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#post post apocalypse
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I 3D printed some coins from my world
Originally posted to r/worldbuilding, I'm moving my stuff to Tumblr because of the recent Reddit shenanigans.
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These coins are from Bluelake, the largest city-state in the desert of Laroth. The silver ones are called senn, the gold ones glen and the copper ones fen. The smaller silver and copper coins are called valsenn and valfen.
1 gold coin is worth 10 silver, 1 silver is worth 10 copper and the smaller variants are each worth 1/4 of the larger coin.
The senn that's been cut into 3 is called an arrowhead because of the shape and is worth 1/3 senn.
They are cast then sanded down like ancient Chinese coins, and that is why they have a hole in the middle, so they can be put on a rod and rotated to sand them down (the triangular ones are reuloux triangles so it works for them too).
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corvidist · 24 days
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Life Could be a Dream
Alternate timeline, thousands of years in a future where both Directors and Humans survived the anthropocene extinction. - A group of friends chill on the beach.
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manybackflips · 19 days
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Wait, since Guilty Gear has radio in-universe, what do you think plays on it. We know it plays public broadcast as seen in Strive and Xrd, but knowing humanity, it also plays songs too. What kind of songs would play?
Guilty Gear is in post-post-apocalypse right now, so it most likely plenty of patriotic anthems, probably some rebel tunes, and a smattering of pre-Crusades songs. Probably some of the big ones. If copyright wasn’t an issue, Daisuke would put Queen on in the background of every single scene in the story mode, just jiving on the radio in the background.
Most things, like most classical artists except for the most well known, are probably completely forgotten to the bowels of time to the general populace now, forever left unknown.
I… don’t know how to feel about that.
Bangers are blasting 24/7 on that radio though, I know that much.
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greatwyrmgold · 10 months
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I find it so frustrating when people complain that Ward isn't very post-apocalyptic. Like, yes, that is accurate, but you don't see people complaining that Twig isn't very steampunk, do you?
It is true that Gold Morning was a world-shaping destructive events. Other things that are true about Ward's backstory:
The world had been preparing for an apocalyptic event for years, creating portals to other worlds and setting up what they'd need on the other side.
Cauldron had been preparing for this exact apocalyptic event for decades, stockpiling the resources and making the connections humanity would need to rebuild.
There are several other Earths largely untouched by Gold Morning, who are supporting Gimel's construction and such through various means and for various reasons.
We're not talking about a world suddenly razed to the ground and then two years later it's back to a shoddy approximation of normal. We're talking about a world which was expecting something like this, which had preparations in place for rebuilding, and also connections to massive pools of basically untouched resources and industry. Also, superpowers.
Plus...post-apocalypse has been done endlessly before. Post-post-apocalypse, where society is starting to rebuild despite everything, are much rarer. I'm glad Wildbow decided to take the road less traveled; what would get get from reading the surviving Undersiders Mad-Maxing it across a half-rebuilt industrial zone? And I'm glad Wildbow established reasons that the Earth Bet refugees would be able to rebuild (or at least that they could fall back on what was pre-built) back in the middle of Worm.
Is Ward's worldbuilding perfect? Of course not. Compared to Worm and the Otherverse, it's weaker. But so is almost every setting! Yeah, there are holes I'd like filled in; more detail about the organizations and institutions trying to control the Megalopolis's chaos, details about what other Earths are getting out of their trade deals, some idea of why the ramshackle bodge-job of a justice system is seen as legitimate in a world where elections are still a WIP, etc.
But Ward's world is still sturdier than most worlds, whether superhero, post-apocalyptic, or biopunk. Which sounds like an odd thing to specify, but it's a segue to me arguing that Twig's worldbuilding is even worse than Ward's. I mean, the Crown dismantled the Anglican Church and expected that to improve its control over the citizenry?
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canyouhearthelight · 11 months
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The Miys, Epilogue
Yep. You read that right - this is it. At least for now.... I made the decision to end the journey when the journey actually stopped.  Including the fact that it stopped very abruptly.
 Do not skip: Content/Trigger Warning for gore, blood, and injuries at the beginning of this chapter. There is a line of three asterisks (***) to denote where that ends. I am not kidding, I had to revoke a beta-reader’s access to the master doc until I wrote the rest, out of concern.
I cannot thank everyone enough for this wild, wild ride: @baelpenrose for all your moral and written support (and for the part of this chapter I just had to warn about!), @charlylimph-blog for being my third sister essentially, @drbibliophile, @quantumized-insanity, @werewolf2578, @lavcircuts, @janeshadow, @generalperfectionbread, @mustachebatschaos, @dierotenixe, @1978sah, and anyone else I may have missed.  Thank you!
I came to, gasping. Smoke filled my nostrils, and my eyes refused to see.  Panic filled me and I reached for my face even as I shouted hoarsely for my family. Only one hand would obey me, but it was enough to feel the sticky texture of blood glueing my eyes shut.
I worked to open my eyes, still shouting and straining my ears for anything.  Finally, I could open my eyes and sweep the ruins of the bridge. 
Maverick’s face lay in ruins, blood dripping down both sides, his chest caved in by the impact as he slumped over the controls that had smashed in his ribs. Beside him, my sister, teeth clenched in defiance, horrifyingly small in the death that had actually claimed her. I looked around, my muscles screaming as I clawed, frantically, at my restraints.
