SF's "Write Your Butt Off" Competition HD II.5 Remix

[TheSilentChloey]

22 minutes ago, Rapier said:

holy shit this isn't done yet

Yeah XD when I get to go full attention on stories they tend to get...massive...

[Ottservia]

So we gotta tie going on

[Jotari]

I've only read two of them. We have plenty of time yet though.

[AnonymousSpeed]

On 4/18/2019 at 2:05 PM, Ottservia said:

john wilque booth

Wilkes

Don't y'all got school?

Anyway, yeah, there's a tie and about 14 hours of voting left. So that's neat. I would vote but I haven't read all the entries yet and might not have the chance to do so, unfortunately.

[Jotari]

On 4/16/2019 at 4:23 AM, Shoblongoo said:

Made a last minute entry with the time extension.  lol

Name:  "AVAST, YE SCURVY DOGS!"

Fandom:  


Words:  1,910
 

  Hide contents

 

“Black sails on the horizon!” First Mate Dart of the Fargus Pirates called out the warning. “Just one ship. No escorts. Nothing worth making a fuss about—ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck me in the arse. Its Captain Hellfish.”  

“Aye. That’s his banner.” Fargus saw it. A blood-red bicep flexing beneath the head of a toothy mawed anthropomorphic fish, with a razor-fin mohawk and a cigar in its mouth. Against the backdrop of a giant ship’s anchor in contrasting shades of ocean blue.

 

“Captain Who?” Captain-General Murdock of the Bernese Royal Guard was confused.

“Scatter the fleet.” Fargus ordered his men to execute a hasty retreat and disengagement. He wasn’t having any of that. “We’re done here.”

“You will do no such thing!” Murdock demanded. “We paid you pirates good gold to—”

“Gold is for the living. Keep yer fekkin’ gold.” Fargus raised his gangplank and disembarked from the King Desmond’s Pride. “Couldn’t pay me enough to fight this fight if yeh had all the gold on the Western Isles. Yield if yeh know whats good for yeh. You can’t defeat that man.”

“I WILL SEE YOU ALL HANG AS TRAITORS TO BERN!” Murdock called out after the retreating pirate ship.

“Aye! Yeh might!” Fargus called back “If the Hellfish doesn’t fuck yeh all to death!”

You see…here’s the thing…

King Desmond could have stayed in the comfort of his castle and bedded all his lovely concubines, and cut the tongue off of any man who had a bad thing to say about it. Like any good and proper mad tyrant king  trapped in a loveless political marriage. It wasn’t exactly a closely guarded secret that the King of Bern was a whoremonger.

But that wasn’t quite insane enough for King Desmond.

What the King of Bern had actually done was outlaw whoring as a form of “degeneracy,” giving his soldiers free reign to raid the local brothels under King’s Orders. Said soldiers had then abducted his favored girls and locked them in the bowels of a capital-class warship. Which King Desmond had repurposed into a pleasure barge (because of course he did). King Desmond would then leave the capital for indefinite lengths of time on pretense of running naval expeditions, and leading his forces on campaign.

The operative word being “pretense.”

There was no expeditionary force or naval campaign. King Desmond was whoring his way across the Southern Seas. With a flotilla of privateers and freebooters running escort. In a floating treasure-box of beautiful women and fine spirits and spiced incense. Gold-plated and innately decored as though to tell the whole world and every ship that sailed it: I a very rich and very stupid. Please rob me.

In all fairness to King Desmond, he DID have Captain-General Murdock standing personal guard aboard his ship, and a dread pirate fleet under the command of Captain Fargus surrouding it. Some measure of confidence that he was well enough protected to flaunt his obscene wealth and none would have the balls to take in from him was warranted.

But Fargus had buggered off under fear-of-death before the balls of what came for him on this day.

And Murdock; oh, bless-his-heart. Murdock didn’t have the faintest fucking clue what he was up against. He really didn’t.

Now—Murdock himself was a mountain of a man. Accustomed to being the biggest and strongest on any battlefield he stood, and capable of standing his ground against most any opponent simply by being able to bare the weight of so much armor that their attacks could never reach him.

So the first hint of how vigorous an assfucking King Desmond’s Pride was about to take should have been when the gangplank dropped, and the Pirate King that strode across towered over Murdock by a full head.

He was bigger than any man had a right to me. Not merely tall; but as bulky as bulk could get while still giving off the overall impression of musculature rather than flab. He wore no armor; leathers from the waist-down and nothing from the waist-up. His jiggling girth and prominently protruding gut somehow cut an even more menacing figure than if he only possessed the hulking mass of muscles underneath.

 A bushy grey mess of beard and brow and a large, bulbous nose dominated his face. 

The hair of his chest and arms was plentiful and the same bushy grey, and had an odor that was difficult to describe.

He appeared to be unarmed, in the conventional sense of armaments. Except that in one hand, he carried a ship’s anchor as though it were a giant battle axe. A swing of which could surely open a suit of armor as though it were a tin can.

“HALT, IN THE NAME OF BERN!” Murdock made to block his path.

“Armor on a gangplank. Yer not the brightest, are yeh?” Captain Hellfish was thoroughly unimpressed with the general. “Yer in me way. Move, Piss-Ant.”

Murdock did not yield, and for a moment his men might have hoped that their general’s strength would win the day.

