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astrodances · 3 years

Note

Can I request Penumbra just away from the city reflecting on the situation she found herself in only to see a ship crashing on the moon's surface and rushing off thinking it's Della, but only to find Donald. Then, resolving to keep him safe from Lunaris, while filling him in on the invasion plan.

Hey dear anon! Don't know if you're still around, but I finally wrote something for this prompt from like two years ago! And I hope you don't mind, but I deviated slightly from the prompt to make it canon-compliant (a.k.a. Penny doesn't get to Donald first). Thank you for the prompt though, and I hope you enjoy! :)

AO3 link here!

_____

Sea of Treachery

It doesn't take Penumbra long to find her spear after she confronts Lunaris about his true intentions. She knows the lay of the land, especially the perimeter around Tranquility, better than anyone, and her spear juts out easily from the surrounding rocks when she finally spots it, the metal glistening in brilliant sunshine.

She should be proud that she landed the throw all the way from her garage. Instead, she's just relieved to see Della's repairs on the shaft still holding strong.

Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't so helpless after all.

Yet instead of going back to Tranquility, Penumbra finds herself meandering the outskirts of her city, until she reaches the drawing of Della she made before on a rock. The crack she made with her spear is still there, of course, its path piercing Della's chalky hair and arm. Penumbra traces the fracture with her hand, letting it linger here and there.

Where there was anger before she now only feels remorse. She fell for Lunaris' trap. She flipped the switch and sent Della home early. She put her own people's lives, and most certainly those of the Earthers, of Della's people, in the hands of a very dangerous man who now has the key for his plans with the manual.

With a startling swiftness and a ferocious cry, Penumbra twists about and tosses her spear directly into the rock behind her. The resulting splintering sound is satisfying, but not as much as the image of her general's face that her mind projects onto the rock beneath her spear. She knows it won't help her current dilemma, but she can't deny that it takes some of the sting out of the betrayal.

The next two Earth rotations turn out to be one of the most exhilarating times of Penumbra's life, if her heart rate's anything to go by, but she would gladly take on all of the Moon's beasts herself instead of this feeling.

Lunaris has been quick to rally the Moonlanders into beginning the construction of his fleet of ships, and they've bought into it, leaving Penumbra no choice but to look like she's supporting the effort, too, like a good, loyal second-in-command. But even with the facade, she's certain that Lunaris can practically hear her thoughts, her doubts, especially since their little talk after Della's departure, and at any moment, he'll catch her for it.

The only respite she can find is in going back out to Della's rock whenever she can. "For target practice," she tells the others, yet she doesn't tell them exactly where. Better to let them think she's choosing random targets to keep her wits sharp, for the glory of the Moon, and all that.

At the very least, Lunaris seems to buy it, or he's too busy with his new regime to really care what she does with her free time. Whatever the case, she'll take it.

Very little concentration goes into her practice while she's out at the rocks.

Penumbra's been an expert in spear combat since her youth, so most of her tosses turn into a show of strength, both of her own and of her spear's repaired state. (At this point, she refuses to properly fix it, and thus lose Della's handiwork.) But more importantly, it keeps her hands busy so she can think, which is probably why she doesn't notice how Della's rock has turned from target to spectator, and how most of her throws tend to be in the direction of Tranquility.

In the solitude of the rocks, one clear truth comes to light.

She has to stop the invasion. She has to stop Lunaris.

She doesn't know how exactly, and with Lunaris having the upper hand in pretty much every regard, her work is certainly cut out for her. But she has to try, or at least warn Della, if she can.

Della.

Just three rotations ago, Penumbra would've been ready to wage war on the Earther herself, fueled by lies and a sense of her planet's superiority, all in the name of protecting her people.

But now...

Now she's just hoping that she can save both their worlds. That Della won't ever even have to know that everything she worked so hard to return to was almost lost again because of an error in judgment.

She hopes that at best, she can stop the invasion and use the new ships as Della still thinks they'll be used–for the Moonlanders to come visit Earth. For the chance for two old roommates to get together again.

But at least, she'll be able to destroy the ships and the plans, even if it means never seeing her friend again.

Now...

Now she's...seeing the Spear of Selene?

Penumbra rubs her eyes with one hand, the other grasping her spear as she stops in her tracks on her way back to her throwing area. Another glance up into the void of space and there's no doubting that flash of red tumbling down to the surface of the Moon. It makes impact a few seconds later, a cloud of lunar dust rising in its wake that can't be a good sign for whoever's on board.

She can't see the crash site from where she's at, but it's out towards what her people call the "islands" of the wastes, from what she can tell.

She's running towards it before she can stop herself, sparing a glance at her drawing of Della on the way. "Oh, Della, that better not be you," she tells the rock.

It can't be her, because if it was, Lunaris would take her prisoner, and use her to propel his cause further, to prove that she is an Earth spy with plans to invade the Moon.

But it must be her, because Penumbra could see the patches of gold used to repair the ship during its descent, and there's no way that another Earther could've already made it here in the Spear, for whatever reason. (She refuses to believe that this is beginning of the second wave of an invasion. There's no way Lunaris was telling the truth, not after what she'd seen and heard from him personally.)

Confusion and concern war with each other in Penumbra's mind as the ship finally starts coming into view. There's smoke and lingering dust and scorched gold.

This doesn't make sense.

Unless there was an actual malfunction (which Penumbra will never forgive herself for even falsely mentioning if it turns out to be the case), Della should be home with her family, meeting her three boys that she did all of this for, that she gushed about as her main reason for loving Earth. She wouldn't want to come back here, not like this and not so soon, unless...

Penumbra pushes forward ever faster, her spear at her side and conviction in her heart.

She has to reach Della first, before Lunaris or any other Moonlander finds her. Let them find the wreckage later and think what they will.

She has to keep Della safe, no matter her intentions, and together, they'll stop Lunaris.

At last, the entirety of the Spear of Selene and its crash site of a crater come into view, but what she sees next causes her to duck behind a nearby rock on the crater's rim.

She's too late. Lunaris and his guards have arrived, and they have indeed taken a prisoner.

But it's not Della, thank her lucky star.

Penumbra peeks out from her hiding spot, low to the ground, and tries to identify the newcomer. He has a white hat and black clothing, a far leap from the Earth garb she's seen so far, but his face seems familiar. When he finally speaks, and one of Della's descriptions of her family comes to mind, it hits her.

"Donald?"

#DuckTales #Penumbra #Della Duck #Donald Duck #Lunaris #a hint of #dellumbra #my fanfics

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another-sonic-blog · 4 years

Note

Metal Sonic falling in love with Blaze ? :3

Unexpected

Metal X Blaze (2k)

It was by a pure miracle that Metal Sonic could still remember what happened before he landed in the Sol Dimension. It was just like every day, he was fighting Sonic the Hedgehog who had turned super to defeat him. He didn't blame him, after all, Dr. Eggman had implemented new arsenal and equipment that made him an incredible threat to the blue bur. Nonetheless, he was once again defeated and sent to another dimension he wasn't didn't know about. Two thoughts were crossing his mind, revenge, and depression. The robot even doubted if he could feel such a thing but he was definitely feeling something. It seemed like no matter how much he tried, he was never able to defeat that blue rat. Metal Sonic was immobile, he couldn't move his metallic body as it lay on the jungle's grass. He heard footsteps coming closer and closer to him and in a moment, he was being picked up uncarefully by an unfamiliar silhouette. They walked for miles throughout the jungle and Metal felt such humility for him to be carried on the stranger's shoulder. He couldn't see the stranger who was carrying him and he swore revenge in this person.

. . .

