#THEY HAVE AN ARMADA WAITING IN THE DREAMING

[satoshi-mochida]

Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii announced for PS5, Xbox Series, PS4, Xbox One, and PC - Gematsu

Publisher SEGA and developer Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio have announced Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, and PC (Steam, Microsoft Store). It will launch on February 28, 2025 worldwide.

Get the first details below.

■ About the Game

A new legend begins as you step into the steel toe boots of Goro Majima, a man who has lost his memory and reinvents himself as a pirate on the open sea. Embark on an over-the-top, modern-day pirate adventure with an ex-yakuza, now pirate captain and his crew as they engage in exhilarating combat on land and sea in the hunt for lost memories and a legendary treasure.

Pirate Yakuza Adventure Ahoy!

Goro Majima, a notorious ex-yakuza suddenly finds himself shipwrecked on a remote island in the Pacific. Unable to remember even his own name, he sets sail in search of clues to his lost memories, accompanied by a boy named Noah who saved his life. Before long, they’re caught up in a conflict between cutthroat criminals, modern-day pirates, and other scoundrels over a legendary treasure.

Get Your Ship Together

Assemble a one-of-a-kind crew while upgrading your ship as you explore the open sea and forge your legend in the cannon fire of foes, unexpected friendships, and immense riches made along the way. When an enemy pirate ship catches you in their sights, an exhilarating real-time cannon battle breaks out. Quickly maneuver into position while avoiding fire, then deliver devastating damage to board the enemy ship and take down the captain in all-out crew vs. crew brawls. Conquer the seas, discover hidden islands and acquire loads of loot like a true yakuza pirate!

Kick Arrrss With Creative Combat

Dynamically switch between the “Mad Dog” and “Pirate” fighting styles to mix-up attacks and deliver explosive combos, juggles, and aerial takedowns that reward your creativity with over-the-top action. With “Mad Dog” style, utilize speed, agility, and flair to deliver precise yet powerful blows that stun your enemies into submission. Or make enemies walk the plank with the “Pirate” style that has you dual-wielding short swords and deploying tricky pirate tools to kick some serious booty.

■ Story

After losing his memory, Goro Majima, a once-feared legend in the yakuza world, sets sail in search of treasure. Half a year ago teaming up with Kiryu for a massive battle in the Millenium Tower, Goro Majima washes up with the wreckage of a boat on the shore of a remote, sparsely populated island. With no memories—not even his own name—Majima joins forces with Noah, the young islander who saved his life, and embarks on a search for clues to his forgotten past. However, what waits for them is a powder-keg world where scoundrels vie for a legendary treasure.

■ Cast

Goro Majima (voiced by Hidenari Ugaki)

Patriarch of the former Tojo Clan’s Majima Family.

An ex-yakuza with no memories who has washed ashore on a remote island.

Noah Rich (voiced by First Summer Uika)

Local boy on Rich Island.

A youth who dreams of the outside world, hoping to leave the confines of Rich Island.

Jason Rich (voiced by Kenji Matsuda)

Bar Owner on Rich Island and Noah’s father.

A former treasure hunter who, despite being a drunkard, is still a true sea dog.

Masaru Fujita (voiced by Ryuji Akiyama (Robert))

Bodyguard and ship cook.

A skilled chef for hire who’s sailed the seas on a long line of pirate ships.

Teruhiko Shigaki (voiced by Munetaka Aoki)

Patriarch of the former Tojo Clan’s Shigaki family.

An ex-yakuza with no memories who has washed ashore on a remote island.

Rodriguez (voiced by Ayumi Tanida)

Palekana disciple.

A burly warrior who guards Nele Island, Palekana’s holy site, with his massive sword.

Mortimer (voiced by Shunsuke Daitoh)

Head of the Mortimer Armada.

A handsome pirate with a charismatic persona who inspires fervor in the lowlifes around him.

Goro (voiced by ???)

Noah’s little friend.

An adorable little cat (?) that Noah found on Rich Island.

■ Battle

Push Combat to the Extreme with Two Battle Styles

In addition to his signature Mad Dog style, which is all about speed, Majima can also use his new Sea Dog style to wield a cutlass and other buccaneer gear. Pick the style that works for you to kick, pummel, and slash your way through the filthy bilge rats who stand in your way!

■ Adventure

Go wild and unleash chaos around the waters of Hawaii as Goro Majima!

Rich Island

A remote island that an amnesiac Goro Majima washes up on. Noah and his family are some of the island’s few inhabitants. Despite fishing being the mainstay of the local economy, pirates reminiscent of the Age of Discovery can be inexplicably seen sauntering around.

Madlantis

A secret island where multiple criminal organizations coexist. In a cave on the island hides a sprawling pleasure district built around a fleet of massive tankers. The Pirates’ Coliseum, a hub where pirates constantly engage in naval battles, is here.

Nele Island

A holy site of Palekana, a long-standing religious group based in Hawaii. The Haku, the most fervent believers of Palekana, inhabit the island. The island is notably larger than Rich Island and has a proper harbor.

Hawaii

One of the world’s most famous tourist destinations. You can learn a lot about Hawaii from the owner of a bar called Revolve in Honolulu City.

■ Early Purchase Bonus

Ichiban Pirate Crew Set

Crew Member: Ichiban Kasuga

Backup Crew: Nancy

Ichiban Special Outfit Set

Kasuga Outfit (Infinite Wealth)

Kasuga Outfit (Yakuza: Like a Dragon)

■ Game Editions

Standard Edition (physical / digital) – $59.99 / £54.99 / €59.99 / 6,930 yen

A copy of Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii

Deluxe Edition (digital) – $74.99 / £64.99 / €74.99 / 8,690 yen

A copy of Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii

Downloadable content

Legendary Pirate Crew Pack – Have Kazuma Kiryu, Daigo Dojima, and other fan-favorite Like a Dragon characters become shipmates with the Goro Pirates!

Legendary Outfit Pack – Give Majima more outfits to wear, including a T-shirt exclusively designed for this title and the iconic get-ups sported by yakuza legends such as Kazuma Kiryu and Taiga Saejima.

Ship Customization Pack – Personalize the appearance of your pirate ship, the Goromaru! Choose from designs based on popular characters from the franchise, including Kazuma Kiryu and Ichiban Kasuga.

Extra Karaoke and CD Pack – Add the Majima Construction Song to karaoke and gain the option to play karaoke staples while exploring.

Complete Box (Japan / Asia) (physical) – 19,800 yen

A copy of Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii

Goro Majima Pop-Up Pirate Jr.

Goro Majima Eyepatch

Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii acrylic art board (A4 size)

Art book

Downloadable content

Legendary Pirate Crew Pack – Have Kazuma Kiryu, Daigo Dojima, and other fan-favorite Like a Dragon characters become shipmates with the Goro Pirates!

Legendary Outfit Pack – Give Majima more outfits to wear, including a T-shirt exclusively designed for this title and the iconic get-ups sported by yakuza legends such as Kazuma Kiryu and Taiga Saejima.

Ship Customization Pack – Personalize the appearance of your pirate ship, the Goromaru! Choose from designs based on popular characters from the franchise, including Kazuma Kiryu and Ichiban Kasuga.

Extra Karaoke and CD Pack – Add the Majima Construction Song to karaoke and gain the option to play karaoke staples while exploring.

Watch the announcement trailer, battle gameplay, and reveal event archive below. View the first screenshots at the gallery. Visit the official website here: English / English (Asia) / here.

Announce Trailer

English

Japanese

Battle Gameplay

English

Japanese

RGG Summit 2024

English

Japanese

[magnusbae]

I don't even know how to describe the insanity of accidentally discussing the concept of minions in dreams, or worse, minions being escaped dreams or nightmares who REJOICE and scream in delight when Dream returns, rushing over and hugging his legs shouting "Boss!!" and "It's BOSS" and "Boss LA RETURNA" or some other form of gibberish.

(@cuubism I blame you, tbh)

[alicedrawslesmis]

(sorry this is from a week ago but) Wait, what's going on right now that's complicated with Amazonian farmers' land rights?

Not farmers, indigenous people

See, recently they put a new law through congress that severely reduces indigenous land to the borders established during the late dictatorship, or immediately post-dictatorship, in 1988. An absolute joke of a border that was dreamed up by some military assholes. People in america may recognize this type of society from the times of westward expansion and think this is a thing of the past because for you guys it is. But here it is a reality. Murder is rampant. The reach of the law is incredibly limited. Government is just too weak and landowners basically run things. THAT'S WHY it's so important to donate directly to the native peoples instead of random NGOs because native people are fucking there and the more power they hold in the land the safer the land will be from agroindustrial expansion.

Well the law was vetoed by the the president and the Supremo Tribunal Federal, aka supreme federal court, labeled it as unconstitutional. Which it is, because our 1988 constitution describes native american land rights in some of its first articles. We thought this would be it for the law

But then the senate (that already overrepresents landowners in rural states) just went along and approved it anyway. I had no idea they could approve something unconstitutional. The progressives and particularly the socialists are fighting this in court. But it happens that for now the legal border is the severely reduced version.

Doesn't mean they'll just give up, because as it happens we don't have any stand your ground laws so even if you own a piece of land, you cannot legally speaking just shoot everyone there. Or attack or threaten them in any way. They'll just have long legal battles individually for the rights to occupy land based on use. Also the Xingu national park, the largest preserved land of the Amazon described as 'larger than Belgium', is being encroached by huge farms that are poisoning their water supply. The border is Visible. I'll try to find video of it but essentially you have a forest and a desert separated by a strict line.

Just last week in the south of Bahia (not the Amazon, let me explain more about the Amazon situation in a bit) Hãhãhãe leadership Nega Muniz Pataxó was shot and killed by an armed militia group that invaded and occupied the Caramuru territory.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by SOMOS PATAXÓ HÃHÃHÃE (@somoshahahai)

The situation in the Amazon, specifically the yanomami territory in Roraima our northernmost state, aka deep forest, is more dire than average given difficulty of access, sheer size, and government abandonment. It's a place that depends on government aid for medicine. It's land that is being systematically invaded by gold miners, pandemic, toxins from nearby farmlands, wood extraction etc. (wood extration is rampant everywhere tho). Early 2023 saw a massive federal government operation by now president Lula to empty the mines and try to look for where funding comes from. Yanomami land is still being invaded to this day, the struggle is ongoing.

The yanomamis need support right now more than any other. Last year saw a massive heat wave that (well, one, caused a girl named Ana Clara Machado to die during the Taylor Swift concert. This is unrelated but I feel like not enough foreign media covered this, Taylor even lied about it as well.) dried up a lot of rivers, killed a LOT of fresh water animals including an unprecedented amount of pink dolphins. Access that was already hard became damn near impossible without boats. I cannot overstate how many pink dolphins were found dead.

Another technique that landowners use to clear space for farms is to just set things on fire and then occupy the empty land, which they legally can do to land that was naturally burned in a forest fire. It happened that Pantanal, another national park of swampland, was massively devastated by fires last year too

this article is from 2020, the year that the worst fire happened, but in 2023 there was another one. It's been happening yearly now due to a) deliberate action and b) climate change aggravation.

And this is not nearly all. Just off the top of my head. If you speak portuguese I recommend following the APIB or the COIAB on instagram to keep up with the news. The FUNAI is the government branch of indigenous organization, but it's not generally that well liked. Still.

[bakugotrashpanda]

Vampire!Bakugou x Fem!Reader Word count: 3.5k

All Souls Trilogy AU (if you squint)

!!: blood, angst

Your wish is his command… except for one thing.

Ornate metal lattice digs into Bakugou’s hands as he listens to your councilors inform you of the situation at hand. Inform. That’s a joke. More like condescend or manipulate. If he was actually allowed in the room as opposed to hiding behind the equivalent of a confessional, they wouldn’t treat you like that. 

Bronze creaks under his hand. Conversation that, to normal human ears, would be muffled by a red curtain pauses. You dismiss the sound. The conversation continues. 

“Patience,” your voice finds his ears. A futile command meant for him. But he waits. And when the simpering men leave your court, he finally emerges. Male stench hangs in the room. God, he hates these meetings. You can’t smell it, but Bakugou can’t help but pick up the underlying notes of ambition, hatred, lust. He could break their necks at the drop of a hat.

If you ordered it, he’d do anything.

“Well?” you sigh, “You heard them. The armada will be at our port in three days. Our fleet is battered. We wouldn’t be able to hold them off.”

Bakugou walks beside your chair and looks down at you. It was built for your grandfather. Big man, big ego, big dreams. Big shoes to fill. In comparison, you look like a child slumped at the dinner table waiting to be allowed to leave. 

“And they want you to lock the capital,” he sneers, “Leaving the masses — your people — the fend for themselves.” They want to stay safe in their cushy houses, and they currently do while the average person suffers.

A grim smile twists your lovely features. Bakugou longs to see your natural smile as opposed to this mockery of it. Oh how war hardens even the softest of hearts.

“So, my Shadow,” you look up at him now, “What are my other options?”

Bakugou clenches a fist at his side. There’s nothing more in the world he wants than to reach out and cup your cheek and memorize the glimmer of hope hiding in your eyes. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, your intoxicating scent causing his heart to beat once. Exhaling, he rolls his shoulders before answering you. “The witches are eager to prove themselves. Become useful in your eyes.”

“They want protection from the masses.” 

Bakugou holds back a smirk. Of course you’d read between the lines. Nothing is given for free. “I advise you use them.”

“And then what? Offer them carte blanche?” you scoff. “If one more zealot cries foul again I’ll have an uprising worse than what my father faced.” You wince. You may try to forget the way he was dragged from the castle and beheaded and your shaky rise to power – eyes of the masses hungry for bloodshed, but he remembers it as vividly as yesterday. You were barely a woman, fear and a shattered innocence filled you to the core as you swore before all the powers that be to protect your realms. 

And Bakugou silently promised to guide you better than he had your father and his father before him.

“You’ll think of something.”