Scrambling out from under the table did not reveal anything better. Arthur had apparently managed to free himself shortly before I’d woken, but he had succumbed to his wounds trying to get to our pilots, and I could see the blood around his mouth, the way the impact had destroyed…
Charly…oh gods, Charly was. Charly’s face. Her spine was…it was wracked, twistingly broken, and she’d obviously died before waking. I tried to crawl towards where Grey had been strapped in, or Hunyh, but…my legs weren’t…
I screamed, coughing up more blood, trying to…
Some of the ship’s damaged hull screamed for me. Some of it crumbled, and I saw two more of my colleague’s mangled bodies come into view as their seats twisted around beneath the already ruined deck. That was Eino…I couldn’t even recognize the other’s face beneath the mask of blood, but based on the build, maybe, maybe Hunyh? 
Parvati…
Xiomara had died next to Parvati, and seeing the way Parvati had gone was probably the bitterest. Her last act had been to scrawl on the walls something, some little symbol I wished I could recognize, above where she and Xiomara lay.
I couldn’t see Pranav and Alice, but there was…it was quiet, and my vision was starting to tunnel. I tried screaming one more time, found myself coughing, choking on the blood from where my throat had torn.  Convulsions wracked my body, pain surging from limbs that were broken - 
***
“Sophia!” a voice shouted. “Sophia!”
I woke, gasping for air like I had been drowning.  The pain was a phantom sensation, and I started sobbing when I saw the person shaking me.
Maverick, eyes wide, hands firm but gentle on my shoulders, slumped in relief. “It was a nightmare, love. You were screaming.”
The tension left my body and I rested my forehead on his perfectly intact chest, feeling his hear beating strongly against my cheek. “I thought they had gone,” I admitted. “I haven’t had one in years.”
“It’s okay,” he assured me, pulling me onto his lap. “We’re okay. We’re here, we made it.”
“Conor isn’t here.” Damn the tears and the sniff that betrayed me.
Mav squeezed me tighter. “Love, he’s staying with the children, you know that. It’s just for a month, then he’ll be back. They turn five soon - “
“I know,” I sulked. “Then they can come stay with us when it’s his time to keep them.”
“And he can stay here,” Maverick finished. “You fully supported the proposal when Hannah and Antoine came to you about it.”
I rubbed my forehead and mentally cursed myself. “How was I supposed to know that Conor would be one of the first fathers?”
“Two more weeks, then he’s back for a month,” Maverick repeated. “And it’s not like we never see him around or have meals with him.”
Didn’t make me any happier about the situation, but he was right. Despite what could charitably be called a rough start, the colony had been very stable after the first five years. The Council - at the time in a state of peaceful transition while roles were voted on and handed off - had agreed to slowly start allowing children, but with one caveat.  Due to the need for genetic diversity, and to provide stability, they would live in their own quarters, later to be shared with their siblings, and their parents would come to them until they started school.  Once school started, all parents were required to live as close as possible to where education would take place, and the children essentially lived with both families as they saw fit.
In theory.  Conor’s twin girls were some of the colony’s eldest children, and fortunately we got along very well with their mother and her wife, who lived nearby anyway.  Even officially retired, a part of me was holding my breath to see how the parents who had to relocate handled things.
“Those girls had better be glad they’re cute,” I grumbled, snuggling in to try to get some more sleep before my shift started.
Several restless hours of dozing later, I felt my jaw pop as I yawned my way into the still-rebuilding Archives.  A precious cup of high octane tea in one hand, a bundle of thick paper in the other, I found my alcove and moved the light closer.  Great, more medical papers, I sighed to myself.  Having good penmanship had its ups and downs, the current ‘down’ being that I mostly got stuck transcribing essential documents that were less interesting than watching moss grow.
There hadn’t been time to commit all of the Archives to crystal, and on a planet with humidity both above and below ground, there were entirely too many documents that would be lost to the environment without transcription.  The paper we were using was made from the fibers of the stonevine - the vine Teeth had brought to our attention for how hard its sap cured once boiled.  It had taken several attempts, but the resulting paper was incredibly waterproof and actually required the letters to be etched into it to take any sort of pigment.  However, once anything was written on it, there was no way to destroy the document short of grinding it into a new pulp.
Unfortunately, that meant anyone copying the documents needed a very steady hand and impeccably legible handwriting, because you only got one shot at it.  Everything was in the database, but those last several months of Eko-mari interference had reinforced the need for hard copies of everything.  And so, my retirement from the Council had led to six shifts per week transcribing very important and very boring documents.
A harsh swear hissed in my direction, snapping my head up in confusion.  I barely had time to make out a head of wild brown hair attached to a young adult with an odd gait, practically dragging a toddler behind her. “Teeth…” I ventured hesitantly.
They froze in their tracks, and the little boy squealed before running over to me on stubby legs. Slowly, Teeth turned to face me, nose wrinkled in embarrassment. “Hi, Aunt Sophia.”
“PHEE!” the little boy screeched, climbing into my lap while I deftly moved the etching pen out of his sticky reach. “Sibby was noddy,” he assured me in the special loud whisper only managed by small children and drunks.
“I figured bud,” I muttered before turning my attention back. “I can’t imagine that the child of two queens is here on community service, not to mention that Siu writes better than you do.” I nodded to the boy who I was trying to keep the old papers away from. “What’s up?”
Surrendering, they came to sit across from me, gently taking the papers from my hand before their little brother could. “I was scaling the Vault - “
“Which you know you aren’t supposed to do,” I added.
“Which I have been told is dangerous,” they corrected. “And Siu saw me.”
I bit my tongue but scanned him for injuries. Scraped knees, but that was about as normal to him as breathing. Kid was a klutz, bless him.
When I nodded, Teeth kept going. “I thought he was with Queen Mum, but he was with his daycare class, on a field trip, and… The kids tried to imitate me.”
“Since you aren’t, you know, dead, I’m assuming the adults stopped anything tragic.”