When she wasn't saving the world or her kingdom, Blaze the Cat was just like any other princess with responsibilities. Sometimes she wished that she was born into another family, anything but royalty. However, the thought quickly went away whenever she remembered just how blessed she been in life. Being a princess had its positives and negatives. Nonetheless, there was always a great burden she must carry. She needed to protect her kingdom, which she loved deeply, but sometimes she wished she could take it slower once in a while.

Things would be easier too if the people around her would just support her. Her guards, knights, and royal counselors would always advise her to stay away from danger. That there was no need for her to go into the battlefield herself, that she could defend her kingdom inside the castle. Of course, she never listened to them and she always found herself sneaking out from time to time to save the world ... and others.

Today there was not much to do and Blaze was just in her throne, waiting for something interesting to happen.

And it seemed like Chaos heard her prayers.

Her White Knights came inside the throne room, the General was carrying something metallic in his shoulders. They all bow down as they placed Metal Sonic in front of the Blaze.

"Princess ... We found this robot on the insides of Lost Jungle," said the General of the White Knights. He was a black young wolf who was named James, he was one of the few people that Blaze's trusted. Blaze stood up from her throne and she walked down the stairs she mentally cursed the dress that she was wearing and prohibited from getting down quicker. Her heart began to raise as she noticed that his robot an uncanny similarity to Sonic the Hedgehog. She was aware that he wasn't Sonic, the past memories that they shared suddenly crossed her mind. The thought that this may be an adventure excited her but at the moment there was more something more important to attend.

"General James, please take him to the closest mechanic," Blaze said as she inspected the robot up and down. "Tell them to please fix him as soon as they can, I will be vising as soon as they finish."

"Yes my Princess," said James as he took Metal Sonic into his shoulders again. For Metal Sonic, it seemed like things were going for the better. It was good that he played it dead, that way he was going to get fixed and as soon as they do, he will take his revenge. He just needed to stay calm for a little longer. The metallic hedgehog quickly eyed to his savior, a purple cat. Thanks to her, he will be repaired and have his revenge. For now, he will watch her closely as her punishment will be less painful than the others.

. . .

Everything was going accordingly until the mechanic began to take away Metal's arsenal and weaponry. The blue robot watched as his body became that of a normal robot. He felt pathetic, like a low life and he thought if he could ever take his revenge now. His plans needed readjustments, he has to go back to his world and look for Dr. Eggman to make the proper reparations he craved for so much. It was early morning when the princess Blaze when to the mechanic to see if the reparation of the robot was finished. She had snicked out of the castle without her knights, and with a lot of effort she had finally reached 'Sol Mechanics.' Alejandro, a young brown dog was the main mechanic in the shop. As she entered the place she noticed cars and motorcycles and even small boats. The shop reeked of oil and sweat, the purple car didn't mind but she would be lying if the smell of sweat didn't bother her at all. A few seconds passed as Alejandro appeared bowing immediately.

"There's no need of that," Blazed said as she moved her hands from side to side. "We have known each other for a long time anyway."

"Your highness-"

"Blaze is fine."

Alejandro smiled as she straightens himself. He cleaned his hands on the brown mantel around his waist. "Well then, Blaze ... Please, follow me."

The purple cat nodded as she followed the dog, they entered a new room where Metal Sonic was hanging up, attached on chains. Alejandro was quick to release him and Metal Sonic felt to the cold ground. A few seconds passed in which Blaze doubted if he worked or not. Suddenly, Metal Sonic's red eyes turned one and he stood up quickly. What was he supposed to do now? He had no arsenal, no weapons ... what should he do in these circumstances?

"He had a lot of weapons in him and I took them out for your safety," said Alejandro. "Poor him ... He must have been used for evil reasons. He doesn't even have vocal devices on him."

"Can't you put him one?" asked Blaze as she looked up and down at the metal robot. He indeed looked too much like Sonic the Hedgehog.

"His metal parts are very unique, it's a type of metal we don't have in this world I believe," Alejandro looked over at Blaze. "Even if I wanted to put a vocal device on him I can't ... I am sorry."

Blaze walked over Metal Sonic and with a small smile on her face, she said. "It's alright ... I am sure his actions will speak louder than words."

. . .

Metal didn't know what to do now. He was smart. However, as from what it looks like the purple cat was the princess of wherever he was. It was good to stay closer to whoever had power. Now they were walking on the depths of the jungle and the cat looked like she was looking for something.

"You look like someone I know," Blaze said as she looked back to the metal robot, following her. "I wonder why you look so much like him."

Metal's mind quickly went to his number one enemy and again, thoughts of destruction crossed his mind.

"I want to show you something," Blaze quickly pulled out a green Chaos Emerald and for a small moment, she could have sworn that robot's eyes shone. "This one appeared yesterday, near the place my knights found you ... If we find all seven, you can go back to your world correct?"

Metal Sonic nodded, maybe this wasn't so bad. He could use the Chaos Emeralds' energy and his inner locator to create an instant teleportation system within him.

"I have certain powers that allow me to feel Chaos Energy, it will be easy to find them ... My name is Blaze by the way," she said. "What's yours?"

The princess felt completely stupid because even if the robot had a name, he couldn't say it. To her surprise, the blue robot kneeled and using his metallic hand he grabbed letters on the jungles' grass. After Metal Sonic finished, he stepped back allowing Blaze to fully appreciate his writing. The purple cat smiled as his name let out her lips.

"Metal," Blaze said. "It's nice ... it suits you."

At that moment, Metal felt something connect to his inner system. Like a circuit had broken and it made his system shook a little. He wonders what it was and why it happened the moment the princess said his name.

. . .

More moments like that happened. Moments in which Metal didn't know what was those feelings raising in his insides. He thought he was only capable of two feelings. Anger and admiration. Anger because no matter what he did, the blue rat would always win. Admiration his creator Eggman, who has so smart as to invent something as perfect as him. However, when he was with princess Blaze, something went off. It was as if his system went crazy every time she would smile. In one instance, the purple cat had touched Metal Sonic's metallic hand and he thought he might explode right there and then. For the following days, Metal Sonic would stay at Blaze's castle as a guest and he was treated like never before. Knights and generals admired him and asked him to teach him all he knew about fighting. They even admired his knowledge of different languages and he helped translate various ancient books. It was been three weeks since Blaze and he had started to look for the Chaos Emeralds and today they had found the last one. Now everything that was left to do was for Metal to include them in his system. He could become Super Metal Sonic and go back to his world.

But that could wait ... for now.

He couldn't leave without saying goodbye to the princess who has been so kind to him. It was strange even for him because he knew that if he was in any other circumstance, he would have destroyed this whole place. Now, he couldn't bring himself to destroy something that Blaze loved so much.

'Love' ... Was that what he was feeling? But how? Was he even capable to feel such a thing?

He entered Blaze's room. She was in her balcony as she looked at the stars. The purple cat felt his presence and with a warm smile, she greeted him.

"I am guessing you are here to say goodbye," Blaze said as she saw Metal walk closer to her. Metal Sonic nodded. He appreciated the cat's features and he thought if this was what Mobians called to be 'beautiful.'

"I want to thank you ... You have made my days happier. Sadly, we have to part now," Blaze said. There was a small part in Metal that told him to stay in this world as long as he wanted. However, he knew he couldn't. There was a lot of unfinished business back at his world. He made the mental promise that once he defeats Sonic once and for all, he will come back to this place and have the rest he needed. To spend time with the purple cat that had intrigued him so much. Maybe, if he spends out more time with her, he would be able to understand these strange feelings he had for her.

