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Rivals of The Multiverse PT 2: A unexpected end to Ryoichi.

2020.09.20 06:35 ARIES_tHE_fOOL Rivals of The Multiverse PT 2: A unexpected end to Ryoichi.

Part 1 Starts here
So anyways The Black Templars are attacking The Palanquin and now Ryo along with every other NPC has to fight to survive. (expect Kyouko and Chazz as their not suited for fighting.) There was so many figures I just said fuck it there are three groups of Space Marines so their all get 1 action card each, I did a similar thing for my allies as well. I mostly just assumed whatever stat seemed right when I acted with the Golden deeTouhou/whatever and just made the Space marines like 6 and 10 stat NPCS.
The beginning of the fight started with everyone getting in position, The Black Templars were flying in with jetbacks with chainsaws and plasma pistols. The Touhous can fly too but the Golden deer, Bradford, Scout and Ryo himself could not. The main goal was to rout the enemy while protecting the Captain of the ship. though by the end of the encounter I forgot about the ship chasing them so I just assumed by that point we've out run them.
While Scout shut down our of the Marines he was soon focused down hard but chainsaw marines and got his guts torn apart! at the time I didn't know about the vigor death rule so I asked the Oracle if Scout was dead and got a "No,But..." statement. so Scout got very lucky and lives but hes definitely not going to do any fighting for a while. Poor Raph was there when this happened. I can only imagine what was going through his mind as a strange weapon seemly designed to rip apart a person from the inside out disembowels someone fighting next to you.
From there it was mostly a back and forth firefight between these gritty Space Marines and Touhou girls shooting are one another in the sky. as for the rest of the party they were doing fine but then a Space Marine notices a witch (Lysithea) then charges her to melee, this goes about as well as you would expect but thankfully the melee Marine was dealt with but as Lysithea as falling back a long shot from the Commander (10 stats Extra) shoots down Lysithea, thankfully not dead but very wounded and out of the fight. Claude was sadly not able to do much as he seems to be having terrible luck on hit rolls in this fight. Ryoichi up to this point was a melee brawler and still is but I've also give him a Whip and Stock Pistol. Ryoichi was the one that dealt with the melee Marine attacking Lysithea and when she was hurt by the pistol marine Ryo later takes out his Meteor Magnum was rolls one hell of of a hit that instant kills the marine I imagine Ryo just used his special finishing move like most Kamen Rider characters unleashing a Meteor Magnum Star Storm. It seems I built Ryo into a DPS.
at that point you could imagine his insert theme was playing, as the party finished up Murasa got downed but sense I forgot the chase was still happening it didn't really matter, shes a ghost so killing her wasn't going to happen. when the last Marine was downed the battle ended. We got the wounded into beds and Chazz being a rich kid was perfectly able to pilot a ship.
After finding Byleth we see that he is indeed mind controlled by a alien but this wasn't a mere sectoid this was Ethereal! along with a few other aliens thats more is that they were not alone, a huge group of mine controlled knights of Seiros, Kaiba Corp members, the remaining Black Templars and even some Travelers were being controlled. Byleth had handed Chazz's deck to the Ethereal who then rips the Ojama Trio as Chazz, Ryo and Bradford were watching, Chazz runs in and gets his shit pushed in by brain wast Byleth who the Ethereal is now talking through. Ryo attempts to save Chazz only to be humbled very quickly by Byleth showing him that while he was strong there are others way stronger, Ryo was about to die and if any one were to try and help The Ethereal would make Byleth and the other brainwashed victims kill them selves so the rest of the party was forced to watch. I was planing on giving Ryo more Rider forms so I figured this dire moment was the perfect time for a near death power boost. Hes rage over being a failure of his own ideal of being a hero give him the Power of Astro Rider Scorpio! A more defensive form that replaces brawler with Counterattack. and makes his stat line more Vigor focused. however this power came at a cost, Scorpio has a strong bloodlust and would be more then happy to kill Byleth simply to prove his own strength.
The Kaiba shows up and Aya (another Touhou) comes by to record the action for her News network, she was originally a reporteNewspaper writer in her source material but to keep up with times her moved on to making a new show that's watchable across the multiverse.(How she does this is a trade secret) So basically the whole multiverse was watching this fight.
Rather then accepting the 1v1 the Ethereal offered Scorpio demanded he sends his best puppets to face him. Junko (Another Touhou) and Master Chief (YES I PUT HALO IN HERE TOO) sense the Ethereal was cocky and didn't quite understand the power of his pawns he sents both to attack melee only for both to miss and Scorpio to counter with Galaxy Grapple (The Whip) which not only damages them but if they fail a Strength test would toss them 2d6 inches. (I nerfed the distance later) Junko and Chief were sent flying and even hit Bradford standing with the Golden deer at the side lines.
While Junko and Chief was simply enough Byleth was no pushover and the Ethereal knew this, and while Scorpio was standing his ground he had to use his bennies just to avoid being killed. This was when Kaiba sprung a plan. Claude could fire an arrow at the Ethereal while hes busy controlling Byleth however Claude's confidence was lost due to the many misses on the airship. even if Claude was sure to hit he would have to ensure a kill or at least a shaken or risk the lives of everyone being controlled. however Kaiba thought ahead and give Claude a scope for bows, why does Kaiba have this on him? thats explained later. anyways Claude shoots a perfect arrow and strikes the Ethereal dead on!
Normally Ethereals would have a super tanky psionic shield but thanks to me forgetting and a power not yet know to Claude or the others, FLOW ENERGY. you remember the Flux Chaos Emeralds Kaiba made that allows multiverse travel? turns out the energy works similar to actual Chaos Emeralds in that strong emotions allow the user to gain power, however in the case of Flow it temporarily allows you to bend reality! so the Arrow bypassed the shield entirely and pierces the weak flesh behind it freeing the Professor and the rest of the victims. The Ethereal was stunned, his shield fails to a mere wooden arrow!
Scorpio Stands above the Alien menacing and says...
"Pathetic, your not even worth killing anymore...I'll let your former allies do that!"
"KILL THE XENO SCUM!" shouts the Black Templars as Ryo collapses and the rest of the party deals with the Chaos happening. at this point I have no clue what happens so lets just say Ryo blacked out as the rest of the party cleans up. but yeah the aliens are dead.
Chief recovers just fine and goes his own way, Junko is on the Palanquin recovering along side the other wounded. Chazz is fine now but depressived over his Ojama's being killed? But Claude shows up with the slightly water damaged and torn Ojama's along side his deck. In a rare moment of sincerity Chazz thanks Claude. Claude simply states it was Hilda who did most of the work. Chazz heads off home but promises to reply the favor to Claude one day. The Golden Deer returns to Garreg Mach with Byleth who is also grateful as well as the Knights saved. Kaiba finally coming around to the idea of joining the party thanks to the raw power shown by Ryoichi during that fight. sense Murasa is still recovering Kaiba takes over the Palanquin sense their last base of operations was found by the Black Templars Kaiba takes the party to an old friend's Hotel Which just so happens to be in Gensokyo.
When Kaiba and the others arrive he was shocked! the place was a mess and mostly empty.
"W-What happened!?"
"Hey, Kaibaman hows life been treating ya?" Rusty Venture stumbles in, still a bit drunk and covered in lipstick.
"Rusty what happened to this place?"
"Oh nothing to worry about just my rowdy clientele can be quite demending and I did what any sane man would do and satisfied those demands if you catch my drift?" Rusty winks to Kaiba.
"THIS? is your idea of a base of operations?" Hijiri asks in shock "We have Children with us!"
"I assure you this place was the classy Hotel in Gensokyo the last time I was here!"
"Could have fooled me!" a similar voice says, a red coated man with white hair carrying a large sword and two pistols. Kaiba groaned knowing all too well who this was.
Dante, Son of Sparda walks causally over and greets Rusty and the party. "So when are you gonna give your old pal Dante a Hotel?"
"Not even in your dreams! What are you doing here anyways?"
"Well I was taking my Demon hunting expertise to the people of Genso looking to finally pay my electric bills then noticed a familar face...the rest was history."
"Between me and Dante here we became the life of the party! Anyways how can I help you and your fine harem there Kaiba?" Rusty asks
From there I had realized my mistake with the Ethereal so I made a Power System to explain it, yes the Flow Energy crap was just me patching my own plot holes lol. Anyways Kaiba first learned of this by discovering his own Flow Ability; Equivalent Exchange via money! Kaiba used this power to make a scope for Claude to ensure he wouldn't miss. a fitting power for Kaiba all things considered.
Flow Energy is comes from the Flux Emeralds used to travel to other universes, this energy then remains in the universes and when a person undergoes exterme emotion they have what is know as a Flow Burst! the most common effect of a Flow Burst is to simply make the impossible possible! the less common effect is to give the user a Flow Ability or simply Flow Power. While fixing a plot hole was the reason I started this system I also wanted otherwise powerless characters to become super-powered to make them more importent.
Anyways, they rest for a day, Ryo, Scout and Murasa recovers partly and Ryo is being told not to fight until hes fully healed. Ryo reluctantly agreed but asked to stay in the bar before leaving to the next destination. There the three of them met Suika and Yuugi(Diffierent Yugi their both from Touhou ok.) After Scout tries to hype up Ryo as being the Masked Hero that when toe to toe with Byleth and two travelers The Orcale rolls a 1-2 so Suika and Yuugi just burst out in laughter clearly not buying it so Ryo decides to show them prove and Henshins into his base form only intending to show them not to fight. While this proves scout right it also provokes the drunken Youkai currently in the bar...
"Oi, oi, you looking*hic* for a fight!?"
"Lets rip him apart!"
from there this was intended to be another joke fight, however when Seija Knocks out Scout Ryo got hasty and changed to Scorpio...the bloodthisty killer dark form...in a bar fight...Can you see where this this is heading? Suprisingly Ryo was able to hold back Scorpio for a while thanks to Spirit rolls the TN was 8 because I figured such a dangerous power should come at a cost. for the most part Ryo was soloing the whole bar and Murasa was able to get out and warn the others but it seems at that point Ryo pretty much had it under control no doubt he'll get a scolding later but for the most part everything was fine. then Ryo drew a JOKER. You see in Savage Worlds Jokers let you action whenever you want and also gives you a damage buff, I also give Ryo the Edge Mighty Blow which DOUBLES THE DAMAGE dealt when you draw a Joker. Sense Scorpio was Bloodthisty no doubt this attack would KILL. Scorpio activates his Rider Kick Ryo at this point was panicing because a simple bar fight is about to turn into a blood bath! unlucky for Ryo he failed his Spirit roll! Scorpio Rider Kicks Momiji Inubashi and kills her in one kick.
After there Ryo was dead... even if could defeat the whole bar Dante stepped in to put a stop to this, While Dante tried to snap Ryo out of it he was too far gone. Dante lands the final blow with his pistol and Ryoichi Nendo is now dead...
I can't help but think this fate was inevitable as Ryo was too inexperinced and rash plus I give him a super powered dark side much too early. he meant well but ultimately became a failed Sentai Hero, as he fell Ryo accepted this fate. what happened afterwords is still up in the air but Ryo now is only know as a killer and a example of what happens if Travelers aren't handled well enough. Bradford Central blames himself, he should have been with him...
From there I struggled to think of a way to continue the story, I could have just made a new character or simply have Byleth deus ex mechina Ryo back in time but I felt those ideas would fall flat. Ryo just murdered a citizen due to his carelessness in using Scorpio, even if Ryo didn't mean it he killed someone. at this point I decided to maybe follow a new storyline following the aftermath Ryo's death.
But thats a story for next time... [TO BE CONTINUED]
submitted by ARIES_tHE_fOOL to Solo_Roleplaying [link] [comments]


2020.09.19 19:18 Billybobbjoebob 27 [M4F] Indiana/Anywhere - Just a fun sized guy looking for a fun sized girl. I'm like Ironman, except instead of a Billionaire, Playboy, & Philanthropist, I'm a Gamer, Weeb, & Meme Enthusiast. Pretty similar, if you ask me. (Picture of me in profile)

Ope! As us Midwesterners say in our formal greetings (It's true. Don't look it up.)
WARNING: Long post ahead. Continue at your own risk. I would put a tl;dr here, but NO. I worked very hard on this post and you're either going to read all of it or none of it. Or all of it. You're going to read all of it. That's what you're going to do. It'll take about five minutes (I know this because I timed it) and all you're probably doing is sitting on the toilet, scrolling through Reddit. You have nothing better to do. So get to reading.
I bet you're wondering: "Golly, what would it be like to date this man". And if you're not wondering that, then, well, I don't really know why you're here. Finish your business on the toilet and get out of here. Go. Scram.
Now for you stalkers that are wondering what it's like to date me, keep your hands & feet inside the ride at all times and get ready for my elevator pitch;
First, let's get your type out of the way. If you're looking for a party partner or an adventuring ally, I am not your guy. This is where you will want to exit the ride. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.
Now that we got my outgoing-ness (is that a word? Well, it is now) out of the way, let's move on to the smaller (but not any less important!) things;
Finally, the main deal breakers others have with me. Yeah, that's right. I saved the deal breakers for the very end. I could've put this at the very top to save some people time, but like I said, I worked very hard on this and personally wanted you to read it. Plus, when making a sales pitch, you gotta start with the functionality of the product before getting into the payment plan. And what are you going to do about it now? You could be upset about my tactic and stop reading now, as a form of rebellion, but you're not going to. You've already came this far, invested this much time into reading about me, can't stop now, you're in the final stretch. It's the Sunk Cost Fallacy, baby! I hope you like Yu-Gi-Oh, because you just fell right into my trap card. Alright, enough rambling, let's get into the deal breakers.
Alright! So that's pretty much all of the important stuff out of the way. if you're interested, feel free to send me a message!
Now time to copy & paste this on all the other subreddits. Peace out, girl scouts & thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
submitted by Billybobbjoebob to ForeverAloneDating [link] [comments]


2020.09.19 16:03 Billybobbjoebob 27 [M4F] Indiana/Anywhere - Just a fun sized guy looking for a fun sized girl. I'm like Ironman, except instead of a Billionaire, Playboy, & Philanthropist, I'm a Gamer, Weeb, & Meme Enthusiast. Pretty similar, if you ask me. (Picture of me in profile)

Ope! As us Midwesterners say in our formal greetings (It's true. Don't look it up.)
WARNING: Long post ahead. Continue at your own risk. I would put a tl;dr here, but NO. I worked very hard on this post and you're either going to read all of it or none of it. Or all of it. You're going to read all of it. That's what you're going to do. It'll take about five minutes (I know this because I timed it) and all you're probably doing is sitting on the toilet, scrolling through Reddit. You have nothing better to do. So get to reading.
I bet you're wondering: "Golly, what would it be like to date this man". And if you're not wondering that, then, well, I don't really know why you're here. Finish your business on the toilet and get out of here. Go. Scram.
Now for you stalkers that are wondering what it's like to date me, keep your hands & feet inside the ride at all times and get ready for my elevator pitch;
First, let's get your type out of the way. If you're looking for a party partner or an adventuring ally, I am not your guy. This is where you will want to exit the ride. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.
Now that we got my outgoing-ness (is that a word? Well, it is now) out of the way, let's move on to the smaller (but not any less important!) things;
Finally, the main deal breakers others have with me. Yeah, that's right. I saved the deal breakers for the very end. I could've put this at the very top to save some people time, but like I said, I worked very hard on this and personally wanted you to read it. Plus, when making a sales pitch, you gotta start with the functionality of the product before getting into the payment plan. And what are you going to do about it now? You could be upset about my tactic and stop reading now, as a form of rebellion, but you're not going to. You've already came this far, invested this much time into reading about me, can't stop now, you're in the final stretch. It's the Sunk Cost Fallacy, baby! I hope you like Yu-Gi-Oh, because you just fell right into my trap card. Alright, enough rambling, let's get into the deal breakers.
Alright! So that's pretty much all of the important stuff out of the way. if you're interested, feel free to send me a message!
Now time to copy & paste this on all the other subreddits. Peace out, girl scouts & thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
submitted by Billybobbjoebob to r4r [link] [comments]


2020.09.19 15:08 meadowwiltongoddess Everyone always talks about the Black Widow Brigade...

But how come no one ever brings up the Yasur Six from Vanuatu? They were truly one of the best, most complex, and most compelling alliances in Survivor history - let alone female alliance.
Twila: a blunt highway repair worker from rural Missouri - arguably the most brutally honest person in Survivor history. Played an absolutely incredible game and made it all the way to the final two (coming in second). Widely considered to be one of, if not the best character in Survivor history - mainly due to the full-circle of her Survivor journey as (after stabbing everyone in the back) she realises in the final tribal council that "people kill for less than what we're playing for", that "it wasn't me who played the game, it was the game that played me" and that all she wants is forgiveness. Hates sorority girls.
Scout: a super wise and spirited 59 year-old LGBT+ rancher from Oklahoma. Controlled the game with Twila from the final seven onwards and would have been in the final two if Chris didn't win final immunity; voted out on Day 38. Had some great one-liners such as her scathing voting confessional for Mia: "your volcano erupts more than I like... good luck in finding a husband that'll put up with you." Also hates sorority girls.
Eliza: an extremely opinionated Type A law student/sorority girl from New York. Known for being arguably the most expressive player in Survivor history, Eliza was at the centre of so much conflict this season yet was the crucial swing vote for the pivotal tribal councils where Dolly left 5-4, and where Leann left 4-3. Had a legendary rivalry with Twila that lasted all season long yet ended up depending on each other when the alliance crumbled. Hated Twila and would ALWAYS speak her mind (also known for her iconic "it's a f*cking stick" scene when she was to return seven seasons later in Micronesia).
Julie: an optimistic Native American youth mentor from Maine who dated Jeff Probst!!! One of the best social players to never win who came in fifth place after her allies turned on her. Has the most heart-wrenching jury speech of all time where she starts crying before she even begins to speak due to the level of betrayal she feels. Extremely underrated player.
Ami: a cutthroat lesbian barista from Colorado who is the BEST female villain of all time. To say Ami was a villain in Vanuatu would be putting it lightly (I know she wasn't as devious in Micronesia but this was because her best friend took his own life literally right before she left to film and as a result she was self-admittedly not in the right headspace to do Survivor). The way she cut Lisa off was about as stone-cold and brutal as Survivor gets, yet it's what made her such a compelling villain to watch.
Leann: an aspiring actress from Wisconsin who (despite being the first person out when the alliance turned on each other and also one of the quieter personalities in the group) ran the entire game alongside Ami as the leaders of the alliance from the start to the final seven, where in a 4-3 vote Leann was completely blindsided - the best blindside of all time (in my opinion).
Now, what makes this alliance truly one of the best?
First and foremost is the diversity in personality. Twila and Scout's worst nightmare was someone like Eliza who is about as opinionated as one can get and this led to several iconic fights. Furthermore, this group of women really did not like each other yet stuck together out of necessity. However when Twila finally decided to flip (by acquiring Scout, Eliza, and Chris' votes) on Leann at the final seven some of the best fights and voting confessionals came afterwards such as:
Twila for Ami: "drama queen 'til the end.
"Ami for Scout: "you're pretty good at hiding your nasty side but when your true colours come out they're no part of any rainbow I've ever seen."
Scout for Ami: "queens get dethroned and lightning will strike a lone tree on top of a mountain faster than anything."
Eliza for Twila: "I have been waiting to vote you off since the day I met you. I cannot believe that 36 days later I'm finally getting this opportunity."
Eliza for Twila: "Twila - I am voting for you for the third time this game, you're like the cockroach that won't die under the refrigerator. Hopefully you're going home tonight."
Twila for Eliza: "you have driven me crazy from Day 1, if you go home tonight it's going to be the happiest night since I've been here. You've got a lot of growing up to do."
Twila and Eliza bickered non-stop for 37 days, and everyone else in the alliance had their arguments - made for amazing TV.
Next up is just how good this alliance was at the game. Twila, Julie, and Ami are all (in my opinion) three of the top fifteen players to never win and I'd honestly put Scout in the top 25-30 to never win. These girls were really good at the game - Twila and Ami were brilliant strategically and as I mentioned earlier Julie Berry is still one of the best social players of all time for how she navigated herself through the game - particularly in how she integrated herself back into the majority after being left out of the first two votes, and during her time on Lopevi when it was just her and Twila. This alliance gave us some incredible top-tier female villains (my fav archetype) with Twila, Eliza, and Ami. Twila was cut last minute from 16, 20 (as a villain), and 27. Ami and Eliza have been asked back numerous times too. Scout was actually asked back for 40 (before it became winners only)!! Julie supposedly isn't allowed to play again due to her relationship with Jeff but if not for that she would have been a lock to return at some point.
Overall, this alliance had everything the Black Widow Brigade had (except for a winner), but compensated with so much internal drama that truly made the second half of Vanuatu one of the most exciting and unpredictable series of episodes in Survivor history. I would love to see this group of women brought up more often as one of the all-time great alliances, and on a side-note I think that Scout and Eliza are one of the most underrated dynamic duos ever (I never see them get brought up too).
submitted by meadowwiltongoddess to survivor [link] [comments]


2020.09.19 03:24 jack-devilgod made a new origin for hololive with ai dungeon (part 2)

a necromancer named rushia revives Yagoo from the death of suicide and takes over after taking out the old management. she dissapears for a while and when she comes back, she has a new body and new personality, as well as some undead giants to guard her. rushia joined hololive !!!! weird things have been happening and we need someone who isn't scared to talk to the media about this !!! please apply with these details !!!! Yagoo scouted out a calm fox girl called fubuki who is now a scout and is loved by all he has also recruited a savage giant girl called julius to be a raider he has found a derro called barbara to be a manager he has fubuki started streaming, while barbara and julius stayed in the background fubuki did well and got popular barbara and julius started giving orders and giving suggestions on how to do things yagoo is still missing and fubuki has been assigned some of the most barbara and julius disappeared while on the same day Yagoo showed up. you need to decide if it's better to talk to the police, the press or yagoo either way you go, something is going to happen, but you need to decide what helpful hints !!!! without Yagoo knowing that barbara and juluis disappeared he went looking for another talent to manage he found kirihito, a socially awkward but very talented singer who was also the lead singer of a famous band. yagoo decides to make a sister branch of hololive called holostars and scouts out kirihito yagoo also decides to hire damian, a vampire with a bad reputation but who has an interesting story. with two members in holostars. Yagoo found another member for hololive called miko who claim to speak good english and actually does (although she is very insecure about it). miko starts a live stream and tries to be funny and has some success. after a few stream miko has decided to do a collab stream with pekora who is doing one with sora. the two fake bae streams become extremely popular and bring in a massive amount of money. after that stream yagoo saw that there was an independent v tuber called suisei who is striving to become a shining star. Yogaa decided to hire her and she was given a job in our company. the fame and popularity of the stars has made people forget about the necromancers and zombies who were staying out of their way and the media have started to report that the necromancers have gone back to their home. yagoo has decided to release some of the higher ranking zombies to scout around for potential talent as they are intelligent and can think like a predator would. the zombies go back with a talent called haato and she seemed pretty normal and got hired by Yagoo. it's been a month since the first holostars show and things are starting to settle down now. what do you want to happen next !!!! Haato sniffs her feet and goes mental !!!! > You check the popularity of hololive. You are already getting information about the new social media sensation "The Holostars" Yagoo decides too find more members for holostars and is considering scouts from other raider companies. You are considered a talent and a good scout for haiti !!!! on a day two girls wanted to audition for hololive !!! Yagoo decides too try out the two !!!! bread baker called Korone and a saleswoman called Okayu. which would you choose !!!! Yagoo chooses to hire both of them !!! the two were pretty happy about that on the next day Yagoo tells the both of you too leave for the stadium !!! on the way you need too pass a bunch of vendors selling food and entertainment to the raider public. there are three entertainers there !!! one is a singedancer called Ragnor who has been pretty popular and has an appearence on the holostars. you sit down and talk with Ragnor for a bit, he says he is happy that people are finally enjoying his work. You ask him when he is going to live stream again !!!! he says he isn't sure that he will and tells you that he should be taking a break after his run at the stadium . You tell Ragnor that he should start streaming again soon and you leave him to enjoy the rest of his break. You pass a magician called Kyros who is giving an act in a couple of hours and an impersonator of a certain eternals's called "The Shade" you ignore the performance and go back to the office too Yagoo and the two new girls. There you meet up with Marine and Coco. you heard that coco could speak good English and marine is a good artist and you wanted to meet them both so you could scout them for your new team. You sit down with all of them and start talking. "So what are you both good at ?" Coco answered, "I'm bilingual." and marine said that she was a good manga artist and could imitate the style of various artists. "Perfect, we need someone who can do a seperate section for us seperatley of the main show." Yagoo said. Coco and marine get hired and start streaming a few days after the first show with the two new girls hailing from hong kong called Yogiri and civia.
The rest of the month goes well and they have the stadium looking like a nightclub with different areas with diferent entertainment going on. hololive have been getting more and more popular around the world and the raiding parties have been doing well. on the fifth month you have a meeting with yagoo and the rest of the management to talk about what to do next.
submitted by jack-devilgod to Hololive [link] [comments]


2020.09.18 08:16 Oculusfluffy Steamfluffs by Oculus (xpost from fluffybooru)

Steamfluffs by Oculus (xpost from fluffybooru)
Originally posted on: https://www.fluffybooru.com/post/view/58039
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STEAMFLUFFS
~or Steampunk Fluffies~
By Oculus

~CHIMNEY~

>You are Chimney
>You are a fluffy
>You are given the name Chimney by your owner, Oliver

>Oliver is an orphan. Oliver never knew his father, and his mother died at childbirth. Word around the boys is that he’s the son of a common whore
>at the age of six, Oliver was scouted by the Master Sweep to work for his business, sweeping the many chimneys and vents in a burgeoning London
>it is a hard job but, with no parents, and without a cent to his name, working as a sweep is the only way Oliver can eke out a living

>Oliver remembers the first time he went up a chimney
>A boy two years older than him, a veteran, recommended going in completely naked, as the clothes would only drag him down. Oliver balks at this idea
> the space was thin, as he used his knees and hands to slowly worm his way up
>with brush in hand, he keeps sweeping away the cakes of soot in the chimney, following the instruction from the master
>surviving the first ordeal, Oliver comes out
>Coughing. With tears in his eyes
>but alive. He hadn’t fallen, and he had been careful

>it was during his third sweep that Oliver met you
>The Master had been tasked with cleaning the factories owned by Hassenfeld Biochemical
>the chimney of this particular factory is long and arduous
>more than one boy was needed to clean the chimneys, and there were nooks and crannies that had to be taken care of
>the briefing was unusual as an official from the enterprise was also present
>with top hat, clean clothes and gloves, he was clearly a gentleman. And he seemed to be talking to the master about something
>it seemed like a minor oddity at first, but the reason behind this became clear later on

>The chimney of this factory was filled with vents, all of which were caked in soot, and aside from the main chimney, which had to be cleared, some of the younger boys had to crawl into these vents
>it was in one of these vents that Oliver noticed an odd peculiarity
>horse hooves, in the soot

>Oliver had seen horses, but he could not imagine how a horse could fit itself into a vent
>and not too long after he pondered that, he discovers you
>a grey coloured fluffy, but blackened by the surrounding soot

“H-huwwo nice yung mistah. Fwuffy am scawed. Fwuffy nu wan twubbwe, onwy wan nummies an’ pway.”

