Shnuckles

28 May 2014, 01:05

My next fanfic I'm going all out! I'm talking nicely writtend chapters that don't feel rushed - if 3000ish words seems to get to the point to fast xD- so I'm trying to make my story nice and long. 6000 words a chapter Here's what I have so far on Ch.1! I only just started it and I haven't really done any spelling and grammar checking xD

a short look

WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER

Chapter 1

Beginning Of A Legend Hiccup Haddock the Third is a good kid. He always does his best at everything he does. When asked to clean a shield, you know that your shield will come back to you cleaner than any other shield on Berk. He always told the truth and always felt the need to prove himself to his father and to the other grownups. Everywhere the boy went his sharp green eyes looked at the world and didn't see the hate and the problems, but what could be done and the possibilities that each and everyday held and every soul that could unleash them. He himself wanted to be one of the few lucky souls who got to unleash the possibilities, to be the one people looked at and say, “There he is, the boy who changed Berk.” He fantasized about that day; the moment someone looks at him and is proud to have him in there tribe will be the best day of his life. The moment his father looks down at him and says, “I'm the luckiest father in the world.” That would be the day he would see himself as something more than useless.

~ ~ ~

A small seven year old boy hopped down rather large stairs. Each one was to steep for his little legs to reach on their own, so hopping down each one was his best option. Each wooden step creaked along with a small tap when the boy's feet hit the wood. On the last step he trips and he gives a frightened yelp. The lad falls to the floor, he couldn't get his arms out in front of him in time and lands onto his face. He grits his teeth, trying not to cry. His father would just think less of him if he wakes up to the boy crying. Instead, he takes his place at the table, gently rubbing his nose, sniffling every now and then.

The boy was Hiccup. He lived on the island of Berk; it was very respected back when vikings once sailed the seas. A mop of auburn, threatening to be the color red, was what the boy called hair. It was morning and he had just woken up; he needed to fix his bedhead before he went out into the village. He sported normal viking pants along with the normal color, brown. His eyes were his second most noticeable feature. They were as green as the forest and always seemed to be filled with wonderment and adventure. Though his face didn't show it, his eyes always seemed to be smiling at something. The most notable thing about Hiccup was his size. He's much smaller than anyone that age should be. His father is hoping and praying that he would grow.

The house he called home was the nicest one on Berk. But that wasn't anything to brag about. It was only because his father – Stoick the Vast – was chief, that the house was so nice. A nice fire pit was built into the ground farther back into the home, but it was still affective at heating up the whole house, even the upstairs. The table was big and tall, the chairs weren't tall enough for Hiccup to sit on his butt and eat, so he resulted to sitting on his knees. It didn't bother him. Three chairs were placed at the table; one for his father, one for him and one for his mother. She was no longer with the family – a dragon had captured her when Hiccup was still sleeping in the cradle – but they kept it there as a reminder that she once was there with them. The stairs were off to the side of the house and it led to Hiccup's room. Other than some cabinets on the first floor and Stoick's room that was hidden in the back, the house was very modest. Especially if you compare it to some of the houses other chief in the archipelago have.

~ ~ ~

A door was swung open at the back of the house. It wasn't the backdoor, but Stoick's bedroom door. The viking stumbled out, looking a little more weather-worn than usual. His eyes were sunken and seemed to look not at you, but through you. Looking at the world as if it was burnt to ash. Below the eye, Hiccup noted, seemed to more bags than there was the other day. Hiccup's mood went a little ways south when he remembered the day before. It was just a typical day, or, it was about to be the end of a typical day. Right before the sun set, the dragons decided they were hungry and invaded Berk. It was a... well, lets just say not everyone on Berk was ready for the attack.

The viking chief gently swung the door shut, a faint sound signaled that it locked. Stoick took sat in the same chair he always sits in. It was almost an unspoken rule in the household; to sit in your chair, the same chair, every time you take rest – or eat – at the table. Their were a few other chairs spread throughout the house that were pulled over to the table if the two had company.

Stoick's chair squeaked as he got situated at the table. He looked at Hiccup looking as tired as ever. The previous night had been hard, that much Hiccup could tell. He was hiding in his room that day when the dragons attacked. He heard yells and roars and the battle cries of the battle. He heard the crackle of fire burning houses down. The explosions that the dragons' fireballs cause on impact reached the young soul, as well. By the sounds of the fight, it was safe to say that not all of the vikings made it out alive.

“Morning, son,” Stoick said in his deep, gruff voice, although it was softer due to the tiredness in his voice. He must have had very little sleep.

Hiccup flashed his father a smile.

The smile warmed Stoick up more than he thought. With the death and destruction that he witnessed last night, he didn't really know how glad he was that Hiccup was safe at home. That thought made him realize something else; countless houses had been burnt down the night before, along with some of the occupants. If his house was burnt down, than Hiccup would have never had been able to give that small, warm smile. He was a lucky man and he knew it, but he often had a hard time showing it to his son.

“Morning,” Hiccup replied in his small voice that was deprived of the accent that the other vikings had. Stoick new his boy was a little odd and different, but he loved him for it, even if it could be a little annoying and frustrating at times.