For now, nothing matters. Metal and Blaze share a look before their attention went back to the stars. They didn't need to say much, they enjoy the calmness of each other presence. Without Blaze noticing, Metal eyed her from time to time making sure her face would be engraved in his memory forever. Once he finally did, Metal knew that he would look back at this footage the moments he needed it the most. It was strange but looking at Blaze made him feel like he could do anything. Even defeat the blue rat that looked like him.

It was a long night where no other words were share but the sentiments were there. Metal would be gone by dawn but the unexpected feelings he had for Blaze were staying with him forever.

. . . . . . .

A/N: This was such an interesting couple to write about! Thank you so much for the prompt! It was nice to explore their relationship and the characters. I hoped you liked this.

I am working on the next story prompt, everyone please be a little bit more patient. Thank you!

#Metal Sonic #Blaze the Cat #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfic #sonic fanfiction

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capmerthur · 5 years

Text

THE BODY SWAP

Summary:

It's all in the title :) Somewhere end S1 (after Labyrinth, but pre Morte). In a land of myth, and a time of magic, Arthur awakes inside Merlin's body (and no, not in that way). Alternating Merthur POV, bonus Gaius, bit of George. Also: this is ENTIRELY Bradley's fault. I fell upon THIS (https://capmerthur.tumblr.com/post/181843084615/mr-merlin-wecouldhavehaditall); and honestly? It just needed to be written... Ready? Here we go...

I. (ARTHUR POV)

Arthur awakes; lying on his back - unusual - and rolls over automatically.

He surprisingly falls, down, hard; and jerks fully awake now - on the floor, near a so very tiny bed, tangled in an unknown blanket (harsher than his standards, even while on errands, he can't help but notice).

In disbelief, he eyes his surroundings...

Where is he? Has he been abducted?

Think, he admonishes himself - trying to clear his mind; to remember what must have happened, to guess who has dared to commit such an act, and, most important of all right now: Find a way out.

His eyes then suddenly meet Merlin's, and relief surges through him somehow - before his anxiety returns; and double: because poor faithful, loyal Merlin has obviously been taken too; and it's Arthur's fault - he must have failed to save them both from being taken, even though he cannot remember anything...

Except when Arthur reaches out to Merlin, he realizes with fright but indeniable certainty that Merlin is in fact a reflection in a mirror; and worse: *HIS* reflection!?

It his NOT his hand indeed that is stretching out in front of him; NOT his clothes on his person; and definitely NOT his own hair falling upon his eyes, as he notices the black strings in his vision range...

Arthur is dumbstruck. He sees Merlin's mouth shaping a silent O, and he sees the dread in Merlin's eyes... except they ARE - he feels - *his* mouth, and *his* eyes; and everything is just plainly wrong, and plainly impossible - but undeniably REAL.

He is... Merlin? Or better said, *inside* Merlin? How can such a thing have even come to be?

Sorcery, Arthur understands with horror: Camelot is under attack!

But now armed with the knowledge of his predicament, Arthur realises he is actually in Merlin's bedroom. He's been in here before, once; and he recognises it all now.

So. Not abducted. All things considered, that still counts as something, right...

And, as it surely doesn't feel as if Merlin is still somewhere in his own head too while Arthur is inside of it, well... Maybe? Logically? Merlin might then be in return inside his own body?

Arthur suddenly finds himself praying for this to be true. It would be for the best, if Merlin was in his body - if they were the only ones concerned by this unnatural situation; because what if *everyone* was awaking inside someone else's body this morning? That would be... precarious - the general panic leaving Camelot completely vulnerable to whoever must have plotted this? The worst though would be if the one responsible for this was right now in control of his body, and acting as Crown Prince to do, well, evil deeds... So yes, you bet Arthur truly wants to find Merlin to be the one inside his own body when he finally finds it.

Arthur jumps on his feet, ready for action. Luckily (even though Arthur feels a bit guilty, as he notices his armour in pristine state against the opposite wall - apparently Merlin has been polishing it late into the night then) Merlin hasn't bothered to undress before falling asleep.

So. First thing first: he has to go to his chamber.

Picking some weapon on the way for good measure, you bet ...

/ / /

Simply walking the few paces to open the door though turns out to be a challenge. His limbs are too long, and dangly; it feels like he has two left feet, and he has to try thrice before actually getting a grip on the handle - because he isn't used to this body, of course - but maybe it is truly NOT Merlin's fault if he falls over his own feet that often after all...

Gaius is already out - hopefully looking for herbs and not wandering out of his mind... Arthur would have preferred to be able to test right away his theories about how many people were affected by the damn body change; but unfortunately, it would have to wait some more.

The corridors are empty too, except for a stray black cat who walks at his side a full minute, which has Arthur questioning himself about asking to the cat if he *is* Merlin - because Merlin HAS to be somewhere, right, as he obviously isn't where he should be to start with; but then the cat takes another turn... Arthur feels stupid for worrying so much about his silly manservant - but he cannot deny that he definitely will worry less only after having indeed finally found said silly manservant.

Arthur relaxes slighthly though when he enters the kitchen: people are working as usual, apparently not in shock, apparently in their right bodies. He picks up the first tray he finds, along with an extra knife that he hides in his pocket for good measure.

He tries to put on a confident grin as he walks (with the most assurance he can muster in this awkward-feeling body) towards the guards at his bedroom's door - and can only hope it will look the same as usual to them. They let him pass without trouble, and Arthur isn't sure it's a good thing. On the one hand, he *doesn't* doubt Merlin - he simply, intrinsically doesn't; and would never want him to feel like he did if his guards were to search him whenever he was about to enter his chamber. On the other hand... well, it isn't Merlin right now entering his chamber, with knifes at the ready... This time, it's only him; but what if it happens again, and if the one then inside Merlin's body has ill intentions...

Deciding not to dwell on this for the time being, Arthur opens the inside door to his bedroom, hoping to find Merlin doing whatever Merlin always does, but preparing for a fight, if need be...

II. (MERLIN POV)

Merlin awakes as if in a cocoon; literally. He is surrounded by softness, flush, warmth; he cannot remember ever feeling so comfortable - and the world can wait for just another few seconds before he opens his eyes, right... Merlin wriggles, shifting on his back, sighing softly as he nestles some more into the cushions...

When Merlin awakes for the second time - culpability sinking in as he realizes he has overslept - his eyes open to a Pendragon red canopy he would recognize even among hundreds. Merlin freezes: what the hell is he doing, sleeping IN ARTHUR'S BED?!

Merlin sits upright at once - blankets falling all around him to reveal that he wears ARTHUR'S NIGHTGOWN too ?!

Whaaaaaaaat?!

This... just DOESN'T make any sense. The last thing he can remind is sitting on his own bed, polishing the last bit of Arthur's armour before letting himself fall down to sleep (*AN). He surely doesn't recall walking to Arthur's chamber, and even less...

Oh my... What is Arthur going to think? And come to think of it - true panic now creeping down on Merlin at that thought: *WHERE* is Arthur to start with?

His attention is drawn out right then by Arthur calling out his name (Merlin feels relief, no matter his current embarrassing situation) - in one of those thousands yet unmistakably always Arthurian ways to say his name: a myriad of moods and meanings in those simple two syllables - the voice sounding odd though this morning (is Arthur sick?), and tensed (well, he just found his manservant in *his* bed, that might explain it!).

Merlin turns to face his sovereign, trying to feel less self conscious because he mustn't look guilty, while wishing for inspiration, and buying time until it hits: "There is actually a perfectly valid explan-"

But it is NOT Arthur he sees: it is... himself? His breath catches as 'utter confusion' gets a new meaning, you bet...