…Just for a moment…

On that day they learned why Elibe’s seafaring fighters don’t wear armor, as Captain Hellfish simply grabbed Murdock. Hoisted him like a bale of hay. And tossed him overboard.

Armor sinks, you see.

So disposing of Bern’s strongest general: Hellfish chugged half a bottle of whiskey. Took a chunk out of the ship’s railing with a casual practice swing. And loudly proclaimed that the next man to bar his path would be bent over and fucked-to-death with an anchor.

Not a single soldier intervened as Captain Hellfish proceeded to cuck the King of Bern in front of his entire harem.

_________


Captain Hellfish was not a man. Captain Hellfish was a force-of-nature. One did not fight the Hellfish as one fought a man, but hunkered down and prayed for the storm to pass.

His antics were something of an urban legend among drunken sailors, and it was often unclear where the man ended and the myth began.

It was said he had once fought a Demon-Dragon armed only with a broken whiskey bottle. Hellfish had won the day by taunting the creature into swallowing him whole and then shanking his way out of its innards.

It was said that a Dark Druid had once stolen his soul. Hellfish had stolen it back by bludgeoning him until the soul left his body.

It was said that a Divine Dragon Goddess had once offered him any boon within her power to grant. Other men may have wished for wealth or power or forbidden knowledge. Hellfish had traveled through time to get more rum.

It was said that he had once cucked the King of Bern in front of his entire harem.

His method of warfare was simple. Hellfish would seek out the strongest fighters in the enemy’s host. Completely humiliate them in front of their entire army. Then receive the prompt surrender of all remaining forces, and loot anything that wasn’t nailed to their ship.

Those who at least put up a moderately entertaining show of resisting him might receive an invite to join his crew, depending on The Captain’s mood and level of amusement. For Hellfish’s greatest enemy was boredom.

And alas: life on the Elibean seas had become quite boring. For Hellfish had long-since bludgeoned everything on the continent capable of putting up a halfway decent fight against him. What to do?  

One day, however, Hellfish was cruising around the horn of Nabata when a sinister-looking Island that had never appeared before came into view. Arcadian lorekeepers with knowledge of such things told him that the island appeared in legends prophesizing the return of dark and ancient gods; for it had been banished beneath the waves eons ago as a prison to the worst of their demonspawn.

Hellfish of course—upon hearing this—took it as a personal fucking challenge. And swiftly set sail for the island, seeking new and exciting creatures to bludgeon into submission.

Hellfish learned two (2) things from this excursion:

1)       Demons are insanely good at fighting

and

2)      They’re covered in wonderful spiky bits that make excellent trophies and/or improvised weaponry
 

After a lengthy brawl that ended in the Captain ripping a demon’s horn off and impaling it through the chest of another demon, Hellfish decided that he simply had to have more of these lovely creatures to murder with pieces of what may or may not have been their own family members.

He inquired from port-to-port where more such creatures could be found.

It was in this way that Hellfish learned of the mythical continent of Magvel—far, far to the East, further East than any Elibean had ever sailed—across an oceanic route that was said to be completely impassable. And where it was said that three-headed hellbeasts and cyclopean giants and all manner of nonsense walked the land (even an unbound demonic entity that fashioned itself King of all Demons). But it was impossible to reach. No ship could sail that far. The route was untraversable, and to attempt it was suicide.

Hellfish again heard this and considered it a personal fucking challenge.

Through pure pig-headedness, refusal to recognize the impossibility of the task, and the notable advantage of being fully stocked as though having just left port at the outermost periphery of where Elibean ships dared sail (said ships were surely left-for-dead when Hellfish looted all their foodstuffs and left them stranded in open water weeks away from the mainland—but, hey—details), Hellfish completed the crossing.

And this mythical new land called Magvel did not disappoint!

The first several ships Captain Hellfish encountered in Magvellian waters were ghostly galleons; manned by skeleton crews and reanimated corpses. This was…problematic…

Oh--fighting them was a treat to be sure. It confirmed all the rumors of demonic activity, and the skeletons made funny popping noises when they “died.” But the Hellfish crew was dangerously low on supplies after making its grand ocean voyage, and revenants weren’t in the habit of keeping a stocked pantry.  

It was under these somewhat dire circumstances that Captain Hellfish encountered the questing battle barge of one Prince Ephraim of Renais, and the Prince’s company of heroes.

“AVAST, YE SCURVY DOGS!!!” Hellfish rammed and boarded in a most Hellfishy fashion.

“People criticize my fighting style—reckless they call me!” Prince Ephraim boasted. Meeting this new foe head-on and with supreme confidence, and was his custom. “Call me that when I lose, because I don’t…”

Captain Hellfish pried Reginlief from his hands, shoved it up the prince's ass, and punted him across the command deck. (Hellfish was not the most inventive of angry warlords, but he certainly had a way of getting his point across)

It was a testament to how taxing the voyage from Elibe had been and how exhausted he was that Captain Hellfish didn’t even bother claiming Princess Tana of Frelia as a salt-wife—although he certainly entertained the thought of making a go at it—and instead looted all the ale and rations his considerable frame could carry, forgoing any other prize. Before retreating back to his ship and disembarking once more.

The royal houses of Magvel would have two principle missions thereafter:

1)  Purging their Lands of the Ancient Evil that was Demon King Fomortiis.    

2)  Purging their Seas of the pirate menace that was Captain Hellfish.