Stoick got up from his seat. “I'm going to go get some firewood to make a fire,” he said. Hiccup sunk into his seat and studied his hands, his face slipped into a tiny frown. Stoick gave him a knowing look, his mood lightening. “You want to come help?” Hiccup's face brightened; a huge, toothy, grin made it's onto his face and his eyes seemed to brighten. He shook his head vigorously and hopped off the chair with enthusiasm. It wasn't very often he was able to help his father, since most of his duties were for grownups. Hiccup's excitement to help made Stoick laugh.

cometotheberkside

28 May 2014, 01:21

Shnuckles

28 May 2014, 01:05

My next fanfic I'm going all out! I'm talking nicely writtend chapters that don't feel rushed - if 3000ish words seems to get to the point to fast xD- so I'm trying to make my story nice and long. 6000 words a chapter Here's what I have so far on Ch.1! I only just started it and I haven't really done any spelling and grammar checking xD

a short look

WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER

Chapter 1

Beginning Of A Legend Hiccup Haddock the Third is a good kid. He always does his best at everything he does. When asked to clean a shield, you know that your shield will come back to you cleaner than any other shield on Berk. He always told the truth and always felt the need to prove himself to his father and to the other grownups. Everywhere the boy went his sharp green eyes looked at the world and didn't see the hate and the problems, but what could be done and the possibilities that each and everyday held and every soul that could unleash them. He himself wanted to be one of the few lucky souls who got to unleash the possibilities, to be the one people looked at and say, “There he is, the boy who changed Berk.” He fantasized about that day; the moment someone looks at him and is proud to have him in there tribe will be the best day of his life. The moment his father looks down at him and says, “I'm the luckiest father in the world.” That would be the day he would see himself as something more than useless.

~ ~ ~

A small seven year old boy hopped down rather large stairs. Each one was to steep for his little legs to reach on their own, so hopping down each one was his best option. Each wooden step creaked along with a small tap when the boy's feet hit the wood. On the last step he trips and he gives a frightened yelp. The lad falls to the floor, he couldn't get his arms out in front of him in time and lands onto his face. He grits his teeth, trying not to cry. His father would just think less of him if he wakes up to the boy crying. Instead, he takes his place at the table, gently rubbing his nose, sniffling every now and then.

The boy was Hiccup. He lived on the island of Berk; it was very respected back when vikings once sailed the seas. A mop of auburn, threatening to be the color red, was what the boy called hair. It was morning and he had just woken up; he needed to fix his bedhead before he went out into the village. He sported normal viking pants along with the normal color, brown. His eyes were his second most noticeable feature. They were as green as the forest and always seemed to be filled with wonderment and adventure. Though his face didn't show it, his eyes always seemed to be smiling at something. The most notable thing about Hiccup was his size. He's much smaller than anyone that age should be. His father is hoping and praying that he would grow.

The house he called home was the nicest one on Berk. But that wasn't anything to brag about. It was only because his father – Stoick the Vast – was chief, that the house was so nice. A nice fire pit was built into the ground farther back into the home, but it was still affective at heating up the whole house, even the upstairs. The table was big and tall, the chairs weren't tall enough for Hiccup to sit on his butt and eat, so he resulted to sitting on his knees. It didn't bother him. Three chairs were placed at the table; one for his father, one for him and one for his mother. She was no longer with the family – a dragon had captured her when Hiccup was still sleeping in the cradle – but they kept it there as a reminder that she once was there with them. The stairs were off to the side of the house and it led to Hiccup's room. Other than some cabinets on the first floor and Stoick's room that was hidden in the back, the house was very modest. Especially if you compare it to some of the houses other chief in the archipelago have.

~ ~ ~

A door was swung open at the back of the house. It wasn't the backdoor, but Stoick's bedroom door. The viking stumbled out, looking a little more weather-worn than usual. His eyes were sunken and seemed to look not at you, but through you. Looking at the world as if it was burnt to ash. Below the eye, Hiccup noted, seemed to more bags than there was the other day. Hiccup's mood went a little ways south when he remembered the day before. It was just a typical day, or, it was about to be the end of a typical day. Right before the sun set, the dragons decided they were hungry and invaded Berk. It was a... well, lets just say not everyone on Berk was ready for the attack.

The viking chief gently swung the door shut, a faint sound signaled that it locked. Stoick took sat in the same chair he always sits in. It was almost an unspoken rule in the household; to sit in your chair, the same chair, every time you take rest – or eat – at the table. Their were a few other chairs spread throughout the house that were pulled over to the table if the two had company.

Stoick's chair squeaked as he got situated at the table. He looked at Hiccup looking as tired as ever. The previous night had been hard, that much Hiccup could tell. He was hiding in his room that day when the dragons attacked. He heard yells and roars and the battle cries of the battle. He heard the crackle of fire burning houses down. The explosions that the dragons' fireballs cause on impact reached the young soul, as well. By the sounds of the fight, it was safe to say that not all of the vikings made it out alive.

“Morning, son,” Stoick said in his deep, gruff voice, although it was softer due to the tiredness in his voice. He must have had very little sleep.

Hiccup flashed his father a smile.

The smile warmed Stoick up more than he thought. With the death and destruction that he witnessed last night, he didn't really know how glad he was that Hiccup was safe at home. That thought made him realize something else; countless houses had been burnt down the night before, along with some of the occupants. If his house was burnt down, than Hiccup would have never had been able to give that small, warm smile. He was a lucky man and he knew it, but he often had a hard time showing it to his son.

“Morning,” Hiccup replied in his small voice that was deprived of the accent that the other vikings had. Stoick new his boy was a little odd and different, but he loved him for it, even if it could be a little annoying and frustrating at times.

Stoick got up from his seat. “I'm going to go get some firewood to make a fire,” he said. Hiccup sunk into his seat and studied his hands, his face slipped into a tiny frown. Stoick gave him a knowing look, his mood lightening. “You want to come help?” Hiccup's face brightened; a huge, toothy, grin made it's onto his face and his eyes seemed to brighten. He shook his head vigorously and hopped off the chair with enthusiasm. It wasn't very often he was able to help his father, since most of his duties were for grownups. Hiccup's excitement to help made Stoick laugh.

I'm really looking forward to the next chapter! (you're so good at pacing I could never do all this without seeming rushed) Hiccup is a very enjoyable character Great job!