《Ruin - Soon to be Published!》Ruin - Chapter 20: Grand Theft Airship
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My Prophetess. May your humble servant ask, what is the status of the fleet?
Their construction proceeds apace. Our builders estimate the last of the airships will be completed in a month. The invasion will begin shortly after.
Good. I’m afraid I have some bad news to report. Alia and the prime of earth are still missing. Vachir has gone into the Black Forest in pursuit. Hopefully he will soon find….
Lord Sceith could feel the Prophetess’ rage building in his mind. Each word burned.
See that he finds them. If he returns empty handed, send him to me in chains. If he completes his task, take them both prisoner and capture him anyways. When the invasion begins, his usefulness as my liaison will pass. It will finally be time to add Vachir to the ranks of my obedient followers… after I have a little fun, of course.
It will be done, Prophetess.
***
Vachir’s spirits were low. He and his troops had bid farewell to the Ll’tal. Around him, his men were refreshed. They joked and laughed in spite of their journey dragging them deeper into the Black Forest. His empathic abilities should have fed off the joy around him, but Vachir was a dark cloud among rays of sunshine.
There was a storm coming. It wasn’t of natural makings, but of the purest evil. Worst of all, he knew exactly where it would strike and how it would end. And I can’t tell anyone, he thought to himself, depressed.
He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. He knew what was coming, but he would do everything he could to save as many as possible. Prophecy be damned. Vachir turned his attention back to the task at hand.
They are in there… somewhere, he thought quietly to himself as the group continued their trek. Their search for the awakened had continued, but since Vachir’s sharing of memories with Specialist Hartzell and his secret conversation with Emat, the plan had changed.
Now, he just needed to find them.
***
“We all ready?” Alia’s voice carried over the assembled crew. Various “Yes Ma'ams” and “Aye ayes” sounded from the group of seventy three. Among them, Henry stood, tall and in good spirits. Finally, he would get to travel on foot with the rest, unashamed and unhidden.
“We’re revolutionaries now after all,” he had argued. “No need to hide. Let that woman try to take my mind again. See what happens.” He’d gotten no argument from the captain.
Jim picked up his repurposed bailwing bag and strapped it tightly to his shoulders. Over the past two days, he and Henry had been hard at work, removing the air canisters and wings from the bags and replacing them with rations, black crystal dust, and water.
The journey to Freeport would take weeks and would require everyone to bring enough supplies to last them at least that long. In addition, the group had to carry enough black crystal dust to collectively trade for a furnace, boiler, and other supplies needed to get their airship back underway.
Their entire trip would take over a month there and back on foot. Amongst the crew, the idea of bringing both sloops was discussed, but it was ruled out as being too difficult to move the vessels, small as they were, through the dense forest. Landships were built for open desert.
Without fanfare, their group of awakened survivors set out for the long journey to Freeport.
***
Time was up. At a brisk pace, Vachir and his men would be hard pressed to return to the rendezvous on time. Perhaps, Emat’s ‘prophecy’ wasn’t so clear after all, he thought quietly to himself.
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Finally, he made the call. “Alright men. We’ve searched long enough. Let’s go.” Relief was written on all their faces. Days in the thick woods had worn the group down. The previous night had done wonders, but it went without saying; none would miss the Black Forest.
Sandra was a mess. Her clothes were stained with dirt and grime. Her usual Kepi had been tucked away in her backpack days earlier to allow her sweat covered head to breathe. Motioning to the group, she did an about face and marched to Vachir’s side.
As they started their long journey back, Sandra attempted to lift her commanding officer’s spirits. She sidestepped to avoid a pile of hacked down plants and shrugged. “The plan would have worked much better if we had caught up with them, but these are good men. Every one of them. We can still do this.”
Vachir sighed as he too stepped gingerly over the obstruction in their path. “Yes. We can. It’s just going to get… messier than I had hoped. We could have used their abilities.”
Suddenly, Specialist Hartzell, at the front of the slowly moving group, threw up a hand signal to take cover. Smoothly, the twelve of them melted into the surrounding brush.
Vachir was proud. His LC had picked her entourage well. All moved with an impressive professionalism and grace. Hartzell may have been the expert in stealth, but all in the group were products of intense training and the best teacher of all: experience.
Vachir hand-signaled to the front from behind his clump of brush, Report.