…Slaying the Demon proved to be the considerably less ambitious undertaking…

 

Spoiler

Murdock's a bit out of character here. He's actually more of the very calm, confident and reasonable type when he's threatening people. I can barely even imagine him shouting. Also, explanations for the origins aside, while you're going with the Fire Emblem setting, I couldn't help but feel you should have just used Shanty Pete, Fire Emblem's own mythic pirate. Wouldn't really have changed anything of the story, but would have had a bit more cohesion with the series.

Fanfic specific stuff out of the way, on the subject of the writing. I'm not sure the narration style suited. It was a bit unfocused. Giving us a set up with one set of characters up to the introduction, and then following Hellfish with a more distant, overarching style that did give him much character. I know you were going for a sort of meme big personality, but I'm not sure it followed through. It's like there wasn't a core to the story. The point was to introduce Hellfish, but then that happened and the story kept going. Although the ending line is good, the story doesn't really give much good justification for ending at that point. If you know what I mean.

Like that you depicted Magvel and Elibe as existing in the same world though.

On 4/11/2019 at 2:37 PM, SoulWeaver said:

BEHOLD A CONCEPT

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“So why do they have this girl all locked up like this anyway?”

Jalan looked over at his companion, startled. Roul was staring into the compartment, a frown on his fellow guard’s face.

“I mean, look at her - she can’t be older than 20, she’s just a kid. What could she have done to merit this? If I didn’t know better, I’d say those bars propping her up were nailed into her.”

Jalan turned and looked in himself, despite knowing what he’d see.

A young woman was confined in the compartment, her face peaceful behind the dark hair that fell in waves as she slumped in her confinements. The entire chamber was kept full of sedation gas to ensure she couldn’t stay conscious enough to even dream, as per protocol for criminals who reached Red Threat Level.

Outside of protocol, she also had no less than twelve metal bars that appeared to have been jammed through her body in various places, holding her upright, including one that seemed to go right through where her navel was.

Jalan took a deep breath.

“It’s because they are, Roul.”

“Huh?”

“Those bars.” Jalan motioned to the compartment. “They were nailed through her.”

Roul muttered something probably religious under his breath, looking back in.

“What on earth - how is she even still alive?! Wait, no, first, what could she have possibly done to merit that?!”

Jalan looked out at the mountainside flashing by the transport train as it rushed along.

“Most of what she did’s classified - I doubt even Melani knows more than a little about her. She did, however, get traced to upwards of thirty-two deaths in one month - it’s one of the few bits of info on her available.”

“Bull. We’ve transported serial killers before, none of them got anything near to this. Did you see the one stuck in her gut?”

“I just said most of it’s classified - Class Five, I heard.”

Roul blinked. Anything more secret than Class Three was generally kept from even the main government’s knowledge - the two of them only knew there were things even more secret because Jalan had an ongoing affair with their boss’s boss, Melani Trevach, and Jalan had been Roul’s best friend since before they could walk. In all the info Jalan had carefully wheedled out of his lover over the three years they’d been seeing each other, she had only mentioned one other instance of anything higher than Class Four - and it had been, as far as they could guess based on who was in on it, a matter of planetary security. Roul looked back at the girl with a new measure of concern.

“So that means if she gets out-”

“Chances are the whole world will get screwed.” Jalan nodded. “The only reason the public even knows about her is that the last seventeen of those deaths were in the Bosti Massacre. They couldn’t identify the bodies, supposedly she had to tell them which was who. Most gory killing on public record, and only two records Melani has access to - both Class Four - are considered worse.”

“And that’s just her public info?!” Roul’s voice squeaked a little despite himself as he stared at the girl, still looking deceptively peaceful in confinement.

“Melani says even her boss gets squeamish when this girl’s brought up.” Jalan said in a low voice. “She’s supposedly survived decapitation, hanging, burning, even a flaying I think. I know it sounds impossible, but...well, the fact that she’s still breathing with a spike through her windpipe should speak for itself.”

“What’s her name?”

“I don’t know, Melani says she’s just referred to as part of ‘The Facility’s projects’ - Subject 23, I wanna say?”

Roul felt a chill.

“Sh-she’s from The Facility?!”

The World Council had voted to Class Three the work of The Facility after the results of their first project had been submitted for the Council’s approval before they went public. After their fifth project, official government records had it that it was shut down - in reality, they’d been upgraded to Class Four. Somehow, images of Subject 4 - a man whose body was made entirely of protoflies - were leaked during a hacking incident, so the public knew of The Facility, but chose to pretend they didn’t. People will be people, after all.

Roul and Jalan, thanks to Melani’s Class Four clearance, knew of 19 Projects from The Facility, ranging from a weaponized aphrodisiac to a trio of brothers who functioned under a single hive mind to a raccoon with human intelligence. That this girl was Subject 23 meant that The Facility’s projects had officially - or was it unofficially? - reached the point where it was too dangerous for even those people whose job it was to handle too-dangerous things to know about them.

Roul muttered another probably-religious exclamation under his breath, turned to say something…

And the power went out.

Both men froze, staring at each other with fear clawing at their chests as they felt the train begin to slow.

Transports like these had no fewer than five backup power systems to ensure things like this didn’t happen - they were, after all, only used for extremely dangerous criminals. It should have been impossible for a total system failure like this.

Of course, Jalan reflected, it also should have been impossible for the prisoner to still be-

Oh, no.

Roul realized it at the same time. Both men slowly looked at the compartment. Though the sedative gas was still slightly clouding the window, they could see it was slowly dissipating.

