《Perfect World》Chapter 11
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Scene
Liam Scott and Basil Rock are on an auxiliary yacht, the Sunbeam, far from port. Its sails, more for show and naval tradition, were down, its boiler empty and smokestacks without smoke. They invited acquaintances aboard to witness Arwen Mordecai's death.
Liam Scott and Basil Rock were on an auxiliary yacht, the Sunbeam, far from port. Its sails, more for show and naval tradition, were down, its boiler hungry and smokestacks without smoke.
"Have you done it?" Basil Rock asked, peering at the dock through his brass binoculars.
"Patience." Scott murmured.
"They might know by now."
The crowd behind yelled in agreement, one even man saying, "Let me fire the damn flare."
Scott twirled the signal gun in his hand. "The wait makes the spectacle more satisfying."
"I have no time for-"
Bang.
Rock flinched. Red smoke illuminated the ink-spilled seas.
Scott narrowed his eyes and grinned. "Did you...?"
Rock tightened his grip on his binoculars. "Don't be ridiculous." Rock had reason to fear Scott.
Liam Scott was a wolf unafraid to bite, a Soldier Dragon who stayed too long on the battlefield and became too fond of guts and bones. His destructive tendencies persisted even when he was discharged and had the chance for a quiet life. Arseny was spared from the worst of war because of its natural defenses, but Rock saw countless veterans returning with the same restless look in their eyes. The battlefield devoured their souls, trapping them in a purgatory many struggled to escape. Scott was different. The two crossed paths once and though his face was rugged and impassive like the side of a cliff, Rock could tell Liam Scott detested civil life by the hate he cast upon everything with his gaze. He enjoyed terrorizing the streets until he was caught in the act of beating a person to death. Arwen Mordecai gave the order to put Scott down, quietly. Everyone thought the man had died. No one survives the ASSR special agents. Rock, in a stroke of luck, stumbled on Scott in an alleyway, the man's legs blown off, a chunk of his torso gone.
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Rock nudged what he thought was a corpse but it stirred and Scott lifted his head to glare and snarl, teeth stained with blood, "Leave."
A man in his situation could only be dead or daring.
Rock squatted. "You've never looked better."
"What do you want? To finish me off?"
"We share the same goals that neither of us can fulfill alone."
Scott spat on Rock's shoe, "Lick my boots."
"Who do you want to kill?"
"What?"
Rock gestured at Scott's missing lower half, "The people who did this to you, or the person who did this to you?"
"I want to kill them all."
"Very good."
"Is this a trap?"
"It is not." He fished out a card from his breast pocket and put it on the ground in front of Scott.
"Basil Rock of Eel Loans. You might have heard of me."
Scott squinted, either from pain or the effort to remember. "I don't recall."
Rock stood. "I'll bring some people to help."
He smirked, "Stay alive."
And Basil Rock hurried away, vowing to never be left unattended with Liam Scott.
The warehouse walls shattered and a fireball imploded the roof, its heat scorching Scott's face like the sun on a hot summer day. The wind picked up and fanned the flames until the entire wharf was ablaze.
Rock hollered, "Yes! Burn! Burn!"
"He's dead! Is he really?" The crowd chanted, jockeying closer in disbelief to see the demise of a person born from nightmares. So many people moved to one side that the ship listed with the weight and threatened to capsize.
Scott swung his pistol at them. "You fools! Stay back or we'll sink."
Rock clutched Scott's suit, "No human could survive that!"
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He looked back at the fires, reassured Arwen Mordecai perished. "They're dead."
Scott tossed the gun into the ocean, "Celebrate! We must celebrate this moment."
Rock forced Scott to keep his hand up, "This is the birth of a new era! No longer will we hide in the gutters of society. We are free! Free to do what we want."
The wooden floorboards creaked as they went below decks to wine and dine and engage in decadent acts. Had they stayed a minute more they would've seen the black dragon with gold veins fly into the night.