“What use are you then if you don’t aid your queen?” Your tongue and eyes are sharp and turned on him. “You will not make me a vampire such as yourself and grant me the powers I need to stabilize my kingdom. You tease solutions, but offer nothing more than that.” Bakugou watches you stand, your face hardening into an impassive mask. “The witches worry that I will turn my back on them, but perhaps it is the vampires who will lose favor.”

Pacing back and forth, you watch him, waiting for any reaction — something you can use to move the argument along. 

But all he gives you is a blank look. He can’t say anything – no matter how much he wants to. In truth, he has no more power than your advisors who bow their heads with a ‘yes, Your Majesty’ and say what you want to hear in an attempt to curry favor for themselves. 

Your shoulders slump when it’s clear he’s not going to take the bait.  “I have a kingdom to protect and ensure that we will see better days. I swore an oath before all the gods that I would do this,” your jaw juts out stubbornly. “I still have no consort and no heir. Everything will fall to chaos. Will you really deny your queen the ability to ensure there is a future for my people?”

Bakugou falls into a wide stance and clasps his hands behind his back. He’s heard this argument time and time again. No doubt your stubbornness will hold strong this time too. “I told your father and your father’s father the same thing: no. We do not lead in human politics.”

“Yet you’ll meddle.”

Bakugou sighs. He’ll respond that yes, creatures will meddle – who wouldn’t? You’ll spew more stories meant to guilt trip him. He’ll hold fast in his position that you will not be made a vampire. You’ll insinuate that if he won’t do it, you’ll find someone who will. His heart will beat again, and he’ll snarl that whatever vampire you find would sooner kill you than turn you. You’ll storm away. Nothing will be resolved. 

If he tries a different approach, maybe he can avoid what will surely be a weeklong headache. “My Queen,” he grits out. Fuck these insufferable games he must play in order to speak his mind. “Permission to speak freely?”

Back when he was reborn there was no need to ask to speak. He and his brethren did what they wanted without consequence. Lands were conquered on whims, the blood flowed freely. And now? He’s reduced to acting like one of the humans who advises you.

You nod. How generous.

“If I made you what I am,” he says silkily, “I would have your kingdom at my mercy. I could order you to do my bidding, and you would not be able to deny me. As a vampire you wouldn’t have the heir you so desperately want. I would ruin you.” He stalks towards you, only a hint of the predator within. To your credit, you stand your ground and appear unimpressed — your scent, however, betrays you. “In the time it would take for you to control your blood thirst, your people that you so valiantly want to protect would all be dead.”

He bends at the waist so your faces are even. Smiling, he adds on, “And that’s if you don’t kill them all yourself.” With a flourish, he bows and stalks towards the door. He doesn’t care that you’re fuming at his breach in etiquette. 

Bakugou isn’t summoned for more than a week. That whole time he does what he does best: stick to the shadows. To say you’re irritated is an understatement. The only time you do call upon him is to send him on an errand worthy of a human. Maybe it’s your form of punishment – to remind him of what you are.

But he’s addicted to you and can’t stay away. Many nights he finds himself spending time with the gargoyles lining the roof outside your window. 

He’s late tonight — not that sitting outside your chambers has a set time. A questioning took longer than he expected, and had extra clean up to deal with. Bakugou settles in at his usual spot and listens. Normal nightly ambience quickly filters away. All he wants to hear is you. 

Elevated heartbeat. Rapid breathing. Excitement. Bakugou turns his head away from your window. This isn’t the first time he’s heard you… enjoy yourself. But it’s a moment when you think you’re alone, so he does his best to give you privacy. He’s about to leave his hiding spot outside your window when he hears another faint heartbeat. Jealousy shoots through him. His hold on the nearest statue cracks the stone. Pebbles fall to the ground stories below. Who would you possibly have there with you?

About to break one of his own self-imposed rules and peek into your chambers, he’s blindsided by a scent.

Hatred.

It assaults his senses. A putrid scent wraps around his nose. It’s cloying, stinging his nose and pricking his eyes.

You’re not alone. But you’re not enjoying yourself either. No, if his senses are anything to go off of, there’s someone in your chambers with you who intends to do you harm.

Flashes of green cloud his vision. A past he swore he left behind eons ago. 

A mumbling. Yours? 

Bakugou can’t wait. He dives into the room and pinpoints the stench. It’s reflex at this point – sharpened claws embed into flesh. Warmth trickles down his fingers. He’s probably the only one who can hear the final exhale from the human hidden behind thick curtains in your room. Iron hitting the floor and bouncing around before coming to rest ricochets in his ears. 

You inhale sharply and sit up in your bed. Even in your anger and silence with him, you call for Bakugou – albeit at a whisper. Bakugou emerges from the curtain, blood drips down his hand in the moonlight. Your eyes fixate on the dark liquid. He sniffs it, but disdain taints it. There’s no point in savoring it, or even drinking it.

And then it hits him.

The blood curdling scream ripped from your lungs.

Soldiers rush into the room, swords drawn. Your blood spikes. There’s no way you’re in any shape to issue orders. Bakugou takes over, barking out demands to round up your advisors. Little do you know, but the human who had planned on destroying you was one of the people you trusted most – outside of him. 

You’re still in shock – in bed staring dumbfounded as the chaos in your bedchambers winds down. Bakugou aches to hold you close, make promises that nothing like this will happen again. But he can’t. 

Could he even handle a rejection from you? Or would he snap? It wouldn’t be the first time.

No, it’s better if he excuses himself first.

“Katuski, please, stay.”

Against his better judgment, his feet stumble to a stop and he stares at the door in front of him. Does he stay? Is it wise?

He turns. Faces you for the first time since you cast him out of your council chambers. For the first time since your father’s death, you look your age. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, but you’ve made a valiant effort to keep your head held high despite all the troubles and tribulations thrown your way. Now though, in a bed that dwarfs you, you look more like yourself and less like the young queen he serves.

Bakugou tentatively sits on the edge of your bed. You play with a stray thread from the enormous cover. He watches you wind and unwind it around your finger. It’s only when it snaps completely that you speak.

“He… I… I trusted him. And he wanted to kill me.” Bakugou remains silent. He watches you process the moment. Your brows push together and pull apart as sadness overtakes you. “I trusted him. He advised me. And he wanted me dead.”

Visions of the past swim in his eyes. He wanted me dead. A deep, garbled voice pleads with him. For what? Desperation. Blood. Death.

“He can’t hurt you.” Bakugou masks the hollowness of his voice with a bow of his head. “I am your faithful servant, now and always.”

“Would he be able to kill me if I were a creature like you?”

Not again. He’s not ready for another argument. You’re only just beginning to talk to him again. “Not in the way he wanted.” It’s not impossible, but vampires are much harder to kill than mere mortals.

“Katsuki, I’m begging.” Warm fingers grasp his forearm. “Change me. Make me one of you.”

It would be so easy. “I am bound by the laws created by and for creatures. I can’t. And if I was able to, I wouldn’t.” 

Your mouth opens, an objection on your tongue. He speaks quickly, cutting off a protest he’s heard countless times before. “I don’t have many regrets – I can count them on one hand.” A pair of eyes, pleading. A pair of emeralds that haunt him when he somehow sleeps. Shiny. Reflective. Crying? Blood everywhere. A life too soon extinguished. A love lost. All his fault. “I turned someone I thought I loved. I was ready to spend the rest of eternity with a mate.” It ended with a body, a broken heart, and a promise never to repeat that mistake.

“I’m not like her, I promise.” 

“No, you’re not like him,” Bakugou snaps. How many times does he have to say it? “But I won’t do it, no matter how much I love you.”

The silence hangs heavy in the room. You sit back. The cavernous distance between your bodies makes his fingers itch.

Maybe you didn’t hear him. Maybe you’ll think he said something else. Maybe-

“Love?”

He curses himself. No, of course you heard, and now one of his secrets is out there. There’s no point in denying it. You’ll never let it drop. And… if he messes up now, he’ll have plenty of chances in the future to make it right. “I’ve always loved you. I always find you, not matter how far I have to go or how far you rise or fall in life.”

“You’ve… found me. Before.” Confusion turns to awe as realization washes over you. There are hushed whispers in religions about reincarnation, but very few have actually believed it.

“And I’ll find you again in your next life.”

“You wouldn’t have to find me again; you could have me now.”

“Don’t say that!” Bakugou’s roar echoes throughout the chamber.

“I’m not scared of you.” Defiance. Just like him. His other love. Only back then, Bakugou believed his words. 

“You should be. I’m a monster.” He killed the one he loved. All because he was… afraid of being alone. What good is eternity if you can’t spend it with anyone? “I can hear your blood singing beneath your skin. On the best of days I hang on to my sanity by a thread.”

“What kind of life is that?”

“One I choose for myself.”

Your lips press together. Every incarnation of you never lets it drop. “What’s holding you back?” Maybe… just this once… “Katsuki… talk to me.”

“No. It doesn’t concern you.” He can’t. 

You straighten up and arch an eyebrow. “Are you disobeying an order from your queen?”

He smirks. “Are you my queen now instead of the woman I covet most?”

Hesitation overtakes the haughty demeanor on your face. “I can be both.”

“Not to me.”

You sigh. A wry grin replaces the fake demeanor you save for your court. “Then tell me, the woman who wants to spend her whole life with you. What happened?”

He failed. That’s what happened. It was much like this night; an assassination attempt, only the assassin succeeded. And as the love of his life lay in Bakugou’s arms dying, Bakugou offered him a choice. And who can refuse the chance to live forever?

Bakugou licks his lips. How much should he tell you? Would you be jealous after hearing it all? “He was the chieftain,” he starts slowly. “He shouldn’t have been though. It was a different time. Politics… it was all brutal strength. When I heard there was a chief that couldn’t protect his people, I went to him with the intention of wiping him and his people off the face of the earth.”

He can remember the scent of fresh dirt after the rain. The mud squelching beneath his war horse’s hooves. People watched him warily as he rode into town. A green haired man emerged from the largest structure. Innocence. 

“But you didn’t?” 

“I didn’t,” he nods. “I saw how he led without an iron fist. At first it intrigued me. And then the more I watched, the more I wanted to protect him. He knew what I was and he welcomed me. Everyone did. The peacefulness messed with me. First time in eons I’d felt that way. But it didn’t last, and I couldn’t protect him. He was wounded and I offered him a chance to stay with me. Forever.”

His blood tasted sweet. It was laced with love and hope, none of the desperation that usually follows death. 

“Did he take it?”

“He did. But it wasn’t successful.” Soft emerald eyes woke with a hardness Bakugou saw when he looked at his reflection. An unending hunger. A craving. A need for violence. “He woke with an uncontrollable bloodlust. He slaughtered everyone in his care. But he wasn’t done there. He ran. There was destruction wherever he went. My father…” Bakugou swallows thickly. He remembers his father riding over the hilltop. From across the field of carnage, Bakugou heard him sigh before turning away. “My step-father. He was disappointed in me. I would’ve preferred him being angry. But he calmly told me to clean up my mess. I…”

In the end, Bakugou caught him. It had to be done. I lo- There was peace on his face when Bakugou removed his heart from his chest. Acrid smoke filled Bakugou’s lungs as the body burned. And for a split second, he considered walking into the blazing pyre as well.

“I killed him in the end. I had to.” Bakugou studies his hands. How much blood did he have on them? “I spent centuries trying to find him again. He never resurfaced.”

“Maybe he-”

“No. You haven’t seen it. There are always similarities.” Bakugou studies you for a moment. Sometimes your hair changes. Sometimes you’re shorter than normal. Once it was your eyes, and that took him off guard once he realized it was you. “You, for example, are always in power whether you want it or not. You’re headstrong and stubborn as a mule. You don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. And your smile. I always recognize your smile. He’s gone. Forever. Turning him must’ve corrupted his soul.”

Your lips form a thin line as grim realization sets in. “That’s why you won’t turn me.”

“I won’t lose you too. At least this way I know that I can search to the ends of the earth and I’ll find you again.” Even if it’s a painful existence.

“Katsuki.” Your hand finds his cheek. Warmth floods his skin, just like it did before his rebirth. His eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation. “You may not make me one of you, but I give myself to you, and no other.” Bakugou’s eyes pinch tight. He’s heard those words before. They always spell your downfall. If he doesn’t push you away, there will be no heir to the throne. There will be no victory in the war. Your kingdom will collapse.

And yet…

He’s never had the willpower to say no before.

He cups your cheek. Your skin thrums beneath his touch. The siren’s call from your blood grows deafeningly loud. His lips graze over yours, barely skimming their surface, but his senses explode.

“Mine,” he whispers huskily, “Forever.” Sealing your fate in this life with a searing kiss, he moves his way down to the soft base of your neck. Teeth pierce skin. Your gasp is music to his ears. Your essence coats his tongue

It’s not enough to kill, nor is it enough to turn you, but it is enough to mark you as his territory for all other creatures. 

They’ll know that you’re in league with a vampire, and they’ll grow suspicious of you and your word – turn on you when you least expect it.  

Just like they have before.

Maybe next time – in your next life – he can stop himself or finally give in to your wishes and turn you.

But for this lifetime, you’re his.

—Modern day—

Bakugou stares out over the city. From the top floor, he can hardly see the people below. It’s hardly the tallest skyscraper, but he and his kind have had to adapt — be more… incognito. Gone are the days of raising hell and taking over. No, much to his chagrin, in this human dominated society, Bakugou has to pretend to be like them. 

He glances at the framed magazine cover behind a grandiose oak desk. It’s been enlarged – at least three feet tall. You stand front and center in a smart blazer, arms crossed. Your eyes sear the viewer as if daring them to challenge you. The headline is as bold as you: New Queen of Philanthropy? Meet the latest woman to join the Top 100 Most Powerful People.

The boardroom door silently opens and clicks shut behind him. An intoxicating scent wraps around him, teasing his senses. And for a moment, he allows himself to get lost in it. Maybe this time will be different.

