Two Destroyers, Chapter 1 (Revised) -- ProtectorThe flame in Naida's palm flickered against the mist. The fire provided light on the path and served as the embodiment of her whim. Mist tore small wisps of black smoke from the flame. She used the other half of Geldbane's gift to urge the cool murk away. The haze served as a dire warning. She walked the familiar trail between the two forests; Each were home to a fearsome dragon.
A dream from the night before had led her there. It brought a clear message; Someone needed her help in the forest clearing ahead. In a trance, they had wandered into the trees. That trespass would mean death.
Naida halted. A faint shuffle burned in her ears. The sound of leather creaked, plates of metal shifted against one another. Darkness closed around her slowly. She realized she had only heard the sound of her own armor against her body. In her distraction, the forest devoured her guiding flame.
This is foolish.
If It Meant Living: Tales - LeviathanIf It Meant Living: Tales - Leviathan2 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
If It Meant Living: Tales
Title: If It Meant Living: Tales – "Leviathan"
Game: Mass Effect Trilogy
Disclaimer: Bioware owns all rights to Mass Effect and its characters
Content Warning: Language, Violence
November, 2190: Four Years After the End of the Reaper War
Blackdamp, Asteria: Hekate System, Hades Nexus
Liara swore she could feel her skin drying and cracking apart as soon as they stepped off the transport and into the spaceport. She hadn’t been on a planet this hot outside of a combat mission since the eight months spent on Therum a lifetime ago…and even Therum hadn’t been this damn dry.
As she glanced over at Shepard walking alongside her, she suddenly wondered why she continued to adhere to the customary Asari style of dres
The Road Not Taken: 1945Turtledove's "Road not Taken" in 1945.The Road Not Taken: 19452 years ago in Settings More Like This
In this world, another bunch of pre-scientific aliens descended upon British India in October, 1945, with plunder and conquest in mind, only to run into machine guns, anti-aircraft artillery, overlapping fields of fire, etc. The dark red, somewhat slimy and rather appendage-gifted Ssslethy being rather less cute than the teddy-bearish Roxolani, and the Indian Army of 1945 being a trifle more ruthless than the US army of 2039, none of the invaders survived: however, the antigravity generator for one of their shuttles was captured intact.
Earth scientists have spent the last 65 years banging their heads against the incontrovertible fact that if you arrange copper, quartz crystals, and a piece of magnetite in a certain configuration, and rotate it, you get an antigravity field, in spite of there being no discernable reason why this should be so. Quantum mechanics has gone off in some very odd directions, most of them dead ends, since 1945, as have th
The Dragon MechanicThe door was locked.The Dragon Mechanic5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
* * *
Septimer had vague memories of being six, curled up in her uncle's lap while he sat at his great big ink-stained writing table and sketched out diagrams of gears and machines and dragons. His clothes smelled subtly of car exhaust and molten metal, but it was a smell she loved because it was her uncle's smell. In his dim study, the only light was that of his tall desk lamp and Loki's red eyes, like dying embers, burning faintly in the shadows at the back of the room. Her great mechanical heartbeat filled the room with a slow, deep, steady pulse.
While her uncle worked and Septimer watched, her eyes barely peeking over the rim of the desk, he would tell her of how Loki's namesake, a trickster god of Norse mythology, wrapped himself in a cloak of feathers and flew to the ends of the earth in search of Thor's hammer. She dreamt endlessly of climbing onto Loki's back and sitting just between the giant's beating wings, wrapping her arms around his neck while the wo
Transhuman MegalomaniaDefinition: Not a new mental illness. Refers to victims of megalomania whose modified abilities justify the subject's sense of importance.Transhuman Megalomania7 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Due to the ubiquitous nature of mods, cybernetic, nanotechnological, bioengineered, psionic, or transubstantiative, it is inevitable that certain megalomaniacs are also high-powered modders. Ascertaining whether the illness induced the subject's extensive modification or if modding cements the illness has generally been dismissed as a chicken-or-the-egg conundrum.
There is little to be done for treatment of hyper-megalomaniacs, other than necessary acts of subdual and detainment. Treatment can begin after the subject is forcibly deprived of mods and demoted to a baseline megalomania status.
The Satyr's CrownThe Satyr's CrownThe Satyr's Crown3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Beyond my village is a wood where demons lie in wait.
None dare to tempt them with their blood, nor gamble with their fate.
Yet late one night I wake alone within the forest, deep;
unsure of how I left my home while still in bed, asleep.
My gown is torn where I had walked through brambles with bare feet.
In pain and sweat I had not balked at summer's nighttime heat.
I shake to think of what I've done; I'd meet my end for sure.
Yet when I turn as if to run I see that I've been lured.
Before me stands a satyr, tall, with pan flute in his hand.
He'd played a tune that, to me, called; I'd come at his command.
At first I fear to look upon the demon's monstrous face,
but then I see the spiraled horns are fastened on with lace.
Atop a mask that hides his eyes, entangled in his hair,
a crown of thorn and thistle lies; in power and despair.
I know him then, and fear no more. I take his hands in mine.
I'd met him in a dream before, and kissed his lips that time.
Tip of AbandoningThere once was a feelingTip of Abandoning1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of fright, of dark shadows covering me like a skin, being absorbed in my nerves like itchy lotion, freezing my bones and aggressively filling them with helpless fear, agony and ear shattering cries.
There once was a feeling
Of Emptiness, my heart breaking itself to particles, A harsh though of loneliness dipped deep in my wailing soul, trapped within myself, can’t break free from nothingness.
There once was a feeling
As if I’m drowning, in the deepest crevices of the hungry, unfaithful ocean. Emotion of roaring in timid suffocation, drowning down for long painful hours without hitting the sea bed.
Introduction to The Dance of Fate"The end of the world. When this matter is brought up there is bound to be discussion of religious catastrophes, meteor collisions and the obvious- human error. But when it came down to those moments in history, we, the humanity, braced for the end... And nothing happened. But something feels different this time...Introduction to The Dance of Fate2 years ago in Settings More Like This
But let me start from the beginning, from the building of Stonehenge. Despite popular belief, the site has not existed for many thousand years; it was built and organised by three individuals who had an idea: an idea to protect the future of this world from a power which wants to control it. You may know them from the Arthurian legends: King Arthur, his father Uther and their advisor Merlin. You might tell me that this is just blatant fantasy, legends with no proof of existence. But what if I tell you the same power those three tried to protect us from was the same power which made them a myth, and that the battle of Camlann was even more than deciding the fate of a mythical