The young princess and the Warrior from another world
Not sure I can call this a prompt (technically speaking) since its born out of my love for manga(Japanese Comics) then a prompt idea but it works the same way so here it is. Tada!
“Gee kiddie’s I’m all out of bubble gum, guess I better go collect,” wide eyed and bushed tailed the recruits watch the fully plated commando toss an empty mag into the crater they called a firing position, “Well I’m gonna stretch my knees, you boy’s do papa a real solid and stay the crap out of papa’s way, oookaaa?” The commando leaps over the crater, Mr. Grenade baking like a hot potato, feeling disenfranchised with their current relationship the commando slugs Mr. grenade into the air enjoying the pleasant pitter pater of fragmentation that peck across his combat plastic.
He piles into the pill box sidearm slugging nine-millimeters into the baby faced recruits. Brushing the dust of his suit, a whistle breaks the usual, kabam and booming of the battle field. He looks up.
The outline of very large bullets speckle the sky, “Bite me.”
The underbrush gives way to a slight figure her girlish face off set by the royal blue uniform that sucks her in and complimented by her red hair that curves rather than falls down to her neck.
Cradling a box of crayons the young heir to the Noble House of El pushes away the brushes to the sunlit clearing. When the spring sun came down through the green foliage it felt like a fairytale where her brother’s weren’t shouting and father was still here. Tucking the box to her chest as she pushes through the final branches she stops for a moment. In her fairy tale clearing there was now a statue. What looks like grey marble covers the knightish statue, the helm was round enough like a man at arms but without a metal lip to block out the sun, rather, it has a strange green visor made of stained glass looping around it. Along with the statue a bitter rocky smell lingers along the clearing. A finch pecks at the visor.
It looked like there was a face behind the glass, a trickle of something like blood running down its face, crayon box stuck to her chest she creeps down to its level the tall grass of the clearing soaking her royal blue pants, the gold braids of her suite coat dangling between her and the vegetation.
The warmth of the sun soaks along the grey of the helmet, it’s not baked like steel, more like a rock but smoother. Lifting with her spare hand she pushes the unusually helmet up.
“Hey there ho there, thought I was a goner,” the girl lets out a yelp as a gauntleted hand catches her, “Well, angel’s sure our touchy aren’t they? Shit am I dying in heaven?” the figure looks down to his chest red dripping from a rip in his armor, “Well crap,” he gets up towering over the girl, “Angel, I don’t know why in heaven’s name you haven’t screamed but, ya, don’t,” the commando snaps his finger to the girl. He waits a second. “Aren’t you going to scream?” the man asks cocking his head to the side, “Whelp never though much of heaven anyway, mamma never thought I was a bright boy, now my mommy issues aside. Which way to hell, got some business I need to tend to.”
The commando lets go of the princess evaluating his surroundings.
“What are you doing in my garden!”
The commando looks over to the girl’s sudden outburst, anger visible between her jittering eyes.
Honestly one of the writings I’ve done that I’ve just had fun with. Lot less worrying about originality of character and more about slap stick and being a knucklehead. I enjoyed, hope you enjoy it, peace out, Ransom.
Mad Man's House 