- Genres
- Magical, Fantasy, Supernatural, Sci Fi, Steam Punk, Noir, HORROR, and I'm willing to try Romance.
Iwaku City reveled in the perpetual gloom cast by Diana's space station above them. Crawling from their nooks and hiding places the disheveled citizens flocked toward their savior. For weeks the city had shivered beneath the thumb of the Elders and freedom was a draft some thought would never come. Rory was gone and his Knights with him. The throne of Iwaku sat silent for the first time since the Admin war. Even with the scourge defeated, the scars of their presence remained. Surviving n00bs were coralled together, surprisingly complacent in their defeat. Even the flamers looked on with uncharacteristic sorrow, as though wakened from a drunken dream to poverty and ruin.
Some simply killed their prisoners, token retaliation for the torture they had endured. No n00b raised a hand to stave off these fiery killers, wary eyes skyward at the harbinger of their defeat silently drifting.
Waiting.
A Hijacker pushed through the ranks of clustered n00bs, feverish eyes searching the face of each Flamer before dropping away. He kept low, the jeering of Iwakuans a rising din.
He could smell blood.
He found her huddled between two trolls, eyes a slack dusty glass. Both hands on her shoulders, the Hijacker shook roughly.
"Why stand with thy jaw aslack woman? Hath thee no shame?"
She stared at him, not seeing the swaddled face or worried eyes. She didn't blink.
Hissing beneath his cowl, the Hijacker pulled her from the trolls and into a mass of spammers. The creatures muttered without purpose, slang and references no longer shouted in exultation but in dismal habit.
"Too long we stand beneath The Hero," he warned, casting a worried glance at the station above, "What use has it for slaves? We breathe to but be slain as warning!"
"Fuck...off" It was a deadpan order, the flamer's red hair caressing the side of her face.
The swift sound of flesh against flesh was the retort, the Hijacker's hand risen and the flamer's face turned sideways. In a moment the woman was atop him, eyes twin pyres and fists furious with rising flames.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT YOU SHIT STAINED FUCKING PRICK?! I'LL BURN YOUR FUGLY FACE TO ASH!"
The Spammers acknowledged the exchange if only to move away, a circle around the strange pair growing as Iwaku rejoiced.
"Stay thy hand!" The Hijacker pleaded, both hands raised palm up, "Mine flesh is not thy enemy Nan! Gaze into mine eyes and leash thy fury! Tis Syracuse, tis SYRACUSE!"
"FUCK!" Nan growled releasing her flames into the scorched cobblestone, "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK." But her eyes were almost relieved, and the curses were not angry...they simply were her way of atonement...words she was bound to say by station.
Brushing auburn locks from her pale face, Syracuse let his hand rest against her skin for just a moment. The scalding heat was worth the burn and the knowledge she was fine gave comfort to his hammering heart. Deep inside the folds of fabric, he smiled.
"I forgive thee, Nan...my heart is glad to see thine eyes alight again," Shifting out from beneath her, the Hijacker pushed several spammers away and helped the woman to her feet, "But reunion must be held in stasis till long we set our backs to here."
She gave no fight, her muttered curses almost tearful...but no water fell from burning eyes.
Smiling despite the circumstance and relieved in even this annihilation, Syracuse grasped her arm.
And they were gone.
***********************
"Daddy? Who is the Hero?"
A legion strong, the people of Iwaku thronged across the rubble of their once defeat and cheered a woman no one knew. They clutched the flag of Rory, the only sigil they knew to represent a peace almost faded from their memory.
"The Hero is our savior, she came to send the monsters crawling back into their holes."
Many carried weapons, wary of the n00bs herded penitently together. Some men sang songs, deep voices praising Engel and lifting spirit into anthem. Children ran along the streets and kicked the bodies of the fallen horde. Stunned into a passive silence, the n00b forces gazed skyward like frightened savages. For now they were but prisoners by their once captured city...tomorrow they may die as Syracuse had said...as examples.
"Can she bring Mommy back?"
Behind them came the mourners, the sobbing faces downcast as a dirge beneath the cheers. Iwaku had not survived unscathed, the bodies gathering in the Courtyard of iwaku castle proof of that. They came to be buried, to be blessed, to be remembered. No victory came without its sacrifice, a statute firm upon the somber faces of survivors. Engels were placed upon the eyes of the departed as a gift for the Goddess to ferry them to peaceful shores. But not a soul existed among the scattered Iwakuans that wouldn't want them back.
"No darling, but Mommy is with Engel now and the Hero will heal our city."
Diana stood atop the battlements and looked down upon Iwaku with a smile on her face. Framed by the soft glow of the Space Station she seemed almost ethereal...angelic. Long had Iwaku been ruled by Angels and Demons and somehow seeing this hero as human and somehow better collectively assuaged Iwaku's heart. Already the brighter minds had gathered gear for broadcast, surviving journalists snapping photographs and interviewing survivors in a mad dash for the biggest scoop. Word had it Diana would be named the first Queen of Iwaku, a unanimous support rising from those she had saved. Rory was nowhere to be found and already the media spun it towards a valiant death. The Princes were gone from rule and new blood would steer Iwaku from its damaged course.