He spins on his heel and extends a hand to you. “Katsuki Bakugou, your father’s chief financial officer.” His heart gives a single beat as his skin makes contact with yours. 

“I’ve heard all about you, Mr. Bakugou,” you reply and pointedly stare at the icy handshake. “They call you my father’s shadow; always working in the background, getting him the information he needed, never in the public eye.”

“Please, call me Katsuki,” he grins wolfishly. “I look forward to serving you.”

Images used in banner from unsplash.

[naisilla]

The Emperor's New Muse Part .7

Odyssey Kayn x Reader

content: Yasuo takes the crew out for Karaoke, Someone else is also there...

It has been a while since you last saw the Ordinal Kayn. You weren't sure whether to feel grateful or uneasy about it. At every stop on a new planet, you would double check the ship's radar or constantly look over your shoulder when on foot.

In the meantime, the Morningstar has been going on adventurous side quests across the galaxy. From monster hunting to retrieving ancient artifacts, you were beginning to get used to the life of a space pirate.

Yet despite the air of normalcy, there was still the underlying threat of Kayn and the Demaxian empire. Wherever the Ordinal was, you knew he was hunting you down and he would never stop until he found you.

Kayn was a major threat to the universe, He was a brutal, merciless, and an insane Ordinal. But what really made him dangerous was that he was both insane AND intelligent.

Of course he was, the man was a military tactician before ascending to Ordinal status. Making him THE final boss of this endgame.

It was too risky to confront Kayn in any way. There had to be another way to resolve this, surely there was something or someone that could effortlessly stop Kayn in his path. Wait. There was someone.

"What if we went straight to the King to stop Kayn." You abruptly blurt out, The entire room goes silent at the sound of your proposition.

"And I thought I was crazy" Jinx remarks before returning to "Practise" her medical training on Malphite...with a blowtorch.

Yasuo chuckles and nods. "There's no way the King is going to listen to some space pirate. He's too self-absorbed and cowardly to ever step into the fray himself. Haven't you forgotten that I'm a wanted man for murder?"

"We're all wanted! In the eyes of the Empire, we are all criminals on the run!" You turn to look at Sona who remains quiet, her eyes look apologetic.

"Sona, you must agree, right? We should at least try mediating first."

The Templar solemnly shakes her head. "King Jarvan has allowed the empire to become a brutal force, it is by his decree that their expansionist ways continue. It is because of his actions I believe he is inconsolable and unreasonable."

"Why does (y/n) care about being diplomatic anyway? I thought you were all about destroying the empire." Malphite nods at Jinx's point.

"(y/n) don't want empire destroyed now?"

Why did you suddenly change anyway? What has made you want to be more peaceful all of a sudden? Did you care about the empire now?

HA! How foolish, you couldn't just redeem the empire by having a heart to heart with the King. Sona was right, if Kayn was doing all of this while being the faithful right hand man to the King then it was clear that Jarvan must be as evil as his Ordinal.

But what if you were able to change the empires ways? You always dreamed of being a revolutionary icon, right? Perhaps instead of the destructive vigilante tearing down the empire by its foundations, you could be something more noble.

Well, you could only dream about such fantasies.

For the following days, your mind constantly pondered on how this would all end. The rest of the Morningstar could not agree with which tactic to take when confronting Kayn, but the longer you all argued the closer you were to being caught vulnerable and unprepared.

After another week of quests and no sign of the locus armada on your trail, Yasuo felt it was safe enough to treat the team to something special.

Jinx had just landed the ship on Kómmatos, a major resort planet well known for its gambling, shopping, fine dining, entertainment, and nightlife.

Yasuo leads the team off the ship and into the city. The city streets are bustling with activity, the atmosphere is electric and brimming with a sense of anticipation as people gather around to indulge in various entertainment options.

"Where are we going?" you ask, taking notice of how familiar Yasuo, Jinx, and Malphite seem to be with the area.

"Oh you're going to love it" Jinx exclaims, beaming at you as she skips alongside Yasuo who also can't help but smile. They continue to lead you further into the city.

"...A Karaoke bar?" You look up at the building titled "K-Zone''. Malphite and Jinx nod their heads vigorously with wide smiles, like excited children.

"Isn't it great?"

"Uh yeah I guess if that's what you enjoy. I don't really sing-"

"Oh come onnnnn" Jinx insists grabbing your arm as she drags you inside.

So this was Yasuo's idea of recreational activities. You wouldn't put it past him if he proposed singing anime songs. But maybe doing something that's both fun and harmless would put your mind at ease. Even if you still thought the fate of the universe should be the main priority.

You had never been to such a place before, the idea of entertainment was foreign to you back in Zaun. Karaoke? Arcade games? The most fun you had back home was finishing your shift as a janitor early.

Yasuo had rented the crew a private room, so at least you wouldn't have to sing in front of strangers. Not that you planned on singing at all.

Jinx was eager to go first, dashing to the machine so she could have first pick of music. Literally, no one was racing her.

She grabs the mic and hands the other one to Malphite as a pop punk tune begins to play. You take a seat on the couch with Yasuo as Jinx goes first.

"Come and Join me~

Wanna play~

But I might shoot you, in the face- HEY!" Jinx's singing is halted as the song immediately cuts off. The culprit gives Jinx a silent glare, Sona is clearly not pleased with the tone of the lyrics.

Jinx glares back and immaturely sticks out her tongue while crossing her arms. "Well, I don't see you making an effort to sing." Sona rolls her eyes and takes a look at the Karaoke machine curiously scrolling through a few titles. Her face grimaced at some of the vulgar song titles before selecting a song, taking the mic from Jinx, and bringing it to Yasuo.

With a soft smile, Yasuo takes the mic and looks at the screen as "Burning Bright" begins to play. What could've been a cute moment was instantly ruined by the sound that escaped Yasuo's mouth.

Never had you experienced your body shrink into itself as a visceral reaction to the flat tone of Yasuo's singing. Bro had no harmony in his voice, just a painful dissonance that made your insides coil. At least you felt a little better about your own singing voice now. Sona didn't take long to put an end to Yasuo's turn either.

"Alright rookie you're up!" Jinx says as Sona hands you the mic. Ok whatever little confidence Yasuo had given you instantly evaporated. "Uhh actually I think it's Sona's turn". Sona crosses her arms and shoots you a sassy look. Ok so that was a stupid excuse.

Sona selects a song for you and you wait in anticipation for the monitor to load the lyrics. That's when some generic early 2000's pop beat comes on and your stomach drops as the first verse of the song loads up. "THIS IS A STUPID SONG!"

"DO IT" Jinx urges you, Malphite chants along with her and Yasuo smirks in amusement as the intro counts down for you. Panicked you lock in place and shakily sing out the first verse, your face feeling hot from the embarrassment.

"Sweet little bumblebee

I know what you want from me

Doo-bi-doo-bi, doo-da-da

Doo-bi-doo-bi, doo-da-da

Sweet little bumblebee

More than just a fanta-AAAAH!" You shriek midsentence as Jinx suddenly begins to torture you but poking and tickling your sides. You helplessly let out squeals as Jinx relentlessly attacks you to the other's amusement forcing you to sing the entire song.

With your pride squashed you shamefully walk back to the couch, relieved your turn is finally over.

Sona continues to explore the Karaoke machine with curiosity, her golden eyes sparkle with wonder when she discovers a button titled 'DJ mode'. After pressing it a new interface pops up on the screen that allows the user to create beats using music samples, drum kits, and a synth keyboard.

You all watched intrigued as Sona began to test it out, layering beats of samples until the Templar was able to create a loop that actually sounded good.

"Yooooo DJ SONA in da house!" Jinx cheers and the rest of you join in chanting "DJ SONA". Turns out Karaoke was fun.

After having your second turn you needed to use the bathroom, you excused yourself from the party and left your room to explore the rest of the place on a quest to find a bathroom. The first part was easy as you eventually found the restroom, it was finding your way back that ended up being a problem.

Maybe you should've asked Jinx to come with you because you were aimlessly wandering through the halls trying to find which karaoke room was yours. You already had made the mistake of walking into the wrong room twice, one being extra awkward as you were sure what the patrons were doing inside was more suitable for a hotel room...

You had messaged the others letting them know you were fine just lost, they responded by letting you know that they left their door open so you could avoid any more awkward encounters. You were a big girl you could figure this out, just simply keep walking around until you got your bearings.

As you passed by the many karaoke rooms you were able to hear the muffled music blasting from each of them. You were doing your best to avoid peeking through the door windows when one room in particular made you pause.

Your steps came to a complete stop, and your eyebrows raised as you heard the faint hint of a familiar voice coming from this room at the far end of the hallway. After several short seconds, you began making your way towards the door. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you slowly pressed your ear up against the doorway.

It was hard to hear over the pop music that blasted behind the door but you had to make sure. So you leaned harder against the wall forcing your ear to flatten against it in hopes of hearing better. Instead, the door gives way and you fall into the room collapsing to the floor.

You were lucky enough that the loud music covered the sound of your clumsy entrance, however, you were unfortunately right about who you suspected was in that room. Towering above, with his back faced towards you stood the very Ordinal you had been avoiding all this time.

Which was more shocking? The odds that Kayn was here or the fact that the Ordinal was a good singer? The absurdity vanishes immediately when Kayn snaps his head towards you. An awkward silence hung in the air, you stared up at him from your pitiful position on the floor and he stared back one hand holding Rhaast and the other holding a microphone.

The tips of his ears and cheeks burned in a pink blush from either drinking or the embarrassment of being caught. You exchanged several awkward moments of eye contact, his single green eye staring into yours. You still remained on the floor, your mind racing for what to do. Should you deescalate the situation with a distracting, witty line? Or do you just take him out while he's caught off guard?

Take him out.

From your flattened position on the floor, you spin yourself and knock Kayn down with a sweeping kick. That was twice you've caught him off guard now. While Kayn is stunned you scramble up off the floor. Without missing a beat he stands back on his feet revealing an amused grin on his face. His green eye gleams with a dangerous rage.

"The crew of the Moningstar! Here and ready to die!"

Kayn immediately swings Rhaast at you, the blade missing as you dodge, lodging itself into the adjacent wall. With a hefty wrench Kayn pulls the scythe free before slashing at you again and again. You jump back almost slipping on the second dodge. Kayn had gotten a lot faster since you had last seen him.

Immediately Kayn goes back in to attack, striking at you downwards. The blades reach managing to get a good cut down your collar, effectively damaging you and making you slower. Great now you had to be extra cautious, you intensely stared at Kayn ready to anticipate his next move.

Kayn doesn't waste another moment before dashing toward you, slashing at you while spinning before returning to attacking with basic strikes. You barely managed to avoid being hit, each time your dodges slipping with your reaction time.

"Let's get you some new scars." Kayn snides.

"Oh, please, spare me the cliché threats. If you want to impress me, come up with something original. But I guess creativity isn't your strong suit, just like your fashion sense."

"She's right. An empire that spans galaxies. And you still can't afford a decent haircut."

"Oh shut it Rhaast not you too." Kayn barks.

You take this brief moment to contact the others using the holo communicator watch Yasuo had gifted you. Your fingers fumbled with haste as you typed out the most typo-ridden emergency message.

(Y/N):"Kagn is her escaoe now Ill gey otu ASAP"

You weren't even sure you pressed send when another attack from Kayn knocked you back, the force slamming your body against the wall behind you. A message from Yasuo blinks on your watch's face.

Yasuo: "???"

Even glancing at your holo watch proved to be a bad move as Rhaast's blade lodges into the wall, his blade just missing your neck.

"Drag me across her throat! I want to hear her scream!"

Kayn pulls the scythe back continuously attempting to stab you, each thrust scarcely missing as you elude him by maneuvering just fast enough to escape Rhaast.

Incoming Call Yasuo ...

You accepted the call, not daring to take your eyes off the Ordinal. "(Y/N)? Is everything ok? You've taken a while to come back and your message-"

"Yasuo get everyone and get out immediately."

"What's going on?"

Kayn continues to attack you relentlessly, bringing the scythe down over and over again chasing you around the Karaoke room as the pop music continues to blast from the subwoofers.

"Kayn is here, we need to get out now"

You dodge another reaping slash.

"Where are you!? I'm coming right now-"

"No Yasuo! we've already gone over this, now is especially not the time! Just get everyone to the ship."

Kayn snatches your wrist, bringing the holo watch to his face.

"Captain Yasuo what's the rush? We can make a game of it. You try to survive..."

"And we'll slice you in half."

You had managed to break free from Kayn's grip and made a run for it, the goal was to make it to the Morningstar and take off before Kayn could summon his fleet to take you all down.

"Don't run! I hate that!" Kayn's growls.

Clutching your injured torso, you limped down the hallways of the Karaoke center as fast as your legs could drag you. But Kayn was much faster, he was barely stunned after you somehow kicked him off of you and you could already hear him tearing his way toward you.

You had to slow him down, there was no way you were outrunning the Ordinal this time. Your eyes catch the stairway door and you run toward it, ripping the door open and throwing yourself inside before slamming the door behind you.

The sound of Kayn gaining on you makes you jump into action, sliding the lock and running down the stairway. Kayn would still be able to kick down the lock but at least it would give you some time to get away from him.

"Boo".

You involuntarily let out a scream as Kayn whispered next to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. You turn to look at him, adrenaline pumping through your veins and the blood dripping from your cut.

To your horror Kayn was right behind you, somehow getting past your barricade without even touching the door. But you didn't have time to wonder how that is even possible you needed to get away, now.

You try punching Kayn at the center of his chest, but he effortlessly catches your fist with his free hand. You don't hesitate to swing with your other arm but he merely deflects it with Rhaast.

Before you can retaliate again one of Kayn's chunky boots slams into your chest as he kicks you down the stairs. You tumble back until you reach the bottom of the flight landing in a painful position. Yasuo's worried voice calls to you from the holo watch, you can barely make out his words over the throbbing in your head and ringing in your ears.

