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Literature
Operative
The sun was setting on Stormwind, and Mathias Shaw couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. It seemed like every day was getting shorter and shorter, but the reality was even worse: there was just too much to do, and not enough hours in the day to get it done. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent night’s rest.
Apparently, it hadn’t been enough to defeat the Legion. The forces of the Alliance and Horde had worked together for months without rest to drive back the demons, fight them on an alien world, and banish a literal god, and as soon as the dust settled? The Horde launched an offensive in Kalimdor. And suddenly, everyone was back at each others throats, as if nothing had changed.
Thud.
“More reports from Darkshore, Boss,” Reznik said, dropping a pile of papers nearly as tall as he was in front of Mathias’ face. “The Night Elves are holding the line, but barely.”
“What about our operatives
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Literature
Hubris and Slavery
It had been several weeks since Tuera had last set eyes on her father Venthrax... or, at least, the enormous mass of pan-dimensional planet destroying madness that her father had become. He was certainly a far cry from the fragile Dalaran mage that he used to be over a century ago, and very different than the demon lord who had abandoned the first Ashen Citadel nearly three decades previous.
She had been forced to run from him during their last encounter, but considering the scale of what she was up against, that was entirely expected. To make sure that this next encounter would play out different than before, Tuera and Sheason had been busy on a plan to even the odds.
Tuera had come across many beings in her travels that were stronger than Venthrax. He wasn’t all powerful (at least, not yet...). But the problem was that all those beings that could match him – or were his better – were fickle and unreliable. They all seemed to think of themselves
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Queen of the Masquerade: Elite Dangerous by Sheason Queen of the Masquerade: Elite Dangerous :iconsheason:Sheason 6 0 Unfortunately, I am the High Queen of Skyrim by Sheason Unfortunately, I am the High Queen of Skyrim :iconsheason:Sheason 3 0 Queen of the Masquerade: Nightsister Tuera by Sheason Queen of the Masquerade: Nightsister Tuera :iconsheason:Sheason 4 0 Tuera went to a ball. by Sheason Tuera went to a ball. :iconsheason:Sheason 4 2 New Devart avatar by Sheason New Devart avatar :iconsheason:Sheason 2 2
Literature
Throwing Rocks
A cracked and broken world was spinning wildly out of control. If there was any indigenous life left on the surface, the chaotic and frenzied motion as it careened through the depths of space would be practically imperceptible... but the lone figure walking along this desert of powdered bone was able to sense it instantly. She felt it just as easily as one would feel a breeze of wind on their face.
Something has just knocked this world out of orbit, she thought to herself. But right now... that is the least of this planet’s problems.
Something on the edge of the horizon was blotting out the red sky. It was even starting to eclipse the dim magenta light from the dying brown dwarf above her head. But while it was obvious Something was happening, the woman walking towards It was having difficulty describing what, exactly, It was.
A shifting miasma of lights and colors were stretched thin across the effervescent membranes packed tightly between universes a
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Queen of the Masquerade WIP (Updated 02 JUN 2018) by Sheason Queen of the Masquerade WIP (Updated 02 JUN 2018) :iconsheason:Sheason 14 13
Literature
Meanwhile, somewhere in space...
Sheason Fisher sat in the escape pod, scratching at his grey beard as he looked out the single circular porthole. He couldn’t help but sigh as he surveyed the carnage the two of them had just narrowly escaped, set to the backdrop of a curtain of stars. There had been a planet (technically a moon) down there. Key word: had. All that remained was nothing more than rocks, fire, and dust, spinning off wildly into the cosmos.
Sheason suddenly became aware of just how far away from home he had come. He was, at the moment, a very long way from Azeroth.
“This is certainly one hell of a mess you’ve gotten us in,” he growled at the other passenger in the escape pod, sitting opposite him.
“Oh, please...” Tuera sighed, slouching in her seat, and clutching her head. “It’s not like I was the one who blew up that moon.”
Tuera Ashama – former Coven High Witch of the Crimson Dagger, former Dark
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New Vegas 2288: Tuera by Sheason New Vegas 2288: Tuera :iconsheason:Sheason 6 3 ADVENT occupied Earth by Sheason ADVENT occupied Earth :iconsheason:Sheason 8 13 Boxonald Shaydvolt by Sheason Boxonald Shaydvolt :iconsheason:Sheason 6 5
Literature
Shadowblade
“So!” Tuera said, with only a little hint of forced cheer in her voice. “Are we ready to go?” Phyacair stared at her for several seconds; his rotten features were the epitome of exhausted dispassion.
“Very nearly, Mistress,” he eventually sighed. “Although, I can’t help but wonder. Has your sudden and rather drastic need for us to depart been brought on by the events which transpired earlier?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tuera said flatly, fooling absolutely no one.
“I do know what I’m talking about...” Phyacair shot back immediately.
~
Gadgetzan, earlier...
It was a relatively quiet evening in Gadgetzan. Of course, it was never truly quiet in this den of sin and vice. There was a general murmur of voices and engines that could be heard in the distance, occasionally punctuated by the odd squealing tire or the muffled pops of distant gunfire... even at its most sil
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Literature
Me's A Crowd
Last Sunday, in the Dreadscar...
It was another meeting of the Black Harvest, in a quiet pocket of the Dreadscar. Things were proceeding as they normally did, with normal business being discussed, and no one suspecting that what was about to come next was very much not normal.
Tuera smiled to herself in anticipation. Oh, this will be fun!
“So,” Karthys words echoed with the sounds of several voices, and he tapped the bottom of his scythe against the stone floor; the sound reverberated off everything, like he was striking a gong. “Does anyone else have something to present?” Tuera calmly lifted her hand into the sky.
“I have something, that might interest... at least, some of you...” Tuera smiled with a laugh, stepping back out of the circle. This was enough to raise a few eyebrows, since most warlocks who took the floor during meetings moved to the center of the circle, not outside it. “But I think, rather than te
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Stone Body by Sheason Stone Body :iconsheason:Sheason 9 5
Everything keeps getting broken beyond repair.