“Miss Mona said we couldn’t climb,” Siu pouted at me.
“And they all started crying,” Teeth finished in a huff. “Busted by thirty six kids and four adults. All of my parents knew within an hour.”
I whirled a finger around to indicate the Archives, before swooping it in to boop my nephew’s cheek. “Doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“Penmanship practice,” they groaned, dropping their head on their organic arm in a huff. “With an etching pen and everything.”
I thought about it for a second. “Simon’s idea?”
“Who else?” they despaired. Being twenty five may have given Teeth more experience, but it had also solidified them into a very expressive person that borderlined on teenage dramatics when it mattered the least.
I sighed. “Okay. You can practice here, but go get a glass slate and some markers for Siu. Otherwise he’ll get bored.”
“It’s only for a couple hours,” they swore, attitude suddenly changing. “Mom will be here on her lunch to come get him.” Springing to their feet, they took off to request one of the panes we used to conserve paper when people were first learning new alphabets.
“Swindled,” I told Siu very seriously. “Your sibling has swindled me again.”
“Fucking duh,” he giggled cheerfully.
Gaping for a second, I ground my teeth before shouting. “TEETH!”
Three hours and some exasperated promises from Charly - who was admirably keeping her laughter at bay - Siu was shrieking with laughter at the promise of swimming lessons with Mummy, and Teeth was working on a glass slate to replicate my cursive writing.
“This is so small,” they complained. “How do you do this?”
“Same way you are,” I answered without looking up. Hematology extracts for the win - I could barely spell half of these words. “Practice.”
“You could have written it bigger.”
“I did.” Demonstrating, I took a scrap of stonevine paper, etched a few words in it, washed in the ink, then turned it towards them. “See?” The only person I knew who naturally wrote smaller than me was Tyche - the largest letter on my paper was a quarter of an inch. Most were right at an eighth.
“Bitching has been retracted.”
“Besides, cheer up,” I continued. “I just heard today that Xale and Brol are coming to visit soon.  Siu’s never met Xale, has he?”
The felt pen squeaked loudly as Teeth’s arm jerked. “How did you hear this before me?” they demanded.
“Xale wanted it to be a surprise,” I assured. “But you seem like you could use the good news. They should be here in time for his birthday.”
They paused mid-wipe as they erased the streak. “Do you think his genetic parents will show up?” they asked quietly.
I shrugged, trying to look lighter than I felt. “They relinquished any custody of their material, neither felt confident that they could raise a child. As far as who Siu’s parents are, he’s your human brother, being co-raised by Charly and Nixe, just like you.”
They relaxed a fraction. “Then he should love his big sister as much as I do.  Will Kelly and Mati be there?” Teeth loved their little brother, but loved their ‘cousins’ almost as much, and made a point to play with them, even when Conor wasn’t the custodial parent.
“Their moms are all for it,” I assured. “The girls are the only kids on their side right now, and no one wants them to feel left out.”
“Good,” they nodded firmly. “Family is important.”
“Preaching to the choir,” I pointed at myself. “You may be the only person I know who has a bigger family than I do.”
“The outer caverns are almost complete,” they threw out, changing topic. “Mom is excited, because one of the caverns is going to be a new park.”
“Botanical lab,” I corrected. “Technically.”
“Interactive lab, which is the same thing as a park,” Teeth rebutted. “And you promised.”
“I don’t have any say, I told you that.”
“But you promised me you would at least talk to them…”
“I know, but are you sure? Siu’s already - “
“Aunt Sophia, you promised,” they pressed. “Mom and Mum will listen to you, especially when Simon already agrees with us…”
“Have you even one hundred percent decided - “
“Poodle collie mix,” they bounced triumphantly, knowing they’d won. “They shed less, they are incredibly smart, and they are gentle, so Siu and his kitten will be fine.”
I rubbed my forehead in mock frustration, secretly very proud of how far they had thought this through. “I can’t even argue about responsibility. I’ve seen you with the kids, recent blunder included.”
“Look, I - wait, what?”
I set my etching pen down and started counting off on my fingers, getting a small laugh out of them. “You made a point to do it when you thought you wouldn’t be seen, but especially when you thought Siu wouldn’t see you.  No one got hurt, so you clearly came right down before any of the kids could actually try.  And you brought Siu with you today, to make sure you knew where he was and that he wasn’t trying to climb a rock wall.” I turned my glance to them. “Plus, you were very adamant that when Xale gets their kitten, Siu gets one, too, because he misses Mac.”  Poor guy had barely survived the crash - excuse me, ‘high velocity landing’ - but even then, old age caught up a couple years later.
“You know, you could still get a kitten, too,” Teeth pointed out gently.
I scoffed, this time actually indignant. “I am a firm believer in the Kitten Distribution System, I will have you know. When I am meant to have a cat, one will manifest.”
“You do know that animal breeding is strictly controlled?”
“Cared exactly zero cats, ever. You’ll see.”
For the next several hours, we made at least an effort to focus on Teeth’s penmanship and my transcription. I managed to copy several pages, but despaired that Teeth was a lost cause as far as cursive went.  Which, fair - as long as they could print legibly, I could honestly have cared less.
When my shift was over, I let Teeth know that they were freed to their own recognizance and let my mind wander as I navigated the cavern system.  Several times, I had to dodge fuzzy yellow balls darting past - Else still largely navigated by bumping off of things, despite being large enough to leave a pretty sizable bruise - only to later stand aside so that Noah’s much smaller avatars could trundle after them.  I was still adapting to the hive-minded mushrooms being four feet tall instead of twelve, and always chuckled when I saw one chasing behind Else.