"(Y/N)?....(Y/N)? Where are you? We're at the Morningstar and we can already see multiple Locus Armada ships coming into orbit."

You can barely let out a groan from your lips while you're slumped against the wall. Kayn stalks closer toward you, each descending click of his boots echoing in the stairwell.

Kayn towers above you the sterile lighting behind him casts a shadow that engulfs you beneath him. The light glints off of Rhaast's blade creating a beautiful shimmer of blues and purples. A beautiful yet deadly weapon that Kayn is drawing back, ready to slice you in half with.

You began to squirm, trying to get to your feet, kick back, or do anything. But Kayn silences your pitiful attempts to fight back by crushing your torso against the wall with his boot. The Ordinal grimaces as your blood trickles onto his shoe.

"Looks like I win". Sneers Kayn, a victorious look gleaming in his green eye.

You sputter, blood drooling from your lips as you lay beneath Kayn helpless. But your glare remains defiant. You can barely breathe and your vision begins to blur. You can hear the distressed voices of your friends coming from your holo watch. They call out your name arguing about coming for you, but their hands are tied up with the Locus Armada closing in on the Morningstar.

"Yasuo...get everyone out of here."

"We can't just leave you behind-"

"Just do it!"

Yasuo sighs with reluctance, nodding to his watch, and walks over to the cockpit. Jinx screams at him to not do this, even attempting to wrestle Yasuo away from the control wheel. Yauso nods for Malphite to hold his friend back while he pilots the Morningstar to take off. Just in time to get away from the empire's fleet with hyperdrive.

You look at Kayn, forcing yourself to smile. "You failed at getting Sona...again". He growls and hoists his scythe up ready to slice you down the middle but halts. You can hear Rhaast whisper something to the Ordinal but you're too out of it to make out what the scythe was saying.

The fierce scowl on his face melts into a smug smirk, Kayn lets out a dark chuckle before leaning down and grabbing you by the fabric of your shirt. "Change of plans, you're coming with me."

You are hoisted back onto your feet and forced to lean onto the Ordinal who walks you through the Karaoke center. You try your hardest not to black out, to keep your awareness around Kayn but it's hard when you're bleeding so much. But eventually, everything goes dark as you're left at the mercy of Kayn.

Part Eight Here

[jonesywrites]

Did you make a playlist for vantage point? I remember some interesting were on there but can't find it. I'll listen while we wait for updates . Everything is so good so far! Better than I remember it!

Hello anon!

I did, when I first wrote the story back in the day! Each song represents a moment in or the entire chapter for which it was written. I am planning to start adding the songs as references as I post (and retroactively to those chapters already up), but here's a brief explanation/list for what you've read so far.

ALSO -- FAIR WARNING. I am over 40 and my musical tastes reflect that, but also I like intensity in my music, and there is a certain aesthetic for this story --- CYBER NOIR. Think: Drive (the movie with Ryan Gosling).

"I'll Take Care of You", Bobby Blue Bland

This is the song playing on the jukebox in the bar where he accepts the job from Andrea.

"Secret", Maroon 5

(yes, that maroon 5) This is the general mood of the story. I know I don't know you, but I want you so bad.

"GAZI", A. CHAL

Playing at Michonne's party while Rick is watching her.

"Streets," Doja Cat

Rick's fantasy trist with Michonne in the shadows, on the side of her house.

"Protection", Massive Attack

General mood for chapter 2. Rick sees Michonne as someone so alluring to him, in part, because of her solitude and obvious (at least, to him) vulnerability. He yearns to protect her, and he will, even despite his own obvious need for healing, himself.

"Green Desert", Tangerine Dream

The Beast stalking and kidnapping Amy.

"Poor Knight," COMA

The song playing on Rick's truck radio from the station Michonne likes while he drives her home.

"Yes," Chromatics (the Symmetry remix)

Rick watching Michonne after he drives her home, Rick beating the shit out of the intruder, Michonne asking him to come to her after he confirms how much he's been watching her.

"Shameless," Groove Armada, ft. Bryan Ferry

Rick and Michonne have sex for the first time.

"In Common," Alicia Keys

Michonne watches Rick sleep, contemplating how they move forward.

"Broken Mirrors," Chromatics

Rick and Shane meet, we reflect on their past, through the broken mirror of Rick's trauma -- missing his best friend but refusing to let his past lure him out of his self-inflicted isolation. Also, we realize who The Beast is.

"Pizza Guy", Touch Sensitive

Glenn's theme.

That's up to date so far, the rest of the songs are in order of events in each chapter and I'll repost this with updates on why I chose them once I post those chapters :)

I know that my taste in music isn't for everyone, but I am definitely trying to build an atmosphere here, so that leads a lot of my choices.

Thanks so much for the ask!

-Kendra

[qualcosadelgenere]

PT.2

1) Jean Baker: "Australia's strongest goalkeeper. He is the true Poseidon."

2) David Waterman: "Originally an Aussie rules player but was longing to participate in the tournament."

3) Shine Beach: "He cannot stand it when a sandy beach is dirty and picks up garbage every day."

4) Karmei Kohler: "He keeps art handed down from ancient times in Australia as a tradition."

5) Clark Cain: "Eager to protect the rare creatures that live in Australia."

6) Sully Princeton: "A genius at finding the whereabouts of rare minerals. He seems to know by just looking at the terrain."

7) Matt Angle: "Patience strengthened by spiritual discipline is the key to this player's power."

8) Surf Wyndhas: "A worldwide master at surfing. He waits for good waves to always look at the sea."

9) Niese Dolphin: "The brilliant prince of the sea. He is the man to lead Australia."

10) Reef Hamilton: "He is a master at catching tropical fish in coral reefs by skindiving."

11) Joe Jones: "Attacks at once when it comes to opportunities to quietly creep up on the opponent."

12) Quincy Horst: "He travels the wilderness still looking for a new gold mine."

13) Holly Summers: "Although he has a part-time job as Santa every year he envies the cold areas."

14) Clive Scissors: "He is good at cutting through opponents with the use of his sharp arm."

15) Daniel Barrack: "He is working hard to be the best in the world of horse meat that has been kept at his home in Australia."

16) Bruce Marlin: "Does his footwork with a spring characteristic of a kangaroo."

1) Fermin Sanchez: "Like a bull at a matador, he charges straight through the crowd to grab the ball."

2) José Costa: "He's an experienced and tenacious mountain biker."

3) Rafael López: "He's a great flamenco dancer. Girls are lining up for a chance to dance with him."

4) Antonio Galius: "He's always making sketches for abstract paintings, like Picasso."

5) Querardo Naval: "He's trained to be a matador since he was a child, but he hates hurting animals."

6) Joan Nadal: "He eats five meals a day to keep his strength up when he's travelling overseas."

7) Igor Freire: "He's an avid consumer of paella, but he's really fussy about the type of rice."

8) Mikel Pereiro: "His hobby is making sailing boats. He's assembling an invincible armada in his bathtub."

9) Pedro Moreno: "He's raising a black Iberian pig at home, in the hope of producing tasty ham."

10) Samuel Mayo: "This plucky Pamplonica dreams of one day showing his mettle at the Running of the Bulls."

11) Davi Peroqui: "He's fiercely proud of Spanish football, and doesn't hide his desire to take on the world."

12) Juan Zubeldia: "Everyone is bewitched by his virtuosic skill at flamenco guitar."

13) Isaac César: "An opportunist on and off the field. If he sees a beautiful girl, he'll try to charm her."

14) Laudelino Sastre: "Like Don Quixote, he acts rashly without considering consequences."

15) Carlos Arroyo: "He hopes to raise architectural wonders like the Sagrada Familia."

16) Federico Rubiera: "He'd like to have a go at synchronised swimming, but he can't find a boys' team."

1) Ladji Paara: "Always draws pictures in Montmartre. He wants to be called the pioneer of soccer pictures."

2) Pierre Godin: "His motto is: always play with style and grace, no matter who your rival is."

3) Miguel Arron: "Despite his appearance, this boy has a gift for French cuisine."

4) Franz Poujol: "He wants to make a building more famous than the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe in Paris someday!"

5) Kévin Pinot: "He wants to apply Napoleonic battle strategies on the playing field."

6) Laurent Pérec: "He always spends his days off relaxing at outdoor cafés."

7) Ronny Weiss: "As one of France's best boy models, he is in high demand for fashion shows and photogravures."

8) Stéphane Henno: "A young genius artist of chansons. All of his CDs are big hits!"

9) Julien Rousseau: "He likes to play with a rose clamped between his teeth. Very pretentious."

10) Jérôme Éloi: "Due to having a keen sense of smell, this person is capable of blending the best perfume."

11) Alain Failliot: "The son of a bicycle repairman. He'd like to help out at the Tour de France one day."

12) Émile Razzano: "He considers himself a devotee of French cinema and has a large collection of DVD movies."

13) André Panzo: "He likes nineteenth-century philosophy, but his friends do not understand him when he explains it."

14) Jean Jetin: "Although he has not yet made the leap to fame, this guy is a fashion prodigy."

15) Claude Moreau: "His baguettes are known throughout France. Mmm … They are delicious!"

16) Michel Morin: "He has a gift for gardening, especially if it's about cultivating life."

[moonlit-trolls]

Killed in Action

[Character Death, A lot of Death, Blood]

[Docs for your sake]

Imperial Armada Fleet Ship: CVA-8 Tango. Saturday. 22nd April.

Remarks.

“Captain D. Holand. The vessel left alternia at 07:22. We arrived at spacing altitudes at 13:46. The beginning of our interplanetary mission. We are traveling with a Spacecraft Carrier. Seventeen Attack vessels on board. with Twenty men able to operate said carriers. We have a medic on board, With enough resources for six weeks in space. The team is manned by twenty seven grunts. Two Sniper class soldiers. and four demolition experts. We are to return with the head of a Rebel Leader who is stationed in an Asteroid about 7.7 AU. We will arrive in two weeks. Our mission should last two more. And we return in the last two the ship has been charted for. “

The beginning was an excerpt from the mission log that Fareha Qianna had been sent to. A simple mission to Eliminate an off-alternia Rebel base. The mission had simple objectives, Eliminate the leader, Kill off stragglers, leave none behind. They might have gone with that idea. but when they arrived in the meteor the story was different.

— Sniper 02, Qianna to team alpha. Do you copy? — Qianna spoke into her earpiece

— Team Alpha. We copy Qianna, What is the vision from above? — The leader responded in quick. The voice was low, they were getting close to where other trolls might hear

— Leader under aim. Shot Clear, I count Seven guards, But twenty or more behind curtains. Team Bravo, Do you copy? —

— Team Bravo here. We copy. give the go and we have enough C4 to blow this place to smithereens. —

— Sniper 01. Falcon Qianna, Be careful. They have Two psionics holding some sort of box up in the air. We wait until the talk is over and I take the shot. Sniper 02 can take two guards while team Bravo and Alpha get in with the explosives —

That was the voice of the person who donated Genetic material to make Fareha Qianna in a lab about Nine or Ten sweeps ago. The first object of fleet-creation and she Despised the donor. Either way The older sniper was correct, taking the shot now would be suicide, They would be found out and the rebels would run, lower chance of total annihilation for them. So Qianna bid her time. Hours speaking as the leader refused to go silent. but as the voice became lower. as the box got revealed, with gold and jewels they had stolen from the imperial museum weeks ago. Falcon took the shot. Clean, as the bullet flew, Qianna saw the command and did two more. half a second between each other. Two guards down and the leader gone. with brains splattered on the ground, the red made a beautiful scenery if you asked the young gunner.

Teams Alpha and Bravo closed in. An explosion on the silo where they were holding the fragile members of the rebellion followed by foot soldiers running in. It was then that Qianna turned off her reckon helmet connected to team alpha and bravo. The screams never. leave her mind, but if she can hide from them perhaps she wouldn’t dream too long of the dead.

— Qianna to Qianna. Do you copy — Falcon said, her voice sounded raspy 

— Copy. Speak Falcon… — While Fareha’s sounded empty. almost like a whisper, but before the answer from her ‘mother’ qianna spoke again — It doesn’t get easier does it? The… killing the screams the cries everything just gets worse right? —

— Yes. Yes it does. But it is not our place to question, nor to think. it’s our place to act, and we need you acting right now fareha — Falcon spoke as two shots could be heard.

As Qianna  aimed down sights once more, she saw the two drones killing Team Alpha. while team bravo killed the rest of the runaway rebels. Five shots. No ammo. Qianna missed all of them. her hands were shaking from the carnage, but it had to be done. The Reload felt slow, Heavy as the lead that she put in her gun. She shot again. First drone down. No battery as the second one got destroyed by a rogue grenade.

— Team alpha. How many Casualties? — Fareha asked with her voice shaking. 

— We seem to have lost five Alpha Soldiers. With the loss from team Charlie we are totalling twelve Casualties. — A grunt spoke back, Rage filling his voice at his comrades dying.

The vantage point she was aiming at felt colder. Her suit was made to counteract the void of space the absolute Detestable freezing temperatures it held. but not this. this came from inside. As she heard steps behind her. And as much as she didn’t want to look. she knew dying there would be worse and more painful than killing more.

Ankle pistol. Aiming down at the rogue rebel. He had a piece of glass. The Rebel couldn’t be more than Six sweeps old, and she hesitated. She didn’t want to shoot someone who’s barely stopped being a wriggler, and in a moment of weakness. The rebel struck. stabbing her in the stomach. Combat maneuvers are easy. Once the blade was in she subdued the target but the damage was done. her stomach oozing cobalt. with the assailant detained. Blood dripped on his backpack. It looked like one of her plushies from back on ship.

— Bad Situation. Send Reckon. Damage to suit. Oxygen running out at extreme speeds. Will not be able to breathe in Seven minutes. — Fareha said to the earpiece.