My copy of photoshop is now, officially, corrupted to the point of unusability. My tablet stopped working long ago. My computer keeps overheating. My chair is literally held together with duct tape.

And because my rent just recently went up, the money situation is even worse than before. And I was already living paycheck-to-paycheck. So I'm too poor to fix any of it.

deviantID

Sheason
Brady Shea
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States

Activity


Everything keeps getting broken beyond repair.

My copy of photoshop is now, officially, corrupted to the point of unusability. My tablet stopped working long ago. My computer keeps overheating. My chair is literally held together with duct tape.

And because my rent just recently went up, the money situation is even worse than before. And I was already living paycheck-to-paycheck. So I'm too poor to fix any of it.
This bloody site is constantly broken when it comes to uploading literature, like fanfiction.

Fair enough, I guess, it's built for artwork, not prose.

But, because I can't edit anything once it's been uploaded because of just how broken this site has become, I doubt I'm gonna be uploading any more stories here.

I'm not sure I'm going to upload anything else, if I'm honest, since my copy of photoshop is practically corrupted beyond salvaging, and my wacom tablet is broken, and I'm living paycheck to paycheck so I can't afford to fix those specific problems.

But, as it's clear that I've given up my greater ambitions and resigned myself to a life of failure, misery, and poverty, I've gone back to writing fanfiction.

If you want to read the continuation of that Sheason nonsense, Operative, you can read it at my fanfiction site. Specifically, under the name Same War, Different Day.
The sun was setting on Stormwind, and Mathias Shaw couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. It seemed like every day was getting shorter and shorter, but the reality was even worse: there was just too much to do, and not enough hours in the day to get it done. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent night’s rest.

Apparently, it hadn’t been enough to defeat the Legion. The forces of the Alliance and Horde had worked together for months without rest to drive back the demons, fight them on an alien world, and banish a literal god, and as soon as the dust settled? The Horde launched an offensive in Kalimdor. And suddenly, everyone was back at each others throats, as if nothing had changed.

Thud.

“More reports from Darkshore, Boss,” Reznik said, dropping a pile of papers nearly as tall as he was in front of Mathias’ face. “The Night Elves are holding the line, but barely.”

“What about our operatives we dispatched behind the lines?” Mathias asked his goblin number two. Reznik just pointed at somewhere in the middle of the stack.

“Report’s in there, Boss,” he said with a shrug. Mathias sighed again and gripped the bridge of his nose.

“Sum it up,” he grunted out with exasperation. “It’ll take me two hours – at best – to work through this pile.”