The reply came quickly.
Something ahead and to the north. Something big. Something coming this way.
***
Jim and Alia quietly slipped a couple dozen meters ahead of the main group. Despite their slow progress through the thickening undergrowth, he was in high spirits. The past few evenings had been bliss.
During the day, they’d been careful to keep their interactions professional.At night though, when they were alone, Captain Rychist hung up her hat, and Alia Rychist, the woman he was falling in love with, was on duty. He found himself letting go of his natural reservations a little more each time.
As they walked along, she filled him in with many tales of their exploits before meeting him. Fifty years aboard the Liberator, the last ten of them as its captain, afforded many stories.
Each was more interesting than the last, but Jim hardly heard them. He was just happy to hear her voice, and more importantly, to see her smile again. Her bouts of silence and melancholic reflection were lessening by the day.
Before they had set out, a funeral service was held for Doctor Benjamin Hanson. Many of the crew gave testimonies of their experiences and adventures with the Doctor. Jim regretted that he had only known him for a few weeks, and he could only imagine the pain those who’d known him for fifty years must have felt.
Suddenly, Jim felt a hand interlock with his own as they walked along. He looked down and then glanced back nervously toward the group behind them. Some whispered amongst each other. Others whistled catcalls their way.
“Uhhh cap… Alia, I thought you wanted to keep this under wraps,” Jim whispered.
Alia snickered. “Actually, it was you that wanted to keep it that way. It’s a small ship Jim. Trust me, if they didn’t know already, I’m sure they all would have found out soon enough.”
Jim smiled and tightened his grip. “Besides,” Alia added, “I’m complicated. Remember?”
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They both laughed.
It came as quite a surprise when twelve soldiers emerged from the underbrush.
***

“That’s far enough, captain,” the oldest among the enemy soldiers ordered.
From behind Jim and Alia, an alarm spread quickly through their group. In seconds, everyone’s weapons were drawn and pointed at the soldiers. Henry rolled to the front of the group, a six shot pistol in each hand. His hands were as steady as the earth itself. Jim couldn’t help but wonder if Henry could expel all twelve rounds as quickly as he could mow down cannibals with a blunt weapon.
Captain Rychist smiled politely, careful not to take her eyes off the leader and replied, “I wouldn’t recommend that, mister umm?”
“Vachir. General Vachir of the Free Citizens’ Federation. And, may I assume, you are Captain Alia Rychist, thorn in the Prophetess’ side and public nuisance in the southern empires?”
Alia shrugged. “Guilty.”
Slowly, Vachir lowered his weapon and slung it to his back. He motioned for his soldiers to do the same. After a momentary hesitation, his men complied.
His grimy hand gripped her own and shook it briskly, replying, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. We have much to discuss.”
***
Hakiim was genuinely surprised.
It had been exactly seven days since Vachir and his band of fools ventured into the forest on their hunt for the fugitives. Secretly, Hakiim hoped they would all perish in the attempt.
He’d always despised Vachir and by extension, his men. For reasons he’d never understood, the Prophetess had decided not to bless Vachir’s mind with her wonderful touch. She had insisted it was meant to foster trust between the military of the Federation and the Holy Land.
That was reason enough for him to obey. He was compelled to after all, but deep down, he hated the man. Although it was buried far in his subconscious, away from the Prophetess’ watchful eye, Hakiim was jealous for the man’s freedom.
Vachir would finally get what was coming to him. Hakiim was under strict orders to blight the general’s mind as soon as the prisoners were in custody. Yes, finally, you will join our ranks, dear Vachir. Then, you’ll fall in line and answer to Her Highness, he thought gleefully.
Both scout ships bobbed up and down behind him in the gentle breeze. Their anchor ropes creaked in protest as the small airships pulled them tightly, always reaching for the sky. Although both vessels were manned mainly by soldiers and airmen of the FCF, awakened priests, loyal to the Priestess were posted on every deck, watching for any sign of disloyalty.
Soldiers darted across the deck, performing tasks for their awakened watchers. The Prophetess had wisely kept the militaries of the Federation and Alliance hobbled when it came to airpower. Even when working alongside Federation military, her priests manned the most important positions at all times. Pilot, engineer, quartermaster - all were under their tight control.
Soon, the FCF would find its unpopular partnership with the Holy Land broken. Until then though, he had been ordered to play nice. Manning two airships, even ones as small as these with so few priests would be prohibitively difficult.