>Oliver should have screamed or cried. Or anything unexpected, given the bizarreness of finding a miniature horse in a vent. And one that was talking

“What a most peculiar thing.”

>but Oliver had read a book about a talking horse. And that same book also mentioned the island of Lilliput, and its miniature denizens.
>not knowing the book to be fiction, he takes it that this horse belonged to that island of Liliput

“Pwez! Nu huwt fwuffy!”

>you cover your eyes with your hooves

“Don’t cry, you poor thing. You must be a long way from Liliput."
"Wha' am Wiwiput?”

>Strange, thought Oliver. The creature knows nothing about that island.
>No matter

>In an act of kindness, Oliver carries you, as he clears the final bit of soot

~

“Ah, splendid job, Mr Gamfield! I see that your boys have managed to recover a few of our fluffy ponies.”
“Ponies? By jove! Are you telling me that these miniature babbling creatures are horses?”

>indeed, Oliver was not the only who found a pony in the chimneys and vents
>some of the other boys had found similar fluffy ponies in the chimney of the factory

“Indeed! We have been experimenting with these creatures as a means of augmenting the labour force. As you know, the young boys are needed to run the vents, but some of the vents are particularly tight and hard to crawl through.
Then, I received word that some of our subjects had escaped into the chimneys of our factory. Considering their survival, and how their fluff has helped soaked up some of the soot, I can see the potential in providing your boys with our lovely ponies.”

>Oliver is holding you in your arms. He feels a bit curious
>in a rather independent fashion, Oliver raises a hand and asks

“Can we keep these ponies?”

>The Master was about to lower Oliver’s hand forcefully and chastise him, but the official stops him
>with a smile on his face, the official says

“Of course! The fluffies are for you to keep."

>he then turns to master sweep

"As a matter of fact, Mr Gamfield, I would like to offer a minor proposition. Something that can help you and your boys earn a bit more than the paltry amount you get for clearing soot.”

>And so, every boy in Gamfield’s business now has a fluffy pony
>including you, who now belongs to Oliver
>the work is difficult, and you have to run the vents that Oliver can’t, to collect the soot in your fluff
>then return to the base, where you are washed down by a washerwoman, and quickly dried, before going up the vents again to check for blockages

“Nu wike wawa.”
“Be still, you little rapscallion!”

>as the mistress washes you down, Oliver is currently reading a book regarding identifying blockages
>lately, the Master has found a new job and occupation for the boys to take up
>aside from the usual chimney sweep business, the development of the analytical engine in recent years has seen the implementation of more elaborate and complex structures in London.
> the vents have started to be more complicated, to reflect the clockwork and steam machines integrated into the architecture
>aside from clearing soot from chimneys and vents, there is now a business in looking for leaks in steam vents, as well as identifying blockages in said vents

>its hard work
>but every day, after a long day at work, the boys are given their pay
>with you in tow, Oliver takes you to the soup kitchen, where he manages to buy a bowl of soup, and a bit of bread
>it is not enough sustenance for a young boy

"Please sir, can I have some more?"

>the cook eyes Oliver, feeling a little furious
>but, and despite being washed down, Oliver's clothes still have the charred remains from the chimney
>and he is holding you in his arms

"You're one of Gamfield's boys, aren't you? Your lads did a pretty good job on one of the warehouses.

Here's an extra piece of bread for the good work."

>the additional morsel is barely enough for one boy
>but Oliver still divided the bread between the two of you, and make sure you get your fill of soup and bread

"Fank 'ou, daddeh."

>as you slowly nibble at the piece bread, drenched in soup, you contemplate on the day that Oliver had found you

>unbeknownst to Oliver, you were actually part of a contingent of rejected ponies that were going to be sent to the incinerator
>the biochemical factory that chimney boys were cleaning also doubles as a breeding mill, with much of the breeding down in the bowels of the factory
>the mares held at this mill are all belong to the third to fourth generation of Hassenfeld Biochemical, or Hasbio's, continued fluffy breeding programme
>currently, the programme has managed to sustain the breeding and sale of high quality fluffy ponies that can be kept as pets
>however, every litter of foals always has a runt, as well as a few fluffies of an undesirable colour, notably the colours of grey, brown, mottled green and so on

>on the day that you were supposed to be incinerated, a careless worker had forgotten to lock the cage some of your kin were housed in, and the lot of you scampered away into the labyrinthine maze of vents within the factory
>obviously, the factory workers were prepared to chase you down, and have the lot of you exterminated
>but one of the Hasbio officials has noticed a potential purpose for you lot

>as you keep chewing at the piece of bread, you can feel Oliver rub the back of your head, then your face
>despite having little in the world, he cannot help but beam as he sees you appreciate the morsel of food

>the two of you then return to a workhouse, where both of you retire for the night

"Fwuffy wuv 'ou, Owivah."
"I love you too, Chimney."

>clutching you in his arms, both of you fall asleep

~

~ZWEISTEIN~

>You don’t really have a name
>Some have called you “Zweistein’s Monster”
>But one thing is certain
>You are a Progenitor

>you live a simple, but mundane life
>in the shed that Zweistein owns, you sleep, you wake up
>graze and ruminate
>day by day, the doctor and assistants assess you for your mental and physical health
>and then, you sleep again

>Donovan Zweistein is a kind man
>he is also a brilliant man
>and one of the most captivating discoveries, a decade or so ago, was the full and complete development of the Difference Engine by Charles Babbage
>and its successor, the Analytical Engine
>these mechanical devices, intricate and byzantine, yet beautiful, are capable of computations and formulas far beyond the understanding of the average man
>and its application in modern science cannot be underestimated
>in fact, one of the first discoveries utilizing the Analytical Engine, was the complete sequencing of various animal genomes
>something that Zweistein has been involved in

>this discovery has motivated Zweistein
>for Zweistein is, himself, contracted to Hassenfeld Biochemical

>you have been many things, in many lives before
>but your strongest memory was as a horse
>a Shetland pony, owned by Donovan
>miniature yet proud. Loyal and strong
>and very, very fluffy

>and one day, you died
>you cannot remember how. Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps it had been an altercation
>whatever the case, the life had been taken from you in a snap
>Donovan was heavily affected by this loss, and wept for your soul for ages

>Donovan is a brilliant man, and he has been working with the sequencing of the genomes, as well as various chemicals
>and, fueled by his memory of the time he spent with you, along with a hypothesis funded by Hassenfeld, Donovan is about to do a most daring, and possibly profane, experiment

>he has taken the body parts of various animals
>the feathers of a selkie chicken. The sinew of a boar. The ears of a rabbit.
>the blood of a guinea pig. The blood of an orangutan. The blood of a dog.

>and the brain of his Shetland pony
>suspended in a preservative until this right moment, he has now removed it, and placed it within a skull he had fashioned for this purpose
>affixing two bolts to each side, and wiring the body that has been stitched together, Zweistein waited for a violent rainstorm to come, while setting up the conductor
>and like Prometheus bestowing fire upon humanity, a flash of lightning sears through the sky, and starts up the beating heart

>when he first saw you, he at first felt disgust at you
>a wretch
>a miserable monster he had created.

>Zweistein held up the curtain of the bed; and your eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on him. Your jaws opened, and you muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled your cheeks.
>And for a few days, you could only manage a simple, silent cry, your first words

“Wan…. Die….. wan…. Die….”

~

>your routine as a progenitor is simple
>you graze the fields
>you speak with your master
>but there are times when your master has need of your one talent

>as his hands dig into your thick fluff and massage your back, your mind goes back to the days following your awakening

~

“Wan…. Die….. wan…. Die….”

>Zweistein is a bit concerned

>the readings from the engine were supposed to be right
>and he had already ran the tests on simpler reactions with the chemicals on the other bits
>however, when put together into this being that has been stitched together from the various parts, the chimera wasn't responding
>was the brain affected, by years of stasis in the fluid? Were the parts all rejecting each other?
>it would be the case, but the introduction of certain chemicals was supposed to keep that in unison together ideally
>ideally, that is the key word

>Zweistein is at his table, frustrated. His hand is on his forehead, his posture slumped, looking over the compilation of notes, and the readings from the analytical engine
>in the background, the engine could be heard, as it clicks and clacks away, processing more genetic data for the doctors studies

"Wan... die..."

>oh god, how he wished this bastard would shut up

>in a fit of frustration, the doctor grabs a piece of paper, crumples it up into a ball, and throws it at you

>looking at the crumpled paper, the roughly spherical shape registers a memory in you, speaking to the part of you that once had a life as a canine
>and for the first time, you manage something new in your vocabulary

"Wan.... pway?"

~

>the mare is primed
>she is a bit nervous

>but Zweistein received the mare from a colleague of his about a week ago
>a telegram that had been sent prior to the delivery revolved around a discussion he had regarding the exposure of genetic material from an older source to a newer bloodline, but from a different progenitor
>and this mare was a descendant of that different progenitor

>Donovan had already administered a hormone to her half an hour earlier
>the mare, once frightened by the sight of you, is also in heat

“Fwuffy nu wike dis… bu…bu… fwuffy wan speshuw huggies….”

>to ease the mare, Zweistein places a blindfold over her

>upon seeing the mare, her rear exposed to you
>the one instinct in you, unique to all heterosexual life forms, reacts

"H….huggies….”

>your virility is strong, a reproductive organ that the doctor had carefully developed
>as you mount yourself upon the mare, your virility penetrates the mare’s organ, as the unmistakable sounds of sex filled the stable

“Enf… enf…. Enf.”

>the mare, still blindfolded, is frightened. But being in heat, the act is still consensual, and she is largely unaware of who, or what, is mounting her

“Fwuffy a-a-am scawed… b….bu….. feew guud….”

>over time, her fear gives way to pleasure

"Enf... enf... enf...."

>and you release

>the mare collapses. Exhausted, but satisfied
>as for you, Zweistein slowly guides you aware from the mare, and back to the shed, where an assistant will massage you, as well as examine you further

>in time, the mare will give birth to a fresh set of fluffy foals, this time with DNA from a Progenitor
>you have previously fathered a generation of fluffy ponies, which have, in turn, fathered their own generation, carefully managed and monitored by the company
>and now, you have procreated with the descendant of a similar progenitor, exposing new genetic material to that line

>for your efforts, Victor provides you with a meal that a part of you remembers

“Sk-skettis…”

>as you slowly eat the dish, morsel by morsel, Donovan strokes your mane
>proud of his virile, yet bizarre, abomination

~

~DOLLY~

>You are a fluffy
>But you are not any ordinary fluffy

>You are Dolly
>You are the property of Laura Hassenfeld
>Laura is the Daughter of Sir Percival Clayton Hassenfeld the Fourth of Haddockspike Manor
>Sir Hassenfeld is one of the current proprietors of the Hassenfeld conglomerate
>it was under Hassenfeld that the company had created its famous Biochemical subsidiary
>and, more importantly, he had overseen the creation, and propagation of Hasbio’s Fluffy Pony product

>You are Laura’s pride and joy
>after years of extensive breeding and artificial selection, specific pedigrees of fluffies have been bred for the gentry
>well-trained and well-mannered, you represent the heights of man’s mastery over the natural order, as a talking animal companion that distinguishes itself from a mangy dog or uncouth cat
>you have been with Laura ever since her twelfth birthday, and she has always cherished you

>and then, one day, the incident happened
>while ice-skating at a lake, your mistress, in an act of poor thinking, decided to carry you across the ice
>you, being the judicious fluffy that you are, refused
>but that didn’t stop Laura
>nor did it stop the bumbling Norwegian who crashed into the two of you

>Laura survived, as did you, but the weight of the man’s body, as well as the blades of the ice-skates had damaged your legs, to the point that they could no longer be used
>the veterinarian who attended to your wounds put your chances of survival as being slim
>even though you did survive amputation, the loss of your legs indicate that you would be entirely dependent on your owners for the rest of your natural life
>the veterinarian recommended euthanasia, to spare you the potential misery
>but Laura refused this
>she had grown overly attached to you, as a fluffy, and could not bring herself to see her fluffy die in such a manner

>it just so happened to be that Laura is familiar with technology
>while not well-versed in the scientific fields of biology, let alone biological engineering, Laura has a fascination for clockwork and steamwork
>despite receiving training to be a gentlewoman, her father had allowed her study the mechanical sciences, provided it was as a hobby
>this, however, has allowed Laura to tinker with various devices in her own private laboratory

>one of the first things she attempted to invent for you was a wheeled sedan of sorts
>placing you within the seat, the steam engine came to life, which startled you

"SCREEE! NU WIKE! NU WIKE! Mummah, git fwuffy away from buwnie munstah!"

>suffice to say is that it took quite the grace period before you could get used to this particular sedan

>Laura is currently working on a device that while powered by steam, has our legs, and can actually be controlled by your muscles
>that is one of Laura's pet projects
>her other pet project has been working on your other set of legs
>the ones you mainly use

>your body, thus, is a complex thing
>you still have your own brain and mind
>but, and to accommodate the loss of your legs, your mistress added these weird clockwork legs
>covered with a wool that matches your fluff
>the legs are connected to an analytical engine on your back

>because the legs are clockwork, and thus, inorganic, you cannot control your legs
>to be able to walk, or just do about anything, your mistress has to insert a punch code to allow you to move

~

>You are currently at a tea party with your mistress
>being a member of the gentry, Laura has to entertain the various guests that visit the Haddockspike manor
>these can range to friends of her fathers, to her own childhood friends and fellow ladies

"Have you heard Laura, of the business going on down in Leeds?"

>that was one of Laura's friends
>its late evening. The three one of you having a light evening meal of tea, biscuits and scones

"No I haven't Catherine. What is going on in Leeds?"
"They're building some sort of port at Leeds."
"A port? But there's no body of water there."

"Not for vessels, Laura. It is for airships. More people are traveling by balloon these days, and the government is seeing the need to create facilities designed for this mode of travel."
"So, a port for aircraft. Like, an 'airport'?"
"You could say that yes"

"Dowwy tink dat big bawwoons am siwwy."

>like all fluffies, you speak fluffspeak
>but your fluffspeak has an air of elegance, noting your social status

"Oh, is that so, Dolly? Why would you even consider that?"
"Dummehs tink dat dey can fwy wike biwdies. Dummehs hab nu cawe for da huwties dey may git ib dey hab huwties from faww."
"From a fall? Don't be crass, Dolly."

>feeling a little bit concerned about your insistence on trying to have a conversation about a subject far beyond your understanding, Laura whispers into your ear the one request you dislike

"Bu' now? Fwuffy nu wike, mummah.”
“Please, Dolly. I always like it when you do this. And I think Catherine here hasn't seen you do this before.”

>you want to refuse
>but Laura pouts
>she has this incredibly cute face that makes it impossible for you to deny her

"Otay mummah."

>you sigh, resigned to your mistress's decision

>Laura then places you on the floor, arranging your legs such that they're no longer at rest, but are 'standing' on all fours

>Laura proceeds to insert the punch code into the miniature analytical engine located near your abdomen

>you "stand" on your prosthetic hind legs
>you "raise" your fore legs

>within the mechanical body attached to the legs, a music box plays
>mimicking a stiff ballerina, you jerk through the motions, and mimic a part from Swan Lake

>Catherine is laughing, remarking at the little ballerina display Laura is making you do

“Your fluffy is the most precious thing! I wish my fluffy could do that!”

~

>it is night time
>Laura and you have retired to her bedroom
>she has removed your clockwork legs, and has currently placed you on your favourite pillow
>she is stroking your mane

>you puff up your cheeks, as you voice your protest
“Mummah am a meanie! Fwuffy nu wike dancies!”

“I’m sorry, Dolly.

Would a hug make things better?”

>as she embraces you, you feel a little better
>you hate the dances. You hate the fact that you cannot control your legs
>and you hate the fact that you are like a literal pillow

>but seeing your mistress’s smiling face is worth the trouble

~

~SWIFT~

>You are Swift
>You are the fastest fluffy alive
>you are the daughter of the fluffy pair of Whisper and Wind

>your life has always been about racing
>even at a young age, while raised with other show foals in the aristocracy, you always wanted to compete with others
>this competitive spirit contributed to you being picked for the first fluffy races sponsored by Hassenfeld

>and true enough, you won those races
>some had have considered you to be as fast as Mercury
>the suffragettes, knowing your gender, insist you are more like the goddess Iris

>but there is one thing that you always wanted to do
>and that is to conquer the air
>your wings are useless, but that never deterred you
>when you were a foal, you kept jumping, while flapping your wings
>you got hurt a few times, and stopped after a while, but you never stopped dreaming

>it is a good thing that your owner is none other than Captain Sullivan
>the captain is a member of Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force and has experience with the Airships of the British Empire
>in recent years, and thanks to the development of better technology, they have mastered the creation of flying dreadnoughts
>in addition to having the greatest fleet of passenger airships on the planet, the Empire also boasts the strongest air force
>even the newly reunified German states have yet to compete with the might of the British Empire in the air

>the captain often takes you aboard airships
>the two of you are currently heading towards Calais, and are halfway through the English Channel
>you are currently aboard a passenger airship. Thanks to improvements in airship technology, the craft is like a cruise liner, but held afloat by the giant helium blimp above it
>the captain is wearing his flight jacket, his military uniform underneath it, as well as his signature aviator goggles
>you too are wearing similar goggles, though the only other thing you’re wearing is your leash, and a rather odd mechanism strapped to your back

>an inquisitive noblewoman notices that the captain has a cyan fluffy pony as she remarks

“Upon my word, Captain, I had no idea that you owned one of these fluffy ponies!”

>the captain smiles
>he lifts you, and presents you on the table for the woman to see

“Pweashure to meet ‘ou, faiw wady!”
>even though you speak in fluffspeak, you maintain the courtesy that the captain has taught you, as you do a little curtsy

“How polite! Better than those ragamuffin fluffies in the seedier areas of London.”
“She’s magnificent, isn’t she? I purchased her as a showfoal from a while back. Said to be of good pedigree.”
“She’s a Waggytail, isn’t she?”
“That is correct, my lady. A Waggytail, one of the purebreeds from the Colony of New Zealand.”
“How old is she?”

>before the captain can answer, there is a loud shriek near the starboard of the airship deck
“……my dolly!”
>a little girl cries, as her favourite doll is swept by the wind
>seeing this as an opportunity to act, you gallop off the table, and head straight out
>the captains runs for you, but you’re a bit too fast
>as you reach the railing, and with a quick moment of your hooves, you bring the goggles down to protect your eyes
>and, within seconds, you jump off the ship

>some of the people cry out, fearing the infamous stupidity of the fluffy pony
>but they astounded by what they see next

>although your actual fluffy wings are useless, Sullivan is also an aeronautical engineer
>and his knowledge of aircraft also includes knowing about gliders, and ornithopters
>while the wingspan of the fluffy Pegasus cannot support flight, the natural weight of the fluffy, as well as the similarity of the wings to bird wings, led Sullivan to test out a theory
>one that worked, one fine day

>within moments, the spring-loaded mechanism on the back of your body unfurls a strong set of canvas wings
>these artificial wings are controlled by the muscles in your natural wings
>and with grace, you reach for the falling doll, and grab it in your mouth
>then, using the momentum gained from the free fall, you swoop up!
>you can reel the rush of air going against you, as you enjoy that thrill of being able to defeat gravity, even for a temporary moment

>and safely land on the starboard of the ship!

>the crowd cheers! A flying fluffy – whoever would have thought such a thing?

>as you return the doll to the little girl, she smiles, and pets you on the forehead
>Captain Sullivan comes to see you
>he is prepared to scold you later for pulling off such a dangerous stunt, but, at the same time, he does marvel and appreciate your daring

“Fwuffy hab nu guud wing pwaces. Bu’ daddeh gib speshul wings, and fwuffy can fwy!”
>alas, you can speak only in fluffspeak as you address the crowd
>that, and despite your talents, you’re not that bright

“Captain, how long has Swift been able to fly?!”
“I have trained the little lass on this mechanism for a little while now. The Air Force is doing more research and testing on pegasi being able to fly with the aid of these mechanisms. Of course, the average Carpdime tabby fluffy wouldn’t be able to fly, but we’ve had some success with purebreds like the Waggytail.”

>Captain Sullivan looks at you with pride, as you prance up and down, enjoying the attention
>for the moment, you do not know what is going on in the depths of his mind
>for the Captain, as well as the other higher-ups in the air force, have been looking at training similar pegasi to you as a means of carrying ordnance
>as a potential weapon of war, dropping bombs over the enemies of the Empire
>and given your unwavering loyalty, and your ability to accept orders without question, you would make a fine weapon of war

>but for now, you are a happy fluffy pony, who just saved a little girl’s dolly

~

~WORLD’S FAIR~

“Welcome to the World’s Fair in London!”

It is 18XX. The British empire under Queen Victoria reigns supreme throughout the world in all the fields of science, technology and even the arts. To commemorate Great Britain’s status as a world power, the Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce conceived of this fair as a celebration of modern industrial technology and design. The fair took place at the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, and featured participants from around the world, from America to Japan, to come and display the technological and artistic marvels of the new age.

The successful invention of the Difference Engine in 1824, along with the Analytical Engine, has seen a rapid development of the Empire, thanks to combined power of its navy, and its fleet of rigid airships. In addition, the existence of the analytical engine has seen the beginning of an Information Revolution little more than a century after Industrial Revolution. One of the devices being exhibited at the Fair is a prototype of an Analytical engine that combines information received by telegrams, with improved jacquard looms, to develop a potential international network of information.

And of course, one of the bigger influences that the invention of the analytical engine has is on genetic engineering.

The Hassenfeld Company has a few exhibits at this fair, to showcase the many developments of the company across its subsidiaries. But the most attention has been given to its well-known Biochemical subsidiary, which is at the current forefront of genetic engineering in the 19th century. It is, after all, the Hassenfeld Biochemical company that has invented the fluffy pony, with the invention being attributed to a collective of daring biologists across Europe, all under Hassenfeld.

Dr Zweistein does not like the crowd of onlookers gawking at his creation. Nor does Zweistein’s Progenitor. At twice the height and size of the average fluffy pony, Zweistein’s Progenitor is a beast that, while having the fluff of a fluffy pony, and a mouth and shape matching one, moves at a sluggish pace. A chimera of different animal parts literally stitched together, some wonder how this beast can stay alive, not to mention procreate.

“D…daddeh? Fwuffy nu wike…. Tuu many hummehs…”

Zweistein keeps patting his creation, and whisper in its ear.
“They’re not going to hurt you. Be calm.”