Someone had to have punctured the compartment somehow.

As Roul stepped forward, Jalen felt something.

“Roul, no!”

A blinding flash, and the window blew in, showering them both with glass. With the world barely visible, Jalen thought he saw yet another impossibility.

There was an angel in the transport.

Azure feathers fluttered down around him. One brushed his foot, and he jumped slightly at the electric feel of it. Three somethings hit his shoulder - darts, of some kind? - and the angel raised its hand.

Then, pain screamed through everything as his vision cycled through a hundred shades of blue until the world finally broke into black.

 

“JALEN!!!”

Roul screamed as his friend died spasming, blue lightning coursing through the air across Jalen’s frame. He struggled to get to his feet, brushing shards of glass away, and found a gun barrel touching his forehead.

“...Heh. After all this time, to think it would be so easy.”

Roul looked up into the face of death.

...It was surprisingly almost pretty.

“Tell you what.”

Brown hair with three streaks of silvery gray framed a girlish face, out of which piercing eyes - one blue, one gray - stared confidently, almost arrogantly, into Roul’s own.

“I’m in a good mood, so I’ll give you a choice.”

Some kind of almost military half uniform half jumpsuit, dark blue with maroon trim, tightly fit a slender body, doing little to hide a modest chest but also excellently showcasing muscular structure that rivaled Roul’s own - in a hand to hand fight, he wasn’t certain who would come out on top.

“Either get out of my way and live to tell your superiors what happened-”

This was, of course, discounting the fact that the woman in front of him had killed Jalen by throwing lightning at him.

“Or you can join the other guy and we’ll just let them find the wreck in a couple days.”

...What kind of choice was that?

Roul slowly raised his hands in the universal ‘I’m unarmed don’t hurt me’ gesture.

“That was my best friend you just murdered.”

“Killed, pal, there’s a difference.” The girl said, holstering her gun. “Sorry, man, them’s the breaks sometimes. Maybe he’s got a girlfriend or something you can hook up with now to help you get over it?”

“What kind of twisted mentality is that?!”

“Hey, I don’t know how you real world types work, that’s how it always goes in the books.”

She walked over to the compartment door as Roul tried to process that. Real world types?

“This door open?”

Roul shook his head.

“You need clearance way beyond what I have to get in there. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Meh,” The girl shrugged. “Kinda expected that - only expendables would get guard duty of someone like this. Lucky for me…”

She pulled her pistol out, shot the lock once, and reholstered it again.

“I can just do this.”

Blue electricity arced from her hand to the lock for about five seconds, then Roul heard a click.

“There we go! Now,” The girl flung the door open, letting the gas finish escaping, diluted enough by the regular air to not affect them. “Gotta finish the mission.”

“Mission?” It connected in Roul’s mind what she must have been here for. “Are you here to-”

“Kill the Deadie in there? Nah, even a Thunderbird can only do so much.” The...Thunderbird, whatever that was, walked into the compartment, and Roul, despite himself, leaned on the door to look in - his legs were a little sore after getting blown off his feet, and something to hold him up helped.

The prisoner - Subject 23 - was groggily trying to shake her head. She went to move her arms, but unfortunately, there was a metal bar jammed through both her wrists and one elbow.

“Oh wow,” The Thunderbird whistled. “They really didn’t want you getting out of here, princess. Too bad there are people who need you back more.”

Back...it clicked.

The Facility.

The transport had been attacked, no doubt, by the result of one of their Projects.

A woman who could throw lightning and hack a high security electronic lock within ten seconds.

Subject 23, meanwhile, seemed to have come to full consciousness, and jumped at the sight of the other girl.

“You!”

“Yep.” The Thunderbird smiled. “Thought you killed me on the way out, didn’tcha? They told me I could be the one to bring you back as payback - said I could have a little fun with you while I’m at it.” Her smile turned wicked. “Lucky you, eh?”

Her gun came up, and she left three darts in a line up 23’s chest, then snapped her fingers.

Lightning jumped from her hand to the prisoner, focusing around the three darts. Subject 23 yelled, twisting against the bars holding her in place as the Thunderbird girl laughed.

“Ah, that’s a great sound. You realize how hard it is to yell with a slit throat? Wait, no-”

She viciously kicked 23 in the knee, and Roul heard a snap as the girl yelled again.

“-That was me who had to find that out, bitch.”

Surprisingly, the prisoner didn’t seem too distracted by her broken knee, or the blood running from around almost every bar jammed into her.

“...My name is-AAAGH!”

“What makes you think I care what you call yourself?” The Thunderbird scoffed as she jolted 23 around with another blast of electricity. “None of us have names, princess, you know that. Now scream a little louder, and we can get this over with quick.”

Roul could only watch, sickened. To her credit, 23 refused to let her yells grow to full screams, fighting her torturer in the only way she could. If anything, though, the effort made her thrash against the bars even harder - it almost looked like she was trying to thrash as hard as she…

With a rrrrrip and a real scream, 23’s left arm tore off at the shoulder.

Roul threw up.

“Oh, that’s disgusting.”

The Thunderbird girl recoiled at the sight of the arm hanging from the bar through its wrist, shaking her head.

“Goodness, you just gotta ruin my fun by making it gross with your Deadie stuff, huh?”

She reached out, grabbed the wrist of the arm, and yanked, ripping it off the bar and dropping it to the floor.