Eventually, children would be running through the caves in the same way. Every day, more and more of Charly’s bio-lights were mounted rather than hurriedly attached - constant signs of expansion as we recovered and spread out.  Gardens were tucked in every possible nook and cranny, especially those with small thermal pools.  More than a few had been built out with seating that used stone from smoothed out or expanded areas, repurposed.
It took all of my restraint to keep from turning into a communal food nook, the smell of chilies practically dragging me in.  The heavily vegetarian group of cooks had quickly found and claimed the space, which was too warm for habitation due to the springs that ran behind the walls - making it perfect for cooking.
Dinner with Maverick and Evan, I reminded myself. The newly installed Councillor for Health and Safety had been very attached to Mav since the final hours of our journey.  For a time, Conor and I had been slightly concerned and very much amused, but Evan had made it abundantly clear that she preferred zero romantic or physical attachments - she basically considered Maverick a very intelligent pet, and he thought that was hilarious.
I reached my favorite point of my walk and paused to enjoy it: one of the narrow passages had collapsed slightly on one side, leaving an overlook to our main hub. The Vault, we called it. There was no part of the day when people weren’t crossing through it, often stopping to speak to each other.  Streams of both hot and cold water flowed in channels across the floor, small decorative bridges arching over them at the wider points for safety.  Horticulturists hovered between the relatively new plant installations, which had already made the air sweet in their scant three years of growth.
I closed my eyes and inhaled the steam, feeling my heart slow and calm as it always did.  Terrible events had brought us here, refugees from our birth planet.  But we had survived the trip, across a distance we had never thought possible, and were carving out a home as carefully as possible.  And one day, if we ever saw the journey home, nothing would remain behind us except the stone works - the plants needed constant maintenance, a decision we had made to avoid introducing invasive species.
We had a second chance, and we promised we would do right by it.  As I did daily, I quietly said a prayer to myself that those who had survived on Earth - something Teeth was evident of - would make the same decision. Done, I smiled gently and headed home.
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2dmax · 2 years
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wanderer
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myrmeraki · 1 year
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on (re)building
episode XIX, black sails / if beale street could talk, james baldwin / epilogue, shoot around- suspu / x men origins: magneto (unmade) / utopian futures, kimya dawson / epilogue, shoot around-suspu / walking dead vol 16: a larger world, robert kirkman / miracle mile, 1988 / good bones, maggie smith / x men origins: magneto (unmade)
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novaraptorus · 8 months
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Starting a series of illustrations of Jesus as depicted across North America in the post-post-apocalypse of After the End! Starting wiiiiith:
# CALIFORNIA
In the Imperial Palace of Sacramento, the capital of the Most Righteous Celestial Empire of California, the marble statue of Guru Jesus is not the largest, or fanciest of the Gurus depicted. Yet it is Guru Jesus who receives offerings and prayers to a degree almost unmatched by any other Guru.
Symbolising the Star Sign Scorpio, Guru Jesus teaches us the world is full of dangers and it is only with a steadfast commitment to living a pure life that we can hope to navigate them. It was he who remarked on the power that faith has over those that wish us ill - "In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all."
Peace and Love dudes.
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baelpenrose · 1 year
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Arcadian Inquisition 147: ...Actually, Just Dead
River and Reed vs. Flint. Big thanks to @canyouhearthelight, @writing-with-olive and @quantumizedinsanity for beta-reading on this one to make it as fast and brutal as it needed to be. Trigger Warning for brutal wounds, violence, gore....you know what? It's a Baelpenrose sword fight. If you've read this far, you know what you're getting into.
Reed
I fired one arrow as River ran up to the tree, knowing all I was going to accomplish was to ruin Flint’s shot. Even as I nocked again and started running, another arrow hissed down and only missed me by an inch - I heard River’s bow thrum, and heard Flint’s mad little laugh as I aimed up and cursed as I ducked back down, clutching my cheek, my hand coming away bloody. River cried out and I shouted back. “I’m fine. I’m fine, hon, he just grazed me.”
We both looked between each other and both stepped out of cover at the same time, arrows at the ready, and then River ducked as I fired. She began sprinting forward as Flint fired at her again, diving behind a tree and nocking another arrow as Flint pulled back. I rushed forward, legs scrabbling over the rocky terrain and roots to try to get as much of the gap closed as possible, finally slamming against a tree again as River screamed a warning. She attempted to get another arrow up before she gave another short, sharp cry - I looked over and saw her pull an arrow out of her jacket, the tip just barely red, and she gave a pained nod. “Not bad,” she mouthed. “Flesh wound.”
She started whimpering, and I realized what she was doing. Flint was the kind of person who would go after any sign of weakness like a starving wolf and if he thought River was more seriously wounded, he would take much greater interest in keeping her from moving. He was probably already repositioning to get an angle on her.
I drew and nocked, holding my breath as he started moving, and loosed at him once, forcing him to turn towards me as River let fly, this time letting out a genuine cry of pain as the bowstring snapped across her wounded chest. 
Neither of us were good archers. Even a little bit. But we were less than twenty meters out. And Flint was in the open, trying to defend from arrows coming at two different 90 degree angles. 
One of them hit him, not fatally, not close. Just a solid, meaty strike in the thigh that made him howl in sudden pain. 
We rushed, Flint drawing back his bow and trying to aim again, even as I dove behind cover and realized, now, that we were far, far too close for Flint to miss if we tried to break cover. 
I pulled out the mirror that I had learned to carry in Frostreach, one that Tracer had taught me to carry to signal for help if I needed it - without ever making a sound. I raised it, trying to figure out where Flint was, which of us he was watching so we could break cover and the other could rush him…
Then I realized he was aiming at me and I angled it towards his eyes, aiming the light straight for him as River began rushing and he let go of the bow with a sharp snap. 