But as she saw teams alpha, bravo and charlie retreating to the ship. it echoed back to her first mission. The objective was complete. There is no reason to bring back those left behind. She was far from communications when she tossed the restrained troll off the vantage point. Low gravity, he would survive. Same couldn’t be said for her as she pulled the shard out. Cobalt floating upwards as it left her body. as she walked to the dozens of bodies. Hoping to find any sort of breather or oxygen. With the knowledge that the teams destroyed them to reduce survivability.

The steps became heavier, The barely seen light of the alternian sun glowing at the edge of the meteor, as things flashed black and white. as there was no more blood to be pumped out. Qianna burned her wounds close with one of the makeshift guns the rebels had, The type to go red hot after a shot. and sat down. staring into the emptiness of space.

— Oxygen tank. 5%. chance of survival 0.03%... The fleet will receive your last words Fareha Qianna. What will they be? — The suit spoke.

— Tell them all to die. Tell them all to fucking Die — Qianna said taking one of the half destroyed tanks and substituting for hers. Delaying the inevitable

— You cannot be hostile to your masters, Choose different Last Words Fareha Qianna — The Suit responded to the cobalt. before updating the oxygen levels

— Oxygen Tank, Partially Destroyed, 12% Chance of survival 0.5% — the suit said, in a monotone voice 

And as the meteor left the view of the Fleet Ship. So did Qianna, left behind. And the final consensus was at the return of the mission.

— We lost many men. in this fight against the rebellion. Thirteen to be exact. Fareha Qianna was between them. May the messiahs hold her hand… — Bullshit, he didn’t care. Didn’t believe in a word he was speaking, just had to do this.

But in the end, The verdict is. Fareha Qianna was KIA. as her last words were played for all to hear in the ship’s hull

— I am alone. And… it’s cold… — 

[acarrcreations]

< take me to previous chapter!

<< take me to the beginning

Rayman Retaliation

Chapter 6:

Rayman was transported to a magical realm. The ground below him no longer crumbled to dust after each footstep and instead was covered in tall grass. The strange but unique alien-like trees and foliage were here, but instead they were now looking strong and healthy. The sky was also clear, with stars dotted in the twilight sky. He inhaled a big breath of the clean air.

Before him stood a stone pedestal. As the sun set, some light broke through the over-head leaves and landed on it, revealing a large robot resting against it. It almost went unnoticed as it was camouflaged with overgrown plant life. The robot looked unlike the Robot Pirates he was used to seeing; it was softer in shape with big round eyes and long limbs. It was rusty, damaged and appeared to be deactivated, with a large dent in the corner of it’s head.

Each side of the pedestal had different shaped holes. Rayman quietly walked up to one side of the pedestal and slid the mask he was holding onto in a slot of a similar shape, and it fit perfectly. The eyes on the mask glowed and the deactivated robot’s eyes flashed on and back off again.

Rayman started to fade away from the realm as little orbs of light danced around him and he reappeared back at the clearing with Joe and the walking shell.

“I’ve found the real Robot world spirit.”

Rayman and Joe quickly shifted through the remaining mask segments in the treasure chest and pieced them together like jigsaw puzzles. Some were more damaged than others, but once the pieces were together, Rayman was able to carry them through to the realm where the Robot spirit lied secluded.

Once the four masks were installed, the true Robot planet spirit was awoken. It slowly raised itself up from the ground and rubbed at it’s dented head.

“Thank you for waking me. Ouch… my head is killing me. I’ve been having the worst nightmares! There was a Robot Pirate armada and everything, can you believe that?”

Rayman raised an eyebrow.

Rayman and the Robot spirit faded away from the realm and appeared at the clearing where Joe was waiting. The spirit stood tall against the two of them. It was still covered in the plants and boasted a large round body with long arms made up of interlocked parts. It had an expressionless metal face with a box-shaped jaw and two round green glass eyes that glittered.

It looked around at the tired looking jungle then out towards the devastation. After a moment of standing in silence, it spoke, not moving it’s gaze from the view.

“Look, Rayman, at what my nightmares have done to my world. A planet of anguish and pain, haunted by evil. A dark place, teeming with fierce monsters... I can’t believe I let my nightmares overwhelm me.”

“H...how do you know my name?” asked Rayman.

"Being a creature that was not dreamed up by any of the spirits is a big deal you know!" It laughed heartily and held out its hand to shake, "My name is Robolokus and I'm very pleased to finally meet you.”

Rayman looked at the large metal hand before him and warmly shook it. A glowing light of energy emitted from its large hand and Rayman’s injuries faded. He felt stronger than ever.

Robolokus looked up to the sky. It extended and adjusted it’s eyes like lenses on a camera. It got a good look at the other planets tethered to this planet. Anger brewed inside it.

“Do you think you can restore this world back to how it was?” responded Rayman.

“The people and the Heart of this world have been long destroyed. But I cannot allow this destruction to keep spreading. We can put a stop to this now that you’ve restored me.”

It looked around more with it’s telescopic vision.

“See what you can do to about the planet moving. I will face my nightmare counterpart: he has been corrupted. Him being the sole deity of this world has upset the balance. The Pirates have stolen all the magic from this world for selfish means. I will use the last of my strength to put a stop to this destruction.”

It grew larger and larger until it towered over the trees. The rust and the plant life that covered it peeled off to reveal a glossy surface. It looked shiny and new as it marched away. The ground shook with each footstep and some of the trees collapsed in the jungle.

Rayman and Joe jumped up and down and cheered for joy. Rayman, now energised with confidence, punched at his fist.

“Time to take Razorbeard down a pegleg!”

The walking shell jumped up and down with excitement, neighing loudly. Suddenly, they could see herds of walking shells galloping in the distance towards them. The walking shells soon burst through the foliage into the clearing with them. They were all rearing and neighing excitedly.

Rayman gasped at the sight.

“They do move in herds”.

Back inside the tower, Razorbeard was demanding the Pirates around him to tell him where Rayman was, but they didn’t know. Suddenly the wide room shuddered. Dust and bits of debris fell from the ceiling. The telescope and chandelier swung around. One of the Pirates collapsed through the weak floor.

Razorbeard started sweating oil and rushed over to the telescope to see what was happening. He turned the telescope to face down below and noticed to his surprise that the real Robot spirit had returned and was marching directly towards the nightmare guardian counterpart.

“No, no, no, no, no…!” choked Razorbeard. He scrambled back through his secret doorway to a different room.

The corridors of the tower were quickly filling up with hundreds of walking shells, which would crash into walls and blow up, causing the tower to shake and walls to break down. The Pirates that patrolled the corridors would get hit and explode from colliding with the shells. Rayman and Joe, both riding on shells, had burst into the room Rayman originally met Razorbeard in, just in time to see him zip past the large window in an escape pod.

“He can’t get away again!” exclaims Rayman, jumping off the walking shell. The walking shell ran on ahead and exploded as it collided with the window, smashing it further.

Joe, still on his walking shell, suggested that if they get to his space ship quickly they might be able to follow behind him.

Rayman thought about this for a moment, but then he saw the pedestal with the big red button in the room.

“That button over there sets off the giant cannon.” explained Rayman, “At least Razorbeard isn't here to activate it anymore, but we still need to stop this planet from moving and crashing into the Glade of Dreams.”

They watched Razorbeard’s escape pod drive away in the distance.

“Oh I know! Maybe we could use the cannon to hit Razorbeard’s escape pod instead! Joe, see if you can find the bridge room to stop this planet-ship from moving and target the cannon at Razorbeard instead.”

“Right!” Responded Joe, “I’ll set off the alarm system to tell you when to hit that button!”

Joe and the other walking shells that were there swiftly left the room to find the bridge of the planet-ship.

Rayman ran towards the red button to prepare, but not before Robo-Rayman flew down before him, blocking the way. Rayman, angry, began to create a huge power pellet in his hands and launched it at Robo-Rayman.

The swarm of walking shells obliterated any Pirates in his path so Joe safely managed to find the bridge and broke into it. The room was cold and empty except for buttons and flashing lights. A low whirr of machinery was the only thing that broke the silence. He quickly grabbed the steering wheel and pulled the brakes and the planet screeched to a halt. Joe messed around with the controls, pulling out wires and having a great time tinkering around with Pirate technology. The cannon was now slowly moving away from aiming at the Glade of Dreams and instead was moving towards the direction of Razorbeard’s escape pod.

“This is probably a little over kill.” Wondered Joe.

Meanwhile, Robo-Rayman was fighting Rayman trying to tie him up with the magic inhibitors again. Rayman pushed back by firing power-pellets at it.

With the cannon locked onto Razorbeard’s escape-pod, Joe set off the alarm to signal Rayman to activate the cannon. The lights went off and strobe lights flashed the rooms red as the claxon rang across the tower again.

The alarm signal was going off for an unnerving amount of time.

Outside, Robolokus had started fighting it’s counterpart. The strength of the two beings would shake the already weakened planet. The rooms in the tower shuddered violently, with dust falling from the ceiling.

“Why hasn’t Rayman fired the cannon yet?” Joe whispered restlessly to his firefly friend hiding in his collar, “I don’t want to still be here when the planet breaks apart!"

< Chapter 5

Chapter 7 >

<< What is Rayman Retaliation?

[shychangling]

OH MY GOODNESS! I feel like Megatron would get very intense about Armada Starscream if his Autobot time lined up with him and Minimus would try to be supportive and Rodimus would be there because, "you are really intense Megs you'll scare the kid", because Starscream is Baby to them.

And now they are all three mentoring him him in a weird pseudo-therapy for various unaddressed issues and Starscream is easily fully accepted by these Autobots because the grand total of his crimes are what, property damage?

Whirl, assuring bby!Starscream he is accepted: Nah, you're good kid. We have Megatron and Drift. They've easily killed the population of this planet. Everyone on this ship has a hundred times the body count you could possibly dream of. Cyclonus wiped out most of an Autobot Outpost single handed. Everyone hated him! First "Pacifist" Aid shot a guys head off! Sweet Potty Mouthed Nickel over there used to run with the Decepticon Kill Squad as hee Murder Fam! Rewind, innocent tiny snuff film affecianado Rewind-

Starscream: Wait. What?

Whirl: -killed a baby, I mean he thought the baby was Megatron, so fair, but still a baby! I couldn't even kill a baby and I am a cold blooded killer. True my baby turned out to be the coolest sweetest smartwst sentient scraplet colony a parent could ask for, but you can meet Whril Jr. later! Cons and murderers ain't new. You're kiddie leagues Wings.

I am wordless this is hilarious.

Babyscream is gonna be so weirded out. Nod and just accept all of this.

I think he'd be strangely comfortable around LL!Megatron because hey. This Megatron is nicer to him, not gaslighting him, and certainly not beating on him for the hell of it if he does something wrong.

Also NO CREEP VIBES. That's the part that sets Starscream both on edge and comfortable. He's no idea which part to trust. Its almost too good to be true.

Its actually a relief when Whirl tells him all the crimes. Lets the air clear.

[levelrazearts]

Had this guy done for a while now but was hoping to have something else ready to pair with him, but it's gonna be a while before said item is ready so here he is, custom Legacy Armada Hot Shot, already my favorite custom this year mainly cause Armada is both my favorite TF series and my first, and while I'm not 100% certain on this, the original Hot Shot figure is possibly my first Transformer figure ever, if not him than the Super Base Optimus, so having this figure made really is a dream come true and painting it was honestly an honor of sorts given how much this franchise means to me. But as far as the figure goes, used blue angel yellow as the base, gloss black, silver, red, and blue, graphite metallic, and flat grey. For the Autobot logo, I used a Toy Hax raised logo sticker as the original toy had a raised sigil and wanted to replicate it, cut out the edges of it to get it to fit and painted over it and it looks good I think. Used a gap filler set I got on ebay (link below) to help make this look better and it definetly helps, didn't use the guns or barrel cause didn't want to, and I also gave him the StarSaber that the Legacy Armada Starscream came with cause the first episode I have recorded of the series on vhs is Hot Shot with the StarSaber that introduces Scavenger so ye. For the StarSaber, I went and removed the 5mm post that was on the front of the hilt to make it look more streamline and as a result, also game me a pretty good premade minicon symbol dot to fill in with paint zo that worked out really well. Afterwards, I used flat white as a coat, than gloss white and blue, and flat sky blue for the blade. Also cut out the little fillers between the blade and the legs of what would be Sonar in the sword to help give it a better profile (which was nerve racking) and ye, they turned out well. Overall, very happy I with how this turned out, can't wait to do more Armada figures as they hopefully come out as Megs and Prime are on the roaster and as Starscream is already in my collectoon he'll definetly be on the list to paint.

Gap fillers - https://www.ebay.com/itm/304770203878?mkcid=16&mkevt=1&mkrid=711-127632-2357-0&ssspo=DtUb8VzESva&sssrc=2349624&ssuid=8tbfbcNxSdG&var=&widget_ver=artemis&media=COPY

[books-of-the-great-leviathan]

Chapter 38- Alois

***

A hundred times he'd dreamed of returning to Pavaloir triumphant, onboard a warship, with an armada on his heels. His fleet's flanks, in this elaborate fantasy, bristled with alchemic bolts, enough to render Pavaloir Tower a smoking ruin.

This is what you wanted, Father.

He'd herald his return with spellfire: a single bolt fired into the stars to burst, brilliant blue, and rain embers down over his father's head. He'd entertained the notion of his own fleet of chained, trained sea-orks, gnashing and rearing their tusked heads with bloodlust, ready to devour anyone unlucky enough to be tipped into their waiting maws.

Now am I a true son of Estara?

He'd dreamed of a quieter homecoming, too, standing at the foot of his father's throne, Daval watching him approach. Waiting, tense, and finally: folding against him as Daval Belmont gripped him in a tight embrace and, at last, forgave him.

Lost years and apologies. War and bloodshed and a rain of destruction. Never chains, never pushed through the halls of Pavaloir Tower in fetters, crusted in blood and sweat and the grime of days in a brig. Never at the side of Isabella Valere, who was just as filthy, her blonde hair tangled and lank around her shoulders.