“All the good that did you, princess.” She shrugged. “Now you’re down an arm, and you’ve managed to put a nice big rip in your gut. Bit more thrashing like that and you’ll tear right through yourself, and then who cares if you got off the bars, you’re still stuck on the floor of a transport container in the middle of nowhere with only one arm. What were you even trying to do, anyways?”

23 just hung there, panting from what must have been immense pain. Oddly enough, there wasn’t as much blood running from the gaping wound where her left arm used to start as Roul would have thought.

“Hmph. Well, I think we’ll cut you down and let you thrash a little more.” The Thunderbird said, pulling out a laser cutter and slicing through the bars until 23 collapsed to the floor. She leaned down and yanked each bar piece out of the girl, seeming to revel in the cries of pain she made.

“Alright, let’s have some more fun, shall we?”

“Look, stop it.” Roul surprised himself more than he did her as she looked at him. “You got your revenge, she screamed nice and loud like you wanted - heck, her arm is on the floor a full arm’s length away from her. Just take her wherever you were supposed to take her.”

“You trying to get me to rescind my earlier offer?” The Thunderbird snapped angrily. “Cause I’m down to leave you like the other guy.”

“It won’t make a real difference.” Roul said. “You’re still just a bitch who-”

The dart and electricity hit at almost the same time, bringing Roul to the floor. However, a sudden thud and cry of pain cut the electricity off, and Roul forced himself to look up to see a bizarre sight.

23 had somehow regained her feet despite her broken knee, and had struck the Thunderbird with the closest thing at hand - her own disembodied arm. The two now faced each other, 23’s eyes tired but determined, the Thunderbird girl’s angry.

“You really wanna pick a fight with me here, princess?” She snapped. “You can’t hit me for squat if I don’t want you to, you don’t have that magnetic knife this time.”

“...Don’t I?”

23 reached up and grabbed something in her bloody left shoulder, ripping a sheathed blade from where it had been embedded in her flesh with a grunt of pain. She flicked the clasp and the sheath fell to the floor as her opponent unconsciously took a step back.

“The hell, you stored that thing in you?!” She cried. “That’s disgusting!”

“Fair trade.” 23 said softly. “An arm for the only way I could kill you. Still want to try and make me come back? You could come with me, you know.”

In response, Thunderbird shot twice. 23 dodged the darts, and threw herself at her foe, stumbling through bursts of blue lightning as she tackled the girl to the floor, brought her arm up, and swung it down.

“...Figured out my mistake.” 23 muttered, staring down at the knife now jutting from between the other girl’s shoulder blades. “I should have left it in you last time. Can’t heal with a big piece of metal magnetically drawing all the electrons into itself, right?”

The Thunderbird girl’s lips moved, but only blood came out - 23 had successfully slit her throat during the tackle. She stared, terrified, at the girl pinning her arms down, preventing her from removing the blade, and tried again to gasp for air, only succeeding in forcing herself to start choking on her own blood. In her desperate, dying struggles, electricity began pouring from her, forcing 23 off in her own spasms of pain. Shortly, though, the electricity wound down and stopped.

Roul waited a full five minutes before approaching the bodies sprawled on the floor. The Thunderbird girl was dead, her eyes staring blankly up with a vague panicked look still on her face. Subject 23, as far as he could tell, was dead too - not even a heartbeat. Jalen had said she’d been ‘killed’ before, though, so who knew.

Jalen! Roul quickly rushed to his friend’s body. I’m so sorry, my friend, he thought. I wish I could have done something to save you. He looked back at the bodies in the compartment, thinking.

The route the transport had taken went within five miles of a village. If - a big if - they were close enough to that point, Roul could probably make it there and call in for help, and...then what? That was a five mile hike, and his leg felt like it wouldn’t last a quarter of a mile.

He looked down at Jalen’s face.

...He’d make it. He had to, or else stay up here, alone. He assumed the rest of the crew had been killed or else fled once the transport had stopped. Roul forced himself to his feet, and made his way to the next car, forcing the door open after much longer than he would have liked. He took a supply pack, went to the broken window, looked back at the bodies once, and began to walk.

*le gasp* SoulWeaver knows big boy words?!

Author's Notes(Post-Read please):

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Wow I can't stay on a prompt to save my life. 23 was supposed to be the villain, she was supposed to casually break out and leave, then somehow this happened. Eh, better than nothing, I sat down to write a paragraph or two and suddenly there were five and a half pages. I don't even have a really fitting name for this any more, someone can come up with one if they want for the poll.
Obvious or not, I ended up drawing a couple different ideas from Azure Striker Gunvolt, namely the Thunderbird(an Azure Striker, of course) and the unnamed Subject 4, based on both the Adept Stratos and Zaktan the Piraka from BIONICLE. 23 herself eventually does become something of a pseudo-villain within my other writing, adopting the name Necra, but here I guess it just didn't quite work out for whatever reason. If you ask me the piece suffers a little because of it, but your opinion may be different than mine.
Yes, I am aware I switch between different names for the two more involved characters. I couldn't figure out what to call them. Also yes, I know the PoV switch is a little jarring, that's just how it happened.

 

Spoiler

I really liked the opening for this one. You manage to convey a fantastic sense of dread and threat using natural dialogue. The breaks in dialogue to deliver exposition were also important, well placed and didn't interfere with the pacing at all. Then stuff starts happening and, well I hesitate to say it falls apart, but the story suddenly changes into something very different. It feels like it's trying to be cool and actiony for the sake of it rather than actually trying to build to something with a theme. Which I guess it does achieve to some extent. I also thought the Thunderbird was 23 right up until the two of them actually interacted. In the confusion that was a really easy mistake to make and might need some more direct clarification.