At the same moment, Merlin notices suddenly just how *broad* his chest actually is, and how he's wearing a very particular ring around one finger of what's NOT his hand, and how *blond* hair is falling upon his eyes... And still nothing makes sense; but at least it *does* explain how he awoke in Arthur's bed in Arthur's clothes: he *is* Arthur?; and... Arthur... is him? MUST be him. He has been calling him right the right way, right?!

"Arthur?" Merlin barely dares to breathe out, both in wonder and in plea (because Arthur CANNOT be gone - the fear and pain and simple *impossibility* of such a concept slicing through Merlin's mind like a knife).

There is a bright smile then appearing on his face - a smile that doesn't entirely look like his own though - "Yes, Merlin. It's me," followed by a relieved sigh: "And it's you". And, despite the shock about them having apparently switched bodies (?!), Merlin can't help but feel warm all over - because Arthur (and yes, it is so clearly Arthur, even in HIS body!) has apparently been worried about him.

(*AN) Headcanon time :

Merlin uses magic to clean Arthur's armour in the beginning, indeed. And he still uses magic for most of the chores, as much as he can, of course (washing clothes, mending clothes, emptying chamber pots, sweeping fireplaces, preparing baths, refreshing beds, cleaning floors, cleaning everything, really (except for mucking the stables, because there are always others around, grrrr). But he quickly grows nearly *maniac* about Arthur's food (picking at it as a way to make sure it's not poisoned etc...) and about Arthur's armour: it's one of Arthur's protections - so you bet Merlin definitely cleans and polishes and repairs and oils the leather ligaments that hold it together and EVERYTHING the hell out of it, with extra ardor and fervor, with his own two hands, all the while continuously trying to put on it any protecting spells he ever finds, and repeating those over and over at each occasion...

Also: I know mirrors were not so advanced at the time... But Merlin has an enhanced one, after all he has magic right... And on a side note, I'm never going to be over Arthur's priority-thinking (I'm in trouble = CAMELOT IS UNDER ATTACK (babyyyy let me hold you - being Camelot Prince/King is NOT your only worth) and Merlin's priority-thinking (what the hell is happening = WHERE THE HELL IS ARTHUR (babyyyy let me hold you - your devotion to The (brave, kind, admirable (shut up Merlin)) Prat doesn't have to mean that you always must come second (and a bit self-preservation cannot be harmful)) *SIGH* I just love those two idiots so much !!!

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin fic #merthur fic #merlinfic #bbcmerlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #the once and future fic #the body swap #my own two spells #text #fanfic

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fakesurprise · 5 years

Text

Upgrades and Repairs

This high above the heart of the city the streets are scarred from the rain, the clouds a riot of wounded colours I ignored as I walked down the road. The instructions would have been vague to anyone else. The streets below spire wasn’t a vague location in itself, but the only direction I’d been given to find my point of contact had been to find one who doesn’t belong even though no one belonged up here. Lived here, yes, but every building creaked against the untempered winds and most everyone was chasing hunger or consumed by it.

I paused at untempered, not that anyone gave me grief while walking down the road. When you’re seven feet tall and almost as broad with muscles more real that work, people do that. But even so: it said a lot about my mental state that I was using words from school that I thought life had drummed out of me. I used the pause to scan the streets around me, ignoring the familiar itching in my eyes as I tried to access blocked tech.

I moved slowly, scanning everything. Assessing threats without conscious awareness half the time. This time I made myself aware. What was wrong, what stood out? Find the pattern and you find the solution.

A dozen young men sauntered down the street with knock-off impact rifles, moving too close together to be veterans. Four deliverypeople on speed cycles wove through the crowd. Families of various stages of coping with the fringes of the city huddled together for imagined protection. A couple of tourists from the city proper, smart enough to have hired thugs to guard them. One person whose entire body was covered in pale fur chatting to a cyborg whose leg they were repairing. Two people singing whose throats cast the sound over half the street. A couple of older cyborgs quietly discussing a trade deal in one side street. A handful of people buying happiness at inflated prices from furtive dealers with second-grade drugs at best.

Nothing unusual for any city, though the dealers would have been arrested in the heart of it.

I settled on a boy in a side street sitting by himself. No one begs for money up here, but he carried no weapons and no one had shaken him down for anything useful. I moved closer. He was wearing a thin cloak that didn’t hide scarring over a pale stomach.

Not a veteran, but a victim. Always more of those than vets after any war. Electricity raced through the air around him and I stopped a couple of feet away at the crackle of energy.

Electromesh grafted into him. His eyes were wide and moved about tracking nothing but the glint of cameras was in them if you knew what to look for: they were recording everything around him. I winced at that more than the mesh. Kid had sold his eyes to someone. Probably the same someone monitoring the mesh so that he didn’t burn his brain out using it. The boy stood stiffly, left side of his body a little slack. Nasty things, electromeshes. Protecting you but also putting enough juice through your body to fry nerves, then cybernetics and finally your own brain. That the eyes were working said whoever was controlling the mesh was doing a damn better job using it than the kid had.

“Stevens. I believe you are expecting me.”

The boy nodded, not blinking. His voice was soft, almost as sexless as the rest of him appeared to be. “I believe so. If you would follow me?” he said, and walked back past me onto the road.

I frowned. His lips didn’t quite match the words, the voice definitely synthetic. Most people wouldn’t have noticed that but I haven’t been most people in a long time. Three years that were technically five, but it always feels like it was longer. I had options, but none that made sense as much as the obvious so I simply followed.

The boy moved quickly, paused briefly at intersections with his face to the wind, walked a precise number of steps, turned down a side streets. I followed slowly as he led away from the hustle of streets through a tangle of side alleys, our path gently sloping upward until we reached a rooftop. The boy moved slowly to the edge of the room, rapping two thin pieces of wood that connected this roof to the one across a street carefully and then walked swiftly across them. I followed, one breaking beneath me but a jump carried me the rest of the way before the first piece broke.

The boy froze at the noise. “You – you broke the bridge?” He whispered, and his voice cracked with fear.

“One board, yes. Sorry.”

The boy licked his lips. “There is a rope ladder as well later on.”

I swore softly but followed him without another wolf. Two scrambles over rooftops, a couple of leaps he’d memorized and we were at a thin rope ladder that led up to a stairwell. Higher in the city that most anyone lived. The boy scrambled up the ladder easily by feel.

I followed, and he gasped as I was beside him a moment later, the stairwell shuddering under us.

“You leapt that high?” the boy asked as electricity arced over his skin. His voice hissed with the current and he fell silent.

I waited for him to calm; an electromesh might not kill me but I couldn’t afford for it to fry any of my systems. “I did; I am too heavy to climb that rope. Can we continue?”

He nodded once, leading me along the stairwell to a large recessed doorway. It was a good twelve feet across and almost as tall. Presumably for vehicles docking once upon a century.

The interior has been a viewing chamber once upon a time but the windows were all sealed over. There was a small kitchen unit to the left of us, one mattress beside it along with clothing in a neat pile, a small shower and sink beside that along with a second kitchen unit that was almost new. Everything else appeared rebuilt and refurbished, even the mattress being at least second-hand. The other walls were a controlled clutter of tables, cupboards and storage for thousands of salvaged items in various states of being repaired or scavenged. The centre of the room was dominated by a floating medchair, the inhabitant an older-seeming woman without hair. One human arm, one older-model cybernetic arm and where cybernetic legs had been were connections attaching her to the chair proper.

“Stevens, is it?” she asked, the chair moving closer.

I nodded.

“Well.” She touched the side of the chair with her right hand, her cybernetic left one slower to move. “A scan, if you will be so kind?”