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The curse
Set in an unraveling world, Bran just keep on fighting and trying to survive his curse, knowing that his death is already set in stone. Bearing his sad past, he fights a desperate fight, while trying to uncover the secrets of his fate and curse. Theodore, a weird young man, uncover a great secret about Origin, a boring horror filled virtual game. Knowing that someone is trying to control him, he tries to understand what is awaiting him and prepare for it, while shedding light on the mysteries of this unraveling world.-------------------------------------------------------The cover picture was made by Ahmed ShalabyMy name is Jason BrowlerThis is a story with a proper beginning and ending, and I have most of the events mapped in my head, so don't expect things to go your way. I made the most original story and setting I could think of. Critics are very welcome. A missing tag is the mystery tag, and this story will be very very very very long story
8 176The Last Journey
A slice of life litrpg story... or is it? It's burning slow, though. Moving on: War comes with a great cost. Lives and time wasted for most part. One could either be run with sword, be poisoned, be bowed, and sometimes meet their end with just a tiny speck of wood. With magic, it becomes even more colorful. From lightning, to worse poison, to hovering rocks, to weird bladed leaves, to whipping roots, and to a lot more odd things easily reasoned with magic. A wonderful creation. But once used to something more than wonder, more than tricks to gather laughs, it becomes worse. War becomes worse. For there is not only blood to be spilled. A particular town almost met the same end. Soldiers geared with swrords and bows came with mounts. Horses burning lush grasses as it cracked boulders and the soil alike with every step. The kind that only war ones could ever do. Even strange wheeled creations that oozed danger were towed, loaded with something meant to destroy. But not once had they acted upon what such devices should've done, nor what an an army is supposed to do. Siege never occurred, as much as a command to war. No. Magic existed so a simple little fire is all the worth the town has. No sword drawn, no arrows nocked, nothing. Just some mana spent and through the ash they march. That was how Nudius saw her end. It came not even as a surprise. She didn't have the moment to fully register what occurred before she found herself in an empty dark space. Life lost, time spent. All from a fire that had not even touched her. But she knew very well that it was magic. Something she wished to have and strived for to have. Yet it seemed that none of it would matter now. Nudius was well aware of what the color around meant, of the odd situation, of the unfeeling state of her being. It was death and that was it. She didn't have to worry or dream further. Although there wasn't what she truly wanted in what death to her is, but at least, Nudius was comforted to what she believed death is. Rest. But little did she know there's something more than that empty space. It wasn't only the promise of rest, but was also more than she could ever hope for. Another chance at life. Another chance to dream. ***Tags are there just in case. You never know! Umm... HI-MI-TSU. Story blurb+: This is slow burn, quite slice of life story about a girl learning magic. All the while as she fatten herself up. So yeah, progression fantasy. But there's Litrpg! Numbers! Magic! Spells! And of course! There's something more. But read on ahead, please. Oh yes. Plot! There is, too. Disclaimer: The cover isn't made by me. Just layered it with a text. I got it from a free website, if I correctly recall. I'll see to it. (Haven't worked on it.)
8 153The God Crisis
Thaddius has found a safe haven. The Valley of Statues, but can he keep it from hordes of undead, devils, and creatures of the void. Or worse, the goddess who promised to help his friends. When your goddess isn't happy with you, you should be careful what you ask for. Arc 3 of the Thaddius Rockgrip Chronicles. Cover art: Mary Evans
8 139Slade the Shade
What is your greatest fear in your life?Death, heights, or maybe the creepy mutations with eight legs.For Slade it is boredom ,so when the first VRMMRPG, called Limits, came out you can expect him to sell everything he owns to combat his fear.What will he do when the first thing he does is anger a goddess in game and start without a class. "As he was shivering and feeling cold sweat on his back, he can barely hold back his excitement as he thought that this is what he came here for, a change in life where he could feel his dead heart beating without caffeine to stimulate it." Cover art not mine DM if you want it removed
8 301The chronicles of Tinker
When an average gamer comes into the world to find his own adventure. Along the way he discovers new places and meets many people. Little does he know that he and his friends will become of the most influential players in Royal Road.
8 162Bekowe rozmowy || Supernatural ||
Będę wstawiała tu bekowe rozmowy postaci z Supernatural stworzone przeze mnie :DDD ________________________________________________ #134 Humor 3/8/2016 #123 Humor 14/8/2016 #105 Humor 16/8/2016
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