“They’re doing what they can to sabotage the Horde’s supply lines, and wreck the siege weapons before they can reach the front,” Reznik replied. “But it’s not enough. There’s too many of them, and not enough of us to make any meaningful progress before the reinforcements arrive.” Mathias buried his face in his hands, and the goblin made his way for the door. “Don’t work yourself too hard, boss. You won’t do anyone any good if you keel over.”

Reznik shut the door behind him as he left, and Mathias went back to his mountain of paperwork with a sense of weary resignation. However, he didn’t get far before he was interrupted by a much more unexpected intrusion.

“You know...” a gravelly voice spoke up from somewhere directly behind Mathias. “For the leader of the world’s preeminent intelligence agency, your office is stupidly easy to get into.”

Mathias knew that voice, and didn’t even bother to look up from his paperwork. He was too busy, and didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Sheason Fisher...” Mathias grumbled. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Sheason said simply, silently walking around Mathias’ desk. “Thought I’d check in on my old friend, see how you’re doing.”

Mathias looked up from his work, and locked Sheason with a suspicious, questioning gaze.

Something was wrong. Sheason Fisher was one of the most effective black op agents that SI:7 had ever produced, and was a veteran of the First, Second, and Third wars. He had ‘retired’ warlords, exposed traitors, and toppled governments back in the day. Only a handful of people still alive even knew about the existence of his file in SI:7 records, and of those, even fewer had the clearance to access it; even then, half of the file had been redacted. But Sheason hadn’t been an agent of SI:7 – hell, he hadn’t been a member of the Alliance – for years.

He wouldn’t be here unless he needed something.

Would he?

“What do you want?” Mathias asked, turning back to his mountain of paperwork. There was too much history between the two of them, that Mathias didn’t even bother trying to be subtle and just cut straight to the meat of things.

“How’s the Uncrowned holding up since I left?” Sheason asked, leaning against the nearby wall; the longer he stayed still, the more it seemed like he was blending in with every shadow on the wall.

“Officially, as leader of SI:7, I have gone on record condemning the actions of the extra-national terrorist organization known as ‘The Uncrowned.’ But, unofficially?” Mathias cleared his throat. “Not well.”

“Let me guess...” he began, chuckling grimly, but Mathias cut him off before he could actually guess.

“Garona and VanCleef had a bit of a... disagreement. Of sorts. As far as I’m aware, the Uncrowned haven’t actually met since the Legion was defeated at Antorus and Sargeras was imprisoned.”

“To be honest, I’m amazed it didn’t fall apart sooner,” Sheason said, chuckling one final time. “Do you think Vanessa is going to be a problem?”

“Fisher, is there a point to this? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a bit busy at the moment,” Mathias gestured to the gargantuan pile of paperwork cluttering every inch of his desk.

“Yeah, I heard about both sides restarting that stupid pissing contest,” Sheason said, stepping away from the wall. “I knew that was gonna happen. I tried to warn you before I left, but I guess you didn’t listen to me.”

“Yes I did,” Shaw said with surprising force, setting down the documents in his hand. “But if you recall, at the time, the war against the Legion was at its apex. We had our hands full, and I wasn’t going to burden King Anduin about the potential of a Horde attack based on the gut feeling of a man who is supposed to have been dead for years, and who technically doesn’t exist.”

“Fair enough...” Sheason shrugged.

“So, was it worth it?” Mathias asked. “Leaving Azeroth to chase after that half-demon witch, just when we could’ve used your talents against the Legion most?”

Sheason didn’t say anything at first. He honestly didn’t know how he could explain to Mathias what had happened the last few months in a way he could understand. Hell, even Sheason had a hard time believing some of it. Spaceships, planets exploding, different universes, a hated enemy becoming an ally, and killing a nascent Elder-God... it was all a bit much. Mathias would probably think Sheason had lost his mind.

Then again, Sheason started comparing that turn of events to the fight against the Legion, and it suddenly didn’t seem all that far-fetched.

“Yeah, it worked out in the end,” he finally said, before adding “More or less.”

“So, does this mean you’re here for a job?” Mathias asked. “My offer from a few months ago is still on the table, after all. We could use your specific skill set, now more than ever. Especially after that failed Gathering in the Arathi Highlands...” Mathias cleared his throat. “Say the word, and I’ll have your Operative status reinstated.” Mathias paused, and then added with a morbid chuckle: “...assuming you get that Horde tattoo taken off your arm, first.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Sheason said, flexing his right arm and clenching and un-clenching his fist several times. “I had to get that arm replaced, and it didn’t really feel right to re-do the ink with Sylvanas on the throne...”