I waited as the chair scanned me. The woman sat back in it slowly, the cybernetic arm flicking off.

“Astonishing. How long were you in stasis training for?”

“Two years.”

The woman blinked a few times. “Two – that explains the –.” She moved closer slowly and shook her head. “I have helped some veterans regain what they lost, but your systems are so advanced that it will take some time. They shut down so much of you for civilian life that it’s a wonder you can even breathe.”

“Can you make me whole again?”

“Frankly, I have no idea,” she said. “I am very good, but you’re not just a cyborg with systems disabled for civilian life; they rebuilt you entirely from the ground up, I think. Even disabling the warnings reactivating your wartime functions do would take hours. I am certain you want to be you again, with all you were capable of doing; but I am not certain you could afford my services. It will take far too long to achieve in even a week.”

“I have contacts; I could get you proper modern cybernetic legs.”

The woman shook her head. “Useless, for me. I have tried to repair myself often, Stevens. But two legs, an arm, the enhancements they put in me to run all those – those are too dated to be repaired, and getting them to work with anything modern is difficult at best. Removing them was the wiser option, in the end; I will need a medchair in a decade or two, so I decided it made sense earlier.”

“You need the arm, however.”

She nodded. “The boy has his uses, but yes. That I do need to repair, but finding anything modern that will work and interface with my shoulder –.” She shook her head. “This arm is only a year old and the latency is almost intolerable at times. You, on the other hand, are wearing a battle suit over your real body,” she added, as casually as anything else. “Why?”

The boy walked toward me at some cue between them.

“For protection,” I said, and then nothing as the mesh flared. The chair was unharmed, ,though the one arm twitched a little. The suit I was wearing took the assault easily enough but a good third of the interface shorted out.

“Payment,” the woman snapped, and the boy moved closer.

I am fast, but the room was confined and a battle suit is not meant for speed. Both his hands slammed onto it, and the suit sparked out around me as the mesh burned through every system.

I undid the manual release and let the suit hit the ground. The plasteel smoked and sizzled. The boy had moved a step or two away, arms wrapped about himself as electricity ground itself into calm, smoke drifting from his mouth, breathing thin and laboured.

The woman in the medchair glared at me. “Why are you here, whoever you are?” she snapped. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to destroy a battle suit of that calibre for me?”

“You were visited one month about by one Sergeant August Zim. He was never seen again; I thought some precaution was warranted.”

“So you wore a battle suite designed for war?” she snapped.

“There have been others who visited you. None of them were seen again either.”

“August died. Others have not.”

“You reactivated them.”

She smiled coldly. “I did. A veteran like yourself must understand: you are so slow, so – limited – now. They wanted to be whole again. Dangerous, yes, but no more so than many others in Edos. And I profit handsomely from repairing them, and learning their secrets.”

I froze. The boy was close to me, the mesh burning in the air around him. Controlled, by her or him, and enough to harm me badly. No normal electromesh is this potent. “...the chair is for show, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“You have legs inside it that you put on when you need to. It’s a tool, the same as the boy and everything else.”

She smiled slightly. “That is correct. He paid me with his eyes for a voice; a terrible thing, the gasses we use in our wars. Without the shunt in his stomach for food, he would have died long before the mesh could kill him. I kept him alive, offered him a voice. It has taken longer than I thought, but in the meantime he is quite useful as a lure.”

The boy gasped. The voicebox inside him barely works because of the damage from the mesh, but does let out a shriek as he reached for the small of his back and collapsed writing on the ground.

“The downside of not being able to see himself is not noticing the neurotoxin implanted into him on the stairwell. Your move.”

The woman studied me, and the boy, then lowered the chair and reached into it, pulling out and putting on two legs that were definitely military-grade cybernetics. Her left arm no longer had any latency at all.

“This is my home, Stevens. If that is your name. You expect to kill me and survive?”

“I am a soldier, even though my war is over. Survival was never in the cards.”

She stared at me for a long moment. I don’t move, hearing the boy’s head twitch as she used his eyes for scanning along with her own. “You were never decommissioned,” she breathed.

“The government has uses for those like me. It does not have use for your adding – problems – into the city. In exchange for ceasing to do that, and dealing with anyone you have sold such knowledge to, I am authorized to give you aid in turn.”

“What kind of aid?”

“The kind that can lead to travel to other nation-states. Ones that see flesh as something to escape, perhaps.”

She didn’t move at all for a good minute. “I will need technology. And experts. I owe the boy to finish fixing him. And in turn I will to Elmith.”

I nodded. Elmith was based entirely around putting people into the Array. Their own, Network, it didn’t matter: they intended to find a cheap way to make humans live only as data, able to manipulate and survive in the vast information networks. It was madness, to me, but I had to admit it was a safer madness than most others. And they, at least, made no wars on anyone else.

I walked back over to the boy and removed the toxin. He stood shakily, hands balling into fists, and punched me once in the stomach. I pretended it hurt, apologized formally and departed. No one had died, and an alliance made. Sometimes we can walk away and leave more than ruin behind us.

The government had tried to convince me this was possible. I wasn’t about to believe them, not yet.

But I could see a future where I might.

#writing #prose #survivors #prequel srtory #post cyberpunk #biotech

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sweetwhumpandhellacomf · 6 years

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Shields and Circuits Part 3/Bad Things Happen Bingo: Kick Them While They’re Down

Fandom: Original Work (Shields and Circuits) Whumpee: Alexis (OC bodyguard robot) Tropes: Kick Them While They Are Down, electrocution, robots Word Count: 1808

Alexis spends the rest of the evening after Wright finishes repairing his neck and smaller scrapes surveying the security of the repair shop. “What kind of defense system do you have in place already?” he asks while linking up to the security cameras.

“Oh, I got Stabbs,” Wright answers, not looking up from her chips until Alexis practically has to force her to explain further.

Stabbs turns out to be a Dirt Friend brand minivac with a knife strapped to it.

“He has an alarm system too!” Wright protests as Alexis holds his face in his hands. She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I don’t know what sort of high-security job you had before, but cameras and an alarm and a Dirt Friend with a knife are plenty for this little shop.” She offers a reassuring smile.

“It just doesn’t seem… enough,” he says weakly, lowering his hands and slumping a bit. Already he feels extra protective of Wright, though still not at levels comparable to [Her].

Wright hums thoughtfully. “If we go look at security stuff tomorrow, would that make you feel better?” she asks. “Maybe I can let someone talk me into buying something.”

He decides that would help, and nods. She beams. “I’ll come pick you up before opening tomorrow, then,” she says.

He takes a second to process that wording. “Aren’t I staying with you?”

“No offense, but that would be kinda weird for me,” she says. “I just met you today, and I’m sure you’re an alright bot, but…” His distress must show, because she quickly changes tact. “Why don’t you take this as a chance to guard the shop? Get to know the place better and stuff?”

“I can do that,” he says, straightening up a bit proudly.

[NEW DIRECTIVE ADDED: GUARD THE SHOP]

---

Wright comes to fetch him the following morning, which is gray but free of rain. Taking a fresh look at his disheveled appearance, she suggests stopping by a clothing shop as well, and he finds that to be a good idea--not only are his old clothes soaked with days of mud and rainwater, they’re also what he was last seen in by [Him] and [His] personal security staff.

“I can probably spare the cash forrrrr two outfits?” Wright says, looking at some details on her phone. “Nothing fancy, alright?”

“Are you sure?” Alexis asks. “I’m sure whatever you pick will be fine, but do I need two?”