On 4/3/2019 at 5:24 PM, TheSilentChloey said:

Since complaints were made here.

Title: Removal

Fandom: N/A

Word Count: 1, 347

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“Freeze!”

The man yelled, eyes narrowed with the pistol at his side drawn, finger hovering over the trigger as rain started to really pour down with thick droplets of water pounding the pavement below him.  The figure he'd pointed his gun at didn't even seem to either hear or care, making their way forwards. The man had barely a moment to process that he was in danger before the world suddenly went black as his blood joined the rain…

 

~~~

 

“That's the fifth body this week!” Yelled a young detective, “What the hell are we supposed to do?!”

“Calm down Maseiki San...we have a solution to this problem.”

“What you want to call those fu-”

“Yes.  They're the only ones capable of getting to the bottom of this.  I will ring Mahad and ask him to send us a Flier. Perhaps we'll be able to make sense of these bodies once we have one on hand.”

“This is bull and you know it!  Those things are as bad as...stuff!” The affore named Maseiki yelled remembering not to swear on the job though he was close to it, “And anyway don't they usually work in pairs or something?”

“We'll ask.  That all we can do.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this…” Masen groaned, “Yamato San…”

 

~~~

 

The call was late at night.  Mahad was aware of the situation and he sighed, “Yet another major vampire clan has been awoken...why am I not surprised.  Kachiri, have you word on-”

“There are three pairs available, Desher Pair, Yuganna and Marik, Shesep Pair, Setonara and Miria, and lastly, Desher Pair Yugiatemu and Galatea.  We also have Desher Pair Yamara and Râtân on standby.”

“Ah is that so.  Perhaps we should send them all as a team.  That might just be enough to sort out the problem.  Though…” Mahad sighed heavily, “Great One give us wisdom to the best outcome to this problem.”

 

~~~

 

“So what's the mission, Yami?” Yuganna asked as she casually swung the training blade, known as a Cherick, she had thought herself to never have needed it again but...unfortunately sometimes one still needed to stay in tip top condition.  Her long blonde hair was tied back in a high ponytail and she kept impatiently brushing her fringe out of her eyes, “And why us?”

An almost identical woman, the young flier's Yami, or Mother chuckled, “Mine dearest one,” She said speaking warmly, “It be a requirement to those who are Shamen to taketh part in missions.  E'en I. For as the dragons doth fly so must we and the vampires are e'er the churls that we shalt deny a foothold in the mortal realm as dideth mine Yame, Atem.”

Yuganna sighed and turned to where a young man with almost white hair was sat watching the pair.  He was her soul mate, Marik. He was the reason she could take on her dragon form and maintain her sanity.  She then spotted her cousin, who didn't even know he was a flier for the longest time.  “Yugiatemu!” Yuganna cried and he jolted,

“Ahh...konichiwa Yuganna chan!” He hastened to bow, “Genki desu?”

Yuganna huffed, “Oh come on!  Use English for the love of the Great One!  And don't call me Yuganna chan!” she snarled viciously.

Yugiatemu looked down, “Gomenasai…”

Yuganna huffed, “Let me guess you don't know how to speak in English or Arabic at least.” She said and he shuffled the dirt of the arena with his foot,

“Little…” He replied and Yuganna rolled her eyes,

“Great this is going to work amazingly.” She said sarcastically, “I don't see why they allowed you to promote from a Sharika if you can't even speak more than one language properly!”

The older woman sighed.  She wasn't surprised by the behaviour from both.  Yamara saw her other nephew Setonara arrive, “He's skilled enough with a blade it's not that important.” the white winged dragon said calmly, “We're apparently leaving come dawn.  Master Mahad said it's likely a more serious kind of vampire that needs us to take it out.”

Yugiatemu shuddered, and Yuganna sheathed the Cherick, “That serious huh?” She said suddenly, “How many…?” she asked softly and Setonara sighed,

“A few.  This one seems to be bottomless in its appetite.”

Yuganna frowned and Yamara looked uneasy, “Bottomless sayeth thee?  Hast Master Mahad said what it be that we doth be dealing with?”

Setonara looked at Yuganna and the small Flier frowned, “He's been avoiding it Yami.” Yuganna said, “Gathering some of the most powerful of our kind for this mission...well it must be a strong one that we're dealing with.  You, Setonara, Yugiatemu and I...we are...some of the most powerful fliers that there are. This has to be serious.”

Setonara nodded.  It wasn't long before a couple of almost ethereal women appeared, one whose eyes were completely destroyed, the other a massive x shaped scar on her face dangerously close to her left eye.  The former, Galatea had destroyed her eyes to enhance her second sight, the latter Miria had tried to rebel against her former masters and failed. Miria’s silver eyes were narrowed, “Is it normal for hunting parties to be so large for so simple a target?” Miria asked and Yuganna smiled softly,

“We're a lot different from what you are used to.  Mostly more powerful vampires have at least three or more Sharman to one Shamen.  The more experienced you are the easier a task will be after all and the less likely we are to lose someone out in the field.”

Miria hummed softly and tugged at her long ponytail, her hair refused to fully stay in said ponytail. “Then we're as ready as we can be I suppose.”

“Aye.” Yamara said, “We shalt speaketh with the humans upon our arrival.  They wilt helpeth us methinks enough to gather our hunting ground.”

 

