Five Lines Tag!
Thank you for the tag, @willtheweaver (here)!
I'll go with some lines from Crash Stardom! and What Lurks In The Hollow!
A line describing a location: (What Lurks In The Hollow)
It wasn’t long until the wheels slowly bumped to a halt over the gravel in front of what once was the family lakehouse. Now… well it was still a house - in that, it was still standing and wasn’t yet a complete ruin. But that’s about all that could be said for the place’s homely appeal.
The paint over the wooden walls had chipped away with the wind, eaten by time and weather, while at least two of the visible first and second-floor windows were either cracked or broken. Its wide porch was covered in dust, scattered leaves, and crumpled fliers, and the grass that peeked around the house to the woods that led down to the lake behind it was dead and overgrown.
A line that is a lie: (Crash Stardom!)
There was the familiar sound of a door unlocking and the barely noticeable creak of the handle, as steps swiftly shuffled inside, into the penthouse. Noah scrambled up from where he was laying on the couch mindlessly scrolling for what had to have been at least 2 hours, only to see Tristan staggering into the living room.
And his brother looked...different.
His usual confident swagger was replaced by uneasy jittering, deep, dark circles under his eyes, pupils clearly blown wide for some odd reason. His skin was paler than usual, makeup smudged. There was an attempt at his usual smirk as he greeted Noah, but it felt hollow.
Noah opened and closed his mouth a few times before he actually managed to speak, "Tristan, you're late. Very late. It's almost 3 AM. And you don't look okay either. What's going on?" His eyes narrowed, and he noticed something on the lapel of his brother's jacket. It looked like sparkles of white powder. "And what is that?"
Tristan's smile faltered for a moment, and he quickly moved to brush off the evidence as if it could erase it from existence, "Oh, this? Must be some sugar from my coffee." He chuckled. It sounded like gravel, and Noah didn't like the way Tristan seemed to look away from him, "You know I like my latte extra sweet!"
Noah's eyes narrowed further in suspicion, "But it doesn't -"
"It's sugar," Tristan cut him off, voice louder than he expected, startling them both. He took a deep breath, forcing another smile, "Just sugar. I must've wiped my hands on my jacket after making my coffee. Just that. Okay, kid?"
His words, as careful as he was to keep them gentle, held a clipped edge that made it more than clear he really didn't talk about it today or ever again.
Noah sighed, not at all conviced but not wanting an argument today, "Alright, alright." He gestured dismissively, "Let's just...watch some TV show or something."
Tristan's smile grew more genuine, and there was an innocent spark of joy to his eyes that made Noah feel a bit lighter as the taller man beelined it for the couch, "Yay! I'm picking the movie."
A line about exhaustion: (What Lurks In The Hollow)
Her legs were burning by the time they started to reach a clearing. Over her shoulder, the garbled growling of whatever the fuck was the creature chasing them mixed with their own ragged, panicked breaths as they scrambled forward as fast as humanly possible, not caring at how the thickets and brambles seemed to scrape at their exposed skin leaving shallow cuts.
Amy tried to ignore how the small branches and vines seemed to be moving on their own, as if alive and reaching to hold them back. She couldn't ignore it. Her hand was still gripping Zach's arm as tightly as possible as he ran beside her. She didn't want either of them to fall.
She made a mental note to apologize for any bruising later.
Then, they finally plunged out of the woods, jumping into the lakeshore's grassy meadow and letting themselves tumble out as rocks and dirt gave way underfoot. They kept moving forward, half running half falling, until the forest was far, far behind them.
Sparing a quickly glance behind them, Amy saw the creature's sillhoutte fade into the treeline, as if it were nothing but a shadow. It didn't step out of the edge of the woods, though it seemed to stomp around angrily, letting out a shrill, frustrated hiss, before disappearing for good.
Only then did she let herself collapse onto the ground, and Zach was soon to follow, falling beside her on a crumpled heap that accidentally sent her rolling an inch more away, after almost awkwardly falling on top of her.