The mirror deflected the arrow. 
The shattering glass cut furrows in my hand that made me dizzy and made me want to start vomiting. I couldn’t feel the tips of two of my fingers, but I forced my good hand - my dominant hand, thank Gaia, to draw my sword as I already heard River going sword to sword with Flint. I charged, deflecting that stupid backthrust of his bladed bowstave to the side as I lunged at his back, almost perfectly in time with River’s cross-torso slash that should have hacked Flint shoulder to good hip. Our enemy blocked her with the bow and smacked her in the mouth with the actual wooden bit before twisting it in his hands to try to slash her throat - infuriatingly tying my sword up until I actually managed to lunge down and make myself his problem enough that he drove the elbow of his wounded arm backwards into my face, making me see stars and staggering me backwards.
I almost let go of my sword and River held against him for a second before I rushed back into the fight. River tangled up her sword with Flint’s bow and drove it down, before Flint, grinning like an animal, drove his bow and the sharp spike on one end back up through her chin. For just one paralyzing instant I thought he’d actually killed her.
He’d missed. He’d just given her another awful scar - she’d managed to sway to one side at the last minute, laying one side of her face open, but managing to evade that blade being driven into her brain. I rejoined the fight, my hand pulsing in horrible pain as I gripped my hilt two-handed in hopes of it going numb.
He whipped around as I rushed him, raising his bow in clear hopes of stabbing me. I sidestepped and cleaved entirely through the scorching stave, furious at the stupid way he fought with it, and then cursed myself as he let go of it with one hand and began that whip thing again. He lashed it forward enough to make me jerk my face backward and then swung backward, even as his own hip twitched like Ash’s once had. Still, he nearly cut River, her sudden movement drawing a curse of pain from her as she was forced to use the muscles from her wounded pectoral to parry.
Flint’s face was frozen in what seemed halfway between grimace and grin as he kept the whip moving in almost perpetual motion, perfectly conditioned to tangle up anything we did, keeping both of us in his field of view. We cycled to his right, on the side of the leg where he’d already been wounded, and kept going
Flint suddenly stopped feinting and slashed forward, first at River, then at me.
River
He attacked me first, and I dodged out of the way before he went after Reed. The whip traced patterns through the air that Reed tried his best to weave around, the attacks scoring deep rents in his leathers, cutting up his chest a few times, long, deep flesh wounds. It flashed back at me once, just enough when I wasn’t expecting, to bite deep into my left arm, forcing me to stagger back before I pushed forward again, every stroke making me more aware of a warm, wet patch spreading slowly under my armor.
Flint was going apeshit, drawing his sword, slashing at both of us, using his sword mainly to parry at this point, or hilt bash. The whip was definitely the weapon he preferred, constantly keeping both of us off balance. The attack whipped at my eyes, and I had to sway back, my chest burning, the side of my face still aching from the cut I’d already gotten, my biceps screaming as I had to raise my sword again…
And again.
Flint swung his sword and I blocked it, my wounded arm screaming in pain, even as he whipped that broken bow around towards Reed, swiping at Reed’s leg and entangling it, pulling it out from under him and lunging towards Reed’s heart as he fell, and I almost got Flint’s head trying to stop him from shoving his blade through my fiance’s heart.
Flint dodged, the edge of my blade biting through his jacket and tracing a line of crimson beads across his back, a brutal laceration that didn’t kill but made the murderer scream, and his blade only barely grazed Reed’s ribs instead. In exchange, his hilt swept back and hit me across the mouth. I staggered, the wound on the side of my face opened wider by the blow, and spat out a chip of tooth as I sprinted back in because Reed was already staggering back to his feet and Flint was pressing him hard, slamming the sword down on Reed’s over and over in a desperate frenzy to try to finish off one of us before we could tag team him to death. Reed grit his teeth over screams, bloodied hand clearly going numb and tears streaming down his blood-streaked face, and I let Flint have it in a furious, mad assault that drove him back a few steps at a time, sword flashing, rising and falling, uppercut, slashing left and right, across his chest, until he managed to slash across my shin with the whip and wrap my leg and tug it - but Reed was already there, slashing through the string and parrying the downstroke as I surged to my feet, already hacking at Flint, leg screaming, limping forward as Flint staggered back.
My wounded chest was heaving, my arm burned with every stroke - but Flint was barely standing. When I’d hit the deck, Reed had delivered a strike - the tip of his sword was bloody, and there was a wound on Flint’s abdomen that hadn’t been there before. Flint was grimacing, lips peeled back from his teeth and snarling like an animal. He was beginning to pull back, but as I tried to press close, he snatched his knife from his belt and drove it, hard, at my chest, stabbing through my leathers and glancing off my ribs in a blow that was almost certainly ruined by his wounds. Reed retaliated with a savage strike that took his ear from his head, even as Flint swayed to keep it from cleaving his skull in two. Flint wheeled to slash Reed savagely across the belly which Reed managed to sweep back enough to keep from being disemboweled, the blade scraping his abdominal wall.
I hacked at Flint again, this time claiming a finger even as Reed’s lunge pinked Flint’s belly again, and my return cut laced the belly of Flint’s arm with crimson beads that scattered along the ground, drawing a howl of pain and his knife clattered to the ground, sword still held, just barely, wounded arm clutching wounded belly.
Flint took on the manner of a wolf at bay, weapon still ready, face a mask of tense rage - and then it took on a note of fatalistic acceptance. 
“Come then. I’m ready. If this is my end…Come on. I know how I was meant to go back. Predator stumbles, becomes prey. Way of the world.”
