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Two new drabbles :3
Trench
By: rezrabbit
Series: Keroro Gunso
Rating: PG?
POV: Giroro
The light isn’t strong, but the steady dribble doesn’t stop, they spin in the open water, small shapes flowering, and spinning. The space between him and them seems to be an eternal drip, drip, drip, drip.
They move faster and faster, the light and the dark colors, the water churns with their small bodies, and finally they break free.
Water splashes and spins and spins and spins until he isn’t sure what he’s looking at anymore, the world clenching in on what he can see.
The leaf he’s sitting on is close; he leans forward and dips a foot into the water. They pull him in, the deep ancestral things pulling him down, one dark, dark color that sucks in the light and burns like smoldering pain.
Too cold, and too clear, but the featheriness in his stomach doesn’t stop, not even when they start to rip and tear, dark bodies wiggling, the water isn’t that anymore, it’s just them, it’s just them nipping and wanting him to…
Giroro wakes up, the cots are occupied, Keroro meeping about soda and glue…the lights flicker out for a moment as they pass by a stretch of space without the light of stars.
He shivers, and breaths in the humid air…what was he thinking…
Faces
By: rezrabbit
Series: Keroro Gunso
Rating: PG 13
POV: Giroro
The pond yawns open like a chasm, his blood drips down; it’s hypnotizing, he tries to grab on tighter, but the groves on the leaf just slice and cut deeper, just lightly enough to burn and sear with their sap, but not enough to make him fall off faster.
It doesn’t dissolve, the droplets cling to the water, the light bending them into life fast, sharp lighted bubbles, their symbols appearing. The eggs shiver, the water splashes and they begin to move together, and finally they rip through their shells and breathe.
It’s caked with blood, heavy, and he doesn’t want to do it, but he’s jut so weak from all that blood he’s lost, he can hear them calling, calling, calling, not far away at all anymore.
He tries to lift his head, groggily, pain shooting from everywhere he’s touched it, and he wants to find a way out now, while he’s coherent…
His foot touches the water, and they start to swallow it all, tasting his blood, his fear. They devour each other, he can see them now, and they’re pulling him in too, and the water feels like acid on his raw skin, they don’t let him take a breath when he’s in.
It’s like broken jagged pieces of ice, the fear makes him heave, and they way they bite makes him want to just black out, but it’s clearer now, he can make out every color every face…
Giroro wakes up, Keroro looks up at his friend, “So do you think you’re ready for this mission?”
He looks, face smooth, unbroken “I don’t know, I mean I think we’re all a bunch of clowns, but I think we can make it”
They laugh, their platoon is ready of course, and they are sure of victory, Giroro wants to know what this dream is about, why it’s poisoning his days, he’s sure to of seen those same symbols before somewhere, but tis’ almost gone, the only thing he can firmly grasp about that dream…
That icy cold feeling, that something, dreadfully wrong…
He remembers a few days later…and a few years after.
Tamama finds Keroro to be a hero.
Trench
By: rezrabbit
Series: Keroro Gunso
Rating: PG?
POV: Giroro
The light isn’t strong, but the steady dribble doesn’t stop, they spin in the open water, small shapes flowering, and spinning. The space between him and them seems to be an eternal drip, drip, drip, drip.
They move faster and faster, the light and the dark colors, the water churns with their small bodies, and finally they break free.
Water splashes and spins and spins and spins until he isn’t sure what he’s looking at anymore, the world clenching in on what he can see.
The leaf he’s sitting on is close; he leans forward and dips a foot into the water. They pull him in, the deep ancestral things pulling him down, one dark, dark color that sucks in the light and burns like smoldering pain.
Too cold, and too clear, but the featheriness in his stomach doesn’t stop, not even when they start to rip and tear, dark bodies wiggling, the water isn’t that anymore, it’s just them, it’s just them nipping and wanting him to…
Giroro wakes up, the cots are occupied, Keroro meeping about soda and glue…the lights flicker out for a moment as they pass by a stretch of space without the light of stars.
He shivers, and breaths in the humid air…what was he thinking…
Faces
By: rezrabbit
Series: Keroro Gunso
Rating: PG 13
POV: Giroro
The pond yawns open like a chasm, his blood drips down; it’s hypnotizing, he tries to grab on tighter, but the groves on the leaf just slice and cut deeper, just lightly enough to burn and sear with their sap, but not enough to make him fall off faster.
It doesn’t dissolve, the droplets cling to the water, the light bending them into life fast, sharp lighted bubbles, their symbols appearing. The eggs shiver, the water splashes and they begin to move together, and finally they rip through their shells and breathe.
It’s caked with blood, heavy, and he doesn’t want to do it, but he’s jut so weak from all that blood he’s lost, he can hear them calling, calling, calling, not far away at all anymore.
He tries to lift his head, groggily, pain shooting from everywhere he’s touched it, and he wants to find a way out now, while he’s coherent…
His foot touches the water, and they start to swallow it all, tasting his blood, his fear. They devour each other, he can see them now, and they’re pulling him in too, and the water feels like acid on his raw skin, they don’t let him take a breath when he’s in.
It’s like broken jagged pieces of ice, the fear makes him heave, and they way they bite makes him want to just black out, but it’s clearer now, he can make out every color every face…
Giroro wakes up, Keroro looks up at his friend, “So do you think you’re ready for this mission?”
He looks, face smooth, unbroken “I don’t know, I mean I think we’re all a bunch of clowns, but I think we can make it”
They laugh, their platoon is ready of course, and they are sure of victory, Giroro wants to know what this dream is about, why it’s poisoning his days, he’s sure to of seen those same symbols before somewhere, but tis’ almost gone, the only thing he can firmly grasp about that dream…
That icy cold feeling, that something, dreadfully wrong…
He remembers a few days later…and a few years after.
Tamama finds Keroro to be a hero.