Earlier, Zweistein had administer a sedative to keep the progenitor docile. Thankfully, it has worked, though the doctor is a bit concerned that his creation is still aware of its surroundings. Though faint, the doctor can hear a soft mumble from a rather scared fluffy.

"M-munstah....."

~

On the other side of the fair is Oliver with Chimney. The master sweep, having managed to earn a little extra from the new service he provides as a repairman, in addition to chimney sweeping, is now able to take some of his boys to see the Fair, though in groups.

“Su many bwightie pwaces, daddeh!” gasps Chimney, as Oliver himself is taken in by the sights.

Of course, Mr Gamsfeld is also here on official business. While the fair has its own engineers, Mr. Gamsfeld has the additional task of making sure the vents and machinery on display at this fair go without a hitch. But it doesn’t hurt to let his boys have at least one great pleasure, before they go back to their miserable lives of sweeping chimneys.

Swift is having the time of her life. There is a fluffy pony talent show going on, and Swift is one of the fluffies that was entered for the competition. Aside from a rather instinctual ability to use her canvas wings properly, Swift is able to show her other talents, including being able to balance a plate on her head and body, and later, break the record for the number of times a ball can be bounced by a fluffy pony on its head. Swift is in the limelight, and she is loving it.

And then, she meets her rival.

Swift has met Dolly before. Laura’s elder sister is the fiancé of Captain Sullivan, and, occasionally, the two fluffies have met together, whenever Captain pokes his head around Haddockspike Manor. One would think that, with fluffies being social creatures, they would naturally bond.

“Oh. It am onwy, Swiff, da wuffian. How uncoof(uncouth).”

“Nu! Dowwy am a dummeh!”

The relationship between Swift and Dolly is a bit complex. But for today, they must put aside their differences.
Laura’s Dolly has garnered attention too. Her work on mannequin legs is part of a larger project in developing clockwork prosthetics for the disabled. And today, after months of preparation, the two fluffies are on the stage. Standing on their hind legs, the two fluffies perform a choreographed cake walk, occasionally bringing their forelegs together. The crowd claps, as both fluffies bow before the audience.

Upon the falling of the curtain, the two fluffies blow raspberries at each other.

“Dummeh!”
“Wuffian!”

~

Oliver is currently in the garden next to the Crystal Palace. The crowds at the Fair have been packed and yet, remain oddly organized. For the poorer fairgoers remain at one end of the grounds, followed by the working and middle classes in the centre. Further on up, the gentry and aristocrats mingle around in a part of the garden cordoned off from the rest off the riffraff. In a reflection of the social strata of London, there is a clear but unspoken demarcation between the lines.

Although Oliver has been enjoying the fair, he is still reading from the book that Glamsfeld had provided him. Despite working as a chimney sweep for many years now, Oliver has developed an interest in engineering, as well as the technical arts. He hopes to get better at the art of fixing difficult clockwork and steam engines.

It is perhaps this focus that prevents Oliver from noticing that Chimney saw a Monarch butterfly. Like an excited puppy, Chimney races after the butterfly, trying to catch it. As he does so, he starts to get buried in the crowd. Oliver, sensing an absence, turns around, and notices that Chimney was running away.

“Chimney! Wait!!”

Chimney keeps running, oblivious to his surroundings. As he keeps running, he slowly passes by the various professions in London. Whore, Chimney sweep, worker, foreman, soldier, journalist, lawyer, teacher, engineer, businessman, officer and eventually, gentleman.

“Haha! Fwuffy git yu!”

But of course, the butterfly flies away, high above the crowd.

Chimney looks left and right. Seeing the men in top hats and coats, and woman in elegant dress, he realizes that he is very, very lost. Most fluffies would cry in this instant. But Chimney, and with a little daring, walks to the nearest fluffy he can see in a nearby tent.

“Huwwo pwetty fwen! “

Dolly is currently seated on a pillow in a special tent that Laura has rented for herself. After the rather exhausting dance her mistress had made her do, she is getting a much-needed reprieve on her favourite pillow. She is just about to sip some tea from a teacup when she heard the loud babbling coming from another fluffy. And judging by its accent, it is clearly not well-trained.

“Wut ‘ou wan? Dis nu pwace for ‘ou,” asks Dolly.
“Pawdon fwuffy, nice miss, but whewe am Chimney Daddeh?”

If this was any other fluffy of the gentry, particularly a snobbish one, Dolly would turn her head up in the air, and continue her drink. However, Dolly, feeling a little empathy for a humble fluffy of the working classes, rings a bell next to her. This activates a minor electrical signal, which triggers a buzzing in the pocket of her master.

Laura comes in and sees the fluffy on the ground.

“Well hello there. I take it you’re lost?”

~

Oliver is currently outside the cordon and is facing a copper.

“Go on about your business lad. This is a restricted property.”
“But kind sir, my fluffy pony wandered into that area!”
“None of my business, young lad.”

As he says this, Laura comes past the cordon, carrying Chimney in her arms.

“Chimney!”
“Daddeh!”

As boy and fluffy are reunited in a heatful embrace, Oliver looks to Laura in gratitude.

“Thank you, miss!”
“You’re welcome, young man.”

For a moment, their eyes meet. Oliver, with his grey eyes, and his face holding some remnants of soot, with his hands, covered in callouses from climbing the chimney walks. Laura, with her blue eyes, and dainty hands, which have, at most, been exposed to clockwork, but without much risk.

“Laura! Your sister is looking for you!”

The captain’s call breaks the brief stare both parties had, as they return to their respective places in society.
The one thing that Laura remembers is the book that Oliver is reading, and remarks to herself that the boy is reading a slightly outdated manual. Her own hope is that she can provide a more relevant and updated manual, should the two ever meet, unlikely as that may be.
For Oliver, he has met the most beautiful woman in his life. However, knowing her to be a member of the gentry, he is resigned to thinking that he might never meet her again, unless he can do better as a technician.

As both parties resume their proper place within the fair, the sun slowly sets. However, the gaslights go up, and the light from the pageantry illuminates the evening sky.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKRHWT6xdEU
submitted by Oculusfluffy to fluffycommunity [link] [comments]


2020.09.18 00:16 Bookwizards As a killer main

Over it :^(. The game is too frustrating..
A bit upset over the amount of funds Behavior got from me, but I guess it was well spent for 1k hours of playtime. Anyways, more power to the killer mains that stick through this game and get better!
I definitely don't have it in me anymore.
Peace out girl scout <3
submitted by Bookwizards to deadbydaylight [link] [comments]


2020.09.17 19:41 Talen_Kurikson VorSeud: V.Human (Half-Gith) Psi-Knight + Hexblade : An attempt to Abuse Metabolic Control and Make a Fun Character

Morning all. Had an idea for a character that I've been fleshing out over the last few days. I saw the Metabolic Control feat in the Psionic Options Revisited UA release, and I really wanted to find a way to abuse it and make a fun character for an upcoming game. We're starting at level 8, so I had a little bit of flexibility.
Looking for thoughts, ideas, inspiration, and feedback. Thanks all!
Metabolic Control
Prerequisite: Psionic Talent feature or Wild Talent feat
You have refined psionic control over your body’s functions. You gain the following benefits:
•Increase your Strength, Dexterity, or Constitution score by 1, to a maximum of 20.
•If your Psionic Talent die is available, you can take an action to channel your psionic power to nourish yourself for the next 24 hours, as if you consumed sufficient food and water for a day. When you take this action, your Psionic Talent die decreases by one die size.
•If your Psionic Talent die is available, you can meditate for 1 minute, at the end of which you gain the benefits of finishing a short rest, and your Psionic Talent die decreases by one die size. You can’t meditate in this way again until you finish a long rest.
Loadout
Stats (including feats/racials): STR 8, DEX 14, CON 12, INT 16, WIS 10, CHA 16
Race: Variant Human (feat: Telekinetic)
Class: Fighter (Psi-Knight) 7, Warlock (Hexblade) 1
Fighting Style: Archery
Main Weapon: Hand Crossbow
Feats: Telekinetic (race, V.Human), Crossbow Expert (Fighter 4), Metabolic Control (Fighter 6)
Cantrips: Create Bonfire (Warlock), Mage Hand (Telekinetic feat), Prestidigitation (Warlock)
Spells: Hex, Protection from Good and Evil
The idea is to be flexible with the hand crossbow, so that I can be either in melee or ranged combat, utilizing the Crossbow Expert feat and Archery Fighting Style to ensure the ability to hit (+9 to hit) and to stay safe (+2 AC from Shield, which I can wield thanks to Crossbow Expert). Additionally, the GM has let us have 1 common magic item and 1 uncommon magic item. For my common magic item I went with Ruby of the War Mage, so that I can still cast while wielding the crossbow and a +1 Hand Crossbow to add some extra consistent chance to hit and damage.
The plan as I level up is to go 5 levels in Warlock for Pact of the Chain and 3rd-level spell slots, allowing me to heal far more with Second Wind, Short Rest healing, and magical healing from allies, and then utilizing the Darkness + Devil's Sight combo for some consistent advantage as well.
The rest of the levels will be in Psi-Knight (up to 15 levels) so that I can gain access to Bulwark of Force, allowing me to shield most of my allies with Half-Cover in the combats that need it. I also plan on taking Sharpshooter as soon as possible to increase my damage more significantly.
In the build, I've got 1 open Feat/ASI at the moment, and I could also replace 1 ASI with another feat if I can get 2 feats that increase CHA (for Hexblade goodness).
Level 20 Stats: STR 8, DEX 14, CON 12, INT 16, WIS 10, CHA 20
BACKSTORY
My name is VorSeud. I was born among the githzerai, but I have never truly been one of them. Something about my mixed blood weakened some of my natural githzerai gifts, and greatly accentuated others. When some of my Brothers, not brothers by blood, of course, but Brothers in the order, were harnessing the powers of their mind to read each other’s minds and to harness the chaos of Limbo, I was unable to hear their thoughts, and unable to form the order from chaos that they found so simple to manipulate. Meanwhile, while they struggled to lift more than a few pounds with their minds, I found I was able to fling masters across the room with ease. They could read thoughts with a natural ease, and communicate without words, whereas I could not so much as read even the most surface-level thoughts.
Do you know what it’s like to sit in a room which is totally and completely silent, knowing that all around you a conversation is happening, seeing the looks of joy, laughter, fear, pain, sorrow, confusion, and more, passing across the faces of everyone around, knowing that each person can hear your mind, and not being able to hear anything? It’s like being deaf, I imagine. And in a way, I was, at least as far as they were concerned.
I trained alongside my Brothers, though “Brothers” may not be the correct translation. I hear this word has “male” meanings, but our order welcomed all the children of the githzerai. I trained for decades, from the time before I can even remember, and all that time they spoke a language that was lost to me.
I could throw them around on the practice grounds, sure, but when your opponent can read your mind it’s much harder to plan your moves. I tried, I really did, forced myself to expand my mind until I blacked out from exposure to the chaos of Limbo or began to bleed from the ears and nose for my effort, but it never did any good.
My blood was tainted....is tainted, by the stain of my humanity. The elders would never tell me how I came to Shra'kt'lor; how my impure blood came to exist in Limbo; who my mother was; who my father was. Like my Brothers, I was raised in the monastery, studying philosophy and the teachings of Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith, our deity-king whose mind sustained our fortress cities in Limbo. As Shra’kt’lor’ians, we also studied military tactics and warfare, but the githzerai themselves are pacifists, so we studied to defend.
Perhaps that was where things started to go wrong for me.
We were supposed to be the faithful, the unquestioning, the moral defenders of law in the heart of chaos. I wondered, and asked, why we could not simply strike down evil where it lived, rather than simply waiting for evil to strike at us. The masters and my Brothers all gave the sort of answers we found in the teachings of Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith; platitudes of “right” and “wrong” which placed no moral imperative on us to act preemptively and which elevated to godliness the ideal of non-interference until after an atrocity had already occurred. I argued my point; researched the countless lives that could have been saved with more decisive actions; begged my Brothers and my teachers to understand the good we could do with our gifts, with my gifts, but they would not hear me.
I suppose by the time I made contact with...whatever spirit or entity now emboldens my steps, I was already something to be feared in their eyes. My contact with the entity has not made things any better, I fear.
The first time I felt the presence was just before the slaad attack. A man walked by me one afternoon, and I felt the most unsettling waves of nausea and pain as he did. Visions of his transformation into one of those demons swam through my head as he continued out into the center of town. I recognized him, though I did not know him well, as one of our outward scouts, returned recently from our outermost fortress city. His name was JedGher, and he had once trained my class in slaad tactics and signs, for defense of the city.
Seeing those visions, I thought I must have been tainted by the chaos of Limbo, and I immediately sought my teacher, desperately hoping she could block the horrible forces while my mind recovered. She did help me, and I recovered, in time, but the next day there were reports of a slaadi attack on the central spire. Apparently a scout had returned and had managed to disguise, either intentionally or not, his infestation. JedGher, or rather, the slaad that had burst from JedGher’s body, had made it nearly to the throne-chamber of Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith before it was finally slain, and it left dozens of our defenders slaughtered in his wake.
The next time I saw the visions was on a pilgrimage to the Floating City, religious seat of power for Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith. I was in a crisis of faith, then, having failed my trials to join the zerths. Though my psionic physical strength was nearly unmatched, my psionic mental abilities were abysmal, and I could not so much as convey telepathic emotions, let alone read the guarded minds of my opponents. It did not help that I relied too much on my psionic strength either, and in tests where psionic abilities were not allowed, the more agile or strong of my Brothers were easily able to overpower me.
During my pilgrimage to the Floating City, I passed a man who I presumed to be githzerai. When he abruptly pushed past me, I had visions of an explosion of sorts; of death and fire and the loss of a nautilus vessel. I turned to stop him, but when I called out to him he dashed into the street and vanished. I looked for him, but could find no sight of the man.
Two days later a nautilus vessel we had captured from the Illithids, with the intent to study and learn better how to destroy our age-old enemy, was destroyed by a doppelganger infiltrator. He was captured, and interrogated, where it was discovered that the creature had been hired by the illithids from whom the nautilus had been captured. Its mission was to destroy the nautilus if it could not be retrieved, and to kill as many githzerai in the process as it could.
By that point I was sure that either Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith or Zerthimon himself must be sending these visions to me, that I might save our people from harm, and I began to take heed of them. I enlisted immediately as a rrakkma, intent to join the fight to take down our age-old enemy, the illithids, in all the planes they struck into. The visions allowed me to identify illithid hosts even before they had transformed and dispose of them. At first, my commander thought I had gone insane, killing an innocent, but when I finally convinced him to look deeper into the head of the woman, which I had pierced quite neatly with my crossbow, he saw the truth of my claims. I could not explain to them the nature of my visions, though I tried. The very idea that Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith or Zerthimon would want them to kill someone who had not yet committed an atrocity was anathema to their beliefs, but they could not argue with my results.
I assume that clash of ideals is why they abandoned me here on this strange, immutable planet in the Material Plane. The people here are strange, though not so strange as I first thought upon my abandonment here. I despise their single-directional gravity, their lack of understanding of the illithid threat, the way they look at me, but I find that the visions have not abandoned me, even here on this place far from my home, and I find comfort that my mission continues. I have faith that my brethren will return for me, one day, when Zerthimon returns and asks for me or when Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith recalls me to our home, but until then my mission continues here.
My next target is a woman, a girl really, who it seems holds grand plans of burning down the home of a rival suitor for the hand of a young man in line for great riches. I have seen the fires; how they will spread far beyond the home this girl means to burn to engulf the entirety of the servants’ quarters and all those within in addition to her target; I have seen the way she will gaze on the inferno, uncaring and indifferent to those lives that are “beneath” her.
She dies, and I do not feel remorse. I gaze at her with the same uncaring, dispassionate gaze with which she gazed upon the servants’ quarters in my vision, and I watch as the light fades from her eyes. There will be no evidence of my passing, and they will assume that the girl was accosted by cutthroats in this alleyway. Exactly as I intended.
submitted by Talen_Kurikson to 3d6 [link] [comments]


2020.09.17 04:34 CherMarcellis [TOMT] [MOVIE] (Has to be from the 2000’s) A movie about a teenage boy who becomes the leader(?) of his little sister’s Girl Scouts(?)

(First of all, I’m sorry if this is confusing, I’ll try to tell you as much as I can remember)
The movie is about this teenage boy who for a reason I don’t remember he becomes the leader of his little sister’s Girl Scout group, I think it was because the previous leader retired or she fell ill or something. So he becomes the leader, but he doesn’t really want to, he makes the girls do his chores or things he doesn’t want to do himself and he gives them this batches that he made himself so that they won’t find out he’s just using them and are actually gaining batches.
At some point the girls find out, I don’t really know if there was someone else that knew about it but the important thing is that the teenage boy’s father found out. The boy is trying to be nice to his sister (doesn’t work), he asks his father to be grounded or something but his father doesn’t because “you want to be grounded to feel better, but that isn’t how your gonna fix your mistakes” (those aren’t the exact words). So the boy gets real batches, makes the girls do some detective stuff and that leads them to him, he gives them REAL batches for finding him and he offers them to work for their archery batches with him. They are doubtful but at the end they believe in him.
There were more things going on in the movie, like two or three, but the main plot is more important.
submitted by CherMarcellis to tipofmytongue [link] [comments]