Hakiim sighed happily as he imagined their destruction. He dropped from the last rung of the rope demarcation ladder and began pushing his way through the tall grass to greet the general.
***
The plan left little room for error. The next few minutes would determine their success or failure. From just beyond the treeline, Vachir and his men, haggard but very much alive, emerged. With guns at the ready, they prodded Jim and Alia whose hands were bound behind their backs.
“Greetings Hakiim,” Vachir called from across the field. “Our hunt went well. They led us on quite the chase, but the Prophetess will be happy to know, both primes have been captured and are ready for extradition to her care.”
Jim and Alia did their best to feign struggle. One of the soldiers jabbed Alia with the barrel of his rifle. “Move it!” he shouted at her.
“Ow!” she whispered back through gritted teeth. “Not so hard, sergeant.”
Sergeant Grell replied in a whisper, “Sorry ‘bout that. Gotta sell it, you know?”
***
From the depths of Hakiim’s mind, the Prophetess spoke, I’ve decided to convert this one personally. Long have I waited to bring Vachir into our family. Now, the time has come.
As always, her voice was like a small fire burning inside his head. He blinked away gathering tears and replied, Yes, my queen. I am most pleased to be chosen for this task.
Vachir stepped forward, nodding but choosing not to bow to Hakiim. “As promised, Hakiim, I present to you Captain Alia Rychist and the prime of earth, Jim.” Around them, the gold tinted grass swayed in the afternoon breeze. Jim and Alia’s hands were hidden from sight beneath their tall blades.
“Just Jim?” Hakiim inquired.
“Just Jim,” came his reply. He yawned and asked the short priest, “And you are?”
Normally, he would have been outraged at the display of blatant disrespect, but Hakiim was in good spirits. Vachir would be hers today. Nothing could dampen his mood. He was about to reply when the Prophetess’ voice pierced his mind again.
I want to speak with him, came her icy words.
Yes, my queen, he replied.
Hakiim closed his eyes and surrendered his consciousness to the Prophetess’ control. It took some time. This far north, her power was weak, slow to fill him. Everything that he was receded deep into his subconscious allowing the Prophetess to emerge unhindered
Through Hakiim, she spoke, “Hello, Jim. Prime of earth. I’ve been searching for you for a long time. You may recall, we met recently.” Her voice was overlaid with Hakiim's. It reminded Vachir of Lord Scieth.
Jim silently glared at the imposed Prophetess. She continued, “You will finally join the ranks of my chosen today. Fear not. The transition is painless. And when it is complete, I look forward to meeting you in person.”
Jim replied, “Just so we’re clear, you are...”
Through Hakiim, she smiled and replied, “I am your queen, the Prophetess.”
“Good,” Alia spoke up. “That makes this much easier for me.”
The plan was set in motion.
Suddenly, Alia was free of her restraints. Her arms were outstretched. With hatred in her voice and blazing fire in her eyes, she added, “Time to burn you out like a plague, bitch.”
From the treeline, fires from a hundred torches sprang to life. In the next moment, a salvo of superheated fireballs arced in a parabolic trajectory directly down toward their position. At once, the sky filled with black streaks of greasy smoke.
Again, time slowed for Jim. A few meters above them, the hundred fireballs congealed into a giant meteor of flame. Very slowly, Alia directed the convergence downward to the possessed Hakiim-Prophetess.
Now, time nearly stopped. Jim looked down to where Hakiim had been standing. In his place was the same stunning woman he had cast away from Henry’s mind. Her blue dress flowed in an ethereal waterfall of glimmering light. He knew she wasn’t really there as he could see through her to the cowardly priest she possessed.
Unbound by the constraints of time, she detached herself from the priest and paced around him, observing. In the background, the fire continued its impossibly slow crawl toward Hakiim.
“I must admit, my child, your little trap is quite impressive,” she began with a smile. Her face would have been perfect if it hadn’t have been for the evil darkness swimming behind her eyes. “And to convince my dear Vachir to turn against me. You simply must tell me all about it when we meet in person,” the Prophetess added.
She continued, “Perhaps it was a mistake to let Vachir remain detached. He was always so strong willed.” The prophetess sighed. “But onward to more important things. Time is short, and my servant will soon be consumed.” She nodded at the crawling fireball, now only inches from Hakiim’s face.
