Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2010-06-10 10:48 am
rionaleonhart) wrote2010-06-10 10:48 am
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Fanfiction: Wander and Agro (Shadow of the Colossus, one-sentence fics).
A while ago, I attempted a set of one-sentence fics about Wander and Agro, the main character of Shadow of the Colossus and his horse, for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1sentence. I failed, because Shadow of the Colossus is the sparsest game you can imagine and there simply isn't enough material in it for fifty one-sentence fics. (Also, I'm such a dialogue person, so it's really difficult for me to write something completely devoid of speech.)
I did manage just over half the Alpha prompt table, though, so here are some Wander-and-Agro sentences for you. Posted in chronological order.
touch
Her heartbeat is strong beneath his palm: a reminder that he is not the sole visitor to these lands, empty and beautiful and dead.
bonds
She refuses to climb the spiralling path to the bridge, and that means there’s no going back; he can’t leave this place without her.
confusion
The black tendrils find him like a bolt through the heart, and is this death, is he dying, will she know he’s gone?
name
These lands seem the world of a dream, vast and silent, and the sound of his own voice calling his horse is beginning to feel like the only thing tying him to reality.
potatoes
There is little food for Agro here, and he worries about her; it will occur to him only later, bleeding darkness and noticing for the first time his unnatural lack of hunger, that he should have been worrying about himself.
fear
The path along the cliffside is barely wide enough for Agro’s hooves, and a slip could send them both plunging into dark water below, but he knows he has nothing to fear.
telephone
No matter where she is, she hears him.
innocence
He frowns as he watches her cropping the grass; the food of these lands changes a being, he can feel it, and, although he has cast aside all that he was before, she is already all that he wants her to be.
speed
Hour after hour galloping across an empty world, following the light of the sword, and he wonders whether it will ever be over, and he wonders whether that’s what he really wants.
moon
It is never night in these lands; they sleep in the shade between the mountains, Agro lying down so her master can rest against her flank.
hell
The lizard-Colossus dies on its back, and for a moment he feels himself falter; they aren’t human, he tells himself, their lives are irrelevant, but his horse is waiting for him and he knows it’s no excuse at all.
market
He had a life before this – he must have had a life before this, but his memory is fading to nothing more than brief flashes of people and places, and it is becoming harder to believe there was ever anything but the open land and the light of the sword and the beat of hooves beneath him.
lightning
The creature breathes lightning, Agro buckles, and his thought is for her before himself.
hair
He feels he is forgetting himself – were his hands always veined with black? was his hair always this colour? – but she is constant, she does not change, she is the one thing he can rely on.
comfort
Chased by an enormous sand-beast, its burning orange eyes feet behind them, but he is not afraid, because he is not alone.
home
Some part of him has always known they can’t go back; he has trespassed and she is cursed and it’s all too much to undo, and if he survives and if she lives it will be the three of them for ever, here and alone, but the three of them is all he needs.
sun
The desert is blinding; he can barely see to steer, but he trusts her to carry him where he needs to go.
sensual
He presses his face against her mane and breathes, feeling his blood crawling through his veins, and he knows he isn’t going to survive this.
pain
She hesitates as they approach the stone bridge, but he presses her on; they’re so close.
tears
He stands at the edge for almost an hour, barely able to breathe.
rain
The final adversary’s fur is slick with rain and he can barely hold on, he can barely concentrate; a life-or-death struggle with a creature ten thousand times his size, and his mind is back at the bridge.
completion
There is no elation as he drives home the final blow; he holds grimly onto the head-fur of the dying beast and stares at the ground, blurred by dust and distance, and all he can see is her fall.
death
His eyes stray from the still form on the altar to the empty stairs as he chokes on darkness, and his fear is not that he is dying; it is that he is dying alone.
devotion
She survives because she has to survive; she returns because she has to return.
supernova
The pool of light burns as it strips away his darkness, and by now he is so eaten up by darkness that he fears there will be nothing left of him – but something remains, some shred of consciousness to hear footsteps and think Dormin keeps its promises, to hear faltering hooves and think she came back for me.
forever
He wakes sitting against one of the stone altars dotting the land, and Agro is flicking her ears uneasily, as if she too can feel the strange sense of déjà vu.