2020.09.17 00:50 CommunistMeth [Resurrección] - Chapter 6

Start from the beginning! Chapter 1

Chapter 6: Seraxia

The air hung hot and heavy, both of the guards outside her door complained about the heat today, the streets of the river city Angsa didn’t serve as any source of relief to the senses, often crowded with people on their daily commutes, be it the iron mines or the port markets, the boisterous mass of voices often was overwhelming, worse yet the smells made many nauseous.
She had been writing for some hours in her vessel’s main chambers, while she wrote on recent events, she could not help but feel tense.
It was a feeling that she logically understood but still, it ate at her concentration, the words felt like they blurred together in a sluggish tone...
She looked down at her scrolls, the script was written with care, each stroke placed with such diligence, many refused to believe that a novice scholar like her could even perform such a deed.
At court, a rising star that burned many the wrong way, here she is in self-exile, thinking about how her words are grotesquely oversimplifying things. The careful strokes, out of place, the scrolls are too short, the ink is too thick and she stares at it with no solution.
“Lady Seraxia...my lady you are spacing out once again!” said her assistant Zilya.
Seraxia rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms, she took a sip of her wine before standing up, refusing to look at her work...
“Zilya how long has it been since we last left this chamber?” She had lost track of time if all truth had been told, she was under imperial orders to complete her task, but yet…
“It has been a little over a year, my lady, since her heavenly majesty granted you the honored title of Recorder, you zealously have been performing this duty with diligence my lady.”
Seraxia pushed in her chair and walked around her chambers, she came across the tall mirror close by her wardrobe. Zilya moved close and picked up a brush.
“My lady has been neglecting her care after she received the tragic news, it is my wish you give me the honor to tidy up her person.” Zilya bowed as she made her request.
Seraxia’s raven black hair that normally was a silken waterfall looked tangled and out of place, the amber strands that proudly noted her Kobei heritage became a grimy yellow.
Her eyes remained a rich hazel with her freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, her skin still smooth and without blemishes, but the lack of sleep and the crying had made her face puffy and bags under her eyes made her seem far older than she was. She placed her hand on her right cheek, slowly moving upwards and stopping where her ear used to be.
“The Empresses trusted me with this task Zilya, even with their deaths, I must continue in the name of the mother. You have my permission, please return me to my normal grace, I wish to travel.”
That took Zilya out of her usual complacent appearance and a deeply concerned expression came about.
“My lady wishes to travel, but where to, it is too dangerous to leave Angsa.”
Seraxia was all too aware of the dangers, the destruction of Faran took the entire kingdom by surprise but it was the flight of the Hima Clan and the arrest of Lady Izen that broke the illusion of stability, it opened up old rivalries and mistrust between the great families of the realm.
“The year is 430SE (Second Era) but this is truly the first year to a new age Zilya, the Age of the country at war, our people are in grave danger, more than they would like to think... I will travel across the lands before this gets worse, gather the lords who will listen and we shall form a coalition. By order of Empress Su, I shall not fail, I can’t fail or all under heaven shall suffer! With that in mind, in this age my dear Zilya nowhere is without dangers, we will have to brave the coming storms.”
Zilya smiled and began brushing Seraxia’s hair with gentle strokes.
“My lady has the gift of speech, with words like that, who would not listen to your call for a coalition, the mothers of the realm are sure to answer the call!”
“We shall go southeast toward the ruins of Faran, Hedeira is the closest safe settlement before we enter into Wa Province, I believe this to be a good place to speak with the remnant of the Hima Clan, Lady Osha will refuse me here, I have become painfully aware of that as of late.”
“The Osha are a proud but fickle clan when it comes to their interest, without the throne, they would likely become more self-absorbed hermits than they already are, forgive my blunt speech, my lady!”
Seraxia laughed, the humor in that jest was sweeter than the best wines to her.
The pair talked well into the night, stopping briefly as attendants came by to drop off food for the women, Zilya often took small breaks to take naps as Seraxia packed her belongings and sometimes conversing with her guards, one of which was a man named Hikaru, a scion of the impoverished Yasha-Shisa Clan. Hikaru along with his sister grew up with Zilya and all are steadfast attendants of Lady Seraxia as well as close friends. His sister served as Seraxia’s guard when Hikaru could not be present such as when meeting with other noble ladies and when she is in the restroom.
“My lady is certainly generous, Hedeira is likely the best place as you say for those fleeing Faran to regroup at, but how are we to travel there without getting caught up in the fighting, I am but an adequate warrior at best, I fear I cannot fend off so many troops.” Hikaru always humbly spoke of himself.
“You and your dear sister will be captains of my guard, as we travel, take down our banners and display the banners of traveling mummers, at least we will not have to worry about the warlords, as we get closer to Wa Province, it should be clear that my insignia must not be displayed.”
Hikaru moved his hand to his chin but then caught himself before completing his habit, having such a long beard, he often took to stroking it while pondering. For many, his habit was something to be looked over, but for Seraxia it was an annoyance.
“I think if we take the riverboats, it would be faster and safer for the trip, not to mention that most of the warlords are unlikely to take the Oyo as the river can handle only so much traffic.”
Zilya approached with her belongings wrapped around her torso via cape.
“Come to think of it, perhaps going by boat is smart, we already have a fine vessel, might as well keep her for this journey, what of the crew, do we have ample supplies to keep them fed?”
Zilya spoke up this time.
“We can go to the markets as we leave Angsa, I can go with Mizu and bring what we need my lady!”
The skin around her fingers was callous and torn, her shoulders had long lines of purple and red that contrasted with her pale skin. Zilya had carried their belongings since they fled the capital. All told, Clan Osakabe had a humble number of retainers, Hikaru and his sister Mizu being the leaders of her guard, Zilya being the head of the remaining servants.
“No my dear Zilya, I think I should go with Mizu and do this myself, you should rally everyone up for our departure.”
Zilya gave a bow and departed the chambers to complete her order.
“I shall tell Mizu to come to your quarters my lady, if it pleases you, I will go now.”
“Hikaru,” she said sharply.
“I am here!”
“Have her wounds healed, I mean, enough to…”
“The healers tried everything we could afford my lady, Mizu won’t be able to speak again.”
That put Seraxia’s mind into a dark place for a moment, she fiddled with her thumbs, this habit was something Hikaru knew well.
“She does not blame you, my lady, we serve to protect you from harm, she lost her voice, not because you made this happen, but because she was protecting her lady and our friend.”
“How do you know for sure?”
Hikaru laughed and twirled the ends of his beard.
“Because we are twins, we can read each other without words needing to be said, Mizu is after all my elder sister, it is my duty to know what she is thinking.”
Hikaru and Mizu were identical twins born simultaneously, but Mizu was shielding her brother they say since it was her head that appeared first for that split second, they declared she was the elder.
“Hikaru is a name traditionally reserved for a son who is seen as a loving and dutiful child, your parents had the foresight that I’ve read only the gods themselves could wield.”
They both laughed for a moment and Hikaru departed the chambers, Mizu soon came in and was informed of the plan, as everyone retired for the night. Seraxia laid out a scroll and began to write down a new entry.
The Second Era is well into its fourth century, since the arrival of the golden comet that marked the end of the long first era, the Second Era has been one of progress and reconstruction of many of the races on Kanui, the great civilization of the Yasser, the region we now call Yasserheim has been under the direct rule of the Imperial Clan, but not all have been progressive.
Since the eight century in the first era, the keepers of the great gardens, direct descendants of the goddess Bian, who was manifested on earth as the Lady Yubare were tasked with bringing fertility and peace to the desert lands. Her children became the Imperial Clan and for one thousand two hundred years, the clan has been the reason that Yasserheim has prospered so.
The past is looked on by many as a time of great prosperity, so enthralled with days long gone, they ignored the rising embers, consorts became power-seeking and a series of feeble royals led to a decline in power, manipulated by their attendants.
My name is Seraxia Osakabe, by the will of Empress Su and I was appointed as the Recorder of the Court seven years ago, but unable to fulfill my duties due to my house arrest.
The days at court grew cold, ministers schemed against each other and power shifted to the hands of the Great Mothers of our kingdom. Their allegiances proved convenient as they embarked only on their gains instead of giving the court their words.
Great changes during the current Era have shaken the status quo.
The Consort’s War almost twenty years ago showed just how fragile the central authority had become, the consort Maskaris to the Empress Rin lost his status as consort-emperor and rebelled to install his disinherited but talented daughter on the throne, though lasting fourteen months, the war devastated the southern lands and allowed for it to be invaded by the Empire of Tasila to our east while they were still embroiled in their Imperial Wars (376-412)
Years later in the year 419, the Empress Rin died and her niece and her daughter assumed the thrones as Empress Ko and Su respectively, both in the middle years and mother of a great many children. To our northeast, the famous Lord of the Green Horn, Wolfgang Azincor, known as The Magnificient, declared Hegemony of Aquitaine. In 421 while campaigning he came across a young Huna girl name Leira Quihadi and raised her alongside his children, years later after being accused of murdering the Crown Prince of Tasila, the Empire invaded Aquitaine, thus starting the War of the Red Crown, eventually being declared King by his people.
Simultaneously, his famous adventuring brother, Sir Jean of Azincor rallied tens of thousands to join his expedition to the northern islands of Misklos and before the year was done, conquered major portions of that island, declaring himself King of Matilas and all the while taming two dragons it is said, both not of our Asha Naki family but a different species altogether.
We took the time to ally ourselves with the brother Kings, reconquered the south, appointing various new clans to administer and safeguard the region. Peace came to our kingdoms in 426, followed by raising issues amongst the clan mothers.
King Jean the Conqueror sent one of his Princes, Crown Prince Alucar, and his wife Matahari, one of the dragons subdued during the conquest to initiate trade contracts with our kingdom. Matahari the dragoness, a member of their self-named people, the “Calcamul” dragons that can transform into a similar form as us and mankind, was a marvel to behold and unlike the Asha, these Calcamul were completely interested in mingling with their peers.
Many refused to deal with the upstarts, citing abuses and ignorance of proper custom, a lowly Crown Prince should not be able to directly speak to their Majesties, while Empress Su was eager to secure an alliance and trade, Empress Ko opposed it.
Some believed the young Empresses should take to gaining favor with the newer race, but tradition sees the Asha as sacred and divine, and an offshoot of the dragon race to be seen as inferior. The dispute even trickled down to the peasantry, many forming Ashanko gangs that often battled with Camulas over land disputes and other trivial matters, representing the two dragons, each side believes it would guide them to victory.
Trade opened up and many including myself prospered from this increase of goods. The people began experiencing a variety of luxuries and pleasure goods never before seen in our lands, the social order long thought sacred was turned upside down and many regional clans began to speak in court uninitiated, claiming that this new phenomenon would lead to a loss of central power, meaning theirs.
The Empress Ko agreed with these clans, while Empress Su favored the others, a rift in court formed on that day, although no one said so, factions formed, and the mothers of the realm vied for recognition and power while still subservient to the Empresses in name.
I gave my personal opinions on such matters to Empress Su, told her how the realm cannot suffer such division, but she assured me all would be fine, her children were working to unify the parties as one.
The Third of these great events came almost two years later with reported feuding in the southern regions, the Clans there long chaffed from central interventions and disobeyed orders to cease their private wars. They burned crop fields, their urban supports firebombed homes, palaces and the peasants refused to work during such conflicts, hoarding their goods and becoming beacons to be sacked. Lady Hima led a punitive expedition south and exterminated both clans, in her report she spoke of dark images and incoherent ramblings from the inner walls of the last castle, Yarbol Castle. The siege was brutal by all accounts and those that survived still today speak very little of their time, but Lady Hima wrote in a report,
“The kingdom needs its majesties as the natural order depends on those who sits on the throne. I implore you to unite our people, a storm is coming but from which direction I cannot say, believe me, those of us that sieged Yarbol, a cold wind will blow through the capital soon, for the good of the nation, you must prepare or flee!”
This is the 4th of Sengu Shizo, Four -Thirty of the Second Era, I am Seraxia Osakabe, Court Recorder, appointed by her holy majesty herself...I cannot fail.
Seraxia looked at her work with a reassuring smile, each character had emotion and each stroke was perfect, at last, the solution was completed.
She placed down her brush, wiped the beads of sweat from her brow, and raised from her seat and onto her cot. Her eyes drifted, unfocused, and blurry until it all went dark.
The morning was much the same as the last, sweat fell onto the decks in chunks at such a rate that people often needed to stop for water along the route. The river Oyo was left in a suspended state of low hanging mist that seemed to cling to the surface, panicking whispers muffled by the mist formed pockets of sound and as they moved slowly forward, a breach would form and the crew would listen to the eerie voices. An occurrence that was fairly common on the Oyo, many of the sailors lived on the river all their lives, but today was strange as the fog never let up, thankfully most were guided by the current, some ships weren’t so lucky and crashed upon embankments and rock formations.
“My lady, should we go back below deck?” asked Zilya, her friend wielded a massive feather fan while holding an umbrella over Seraxia, earlier she tried to fan her mistress but found it causing more harm than relief.
“Not yet, someone must keep an eye for the docks and the captain is down below getting healed.”
Zilya looked at the fog surroundings and then looked up at the sky, it too was smothered by the mist.
“Lady Seraxia has been exposed to this snarring mist for five hours, I suggest we go below and change, we should be in Hedeira soon.”
Seraxia gave in, her blouse was soaked with sweat, and the makeup running down her cheeks stung as it dried in the heat.
As they entered her cabin, Zilya already had make-up and wardrobe prepared much to her surprise.
“How long have you had this set-out?” She asked, truly the sense of time was distorted by the heat, Zilya smiled.
“Since noon, but you are here now, get ready my lady, I believe it will be docking soon, the captain was on his way up when we were coming in.”
“Right,”
Sure enough, through the port windows, She could see boats chained and linked together in rows as the ship came to a stop. After getting everything settled, Seraxia as well the rest of the crew below decks emerged. The mist wasn’t nearly as thick, the docks at Hedeira were home to the Xhorau, or the river people for those that don’t speak the eastern dialects. Most people on this sweltering day seemed to keep clear of the docks, no port official nor harbormaster came to greet them as they unloaded the ship’s haul. The few Xhorau they saw were older residents armed with their blowguns but no one paid them any mind, they watched vigilantly over their surroundings, but never in her direction.
“Strange, this place is normally packed with officials, Hikaru, hear my orders!”
The advancing sounds of his boots came echoing from behind her.
He donned full armor complete with his custom facemask, a blue and golden dragon’s muzzle with ornate fangs. He bent his knee and lowered his head in obeisance.
“Scout ahead and find where everyone has gone!”
A melody formed from the flexible strings of a zither faintly could be heard as she gave him her orders, the sound didn’t go unnoticed by Hikaru as he rose to his feet and searched around.
The mist cleared more as Hikaru led Seraxia off the pier and near the civil registry complex, the white and gold tiled roofs were signs of prosperity in this region, but the complex itself looked abandoned.
“The music is getting louder my lady, have Mizu stay by your side, I shall go inside and inquire about this business.”
“There would be no need of that young sir, it is no danger to you at all!” A voice from inside said calmly.
Hikaru opened the door, the air inside was freezing but relieving from the heat as well.
Playing the zither was an ancient elf who appeared to be youthful in his movements despite the advanced appearance of his person.
“I take you to be the Recorder, you are an Osakabe hmm, of course, you are.”
The melody he played continued without missing a note, the ancient’s eyes were closed yet his head followed Hikaru as he circled the room looking for any signs of strangeness.
He had a ruddy complexion in his skin tone and his hair shined a glossy silver despite being indoors, his ears were prominent and featured many rings of gold. His beard was short and well-trimmed but he had very thin eyebrows, and he bore an insignia banner on his robe.
“Wait,” She stared at the insignia and it dawned on her.
The ancient laughed as he finished the melody.
“I am Master Komai, of the Kamalu, and you are Lady Seraxia, heaven indeed is boundless, we have finally met!”
“Seraxia bowed and Komai was suddenly raising her shaking his head while giving a Tsk-Tsk to her.”
“You have been without knowledge so long my Lady, it is improper of someone with higher status to bow to an inferior, please do rise.”
Seraxia did as she was asked, she felt hot, not from the heat but anxiety.
“Inferior-No, no never, you are my superior, not only in rank but in age, please-” she said with haste, the words tripped over each other and he rose his hand to her, his eyes still closed all the while and the zither still stringing notes as if he was still there to pluck them.
“Your heart races faster than a falling star, my lady would breathe a while, I am sure you have questions friends, I shall answer.”
Seraxia’s subordinates gave a bow to the master and sat as he went back to his zither.
“I am the Imperial Tutor Komai of the Kamalu Clan, most have not seen my face or person in a little over five hundred years or so. This is because I was imprisoned in the capital, first under house arrest within the palace, then in the last seventy-four years within the diamond dungeons beneath the Forbidden Palace. Still, I performed my duty with the use of various castings and incantations, puppet clones, and even occasionally through nothing more than pieces of parchment.”
He began playing a new melody, the notes sounded like thousands of birds were chirping in unison, the master’s eyes remained closed throughout their entire interaction but now they opened, his eyes were small but the amber color shined beautifully, age has done nothing to dim his internal youth, inside him burned ten suns.
“How did you come to escape the palace Master Komai?” Zilya asked.
“A thief who was wondering the prison freed many of those locked down there, including me, sadly in the chaos that followed the death of her majesties, I was unable to stay with my savior, but I foresaw our path shall cross once more in a few days. The stars above shift, changing always much like our beings, but if one can read the stars successfully, they can get a message unlike any composed on earth. In this message, I saw this temple in danger, so I made my way north.”
“In danger?” Hiraku asked the melody missed a note, Komai lifted his hands and fixed some strands of his silver hair that fell out of place.
“The Allauti has risen once more, but I sense that once again, brave souls have come forth to fight this great evil of heaven, this temple was intended to be a breeding ground, to turn the God Ninniku’s holy site into a fountain of blood and bone.”
Hikaru rubs his beard and sat silent as Komai continued.
“The mothers of the realm have gone feral so to speak, without a majesty, the mothers fall back onto their primal desires, old grudges resurface, many argue over a bowl of rice that is half full, debating its use. There have been of course many attempts to curtail the violence, Lady Izen was the Imperial Regent for all of six months, but the implications of her children as members of the cult that killed Empress Ko and her heirs. Before the gates of this holy place, you will see the bodies of the fallen Allauti who came to attack, the mist has been unusual many of you have likely noticed...”
He continued to play the melody without issue.
“This is a casting of my design, Veil of Purification, I prepared this for nearly a decade to fight these cursed souls, the river Oyo just happened to be the best place to cast it; this heat, while intense has another source, purification is more or less under the element of Fire, to clear the undead, one must need to burn them.”
Seraxia had not thought of that, though the annals say that without an Empress, the land of Yasserheim would turn against those who live on it, she was never well versed in the combative arcane, much less holy magic.
“So you’ve been combating the undead this entire time, why is it the inside of this building is cold?” she asked. The zither strings snapped, Komai looked displeased.
“Because of course, I don’t like the heat!” the ancient Komai began laughing.
He rose and began walking in circles, as he did so, the windows and doors swung open and the mist came inside, then as if he was the drain of a sink, the mist came to him, and then it was gone.
“The people of this temple have been evacuated by servants of the god Koshin, I do intend for both parties to meet here so that we can discuss how to restore heaven.”
“Master Komai, we would need to find a princess to even start such a task, this was the edict given to my Lady, her majesty had many daughters and many have yet to give up their imperial seals.”
“I am well aware Zilya Aun, it just so happens I know the whereabouts of four of her majesty’s children and one more imperial descendant.”
The group began murmuring to each other before the master rose up and then bowed to Lady Seraxia.
“Most do not know of the Osakabe heritage, but I was the one present when your great grandsires were demoted from the clan as a branch family, Lady Seraxia, you must use this to our advantage to restore heaven, only then can we bring the late majesties wishes to reality, announce your place as an Imperial Daughter!”
submitted by CommunistMeth to redditserials [link] [comments]


2020.09.16 06:29 KingWraithX Spin Off Concept: A series based around the rise of the next Dark Lord!

Hi, aspiring author and life long Harry Potter fan. First time posting on this sub.
So this is a writing exercise I do with other sub Reddit’s. It’s basically elevator pitch fan fiction if anything. I pitch an idea that seems plausible and sticks with the canon. I know it’s odd, but I find it fun and I hope to entertain people during quarantine.
Also a quick thank you to all the Harry Potter fan fiction writers. Especially those were active during 2012-2015. Your writing is one of the major factors that pushed me into wanting to be a writer. So thank you and never stop writing!
With that out of the way here’s my concept:
It would be the antithesis to Harry’s story. I considered a Tom Riddle story, but he’s pure fucking evil and that’s hard to empathize with.
So this is a story set during the modern era, retconning the Cursed Child.
The story would follow Virgil Lord, a member of an Old Wizarding family, that was driven out of England for crimes in the 1800’s. Several generations have sworn an Unbreakable vow to never speak of their families history. They are told the full history on their 17th birthday, and then are forced into eternal silence. For extra measure they changed their names when arriving in America (this will be revealed later but take your guesses).
It took 300 years, but they were able to rebuild their fortune and regain prominence as an American Magical Family. They specialize in the sale and mass production of magically modified Muggle objects (flying cars, Private Portkeys, Bottomless trunks, unbreakable glasses, etc). They’re legit, respected, and are surprisingly humble. A far cry from their British Ancestors.
As for Virgil, he would be considered a Squib if it wasn’t for his burst of accidental magic. It could be something as a small as turning their dog purple, or something as extreme as turning a street into water. Everytime he touches a wand it explodes.
He’s loved by his parents, Tolliver and Daria, but through bouts of accidental Legilimency (Mind Reading), he knows he’s an embarrassment to them.
So for the first 10 years of his life, he’s confined mostly to his house in Merlin County, a private Wizard community located upstate New York. He’s left with a team of nanny’s, tutors, chefs and doctors the majority of the time. His wing of the castle is warded with dozens off protective spells, to keep his bouts of accidental magic from affecting the rest of the family. His only friends are his chef Ms. Spring and his Goblin tutor Mr. Warcal.
His older siblings, Hugo and Wanda, more or less ignore him when they’re home, treating him as if he was a Squib. The young socialites were already 3rd years at Ilvermorny, and more interested in becoming the Wizard equivalent of Influencers.
Virgil’s hope is that he’d be able to go to Ilvermorny once he turned 11. He counted down the days until he would get the letter.
On his 11th birthday, one of the few instances he got to spend more than a few hours with his family, an eagle delivers his letter. His family crowds around him as he opens the letter. The letter starts shaking violently in his hand, before finally exploding, screeching out:
“DENIED!”
In the envelope there is a lengthy letter explaining that due to Virgil’s erratic magic and the Protection Against Potential Obscurials Act of 1930 or PAPO Act, they not only denied his enrollment, but also banned him from ever stepping foot on their grounds.
Enraged and offended, over the next few weeks Virgil’s parents send numerous letters to the School Board, offering millions of Dragot’s to let him in. The laws are, unfortunately, iron clad. Virgil is left heartbroken and for the first time, willingly secludes himself in his wing.
The Lord’s begin to apply to every major wizarding school around the world. Most of them, quickly denied. Except one, Hogwarts.
Due to the administration of Hermione Granger-Weasley, low level magic users that would once be considered Squibs, were now allowed to attend Hogwarts.
So, Virgil and Mr. Warcal goes school shopping in Robin’s Corner (Modernized, American version of Diagon Alley, kind of like a high end mall). They get the essentials, books, a pet eagle that he names Solo, and has his robes ordered from Diagon Alley. Finally, he goes to get his wand.
Which, of course, ends horribly. Ever wand he tries to use explodes. After going through 30 wands and nearly blowing up the building, the wand maker stops giving him wands. He gives him two buckets of old wands that he can burn through, and hopefully one MIGHT work.
On September 1st, Virgil portkeys to Hogwarts, saying goodbye to Ms. Spring and Mr. Warcal. His parents gave him a quick goodbye and a portkey the night before. They thought riding on a train was “undignified and outdated” so had a long distance portkey custom made.
Within seconds he’s transported right next to the line of first years, puking his guts out on an older, red haired boy. The boy tries to attack him, but his quickly held back by his friends.
Embarrassed, he quickly tries to hide himself within the crowd. They of course make it to the main hall, with the red haired boy, a Prefect by the name of Louis Delacour, glaring daggers at Virgil.
They of course get a formal welcome by Professor Slughorn (aka Mister Can’t Be Fired), who of course is scouting for the children of affluent, and exceptional wizards.
The Sorting ceremony commences, and finally when it gets to “Virgil Lord”, the room erupts in chatter. As Virgil makes his way up to the Sorting Hat, words like “Squib”, “Obscurial”, and “Hermit” catch his attention. He prays that he gets into any house but Slytherin. He takes his seat and the hat is put on his head.
The hat is silent for a few seconds, before telling Virgil that it’s been a long time since he’s had “One of you” in this chair. Virgil pleads with him to put him in anything but Slytherin. The Sorting Hat only replies with “trust me”.
“SLYTHERIN!”
The color drains from his face and the room goes silent, and Virgil awkwardly makes his way to the Slytherin table. All the students from every house give him death stares and he sits down at an empty spot on the far end of the table.
You see, in my version of the post Deathly Hallows world, everything that happened in the original series dug a bigger hole for Slytherins. The hatred had gotten extremely volatile. Being sorted into Slytherin was painting a large target on your back. Hell, there was even talk for a few years to completely get rid of Slytherin, but was eventually shot down after lengthy debates.
Over the next few weeks, things were pretty bad for Virgil. Due to parents concern he‘s an Obscurial and no one wanting to room with him, a small subsection of the dungeons, far from anyone, was converted into his dorm room. Being used to isolation, this didn’t bother him.
When classes started, that’s when his trouble began. Everytime he attempted magic, his wand would shatter into a million pieces. He could do the written work and most potions, but just could not cast a single spell. In one instance a girl’s hair turned to icicles.
This alienated him even more, causing many students, especially Gryffindors (courtesy of Louis). His shoe laces would be hexed together, his books would fly out his bag, and his robes would temporarily be turned a bright pink.
He talked with his family when he could, them usually being to busy to stay on the line for more than a few minutes. Ms. Spring sent him cookies and Mr. Warcal would send him the occasional book.
He usually found himself eating with a werewolf named Franklin and daughter of former Death Eater double agents Georgina. They never spoke, just enjoyed being around people not trying to make their lives hell.
It all came to a head during their first flying lesson. Virgil was of course having trouble controlling his broomstick. He tried to command it and it wouldn’t move. A group of Ravenclaws watched him, throwing pebbles at his head. One of them through a much larger rock at his shoulder, leaving a deep cut.
Virgil screamed in anger and pain, causing all the brooms to go flying into air, and quickly fall to the ground, breaking into pieces.
In shock, Virgil was quickly rushed to the Medical office and patched up.
Virgil decided to skip lunch and dinner, choosing to avoid people for the weekend and confine himself to his room for as long as he could.
Upon entering his room, he noticed a black envelope with a green trim around its edges.
Confused, Virgil opened and read the letter.
In it was a lengthy letter from a man referring to himself as “Mr. Graves”. The letter primarily consisted of Mr. Graves empathizing with Virgil’s situation. Far from home, seemingly surrounded by enemies from all sides, and not fully understanding his power. He reassures him that things will not always be this way. He offers to talk to Virgil when can, and to leave any letters under his pillow.
The letter ends with:
“Your Friend, Mr. Graves”
Inside the envelope were two pages torn from a two different books. The first one is a guide on how to brew potions without the use of the wand, and another with simple protection spells that can be done without a wand.
Virgil writes a letter and leaves it under his pillow. The next morning, his letter is gone and is replaced with another Black envelope.
Over the next 3 weeks, Mr. Graves and Virgil are constantly exchanging letters. Anytime he put a letter under his pillow, A black envelope would appear. It got to a point where Virgil would stop between classes to leave and retrieve letters.
They talked about a variety of things. Wizard history, forgotten spells, potions far too advanced for any Hogwarts student, and various ways the Virgil could protect himself. There were a few times Mr. Graves would send Virgil pages on wand control, but they never worked.
The protective spells definitely made his life easier, but his correspondence with Mr. Graves made him feel HEARD for once. Stranger or not, it was nice for him to finally have a friend.
One night after dinner, Virgil excitedly went to recover a letter. In it contained an emerald key and a list of instructions.
The letter referred to the key as “a gift that will lead to another gift.” It instructed him to blow a hole into his left wall, and to continue from there.
Virgil hesitated for a few moments, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. He decided to grab a wand out of his bucket and try to cast a random spell. The wand of course exploded and the middle of the wall exploded.
To his shock, a thin, winding staircase was behind the wall. He cautiously made his way down the dark stairway, the wall reforming behind him.
Torches with bright green fire light up as he made his way down the stairs.
At the end of the stairs was a cold room, with obsidian floors. It was the size of a baseball field, with large black gate in front of it. At the top the gate, in jagged letters was a sentence the made Virgil’s heart drop.
“The Library of Salazar Slytherin”
——————————————————————-
That’s the end of part 1. I’m sorry I kinda got carried away with the story, because I am very bored lol. I hope those who read it enjoyed, and if y’all want I can make a part 2! Also I would love to see if someone can guess who Virgil’s ancestors were! It’s the last thing anyone would expect but I’m curious!
submitted by KingWraithX to harrypotter [link] [comments]


2020.09.15 23:12 SabatonBabylon [OC] Chronicles of the Siren War [Chapter 63]