Wright gives him two very raised eyebrows. “Alexis, my dude, first of all, I can barely dress myself.” She gestures at her shirt sporting the name of a band that was somewhat popular 40 years ago, and at her oil-stained blue jeans. He doesn’t really get what’s bad about that, but doesn’t interrupt her. “You’re picking the clothes. Second, yeah, you need at least two outfits! Don’t you think you’ll get bored wearing the exact same thing all the time?”

He looks down at his muddy jacket and slacks that he’d worn almost constantly for the last few years, but doesn’t comment. If Wright wants him to get two sets of clothes, he’ll get two sets of clothes. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Wright says, crossing her arms.

They reach a reasonably trendy chain clothing store in twelve minutes of walking, with Wright stopping every so often to greet a few fellow pedestrians and exchange pleasantries. Once inside, Alexis selects two plain shirts and two pairs of slacks that fit. At Wright’s prompting, he selects one raincoat and one pair of shoes as well.

“You can go ahead and change when we get back to the shop,” Wright says, continuing to lead the way further into town. Alexis follows obediently, bag swinging under his arm. “And hey, maybe your old clothes can be salvaged. Security next. I know a couple guys.”

“Are they reliable?” he asks. Suspicious movement catches his eye, and he turns to watch.

“They’re good salespeople,” Wright answers.

Alarms start flashing in Alexis’s periphery as he watches the suspicious target pursuing an unaware pedestrian. “Stay here, Wright,” he says quickly, sliding the bag off his shoulder and shoving it into her arms. He crosses the street despite Wright’s confused protests, and slips into the familiar movement of trailing a potential threat.

He feels a thrill of correctness when he sees someone step out of an empty storefront and drag the pedestrian inside, and sees his target follow. He steps up to the shaded door once it’s closed and presses an ear to the crack, tuning up his audio sensors.

“--think you owe us some money,” one voice says.

“I paid you back already!” a second responds. Alexis hears the sound of flesh striking flesh and yanks the door open without hesitation.

[PROTECT]

The pedestrian is in the process of stumbling to the dirty tile floor, and his assailants don’t even notice him right away. “You forgot the interest!” the woman snarls. “Pay up, or--” She looks up, suddenly seeing Alexis. “...The fuck?”

The man on the floor scrambles backwards, holding his cheek as the two criminals round on Alexis. “It’s just a robot,” Target A scoffs. “Not even a cop.”

“You need to leave that man alone,” Alexis demands, stepping forward to place himself between the criminals and their victim. “If he owes you money, there should be a nonviolent solution.”

Target B rolls her eyes. “What the fuck ever! Violence works better.” She pulls a device out of her pocket--a two-pronged metal wand mounted on something with a switch. “Wanna help demonstrate?”

Target A retrieves a similar device, and the switches are flicked. Electricity crackles between the prongs, and Alexis recognizes crude, probably homemade, anti-robot weapons. Probably nothing to be worried about, if they think he’s just a run-of-the-mill robot. He decides to make the first move and put an end to things quickly.

He focuses on Target A, quickstepping forward and swinging his leg up to kick his weapon out of his hand. Target A steps back wildly, just barely dodging Alexis’s movements. “Oh shit he’s fast,” Target A mutters, dancing around his side and trying to jab him. Alexis skips back expertly, shifting his focus to Target B just enough to avoid a swipe.

Alexis shifts into a familiar pattern of striking and dodging, and feels his fans whir with pride when he successfully delivers a felling kick to Target A’s chest, sending him sprawling into a crumbling counter. He gives himself less than a nanosecond to celebrate before turning his attention back to Target B.

Target B sees him turn and immediately flings her weapon like a javelin, in what appears to be a last-ditch effort born of panic. That’s not something he expected.

The prongs lodge in his chest plating, and electricity courses through his wires, setting his pain receptors alight. His vocalizer screeches and glitches violently as his joints seize. He’s vaguely aware of Target B shouting “Oh shit that worked!” before his legs fail him and he falls.

He’s been electrocuted before, certainly, but in such cases there were backup security droids to come to his assistance. But here, he’s alone. He tries to think of how to get out of this, but the prongs are stuck fast and his processor can’t… process. His back arches up off the floor and he screams again, arms spasming wildly as he tries to grab for the source of his agony.

[ERROR]

That doesn’t help! he tries to shout at his own HUD, but all that comes out is a garbled mess of static and consonants.

[ERROR]

[ERR

The latest flashing error message popping up is interrupted by a heavy boot colliding with his head adding fresh pain to that already coursing through his body. “Take that you metal piece of shit!” Target B shouts. She reaches down and pulls the prongs out, then kicks him in the side when his back collapses again.

“Who the fuck builds a robot with a hero complex?” Target A mutters. Alexis hears him getting to his feet. “Should teach its creator to stick with toy store kits.”

Alexis struggles to get to his feet, but every movement is sluggish, and his receptors are still shrieking with pain from the extended shocks.

[BATTERY CRITICAL: 2%]

He groans, shoving the power warning into a corner as he stares up at the Targets. “Surprised the fuckin’ thing is still moving, honestly,” Target B says. “Those things can drop a cop in seconds.” She kicks him in the side again and he cries out, sluggishly moving an arm to protect the spot. “You wanna speed the process along some?”

“Oh I’m ahead of you there,” Target A says, crouching down and bringing the sparking wand up next to Alexis’s face. He slowly turns to look at the implement, CPU racing to come up with a way out of this.

A large object collides with Target B’s head and sends her sprawling on the floor. Target A looks up suddenly, only to be met with the same fate while attempting to swear at whoever’s going at them.

[BATTERY CRITICAL: 1.5%]

[SEEK CHARGE PORT IMMEDIATELY]

Alexis struggles to sit, only to see the pedestrian the Targets had initially dragged in, wielding an old barstool. He drops it and runs over to Alexis, grabbing him by the shoulders and dragging him over to the door and out into the rain.

“Oh shit, Alexis!” he hears Wright cry out. Seconds later, she’s in his face, pulling him up to his feet. He looks around for his rescuer, but he’s already run off. “Sit tight a sec, I’m calling the cops.”

“Alright,” he mutters, watching her pull out her phone before his vision slides shut and he feels himself crumple onto the sidewalk.

[EMERGENCY POWER RESERVE MODE ACTIVE]

[SEEK CHARGE PORT IMMEDIATELY]

---

He hears conversation, feels himself being carried, doesn’t have the power to react or respond to any of it. Something soft under his chest, warmth on his back…

[BATTERY: 5%]

[REINITIALIZING…]

His eyes flutter open, and he’s met with Wright’s worried face. “Oh thank fuck dude,” she says, sighing heavily and sitting back. He’s back in the shop, under her sunlamp. “I thought I lost you there.”

“Mmn,” he grunts, closing his eyes. He’s exhausted.

“They arrested the guys who went at you,” Wright continues. “No word on the guy who pulled you out.” She reaches out and puts a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. It feels really nice. “That was stupid of you, dumbass.” Her tone of voice indicates affection.

“Gotta protect,” he mutters, too worn and sore to think about complete sentences.

“Yeah, I know, buddy.” He hears her stand. “You did good. Take a break, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, sinking into the couch more and letting the lamp’s warmth spread through his circuits.

#shields and circuits #badthingshappenbingo #whump #robo whump #hurt/comfort #my writing

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khrow-shinku · 3 years

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The Great War S11

D&D 5e Campaign

The Great War

Session 11

Our heroes get ejected out of the rook fortress once the time is up. The party makes their way back to town where something strange has happened and there are guards and people lining the streets. Turns out something had happened at the temple and orphanage. Everyone goes to check on the orphanage only to meet someone not from their realm who happens to be a part of Angra’s guild and is the new secretary of the orphanage. They also find out some of the children were injured but are doing better. They exit the building only to find M.A.W., Tinkerman’s bear, surrounded by guards who are all sitting in a circle around it protecting it. The party then heads to the council building and are led inside by guards where the summit meeting is still going on (apparently this shit lasts for like a month). It is there that everyone in the room turns and stares at Tinkerman.