Alois glimpsed a flash of hard blue Estaran sky before they were taken deep beneath Pavaloir Tower, deep into the holding cells tunneled into the dark bedrock beneath the fortress. The sight of his homeland on the horizon had shaken tears from him: the long ruddy coastline, cliffs carved by vivid blue waves, peaks reaching toward a cloudless sky. Pavaloir, too, heat-shimmer rising like a sapsilk veil above the city's towers, the reek and roil of the harbors, ships clustering at quay. Smoke and street grids and glittering herring hauls and the madcap crowds of the markets, the agoras open to the sun, the statues of old kings gutting the sky with upraised blades. Even the cathedral with its twin spires was a sweet familiar sight, casting its long shadow over all. He drank it in. It would be, he knew, the last time he'd ever see it. This time his father would kill him.

He would never leave Pavaloir Tower alive.

"Aren't we going to the king?" he asked as the guards pushed them down a long, subterranean corridor, cells to either side. Most were full, and eyes followed them, glittering, as Alois stumbled past. He'd not come down here much. The air was close, the light blue-white, casting a weird glow across the walls. "We were told-"

"His Majesty knows you're here," the guard said. "You'll see him when he calls for you." Behind the helmet Alois couldn't tell if he knew him, if he'd trained with him, laughed and drank and clasped arms with him in brotherhood.

It wouldn't matter if he had. Loyalties were broken at Daval's word.

"Please," Alois said. "Let me see him now. I have information that might save his life. It's about Enzo Acier- he works for my father, he's a spy, he's Lapidaean, and he's a traitor to Estara. I swear to you, I'm not lying. I'm-"

"We know who you are," the guard said, and shoved him into a waiting cell. "That's all we need to know. Now shut up."

The door clanged shut. Isabella and Elias went into the cell across the hall, where Isabella stood, silent, head hanging. A five-count bruise darkened her cheek. She watched the guards go, following them with her eyes like some great predator in a cage. Elias curled up in a corner, muttering again to himself far from the reach of the light.

Was Marin somewhere in the Tower? Did he know Alois was here? Alois pressed his hands over his eyes. He wanted to crush his curse out of him. He wanted to rip his eyes from his skull.

He folded to his knees before the bars and rested his forehead against the cold steel. Tears stung in the cuts on his face. Here he was, a true son of Lapide, kneeling and sobbing in a cell. Home at last, Alois.

"We'll make him listen," Isabella said.

"What?" He raised his head. His vision swam: shadow and blue-white light and Isabella's dirty golden hair. "Are you mad? He'll never listen. I was a fool to ever think he would. He's right, you know. I am nothing. Not fit to rule. Not fit to hold the title of prince. Not even fit to be Estaran-"

"All hells take Estara," Isabella snarled. "And all hells take you, too, if you think you can curl up and make yourself nothing. It was my judgment that brought us here. My punishments to bear if that's what your father decides. But until the axe falls or the rope cracks necks I won't see my allies on their knees, weeping defeat. Not when there's a new bloody way to live. Did you mean none of what you said on Bellana's Arm?"

Alois stared as she spoke, at the fervor in her body. No, not fervor- steel, spellforged steel. She was goading him, he knew, trying to get a rise from him. "You don't know my father."

"And you seemed confident enough he would listen." She leaned forward, holding the bars. "You said your mother was strong. You said she did what she wanted, when she wanted, despite all. She's a part of you as much as he is. Would she be proud to see her only son lain low? Would she be proud to watch you lose hope?"

His heart ached, his eyes stung. The world seemed crushed on all sides, an unbearable weight looming overhead. He wanted to protest he was nothing like her, nothing like his mother, bright and bold. He wanted to protest all his mother had won for her ways was an early death. He couldn't find the words.

"That's it," Isabella murmured.

Her eyes pinned him, gray as storm clouds, holding him from despair. Maybe there was something to the legends of witch-blood running through the house of Valere. Even filthy and bloodied, in torn Estaran uniform, she looked like a queen.

Alois dozed, slipping beneath the surface of his exhaustion. Time had no foothold here, nothing to mark hours save patrols, the distant ring of boots on stone, the clash and clatter of weapons filtering down from some training hall above. Blood dreams pulsed under his skin: ship graveyards and flames on the horizon, the distant cries of great birds circling overhead. The shrine, again, this time not lit with candlelight but dark, shadows and eider moth nests gusting like ghosts. The charms were gone, the spring dry. A layer of dust hazed the three-faced goddess. Whatever holy thing had lived there was gone, now, gone and gone forever.

He jolted awake at the screech of hinges, but it was only a prison matron pushing food through a slot in the cell door. She glanced at him, a bare assessing flash of dark eyes, then moved on, the folds of her long wimple fluttering behind her.

"Thank you," Alois called, and pulled the tray toward him: dense spiced meal shaped into cakes, a twist of orkmeat dried tough as leather, a tin cup of water to wet it soft enough to chew. Alois ripped into it with both hands, savoring the familiar spices. Lapidaean food was all strange, rich crustaceans and fish bathed in fruit glazes. He'd missed the simplicity of Estaran spice cakes. Marin only ate these things with honey, slathered on so thick it turned Alois's stomach to watch him stuff down cake after cake.

Marin. His heart hurt, full and sick. Was his little brother sleeping, now? Was he somewhere in a sunlit courtyard above, learning to shoot, learning to kill? Had he already begun to dream of war, not of his books and sweets and fox kits?

He wanted to be a fisherman, Alois remembered. A prince, dreaming of fish.

You will hear me, Father.

If not for his mother, then for Marin. If not for another, then for himself, for all the crimes his father had lain upon him for living. For all their people, and the country they deserved to live in, the country his homeland could strive to be.

For Estara, he thought. At least those were words his father would understand.

***

The guards came for them after the long night.

No words were exchanged. Alois scrambled to his feet before they could pull him upright. He'd face them on his feet. Isabella held her head high, her eyes still hard, not acknowledging the guards even as they snapped fetters around her wrists again. They left Elias where he was, still curled like an animal in the corner of the cell. Alois spared a look back and saw him staring, eyes wide and bright, clutching the bars as he watched them go.

They wound upward through the Tower, through dark-stone hallways and up vast sweeps of stairways, guarded by armored statues, spearpoints honed sharp. More men joined them, Tower guard in red and steel, fellfoxes snarling across sashes, none of them meeting his eyes. Alois's hands shook in their fetters, and he felt the familiar bite of steel into the half-healed scabs on his wrists. How many times had he tasted chain these past months?

Through the upper halls of the Tower, grand fortress bastions and fanning echoes, heat pouring through narrow slit windows. The sun was high and already searing, flags flying proud across Pavaloir's blue sky. Through the King's Hall, with its sagas carved in rock for generations to revere. King Ardain and the Sundered Empire, his legions of soldiers cutting their way through his traitorous brother's ranks. The chandeliers above were darkened, the rusty marble of the floor a deep blood-black, pools of sunlight gilding the tangle of carved figures.

Would his father carve a second King's Hall for his coming campaign, once it was done? It seemed the sort of thing he'd do to cement his place in the annals of Estaran history, and it was an impressive enough tale: the Sundered Empire made whole again, Daval its emperor, glorious and triumphant. Would Alois take the place of Ardain's traitorous brother, Daval poised to slice off his head while he knelt in the blood and the dust?

Let him, he thought, with an unfamiliar burst of ferocity. And let the truth be known. All of this rests on me and my obedience, Father. You still have yet to thank me for it.

They advanced up the stair, to the throne room. His shudder worsened at the sight of the arched doorway; one door stood open, and a spill of many-colored light pooled across the steps. The throne room was full of it, rendered magnificent by it. Echoes fanned across the throne, across the stained-glass windows, the goddess's power rendered in glass and iron: lightning, sea-beasts hewn, swords ablaze.

The throne was empty, the room empty save for a pair of maids sweeping its corners.

Alois's pulse hammered as he searched the throne room. His father was nowhere in sight. The guards pushed them ahead, past the throne, through the stained glass light.

"Where is he?" Alois slowed down, chains jangling. "Where's-"

His guard gave him a shove. "Keep walking."

The maids lowered their heads as they were led by, averting their eyes, knuckles white on their broom handles.

They passed through a second set of doors, through a colonnade looking down to the crashing waves far, far below, and into a grand room: hexagonal, built inside one of the fortress towers, overlooking the sea. Alois had seen this place little enough. His father had rarely allowed him access to his solar, his inner sanctum, the rooms where he played architect to the war.

The room was full of light, making the most of its southerly placement on the Tower. Metal tables held documents, stacks of hidebound books and scattered pens, current-spanned maps of Bellana's Arm. Daval's war table stood under the weight of countless figurines, models of ships showing the ebb and flow of his navy across the Arm. The outer wall was all arches, each set with a window of thick rivet-studded glass crusted in salt spray. Several stood open, filling the room with sea-breeze and sun.

Bellana's mercy, Alois thought.

Through the windows, in the bay, all of Pavaloir behind it, was a warship. No ordinary warship. Mastless, armored, immense, it shadowed the waves to the color of night, its flanks sheer cliffs of spellforged steel: a vast hammerheaded monstrosity, the fellfox emblazoned proud on its bow. It was not a pulse he'd heard before, but the thunder of its engines. The sound was louder here, a vibration in his bones, shaking the floor beneath his feet.

Alois's mouth was dry. He turned back toward the room, dazed. Swords stood in racks, and lumps of dull gray metal were scattered over workbenches. Star iron, Alois recognized. A small forge smoldered in a corner, and the king stood at it, working the bellows, a piece of white-hot metal gripped in a pair of tongs.

"On their knees," Daval said, without looking back.

"Father-" Alois started.

A kick from a guard put him on the ground. Alois fell, teeth snapping together. He winced, palms flat on the marble of the floor. He saw his hazy reflection in it, saw the bright panic in his eyes. No. He won't understand. Don't let him see your fear.

But it was there, like it was always there, never stronger than when he faced down his father. He heard the king approach, heard the hiss of the hot metal gripped in the tongs, felt it hover over the back of his neck.

He braced for pain, but it didn't come.

"Alois," his father said. "You've looked better. Don't you think so, Acier?"

Alois raised his head and looked straight into Enzo Acier's face. He leaned against the far wall, in a slant of shadow, his arms crossed. His eyes flicked over Alois, then turned to Isabella, who knelt, rigid, staring back.

"Whatever you say, my king," Acier said.

"Traitor," Isabella snarled.

"He knows where his loyalties lie," Daval said. He turned from Alois and shoved the tongs back into the forge. "Unlike you, it seems. Betrayal, Alois? Didn't I teach you better?"

"He's lying," Alois choked. "Please, Father, he's here to kill you- he's not your spy, he's witchborn, I saw him summon ghosts-"

"Ghosts?" Daval let out a bark of a laugh. "You hear this, Acier? Go on, then. Summon a ghost. Summon King Ardain himself if that's what you want."

"That's beyond my power, I'm afraid," Acier said, still smiling.

"You would say anything to save yourself now," Daval said. He turned back toward Alois and Isabella. "That's who you are, Alois. That's who you've always been. Your mother poisoned you. You're no more a son of Estara than you are a son of mine."

He reached for his belt and drew the whaleglass knife. Isabella tensed. "Did you fancy you'd come and put this in my heart as some kind of retribution?"

The dagger glistened as he turned it to and fro. "Have you examined this, Acier? A curiosity. My father brought it back from the Sunken Ruins of Rashavir on one of his expeditions. Thousands of years old. Some sort of instrument of their fell rituals."

He held it up. The light shone through its translucent blade, casting prisms across his face. "Beautiful, but...terrible, too. I prefer it where I can see it."

"Like we do all dangerous things," Acier said.

"Listen to me," Alois begged. "Father, he's here to destroy you, to destroy Estara. He's your brother-"

"I have no brothers."

"Grandfather and Alezia Valere-"

"Quiet," Daval snarled, and Alois saw the rage in his dark eyes, the barely-contained fire. Daval's hand tightened on the whaleglass knife.

Let him use it, Alois thought. Let him strike me to the ground where all can see.

"I've had enough of quiet," he said. He made himself hold his father's gaze. By his side, he heard Isabella shift her weight. "I've had enough of bowing to you, Father. You've hated me for so long, silenced me for longer. You can stand to listen to me this once."

"And why is that?"

"I think your attempt on my life should pay for a moment of your time," Alois said. "You claim complete devotion to Estara, but do I see you dying for it? No. You'll order a thousand of our people to sacrifice themselves for your cause before you would even begin to consider it for yourself. You'd see the sister isles made wastelands before it came to that."

Daval's face twisted. "I won't hear your mockery, your blasphemy, your venom. Did you think I'd give up Estara's pride? Did you think I'd forget years of war, countless Estaran dead at Lapide's hand? Do you see that?"

He pointed to the warship. "There are five more like it. Five more dreadnoughts, each with enough firepower to level Valeris. This is Estara's hope, not you. You've coiled in my midst for too long, Alois. You, and your whore of a mother."

"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that," Alois snarled. "You hated her, hated that you couldn't control her. And you never could. Not how she lived, and not how she died. She won in the end. She died, but she won because she was free of you."

"You think I wanted to control her?"

"What else do you ever want, Father?"

"I wanted to give her everything," Daval said. He slammed his fist into a tabletop. "Everything, Alois. When I saw her for the first time I thought I'd been blessed by Bellana herself. I never strayed from her. I never betrayed her. Saints, I loved her. And she repaid my love with hatred."

"She was right to hate you," Alois said. "I don't care if you thought you loved her. When she wouldn't bow, you broke her. You thought you could break me, too."

Anger flared through his nerves. "The Witchhunter was there when she died, you know. When you refused to come. He hid my face from her. He loved me so much more than you ever did."

"Good," Daval said, his voice bitter. "A father should love his son."

Alois blinked up at Daval. With effort he found his voice. "What?"

"You don't know, do you," Daval said.