~~~

 

The red haired woman, if she could be called that let out a low laugh.  So predictable. She'd grown bored of the little worms what she had to devour to keep herself functioning and now, they seemed to be on the alert, not that it mattered.  She stood before the mirror and smirked widely, “So we shall fight once more...Yamara, my sister. Too bad you wasted your time with those pathetic creatures while I gained our true power.  Destroying you will make for an interesting game, heh, heh, heh.”

The woman's black wings moved as she inspected them.  She would bring about the destruction of the one Flier that could stop her.  The Great One a farce told to little hybrids to keep them quiet, what had he given her but torture and pain?  The woman closed her eyes and looked to the small creatures she'd gone and taken for snacks. They were so weak and pathetic.  She wasn't hungry yet, so she would let them keep a little longer.  She stepped out into the dark night as she felt the need to unsettle her once sister.  Make Yamara see how weak she'd become. The woman let out an evil chuckle, the kind of wickedness few would indulge in and she grinned.  She would love to have a crack at her own sister. What were familiar bonds anyway? They mattered little and quite frankly she didn't care.

 

She made her way forwards and followed her senses.  Tonight she would rid herself of the last thing that stopped her achieving full power.

 

~~~

 

Yuganna froze.  She cast her eyes to Setonara and her Yami.  Both were frowning as a red haired woman appeared from nowhere, her eyes bloodshot and her body marred beyond recognition.

“W-who is that?!” Yuganna cried gaping at the woman as she frowned,

“What's this?  A little hatchling?  Oh Great One don't make me laugh.  As if children like you could hope to defeat me.”

Yamara gripped her blade, and a sigh escaped her, “I shouldeth known...Nami.”  Yuganna frowned,

“Yami?” She asked

“Ne'er didest I thinketh thou wouldest be behind this.  I wit nay yield sister.”

“How rich.  I'll end you where you stand.”

 

Spoiler

Names, characters and concepts I have little connection to or reason to care about. That's all this really was. I'm honestly not even sure what it's about after reading it. SOrry if that sounds a little harsh.

Also since Genki Desu is a question, it should be Genki Desca? Japanese has a very handy audible question mark on it's verbs that I kind of wish English had.

 

[Jotari]

1 hour ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

Wilkes

Don't y'all got school?

Anyway, yeah, there's a tie and about 14 hours of voting left. So that's neat. I would vote but I haven't read all the entries yet and might not have the chance to do so, unfortunately.

Sorry guys. I ended up making it a three way tie instead of breaking the tie we had already XD Fortunately, we can break the tie with the magic of proportional democracy!

The ranked poll for those that haven't voted that way.

https://rcv-app.firebaseapp.com/poll/-LcZLZICNxVw7bJ-S4CO/ballot

[TheSilentChloey]

19 minutes ago, Jotari said:

  Reveal hidden contents

Murdock's a bit out of character here. He's actually more of the very calm, confident and reasonable type when he's threatening people. I can barely even imagine him shouting. Also, explanations for the origins aside, while you're going with the Fire Emblem setting, I couldn't help but feel you should have just used Shanty Pete, Fire Emblem's own mythic pirate. Wouldn't really have changed anything of the story, but would have had a bit more cohesion with the series.

Fanfic specific stuff out of the way, on the subject of the writing. I'm not sure the narration style suited. It was a bit unfocused. Giving us a set up with one set of characters up to the introduction, and then following Hellfish with a more distant, overarching style that did give him much character. I know you were going for a sort of meme big personality, but I'm not sure it followed through. It's like there wasn't a core to the story. The point was to introduce Hellfish, but then that happened and the story kept going. Although the ending line is good, the story doesn't really give much good justification for ending at that point. If you know what I mean.

Like that you depicted Magvel and Elibe as existing in the same world though.

  Reveal hidden contents

I really liked the opening for this one. You manage to convey a fantastic sense of dread and threat using natural dialogue. The breaks in dialogue to deliver exposition were also important, well placed and didn't interfere with the pacing at all. Then stuff starts happening and, well I hesitate to say it falls apart, but the story suddenly changes into something very different. It feels like it's trying to be cool and actiony for the sake of it rather than actually trying to build to something with a theme. Which I guess it does achieve to some extent. I also thought the Thunderbird was 23 right up until the two of them actually interacted. In the confusion that was a really easy mistake to make and might need some more direct clarification.

  Reveal hidden contents

Names, characters and concepts I have little connection to or reason to care about. That's all this really was. I'm honestly not even sure what it's about after reading it. SOrry if that sounds a little harsh.

Also since Genki Desu is a question, it should be Genki Desca? Japanese has a very handy audible question mark on it's verbs that I kind of wish English had.

 

Not surprised about that since I threw it together.

 

Not that it's a fair excuse but I'd rather have stuck with the original entry since it fit the theme better but Ana had to whine because it was Shadow Tactician Grima and ST Grima wasn't original enough for her apparently despite the fact he's his own character and merely shares the name with Awakening's Grima give or take a couple of characteristics that was necessary to keep to at least make him stand on his own as a Grima in title- at least the intention was to.

 