“Too bad, too,” she added. “I have so few primes among my chosen.”
“What do you want, witch? Answer quickly. I cast you out of Henry and I can do it again.”, Jim replied, impatiently.
“Oh, I’ve no doubt you can; this far from my throne at least,” the Prophetess conceded. She added, “And perhaps you will win this battle. I’m guessing those are the awakened crew that blindly follow Alia in her-”
The Prophetess stopped pacing and turned to face Jim, “Oh dear... When I said her name, I felt… Oh, you foolish boy, haha!” Jim was annoyed but said nothing. The Prophetess clapped her hands together, giggling, “Oh what irony befalls us both! Of all the people for you to fall in love with. Fate indeed smiles on me.”
“She’s not one of your damn breeders anymore. Her soul will never be yours again,” Jim shouted back, anger building. Time continued its slow march. The fireball, burning in slow motion, began to singe the hairs on Hakiim’s head. Each strand slowly curled back as it glowed.
The Prophetess continued laughing. Jim noted, the hair on her ethereal head was also singed. As her perfect face started to blacken, pain crossed her eyes. She turned to Jim and muttered her last words, “I’ll see you soon. You’ve set the prophecy into motion. Thank you.”
Suddenly, time resumed its normal pace. Hakiim opened his mouth to scream, but it was too late. The mass of burning destruction slammed into his body with all the force of Alia’s fury. For a moment, the charred husk of Hakiim stood; a blackened statue of surprise. But, the moment passed and his ashes were blasted away into oblivion. All that remained was a charred pile of dust and a ten meter wide ring of burning tallgrass.
Jim didn’t have time to consider the Prophetess’ words. To his side, the others burst into a sprint. If they were going to capture the Prophetess’ scout ships, they would have to be quick. Surprise was the key.
The crew of the Liberator spilled out of the forest and rushed outward toward the second ship.
The plan was simple enough. Jim, Alia, Vachir, Grell, and Hartzell would make their way onto the first airship and dispatch all the awakened “keepers” assigned to it. The crew of the liberator and the remaining soldiers, under the direction of Lieutenant Colonel Mason, would overwhelm the second airship and do the same.
Vachir and Mason, earlier that morning, had assured them that the FCF crew aboard both ships would not resist their general or his second in command. Jim hoped they were right.
The three rope ladders creaked as they scrambled up the side of the ship, followed closely by Sergeant Grelland Specialist Hartzell. It was a short climb.The airship had only been floating a few meters above the ground.
Vachir was the first over the rail, followed closely by Jim. They simultaneously rolled onto the deck and stood to face two very surprised priests. Before the men could react, Vachir swiped his hand through the air. Suddenly, a deafeningly loud bolt of lightning tore across the ship and cooked the priests’ insides instantaneously.
Before their severed bodies hit the plating, the group was already in motion, scrambling downward to the gun deck entrance. Alia and the others spilled onto the top deck behind Jim and Vachir in close pursuit.
The two nearly stumbled through the entrance as they rushed in. The late afternoon sun cast rectangular pools of light on the planking through square gun ports, illuminating the room adequately. Jim raised his weapon while Vachir and Alia manipulated balls of lightning and plasma inches from their hands.
It was unneeded though. Ahead of them, standing at attention was a squad of FCF Soldiers. One of them nursed a burn wound across his right arm but, the rest looked to be in good order. Face down on the deck ahead of them was a priest, no doubt a fire awakened judging by the one soldier’s injuries.
The senior of the squad saluted the general and spoke, “Corporal Sodhi reporting, sir. The ship is secure.”
Vachir was speechless for a moment before asking, “Uhh corporal, how did you know?”
Still at attention, the man smiled, “Know? Know what, sir? We saw what happened through the starboard gun ports. Unfortunately, Priest Kell figured it out a bit quicker than we did.” He pointed at his comrade’s injury.
“Well, that was the most anticlimactic boarding action I’ve ever been involved in, and believe me, I’ve had my fair share,” Alia commented. Behind her, Sergeant Grell and Specialist Hartzell were equally confounded. Before Vachir could reply, the sound of gunshots cut through the air from the outside.
“The other ship!” Alia shouted as she rushed back up toward the main deck. The others followed, close on her heels.