"Daddy? When I grow up...can I be like her?"
A Hero to vanquish Shadow.
A Queen to replace a King
A Hope to triumph Sorrow
A Face to be called Savior
Diana had come and all Iwaku City basked in her presence.
Peace had been restored.
"Of course my darling, we all should try to be like her. She gave us back our freedom."
****************************
The Harbinger landed not far from the Castle Battlement. As one of the few surviving ships from the war, Iwakuans clustered around it to witness who had lived. The hatch opened with a hiss, folding crimson stairs settling at an angle on chunks of mortar. A token few reporters left without a perfect view of Diana turned their attention to the new arrivals. Other Iwakuans looked on hopefully, too fearful of this savior to but their faith in her. They hoped for Rory...for the symbol of their kingdom and some even prayed for Asmodeus to step from the sleek vessel.
They would be disappointed.
Drake and Myrnodyn stepped out first, their eyes unanimously drawn to the immense space station hanging above them. The kitune had donned a better fitting pair of clothes and left his robes behind. The time of no involvement had passed and the kitsune could not idly watch this world continue on its mad sprint to drowned. Myrnodyn had tried to trim his beard but cut as unimpressive of a figure as he always had. Despite that fact, his face drew the cameras as questions of the Shapeshifters rose above the clamor.
Myrnodyn's face grew taut, the memory of the ruined kingdom too fresh in his mind.
Drake stepped forward to intervene but was dwarfed as Kariskan strode down the stairs to scowl a path for them to walk. The large man had come armed, insisting on being prepared and Drake reminded himself to thank the Grandmaster later...his intervention saved Myrn his anguish.
The rest trotted out with a mixture of emotions, met without interest or too much depending on their roles before.
Mccarthy and the ISAF were treated to icy stares and silence, the product of their folly earlier in the war. If they were bothered, they did not show it...walking smartly to keep up with Drake, Myrn, and Porg as they took the head of the procession forward. No Iwakuan gave them challenge as the group stepped to the castle grounds and looked up to behold Diana...and at first not a one spoke.
"The Hero has a space station..." Drake began at last, an eyebrow raising skeptically.
"She had to get here somehow." Myrn answered, his own face drawn into a frown.
The sound of humming engines drew eyes momentarily from Diana toward the approaching ship. Dropping out of the atmosphere, The Legacy cut an impressive figure...docking to the Space station far above their heads.
"Is that..." Dr. Grant began, his face twisted in confusion, "The Legacy?"
Summary: Diana has arrived, the prophecy is completed! People herd up the n00bs and cluster to hear her words. The media is working into overtime and people are muttering that Diana may be crowned Queen. The Harbinger crew arrived and are now below the Hero...Grant is surprised when the Legacy docks to the Space Station.
Some simply killed their prisoners, token retaliation for the torture they had endured. No n00b raised a hand to stave off these fiery killers, wary eyes skyward at the harbinger of their defeat silently drifting.
Waiting.
A Hijacker pushed through the ranks of clustered n00bs, feverish eyes searching the face of each Flamer before dropping away. He kept low, the jeering of Iwakuans a rising din.
He could smell blood.
He found her huddled between two trolls, eyes a slack dusty glass. Both hands on her shoulders, the Hijacker shook roughly.
"Why stand with thy jaw aslack woman? Hath thee no shame?"
She stared at him, not seeing the swaddled face or worried eyes. She didn't blink.
Hissing beneath his cowl, the Hijacker pulled her from the trolls and into a mass of spammers. The creatures muttered without purpose, slang and references no longer shouted in exultation but in dismal habit.
"Too long we stand beneath The Hero," he warned, casting a worried glance at the station above, "What use has it for slaves? We breathe to but be slain as warning!"
"Fuck...off" It was a deadpan order, the flamer's red hair caressing the side of her face.
The swift sound of flesh against flesh was the retort, the Hijacker's hand risen and the flamer's face turned sideways. In a moment the woman was atop him, eyes twin pyres and fists furious with rising flames.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT YOU SHIT STAINED FUCKING PRICK?! I'LL BURN YOUR FUGLY FACE TO ASH!"
The Spammers acknowledged the exchange if only to move away, a circle around the strange pair growing as Iwaku rejoiced.
"Stay thy hand!" The Hijacker pleaded, both hands raised palm up, "Mine flesh is not thy enemy Nan! Gaze into mine eyes and leash thy fury! Tis Syracuse, tis SYRACUSE!"
"FUCK!" Nan growled releasing her flames into the scorched cobblestone, "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK." But her eyes were almost relieved, and the curses were not angry...they simply were her way of atonement...words she was bound to say by station.
Brushing auburn locks from her pale face, Syracuse let his hand rest against her skin for just a moment. The scalding heat was worth the burn and the knowledge she was fine gave comfort to his hammering heart. Deep inside the folds of fabric, he smiled.