I screamed and both Reed and I pressed in for the kill. Flint’s weapon rose to meet mine as I batted it aside, Reed lunging low then up and taking him through the chest as my sword came back around - and Flint’s head hit the ground, face locked in that eerily serene smile, the predatory eyes that never moved now more natural and dim in death.
I reached down and picked up his head, and we helped carry each other, swords sheathed, out of the clearing, barely able to stand, back into the saddle. Flint’s body we left in the woods, his sword, bow, and knives to quietly turn to rust. 
I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting that nightmare’s butcher tools. He could return to the Wellspring or remain haunting the world as a demon. I didn’t know. 
I didn’t…we had to make it back to the village. We were wounded, badly. The adrenaline of the fight let us ignore it, but as we heaved ourselves back to the saddle we realized how badly hurt we were, and began pushing towards the safety of medical treatment, of help.
Our vision started going grey before we got far, and I had no idea if we’d make it or not.
Every stride of the horses added a fresh wave of agony to us, but we kept pushing. Kept…
Someone was there, up ahead. 
Plains? Arcadian?
A handful…the villagers?
Someone…I called out for help.
Reed joined me.
I recognized the Druid. The Priest. A few doctors.
Had they come to…
Why wasn’t I still in the saddle?
***
When I regained consciousness, we were in the village, and our wounds had been dressed, a priest and a druid standing over us. The Priest glanced to the Druid. “Your people have some unholy power. Worst bled I’d ever seen anyone be, these two.”
“Gaia’s favor covers a multitude of sins. But they brought back the children of the village. Inquisitors or not, we could afford to overlook a treaty violation. You two, did you get Flint?”
I looked over and I saw Reed nod.
“Rest. We’ll take care of you until you’re fit to go home.”
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baelor-breakspear · 1 year
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The "Codex of Regulations" is the holy text for the Galvanist Assembly. Each page includes the Regulation handed down from the Titans themself, written in blood-red ink. Surrounding this divine text is the commentary from the various assemblies that have met over the years to interpret these regulations, allowing the faithful to truly understand the Regulations they are bound to uphold for the good of society. Transcribed below the readmore.
“Their roofs shall be marked by colored pennants to keep the people safe” -Titan Osha, Guarantor of Safety
Small pennants, made of fabric, shall be placed along the borders of the roof along all edges. "Marked" implies a complete separation and must follow the whole edge of where the roof begins and walls end. This is consistent with other regulations which encourage thoroughness and complete clarity. Little must be left to chance. - First Assembly of Chicago
"Their roofs" makes no distinction between the grandest temple, a mighty fortress, or an insignificant hovel. All roofs that shield the faithful must be marked by these sacred pennants. Any building that provides shelter and a safe place to rest must bear these pennants. -Coronation Assembly of Owen Guin
As a marker, these pennants must be visible to all people so that the faithful can be identified. They must be flown on the outside of the building then, and shall be brightly colored so they are not mistaken for the walls they mark. The pennants are triangular in shape, their size depending on the size of the building. For every ten feet of height the building possesses, the pennant shall be ten inches long and half that in the width of the base. No pennant shall be less than ten inches long and five inches across the base. -Third Assembly of Chicago
The colors of the penants shall be the sacred colors the Titan Osha uses for her markers. Red shall protect from fire and flame. Yellow and black together will keep them safe from hazards unseen. Yellow alone shall keep their paths clear and their purpose known. Orange shall be used to insure the Titans inspect the building and keep their vigil over it. -First Assembly of Detroit
The pennant's primary purpose is to "keep the people safe" and as such, prior commentaries about where they must be flown are insufficiently broad. It is not just homes, but places of work and worship, storage and sale. All buildings must be bordered by these sacred pennants. -Tenth Assembly of Pittsburgh
As the purpose of these flags is "to keep the people safe" if the faithful live in a place of heathens and such demonstrations of the faith would be dangerous, the flags should not be flown. Only the faithful can know their own safety and so none should be condemned for refusing to fly the pennants. -Second Assembly of Cincinnati
While no individual should be judged for choosing not to fly the pennants, the community as a whole should be judged. Does our faith not encourage solidarity and community? If one does not feel safe, why have they been excluded from the protection of the faithful? If one does not have the funds or materials for the pennants, where is the charity of their neighbors? -Engineer Jakub’s Commentary
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Part Of My World's Magic System
Previous Post First Post
Originally posted to r/worldbuilding, I'm moving my stuff to Tumblr because of the recent Reddit shenanigans. Note, this comic was made purely to flesh out the world, so there's no real story or characters.
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There are four ingredients in Alori magic: Dust, like with every other kind of magic; a spellbook, though that is not necessary for all spells; a spell scroll, while a scroll is traditional, spells can be written on anything; and a key, though some spells have them built-in. To cast a spell, you must hold the spell scroll in your right hand, attatch your Key, then speak the Casting Incantation, a short phrase in the Ancient Speech. After speaking the Incantation, a small amount of Dust flies onto the scroll, travelling across it from top to bottom and reading the Commands. This can take anywhere from less than a second to more than ten minutes depending on the length of the spell. Once it's complete the rest of your Dust joins them in carrying out the spell.
While some basic spells do not require a spellbook, you need one to do anything more complicated than Commanding your Dust to move in a cardinal direction. Spellbooks contain a different kind of spell which other spells can rely on to carry out more difficult tasks. However for a spell to access the spells in the spellbook the key needs to be modified to guide the Dust to the spellbook, where it will read that as well. Because every spellbook is unique, each person's Key needs to be custom as well.