Jim emerged on the topdecked last. He blinked away the afternoon light to see what had caused the commotion. Unlike the first airship, the second had been bestowed a bit more time to react. Deep inside the ship, Jim could make out the sounds of furious gunfire. There was a fight taking place below. From the sound of it, things were going very poorly for the soldiers on board.
However, it was the priests on the main deck that were of more immediate concern. It seemed a much larger detail had been assigned to the second ship. At least twelve of them were raining awakened power down below on the crew of the Liberator.
Many attempted to return fire, sending fire bolts and gunfire of their own, but the priests had the advantage of elevation. Men and women were ducking behind knolls, bushes, and any other cover they could find as the battle quickly turned.
“They’re pinned down!” Alia shouted, “we have to bring down that airship, now!” The balls of flame in her hand congealed and grew. She began to funnel her power into the growing inferno. The expenditure of awakened ability quickly took its toll as charcoal black color crept alarmingly fast up her fingertips toward her wrists.
Vachir too was forming his own rapidly expanding ball of energy in preparation for attack.
Wait a second, Jim realized. I’m a prime of earth, right? Well how about I move some damned earth then.
Before they could begin their assault, Jim stayed them. “Wait!” he shouted over the rising torrent of electricity and fire.
Stepping forward, he raised his hands.
“I think.”
He closed his eyes.
“I’m finally.”
He directed his will.
“Getting the hang of this.”
He struck.
A loud rumble poured out from the earth beneath them. On the far side of the airship, away from the troops struggling below, a wall of soil and rock rose up. Quickly, a shadow engulfed both ships as the wall grew and blocked out the sun.
He could hear the crew cheering, but the sound soon faded. As before, the world around disappeared. All that remained were beacons of light. Each representing the life force of the individuals below and on the ships.
Jim looked out toward the second airship and spotted twelve life forces. All glowed the reds and yellows of awakened fire and air wielders. One of them glowed much brighter than the others. Another prime of fire, he thought. Strangely, it was not quite the same hue of red he’d seen before in other fire awakened. Black shadows seemed to crawl and wind across its surface.
The wall of soil and rock continued to grow. The crew scattered from their defensive positions. In seconds, Jim had formed the wall into an enormous arch of living, moving earth. The forty meter airship was dwarfed by its enormous shadow.
Then, he simply let go.
Jim’s senses were overwhelmed with the noise. The air shook with a mighty roar as tens of thousands of tons of earth fell upon the helpless airship. After a brief burst of steam and fire, the vessel was buried under meters of rubble.
Jim saw the lights of the enemy priests flicker out of existence, their bodies committed to an eternal earthen grave. But, one burned on.
The sickly light of the prime awakened of fire was unphased. Jim took a deep breath and cleared his mind of the second sight. Below them, the airship had been buried. A giant mound of overturned dirt and stone had taken its place. A mushroom cloud of dust and ash climbed slowly into the sky.
The crew and soldiers cheered. “Incredible,” Vachir gasped from behind him.
“No kidding,” Alia replied. “You did it, Jim,” she added.
Jim shook his head and turned back to the scene, “Not quite. Look.”
A small section of the earthen pile began to vibrate and shudder. Creaking metal and falling rocks announced, something was emerging. The sound grew louder and louder until finally, the earth seemed to belch a section of rubble outward.
Alia shouted over the growing commotion, “What the hell? There’s no way anyone could have-” The prime erupted suddenly from under the ground. Soil fell around an invisible, perfectly spherical bubble that had surrounded him.
The priest turned to them and began ascending, floating in midair. The crew, both on the ship and the ground opened fire with a salvo of bullets and awakened fire. The priest floated gently toward the topdeck of the second ship, unaffected.
Plasma and lead bounced off the invisible barrier harmlessly as he continued along his airbound path. Alia and Vachir spread their arms, prepared to release their own powers upon him as he approached. Jim shouted quickly, “Wait! Hold your fire!”
Holding orbs of awakened lightning and fire above their hands, they waited. Finally, the priest landed softly on the deck.
“You,” Vachir spat, “I should have figured the Prophetess would send her second in command after me. I suppose I should be honored for the special attention, Lord Scieth.”
A white toothed grin formed beneath the man’s hood. Jim stared at it, wondering quietly, where have I see that smile before? Glancing at Alia, he could see she too was puzzling something out.