“... replaced?” Mathias asked, unable to hide his confusion. Sheason cursed silently under his breath. Mentioning that he stopped by a planet with a Rejuvenation Clinic before returning to Azeroth might - no, would - definitely be too much. After all, he’d had most of his organs replaced, the cartilage in all his joints was repaired, his bones were strengthened, his muscle density was enhanced, and he even got a pair of fresh eyes. The procedure had probably added thirty or forty years to his life, at the very least.

“It’s... a long story,” Sheason said simply. “It’s not important.” Mathias narrowed his eyes, obviously suspicious, but he decided not to press the issue.

“Right...” Mathias muttered, before returning to his paperwork. “Either way, the offer is still open.”

“What’s wrong?” Sheason asked, folding his arms across his chest again. “You’ve never been this thirsty for me to come back to The Agency before.”

“I’m just... a little stressed,” Mathias gripped his forehead, and started to rub his eyes. “The way things have been going lately, all-out war could break out within the hour. And here I am, stuck behind a desk, polishing a seat with my ass, unable to do a damn thing...”

“That’s the best place for you,” Sheason said, as diplomatically as he could muster. He had a sneaking suspicion where this was headed, and he didn’t like it one bit. “In all the years we’ve known each other, I’ve never met anyone else as talented as you at deciphering enemy intelligence. You’re able to see patterns in troop movements that other people just can’t...”

“That’s nice of you to say,” Mathias replied, refusing to look up at Sheason. “But even so... I just feel like I could be doing more, if I could just get out there...”

Sheason carefully placed both hands on Mathias’ desk, and fixed him with a gaze made of ice water. Mathias, uncertainly, looked up.

“Okay, you and I have been friends for a long time, so I want you to understand that what I’m about to say is for your own good...” Sheason began. “Shaw? You are utter shit at field work.”

Mathias did a double take, and looked at Sheason in shock and indignation, momentarily unable to formulate any kind of response. So Sheason continued.

“Do you remember what happened the last time you got a bit restless, and thought you could do more ‘good’ closer to the frontline? You should. It wasn’t that long ago. Do you remember how it ended? Because I certainly do, I had to help clean up that mess. You were captured by the Burning Legion, impersonated by a Dreadlord – for months – and one of your best agents was murdered, inches from her goal, as a result.”

Mathias finally found his voice.

“Death is a risk we all accept as part of the job, Fisher...” Mathias growled, getting up from his seat and matching Sheason’s angry gaze. “Amber Kearnen knew those risks, same as the rest of us. You should know that better than anyone.”

“It was an unnecessary risk, and you know that, Shaw...” Sheason growled back. “If you hadn’t gotten restless... if you hadn’t presented such a juicy target... if you had just stuck to what you’re best at... then Detheroc – using your authority – would not have ordered her assassinated, and Amber Kearnen might still be alive. Her blood is on your hands, all because you got tired of sitting behind a desk. And you should never forget that.”

The two of them glared at each other for several seconds, before Mathias finally backed off, and sat down behind his desk once more.

“So that’s a ‘no’ to my offer, I take it?” Mathias asked. Sheason sighed, removing his hands from Mathias’ desk and standing back up straight.

“Look, no matter what... I’m always going to be your friend, Shaw. We’ve got too much history for that not to be the case. Hell, I still remember the day Pathonia handed you the reigns to The Agency. But... I’m no patriot for the Alliance. Not anymore. I can’t return to SI:7, because these... these old hatreds between the Horde and Alliance are never going away. If working together to beat the Legion once and for all couldn’t get both sides to finally lay down arms, then nothing will. And I can’t be part of that madness any more.”

The room was silent for several seconds.

“So why even come back to Azeroth at all?” Mathias asked. “As far as I can tell, you had a way out, and the means to never come back. I mean, if this ‘madness’ is inevitable, as you say...” Sheason didn’t answer for several seconds. Eventually, he shrugged.

“Like I told you before, I just wanted to check in on my old friend.” Sheason replied. “And I guess... you might say I was feeling a bit homesick.”

Mathias sighed, shook his head, and turned back to his paperwork.

“You won’t be able to stay neutral, you know,” Mathias said, trying to inject as much gravitas into his words as possible. “Not with this storm billowing on the horizon, and not with Azerite starting to crop up everywhere. Everything is going to get swallowed up by it, and you'll be forced to pick a side...”