The Fall of Humanity left many artefacts behind. Once of the most influential (on Eren B at least) are the vast amount of nanites spread across it's surface. In the hundreds of years since several different civilizations have rediscovered methods to control them, though none so far have managed to use them to their full extent. The Alori were able to figure out some fragments of Python through sheer trial and error, since their religon forbids them from plundering ancient sites. Other cultures who did not have such reservations were later able to expand upon this knowledge, discovering several modules in the wreck of HMS Lexington which they have since transcribed many times.
Eren B is a tidally locked moon. After Humanity Fell the survivors have rebuilt civilization to a medieval-ish level of technology. This comic takes place in Laroth, a large desert near the equator.
The original post on Reddit didn't get much attention, so there aren't any useful comments to copy over here.
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galeriasophia · 1 year
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Having fun drawing maps
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rainandteastudios · 1 year
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Redid character designs from an old comic idea. It’s a post-post apocalypse setting, though it’s extremely subtle and only the environment really reflects that.
I was trying to tell a smaller story with their body language and colors, though I’m not sure if it’s very noticeable. I’m very proud of these guys!
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councilwomanone · 1 year
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I hope reincarnation is real but only if I get to go to a different planet next
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canyouhearthelight · 1 year
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The Miys, Ch. 233
It is with heavy heart that I announce: This it. The actual journey of the Ark ends here.  There will be 1 more chapter after this to wrap up what everyone will be screaming and cursing at me for after you read this.
And then we will be done.
This is where you want to scroll down to the Read More if you don’t want to read the sappy stuff.
I started this story in, wildly, 2016. I had no intention of it being this long - it was initially meant to be a one shot response to a writing prompt. I was doing that a lot at first, but this stuck with me. And as a result, I have made incredible friends that I never could have imagined, developed a ton as a writer, and found something to hang on to when my life got crazy. Through too many deaths, losing family and gaining family, and through learning what I really believe when the chips are down.
I have accidentally predicted a pandemic, my future job, a national schism, and the billionaire space race.
And I have not, even once, accidentally saved the world.
To you. To me. To us. If you found even a little solace, or space, or saw a part of yourself in this story: To you, most specifically. Always and forever, to you.
“Hannah has everyone on Level Eighteen, Alistair is bringing up the rear,” Xiomara announced. “Everyone is carrying as much as they can. The comic books didn’t make it.”
I swore softly and shook my head the best I could. “We can manage without those,” I admitted begrudgingly.
“Sophia, you just signed up to teach Comics as Literature,” Eino announced.
“I - “
“Try to stop her,” Tyche cut me off. “Ignore the protests, she’ll do it.”
“Seven Eko-mari troopers left,” Charly sounded off. “But I wouldn’t suggest getting a craving for wings.”
“How much longer do we have before we have to give up and evacuate Level Seventeen?” Arthur demanded.
“Ten minutes.”
Charly’s laugh at Huynh’s response shot ice down my spine. “More than enough. Give us three to finish up, plus four to get everyone to Sixteen.”
The Ark rocked and Maverick growled. “You have five, total. Push the fight to relative port. Hannah, have everyone seal up and cross on the starboard side.”
“Maverick,” Hannah responded, clearly at the end of her impressive patience. “The ship is a spiral.  Skipping levels isn’t an option.”
Conor took over. “BioLab 6 is along the relative starboard side of Seventeen. You can cross through there.”
“That’s breached,” Arthur shouted.
“The whole damned level is leaking like a sieve and barely hanging on. It’s cross there, or risk losing almost half our people.” Conor’s tone was apparently familiar to Arthur, because he just nodded and started rattling off updates and directions again.
“Four minutes,” Maverick counted off. “Charly, Hannah, as soon as you are clear of the freighters, tell us. The same second, you got it? This is going to be… fun.”
“Mister Okima,��� Alistair huffed through the comms. “I am not preferable to your idea of ‘fun’.”
“And I don’t like your idea of living,” Maverick snapped. “Get off the comms, dude. Yell at me later. I’ll even sedate Sophie so you can.”
“Hey!”
“I love you, but people with a triple digit count of near death experiences don’t get a vote right now…” His tone was sing-song, despite how tensely he was clenching both his jaw and the controls. Several people on Level One had to stifle laughs, situation be damned. “Ix’al, Brol. Status updates.”
“We’ve lost ten cargo vessels, prayers to their souls,” Brol answered. “We can recoup the credits, but lives lost are lost forever.”
A very quiet amen crossed the deck, and I was sure I wasn’t the only one hoping that it translated as something conciliatory and appropriate.
“Where are we on the data bomb?” Arthur forged ahead.
“Xale informs that most of their fleet has been infected, but the dreadnought has too many firewalls.”
“Pranav, you still have that dead man switch ready to go?”
“If my heart stops, Alice has thirty seconds to give the override command,” came the grim confirmation. “I have sent the command to her phonetically.”
“Dark but precise,” Evan added. “I like it. Two minutes thirty and counting. Charly!”
“They’re as clear as they’re going to get, and it won’t get better if you don’t leave me alone!”
“Michael!”
“I second that!” he shouted against the background of the wailing damned. “How the fuck are they screaming in vacuum?”
By this point, Grey had to be numb. It was the only explanation for their calm tone. “Bioacoustics reverberating through the hull once they are in contact, then coming up through your feet.”
“Zip fighters converging!” Arthur interrupted. “Targeting the drive!”
“Hannah!”
“Ten more…. Move your asses and the one behind you!” she shouted.
My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I turned to Alice. I had never heard Hannah raise her voice.
Apparently, Alice hadn’t heard her angry, because she was just as pale.
“Seven!” she continued. “Alistair, get our ass over here or I will come get you!  Five! We have one tenth gee, through the fucking box!”