The man laughed. Rather, the voices of two men laughed in unison. He turned to Jim and Alia. His hand emerged from his robes to point at the couple, “Don’t be so dense, Vachir. These two know me by another name.”
Pulling back his hood, he finally revealed himself.
“Sasha!” Jim cried in astonishment. There was no mistaking it. Standing before them was Jim’s friend. His eyes were dark orbs of evil, but the body was that of the young man that Jim had befriended.
Jim shook his head, “But I don’t understand. How could you possibly -”
“Let me ask the questions and save us all time,” Sasha interrupted. “How could I be Lord Scieth? How did I sneak onto your ship and remain hidden from the air awakened among you? How did I taint Henry’s mind? How can I fly?”
Sasha raised an eyebrow and added, “I think that about covers it. This is the part where I laugh maniacally and tell you all about my evil plan. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.”
Smiling, he spoke his final words, “What I’m actually going to do is drop this barrier, attempt to destroy you all, fail of course, and watch the horror in your eyes as you’re forced to murder your young naive friend. The best part is, my consciousness will simply move to a new host. See you all soon… very soon.”
Before either of them could respond, Sasha spread his arms. A pillar of fire quickly took form between his hands.
There was no time to beg him to stop. There was no time to do anything. Jim watched helpless, unable to act as Vachir and Alia prepared to stop Sasha with fire and light.
Suddenly, the cloud was gone from Sasha’s soul. As promised, Lord Scieth had moved on before their friend was to be struck down. The buildup of fire continued though. They would have to kill Sasha before the flame was released.
A rush of wind and a blur of metal announced a different fate for young Sasha. Alia and Vachir unleashed their stored energy simultaneously. Fire and electricity sailed to the treeline, dissipating against the trunk of an unfortunate pine. Sasha was no longer standing before them
In his place, Henry stood, staring down at the boy’s body. At the last moment, with his impossible speed, Henry had scaled one of the rope ladders and knocked Sasha unconscious, saving him from a much more gruesome fate. The boy would live.
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Dead yet not dead. Blood but not mine. Carnage all around, destruction throughout time. I'll take this here land and put down a sign. Fight if you want but this territory mine! A simple verse that conveys my feelings, I'll protect what is mine regardless of the opposition. I am Z and I will thrive.
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The world is peaceful in 2063. Fusion reactor and Diamon battery had taken care of the energetical problem. Countries were stable. Automation was everywhere. Life wasn't hard anymore, at least not in the United States of Europe. Summer break is about to start and, finally, Zoe will turn 18 and be able to play the game, Binding Fate. A simple video game, a vrmmo, but what swam under its surface wasn't simple. Power, fame and money were but the tip of the iceberg... State: Hiatus because I've an idea for another story. Quick F.A.Q. : - Yuri/female homosexual relation? Yes.- Yaoi/male homosexual relation? Maybe.- Explicit Sexual Content? Maybe.- Full Fledged Tragedy? No. Never, ever ever.- Body Modification/Body Horror? Yes. (Note: what one person think is body horror can be acceptable for someone else. If you want to see to what length I can go, read a bit of The Other Labyrinth. However, I won't go as high as quickly in the body mod/horror, so relax.- Gore? Hell yeah! I love gore! spraying blood and viscera etc...- Torture? Hurgh... maybe? Idk. Not at the start at the very least.- Memory loss/erasing? No, or at least not permanently. I basically hate this trope because it's like taking out all the character grow from a character, destroying everything that makes them what and who they are. so no.- Overpowered protagonist? You will see mufufu...- Will characters stay relevant seeing how numerous they are? YES, MOTHERFUCKING YES, I hate when characters relevance decay over time for no good reasons ^^'- Plot Armor? First of all, a definition: "Sometimes referred to as "Script Immunity" or a "Character Shield", Plot Armor is when a main character's life and health are safeguarded by the fact that he's the one person who can't be removed from the story. Therefore, whenever Bob is in a situation where he could be killed (or at the least very seriously injured), he comes out unharmed with no logical, in-universe explanation." (courtesy of https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/PlotArmor I love you guys ^^) So now that this is said, do my characters have plot armour? No, because I always have an in-universe explanation, even if you don't know it yet ^^ Something is illogical or don't make sense? Read more, the answer is surely in the story ^u^- Balanced system? If you want to crush numbers and have a perfect equation balancing all the system, that's not the story for you. The system is more like a living being, and the rewards aren't forcibly tied to the level of the player. In fact, the system