They didn't speak for a long, long moment, trying to catch their breath as if their airways were dried up by desert sand. Amy was shaking, though she couldn't know if it was out of fear from seeing an eldritch abomination come to life or exhaustion from the sudden, unwelcome death cardio. Probably both.
When she finally lifted her head off the ground, the words slipped past her lips in a blur, "...W-What the in the hell was that?"
A comforting line: (Crash Stardom!)
The damp cold seemed to creep into his bones from every wall around them and burrow itself into his soul. It did nothing to soothe the way the melted skin on his back made his every breath feel like death crawling closer. Honestly it hurt so much that for a moment he wished it was.
But then his ears twitched towards the sound of quiet whimpering that made his heart clench and shatter. His eyes flew open, a blood red glow lighting the moonlit darkness of the cell.
Aspen was crying.
He hated that she was crying. But he knew why she was - he knew all too well. Those bastards made her watch, and he swore he'd tear every one of their throats once he was healed enough.
For now, he couldn't. He couldn't even move, let alone fight. All Beck could do was try to help her. And so he did. His voice was coarse like sandpaper, from all the screams he held back, and there were tears in his own eyes, but he pretended nothing was wrong.
"Hey... sunflower," He spoke the nickname in their native language, and that made her look up, her arms still wrapped up around her knees like a music box wound up too tight.
His head lolled to the side, turning to her, trying to coax Aspen to look him in the eyes. Beck knew she wanted to help. But there was nothing she could feasibly do. Not about the burns from the silver. Not about the cell. Or about the Reapers. So he came up with something harmless instead, a distraction. Maybe a small measure of hope, or comfort. "How... how about you do those little braids in my hair..." He keened, speaking felt like the air was being punched out of his lungs, but he kept going, in their language, as he gestured to his long, equally blood red hair that had once been a source of pride, and now was just another matted mess, "Just l-like you used to? If you can smile a little bit, I'll even tell you something...very cool."
Beck watched her with rapt attention - for a moment, the teen didn't respond at all, stuck in place, eyes distant. But then, a spark of movement, and she gave him the tiniest of nods, shuffling to his side. Only then he let himself breathe a little bit easier, even though the burns in his back made him regret it almost as soon as he did.
A line about the unexpected (I'm going with someone getting surprised for this one lol): (What Lurks In The Hollow)
With all of that out of the way, Amy made her way back downstairs, slower this time. Before long, she'd reached the back door and walked out into the yard, all dry earth and dead grass, and spotted Dylan standing by the basement hatch, with his back turned to the direction she came from. A mischievous idea popped into her mind, and Amy quietly stepped through the threshold, avoiding the creaking wooden steps beneath and skipping to the raw dirt outside. She swiftly crossed the distance between them before he could turn around, careful to minimize the crunching of the gravel beneath the soles of her sneakers, until she stood right behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hi, Dylan!" She exclaimed, breaking the silence in a child-like fashion, much like a jumpscare from a videogame. And it had the intended effect, with Dylan practically jumping out of his own skin with a short yelp, his hand flying to his chest like an old lady clutching her pearls, before whirling around to face her, startled out of his train of thought.
"What the fuck, Amy!?" Dylan shouts, startled, while his sister just giggles at the sight, "You almost gave me a heart attack - we're in the middle of the woods and you know it gives me the creeps. Fucking hell." He grumbles, through gritted teeth.
Amy chuckled, "C'mon. It was the perfect opportunity - I wasn't about to waste it!" She said, cherishing the last of the situation's humor before letting the matter go, as Dylan's mutterings of annoyance continued, "So. Why were you standing here like that? Cosplaying a scarecrow?" The teen asked, with a smirk.
Dylan rolled his eyes, "No. It's that we've got another goddamn problem. I managed to get the generator to turn the lights on, that you can see but," He paused, reaching into the basement hatch and prying it open again, the rusted metal screeching as it moved, revealing what used to be the path into the basement, "I can't get to the boiler room down there. The fucking stairs are broken."
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