Mathias looked up, only to realize that his office was now completely empty.

Sheason was long gone.
Operative
Here we go, another misguided foray into fanfiction.

I wanted to get this done before Tuesday, when the next part of the pre-expansion event takes place, and we get one step closer to Battle for Azeroth.

Consider this a soft reboot; there will be occasional references to past excursions, but nothing too important, and hopefully this will be a good starting point going forward. 

Assuming anyone is even interested in following the adventures of Warcraft!Sheason as he returns to Azeroth.

NOTE: I had to delete the previous file and then re-upload it because, for some reason, the "edit" button wasn't working. And wouldn't you know it? There was a FORMATTING ERROR near the end of the text.
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I am home from the Day Job.

I don't have to go back until the 23rd.

My vacation has officially begun.

Maybe now I can actually get some real work done.
I'm getting quite worried.

I haven't made any significant progress of any kind on that Space Trucker story I've been trying to write since I finished the New Vegas fanfic. Hell, I don't even have a NAME for this thing. And it's making me look back on the New Vegas story with a bit of concern.

Was I only able to finish it because the story was, essentially, already written for me? I mean, the two parts of that where I actually controlled the flow and details of the plot - One Dark Knight in Vegas and Dark Side of the Moon - were probably the worst received chapters. And even I will admit that they were incredibly derivative and fairly basic. Not many twists and turns. Nothing really interesting or profound was said or done...

It's really making me question things. Am I having so much trouble with this because I have nothing significant to even say?

The last time I felt this level of uncertainty was back when my illusions about George Lucas were shattered (thanks to the prequels), and it made me question if my goal to become a filmmaker was what I really wanted to do. This was a goal I'd had since I was 3 years old, when I saw Star Wars for the first time. Suddenly, the future - which had seen so clear and focused up to that point - was now cast in doubt. That hesitation and uncertainty was the moment things started to go downhill in my life, because I made the mistake of not even applying to the university I wanted to get into; being an impetuous and idiotic teenager, I ended up deliberately sabotaging myself because I wasn't sure if that was truly what I wanted.

Ever since then, things have just gotten worse. I've made mistake after mistake, and I've felt cast adrift in life for years, unable to regain control of things. Which, I suppose, is why I'm almost 31 now, and have no career except a dead-end job, I'm living paycheck to paycheck, and it feels like none of my dreams are ever going to become a reality.

The New Vegas story gave me a goal, something to strive for, a purpose. Rather than being a filmmaker, I could write novels! Yes, that's what I should do! All I have to do is prove that I can finish it...

...but it was someone else's idea.

And now that it's come time for me to use my own ideas, I'm coming up empty.

And it's making me worried.

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:iconavenger09:
avenger09 Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
He's back. Like some kind of fiery, proud bird, if such a thing has a name.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiLiBM…
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:iconsheason:
Sheason Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Reply
:icondaqueenruler:
DAQueenRuler Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2018
Hi Sheason
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:iconavenger09:
avenger09 Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Lego Overwatch if that is of interest to you. www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZTyre…
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:iconavenger09:
avenger09 Featured By Owner Oct 3, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Who is your favorite Chosen from XCOM 2? 
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:iconavenger09:
avenger09 Featured By Owner May 18, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Came across this mod and thought you might enjoy it for it's Lore references www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Q9hx3…
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:iconcc3theartist:
CC3TheArtist Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2017  Student Interface Designer
Here take a llama (:  Hooray Llama Badges 
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:iconsheason:
Sheason Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
You know, all the years I've been on this website, and I still don't understand what the Llama's are or what they're for.

I mean... thanks. But I don't get it.
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:iconcc3theartist:
CC3TheArtist Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2017  Student Interface Designer
sorry but it can not be returned jeje 
bye KirbyWink 
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:iconavenger09:
avenger09 Featured By Owner Edited Nov 21, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
It's kinda sad/weird how all the previous Games antagonists have been declawed in the sequels. 
The Supermutants who once threatened to overrun humanity and convert them to their Unity. Are have become a common sight with many turning out to be all right people. 

The Enclave. Scattered to the four winds like leaf's from a felled tree, unlikely ever to sprout with the same might in the Radioactive soil. 

Makes me wonder how the Institute will fair in Future instalments. 
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