Previous First
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A/N: Please consider supporting my writing efforts on Patreon. You can follow this story and be alerted when new chapters release via fanfiction.net.
No, this story is not 'off hiatus' yet, but I pieced together some text I had written a while ago and the rest over the last few weeks and it would seem a crime to withhold it from you all. I do not know when Chapter 64 will be here. I'm sorry.
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“Hiryuu! HIRYUU!” Soryuu sobbed, gasping for air as her eyes burned with the warm salt of tears. From the very first moment of her existence, the instant her cubes had resonated with her hull, she had felt a presence at her side, striding alongside her through hell and high water. That presence was suddenly gone. For the first time in her life she was truly and utterly without her stupid, loveable, brawler of a sister. Surrounded by burning oil and sinking ships, cries for help from survivors, and the impending battleships of the Union, honor ceased to matter. Nobility in death was well and good when meditating on morality over a cup of tea with Lady Kaga. It meant nothing as she watched half of her sister’s ship sink beneath the waves, the second half soon to follow.
“On your knees and hands on your head, unless you want to end up like her,” a stern voice ordered from her back. Soryuu turned to find a raven-haired bombshell walking towards her, her stockings and deep blue uniform singed and torn. Her rigging even featured a disabled main battery, but every other gun was pointed straight at her.
“Y-you?!” she spoke as the Union battleship continued to advance across her flight deck.
“Do what I say, unless you wish to die in service to the generals who just abandoned you,” the battleship insisted. The carrier attempted to launch a couple of cards at her, but Pennsylvania already had her guns aimed and at the ready, firing the moment Soryuu moved her arms. She gasped in pain and fell to her deck as her ears rang and her head swam with stars.
“Why? How?” she wondered futilely as Pennsylvania loomed over her, rigging pointed at her head as she brushed the hair out of her eyes.
“The older sisters always seem to have some fight in them it seems. You have two options, rabbit. Surrender to Commander Andrew Thorson or suffer the death you so richly deserve,” the battleship laid out the terms clearly.
“Just do it then,” Soryuu whispered sadly, looking across the sea at the Tennessee. Only the tip of the Hiryuu’s bow could be seen anymore.
“I suppose some of you really do believe in that honor above all horse shit,” Pennsylvania scoffed. “You’d really leave your sister behind just for the sake of your own conscience?”
“Do not toy with me, Union warrior. You have won your victory, now end it so I may join my sister in the afterlife.”
“The hell are you talking about?” Pennsylvania demanded, surveying the ocean around them where triage and rescue operations were in full swing. Thorson’s injured were already aboard the Akashi, with those capable of continued sailing scouring the battlefield for usable cubes, surviving Sakura shipgirls, or the wisdom cubes that marked the graves of others fallen in combat. “Tennessee, status?”
“Toughest bitch I’ve ever fought. She should be dead but she isn’t. Get that other one in chains and let’s get back to Thorson.”
“Understood,” Pennsylvania acknowledged before turning to Soryuu. “Your sister is alive, but barely. Surrender your shard to us and I’ll take you to her immediately. Fight and you will die.”
“Hiryuu… you must be lying!” Soryuu snapped in desperation. “I can no longer sense her!”
“Because Tennessee slugged the ever-loving shit out of her you dumb fucking rabbit. I don’t have time for this!” Pennsylvania suddenly roared, green eyes alight with fury. “You murdered my sister and friends! You think I’d be trying to keep you alive? What I am trying is to keep myself from ripping your throat out and shoving a barrel down your neck! Now choose before I disobey my commanding officer and end your miserable life!”
Soryuu could only blink in shock as her analytical mind did its best to overcome the perceived death of her sister and analyze the situation. Though the Union woman was her enemy, her logic was sound. Even if the Union planned to interrogate her and the story about Hiryuu was a lie, she could simply end her own life upon verifying her sister’s demise. Accepting that surrender was the prudent course of action, Soryuu nodded and pushed herself into a kneeling position, hanging her head in shame. She grimaced as a sudden pain assaulted her, grasping at the back of her neck. Something burned there, something that should not have been. She tore at it before Pennsylvania could stop her, relief washing over her as power drained from her body along with something else. It was like a drunkenness had been magically dispelled from her mind, one she’d not even been aware of until that moment. She and Pennsylvania both watched as the pale red shard in her bloody hand cracked and fell to dust, blown away by the wind along with a good deal of her strength. “What in the name of the gods just happened?”
“You’ll have plenty of time to think about it in captivity. Now come, Sakura,” Pennsylvania ordered, hoisting her up onto her shaking feet and prodding her from behind. “Let it not be said the Union is full of liars. Commander Thorson will decide your fate.”
“And my comrades? Does his mercy extend to them?” Soryuu wondered, knowing that as pieces went she was far more valuable than a pawn.
Pennsylvania answered shortly. “Those who managed to survive.”
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“Hmm, Laffey may have gone a little overboard. Excuse me please,” the sleepy voice requested, blowing down the door to Hiei’s bridge with her twin rigging pistols. It was not hard to find the shipgirl within the blackened room, her pale skin, ivory horns, and white clothing the only things in the space that weren’t charred or burned. Laffey stood silently in the doorway, surveying her work with sleepy, sad eyes. “Laffey is sorry, but you hurt the Commander.”
An awful, wheezing sound came faintly from Hiei’s throat. Laffey’s ears twitched as she moved to the fallen battleship’s side. An expanse of raw, burned tissue covered the left side of her face and seemed to extend down her neck and along her body, marring her otherwise pristine beauty. Her port side had taken the full force of the attack. “Laffey is not a nurse, no no. Commander would be sad if she killed you now that you are no longer a threat. Miss Colorado?”
“I read you, Laffey. One of the prisoners is apparently her sister ship. What’s the status of that charred tub?” the battleship wondered, impressed that even after the attack it was still afloat at all.
“Laffey needs your strength please, big and strong battleship. Laffey did not kill her, but if nothing is done Laffey is pretty sure she will die.”
“By my main batteries, repeat that! You’re saying she survived?!” the perpetually calm Colorado gasped.
“Please, Miss Colorado. Laffey does not have enough alcohol to disinfect all of the burned skin,” the destroyer explained.
“Oh hell, I’m on my way,” Colorado affirmed, leaping from her ship onto the water’s surface. “Maryland, West Virginia, scout the area where the other battleship and that heavy cruiser went down. We have a survivor over here.”
“Understood, sister.”
-----
If Commander Thorson had thought the chaos would end with the retreat of Akagi and Kaga, he was wrong. Aboard the Akashi, the controlled mayhem of triage and post-battle first aid reigned. The repair ship featured a large medical bay designed for shipgirls, and the beds were filling by the minute. Many of them were occupied by his own ships, those who needed to be tended to before they could join in the search and rescue missions that were ongoing. He sat between Yamashiro and Fusou, each of whom had suffered serious fire damage to their superstructures on account of their size, their position as flagships, and the fact that Akagi and Kaga had singled them out as traitors.
“Easy now, it’s healing,” he offered, moving Yamashiro’s hand away from a jar of secret coolant. He replaced the washcloth he’d been using to soothe Fusou’s burns in a tub of cold water and offered her the drink himself. “Both of you did exceptionally well. I’m very proud of you.”
“Tono-sama,” Yamashiro murmured sweetly, leaning over to sip through the straw. She sighed contentedly when she was finished, and he wiped the sweat from her body. Both she and Fusou had been stripped naked on Akashi’s orders so that the full extent of the damage could be assessed, but no one seemed particularly off put or aroused by the circumstance. All that mattered was caring for his girls, and to his great relief the power of their cubes was restoring the angry, red patches of skin to their pristine, smooth, creamy state minute by minute. Another had not been so lucky.
“Commander Thorson!” Colorado shouted from the doorway as Laffey cleared a path for them. In the battleship’s arms was a tall, horned woman with long black hair and burns the likes of which he’d only seen once before, during Pearl Harbor. “The woman Laffey attacked is alive, but she’s in a bad, bad way.”
“Place her here, nyaa! The sheets are sterile. Akashi will go find another IV bag. Bulins, Akashi wants a full evaluation upon her return!” the minty kitty ordered before scampering off on all fours. The white-haired mechanics snapped to attention and surrounded Colorado, offering aid and guiding her to the open bed. From the back of the room, one of the prisoners stood suddenly.
“Hiei?! Oh gods, what happened to-”
“Sit down Sakura, now,” Tennessee growled, seated at the end of the room where Hiryuu lay unconscious and bandaged in bed, taking in coolant from an IV drip. “I don’t care if you look like a Royal, no sudden moves.”
Kongou, who had been disabled but not gravely wounded in the battle, could do nothing but watch as her sister was laid down nearby. Her clothes needed to be cut away, the burns were so bad. “Why… Why isn’t she healing?”
“Go, tono-sama,” Fusou urged. “We will recover.”
With a curt nod, Thorson stood and walked over to inspect Laffey’s grisly work. Both the destroyer and Colorado stood nearby, silent and looking almost guilty. He spoke with them first. “You’re both well?”
“Yes sir.”
“Laffey is just fine, yes yes.”
“Good,” he rubbed her between the ears and saluted Colorado. “If that burned out wreck is still seaworthy, move the human survivors to it and we’ll give it a tow to Midway. We don’t have the manpower to keep human prisoners on our ships.”
“Yes sir, it will be done,” Colorado saluted in return, straightening her high collar and leading Laffey from the medical bay. Thorson was left to review Hiei’s condition, her bed surrounded by frantically working bulins who were covering her burned skin with sterile gauze and hooking her up with fluids in her relatively unscathed right arm. Maimed men were bad enough, a sight and smell to turn the stomach. Seeing a once proud Sakura battleship in such a condition made his heart tighten with guilt.
“Why isn’t she…” Kongou gasped quietly. Thorson turned to face her. He’d never seen a Sakura with such a light complexion as her.
“How is your arm and neck?” he demanded, taking note of the sling and bandages. Kongou glared at him but replied courteously.
“Fine, enemy commander.”
“Not shikikan? What is your name.”
“Kongou, lead battleship of the Kongou class and proud warrior of the Sakura.”
“Spare me,” Tennessee demanded, her guns still trained on the other blonde battleship.
“Thank you Tennessee, but let’s not antagonize her further. I don’t think I need to tell you what you’d do if California looked like that,” Thorson guessed. Tennessee accepted the point and tipped her cap. Her sister had needed a couple bandages and a drink before heading back out to participate in the rescue mission. That alone was reason to celebrate. “Kongou, I cannot say for sure but I will give you my best guess. Your sister’s cubes have expired… or they have been damaged in some way I don’t understand. Frankly I’m amazed her body is still holding on. We will do everything we can to help her.”
“Why should I trust you?” Kongou asked helplessly, watching as her sister’s entire left side was slowly covered in gauze. All she could do was give thanks that Hiei’s eyes, hair, and the majority of her face and body appeared undamaged.
“Other than the fact that you have no other option?” Thorson pointed out. “Because I want as many of you Sakura in my fleet as I can get. Your Siren masters need to be put in their place. Many of your comrades seem to agree.”
“Kongou, you can believe him,” Fusou added quietly from her bed, coughing quietly.
“You will forgive me if I do not take the words of a traitor so easily, shrine-keeper,” Kongou bowed politely. Fusou seemed unworried.
“I believe we will have some time as we travel home. If you will listen, I will tell you why Yamashiro and I fled the Sanctuary,” she promised. Kongou had no reply.
“How bad is it?” Thorson asked the chief bulin as Akashi returned with morphine, disinfectant, and more coolant.
“Unlikely she will fight again, buli,” the mechanic replied as Akashi nodded her head sadly.
“Akashi has not seen this since Amagi-sama fell ill. With luck we will not lose another. Shikikan, you are in the way please. Nyaa nyaa, what a mess.”
“Right, sorry,” Thorson muttered, finally tearing his eyes away from Hiei. By his orders a being of incredible grace and beauty had been permanently scarred. He suddenly felt as though he could remain no longer. On the way out to deck he passed a sleeping Cassin as well as Minneapolis and South Dakota, both of whom were resting and recovering. The battleship’s revealing attire showed off ample bruising, scrapes and cuts, but she remained defiant. “The two of you doing alright?”
“We’re Indians, Commander,” Minneapolis provided simply. “Your kind could not exterminate us. It would take a hell of a lot more than that to finish the job. It was a fine hunt though. I eagerly await our next one.”
“Let’s get ourselves recovered first, and then we’ll see about chasing down those foxes,” Thorson agreed, bringing a smile to Minnie’s face as she laid back and rested her head in her lap, indulging in a well-earned snooze on a surface more comfortable than any pillow, her own thighs. “Dakota?”
“I am well, Commander. A shield does not complain about such paltry things.”
“You are a woman, South Dakota, and one of the reasons we survived today’s action. I’ll be recommending you for combat honors when we return to the base,” he stated simply, knowing she preferred blunt conversation.
“That is the best news Foo and I have heard today, at least since we learned that Miss Houston is only lightly injured,” Kasumi added, her presence almost nothing as she tended gently to her battleship partner. Thorson had barely noticed she was there. “Congratulations, Miss Dakota.”
“I see,” the dark-skinned battleship replied, looking down at her hands. “Thank you, Commander.”
“Oh and before you go, Commander, there’s something you should know,” Minnie jumped back in. “That horned girl, Portland’s sister? She’s a bit of a mystery but there was no mistaking it in the thick of things. Her ability to read the wind and waves, the flow of battle… she’s one of us.”
“If that part of her identity becomes important to her, I’m counting on the two of you,” Thorson replied after a moment of consideration, earning salutes from the both of them before he left the med bay and headed onto deck. There he came face to face with Pennsylvania, who was leading a proud-looking woman with deep blue hair and tall rabbit ears.
“This is the other, Commander,” Penny stated, a bite in her voice. “She removed her own shard.”
“She did what?” Thorson demanded, immediately turning a furrowed gaze to Soryuu and looking over every inch of her. “We will speak later. Your sister is alive and asleep inside. Penny, take her to Tennessee and then get yourself checked out. Damn fine work today, you and Arizona.”
“Thank you, Andrew. I’m glad you survived too,” Pennsylvania replied unabashedly. “Alright bunny girl, you heard him. Move it.”
Soryuu complied silently, her eyes not leaving Thorson’s until the rotation of her neck forced her to look forward again. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, the Commander began a trip around the Akashi’s deck, not wanting to occupy any of his girls with the pointless task of carrying him from ship to ship while so much was in flux. At the bow of the ship he saw her, the one woman who had destroyed his confidence and yet saved his fleet. She turned as his footfalls approached, brushing her jagged hairdo out of her eyes.
“Knight Commander? To what do I owe the honor?” Ark Royal asked.
“You mean other than tangling with four of the most powerful carriers in the Sakura navy and coming out on top?” he laid it out with a thin smile, one that she returned as he halted a few inches from her. The stiff breeze made the proximity necessary for calm conversation.
“I had help, Knight Commander,” Ark demurred humbly, leaning heavily on her rifle. Her shoulder armor was chipped and cracked in various places, and her long cloak and short skirt were in terrible condition. Were it not for her distress, it would have been sinfully alluring. “Those battleships and cruisers of yours really pack a punch.”
“Here,” Thorson insisted, throwing her arm over his shoulder and providing her with a fresh bottle of coolant he’d taken with him from the medical wing. “I’m sure you’re sick of it by now, but no one’s working the kitchens.”
“It’s more than enough. Thank you,” Ark accepted with grace, allowing her rigging to vanish as she drank deeply. Thorson spoke up again.
“I was wrong, you know.”
“About what, Knight Commander?”
“Without you, without airpower, my battleships would have fallen today. You worked for weeks to master a plane you were never meant to launch. You managed to equip them with anti-ship weaponry when it mattered most. And I’ll wager three month’s salary that you have a higher aircraft kill count than Enterprise and her sisters combined in this theater. That’s not a lot of money by the way,” he admitted openly. Ark laughed well before clutching at her side and looking him in the eye.
“I wasn’t expecting this when you said you were going to use me, Knight Commander.” Her voice was a bare whisper, but it might as well have been a bullhorn. Unsure what else to do he leaned in and brushed his nose against hers. Ark closed her eyes before stiffening as though she’d been shocked by a live wire. “Y-you certainly have more important things to do than sit here and prop me up, Knight Commander!”
“I should probably go oversee the prisoner transfer, yes. And you don’t need me interrupting your recovery and invading your privacy,” he rationalized awkwardly. She nodded with vigor.
“Yes, yes of course. I’ll recover and get back to it. The sooner we get back to work. Yes, that’s right.” Ark and Thorson swallowed heavily. It was much more uncomfortable than lust or even love as they waited and watched one another. Eventually she did speak again, earnestly. “We should get home as soon as we can. I worry about the little ones.”
“I know, and we will,” he affirmed with equal honesty, leaning in and kissing her for real. He did not know what it was like to kiss one’s wife. The way things were going he wasn’t sure he’d ever know. But something in the way Ark’s lips lingered tenderly and lovingly on his tricked his brain for that moment, tricked him into believing they were the lips of the mother of his children. “Thank you Ark, for everything.”
“G-Godspeed, Knight Commander,” she gasped quietly. “I’ll find you if I need anything.”
“Good… I’m sorry,” he apologized for not having anything else to say. Ark laughed. It was not triumphant or jovial, not ridiculing or humorous, just a simple and beautiful testament to the fact they were both alive and able to fulfill the promise they’d made to Mutsuki, Kisaragi, and Mikazuki.
“I’m not, Knight Commander. Now go, before we both abandon our duties.”
“As you say, Ark.”
-----
“Keep trying, Downes! Those planes are well ahead of us!” Javelin encouraged as the two of them along with Yuudachi and Yukikaze sprinted over the waves to the east, desperately searching for Enterprise’s task force. Downes was attempting to hail them on Union channels but up until then had met with no reply. Looming over the four of them was the unknown result of Hiryuu’s ‘suicide’ attack and the fate of the Union navy.
“I am trying!” the tomboyish destroyer insister, laying into her radio again and channeling as much power as she could into it without sacrificing speed. “This is the USS Downes for Enterprise, hell, for anyone who’s left! There is one final air strike coming from the west! The main Sakura battle group has been defeated and Commander Thorson requests a rendezvous at Midway. Please respond!” After another few minutes of silence she pounded the controls on her bridge. “For the love of my mismatched eyes, say something! The battle is over and we want to help!”
Yuudachi barked happily as the radio finally crackled to life in reply.
“I saw those eyes myself! It’s her! Downes, this is Enterprise! Yorktown is… please help!”
“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Downes assured her, feeling her engines thrum with anticipation. “Give us your coordinates! We’ll escort you all to Thorson. He’s rounding up the Sakura we took prisoner right now.”
Enterprise complied immediately, apparently over the wishes of her own commanding officer based on the disgruntled shouting. The four destroyers adjusted heading slightly south and put on a final burst of speed. Within minutes, a column of smoke could be seen on the distant horizon. Yukikaze sighed sadly. “I think we found those planes, nanoda.”
“Forget the planes!” Yuudachi shouted in between audible sniffs of the air around them. “Yuki, I smell slugs.”
“They wouldn’t, they couldn’t!”
“Just smell!” the snowy inu demanded. Yukikaze’s reaction was immediate.
“Oh crap crap crap! They’re here, nanoda!”
“Who’s here?” Javelin demanded.
“Union ships, this is Yuudachi! I don’t know what you’re doing but if you don’t have depth charges in the water you best start launching them before you all get blown to the gods, wan~!”
“Shit, submarines?” Downes deduced.
“But that’s- how did they get past my sonar?” Javelin demanded.
“Not they, she!” Yukikaze clarified as they hurried towards the Union formation where cruisers and destroyers were scrambling to respond to Yuudachi’s warning. “Hey, doesn’t that ship there belong to the sassy Union cat?”
“She? You mean one lone submarine? What could one ship hope to do?” Downes demanded. “And what’s that gotta do with Hammann?”
The answer to that question became clear as the Hammann and Yorktown, tethered together as the former tried desperately to save her friend who had endured more than should have been expected of any one carrier, were struck by torpedoes from an unknown source. “Why is it the one time I’m right it’s really bad, wan?” Yuudachi lamented in frustration.
“Forget that, doggy! We have to save the Union cat, nanoda!”
“What about Yorktown?!” Javelin demanded, watching as the ship finally succumbed to weeks’ worth of damage.
“She isn’t like us! The Union can save her! Us dogs and cats need to stick together!” Yuudachi insisted.
“Shigure is still a baka-inu!” Yukikaze insisted.
“Not the time, girls!” Downes shouted. “Now move!”
Contrary to Yuudachi’s optimistic claim, there was little the Union shipgirls could do to save Yorktown without rigging of their own. Only Hammann, who had directly boarded the ship, was at her side, crying and clinging to her as she felt her ship sinking. “Come on Yorktown! Please, we have to go!”
“Oh you sweet child,” Yorktown whispered heavily, feeling the weight of a lifetime at war slowly lowering her eyelids. She petted Hammann between the ears as Grim landed on her shoulder, a stern look in her eyes. “Go to her, my friend. I may be lost, but the battle is won. The day is ours and my sister must now bear the torch forward. I know how much I’m asking of you but with Hornet gone… you must be at her side.”
With a haunting cry, the bald eagle nipped affectionately at Yorktown’s finger once before taking flight, circling the sinking carrier as her calls served as something of a funeral dirge. With her constant companion taken care of, Yorktown embraced Hammann and kissed the top of her hair. “And now you must leave, my dear. There is still more for you to do in this war, I know it.”
“I can’t! I won’t!” Hammann insisted tearfully. “Sims… I can’t lose you and Sims!”
“We will never truly be lost, so long as you survive, little one. You and my sister and everyone else will keep us alive in your memory. Please, don’t let my fate be yours,” the elder carrier implored, feeling the steel beneath them shudder and snap. “Now go.”
“Noooo!” Hammann wailed, closing her eyes tightly as an explosion ripped through the Yorktown’s hull and her world went dark. By the time Yuudachi and Yukikaze fished her out of the water near the wreckage, only Grim’s constant circling was left to mark the location, her calls a testament to the Union carrier who had only been brought down by the combined efforts of no less than six Sakura ships. Yukikaze shook Hammann’s body vigorously, willing her to wake. The neko’s lips were blue and her clothing was soaked. Every worry she felt for her own sisters, lost somewhere on the other battlefield, bubbled to the surface as Javelin joined her and Downes met with Enterprise to give directions to the Union fleets.
Escorts on highest alert, the task forces finally turned for Midway Atoll at full steam. Downes allowed Enterprise to mourn her sisters privately, mumbling her own exhortations that Cassin would make it through another awful battle. Burdened by Enterprise’s top cruising speed, the only thing left for her to do was to set her ship to autopilot and board the Yukikaze, gathering around her three compatriots as they attempted to warm and revive Hammann. When the neko finally opened her pale blue eyes to find Yorktown gone, coughing and spluttering as brackish water left her lungs, she succumbed to tears that did not relent until they reached Midway.
-----
“Shikikan, Arizona needs your help, nyaa,” Akashi poked him awake and conveyed the news quietly, delivering several blankets and a pack of coolant to him. “She requested these, now go go.”
He nodded silently, standing from the Spartan chair that he’d nevertheless managed to fall asleep in within the medical wing. All around him ships were resting and sleeping as his fleet slowly made its way back to Midway under cover of night. There were plenty of prisoners to account for, but Arizona’s needs came first. Ships like Kongou weren’t going anywhere. Outside he found Arizona waiting for him, her rigging out. She gathered up the items and made to depart with barely a word, but Thorson’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“Angel,” he whispered. She seemed almost eager to get back to her ship, but spared a moment for him.
“I’m fine, Andrew,” she promised, her bright, teal eyes glinting in the sparse moonlight.
“Alright. Thank you for today. You saved us all, again,” he reminded her. She turned back his way and pressed up against his body, driving away any chill from the air and accepting a kiss tenderly.
“Yukikaze’s sisters are not doing well, Commander. I need to go now,” she insisted. He saw her to the edge of the deck before letting her depart.
“You’re sure you don’t need my help?” he asked.
“I have Laffey and Z23 with me, Andrew. Thank you for the supplies. I love you.” Thorson was not given a chance to return her words before she was gone, left instead to wonder at the fate of Urakaze and her sisters, not to mention what sort of tragedies awaited when the stack of wisdom cubes they’d collected was finally sorted into hulls and souls. He didn’t know how many of his own girls would have to live with the knowledge that they’d slain their own sisters or comrades. All he could do was wait for the dawn, when he hoped Yamashiro and Fusou would be willing to assist him in his awful task. He wasn’t sure if it was the stress of battle, the relief of survival, or both, but he actually managed a heartless chuckle into the night.
“I wonder what Vampire would have to say about all this?”
-----
Commander Thorson’s sleep was as restless at the battle itself. A charitable individual would attribute it to the carnage of Midway. One less inclined to the benefit of the doubt would have pointed out that it was the first night in many he’d not spent with a loving companion to warm his bed. In a stunning display of mercy that convinced him every damn ship in his fleet was worthy of combat honors, his girls had spent the night making longer and longer trips back to the scene of the battle from Thorson’s fleet to retrieve human survivors from the Sakura wreckage. Stashed aboard the charred but floating Hiei, they were the last thing on his mind when he re-entered the med bay. Many of the girls, though he knew ship-women would be a better name, were looking at him. Many others still rested. He walked quietly over to Fusou and Yamashiro’s bedside where a table sat between them, laden with wisdom cubes collected after Midway. “How are you two doing?”
“We are well, tono-sama,” Fusou assured him. “Akashi, the bulins, and even the manjuus have been good to us.”
As if on cue, a small flock of the birds arrived in the open doorway, chirping quietly as they carried more secret coolant to all the bedsides in need. Pennsylvania accepted one and sat up in bed, rolling her shoulder. The crack was audible but she smiled widely. “Really going to be happy to get back to Shiratsuyu’s cooking.”
“You’re not the only one,” Thorson assured her. Perhaps on account of fear or weakness he forestalled his grim task that morning as Midway and the Union task forces became visible on the southern horizon with the light of dawn. “Fusou, can I ask you a question?”
“You need not be so formal, tono-sama,” the elder sister replied as Yamashiro claimed her share of morning attention and snuggled up to his right side. She earned herself a petting between the ears for her troubles.
“Is there a term in your language for what you are, for a shipgirl? It’s such a… misnomer in English,” he explained. “Especially after what we all just went through.”
“Kansen,” Fusou replied simply. “We are the kansen.”
He smiled faintly. “I like that a lot more. Now, will you help me with this?”
“We both will, tono-sama. This is our duty,” Yamashiro offered bravely as he turned his chair around so his back faced the rest of his fleet. Union and Sakura alike looked on as the score was finally settled. Perhaps on account of their connection to the gods or their former comrades, it took but a moment for the two neko maidens to sort the pile into cubes that Thorson could use as raw material, ten in all, and cubes that had belonged to living kansen not days before. Yamashiro’s ears wilted as she picked up the first one. “This was Chikuma. She had blue eyes and was very kind.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, taking the cube from her and holding it in his hands. If any soul remained within, he could not reach or even sense it. “Does she have sisters among our fleet?”
“Here is her sister,” Fusou said calmly, though her eyes held great sorrow as another cube was offered to him. They seemed to glow just a bit brighter when held together in his hands. “Tone was the elder. She reminded me of Soryuu in many ways, serious and committed to her training.”
“God damnit,” Thorson muttered, setting the cubes aside so that they could be together while they carried on. The process didn’t get easier from there. “Who are those?”
“Yukikaze and Shiranui’s sisters,” Yamashiro replied. “Nowaki and the eldest, Kagerou.”
“Shit,” the commander lamented. “At least Arizona managed to salvage the other four. We’ll make sure they receive proper rights and that the living can participate.”
“Thank you, tono-sama,” Fusou said as more and more of the kansen stirred from various states of rest, listening with somber curiosity. The shrine maiden looked past him to another bed in the infirmary. It held the young woman he’d seen through his binoculars the day before. He’d given the order to fire at the whites of her eyes. “Mogami, the eldest of her sisters. I’m sorry, Suzuya.”
The young, horned woman said nothing, hanging her head and clutching the bedsheets with bandaged fingers. Her sword had been taken from her the moment she’d been rescued by the Union forces. There was naught she could do but mourn as her sister’s cube was placed gently at her side. She didn’t dare address the enemy commander, even as he offered his condolences. “Please tell me this is the last one,” he implored when he returned to Yamashiro. She nodded.
“It’s a battleship, Haruna,” the neko told him with drooping tail and ears. A choked sob came from down the row of beds near where Soryuu and Hiryuu were resting under guard. Thorson stood, and the kansen rose to meet him, the same one who had lamented Hiei’s marred body the night before. Kongou was breathing heavily, trying to control herself as far too many eyes watched her. After an eternity he stood before her and offered Haruna’s cubes. Blinking back tears she took them from him.
“When we return to my base you’ll be given an opportunity to lay her to rest in your own tradition, even if you choose to remain a prisoner,” he promised. Kongou could not bring herself to reply, and was spared an extended moment of tension, fear, and sorrow as a commotion made itself known at the doorway to the medbay.
“Knight Commander, we’re back! Come quickly, it’s… Kongou?!” Javelin gasped.
“J-Javelin?” the battleship whispered, something of a British accent slipping through in response to Javelin’s own. Thorson glanced between the two of them curiously.
“You know her, Javelin?”
“I was constructed in Royal Navy shipyards,” Kongou answered directly, though she averted her eyes when he tried to hold contact.
“Oh for the love of- The two of you can have tea later!” Downes yelped. “Now move! Cassin, please tell me you’ve still got all your limbs this time!”
Thorson cursed himself for having sent Downes away without thinking of her sister, but the moment the spunky, ashen-haired destroyer confirmed her sister was on the mend she turned his way. “Commander, the leaders of Task Forces 16 and 17 are waiting for you on shore.”
Every Kansen who could watched with bated breath as Thorson squared his shoulders. He hoped Colorado and her sisters were not already antagonizing anyone. “What’s the score, Downes?”
The destroyer licked her lips nervously and met Tennessee’s eyes. The frowning battleship didn’t move a muscle but she gave Downes the resolve she needed to be the reaper’s messenger. “We weren’t fast enough, Andrew.”
Thorson pulled his cap low over his brow as Downes walked forward and clasped his hand gently. He squeezed tight, felt how warm she still was. “How bad?”
“Hornet and Yorktown are gone.”
-----
Previous First
submitted by SabatonBabylon to AzureLane [link] [comments]