Nami...well she has a brilliant backstory I couldn't use here because M-Rated material so I did a lot of short hand on her that probably didn't make a fuck's worth of sense and Yamara wasn't the best choice for this prompt because holy shit her speech is a pain to write.  As well as Yugiatemu's.  My best Japanese on display from what little I did in school.

If anyone is actually interested in Nami's backstory I'd be happy to share it via PM, or here if there is enough interest.

 

Also the reworked Dragon's First Mission is likely going to hit 10K words plus I feel.  Much longer than 1Kish words it was before.

[Anacybele]

5 hours ago, TheSilentChloey said:

Ana had to whine because it was Shadow Tactician Grima and ST Grima wasn't original enough for her apparently despite the fact he's his own character and merely shares the name with Awakening's Grima give or take a couple of characteristics that was necessary to keep to at least make him stand on his own as a Grima in title- at least the intention was to.

...EXCUSE ME?!

I merely pointed out that your original entry broke one of ANONYMOUSSPEED'S RULES. My hatred for Grima has NOTHING to do with anything here. I don't care if you had used fucking Swiper the fox from Dora the Explorer for your entry's villain, it's still not a brand new character of your own creation like Anon asked for. You broke the rule, I pointed it out. That isn't whining, that's calling someone out when they break a rule, and that's what you did. It's not my fault you broke a rule.

Stop fucking saying it's all my fault you couldn't use your entry when you only have yourself to blame.

Edited April 20, 2019 by Anacybele

[Ottservia]

so what are we gonna do about this three way tie? well if it comes to that anyway we still have about 5 hours left

[Anacybele]

58 minutes ago, Ottservia said:

so what are we gonna do about this three way tie? well if it comes to that anyway we still have about 5 hours left

Good question, yeah. xP

[TheSilentChloey]

3 hours ago, Anacybele said:

...EXCUSE ME?!

I merely pointed out that your original entry broke one of ANONYMOUSSPEED'S RULES. My hatred for Grima has NOTHING to do with anything here. I don't care if you had used fucking Swiper the fox from Dora the Explorer for your entry's villain, it's still not a brand new character of your own creation like Anon asked for. You broke the rule, I pointed it out. That isn't whining, that's calling someone out when they break a rule, and that's what you did. It's not my fault you broke a rule.

Stop fucking saying it's all my fault you couldn't use your entry when you only have yourself to blame.

Well you should have let Annon point that out himself, or perhaps just docked points off said entry.  Like I said we live and learn.

Also chill out.  There is no need to throw that kind of swearing around.  Small wonder you get into so much heat :/ especially when you act like that.

I get you don't like the shoe being on the other foot here, but at the end of the day, what's done is done, let's just leave sleeping dogs lie.

 

As for the three way tie there is the ranked poll that Jotari mentioned why not use that to break the it?

[Anacybele]

39 minutes ago, TheSilentChloey said:

Also chill out.  There is no need to throw that kind of swearing around.  Small wonder you get into so much heat :/ especially when you act like that.

There was no need for you to flame me the way you did either.

Edited April 21, 2019 by Anacybele

[Shoblongoo]

You two bicker like an old Jewish couple.

[Anacybele]

5 minutes ago, Shoblongoo said:

You two bicker like an old Jewish couple.

This made me chuckle. lol

But in all seriousness, I do apologize. The bickering is starting to go on too much.

[Ottservia]

can't we all just be friends here? sheesh. Y'all need a snickers

[Anacybele]

1 minute ago, Ottservia said:

can't we all just be friends here? sheesh. Y'all need a snickers

Good question. LOL but too bad I don't have a Snickers right now. Maybe tomorrow morning for Easter though. :P

[TheSilentChloey]

35 minutes ago, Anacybele said:

Good question. LOL but too bad I don't have a Snickers right now. Maybe tomorrow morning for Easter though. :P

Actually already Easter where I am...though I be a day ahead of you all.

[Dragoncat]

Time for my two cents. Ana, yeah, that swearing was a bit too much. But yeah. Let's drop it.

Give me a day or two and I'll see if I can break the tie.

[Ottservia]

1 minute ago, Dragoncat said:

Time for my two cents. Ana, yeah, that swearing was a bit too much. But yeah. Let's drop it.

Give me a day or two and I'll see if I can break the tie.

tie just broke by someone's vote now if no one makes another in the next hour and a half we'll be good

[Anacybele]

Actually, it looks like someone deleted their vote for one entry and put it on a different one. Kinda stinks for Ottservia, his was the entry to get the vote taken away. Sorry man. :(

[Ottservia]

3 minutes ago, Anacybele said:

Actually, it looks like someone deleted their vote for one entry and put it on a different one. Kinda stinks for Ottservia, his was the entry to get the vote taken away. Sorry man. :(

ehh it's whatever just gotta do better next time I suppose. Would be lying to say I wasn't disappointed though

Edited April 21, 2019 by Ottservia

[Anacybele]

1 minute ago, Ottservia said:

ehh it's whatever just gotta do better next time I suppose

Yeah, that is true.

[Ottservia]

I just hope whatever prompt @SoulWeaver selects is something I can use to make some condolences and tributes

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

I hope it’s beginner friendly. @SoulWeaver, can you do something like that?

[TheSilentChloey]

2 hours ago, Azure in a Roundabout said:

I hope it’s beginner friendly. @SoulWeaver, can you do something like that?

It'd depend on what prompt is made but tbh just about any prompt is beginner friendly unless it calls for previous works to be utilised in some way.