Alois had never heard his father sound that way: not triumphant, not deadly, not burning with pride, but weary. There was such exhaustion there, such sorrow. His grief seemed unending- for a friend who'd betrayed him, a wife who'd hated him. Grief for a country eaten alive by plague, such that the only way to quell its howl was to feed it with Lapidaean blood.

"You never knew." Daval closed his eyes, opened them, looked down at Alois. "You're not my son. You never were. You never wondered why the Witchhunter coddled you, protected you? You never suspected why your mother tried to hide you from me? Fool."

He whispered the last word, and it was full of shame. Did he mean Alois, or himself? Alois couldn't look away. He knelt, paralyzed, all sensation too bright, too strong: the heat of the sun on the back of his neck, his palms slick against the floor. Bruise ache, and hammering heart. Shame, and above all, relief.

He wasn't a Belmont.

He wasn't Daval's son.

"Captain Azare," he whispered. His mouth was dry. He's my..."

"He was my greatest friend, my companion, my brother in arms, weathering alongside me all my terrors," Daval said. "And he betrayed me. Shamed me. Mocked me. They thought I didn't notice their glances, their smiles. Azare stood at my right hand, and all the while he was planting his bastard in my wife."

Gently, he brushed Alois's curls with a fingertip. Tears slid down Alois' face, warm as rain.

"I wasn't...wasn't sure at first," Daval said. "I wanted so badly to be wrong. But then you were born, and I knew as you grew up that you were nothing of mine. But I couldn't kill them. I couldn't kill him. Because he was still my friend."

He lifted the whaleglass knife.

"But I've learned," he said. The look in his eyes brightened: no longer despair, no longer shame, but fire, rage to turn the seas of Bellana's Arm red. Alois' father was gone, and the warlord had come to do his bloody work.

Alois's heart hammered. He struggled to rise, but the guards held him down, ground his knees to the flagstones. His father drew his thumb along the knife's flat with a soft silk hiss, sunstruck whaleglass blinding. Alois couldn't look away from it, couldn't tear his eyes from its point.

"I've learned so much," Daval murmured. "How love makes you weak. How it slips inside you and chains you. How to kill it, when the weight of chains grows too heavy. I meant for you to die in Lapide, Alois, and you failed me in that, along with all the rest of your failures. I should have smothered you in your crib."

He lifted the knife, point poised over Alois's pounding, burning heart. "But it's never too late, Alois," he said. "Never too late to make things right."

A shot split the air.

Heat spattered Alois's face. Two more shots followed, a pair of concussions. The knife jabbed forward, into Alois's sternum; he jolted back, but it went no further. Over him, Daval blinked. His hand opened, like all the strength had gone from it. The knife clattered to the floor.

Red blossomed across the front of his shirt. Three wounds glistened, a trio of perfect target shots straight to his heart.

"Father?" Alois whispered. He tasted salt on his lips: his father's blood. Daval swayed, eyes wide, and collapsed, grabbing at a table. Not enough. He slumped to the side, eyes still open. Blood spread beneath him, red as the fellfox banners.

Behind him, Enzo Acier lowered the gun.

"No," he said. "I suppose it isn't too late."

"Bring him down! Now!"

The guards' command rang through the solar. They were already lunging: a half-dozen Tower guard, red and flashing steel, flinging aside Alois and Isabella's chains.

"Don't-" Alois cried.

All too late.

Cold swept through the room, cold and silver light. Alois looked back as Acier raised his arms, as ghosts tore from nothingness and roiled into substance, silver smoke bright as blades. Howls filled the air, eldritch cries like whalesong and echoes of war. Pressure shifted, sudden as a swelling wave; windows shattered, sprays of broken glass flashing silver in the ghostlight. Talons lashed- a man fell, jaw dangling, holding in his guts with both hands. Another spasmed, held by the wrists and throat while a clot of ghosts crushed the life from him.

"Father." Alois scrambled to Daval's side. The wound pulsed blood; his father's hands were warm as he gripped them. Daval stared into nothing. "Father-"

"Alois." Isabella was there, a soldier's dropped sword in hand. She grabbed Alois by the shoulder. "He's gone. We need to get to the door."

"I can't-"

"Now!" Isabella roared. Ghosts swept toward them, a billowing, twisting mass of teeth and hair and grasping hands. Fingers scraped Alois's face as he spun to his feet. Isabella slashed away the reaching hands and lunged toward the doors, where sunlight spilled in, where it was only a leap to the waves below.

Guards stepped from the ghost-fog, blocking their way. Corpses, the lot of them, eyes silver, bodies a ruinous mangle of flesh. Guts spilled, glistening pink-gray ropes. A jaw dangled by a thread of sinew, open throat glistening with fresh gore. Their breastplates had been rent aside as if the spellforged steel was no stronger than paper.

They raised rifles as one. Isabella lifted her sword in answer, her eyes wide in terrible realization.

No way out but death.

Her gaze flashed to the open windows. Alois looked, too. Panic rose, a sweep of it hot as the nailing sunlight. There was no hope of a clean arc to the waves, not through there. Rocks waited below, jagged and bone-breaking.

No way out, Alois thought again, but death.

He pulled her back, toward the windows. The ghost-ridden soldiers advanced with them. The backs of Alois's knees hit the windowsills; wind sucked at his hair and expelled it, ruffling his curls around his head. The waves spun, the seabirds spun. Isabella shook in his grip, the wrist of her crystal arm cold at his skin.

"Isabella," called Acier. "Don't."

The ghosts parted, and he stood in their midst: tall, lean, his resemblance to Daval clearer now that he stood over his corpse. His brother's corpse, Alois registered. His brother, the king, the dead king. Silver twined under Acier's skin, but his hands were lowered. In one of them he held the whaleglass knife.

"Isabella," he said again.

Isabella jerked back. Alois sucked in a gasp, but she held the sill in one manacled hand, keeping them both from going over. The room was rank with gore. The dead were smeared over the walls, gut-glisten and rusty swathes of blood, the mass of ghosts swollen and churning as the freshly-dead guards joined their ranks. Their cries fluted and howled, but they stayed at bay as Acier advanced on them.

"Come on, Bell, this isn't what I want," he called.

"I don't care what you want," Isabella snarled. "Another step, and I'll take us both over."

"And leave Lapide to me?"

"Give you everything you ever dreamed of in the dark," Isabella said. "Isn't that right, Enzo? Or should I say King Enzo Belmont of Estara?"

"You said this didn't have to end in violence," Acier said. His eyes glimmered silver in the light, bright with- what? Tears? Strain? Alois didn't know. He looked down to where Daval lay sprawled. "It still doesn't, not for you. You've seen what I've seen, I know you have. There's nothing for us here anymore, nothing left of Lapide, nothing left of Estara. Come with me, Isabella."

Silver light danced in her eyes. Her lips trembled, but her gaze was steady on his.

"Stay with me," Acier said. He touched her cheek, his knuckles white. Tears streaked his face, blinding silver in the ghostlight. "There's nothing left to save. It's done, it's over. No need to fight, no need for all this...all this pain. Let it go. Please, Bell, let it go."

"No," Alois whispered.

Acier's eyes snapped to him. By his side he felt Isabella's ragged breathing, her tension shaking him, too. The sea boomed against the rocks. They'd shear him in half. He'd smash, all of him spread on the rocks, food for the gulls.

Or maybe he'd fall. The water might catch him. Hope, as always, struggling foolishly to the surface. What good had it done him? None, and yet it remained, strong as spell-steel. He'd stay a hopeful fool, even if it meant his death.

"No," he whispered again. "There's always something more to save."

And he pitched himself backward, pulling Isabella with him, over the edge of the window and into empty air.

For a moment, he hung. Sunlight, gulls: all was sharp, all was clear. Red cliffs and blue sea, and then the sea seemed to catch him, and the sky rolled, and he fell.

The world turned to wind, to relentless gravity, like a god's hand wrenching him away from the window and into weightless nothingness. Wind screamed in his ears; he wanted to close his eyes, to look away from the death coming fast, but he couldn't move, he couldn't think-

Force hooked his wrists, his ankles, jerking him to a bone-jarring halt. Hands. Silver hands, immaterial, so cold they burned. Whispers filled his head, fingers clutching his hair, running over his face. Isabella hung by his side, cradled in a web of ghostlight, her hair lashing round her shoulders in the wind. Acier's ghosts pulled them both back through the window and flung them across the solar floor, through a litter of blood and broken window glass.

Alois lay, curled, shaking. He wanted to reach out, to take Isabella's hand. To die holding fast to an ally, a friend. But as he reached for her, a shadow fell across him. Pressure crushed into his wrist, trapping his hand.

Acier stared down at him, holding the whaleglass knife, boot poised over his wrist.

"Going to use that?" Isabella managed. "Going to curse me, too?"

"This?" He lifted the knife. "I have no use for this." He turned and he flung it through the broken window. It flashed in the sunlight, spun once, and was gone.

"Enzo," Isabella said. Her voice was dry, a ghost of itself. Alois heard realization there, and horror. "Triune, please-"

Acier didn't stop. He drew a deep, shaky breath; his eyes slid shut, his body tense with strain, a muscle in his jaw fluttering as if in agony. He lifted his arm, hand splayed, palm facing the broken window and the bay beyond. Ghosts rose around them, a veil of whispers and silver light, power thrumming through the stones of Pavaloir Tower. Over open water, Alois heard the changing timbre of the dreadnought's engines, the high scream of machinery.

Silver flickered in the dreadnought's windows, on its deck. Soldiers. Ghost soldiers, taking their positions, taking aim: not ahead at Bellana's Arm, but back across the bay.

Toward the city.

"No-" Alois choked.

Enzo clenched his fist.

Alois's cry was trapped inside him. All he could do was kneel and watch as the dreadnought's bolt cannons blazed, and with the crackling shriek of loosed bolts and spellfire igniting, it fired its first shot on Pavaloir.

[thefangirlthatwaited]

The City of Dreams and Crow's (Chapter 7) - A Destiny Universe Story

Uldren Sov x Original Character

When I left my bathroom, my hair now neatly in a bun, I found Joylon sitting on my bed.

“Knock much?”

“Your door was open.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “That isn’t an open invitation.”

“Aurora,” I knew that tone. We might be twins, but that was the tone he used when he was about to play older brother slash father.

“Whatever you have to say, make it fast. I’m already running late.”

“Alright. I’ll cut straight to the point. Your nightmare.”

I stopped my hand on my Vestian Dynasty as I put it in its holster. “What about it?”

“You’re still shaking from it. What happened this time?”

“Really? It was a nightmare, Jol. I get them all the time. I don’t come barging into your room after you wake up screaming from one.”

Jolyon’s eyes narrowed. The Black Garden was a sore spot. “You’re deflecting, Aurora. This nightmare... It was different.”

I refused to meet his eyes because he wasn’t wrong. This wasn’t a typical nightmare. This was a vision. The only thing Jolyon wasn’t aware of was that I had visions. No one did. “I got stabbed, okay? The nightmare was vivid.” That was the understatement of the year.

“By who?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t real, Jol. Can you drop it, please?” 

He sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. Just be careful.”

“I will. Now, I gotta go. If I’m late, Mara will kill me.”

“No, she won’t.”

“You’re right. Her pain in the ass brother will.”

“Aurora...”

“Bye, Jol!” I waved him off as I took off to my ship. Flying away from Pallas, I felt bad that I was at Mom’s and Joylon’s throats today. I didn’t want to be, but their hovering and incessant questions were annoying. Jolyon was the one that was damaged, not me. Yeah, I took off and hid on a barren moon for a decade or two, but that was ancient history now. I was a Corsair and a damn good one too. Mara relied on me and my expertise about our borders and what lies beyond. 

I figured that’s what this meeting was about. A few weeks ago, I spotted a Fallen Armada approaching the Reef. It wasn’t the first time the Fallen passed by, but this was the first one who wasn’t trying to go around our borders. They looked to be going directly through it.

I wasn’t thrilled to be talking to Mara again so soon after my last meeting. With my vision and Riven’s words constantly playing in my head, I wanted to avoid our Queen as much as possible to avoid arousing suspicion. She knew of some of my powers but not all, and I’d like to keep it that way.

I landed in the Dreaming City and headed towards Mara’s meeting chamber. I picked up the pace, knowing I was already late and didn’t want to incur her wrath. Rounding the corner, I found somewhere waiting outside for me.

“You’re late.” Uldren scoffed. Of course, Uldren was waiting for me. Jolyon and Uldren were as thick as thieves, but given the choice, I would throw Uldren off a cliff. He was an arrogant asshole whose whole life was being the Queen’s Brother.

“I will be on time if you will let me through,” I growled, pushing past him. 

“When the Queen demands an audience, she expects you to be here earlier.”

I rolled my eyes before turning back to him. “I will keep that in mind, and when she asked me why I was late. I will tell her you held me up.” I glared at him through my helmet, and he glared back. 

“ULDREN,” a voice boomed. Uldren got on one knee right away, and I followed suit. “I hope you aren’t holding my Corsair back,” Mara asked as she approached us.

“Of course not, my Queen.” I stifled a snicker that I felt building in my chest.

“Aurora, you are just in time,�� Mara said, standing before me and holding out her hand. 

“I am sorry for being late.” 

“You are here now; that is all that matters. Come.” I stood, not looking back at Uldren, and followed the Queen into her Throne room.