is purposely unbalanced ^^' Author's note: My goal here is to write a slow-paced story revolving around the bonds linking the characters, be them family, friends or lovers. Fight will be part of it, but I intend to build an actual interesting world before making truly large-scale battle happen, because the bigger a battle is, the larger its causes and effects are. I also aim at telling a story about how the characters actually help each other becoming stronger, more stable and happier. I particularly despise the lone MC type that becomes so powerful that every other character of the current setting become irrelevant beside being hostage targets, so this will not happen. I also like crafting, arrays, blacksmithing etc... so there may be crafting. Another thing I like is management game like sim-city or the like, so this while also appears, keeping in mind that I like MC's that make people around them stronger... For the tropers around here, a list of tropes that I like to use (note that I may not use all of them ^^) (this list will be updated as I dive deeper and deeper into our dear trope wiki.)- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BodyHorror- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SealedGoodInACan- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/YouAreNotAlone- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ZombieAdvocate (In particular since I see a lot of things that aren't human as worthy to live and to live with)- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EvenEvilHasLovedOnes- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EvenEvilHasStandards- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HeelFaceTurn- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CorruptTheCutie (Note: being corrupted don't mean you're a villain, only different than before.)- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DefectingForLove (Of course.)- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/VillainousRescue- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/InterspeciesAdoption (For the same reasons as zombie advocate, since I love family stuff)- https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BrokenBird (to go with corrupt the cutie if it's a girl)Cover: "The Bard" by John Martin, 1817.
8 153 - In Serial53 Chapters
I'm In Charge of SCP
Object Class: Keter Description: SCP-X is a humanoid that calls himself as "Zhang Jue" and came from a parallel universe with traits that are unaffected by most SCP anomalous objects. Long-term observational studies reveal that he has a mildly antisocial personality and loves to trash-talk. SCP-X can obtain the ability of a particular SCP anomalous object through physical contact, and the ability obtained will be adjusted accordingly to his condition. Special Containment Procedures: Special attention needs to be paid to the containment of SCP-X. (Special precautions towards themself) SCP-X should be contained in a single villa designed by a French designer, not less than 50 x 50 x 20 meters, with a garden on the top floor and a swimming pool with no less than 200 square meters in the courtyard. The Foundation shall assign a male staff member over 50 years of age, trained in British royal etiquette, who shall wear a wig 24 hours a day to assist in the management of the villa. The staff monitoring the SCP-X behavior must undergo a monthly psychological evaluation. There have been cases where staff had quit the Foundation because they could not stand the trash talk. Updates 1 chapter daily!Read up to 40 chapters on my Patreon (patreon.com/nahyesq)Full credit goes to "Walnut again"
8 249 - In Serial24 Chapters
The Party's Tank is a Masochistic Trap
Beautiful Kirin Torisetti, a fresh graduate from the Academy of White Knights, sets off to the Kingdom of Swords to join an adventurer's guild. After an accident lets him meet The Dragonlaird, Faolan Dier, and The Salvation Fairy, Alia Fhengyr, he soon is invited to join their little and yet overly powerful party, Fable Eclipse. With his powers as a Paladin with Vampire Magic, Kirin faces many quests and challenges that he tries to overcome simply by being his true masochistic self.
8 83 - In Serial200 Chapters
All What Haiku'd Write
[Completed] An eclectic collection of my own haiku poetry.Poems are mine.Cover artwork is mine.© 2020-2021 SkittishReflections - L. M. Shayle
8 142 - In Serial90 Chapters
Eldest Potter
While Harry James Potter was only 1 and a bit years old when his parents died, his older sister was 3. Born on the 1st of May. Her full name, Rosealine Lily Potter. The goddaughter of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Whereas Harry only had Sirius as his godfather. When Rosealine looses her parent's she is the one to be effected the most. She lost her parents and could remember the whole thing. Of course, when Voldemort attacked, Rose took it upon herself to protect Harry from him, even when she saw her mother drop down dead.That night she ended up getting a scar on her wrist.This scar was not like her baby brother's. In fact. Her's was in a heart shape. Now... She's forced to move in with an aunt and uncle that she really didn't want to go to.
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