#writing things into the wee hours of the morning isn't exactly the wisest decision of my life

[redgyl]

Hi. I was struck with Boatem Knights AU brainrot when I saw fanart for it on youtube when someone retroactively made music to go with it (Thriplerex's "Builders Of All That Extraordinary Municipality (B.O.A.T.E.M.) - V.S. Hermitcraft's Boatem Crew". I like it.), which lead me to Tumblr. Then I sawn what was on here already, saw the writing prompt "Scar injures Grian in Vex form," and a story started forming in my mind. So, I had to actually make an account just so I can share my ideas.

What Applestruda and other creators on here have made is wonderful! I don't want to step on any toes, and I do not wish to be the newbie who knows not the meaning of etiquette. I hope that some of my ideas can be canon, but if not, I hope they're still good as alternative, harmless fan-stuff while still respecting the original creators.

Anyway, here is the first chapter of my story inspired by what everyone else has already made. Enjoy!

Chaper 1

The poor ogres were dead.  They just didn’t know it yet.

Hunched over to ten feet tall, lazily holding tree logs for clubs, the two green-skinned, filthy monsters chuckled over the knight standing alone in front of them.  They laughed even harder to see the other four knights retreat back up the trail.

“Heh heh, your friends are smart,” one said.

“Heh heh, they left you to die,” said the other.

“You look delicious.”

“We’ll eat you raw.”

The knight, who wore relatively little armor, kept smiling up at them, his dark hair turning a glowing white and his tanned skin turning blue.  A cat-shaped, glowing ghost purred on his shoulder.  It mewed and rubbed on his cheek.

The knight, whose name was Sir Scar, laughed back at the ogres, putting down his crossbow and ignoring his sword.  “You know what they say,” he said, his dark eyes turning white.  The cat jumped down from his shoulder and disappeared into the brush.  The knight switched his stance into a low crouch, fingers hooked like claws and held back, ready to swing forward.

“They didn’t leave me,” he said. ”They got out of my way!”

~~~~~~~~

“And then I beat it over the head with its own arm!” Scar finished as he and his four companions rode their steeds along the road through the woods, shifting his crossbow back to its spot over his shoulder.  He was back to normal: dark hair, dark eyes, easy-going smile, scarred face.  “I always wanted to do that.”

Sir Grian giggled. “That’s so cliche’,” he teased.  “Of course you’d want to do it.”

“You really should have stuck around to see it,” Scar teased back, knowing full well that they couldn’t.

“Sure, Scar, sure,” Grian played along.  “The only time you’re not dramatically tripping over your own feet because you’re feral?  Love to see it sometime, so long as I’m out of reach.”

“You could with those wings, you know,” Scar replied.  “Why don’t you fly more?”

Grian made a face.  “You fly in Vex form, too.  Besides, armor’s heavy,” he explained, tapping his chest plate.  He was an odd-looking person, with a plain, round face and plain, brown hair and an ordinary, sensible taste of fashion, but also with bright red macaw wings sprouting from his back and another matching, silly set from the sides of his head.

The ghostly cat on Scar’s shoulder mewed with jealousy.  “Oh, sorry, Jellie,” Scar said, scratching the pretty little thing behind the head.  It went back to purring.  It was always reassuring to see the blue cat there.  The little familiar helped Scar control the Vex enchantment, keeping the monster inside soothed until it either overflows with bloodlust or is intentionally called on.  Only then does she leave, making space for the beast.  

Scar’s next words were toward Grian, even as he kept cuddling his cat.  “Maybe you should have a boob window, like me.”

Grian laughed.  “I’d sooner die.”

“You know, Grian,” Scar said in his smoothest voice, the tone he uses whenever he's trying to swindle a customer. "You're a reasonable man-bird. Do you know just how light and easy to handle a boob window is? It is like having wings, wings for your chest."

As the two of them continued their friendly banter, the pair of traveling companions behind them eavesdropped.  One was a slight man with a handsome mustache and meticulous hair, his dashing appearance comically ruined by a single clover sprouting from his head.  He carried a rocket launcher — a weapon unheard of in this age of magic.  His eyes danced with amusement at Grian and Scar’s conversation.  Beside him rode Lady Pearl, large scythe casually held in her hand, her eyes rolling at Scar’s current attempt to sell the “boob window.”  She was a beautiful woman with a couple of feather-like antenna coming from her head, her armor white and bright.  

“I’d recommend calling it something else,” Pearl said in a low tone to the man riding beside her, “because ‘boob window’ sounds so stupid, but I don’t want to help him be more convincing.”

“Me, neither,” chuckled the man, Sir Mumbo.  “But I can appreciate his persistence.”

Way up in the front, Sir Impulse smiled.  He was a big, solid man with a friendly face and yellow on his armor, a large sword bound to his back. He had found himself a bunch of good friends, he thought.  They each had a great sense of humor, and each was a good-hearted knight, which made for good company.  That was a blessing, since they would be stuck together for the next few days.

In the back of his mind, Impulse worried about the wisdom of intentionally using Scar’s Vex form.  Yes, they all knew what Scar was when they accepted him as a knight.  Sure, Scar said that the bloodlust would grow and he had to just let it out so he could stay in control, and, sure, it was handy against big monsters like ogres or trolls or minotaurs.  But Impulse wondered, were they treating this power too casually?

It would be a few hours yet before they set up camp for the night.  They won’t be out of the woods for a couple of days, at least.  Then, they could be home.

~~~~~~~

Far, far away, a good, kind, beloved king received a gift.  

That gift exploded.  When the smoke cleared, that king had been turned to stone.