Full Chapter on Ao3

[rubyreading]

Heroism & Morality Inside "The Dreaming City"

Michael Moorcock's "The Dreaming City" begins straightforward enough, setting the stage. The kingdom of Melniboné ruled the entirety of the world with an iron fist for ten thousand years, and it was known as the Bright Empire. Then, as time took its toll, the nation crumbled and was succeeded by other lesser empires. Though the Bright Empire’s denizens had mostly scattered, the last rightful heir to its throne remained alive as a wandering, moody warrior named Elric. Elric had long since abandoned his seat of power and left his home city of Imrryr to be dominated by an usurper, his cousin Yyrkoon. However, Elric had a change of heart during his time away from his homeland and decided to return to Imrryr with an armada of mercenary ships. His purpose was to slay his usurper kinsman and regain the love of his life that still remained trapped in the city, Cymoril. The mercenaries that came along with him were only there for the riches to plunder. Elric guided his fleet through a maze of caves that guarded the city of Imrryr, and battling defensive forces as he went, made his way to find Cymoril. Atop one of the city’s towers he was confronted by his cousin Yyrkoon, and they battled. Using his rune-forged blade Stormbringer, Elric slew Yyrkoon, but in a cruel twist of fate, Yyrkoon threw Cymoril onto the blade as well. Tortured by accidentally killing his love, Elric leaves with his armada of mercenaries as the city crumbled into flames behind them. They are suddenly attacked by Imrryr’s “Dragon Masters” as they flee, and facing certain doom, Elric uses his magic to save his own ship and its crew, but leaves the others to perish.

The first thing to note about Moorcock's tale is that Elric is not a typical fantasy protagonist. He is murderous, often cruel, and holds ambiguous loyalties, even using demonic powers to aid him in his pursuit of vengeance against his cousin. And yet, despite this, it is easy to cheer for him. While his methods are altogether hellish, his motivations are still very human and relatable. Revenge and hate, love and loss, are familiar concepts to us all, and Elric must withstand them all during his quest. It is altogether refreshing to see a protagonist act on these human feelings in such a violently unapologetic way, pursuing what he sees as an honorable goal and dismissing anyone else as an obstacle. Sometimes, reading fantasy, it can be tiring to watch and wait for the fish-out-of-water hero to become heroic enough to make any dent towards his long-term destination. Elric has already made up his mind out of the gate, and ruthlessly barrels through the “hero’s journey” towards a bloody conclusion.

The elephant in the room is, obviously, whether such a protagonist can even be viewed as a “hero” at all. While getting too hung up on semantics will get the conversation nowhere, it is worth noting that it all depends on what you mean by “hero.” Is it the protagonist’s actions, their goals, or both that make them a hero? Elric’s initial motivations for returning to the Dreaming City of Imrryr were a mixture of vengeance and love. The vengeance is arguably justified, considering Elric’s cousin Yyrkoon has no right to the throne and he is abusing his powers. But then Elric uses demonic powers along the way to drag his opponents down to hell with his blade Stormbringer. Love is also a heroic motivator, but then there is the uncomfortable fact that Cymoril is Yyrkoon’s sister, and in turn, also still Elric’s cousin. This adds a layer of complexity, because incest is horrendous, but clearly Cymoril should be saved from being a captive in the city. This is, in a sense, the entirety of Elric’s plight in miniature: every moral situation is painted gray, not black and white. Even at the story’s conclusion when he abandons his armada to save himself, Elric is racked with remorse: He sobbed on, not heeding them, great griefs racking his soul. Should he have remained with the others and perished? What is the right thing to do in all of these scenarios? While Elric’s atypical means to his ends offer an easy out to be labeled as a “villain,” Elric is one of the few fictional characters that truly does belong in an “anti-hero” subcategory.

A detail far too easy to overlook is the sword which Elric wields, Stormbringer. It is described as a rune-forged and chaotic black blade, with a will entirely its own. It consumes souls and thrives off bloodlust, and it offers an immediate and powerful tool for Elric’s own drive and spirit to make use of and dominate. Without the sword, Elric would never have gotten that far. Being a frail albino, without the faculties to even use all of his ancient magic, he is reliant on the blade and the strength that it offers. The sword’s own fury was used against him when Yyrkoon threw Cymoril onto the blade point, and Elric is doubly wounded by the tragedy. Not only did he grasp the weapon that killed her, but the blade itself, his old acquaintance, was the unfortunate means to such sorrow. At the story’s conclusion, after he abandoned his fleet and remained brooding on the only ship that was spared, he becomes introspective about his old friend. Perhaps in an attempt to separate the responsibility of Cymoril’s death from himself and to cast it solely onto the sword’s will, Elric throws Stormbringer into the ocean. He tries to break the bond he holds with it, but seeing the magical blade hovering halfway in the water, screaming malevolently, he retracts his decision. He reclaims the sword and the weakness he felt seeping into him after throwing it immediately retreats. Stormbringer is not merely a crutch for Elric: it is a necessity.

Michael Moorcock’s Dreaming City is a tale which stands out from many other short fantasy narratives. It offers a refreshingly original protagonist, deceptively subtle moral conflicts, and most of all, an enjoyably violent story that is worth telling. It certainly lacks the wholesome humanity of other fantasy like The Hobbit, but it allows for a peek into a harsher side of human nature that is well worth exploring as well.

Written by Ruby Carpenter.

Moorcock, Michael. “The Dreaming City.” The Big Book of Modern Fantasy: The Ultimate Collection, edited by Ann VanderMeer and Jeff VanderMeer, Vintage Books, a Division of Penguin Random House LLC, 2020, pp. 102–119.

[dracona11687]

A new beginning

When she was a child she dreamt of freedom. She dreamt of climbing mountains and fulfilling dreams. Elmira had dreamt of joining her friend Luda in everything. Elmira sighed from her bed. As she thought back to when she had been a foolish child. Back when she had been free and strong. Now each year she grew weaker and she cursed every labored breath of life. She struggled to take in. Her legs no longer strong enough to carry her and her days filled with many books. She hated it. She wanted to run, to walk, and most of all she a wanted to dance and fight. Her best friend Luda had left her and joined the army years ago. Luda had fulfilled her dream of joining the Lutveian armada. Elmira still had pictures of her best friend in her fatigues grinning from ear to ear and her scales shining in elaborate patterns. Elmira was jealous she would be the first to admit it. Who wouldn’t be when one was trapped in a bed while the other got to travel the universe defending her people and fighting for their laws. But today was the day she would finally prove her suspicions. That the servants were poisoning her for some reason. She could feel it every time she took the medicine. She would get weaker for a day then regain her strength a few hours later. 

“Ms, Elmira it’s time for your special medicine.” Yulper her personal servant said. 

Yulper was a tall young man only a few years older than Elmira and far more trusting. He would give her whatever the servants gave him. If they told him it was medicine then to him it was. 

“Thank you.” Elmira replied as she swallowed the poison into a storage pouch, her people had evolved, that resided at the back of her throat. Her scales while elaborately patterned lacked the glow it had years ago. Bright red had faded into a dull reddish pink and turquoise into a pale robin’s egg blue. The emerald green dots and lines that once shone like gems upon her flesh are now dull like jade. She was a shadow of her old self but she was made clever from years of reading and today she might just begin to glow again not right away. It would take awhile before she would escape this gilded prison. If she could escape further dosings. Her mother and father before their deaths had been scientists, scholars, and doctors of many fields. She’d had unrestricted access over the years regardless of what Bulington, the head butler, wanted. 

She was still head of the house regardless of her health. Elmira began to fake a slumber a her personal servant left her room. She waited until the door closed before spitting out her medicine into the waste disposal unite kept next to her bed. Afterwards she fell into a real slumber and awoke hours later feeling a little better than she had after she fallen asleep rather than weak as a kitten as she usually did. That night Elmira came to a decision. Over the weeks she began to get better. She gained the strength to stumble into the bathroom. She began to hide her improving coloration over the weeks with a fine white powder. She hid her improvement until she was healthy. Finally, months passed and she was ready to leave. She washed off the fine white powder. Revealing brightly colored and elaborate patterns with a few new colors added onto the old pattern. She knew she wouldn’t improve any further until she left the mansion. She would have to leave with no supplies though. Into the wilderness that surrounded the mansion that could be deadly. It would still be better than being poisoned by people that she was meant to trust. She was ever more grateful that she was a Lamatee and that the mansion wasn’t designed to keep Lamatee in. Well that and that her species evolved to fall from great heights. As Elmira fell from the window. She realized just how bad an idea jumping out the window had been. She remained silent as she fell though. She collapsed as she hit the ground but other than a few bruises she was unharmed her scales had hardened and brightened over the months. Just as she had hoped.

 She knew the bright violet patterns showed that she had been poisoned and recovered. The sharpness of the angles and thickness of the lines being a tell of how severe and how long the recovery took. Her body was covered in these patterns. Thin as a thread in some places and in others thick as her wrist. All of them a bright toxic violet. All of them telling her the truth. What mattered though was that she was free from her traitorous staff. She moved through the forest with silent stealth. Her limbs shook, her heart beat heavily in her chest, and in the darkness a dozen beings watched her for the moment they could pick her off. But at long last she was free. She knew now what had been done to her by the patterns upon her body. Elmira knew now the terror the people she had trusted had wrought upon her and though her heart burned with betrayal. Elmira would return to deal with the staff someday. At the moment though she would focus on leaving the traitors behind to live her life.  She moved forward until her limbs could no longer carry her. Then as the night passed the forest encompassed her until her still form was no longer seen. Elmira had no choice but to shut her eyes as a leaf covered vine moved slowly over them.

The Forest was silent as various creatures picked off the butler’s and maids who left the mansion to search for their missing mistress. They would get none of the fortune if she remains an impure beast. At least that had been what Bulington told them. But fewer chose to search for her as they heard the screams of those who left. After Elmira’s Parents had died Bulington had fired all but a few of the nonhuman residents. He had assumed control of the household in all but name and many believed he might have been siphoning off the Mistress’ inheritance. But that had been put to a stop rather forcefully when Elmira had been in decent health to fight back. Then she had fallen ill and he had insisted on giving her what they all thought to be an exotic medicine. After all none of them knew the difference between the patterns of sickness and the patterns of poison in Lamatee scale coloration. It was after that when the mistress had progressively grown weaker over the years. All but Bulington had no clue as to what was wrong. The man himself wasn’t talking. He did insist however; that Mistress Elmira be found at all cost. Only a few knew the truth of what was happening to her. That the “exotic” medicine was only a medicine to a few species. Bulington had made sure to fire them. He knew the girl possessed something different from her parents though. The girl had been far too wary of him even from his early years working for the family. Neither of her parents had the same scale colorations as her, but his former master and mistress hadn’t seen what he did to them. The forest responded to her in a way it never should. Roots would move to keep from tripping her and even the animals that ought to have eaten her would never bare fang or claw at her. In Bulington’s eyes she was a monster. Tonight only proved it. Noone could leave the house without being accosted.

As the sun rose upon the forest. The great entity peeled itself back from the small bone thin form of a girl barely in her teens. Her scales glimmered in the sunlight. Reds, greens, violets, and blues. It was as if her great serpent ancestor had descended upon them once more. The Lamatee child blinked awake at the gentle rumble of one of the forest’s inhabitants. A great horned liger. A gentle rumble rolled through it. the massive beast dropped a small antelope before her. Bright red-gold horns curled around it’s skull like a goats. The power behind it’s leonine shape visible for all. It eyed the girl’s frail form. Even the feathers that made up her hair showed how poor her health had been, but Lamatee tended to prefer their meat under done. So hopefully the ligress would not need to find a dragon to feed this cub. As brittle as the child appeared to be. 

She used her massive paw to nudge the child. After all, the forest wanted her to protect this child and she would. 

[dani-luminae]

Finally putting my thoughts together to review For You I'd Steal The Stars!

Jim: [makes a rival] made some new friends

Morph: turns into a mini version of the rival

I see you, treasure planet reference!

Ashla: I can appreciate you taking down the last of the notorious Captain Flint's crew.

Jim, thinking about how he let Flint (his accidental father figure) go free: yep. I took them all down alright.

Jim going out of his way to impress people makes sense to me. He's got a history of bad behaviour and comes from a working class family. He's feeling like he has to prove he belongs here with these people and not squander the opportunity. Natural progression of his character development from the movie. And Ashla knows what's up but she doesn't think he has anything to prove and I think that's a good start to their relationship! telling him he should know his own worth. And then later taking responsibility and making sure Jim doesn't get in trouble for anything she started. Making sure they're on equal footing. And even though they're rivals, they respect each other and mesh well together already! If they learn how to work together and get past whatever animosity they have for each other they'll be a dream team 🥰

I can see shades of Lia in these two already. 🥰😂

I can see the slow reveal of Ashla's background building up. I can't wait to see it! (Captain Sigalu? The mentions of Ashla's mother? Solosar not being on good terms with the armada? It's slowly coming together.) I also can't wait to see what mischief these two get up to to try and erase their bad marks from their records, I can tell it's going to be really entertaining and probably gonna get messed up somehow because these two have to learn to work together before things can go their way. Because if everything came easily there wouldn't be much of a story!

Fabulous first two chapters, I'm really excited to see how these two work together in the coming chapters!!! And also how the rest of the story will go!!! 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Yes the Treasure Planet reference!!!! Glad someone got it.

And lmao - uh, when Ashla finds out about Silver's escape (aided by Jim) she's just gonna sigh. It won't change anything about her perception of Jim because honestly, all but one of the crew is still incredibly impressive! And she knows a thing or two about getting attached to a parent figure in place of a bad/absent parent, so... she gets it. She doesn't approve, she just understands.

I'm really glad that Jim's new "gotta impress them all" attitude felt like a natural progression! I really didn't want For You I'd Steal the Stars to become another "Disney sequel that has to forget the main character's previous development," while also retaining enough of a character flaw from Jim. The journey to Treasure Planet took this hopeless kid and showed him that he has a future... now it's up to him to figure out how to grab on to that future.

And yet, Ashla sees him as he is. He doesn't need to impress her.

It is very important to me that in setting up these rivals-to-lovers that I established a sort of mutual respect in the first place. Jim knows he can't risk outright disrespect to his classmates, and Ashla sees right through him but also doesn't want to make it harder on him.

I'm glad you can see Lia in them already! Another slight challenge of writing a prequel is nailing these two characters with personalities that will evolve to become Lia's mother and father that we know in her time. I'm glad to hear I'm doing well!