2020.09.15 19:14 jollyspiffing Scout League - GW1 Report

Scout League Report - GW1 Join the scout league: wlk0qm
This week in the fantasypl scout league the Team Of The Week was a dead heat between 3 top teams: Scouting For Goals (me!), Running Beards and Livchesteram wuth 87pts a piece, with the table mainly split between Salah(c) and everyone else! The full league table is below.
NB I'm having some trouble with Auto-subs which I will fix for next week so those with Vinagre will probably lose points! Also Reddit formatting on tables is a pain. I hope to get that sorted next week too!
The top 10 league places are as follows:
id team_name player_name total_score GW_score
3865648 Scouting for Goals Scout Master 87 87
5095663 Runningbeards FC Julian Drabner 87 87
387799 Livchesterham Matt Spencer 87 87
148768 Salah'd Tossers Joe Lombardi 82 82
1150980 Caw Caw Bitches John Honchkrow 81 81
4025915 Girls Gone Wildcard u/ ramnarayan93 81 81
336301 CroMagnons Arthur Mwanje 79 79
3937028 Powpow FC Pif Mock 76 76
5671316 dream team James Saka 74 74
4799709 2ManyPlebs Christian Bentley 72 72
2887040 ESCN Varun Prakash 72 72
4383023 Road_Roller Mnky B 71 71
4574378 Remontada FC Hassern mohamed 71 71
4303057 WILDCARD TEAM Reddit User 71 71
117036 VirgilSalah Virgil Salah 71 71
1477540 Napukan_Na_Bqlo Svetlozar Kamishev 70 70
2426148 It’s all down hill James Smith 70 70
2623226 No Limit. All In. Taher Weekly Wildcard 69 69
4213322 Can't Catch Me Steve Jim 68 68
18493 Guyin Munich Guy Bronze 68 68
500493 Let's wreak havertz Aaron Mak 65 65
223801 Draston Killa Dunk McConnell 65 65
1648528 PeneloPenguins Damien Scott 64 64
3113678 Unsteady Knee FC Jesse Gray 62 62
508263 Pencetus ummah Lord Ayling 60 60
107815 Cheers Geoff Chan Varma 57 57
683180 Mooys Boys Cooper Ruthven 54 54
487727 iheartmanchester Jason Emeka 53 53
241823 I 8 2 much yesterday Dai Duong Le 50 50
3426566 Turn Him Dave Dᩲe Fitzgerald 50 50
1373089 A.Wenger's Endgame Euan Buxton 50 50
5471164 Ryan4pie ryan4pie .tennant 46 46
3964148 Stronk Potato F.C. Hisham Nouman 45 45
2864070 Baldrick Jonathan Liu 44 44
877469 Watering Iceman KK Guan 42 42
3785843 Back Again C B 41 41
4111638 MaraDonnylovesKoke Amrit Vanchinathan 38 38
592015 Liverspots FC David Cooper 38 38
5023347 The Cool Boys Dick Grayson 34 34
223627 Slippen Jimmies Dave T 34 34
4788179 Kloppsknockingshops Ali Price 31 31
NB - the scout league scoring script is currently in Beta, if you spot a mistake then please let me know in the comments
submitted by jollyspiffing to FantasyPL [link] [comments]


2020.09.15 05:36 Falsebooles123 [Review] LAKE CLARITY WELCOME TO CAMP INDIE HORROR.

Seth: ​We decided we’d all take a week long trip up to Lake Clarity to celebrate our last summer together. Mike, Ally, Erin, and Brandon have been my best friends since freshman year, and in a few short months we were all heading our separate ways for college. I was planning on staying in Denver, but everyone else was flying far away. I host a podcast and thought it would be fun to bring some spooky content to my project, and maybe capture some memories in the process. The camp was old, and truthfully I didn’t think we’d find anything at all, aside from maybe some old boy scout stickers, but I was hopeful. Lake Clarity is one of those places that only exists in horror stories. It’s like Crystal Lake. We thought it was just an old summer camp that went out of business, and never got torn down. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. Now please take me back to camp! You have no idea what's going on up there! The things we've seen. Ranger Joan:​ Seth, you need to tell us what happened to your friends!"
- EP 1 "Campgrounds".
📷Lake Clarity is a found footage horror audio drama created by Midnight Disease and was part of the Fatecrafters Network before its disbandment. It was written and directed by Pacific Obediah and Larissa Fleming. The music was provided by Itsteeth. It stars the acting talents of Bear Omenson (Seth), Ben Ernst(Erin) James Brunt (Brandon), Maddy Moore (Ally), Jacob Thorne (Mike), and Kristen von Eton (Ranger Joan).*
When I first discovered Lake Clarity I was intrigued by what it had to offer. The playful banter of the characters the casualness of the plot and the hint that shit would hit the fan eventually. I also liked that even through it was set at a summer camp that It wasn't a cut and dried slasher flick, (that being said I loved Slasher's Season 2 which was a homage to the full summer death camp thing if your looking for a rec.). Lake Clarity is a simple fun little horror podcast and the cast and dialogue doesn't take itself too seriously. If you are looking for a dark, gritty horror podcast like Small Town Horror or Limetown you are going to be disappointing but if you like teenage dramas with a good splash of horror then your in luck.
You've heard the story before 5 friends go up to an old summer camp before they all leave for college. One by one we are introduced to the main characters. Seth, a deadpan podcaster who's staying at home while the rest of his friends go off to college, Erin, the grumpy "mom" of the group, Brandon, the clown, Ally. the girl-next-door type and the "meme",(whatever that means), and Mike, who's just a straight-up chill bro. The friends do some exploring and for the sake of spoilers shit goes down. That being said here is a list of things that appear: Hotdogs, Padded Rooms, Flare Guns, Mutilated Deer, Blueberry Granola Bars, Shadow People, Blood, Government Documents, and a crowbar named Mr. Sanchez. One of the selling points of the show is its seamless blend between comedy and horror. The characters bicker, pull pranks, and act like any other group of teenagers but when the gloves comes off and things go down the horror doesn't hold back. Some of my favorite moments was Episode 5 "No Clarity, Only Shadows" which gave off strong STH/TBT** vibes and the cabin scene from episode 3 "Deeper Down the Rabbit Hole". I won't get into why these moments where so intense for spoiler reasons but I will say that Lake Clarity uses its horror effectively helping it stand out from the general unease or gloomy atmosphere of other "horror" Podcasts.
To discuss the weaknesses of the podcast I felt it was important to give context to the origin of the podcast. From the creator's own words:
"Lake Clarity first began when I sat down with ten friends and told them I wanted to do an Audio Drama podcast. We had a studio on our campus, I had a computer, and an (admittedly cheesy) script I wrote last summer."
The cast are not professional voice actors. This is not a criticism this is simply a fact one should keep in mind when listening to the podcast. For the most part I enjoyed the voice work but there were definitely moments where the acting fell flat and undermined the intensity of the scenes. A few characters deadpan tone made then perfectly suited for narration but when it came to their more emotional outbursts it was hard for the emotions to be properly conveyed. If you're looking for a slick shiny audio drama with vocal talents in the realm of David Cummings or Jon Grilz this is not the type of podcast. However if you don't mind a podcast thats a little rough around the edges than it's worth the chance.
On the other side of the aural landscape is sound design which for Obadiah's debut Audio Drama is surprisingly good. When Lake Clarity first came out it was touted for its fantastic sound design and while I can't say that it is as complex and immersive as other recent soundscape juggernauts, (Namely Gimlet's "Sandra" and Paragon Collective's "The Darkest Night" ), it holds water when it comes to audio verisimilitude. Lake Clarity utilizes a mild "Found Footage" aspect in its storytelling with the majority of the action told through audio recordings. Lo-Fi effects such as popping and static are intermixed giving a weight to the recorder, (in the same way that found footage movies see the camera as an object). In terms of foley work that audio is fantastic while not reaching the virtuoso level of recent high polished audio dramas it's still head and shoulders above your average audio drama in terms of immersion and production.
Lake Clarity is a satisfying little gem if your looking for a fun podcast that doesn't take itself too seriously. A fun albiet amataur cast, snappy dialogue, and some great horror scenes bring together a campy indie horror story that you'd be amiss to miss.
submitted by Falsebooles123 to podcasts [link] [comments]


2020.09.13 23:56 TAHaywood Richard "Quickdraw" McCallister: A Eulogy - Chapter 14

When the Tamani blew a hole in his ship, his friend, and his career, Richard McCallister called it quits. But when he gets word of another alien incursion, with his friend's family in the line of fire, he charges back into danger on the outskirts of settled space to yank them out of the maw.
That was his plan, anyway. But things don't usually go according to plan.
Cover Art
First Part
----------
Elbows braced on my knees, I stared at the ship.
It’d been pretty much what we expected -- a small, agile ship with the blocky, angular edges customary for Solaran make. Heaven help us, we hadn’t quite mastered the art of aesthetic shipbuilding like some of the other races had.
Even still, this ship had been better once. It’d been whole. Now, it was little more than a twisted, shattered husky lying sprawled across the cargo bay floor.
My console beeped. Without looking down, I keyed the button, triggering the next batch of transfers.
Strip the ship’s data files, I’d been told. Pull them off as best you can, and send Captain Taylor anything of import. Anything that’d spell out what happened here.
I had. I’d been told not to look at the files as well, but how the hell was I supposed to figure out which databanks held the information we needed without looking at the damn things? I hadn’t looked at them for very long, was the compromise I’d reached with myself.
I hadn’t needed to.
The images contained within still filled my mind, appearing in my vision every time I blinked. The comm broadcasts from the planet. The transmissions from the surface. The pleas for help. The screams.
And the final messages beamed into the black by those who never expected their words to be heard.
That courier heard it all as he’d blasted out of atmo. He’d recorded it. And thus, I’d heard.
We’d been so hopeful for survivors. I’d been so hopeful.
When we’d cracked open his ship, we’d found him collapsed at the controls. Suffocated, they’d said. Enviro failure.
What he couldn’t say, his records had. I saw him on the planet, dropping off...whatever it was that Dusters wanted to trade with each other. I saw him accepting a frankly-shocking sum of money -- a sum I already knew would be whisked away into TerraCorp’s coffers. And I saw the first ships appear, flecks of light against the black.
He’d tried to get away, to get offplanet. But the Tamani had been faster, and his ship...he’d made it out into the black, but not intact.
The console beeped. I hit the button. Another log began the journey into our databanks.
Footsteps rang across the deck. I flinched -- and then leapt up at the sight of two figures approaching. Clay -- following behind Captain Taylor.
The captain only nodded at me, though, eyeing the ship.
“Like I was sayin’,” Clay said, and for once, his tone actually seemed respectful. “We’re processin’ as best we can, but with this amount of damage...it’ll take a lot of reconstruction and-”
“I understand,” the captain said heavily. “Lock it down.”
Clay froze. Hell, I froze too. “Pardon?” he said, before I could squeak out a word.
Captain Taylor’s expression tightened, deepening the lines that etched into his face. He wasn’t a particularly old man, but in that moment, he looked like he could have been my grandfather. Dark circles ringed his eyes, giving his already-shipbleached skin a grey cast. “Lock it down,” he said again. “Pull the entire memory system and put it under a seal.” His eyes flicked to me. “You can do it, yes?”
I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly bone-dry. “Yes, sir. Of course. But...why do you-”
“The board has requested to handle this personally,” the captain said, turning back to the sad, ravaged hull of the courier’s ship. “We’re to ferry it back to Terra Prime for their investigation. It’ll be handled by them, not us.” Again, his eyes darted to meet mine. “And any information contained within is for their eyes only. Do you understand?”
My skin prickled, burning away under that gaze. “Yes, sir. Of course. Right away.”
“Good.” His lips flickered in what might have been a tiny, half-hidden smile -- but he turned away without another word, vanishing into the Rheasilvia in the blink of an eye.
I stared after him. My mind burned with questions, one I knew damn well I couldn’t ask. Not if I wanted to keep my position in the corp.
The console beeped. I reached over -- and then froze. Slowly, carefully, I hit the kill command. The transfer windows collapsed in on themselves, finally disappearing entirely.
The courier’s words didn’t disappear. I could still hear him crying, gasping for air. It was right there, like I’d stood beside him as he slipped away.
A hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing gently. I looked up. Clay was looking at the ruined ship, not me, but I knew that he knew, without me having to say a word.
“You heard the captain,” he whispered. “Lock it down. And then…” He shook his head. “Let’s get a diagnostic on the aether injectors. Not likin’ their prospects if we’re doin’ a hard burn all the way back to Sol.”
I nodded. His fingers pressed into my shoulder again. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try and offer any comfort. There was nothing to say.
Turning back to the console, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Clay’s fingers slipped from my jacket. Windows flashed across my screen as I reached into the connections we’d spent a day and a half forming and one by one started to sever them.
His steps were slow and soft as he trudged away.
-----
Steam wafted off the surface of the stew, dissipating into the dim light of the pub.
McCallister scowled, tightening his grip on his probe. When he jabbed it into the arm’s guts, though, the whole limb wobbled. “Damned stupid piece of-”
“Calm down,” Lily said. She reached out, grasping the arm and steadying it. “You’re scarin’ the kids.”
“The kids are fine,” he muttered. With her hand on the prosthetic, he nudged the cabling inside to reveal the once-ravaged aether port. He’d already had to replace the whole stupid outer casing to mend the crack he’d torn.
Still...they’d no sooner hitched a ride on a rescuing hauler back to Solovei than Wyatt had approached with a tiny vial of stabilized aether. With that addition, the innards were once again glowing a healthy red. He was almost done.
“You should eat somethin’,” he heard Lily say.
“I will,” he mumbled. “In a minute.”
“Only, it’s goin’ to get cold if you-”
“In a minute.”
She sighed, and he could hear the exhaustion in the noise. Oh, he knew how that felt. He felt like he’d been put through a thrasher, with bruises along his chest and legs that were only beginning to blossom. Every movement hurt.
McCallister snorted. “Guess I’m getting too old for this.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
“Look, just take a load off for half a damn minute and-”
“We don’t have time for that,” he snapped, his frustrations rekindling. “Damn it, Lily, at any moment those alien bastards could-”
“Quiet down.” This time, her voice had an iron edge to it, the sort that brooked no disagreement. “There’s folks around. Be a grumpy ol’ stodge if you want, but don’t go scarin’ folks.”
McCallister lifted his head a fraction of an inch, letting his gaze wander the room. The hauler had dragged them to a dingy pub in Solovei’s center -- the best the colony had to offer, Lily had assured them. They’d claimed a booth in the far corner for McCallister to start his repairs.
He’d hoped for somewhere a little out of the public eye, but now, he could see just how badly that plan had failed. Colonists filled his vision. They lurked behind tables, peered out from around corners and doors. All of them were watching him and Lily.
“Great,” he mumbled.
Lily laughed quietly. “Ah, well. They’re figurin’ it out now, you see. Before, it was just a scary story you told ‘em. A warnin’.”
“And now it’s real.”
“Just so. Maybe don’t go spookin’ em worse than they already are, eh?”
“They should be spooked,” McCallister muttered, but his voice dipped low. “They should-”
“The signal you gave us went quiet again,” Lily said. A flicker of movement drew his eyes back to her, just in time to see her prop her elbows against the table. Bruises dotted her tanned skin, spreading across her wiry arms and down from her forehead. He’d look no better, he knew. Her gaze was dead serious, though, and entirely composed. “Seems you were right. These were just scouts. So-”
“So we should-”
“Let a girl finish, would you?” she said with a pointed roll of her green eyes. “We’ll be hurryin’. But if we’ve got a spell of quiet, you should take it.”
“I’m fine.”
“Right. Of course.” She seemed to recognize that she wouldn’t get anything else out of him, though. Leaning back in her seat, she grabbed for her cup, and took a sip of something that almost-certainly wasn’t water. Her eyes were fixed to his arm, altogether too sharp. “Don’t that hurt?”
“...What?”
“Poppin’ your arm on and off just like your hat. Seems somethin’ like that’d want to stay attached.”
McCallister clenched his teeth, shaking his head. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Oh. Only, I’d think-”
“Again. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Oh.” Lily chuckled. “Weird.”
He heard the gentle clink of silverware as she took another spoonful of stew. His own eyes were fixed to the coupling. He’d mended the casing, and refilled the tubule with stabilized aether. The containment system didn’t seem to have been damaged in the fray, so all he should have to do was connect the damn thing. Easier said than done when the whole thing was buried in a tiny shell filled with a mess of cables.
So engrossed was he that he missed the low footsteps approaching their table. He did hear Lily set her cup down with a thunk, though.
“Evenin’,” she said, with an odd, formal air to her voice he hadn’t heard before. McCallister looked up.
A man stood alongside the table, shifting from foot to foot. He was built like a damn brick wall, with a shock of black hair trimmed short and a sea of stubble across his blocky face. McCallister could almost remember him, just a vague image of his face among the men surrounding Julian while the alarms screamed.
“Sorry to disturb your night, folks,” the man said, with a broad smile. McCallister didn’t trust a smile like that on a man like...well, like that. It carried the same self-assurance that screamed that he was totally and completely aware he could break both of them apart with his pinky finger. “Figured you two were in charge of this operation.”
“And?” Lily said, arching an eyebrow. She glanced back to McCallister in the next moment. “Ah, see. This here’s Jason. Jason Briggs. He-”
“Mining,” McCallister said, the man’s name resurfacing at the reminder. “You’re the poor bastard who just poured all his money into that new mine on Solovei II. Right?” Maybe he was being too direct. Maybe he should be more polite, since he was pretty sure he could remember Lily saying this asshole was a big deal. But, damn it, he ached, and he’d been banged around all night long, and he just wanted to get back to his work. This was as good as ‘Jason’ could ask for.
Jason winced, but his grin didn’t quite fade. “And you’ll be that exiled TerraCorp man turned courier.”
McCallister could quite clearly hear the thump of Lily kicking Jason in the ankle. “This is Rick McCallister,” she said, her voice cheery. “Our own Mister Quickdraw, I’m thinkin’, after today. He’s here to help.”
“...Right,” Jason said, his smile unfaltering. “I’m sure. Look, Mr. McCallister, I-”
“Just McCallister is fine.”
“...McCallister, then. I know you’re trying to help.” The man’s grin positively gleamed. “I think I can be of service. You’ll find my company is well-equipped with a variety of mechanics and tools, all ready-prepared to-”
“Stop blowing smoke up my ass and spit it out,” McCallister growled, shooting him a sidelong look.
Jason did hesitate, then, his brow furrowing. “Ah...I’m afraid I don’t-”
“We’ve been out here working for a good long while now,” McCallister said, still glaring at him. “You could’ve popped over and helped out anytime you liked. You didn’t. But now you have. Which tells me-”
Lily’s foot jabbed gently into his shin. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes flashed meaningfully.
“You want something,” McCallister finished, bringing his tone down a few notches. “So what is it?” He eyed the muscle-studded mass of the man, lips pursed.
To his credit, Jason didn’t even flush. “It’s not like that,” he said, but his voice was as oily as ever. It wasn’t right for a man built like him to try and play sneaky, McCallister thought sourly. He should be crass and hamhanded. But a crass, hamhanded man wouldn’t have risen to the head of a colony’s industrial sector, either.
“Oh?” McCallister said. “Then what’s-”
“I think we can help each other,” Jason said, folding his arms. He was missing three fingers on one hand, McCallister realized, each replaced by a silvery limb not unlike his own -- albeit of substantially more crude make. “That ship’s been rusting away out in the sun for almost two generations. Sure, we might get it off the ground, but things will break.” His grin turned crooked. “I think you’ll find my equipment well-suited to helping with the repairs -- or helping with new fabrication, should we wind up stranded somewhere.”
And he’d get to bring along his oh-so-expensive fabrication rigs, McCallister thought sourly. His expensive, large fabrication rigs.
“Not my problem,” McCallister said, bending back over his arm.
He heard Jason shuffle forward. “Well, I thought you were running this show. How’s about-”
“That’s Administrator Julian’s problem,” McCallister said, fighting the urge to bat the man away like the nuisance he was. “If you’ve got people who can help us get flying, send them over. Sooner rather than later.”
“W-Well, if I’m expending my own resources, I’d at least like to know that I’ll-”
With a final click, the tubule snapped into place -- and the prosthetic came alive under his hand. McCallister smiled grimly, turning back to the mountain of a man. “You can help us or not. Your choice. But if we can’t get flying?” He held Jason’s stare, made sure the man was watching him carefully. “We’ll all get blasted to nothing. Together. It won’t matter who’s stuffed the damn thing more full of cows or machinery or whatever.”
The man’s lips tightened, with crows’ feet appearing at the corners of his eyes. McCallister eyed him a moment longer. “Consider carefully.”
With a slap of his flesh-and-blood hand, McCallister closed the panels of his arm, then slotted it into place. His nerves quivered nauseatingly. Smothering a sigh at the renewed aching of his bones, he stood, collecting his coat and settling his hat back on his head.
“Hey,” Lily said. “You ain’t even ate yet. Sit down and-”
“I’ll be fine,” McCallister said. “Got work to do. Someone’s got to keep us breathing.”
Lily’s protests followed behind him as he strode for the door, but she didn’t try to stomp off after him or anything. He smiled grimly. Already, his mind raced, filled with tasks yet to complete. He needed to check with Wyatt about the enviro assembly. He needed to go over the main engine one last time. And he needed to do a pressure check on the airlock hatches, unless they wanted the whole ship to come apart once they left atmo.
Too much shit by half, and not enough time -- not when the Tamani were already breathing down their necks.
The pub’s door clattered shut behind him as he stepped out into the building chill of the night. Just like inside, colonists seemed to teem in every open space. They’d be moving back to the city proper, he realized. The loners, the ones who lived on the outskirts. No one could miss the shitshow of them taking out the drones, and they’d realize how much trouble they were in.
More people counting on them to save everyone.
He grimaced, turning back toward the distant hulk of the colony ship. At least there they wouldn’t be watching him. Trudging forward, he-
“Mister?”
McCallister stopped, glancing off to the side -- and for the first time, he heard the low rumble of an idling engine. Quinn sat atop a 4-wheeled runner, his dark eyes just wells of blackness in the night. “Oh,” McCallister mumbled. “Quinn. Were you- I don’t know if I can teach you right now. I need to-”
“Mom said to give you a ride back,” Quinn said, and flashed McCallister a sheepish grin. “Said you’d probably be a...a-”
McCallister rolled his eyes, watching the youth suddenly shrink back and avoid his eyes. “Let me guess,” he said, chuckling. “A stubborn ass?”
“Something like that,” Quinn mumbled. “You’re going back, aren’t you? To the ship?”
“Yep.”
Quinn’s face lit up again. “Sweet. Then-”
“Do you have a license to drive that thing?” It wasn’t a big vehicle, but...Quinn couldn’t have been more than twelve. He trusted Kara, really, but there were limits.
Right on cue, Quinn’s face turned mulish. “Do you want a ride?”
“Fine,” McCallister said, holding his unoccupied hand up. “Fine, fine.”
At Quinn’s furious gesturing, McCallister clambered up onto the back of the runner, seating himself on a somewhat-flat surface. No sooner had he plunked his ass down than Quinn opened the throttle of the tiny vehicle. With a lurch, they took off.
McCallister just held on, swaying gently with every motion, as the homes of Solovei drifted past. From the corner of his eye, he could see another figure hurrying down an alley toward where they’d been moments before -- and he recognized one of the others who’d been harranguing Julian. Larry, no doubt, here to try and negotiate space in the cargo hold for his herds.
He’d have to find a way to appease them. All of them. Hell, he could tell Julian to do it, but he already knew that wouldn’t get him too far. The man seemed competent enough as an administrator, but, well, he’d met colony administrators before. And, like it or not, they’d need the resources these families had to offer. They needed the cattle and the machinery and the sheer manpower.
Somehow, he’d have to figure all of that out.
For the moment, though, McCallister just sat back, tugging his hat a little lower, and let Clay’s son carry them both out of the city and into the dark.
--------------
“Hey.”
McCallister scrabbled with the bolt clutched between his fingers, shoulder-deep in the generator. Oil squished under his grasp, coating everything in a greasy, slimy film that made it slippery as all hell.
“Rick? Hello?”
Just a little more. He scrunched up his face, stretching hard, and-
Someone grabbed his shoulder. He flinched, shying away.
A metallic clink echoed through the chamber as the bolt fell from his grasp, tumbling deeper through the maze of pipes and connectors.
He twisted, nostrils flaring. “What the hell do you think you’re-”
Kara flinched back, her hand still outstretched. Behind her, half-hidden at the exit, he saw Ada jump behind a bulkhead.
“O-Oh,” McCallister mumbled, pulling himself free of the generator. He rubbed at his face, remembering moments later that he was covered in grease and slop.
“Rick…” he heard Kara sigh. A moment later, she grabbed his shoulder again, turning toward him.
He glared at her as she mopped at his face, a handkerchief in hand. “Come on, Kara, I’m not-”
“Can’t leave you alone for five damn minutes without making a mess.”
He could feel his cheeks reddening. He was a grown-ass man, not one of her crotchgoblins. Before he could protest, though, she pulled away, eyeing him sidelong. “Go.”
“What?” he mumbled, his own voice sounding like it was filtering through a layer of cotton. “Kara, I-”
“You got yourself banged half to death, flying halfway around the damn planet. You haven’t slept since...hell, I don’t know when you slept last. And Lily told me you haven’t eaten, either.”
“I’ll sleep when-”
“I had Adaline throw together a cot in the colonist quarters.” Kara crossed her arms over her chest, her black eyes fierce. “Use it.”
“There’s still work to be done,” he said. “I can’t. I still need to-”
“Rick. Now.” A smile quirked at the corners of her lips. “Let the others work, too.”
McCallister paused -- and then, once he’d pulled out of his frenetic labors long enough to pay a lick of attention, he felt it. The rumble of a reactor vibrating through the deckplates. The gentle gusts of fresh air on his face through the vents.
He glanced to Kara, but her smug smile only grew. “Go on, then,” she said. “If I see you up before you’ve had a solid six hours, I’ll-”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, waving her off. “Got it.” Hell, he’d seen her rip into Clay a time or two before. That wasn’t a fight he was going to win, and both of them knew it.
With no option left, he turned, toddling off toward the living quarters. The world seemed oddly quiet, quieter than it had any right to be. The halls seemed to close in around him, the lights overhead blinding but somehow leaving his vision dim.
“I mean it!” he heard her holler behind him.
He flipped a middle finger over his shoulder, and heard her laughter echo through the hall.
All the way to the end. Take a right at the T-intersection, and-
A dim glow lit one of the rooms -- and when he slowed, peering through, he saw a utilitarian green blanket covering the bed inside. Emergency issue, like the rest of what they were stocking the ship with, but...well, it’d be warm.
He meant to sit down on the edge of the bed, no more, but somehow, he felt the gentle touch of cotton against his cheek. The pillow swathed his head, swallowing him whole.
Something jumped up alongside him, a gentle mass that rumbled and purred from within. It settled against his midsection, kneading his gut.
He was gone.
submitted by TAHaywood to HFY [link] [comments]