"I forgive thee, Nan...my heart is glad to see thine eyes alight again," Shifting out from beneath her, the Hijacker pushed several spammers away and helped the woman to her feet, "But reunion must be held in stasis till long we set our backs to here."
She gave no fight, her muttered curses almost tearful...but no water fell from burning eyes.
Smiling despite the circumstance and relieved in even this annihilation, Syracuse grasped her arm.
And they were gone.
***********************
"Daddy? Who is the Hero?"
A legion strong, the people of Iwaku thronged across the rubble of their once defeat and cheered a woman no one knew. They clutched the flag of Rory, the only sigil they knew to represent a peace almost faded from their memory.
"The Hero is our savior, she came to send the monsters crawling back into their holes."
Many carried weapons, wary of the n00bs herded penitently together. Some men sang songs, deep voices praising Engel and lifting spirit into anthem. Children ran along the streets and kicked the bodies of the fallen horde. Stunned into a passive silence, the n00b forces gazed skyward like frightened savages. For now they were but prisoners by their once captured city...tomorrow they may die as Syracuse had said...as examples.
"Can she bring Mommy back?"
Behind them came the mourners, the sobbing faces downcast as a dirge beneath the cheers. Iwaku had not survived unscathed, the bodies gathering in the Courtyard of iwaku castle proof of that. They came to be buried, to be blessed, to be remembered. No victory came without its sacrifice, a statute firm upon the somber faces of survivors. Engels were placed upon the eyes of the departed as a gift for the Goddess to ferry them to peaceful shores. But not a soul existed among the scattered Iwakuans that wouldn't want them back.
"No darling, but Mommy is with Engel now and the Hero will heal our city."
Diana stood atop the battlements and looked down upon Iwaku with a smile on her face. Framed by the soft glow of the Space Station she seemed almost ethereal...angelic. Long had Iwaku been ruled by Angels and Demons and somehow seeing this hero as human and somehow better collectively assuaged Iwaku's heart. Already the brighter minds had gathered gear for broadcast, surviving journalists snapping photographs and interviewing survivors in a mad dash for the biggest scoop. Word had it Diana would be named the first Queen of Iwaku, a unanimous support rising from those she had saved. Rory was nowhere to be found and already the media spun it towards a valiant death. The Princes were gone from rule and new blood would steer Iwaku from its damaged course.
"Daddy? When I grow up...can I be like her?"
A Hero to vanquish Shadow.
A Queen to replace a King
A Hope to triumph Sorrow
A Face to be called Savior
Diana had come and all Iwaku City basked in her presence.
Peace had been restored.
"Of course my darling, we all should try to be like her. She gave us back our freedom."
****************************
The Harbinger landed not far from the Castle Battlement. As one of the few surviving ships from the war, Iwakuans clustered around it to witness who had lived. The hatch opened with a hiss, folding crimson stairs settling at an angle on chunks of mortar. A token few reporters left without a perfect view of Diana turned their attention to the new arrivals. Other Iwakuans looked on hopefully, too fearful of this savior to but their faith in her. They hoped for Rory...for the symbol of their kingdom and some even prayed for Asmodeus to step from the sleek vessel.
They would be disappointed.
Drake and Myrnodyn stepped out first, their eyes unanimously drawn to the immense space station hanging above them. The kitune had donned a better fitting pair of clothes and left his robes behind. The time of no involvement had passed and the kitsune could not idly watch this world continue on its mad sprint to drowned. Myrnodyn had tried to trim his beard but cut as unimpressive of a figure as he always had. Despite that fact, his face drew the cameras as questions of the Shapeshifters rose above the clamor.
Myrnodyn's face grew taut, the memory of the ruined kingdom too fresh in his mind.
Drake stepped forward to intervene but was dwarfed as Kariskan strode down the stairs to scowl a path for them to walk. The large man had come armed, insisting on being prepared and Drake reminded himself to thank the Grandmaster later...his intervention saved Myrn his anguish.
The rest trotted out with a mixture of emotions, met without interest or too much depending on their roles before.
Mccarthy and the ISAF were treated to icy stares and silence, the product of their folly earlier in the war. If they were bothered, they did not show it...walking smartly to keep up with Drake, Myrn, and Porg as they took the head of the procession forward. No Iwakuan gave them challenge as the group stepped to the castle grounds and looked up to behold Diana...and at first not a one spoke.
"The Hero has a space station..." Drake began at last, an eyebrow raising skeptically.
"She had to get here somehow." Myrn answered, his own face drawn into a frown.
The sound of humming engines drew eyes momentarily from Diana toward the approaching ship. Dropping out of the atmosphere, The Legacy cut an impressive figure...docking to the Space station far above their heads.
"Is that..." Dr. Grant began, his face twisted in confusion, "The Legacy?"
Summary: Diana has arrived, the prophecy is completed! People herd up the n00bs and cluster to hear her words. The media is working into overtime and people are muttering that Diana may be crowned Queen. The Harbinger crew arrived and are now below the Hero...Grant is surprised when the Legacy docks to the Space Station.