1sentence. I failed, because Shadow of the Colossus is the sparsest game you can imagine and there simply isn't enough material in it for fifty one-sentence fics. (Also, I'm such a dialogue person, so it's really difficult for me to write something completely devoid of speech.)I did manage just over half the Alpha prompt table, though, so here are some Wander-and-Agro sentences for you. Posted in chronological order.
Her heartbeat is strong beneath his palm: a reminder that he is not the sole visitor to these lands, empty and beautiful and dead.
She refuses to climb the spiralling path to the bridge, and that means there’s no going back; he can’t leave this place without her.
The black tendrils find him like a bolt through the heart, and is this death, is he dying, will she know he’s gone?
These lands seem the world of a dream, vast and silent, and the sound of his own voice calling his horse is beginning to feel like the only thing tying him to reality.
There is little food for Agro here, and he worries about her; it will occur to him only later, bleeding darkness and noticing for the first time his unnatural lack of hunger, that he should have been worrying about himself.
The path along the cliffside is barely wide enough for Agro’s hooves, and a slip could send them both plunging into dark water below, but he knows he has nothing to fear.
No matter where she is, she hears him.
He frowns as he watches her cropping the grass; the food of these lands changes a being, he can feel it, and, although he has cast aside all that he was before, she is already all that he wants her to be.
Hour after hour galloping across an empty world, following the light of the sword, and he wonders whether it will ever be over, and he wonders whether that’s what he really wants.
It is never night in these lands; they sleep in the shade between the mountains, Agro lying down so her master can rest against her flank.
The lizard-Colossus dies on its back, and for a moment he feels himself falter; they aren’t human, he tells himself, their lives are irrelevant, but his horse is waiting for him and he knows it’s no excuse at all.
He had a life before this – he must have had a life before this, but his memory is fading to nothing more than brief flashes of people and places, and it is becoming harder to believe there was ever anything but the open land and the light of the sword and the beat of hooves beneath him.
The creature breathes lightning, Agro buckles, and his thought is for her before himself.
He feels he is forgetting himself – were his hands always veined with black? was his hair always this colour? – but she is constant, she does not change, she is the one thing he can rely on.
Chased by an enormous sand-beast, its burning orange eyes feet behind them, but he is not afraid, because he is not alone.
Some part of him has always known they can’t go back; he has trespassed and she is cursed and it’s all too much to undo, and if he survives and if she lives it will be the three of them for ever, here and alone, but the three of them is all he needs.
The desert is blinding; he can barely see to steer, but he trusts her to carry him where he needs to go.
He presses his face against her mane and breathes, feeling his blood crawling through his veins, and he knows he isn’t going to survive this.
She hesitates as they approach the stone bridge, but he presses her on; they’re so close.
He stands at the edge for almost an hour, barely able to breathe.
The final adversary’s fur is slick with rain and he can barely hold on, he can barely concentrate; a life-or-death struggle with a creature ten thousand times his size, and his mind is back at the bridge.
There is no elation as he drives home the final blow; he holds grimly onto the head-fur of the dying beast and stares at the ground, blurred by dust and distance, and all he can see is her fall.
His eyes stray from the still form on the altar to the empty stairs as he chokes on darkness, and his fear is not that he is dying; it is that he is dying alone.
She survives because she has to survive; she returns because she has to return.
The pool of light burns as it strips away his darkness, and by now he is so eaten up by darkness that he fears there will be nothing left of him – but something remains, some shred of consciousness to hear footsteps and think Dormin keeps its promises, to hear faltering hooves and think she came back for me.
He wakes sitting against one of the stone altars dotting the land, and Agro is flicking her ears uneasily, as if she too can feel the strange sense of déjà vu.