Tinkerman noticing all the eyes are on him speaks up, “Ok, why is everyone looking at me? I was told that there was news for us so what is going on?” The speaker who is running the meeting and is from Tinkerman’s empire informs him that it has been discovered that many of the officials in the government of his country were corrupt, in fact all of them were, that were higher rank than him. Seems as though their god let everyone get emotions and control over these emotions. In doing so it enlightened everyone in the country to their leaders' corruption, they had been overcome by greed and already dismantled the one in charge of the country who built the warforged and his apprentice. For this they were all dismantled, meaning Tinkerman who is the only one left of office who can build and create their kind is now the single most important person in their empire and as such is now their ruler, and is in charge of the Clockwork Empire. Tinkerman is taken back by this but accepts his duty and vows to do everything he can for his people.

The party then notices that the spider queen no longer has her illusion up and everyone can see her for what she is. Rin leans down and asks the queen of Dustreodan what was going on, why was her illusion spell down? That is when she informs everyone that they knew all along that the queen of Crecia was a spider creature. JJJ, visibly shocked by this realization, is taken back and stumbles into a guard that was standing next to the wall. JJJ explains that well as long as you aren’t evil… I am still a little creeped out that you are a spider, no offense my lady, it is just I have a deep fear of spiders. The queen chuckles and says “Oh it is quite alright my dear knight. I was aware of your fear. That along with the recent troubling encounters your party has had is why I had cloaked myself before although it seems some of you were able to see straight through that, which is impressive.” JJJ studders, “Kn-n-n-night? I’m a knight?” His queen nods explains that yes he was indeed a knight, her people had looked into his family records and found out he is linked to royalty in the kingdom and as such is a Knight of Crecia.” JJJ kneels to his queen and says how honored he is to be a knight. The party congratulates him on his new rank.(HAH, hey dm nice touch, he is now Sir John like in robin hood. He is a toilet HAHAHA. Yeah yeah I know it would go by his last name and be Sir Joel but come on it is still funny.)

Tinkerman then asks about the guards in town and the temple and orphanage, to which the party is informed that a radical group had attacked both locations. As soon as Tinkerman had his answer Rin butted in, “Hold up a min. Ok I get that everyone else here might know you were this spider creature but you had a strong reaction to finding out about Ara's possible brother and I am pretty sure you could tell I could see through your illusion. Then right after we left here and was back at the tavern we were attacked by a bunch of minions that looked like miniature versions of you. Not you specifically, but your species of creature. Explain that huh? Kind of a coincidence with that timing right.” The queen let out a heavy sigh and agreed it did make her look suspicious but it wasn’t her. There is another faction of her race in her kingdom who are in favor of this war starting and are actively helping to start it. Rin nodded and agreed that was fair enough and sound logic so she apologized for being suspicious and dropped it. It is at this time that Rin notices everyone looking at her kind of curious about the radical change to her looks in a matter of just a few days while Tinkerman updates the leaders on what they found out about in that cave and that it had disappeared, and how they met an archdemon who was not evil and had informed them the same that the talkative tarrasque they had met twice before had informed them, that it appears that whoever is trying to start this war is trying to recruit demons and other creatures from that realm. However apparently most want nothing to do with him and do not want this war to happen either. So Tinkerman asks that when they see an extremely powerful creature like that, that they first try diplomacy as it seems that it will be effective. That is when Rin chimes in and says yeah, speaking of creatures from the darker planes, turns out I’m part abyssal from my grandfather's side on my mortal mother’s side. The archdemon we met was nice enough to fill me with info on the ancestry of demons and abyssal and educate me about the part of me I knew nothing about. The thing is I have no clue who my grandfather is and my celestial mother only told me to blame my grandpa for these new features. So again please be nice to the ones we have assumed were evil for all these years. It really seems they are possibly victims of this situation as much as our world is. It is at this time that a random sheet of paper poofs into Rin’s hands. The note reads: “Your mortal mother was half celestial, half moon elf. Your grandfather is TIMEless.” Rin slowly reads the words out loud as the gears in her head starts turning as she tries to connect the dots. Her grandfather's name can not be mentioned as no one has yet to say his name, everyone refuses to say it so obviously it is a taboo. The emphasis on the word time, the strange things that have happened around the party. Rin lets out an audible gasp as she puts it together. “My grandfather is the controller of time.” It all makes sense now, she remembered reading about it in the books in the royal library back home. The Time Lord is never named, he exists outside of time and is the keeper of time and not even celestials are allowed to speak his name. However Rin wasn’t given much time to let this soak in as they heard a loud thunderclap come from outside the building. The party ran outside to see what it was and before they could get out of the building there was another thunderclap, this one so loud it shook the whole building.

The party exits the building to find a smoldering crater in the middle of town. Upon investigating it the party finds a piece of chest armor made with celestial steel with a cut down the center of it and a piece of fabric that is darker than black clung to it.. Paul who recognizes it rushes over to grab it while tinkerman is examining it. As soon the rogue touches it, it turns into a black stone. The armor they found seems to harm anyone who touches it until Rin touches it.It doesn’t hurt her, instead it magically melds itself onto her skin phasing through her other armor and repairing itself. Tinkerman notices on the shoulder of the armor is his personal signature that no one can replicate because it has its own special magic attached to it. The only problem is, Tinkerman has never worked with celestial steel before or ever made such armor. So where or when, did this armor come from? Tinkerman pondered. The party is then teleported to the shadow realm where they see a familiar face.

The party is greeted by Vivec who tells them they have arrived in the shadow realm, a day before a dramatic event that happened in the past of the nameless rogue known as Paul. Vivec also explained that we were brought here to stop it from happening. The party followed the rogue who was the only one who knew the land, as he led them to the capital city. On their way to the capital they were jumped by some warriors who were a part of the army that had laid waste to Paul’s family in the past. Rin gets angry at them for having bigger tits than her, as after the enlightening that the archdemon gave her on all things demon and sexual, she realized people prefer bigger tits and now is convinced her tits are why men and women don’t approach her. After defeating these warriors Paul chopped off their heads and put their heads on spikes and laid their bodies below them on the ground with their shield covering, then Wade pops out and ties the shields on the poles to expose the bodies for further humiliation after catching a dagger that Paul had thrown at him. They make their way to the capital where they are stopped by guards. However once Paul shows them the stone and they instantly place their heads on the ground before him. Paul asks them to escort the party to the castle. Once they arrive at the castle again the royal guard question these actions and again are brought to humility when they see the stone and realize who he is. This time Paul asks for the king. The guard shows them to the king where Paul shows the king who he really is by having the king summon his son. They then go out into another room to have a conversation. When they return Paul announces his name is Ka’ar (no wonder he never gave anyone his name, how the hell do you even pronounce that? Car? What is he the crow? For his sake I hope not, the last pale guy who used that name died young.) He then announces that he is staying to assist his family in their escape. The party chose to join him in this endeavor. Ka’ar orders the guards to give the party comfortable rooms to sleep within the castle walls and that the party is to be given the best of everything, even the equipment that is in the castle. Tinkerman was granted access to the library of the king of the shadow realm. Tinkerman sets himself to learning the languages of the shadow realm, which are Netherese and Shadow Speak. As the rest of the party go to the rooms provided to them with a heavy guard in the hall to protect them from any wrongdoing in the night.

