aren’t you scared?” he bellows. No response. “Maybe I paralyzed him with fear, ahaha…” Ickis gives it one more go, letting out another fierce roar, but the figure is totally unresponsive. He steps forward and taps the man with his claw cautiously.
“Heyyyy… This isn’t a human. It’s just a — a fake human!” The darkness dissipates slowly, the rumbles of thunder sounding farther and farther off. The corn stalks suddenly droop deeply, as Ickis’s disappointment sets in. Frustrated, he gives the figure a sharp shove. Bits of hay drop from its outstretched arms. It’s just a scarecrow. Ickis shrinks back from it, and shrinks his size as well. What a waste of good material — he gave it his best stuff…
Once more, he catches sight of some movement in the distance. There’s one more quick burst of lightning as Ickis jumps in surprise. Just behind the scarecrow, he sees a small round something crawling away. Another monster? He chases after it, running into the pumpkin patch, with only slight difficulty from his prior emotional mud. As he runs, something wraps around his ankle… He falls straight into the mud, flat on his face. He lets out a whine in pain, the electric shocks pricking his head and ears once more. He pushes himself up, and sees a vine wrapping itself around his leg, creeping up his body. Another vine reaches out for his other leg. In fact, there are moving vines everywhere, all around him, and they all seem ready to snatch him up.
Ickis screeches and tears himself free, bolting forward clumsily. Another small round creature passes in front of him, this one bigger than the last. He squeals again, and runs around it, deeper into the pumpkin patch. The lightning and thunder pick up again, and the sludge starts to get even thicker than before as Ickis panics. One, two, three — seven — twelve — there are too many pumpkins to count. And all of them are moving, their vines curling round anything they touch. Ickis’s jaw drops open as he realizes what the creatures are. Merely pumpkins. But… alive.
Just as he thinks he may calm down slightly, there’s a rustle and a rumble from behind him, out of the field. He spins around, and sees the corn stalks fold and bend as something apparently massive approaches… Ickis is now frozen, shaking, his feet trapped in the sludge as he frantically tries to pull his legs out of it. The vines still wrap around his ankles and he hurries to pull those off too. Lightning and thunder crack and roar full-force now, and Ickis starts whimpering and squealing, turning hysterical. Finally, the giant’s path through the field opens up, the corn stalks all but destroyed in its wake. And right before his eyes, coming straight toward him, is the most enormous pumpkin he’s ever seen — maybe even larger than a car. Huge. The pumpkin is quick, with long, spindly vines thrusting out, almost near enough to grab Ickis whole. He screeches in terror, yanking his feet from the mud with great force, but can’t make it very far to run away. It’s almost like quicksand now. His whines and howls reach a terrible crescendo, and just as the gigantic pumpkin nears him… The pumpkin also suddenly leaps backwards in fear of the squealing monster, and it too runs back in the direction it came, apparently terrified of Ickis. Another shattering blast of lightning fills the air, the thunder growling after, and the field fills with the light of the storm for a second. And all at once… the skies clear.
Ickis wilts. He scans the fields around him, paranoid, but relieved. The sludge beneath him starts to thin, and as soon as he can wriggle his feet, he forces himself out and runs as fast as he can back to the dirt road, back to the streets, back to town. The freezing wind chases him, howling even shriller than before. He stops outside a random store, panting, hysterical, but safe. Just as he starts to relax, the last remnants of his emotional mud releases his feet, and he stumbles, falling face-first into some bushes. He finds himself suddenly engulfed in roses and thorns once more, and the sickly sweet smells of the ice cream parlor wrap around his senses again, like creeping pumpkin vines. He didn’t even realize where he’d run off to. Miserable luck.
Ickis reels and rolls backwards, falling on his ass, covered in thorns again. He sobs to himself, and his ears droop down to his shoulders. So much for the scariest monster on the planet. He’s too shocked to even pick the thorns from his cheeks, and his whole body goes limp.
“I hate my life… ehehehe…” He groans and lets out nervous, despondent laugh. And then, with one final crack of lightning in the air, Ickis faints of fright.