《incomprehensible thoughts》fireplace
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can i be your fireplace?
just like how you're mine
all you need to do is exist
for me to be warm
i'm heated to my soul
when i'm around you
but i'm your jacket
i wrap around your being
i trap the heat that's already there
i don't want to just be your jacket
i don't like just scratching the surface
because you're still cold when you have a jacket
why can't i be your fireplace?
why can't i warm you to the bone
and send shivers down your spine
why must you be such a good fireplace?
why must i be such a thin jacket?
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- In Serial125 Chapters
Fallout: Vault X
An original novel set in the Fallout universe, written to be accessible to all, featuring unique people and places. Vol.II. out now Fallout: Vault X tells the story of John. A vault dweller, who spent every day of his twenty five years underground. Like his father, and his father before him. Proud to live in the last remaining bastion of humanity, all that survived The Great War of the atomic age. Hidden deep below the surface of the earth, toiling under brutal conditions. Year after year, decade upon decade. All to expand into the natural cave system the Vault occupied, building for the future. However, John knew what his forefathers did not, that everything he’d been taught was a lie. After finishing school at the age of ten, John received his standard issue pipboy. An arm mounted personal computer, worn by everyone in the Vault. Used to coordinate the relentless pace of expansion, needed to work as an apprentice. To learn the craft that would be his life’s work. A noble calling to ensure a future for all that remained of the human race. A quirk of fate saw John equipped not with the crude, clunky, pipboy model his father wore. That almost everyone around him wore. His looked smaller, sleeker, finished in a jet black sheen. And capable of doing far more than its drab counterparts. The world above had been ravaged by atomic flames, yet life clung to its bones. The Red Valley fared better than most in the century since the bombs fell. The clean water and rich soil protected by rolling hills. All spared from direct strikes, for the most part. Life survived here. Trees spawned from charred ground, misshapen, green leaves turned red. Along with simple crops, grown wild at first, then cultivated by the survivors. The scavengers of the old world were inventive, hardy people. All determined to rebuild in the ruins of a world they never knew. In the decades that passed settlements emerged. They grew, spreading along the valley floor. Reclaiming the pre-war remnants of the once industrialised heartland. Salvaging the robotic wonders of a bygone age to build their walls and work their fields. To protect them in the dark of the wasteland. But such things are uncommon in this world, and the rarer something is, the greater its value. And the worth of pre-war technology had not gone unnoticed. The last, real, power in this world rested in the mechanised hands of The Brotherhood of Steel. Forged from the mortally wounded old world military. The Brotherhood used its access to the weapons made for a conflict no one won to strike out into the wastes. Men and women were equipped with advanced armour, aerial transportation, high grade weaponry. Accompanied by the training, strength, and will, to put them to use. They established chapters and set up outputs far and wide. All dedicated to a single purpose. To ensure the technology left abandoned by its long dead creators didn’t fall into the wrong hands. Namely, any hands that were not their own. This is the world John escaped into. A place of horrors brought forth from atomic fire. A place where survival meant battling against the darkness. Fighting a war each day to get to the next. And war...war never changes
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Alon wishes to be remembered—to stamp his existence on this cruel world, to engrave the fact that "he was here" into the very Earth. This is his sole purpose; To be important. For what greater reason is there to exist if not to be remembered? People are special. People aren’t... Your actions in this life define how those left behind remember you. Once you die, you’re reborn and live on, if only for a time; The grander the actions in this life, the longer your second one becomes. Alon knows this better than anyone, and he will live in the minds and hearts of everyone in Krestelen longer than anyone that has come before. Krestelen is a place long forgotten by those outside its walls; known by most as the Cursed City of The Dead, with the Lower Tier of the City being abandoned by the Upper Tiers after an inexplicable Fog blanketed the entire sector thirty-four years ago. This Fog adds those unfortunate enough to be caught within it into the legions of Vacant roaming the empty streets of the city: A creature that has seemingly lost all reasoning and sanity, to wander around the streets crying into the palms of their hands as they beg for help, to be freed from their condition. This is the place that Alon, and the Gang led by his mentor Casian, shall steal the very source of what gives those in power—the rightfully ruling family, the Deramore's—their ability to live in luxury as those below in the Lower Tier struggles to survive. They will forever be cast into the annals of the history of this cursed place—for better, or for worse.
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When a legendary a magic knight from the past is reincarnated in to a future in which the society is relearning magic to incorporate it into their advanced technologies. Join Race as he makes himself a legend once again while saving his galaxy from alien invaders. I try to upload 5 chapters a week, from monday to friday. Mech's that are able to cast magic like mages, fight with swords that can tear apart space. There is not much world building and such in the early chapter, But I hope to create a universe which the reader will be able to enjoy.
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