2020.09.13 04:03 Affordable_Paradise DDLC: resurgence - chapter 5 (pt 1)

Another super long chapter that reddit somehow won’t let me fit into one post. Nevertheless, here we go!
Chapter 5: undercover
Our van is on the road, radio up and ready. “Test. 1-2-3-4” the radio blares out to us. “Copy KT, you’re coming in loud and clear” I reply through the radio. “We may or may not have a change of plans. Sayori is not yet in her residence yet and there may be some vital data to gather while she is still in club hours. The literature club that she is invested in is having a meeting tonight. You’re just lucky that you left with enough time to get there. We thought that this would happen, so there are some school uniforms located in the back of the van. Put them on and act in character. Copy?” Kitsana tells us. “Copy. Initiating operation.” I reply “oh my goodness... I-I’m so sorry. I forgot about the club meeting tonight and it’s all my fault that our plan got messed up. Oh no, what will we do now?” Yuri says “The plan hasn’t been messed up, Yuri. We are actually lucky that we had a slight change. Crucial info could have been left out without this change. As a matter of fact, here comes the school right now.” I reply. The building is now visible from where we are and Yuri drives into the parking lot. “Mikasutsi, scout the area and point out any details that might get in our way when we are executing this mission” I say. “Yeah, on it” mikasutsi replies as she steps out of the back of the van. A couple of minutes later and the radio starts up again. “No possible obstacles that will interfere with the mission. You are clear to go.” Mikasutsi says. “Copy. Commencing operation” I say back. Yuri and I put on the school vests and head into the building. “It’s on the third floor. To the left.” Yuri says. As soon as we reach the third floor, we can already hear chatter of what can sound like two girls and one boy through the walls. Me and Yuri keep walking down the hall and take a turn to the left. As soon as I know it, I am in a clubroom occupied by a pink haired girl, an average looking schoolboy, and most importantly, our main suspect... sayori.
submitted by Affordable_Paradise to DDLC [link] [comments]


2020.09.12 17:57 Rourensu Father-son, one “happens to be gay”

Hi.
I’ve been reading some father-son books, but they’ve been pretty straight and heteronormative. In the current book, the father is concerned about his teen son “getting into trouble” with girls (which of course he does), then the son-now-father has the same concerns about his own teen son (who of course follows in his father’s footsteps). I would like to try a book that wasn’t so heteronormative. Maybe like if a coworker notices the father’s son has a lot of girls around him and makes a comment like “you might be a grandfather soon” or “probably time to send him to an all-boys school,” but the father laughs and tells the coworker his son is gay. Or maybe in response to the all-boys school suggestion, “he likes boys so I bet he would love that.”
The “father-son” relationship doesn’t have to be biological. The father-son book I’ve been writing is basically like if Ned Stark were openly gay and Jon Snow knows he’s adopted. Extra points if fostering/adopting is involved!
This might sound contradictory, but I would like if the father or son just “happens to be gay.” Kinda like if John Wick had a husband. It doesn’t change anything in the actual story and it’s mainly about him kicking ass. The Troop by Nick Cutter at most has some of the boys talking about girls and crushes, but like if one of the boys said he likes boys. Actually, I think their scout leader was assumed gay. Ideally, there would be no coming out scene. Everyone already knows John Wick had a wife husband, not-Jon Snow already knows his dad is gay, the office worker already knows his son would like an all-boys school, etc. Yes, the dad outs his son to a coworker (and the reader?) but it’s not a “coming out” scene.
My favorite genres are (not high or urban) fantasy, horror, historical fiction, and maybe sci-fi (though not as much recently). I would prefer sex/romantic relationships (for any character) to not be a (major) part of it. YA quite often has a strong focus on relationships, so YA is practically out of the question. Ultimately I would like the father-son stuff to be like the main focus.
Thank you!
submitted by Rourensu to booksuggestions [link] [comments]


2020.09.12 07:53 kindamehbutok My heart was broken 3 times, but it worked out for the good.

Before this story starts I want to acknowledge a few things
1: My grammar isnt the best so please try to read past it. I am so sorry for it but Im not the best at grammar.
2: I explain this story as if Im talking to you in person. So If something seems off with what Im saying thats why. So I may use words like: Kinda, Anyway, So basically, etc.. Im sorry again for my poor grammar but Im used to texting not writing books.
3: READ THE WHOLE STORY. Please read this especially if you are in a low point in life. I dont tell this story because I want you to feel sorry for me. I want this story to help you. Yeah Its a mild low point in my life and I understand that some people go through alot worse but please look past that. I have a specific reason to tell this story.
4: This is kinda weird for me to get this out there because Ive never talked about this to anyone who didnt help me through it personally. So this is going to be strange for me but I hope it helps you. Please read all the way through and if you want to say something about it please do! I would love your opinions on this matter. Thank you!
I will also have each section of the story as a few word phrase to make the next part a little easier to understand. like the one below.
Who was I?
I was a 16 year old, all my life single, hyperactive, kid attending any sort of public school for the first time in my life. Yes.. I was homeschooled my entire life. That meant that going to school for me was a huge step out of my comfort zone. I was a little shy but adapted to my surroundings decently fast. I had a small group of friends, but I never had that group of friends that I knew I could trust and talk about anything with.
First Day of School
I arrived at the school for the first time for the "prep day." Basically they did a crash course of how everything worked throughout the year and what to expect. I was going to a virtual academy while taking 2 classes at the main Highschool. I arrived at the school I noticed only 3 people I recognized. One of which was a girl I knew, but not too well. (Which I will call Ella for Identity reasons) Basically the only time we really talked is when I helped my mom take her 8th grade pictures. She was 15 I was turning 17 that year. Anyway I sat down next to her and we talked a little throughout the meeting. Little did I know that was the start of something way bigger then I could've Imagined.
Fast forward a few weeks and Ive meet a few new people but out of everyone Ella and I were closest. I was just getting into social media and one lunch period everyone was trying to convince me to get Snapchat. Ive tried snapchat before and I thought at the time It was kind of pointless, but they convinced me and helped me set up mt account.
Later that day I got a snap from Ella, and all it was were the words: "Night Streaks" now I had gotten a ton of these "streaks" for people but I finally decided to ask Ella what it meant. She explained it and we got talking. Soon enough we were almost talking everyday. We would see eachother in the mornings, eat lunch, walk to the other school on the opposite side of the campus, go our separate ways, then most likely end up chatting on snapchat until its time to go to bed, then do it all agian. Needless to say she quickly became my best friend.
My First Crush
I had never had a crush on anyone, and as a 17 year old who had never experienced "feelings for someone" it was weird when I finally met a girl that I had feelings for. It took me a while to realize that I liked Ella, but as soon as I started to accept it. People noticed..
I cant specifically remember the ammount of people who asked me but It was blatantly obvious that I liked her or at the very least felt comfortable around her. I wasnt the only one however.. One day I was walking to the school with one of her friends that over heard them talking.
"So do you like him?" Her friend asked quietly.
"Well.." Ella started to talk but quickly stopped.
Her friend gasped! "So you do like him!?"
"Yeah Ok! Maybe I do like him," Ella said. "My mom doesnt want me to date until college so dont get your hopes up."
"Well shoot!" I thought. "First crush and not even a month goes by and my heart gets broken!"
I thought about it heavely and I was upset. Not at her or the guy but upset at myself. But I managed. A few weeks go by and Im in the virtual academy building when.. the website goes down. Thats right. The main website for the classes completely un-accessible. The teachers give us the permission walk around and chat. I go over to my group of friends, Ella being one of them, and start talking. We all see Ella's "boyfriend" walking up to the building and she starts freaking out wanting to hide. Im confused but dont say anything. Turns out they had an argument and he was being a jerk to her. (I'll be honest I never really liked the dude anyway. He was a jerk)
A few more weeks go by, Christmas break comes and goes and we keep talking over snapchat. The more we talk the more I realize I cant shake these feelings for her! "Should I ask her how she feels about me?" I wondered. "I know her mom and she doesnt want her to date and I will respect that. But we don't have to date? I could just tell her how I feel! But that would make things awkward if she doesn't feel the same."
Apparently somehow her mom found out that I liked her and she got excited and wanted her daughters to invite me over to hang out and I did. I got to know their whole family well and become close to her and her family. It was almost a bimonthly thing where I would come over to their house and hang out and I thought for certain that she felt the same.
The Campout
So I am a part of this thing called Pathfinders. Its a Christian organization where its basically Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts combined into one. Ella and I went to the same club and we both went to a campout. At this time we were really close. The school year was coming to a close in a few weeks and I hadn't heard her talking about anyone she was interested in and we talk alot so I would've known. With that In mind I made sure that this campout I was going to get to know her better.
The first morning we are all gathered around for church and believe it or not the topic was love! More specifically love languages and finding yours. I was shocked partially but happy aswell.. maybe I could use this to talk about my feelings...? I was mainly confused and anxious but we basically hung out that whole day. I had so much fun and If anything I was with my best friend making memories and having fun.
Later that night, after the evening worship talk was done and the songs were sung. It was just me and her sitting around the campfire talking. We talked for a while and then she asked, "whats your love language"
At first I was surprised, but I answered the question
"Quality Time" I said
She sat there and thought about it.
"What about you?" I asked.
"I would say quality time too." She answered.
And we sat there. Talking. Spending time in eachothers company. It was at this point that I realized the Ella was special to me. I know it sounds cliche, but at that time I didnt care about my feelings. All I thought was "I want her in my life, whether she is my significant other or not. I will be there for her."
The Heartbreak
The next morning it was time to leave. I was helping her and her younger sister pack a tent when they started talking about crushes.
"Yeah you have that one dude, whats his name.. Oh steven!" Ellas Sister exclained.
"Shut up!" Ella snapped. "Were just friends, yeah we know we both like eachother but we dont want to start anything right now"
"You've GOT TO BE KIDDING!!" I thought. "Again!? I have to go through this again? Maybe I should just give up. This is useless! I keep falling for her just to be heartbroken! Its not worth it! Dont cry... its ok. Oh shoot... Im riding back with her in a car! Dangit! I have to keep my composure for that long?"
"Enough of me ok!" Ella exclaimed. "Why do we have to talk about me?" Ella looked at me. "Who do you like?"
Yeah.. after having my heart broken. My crush that I was certain had feelings for me. Is now asking who I liked.. and wouldnt stop.
"Come on I am your best friend you have to tell me!" "Your like always so hidden about your feelings its ok to talk about how you feel" she kept on and on trying everything to break me and find out who I liked. Meanwhile I have my sunglasses over my eyes praying they dont see the tears I'm trying my hardest to hold in. I had it.. I wanted so bad to say I liked her just to shut her up, but I knew it would only make things worse. I thought about pur talk last night and how I said to myself that I would always be there for her. It took a while but she finally stopped asking and we left for home.
I know they say men arent supposed to cry but when I got home and layed down in my bed I cried. Just when I thought things were going my way it all came crashing down with insult to injury included in the painful fall.
Summer Camp
The end of school was here and I had accepted a job at a summer camp out of state. She had broken up with that one guy and I was barely over what happened on the campout. When she found out I was going to be gone all summer she was the only one who gave me a shocked and sad reaction.
I left for summer camp and we kept in contact. Quite often having late nights texting over snapchat. I was still heartbroken but I told myself I would be there for her and If anything Im going to be her friend. Even if she never knows I will still be by her side and be that person she can talk to when things are hard.
Summer camp ends, I return and come to find out they had transferred over to my church and were going there every weekend now. Which I thought was cool. Now I can see them every weekend instead of just school.
School starts, Im a senior now and she is no longer attending the Virtual school so Im seeing her alot less now. We still however kept touch on Snapchat.
The Challenge
You know those challenges on snapchat where you answer questions about a person. It could be your brother, sister, girlfriend, boyfriend, etc.. yeah when I texted my friend to get a person to answer the questions about. Yeah... I got crush... I still had feelings for Ella so I decided to answer the questions with her being the person. (I hope this all makes sense)
Not much time passes and I get a text from Ella.
"Ok.. you have to tell me who this person is!" She said
A little while later she Is being very persistent. I try changing the topic once and she wont have it. She will not stop asking me until she gets her answer. So I start dropping hints. Hoping she gets the idea that I like her.
After a few hints are dropped she is trying to be my wingman. I was done, I decided to drop one big hint before I was going to drop the conversation all together.
"If you just tell me who it is I can talk to her and try to see if she feels the same!" She said.
"Im afraid you cant" I replied.
"Why not?" She asked
"Unless you look in a mirror I dont see how you can" I said.
Silence... she knew.
After all this time, all this heartbreak, all this wondering what would happen if she knew. It all came down to this.. we talked a bit about what I would say if the feelings were mutual and how I wasnt interested in starting a relationship partially because I wasnt ready and partially becuase I wanted to respect her parents wishes. It was ok. She took it well but didnt say a whole lot.
It was like a huge weight had been lifted up off my shoulders. But it finally started to sink in.. she was visiting family.. I wasnt going to see her for 2 weeks. What will things be like in person. Will things be awkward? He siblings know, are they going to treat me differently?
Thankfully it didn't, but things were never the same after that. I had grown closer to her family and now we were hanging out alot more. We had this small group of friends that we hung out with alot and It was a blast! Like I said before Id never had a close group of friends that I could talk to and I finally was getting there.
Fast forward to the end of the school year and into summer. I decided to stay home that summer and not work for summer camp and we ended up hanging out with that group all summer long. Most days we were either talking or hanging out and I became really close with that group. I had thought that with the way our relationship has been going and how close we had gotten I was going to give it one last try.
The Big Campout!
It came time for the International Pathfinder Camporee! (Basically its a pathfinder event but 50,000 people go and camp in an airport its pretty dope!) And I was determined to make this camping trip a way to see how she felt towards me.
The first day! Going great! We hung out all day.
The second day! Hung out most of the day but I had work to do so I didnt hang out all day with her.
The third day. We barely hungout.
The rest of the week she basically ignored me and hung out with another group of guys.
The camp out was done and I was feeling down. I had noticed her hanging out with another one of my friends and I was a bit suspicious.
The Third Heartbreak..
It was a Saturday afternoon and we were hanging out in town. Ella and my friend were all over eachother all day. I was getting suspicious and was keeping a close eye on them. We went over to a friends house and it was then they just went all in. They were holding hands, cuddling by the pool, hugging like 24/7... I was done. I had enough. That night I barely got sleep. I couldn't help but check their Instagram feeds with the pictures of them two wondering if she still remembered how I felt. Did she ever feel that way about me? Am I just bad at reading signals? What the HECK!?!? HOW MANY TIMES AM I GOING TO FALL FOR THE GIRL WHO BROKE MY HEART NOW 3 DAMN TIMES!?
needless to say.. I barely got sleep. I couldn't last a minute without a million questions running through my mind. It was the first time I experienced depression like this and I didn't want to do ANYTHING. My brother saw that I was super depressed and told them to stop posting every minute on their Instagram stories how much they love eachother. Turns out she put all the peices together and texted me.
It was very simple..
She apologized for everything and said she didn't know that it hurt me.
Out of everything that she said.. one thing she said stood out to me.
"I want to thank you for everything you've done. You have been there for me like nobody has and I dont want to loose you as a friend. I love you and I want you in my life."
It made me realize that despite the heartache. I was her friend. That I promised myself that I would be there for her despite the circumstance. I never realized until then how much it meant to her. That no matter what I was there for her.
I later found out that when I said I liked her, she cried because to her it meant someone liked her for who she was. No benefits, not for her looks, or to have a status symbol. That someone was there for, her.
Fast forward a year.. because I fell in love with her, her mom made us hangout, because we hung out we dragged other people along in the friend group. Now, I have the closest group of friends I ever will have. I dont know how to describe the relationship with this group. All I know is if it weren't for this group, I wouldn't be where I am today. Two of them would be dead, or in severe depression. This group of people are family. And it took being there for someone through the hard times, to find my second family.
So why do I tell this story? Not to make you feel sorry for me or applaud me or anything. This is not a selfish story. Instead I want you to take this story, and know that sometimes it takes a low point in your life to get you to a better part. There were many nights where I question God why am I going through this? Why do I have to be so dumb and ignorant to fall for this girl 3 times just to be heartbroken? I believe it is because of that heartbreak that I got to where I am today. That I found my friends. That I learned what it meant to love unconditionally. And that is why, you never give up when its hard.
I know my story is very mild compared to others but let this, if anything, Inspire you to keep moving. Keep pushing. You dont know whats on the other side. It might be what you are looking for. You just havent gotten there yet. Hang in there!
submitted by kindamehbutok to stories [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 21:46 Affordable_Paradise DDLC: resurgence - part 4

First I would like to thank you for all of your upvotes. I really appreciate you taking the tome to read and appreciate my fanfics. I will make sure to be making more in the future, but for now, let’s get into the story!
Chapter 4: planning
Yuri places a picture of our main suspect down on the table in the main room. “Sayori is a well known friend of mine, and the fact that we had just found out that she is the one who started the fire is a huge stepping stone for us to solve this case.” Yuri says to us. “Ok, well what do you know about her Yuri?” I ask her “I know that Sayori may come across as a cheery and giddy girl, and that she usually likes interacting with people and making new friends. Please don’t let this fool you though. She is a mentally unstable girl that has quite the history with depression. We might have a way to contain her, but it may require a bit of force.” She says in response to my question. “What kind of force are we exactly talking about?” Mikasutsi butts in. “Tranqs... Like I said, she is mentally unstable, and who knows what could happen if we try to contain her while still awake and functioning. She could badly injure us, or even worse, threaten to take her own life. We need these tranqs so that we do not kill her, but still manage to incapacitate her as well.” Yuri says. “I think I have some tranq darts and a gun from when my father worked as a zoo keeper. It should be just about dosage to knock her out for a while” mikasutsi says. Now we are getting somewhere. “How will we move Sayori into our questioning office? We have to have some form of transportation in order to get our suspect over here.” I say. “I rented a van so that there would be at least space for more than all of us to fit in there.” Yuri seems to have thought this plan well out. “Here’s the order of action. Mikasutsi will provide us with the tranq guns and scout the area that Sayori is residing in. Once we have enough info on where she is, we can begin to move on in. We have to do it quietly though, as to not alarm Sayori and blow our cover. As soon as we reach her location and have a clear visual of her, we hit her with the tranqs, incapacitate her, and move her into the van to bring her back to HQ. Sounds good?” Yuri has all the details laid out evenly. We all agree on the plan of action and get our gear up and ready to go. Yuri prepares the van, mikasutsi gets the tranq guns, and Kitsana sets up comms. We are ready.
submitted by Affordable_Paradise to DDLC [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 21:05 Dewi22 Differentiating some of the creatures (part 1)