#d&d #d&d5e #The Great War #campaign #homebrew #session 11

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dfroza · 3 years

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Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for Wednesday, december 16 of 2020 with Proverbs 16 and Psalm 16, accompanied by Psalm 86 for the 86th day of Autumn, and Psalm 51 for day 351 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 3rd revolution this year)

[Psalm 16]

The Golden Secret

A precious song, engraved in gold, by King David

A prayer of David.

Protect me, God, for the only safety I know is found in the moments I seek You.

I told You, Eternal One, “You are my Lord,

for the only good I know in this world is found in You alone.”

The beauty of faith-filled people encompasses me.

They are true, and my heart is thrilled beyond measure.

All the while the despair of many,

who abandoned Your goodness for the empty promises of false gods, increases day by day.

I refuse to pour out blood offerings,

to utter their names from my lips.

You, Eternal One, are my sustenance and my life-giving cup.

In that cup, You hold my future and my eternal riches.

My home is surrounded in beauty;

You have gifted me with abundance and a rich legacy.

I will bless the Eternal, whose wise teaching orchestrates my days

and centers my mind at night.

He is ever present with me;

at all times He goes before me.

I will not live in fear or abandon my calling

because He stands at my right hand.

This is a good life—my heart is glad, my soul is full of joy,

and my body is at rest.

Who could want for more?

You will not abandon me to experience death and the grave

or leave me to rot alone.

Instead, You direct me on the path that leads to a beautiful life.

As I walk with You, the pleasures are never-ending,

and I know true joy and contentment.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 16 (The Passion Translation / The Voice)

[Proverbs 16]

People go about making their plans,

but the Eternal has the final word.

Even when you think you have good intentions,

He knows your real motives.

Whatever you do, do it as service to Him,

and He will guarantee your success.

The Eternal made everything for a reason.

Even wrongdoers fit in His plans; troubled times await them.

He abhors arrogant people.

Make no mistake about it! They will be punished!

The penalty of sin is removed by love and loyalty;

and by devotion to the Eternal, evil is avoided.

When people make good choices, He is pleased;

He even causes their enemies to live peacefully near them.

Better to have little and stand for what is right

than to become rich by doing what is wrong.

People do their best making plans for their lives,

but the Eternal guides each step.

The king makes a decision under divine inspiration,

but he must never render an unfair judgment.

The Eternal requires that business be conducted honestly;

He wants fairness in all your dealings.

When kings commit evil, it is despicable,

because their thrones should be built on justice.

Kings admire those who tell the truth;

they adore those who set the record straight.

A king’s rage signals that people will die,

but whoever is wise will pacify him.

If a king is smiling brightly, life will be granted;

his favor is like a cloud swelled with the first spring rain.

How much better it is to receive wisdom than the riches of gold

and to gain understanding over some silver prize!

The highway of the just bypasses evil;

those who watch where they’re going protect their lives from sin.

Pride precedes destruction;

an arrogant spirit gives way to a nasty fall.

It is better to be humble and live among the poor,

than to divide up stolen property with the proud.

Those devoted to instruction will prosper in goodness;

those who trust in the Eternal will experience His favor.

The wise at heart have a reputation for understanding;

pleasant words make the lips more persuasive.

Understanding for those who have it is a spring of life,

but it is pointless to try and instruct a fool.

From a wise heart flow careful words;

wise words make the lips more persuasive.

Pleasant words are like a honeycomb:

they drip sweet food for life and bring health to the body.

Before every person lies a road that seems to be right,

but at the end of that road death and destruction wait.

People work to stay alive,

pressed daily by their need to eat.

Good-for-nothings conjure up evil ideas;

their conversations fuel destructive fires.

Perverse people stir up contention;

gossip makes best friends into enemies.

Violent people try to recruit their neighbors,

wanting to lead them down the vile path of evil they have chosen.

Body language can expose a person’s intentions:

whoever winks the eye is planning perversity;

whoever purses his lips is intent on evil.

Gray hair is a crown of honor,

earned by living the right kind of life.

It is better to be a patient man than a mighty warrior,

better to be someone who controls his temper than someone who conquers a city.

We may try to control the roll of the dice,

but actually, the Eternal decides what they will determine.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 16 (The Voice)

[Psalm 86]

A Prayer of Faith

King David’s prayer

Lord, bend down to listen to my prayer.

I am in deep trouble. I’m broken and humbled,

and I desperately need your help.

Guard my life, for I’m your faithful friend, your loyal servant for life.

I turn to you in faith, my God, my hero; come and rescue me!

Lord God, hear my constant cry for help;

show me your favor and bring me to your fountain of grace!

Restore joy to your loving servant once again,

for all I am is yours, O God.

Lord, you are so good to me, so kind in every way

and ready to forgive,

for your grace-fountain keeps overflowing,

drenching all your lovers who pray to you.

God, won’t you pay attention to this urgent cry?

Lord, bend down to listen to my prayer.

Whenever trouble strikes, I will keep crying out to you,

for I know your help is on the way.

God, there’s no one like you;

there’s no other god as famous as you.

You outshine all others and your miracles make it easy to know you.

Lord Almighty, you are the one who created all the nations;

Look at them—they’re all on their way!

Yes, the day will come when they all will worship you

and put your glory on display.

You are the one and only God.

What miracles! What wonders! What greatness belongs to you!

Teach me more about you, how you work and how you move,

so that I can walk onward in your truth

until everything within me brings honor to your name.

With all my heart and passion I will thank you, my God!

I will give glory to your name, always and forever!

You love me so much and you placed your greatness upon me.

You rescued me from the deepest place of darkness,

and you have delivered me from a certain death.

God, look at how these arrogant ones have defied me.

Like a vicious band of violent men they have tried to kill me.

They wouldn’t worry for a moment that they were sinning against you!

But Lord, your nurturing love is tender and gentle.

You are slow to get angry yet so swift to show your faithful love.

You are full of abounding grace and truth.

Bring me to your grace-fountain

so that your strength becomes mine.

Be my hero and come rescue your servant once again!

Send me a miraculous sign to show me how much you love me,

so that those who hate me will see it and be ashamed.

Don’t they know that you, Lord, are my comforter,

the one who comes to help me?

The Book of Psalms, Poem 86 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 51]

A David Psalm, After He Was Confronted by Nathan About the Affair with Bathsheba

Generous in love—God, give grace!

Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record.

Scrub away my guilt,

soak out my sins in your laundry.

I know how bad I’ve been;

my sins are staring me down.

You’re the One I’ve violated, and you’ve seen

it all, seen the full extent of my evil.

You have all the facts before you;

whatever you decide about me is fair.

I’ve been out of step with you for a long time,

in the wrong since before I was born.

What you’re after is truth from the inside out.

Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life.

Soak me in your laundry and I’ll come out clean,

scrub me and I’ll have a snow-white life.

Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,

set these once-broken bones to dancing.

Don’t look too close for blemishes,

give me a clean bill of health.

God, make a fresh start in me,

shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.

Don’t throw me out with the trash,

or fail to breathe holiness in me.

Bring me back from gray exile,

put a fresh wind in my sails!

Give me a job teaching rebels your ways

so the lost can find their way home.

Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,

and I’ll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.

Unbutton my lips, dear God;

I’ll let loose with your praise.

Going through the motions doesn’t please you,

a flawless performance is nothing to you.

I learned God-worship

when my pride was shattered.

Heart-shattered lives ready for love

don’t for a moment escape God’s notice.

Make Zion the place you delight in,

repair Jerusalem’s broken-down walls.

Then you’ll get real worship from us,

acts of worship small and large,

Including all the bulls

they can heave onto your altar!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 51 (The Message)

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