Ok, one of the races I wish to talk about are the jǫtunn. They are the giants, remember? Yes, but no, actually. They are best described as super hungry & greedy raw random nature forces of the worlds. In other words, see them as chaotic aligned d&d primordials/elementals***. They come in all shapes and sizes, and look drastically different or very similar to one another with little consistency (like humans and their appearances). So why is it they are viewed as all giants? That could stem from the fact the are either directly/indirectly born from the divine twin(I dunno how he is a twin, possible the twin of the cow?) Gargantuan Colossus giant named "ymir". Some born near the top were more beautiful and more close to his size, while the rest born near the bottom were more ghoulish, shorter, uglier, and dumber of thier kin. They breed and eventually breed with the non jotunn to make odin and his brothers, who kill ymir to make a world, which is never specified WHICH of the worlds made (I like to think the bottom world under middle earth). The jotunn became enemies of odin and his tribe of gods. And thor is described as killing multiple giants. These reasons are probably why people use the word to mean mainly giant.
But let's look at the categories within the jotunn, shall we? I will be using some typical modern rpg fantasy class terms*, so bear with me. Just like the dwarf/elf have categories and subspecies within their race, so too do the jotunn. Those are: trölls, þurs, and risi.
First trÖlls. What exactly are they, specifically in a OLD norse since, compared to the modern way of think about troll. Please note I will be excluding Christian influences or themes from these words and ideas, so while trǫlls have witch and demon listed, I will exclude those. Troll meant someone(interms of the jotunn) who live in isolation or with their mother or father in the mountains, with intelligence & cunning, magic (maybe), and some code of honor. It was applied to Fiends, werewolves (being they were most likely berserker with wolf skins, or people smart enough to turn into them), and the jotunn themselves. They seemed to be smart/wise hermits with scholary/advanced knowledge of the unknown and caused problems for those below the mountains, probably by storms, droughts, plagues, vermin, scary noise, and phenomena uneasy to explain in isolation, and even paranoia. I guess you can say these are your mage class of jotunn
Next, thurs. They are categorized as basically man-eating, ugly, hill-billy smarts, super strong "giants" or jotunn; even they are called ogres (not in the sense of being green funny looking dude like the animated DreamWorks film called "shrek", but more so in the sense of a dumber caveman version of the giant from "Jack & the beanstalk"), or savage/wild beasts/monsters with little thought. I guess fenrir falls into this for the fact he is a literal giant beast wolf, is savages, doesn't think alot through, and eats humanoid flesh (týr's hand); BUT falls into troll for living by himself in the end with his sons, and posseing the ability to speak, and suspect foul play when the small chain was brought towards him. I guess that's why he is called a vargr, being a criminal/monstrous jotunn + wolf. I guess the thurs are your fightemelee(non magical)/warriosingle-combat duelist class of jotunn.
So basically we have the brawns & brains class mentioned so far.
Lastly, the least known to me group of jotunn, the risi. Now I don't know much, but their name SPECIFICALLY means giant-giant, as far as I know. They seem to have more positive view of them, and seem to have a mix of both thur and tröll attributes, the thur brawns without the cannibalism and low intelligence, AND the tröll brains without the magic and isolation bit. They seem to heroic and just the general term for the colossal giants people mistakenly use jotunn for. I don't know if they ever appear in the poetic edda**. Aka, these would be your ranged(ranger)/rogue/scout/archemessenger class of jotunn.
Next, I would like to talk about the spirits and creatures of the dead, MINUS deities (jotunn, dwarf/elf, aseivanir, etc...)
First, the valkyries. They are NOT angel looking being with feathered helmets, NOR are they really warrior-warriors, but simple grim reapers to collect the dead, be hosts to said dead (in a play-boy (rabbit) style, or a very more lewd/NSFW/skimpy hooters restaurant styled girls in either nothing or a bikini, while being subjectively attractive and frigg/freya (I consider them the same, even though they became separated goddesses in a MOSTLY CHRISTIAN DOMINATED time, thus true old norse frigg to me will always be the same as freya) the half jotunn being the leader of them), and possible warriors during ragnarok. I don't know where the feather helmets came from, or the idea of them with angel wings, but they are just necked girls riding horses.
Next, the vœttír, the spirits of the world, which there are many types for many reasons and different things. Seems self explanatory.
Draugr, the spirits and undead of the world, with supernatural abilities and a passion for revenge or unfinished business. Play the (not so great without mods and a bunch of other things) game "skyrim"? Yeah, that can explain it better, minus the winged lindworm (called "dragon") relationship and lore they share. The draugr can even "hulk" out and become giant sized and wreck havoc, even getting people Ill & sick.
Last for this post are the the disir, who could be almost any of the mythogical races, even the aforementioned valkyries and elfs. They seem to be primarily guardian spirits, and a ALL female group, mainly of dead ancestors (which overlaps them a bit with the origins of valkyries & elfs), and could be seen in the same vein as the irish banshee if they wailed for death. However, please note that this would relate them to dwarves, and elves have males in them (völund), and valkyries don't guard or protect people AFAIK. Also, elves are beautiful, were disir can look like any female.
They could be a category like the word jotunn (probably/maybe) is, with elves, valkyries, and many more dead/ghosts/spirits falling underneath them.
*note: I do NOT claim to be a scholar (in both since of having went to college or study every tiny bit of info only allowed to scholars or people who pay alot of money), simply someone who makes a lot of ((IMO) Logic based) theoretical assumptions about the differences between creatures.
**note: Also know I will NOT be using the second hand source glorified FANFIC that is the prose edda, for things like certain races. Neither any poem, story, edda, etc that draws from the prose or uses names of being only first mentioned in the prose.
***note: Dark elves are the dwarves, who dwarves not only share names with elves, but are also supposed to be a dualistic contrast to the elves, with elves being farming, cropping, and hunting aspect of the race; and the dwarves are the industrial, economic trade, and craftsmanship of the race. Think plain (Pre-christain) old norse dvergar as dark/black/blue/raven(coloured) skinned midgets of giant-giants who live underground, with both males and females having beards, and being ugly looking mini version of the greek god HEPHAESTUS, being also guardians of the dead. Meanwhile, plain (Pre-christain) old norse álfar as light/white(as in glowing, sometimes white skin)/bright/golden/yellow/rainbow(colored in the light spectrum) skinned thin, beautiful, and hippie versions of the dvergar, who live In thick, lush, ancient summer forests with food, deer, and other natural resources, with females being most of the population in contrast to the dvergar, and the males looking somewhat like femboys, all with long hair, basically males looking like the ascended greek god DIONYSUS, and females looking like the greek god APHRODITE; all the while, álfar being guardians of the living. Dwarfs = sickness, elfs = (good) health/non sickness. The reason BOTH became short people has to do with Christian influence and the fact lesser beings or deities was translated as literal small to reflect their small powers. Thus I suspect them of being giant sized halfings or midgets, with one being fat, the other being slim, one being rounded face (dwarfs) the other being slender (elfs).
Also, another way to look at them in comparison to greek, is to see dwarfs as the lustful satyrs after beautiful & beauty seeking elves who are the nature nymphs.
****note: for give me for using this game, because while I know not everyone plays are knows the original, nor the specific setting faerun lore, I figured to those that DO know, it would be easier to draw comparisons to get a better picture.
submitted by Dewi22 to Norse [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 19:25 TAHaywood [Richard "Quickdraw" McCallister: A Eulogy][Derby] Chapter 14 - Final Respite

When the Tamani blew a hole in his ship, his friend, and his career, Richard McCallister called it quits. But when he gets word of another alien incursion, with his friend's family in the line of fire, he charges back into danger on the outskirts of settled space to yank them out of the maw.
That was his plan, anyway. But things don't usually go according to plan.
Cover Art
First Part
----------
Elbows braced on my knees, I stared at the ship.
It’d been pretty much what we expected -- a small, agile ship with the blocky, angular edges customary for Solaran make. Heaven help us, we hadn’t quite mastered the art of aesthetic shipbuilding like some of the other races had.
Even still, this ship had been better once. It’d been whole. Now, it was little more than a twisted, shattered husky lying sprawled across the cargo bay floor.
My console beeped. Without looking down, I keyed the button, triggering the next batch of transfers.
Strip the ship’s data files, I’d been told. Pull them off as best you can, and send Captain Taylor anything of import. Anything that’d spell out what happened here.
I had. I’d been told not to look at the files as well, but how the hell was I supposed to figure out which databanks held the information we needed without looking at the damn things? I hadn’t looked at them for very long, was the compromise I’d reached with myself.
I hadn’t needed to.
The images contained within still filled my mind, appearing in my vision every time I blinked. The comm broadcasts from the planet. The transmissions from the surface. The pleas for help. The screams.
And the final messages beamed into the black by those who never expected their words to be heard.
That courier heard it all as he’d blasted out of atmo. He’d recorded it. And thus, I’d heard.
We’d been so hopeful for survivors. I’d been so hopeful.
When we’d cracked open his ship, we’d found him collapsed at the controls. Suffocated, they’d said. Enviro failure.
What he couldn’t say, his records had. I saw him on the planet, dropping off...whatever it was that Dusters wanted to trade with each other. I saw him accepting a frankly-shocking sum of money -- a sum I already knew would be whisked away into TerraCorp’s coffers. And I saw the first ships appear, flecks of light against the black.
He’d tried to get away, to get offplanet. But the Tamani had been faster, and his ship...he’d made it out into the black, but not intact.
The console beeped. I hit the button. Another log began the journey into our databanks.
Footsteps rang across the deck. I flinched -- and then leapt up at the sight of two figures approaching. Clay -- following behind Captain Taylor.
The captain only nodded at me, though, eyeing the ship.
“Like I was sayin’,” Clay said, and for once, his tone actually seemed respectful. “We’re processin’ as best we can, but with this amount of damage...it’ll take a lot of reconstruction and-”
“I understand,” the captain said heavily. “Lock it down.”
Clay froze. Hell, I froze too. “Pardon?” he said, before I could squeak out a word.
Captain Taylor’s expression tightened, deepening the lines that etched into his face. He wasn’t a particularly old man, but in that moment, he looked like he could have been my grandfather. Dark circles ringed his eyes, giving his already-shipbleached skin a grey cast. “Lock it down,” he said again. “Pull the entire memory system and put it under a seal.” His eyes flicked to me. “You can do it, yes?”
I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly bone-dry. “Yes, sir. Of course. But...why do you-”
“The board has requested to handle this personally,” the captain said, turning back to the sad, ravaged hull of the courier’s ship. “We’re to ferry it back to Terra Prime for their investigation. It’ll be handled by them, not us.” Again, his eyes darted to meet mine. “And any information contained within is for their eyes only. Do you understand?”
My skin prickled, burning away under that gaze. “Yes, sir. Of course. Right away.”
“Good.” His lips flickered in what might have been a tiny, half-hidden smile -- but he turned away without another word, vanishing into the Rheasilvia in the blink of an eye.
I stared after him. My mind burned with questions, one I knew damn well I couldn’t ask. Not if I wanted to keep my position in the corp.
The console beeped. I reached over -- and then froze. Slowly, carefully, I hit the kill command. The transfer windows collapsed in on themselves, finally disappearing entirely.
The courier’s words didn’t disappear. I could still hear him crying, gasping for air. It was right there, like I’d stood beside him as he slipped away.
A hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing gently. I looked up. Clay was looking at the ruined ship, not me, but I knew that he knew, without me having to say a word.
“You heard the captain,” he whispered. “Lock it down. And then…” He shook his head. “Let’s get a diagnostic on the aether injectors. Not likin’ their prospects if we’re doin’ a hard burn all the way back to Sol.”
I nodded. His fingers pressed into my shoulder again. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try and offer any comfort. There was nothing to say.
Turning back to the console, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Clay’s fingers slipped from my jacket. Windows flashed across my screen as I reached into the connections we’d spent a day and a half forming and one by one started to sever them.
His steps were slow and soft as he trudged away.
-----
Steam wafted off the surface of the stew, dissipating into the dim light of the pub.
McCallister scowled, tightening his grip on his probe. When he jabbed it into the arm’s guts, though, the whole limb wobbled. “Damned stupid piece of-”
“Calm down,” Lily said. She reached out, grasping the arm and steadying it. “You’re scarin’ the kids.”
“The kids are fine,” he muttered. With her hand on the prosthetic, he nudged the cabling inside to reveal the once-ravaged aether port. He’d already had to replace the whole stupid outer casing to mend the crack he’d torn.
Still...they’d no sooner hitched a ride on a rescuing hauler back to Solovei than Wyatt had approached with a tiny vial of stabilized aether. With that addition, the innards were once again glowing a healthy red. He was almost done.
“You should eat somethin’,” he heard Lily say.
“I will,” he mumbled. “In a minute.”
“Only, it’s goin’ to get cold if you-”
“In a minute.”
She sighed, and he could hear the exhaustion in the noise. Oh, he knew how that felt. He felt like he’d been put through a thrasher, with bruises along his chest and legs that were only beginning to blossom. Every movement hurt.
McCallister snorted. “Guess I’m getting too old for this.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
“Look, just take a load off for half a damn minute and-”
“We don’t have time for that,” he snapped, his frustrations rekindling. “Damn it, Lily, at any moment those alien bastards could-”
“Quiet down.” This time, her voice had an iron edge to it, the sort that brooked no disagreement. “There’s folks around. Be a grumpy ol’ stodge if you want, but don’t go scarin’ folks.”
McCallister lifted his head a fraction of an inch, letting his gaze wander the room. The hauler had dragged them to a dingy pub in Solovei’s center -- the best the colony had to offer, Lily had assured them. They’d claimed a booth in the far corner for McCallister to start his repairs.
He’d hoped for somewhere a little out of the public eye, but now, he could see just how badly that plan had failed. Colonists filled his vision. They lurked behind tables, peered out from around corners and doors. All of them were watching him and Lily.
“Great,” he mumbled.
Lily laughed quietly. “Ah, well. They’re figurin’ it out now, you see. Before, it was just a scary story you told ‘em. A warnin’.”
“And now it’s real.”
“Just so. Maybe don’t go spookin’ em worse than they already are, eh?”
“They should be spooked,” McCallister muttered, but his voice dipped low. “They should-”
“The signal you gave us went quiet again,” Lily said. A flicker of movement drew his eyes back to her, just in time to see her prop her elbows against the table. Bruises dotted her tanned skin, spreading across her wiry arms and down from her forehead. He’d look no better, he knew. Her gaze was dead serious, though, and entirely composed. “Seems you were right. These were just scouts. So-”
“So we should-”
“Let a girl finish, would you?” she said with a pointed roll of her green eyes. “We’ll be hurryin’. But if we’ve got a spell of quiet, you should take it.”
“I’m fine.”
“Right. Of course.” She seemed to recognize that she wouldn’t get anything else out of him, though. Leaning back in her seat, she grabbed for her cup, and took a sip of something that almost-certainly wasn’t water. Her eyes were fixed to his arm, altogether too sharp. “Don’t that hurt?”
“...What?”
“Poppin’ your arm on and off just like your hat. Seems somethin’ like that’d want to stay attached.”
McCallister clenched his teeth, shaking his head. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Oh. Only, I’d think-”
“Again. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Oh.” Lily chuckled. “Weird.”
He heard the gentle clink of silverware as she took another spoonful of stew. His own eyes were fixed to the coupling. He’d mended the casing, and refilled the tubule with stabilized aether. The containment system didn’t seem to have been damaged in the fray, so all he should have to do was connect the damn thing. Easier said than done when the whole thing was buried in a tiny shell filled with a mess of cables.
So engrossed was he that he missed the low footsteps approaching their table. He did hear Lily set her cup down with a thunk, though.
“Evenin’,” she said, with an odd, formal air to her voice he hadn’t heard before. McCallister looked up.
A man stood alongside the table, shifting from foot to foot. He was built like a damn brick wall, with a shock of black hair trimmed short and a sea of stubble across his blocky face. McCallister could almost remember him, just a vague image of his face among the men surrounding Julian while the alarms screamed.
“Sorry to disturb your night, folks,” the man said, with a broad smile. McCallister didn’t trust a smile like that on a man like...well, like that. It carried the same self-assurance that screamed that he was totally and completely aware he could break both of them apart with his pinky finger. “Figured you two were in charge of this operation.”
“And?” Lily said, arching an eyebrow. She glanced back to McCallister in the next moment. “Ah, see. This here’s Jason. Jason Briggs. He-”
“Mining,” McCallister said, the man’s name resurfacing at the reminder. “You’re the poor bastard who just poured all his money into that new mine on Solovei II. Right?” Maybe he was being too direct. Maybe he should be more polite, since he was pretty sure he could remember Lily saying this asshole was a big deal. But, damn it, he ached, and he’d been banged around all night long, and he just wanted to get back to his work. This was as good as ‘Jason’ could ask for.
Jason winced, but his grin didn’t quite fade. “And you’ll be that exiled TerraCorp man turned courier.”
McCallister could quite clearly hear the thump of Lily kicking Jason in the ankle. “This is Rick McCallister,” she said, her voice cheery. “Our own Mister Quickdraw, I’m thinkin’, after today. He’s here to help.”
“...Right,” Jason said, his smile unfaltering. “I’m sure. Look, Mr. McCallister, I-”
“Just McCallister is fine.”
“...McCallister, then. I know you’re trying to help.” The man’s grin positively gleamed. “I think I can be of service. You’ll find my company is well-equipped with a variety of mechanics and tools, all ready-prepared to-”
“Stop blowing smoke up my ass and spit it out,” McCallister growled, shooting him a sidelong look.
Jason did hesitate, then, his brow furrowing. “Ah...I’m afraid I don’t-”
“We’ve been out here working for a good long while now,” McCallister said, still glaring at him. “You could’ve popped over and helped out anytime you liked. You didn’t. But now you have. Which tells me-”
Lily’s foot jabbed gently into his shin. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes flashed meaningfully.
“You want something,” McCallister finished, bringing his tone down a few notches. “So what is it?” He eyed the muscle-studded mass of the man, lips pursed.
To his credit, Jason didn’t even flush. “It’s not like that,” he said, but his voice was as oily as ever. It wasn’t right for a man built like him to try and play sneaky, McCallister thought sourly. He should be crass and hamhanded. But a crass, hamhanded man wouldn’t have risen to the head of a colony’s industrial sector, either.
“Oh?” McCallister said. “Then what’s-”
“I think we can help each other,” Jason said, folding his arms. He was missing three fingers on one hand, McCallister realized, each replaced by a silvery limb not unlike his own -- albeit of substantially more crude make. “That ship’s been rusting away out in the sun for almost two generations. Sure, we might get it off the ground, but things will break.” His grin turned crooked. “I think you’ll find my equipment well-suited to helping with the repairs -- or helping with new fabrication, should we wind up stranded somewhere.”
And he’d get to bring along his oh-so-expensive fabrication rigs, McCallister thought sourly. His expensive, large fabrication rigs.
“Not my problem,” McCallister said, bending back over his arm.
He heard Jason shuffle forward. “Well, I thought you were running this show. How’s about-”
“That’s Administrator Julian’s problem,” McCallister said, fighting the urge to bat the man away like the nuisance he was. “If you’ve got people who can help us get flying, send them over. Sooner rather than later.”
“W-Well, if I’m expending my own resources, I’d at least like to know that I’ll-”
With a final click, the tubule snapped into place -- and the prosthetic came alive under his hand. McCallister smiled grimly, turning back to the mountain of a man. “You can help us or not. Your choice. But if we can’t get flying?” He held Jason’s stare, made sure the man was watching him carefully. “We’ll all get blasted to nothing. Together. It won’t matter who’s stuffed the damn thing more full of cows or machinery or whatever.”
The man’s lips tightened, with crows’ feet appearing at the corners of his eyes. McCallister eyed him a moment longer. “Consider carefully.”
With a slap of his flesh-and-blood hand, McCallister closed the panels of his arm, then slotted it into place. His nerves quivered nauseatingly. Smothering a sigh at the renewed aching of his bones, he stood, collecting his coat and settling his hat back on his head.
“Hey,” Lily said. “You ain’t even ate yet. Sit down and-”
“I’ll be fine,” McCallister said. “Got work to do. Someone’s got to keep us breathing.”
Lily’s protests followed behind him as he strode for the door, but she didn’t try to stomp off after him or anything. He smiled grimly. Already, his mind raced, filled with tasks yet to complete. He needed to check with Wyatt about the enviro assembly. He needed to go over the main engine one last time. And he needed to do a pressure check on the airlock hatches, unless they wanted the whole ship to come apart once they left atmo.
Too much shit by half, and not enough time -- not when the Tamani were already breathing down their necks.
The pub’s door clattered shut behind him as he stepped out into the building chill of the night. Just like inside, colonists seemed to teem in every open space. They’d be moving back to the city proper, he realized. The loners, the ones who lived on the outskirts. No one could miss the shitshow of them taking out the drones, and they’d realize how much trouble they were in.
More people counting on them to save everyone.
He grimaced, turning back toward the distant hulk of the colony ship. At least there they wouldn’t be watching him. Trudging forward, he-
“Mister?”
McCallister stopped, glancing off to the side -- and for the first time, he heard the low rumble of an idling engine. Quinn sat atop a 4-wheeled runner, his dark eyes just wells of blackness in the night. “Oh,” McCallister mumbled. “Quinn. Were you- I don’t know if I can teach you right now. I need to-”
“Mom said to give you a ride back,” Quinn said, and flashed McCallister a sheepish grin. “Said you’d probably be a...a-”
McCallister rolled his eyes, watching the youth suddenly shrink back and avoid his eyes. “Let me guess,” he said, chuckling. “A stubborn ass?”
“Something like that,” Quinn mumbled. “You’re going back, aren’t you? To the ship?”
“Yep.”
Quinn’s face lit up again. “Sweet. Then-”
“Do you have a license to drive that thing?” It wasn’t a big vehicle, but...Quinn couldn’t have been more than twelve. He trusted Kara, really, but there were limits.
Right on cue, Quinn’s face turned mulish. “Do you want a ride?”
“Fine,” McCallister said, holding his unoccupied hand up. “Fine, fine.”
At Quinn’s furious gesturing, McCallister clambered up onto the back of the runner, seating himself on a somewhat-flat surface. No sooner had he plunked his ass down than Quinn opened the throttle of the tiny vehicle. With a lurch, they took off.
McCallister just held on, swaying gently with every motion, as the homes of Solovei drifted past. From the corner of his eye, he could see another figure hurrying down an alley toward where they’d been moments before -- and he recognized one of the others who’d been harranguing Julian. Larry, no doubt, here to try and negotiate space in the cargo hold for his herds.
He’d have to find a way to appease them. All of them. Hell, he could tell Julian to do it, but he already knew that wouldn’t get him too far. The man seemed competent enough as an administrator, but, well, he’d met colony administrators before. And, like it or not, they’d need the resources these families had to offer. They needed the cattle and the machinery and the sheer manpower.
Somehow, he’d have to figure all of that out.
For the moment, though, McCallister just sat back, tugging his hat a little lower, and let Clay’s son carry them both out of the city and into the dark.
--------------
“Hey.”
McCallister scrabbled with the bolt clutched between his fingers, shoulder-deep in the generator. Oil squished under his grasp, coating everything in a greasy, slimy film that made it slippery as all hell.
“Rick? Hello?”
Just a little more. He scrunched up his face, stretching hard, and-
Someone grabbed his shoulder. He flinched, shying away.
A metallic clink echoed through the chamber as the bolt fell from his grasp, tumbling deeper through the maze of pipes and connectors.
He twisted, nostrils flaring. “What the hell do you think you’re-”
Kara flinched back, her hand still outstretched. Behind her, half-hidden at the exit, he saw Ada jump behind a bulkhead.
“O-Oh,” McCallister mumbled, pulling himself free of the generator. He rubbed at his face, remembering moments later that he was covered in grease and slop.
“Rick…” he heard Kara sigh. A moment later, she grabbed his shoulder again, turning toward him.
He glared at her as she mopped at his face, a handkerchief in hand. “Come on, Kara, I’m not-”
“Can’t leave you alone for five damn minutes without making a mess.”
He could feel his cheeks reddening. He was a grown-ass man, not one of her crotchgoblins. Before he could protest, though, she pulled away, eyeing him sidelong. “Go.”
“What?” he mumbled, his own voice sounding like it was filtering through a layer of cotton. “Kara, I-”
“You got yourself banged half to death, flying halfway around the damn planet. You haven’t slept since...hell, I don’t know when you slept last. And Lily told me you haven’t eaten, either.”
“I’ll sleep when-”
“I had Adaline throw together a cot in the colonist quarters.” Kara crossed her arms over her chest, her black eyes fierce. “Use it.”
“There’s still work to be done,” he said. “I can’t. I still need to-”
“Rick. Now.” A smile quirked at the corners of her lips. “Let the others work, too.”
McCallister paused -- and then, once he’d pulled out of his frenetic labors long enough to pay a lick of attention, he felt it. The rumble of a reactor vibrating through the deckplates. The gentle gusts of fresh air on his face through the vents.
He glanced to Kara, but her smug smile only grew. “Go on, then,” she said. “If I see you up before you’ve had a solid six hours, I’ll-”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, waving her off. “Got it.” Hell, he’d seen her rip into Clay a time or two before. That wasn’t a fight he was going to win, and both of them knew it.
With no option left, he turned, toddling off toward the living quarters. The world seemed oddly quiet, quieter than it had any right to be. The halls seemed to close in around him, the lights overhead blinding but somehow leaving his vision dim.
“I mean it!” he heard her holler behind him.
He flipped a middle finger over his shoulder, and heard her laughter echo through the hall.
All the way to the end. Take a right at the T-intersection, and-
A dim glow lit one of the rooms -- and when he slowed, peering through, he saw a utilitarian green blanket covering the bed inside. Emergency issue, like the rest of what they were stocking the ship with, but...well, it’d be warm.
He meant to sit down on the edge of the bed, no more, but somehow, he felt the gentle touch of cotton against his cheek. The pillow swathed his head, swallowing him whole.
Something jumped up alongside him, a gentle mass that rumbled and purred from within. It settled against his midsection, kneading his gut.
He was gone.
Next Part
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2020.09.11 02:20 ParkGeunhye What's your favorite indica or indie-leaning hybrid?

Hey hey! So I used to be all about OG strains but over time found that most strains in the Girl Scout Cookies family vibe with me even better. Gelato, wedding cake, and do-si-dos are some reliable favorites for both their therapeutic and recreational benefits. The high definitely can vary by brand though. I really wish more products were tested for terpene profiles because of that but I digress...
Anyway, I'm still looking for THE strain for me in any case. So any suggestions for some high quality flower? Or just brands you're partial to so I can check out their indica selections. I mainly smoke to relieve anxiety and anhedonia, but I love when I find a strain that sparks my creativity too.
submitted by ParkGeunhye to CaliforniaCannabis [link] [comments]


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