“Ha - “
“Get your ass through this door right now, or so help me I will let you die!”
My mouth snapped shut, and I slammed the mute to her so that no one could speak to her. There was a tone, there at the end, that I did know, and it wasn’t anger.
Again, I was second to that conclusion, because Alice was halfway across the deck and screaming to get out. “Hannah, no….”
“Hannah is through!” Charly confirmed.
Alice whirled, face flushed and tears streaking down her face. “Hannah is not through until that level is sealed. She will go back to get people.”
That was all Charly needed. She snapped a nod. “Michael! Abandon combat, evacuate your team to starboard. Take Hannah Bodenheimer with you, by force if necessary.”
“Two minutes!” Evan counted off.
“We can do it,” Michael confirmed. “GK can run this under one point five, we can do it in point one.”
“I’m covering from behind,” Jokul’s voice cut in. When someone started to object, he forged ahead. “I suffer the least from gravity sickness, and I am the largest. I can push everyone if need be.”
“You’ll get shot - “
“They don’t have kinetics and he’s wearing fur if they use electrics,” Charly snapped. “He’s a big boy, he can take a punch. Go!”
“Where is engineering?” I asked, panicked.
“Fourteen,” came several voices. The majority conceded to Huynh. “It won’t hold everyone, but your man is protected.”
That worked. “When everyone is clear of Level Seventeen, don’t even bother finding a shelter, just strap yourself to the nearest solid object with whatever you have handy,” I demanded.
“Thirty seconds!”
As much as I adored Evania Josue, right now I was cursing her with everything from crotch fleas to moist dermatitis.
“Twenty seconds!”
“CLEAR!” Hannah’s voice shouted. “I have Alistair, but lost a religious text. Mona has a spare, he’ll live.”
“Ten seconds! Brace for - something. Just brace!”
One deep inhale later, I was being pushed against my ersatz-seatback with the force of an invisible hand, and it wasn’t gentle. Those not secured were swept up by the walls, and then across the floor.
“Braking maneuver completed! Conor, status!” Mav panted, shaking out his hands and flexing his fingers.
“Drives are getting hot from the backwash, hull integrity at Level Seventeen is below forty percent,” he rattled off before his tone became stern. “If you do that again, we won’t have any drives.”
“There may be no choice,” Xiomara muttered. “Pranav, where are we at?”
“We are as close to ready as we will ever be.”
“Ix’al, Brol. Do we know if what that databomb does will take out their dreadnought?”
Ix’al responded this time. “There is only thirty percent chance that it will stop their vessel, and less than one percent that it will force it to jump.”
“That is beneficial to the Ark,” Odvub added, confusing the hell out of me and apparently several other people, judging by the noises I heard.
“Clarify?” Xiomara asked, as a member of the Confused Contingent.
“If the Eko-mari dreadnought were to be forced into a jump at this distance, it would force the core of the Ark to breach, killing everyone on the vessel.” The clarification was the opposite of comforting, and - joy of joys - it continued. “Additionally, there are still two infected Eko-mari vessels embedded in the hull of the Ark. They are small, but will still cause an estimated additional five percent loss in hull integrity.  Due to evacuation status of that level, no loss of life is anticipated.”
Arthur rubbed his face forcefully with both hands. “Maverick, Alice, is this the best we can expect?”
“Unless you are getting out to push, pretty much,” Alice confirmed after a brief glance at Mav.
It was only because I had swiveled my head over to the person speaking that I caught the frantic smacks Tyche administered to both our pilots, followed by the looks Maverick and Evan shared.
Oblivious, Xiomara started to speak. “Pranav - “
“BELAY!” Maverick shouted, more forceful than I had ever heard him. “S’crirs fleet, evacuate the field of combat, by any means necessary.  Do not - I repeat - do not allow any Eko-mari ship close enough to sweep you in their well when this goes off! Do not respond, three minute delay.”
“Maverick - “
“Xiomara, respectfully, those are your allies, and you have given battlefield command over to me.” He glanced at Alice, who nodded, before he continued. “That virus is in their ships, and it will go off no matter what once triggered. There is no reason for them to walk through a minefield for us when they can get out of the blast range without changing the outcome.”
“The dreadnought.”
“Is my responsibility,” he doubled-down. “As is this ship, her integrity, and every life out there. With all due respect, I refuse your command as unlawful under Pan American Uniform Code of Conduct.”
She blinked, shook her head, and blinked again.  Finally, she slowly raised her hands in surrender. “I am relieved of duty,” she rasped hoarsely before lowering herself to a seat and hooking her ankles beneath it.
“What the fuck just happened?” Parvati hissed to me, shaking my arm.
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly for a moment, trying to recall. “Pan American Uniform Code of Conduct… Oh. Oh.” When I remembered what it was, I swallowed heavily. “Maverick just relieved her of duty due to… I think commanding a course of action that is illegal under Global Parliament rules of engagement?”
“A war crime!?” she hissed again.
“To keep her from committing one,” I clarified. “He refused an unlawful order, and then relieved her of duty to remove… her from chain of command? Technically on medical grounds, I think? Basically, he formally declared she isn’t in the right frame of mind to be giving commands during combat, and she agreed.”
“And if she hadn’t…?”
“Not a lawyer, but I can guess it wouldn’t be great.”
“Not insurrection, I’ll take it.”
“S’crirs!” Maverick called out, oblivious to our hurried debate. “One minute! Please confirm!”
“We still have ships in range.” Brol was as close to despondent as the translation software could get.
Arthur started switching feet impatiently. “How close can you get to dreadnought without getting shot?”
“With absolute certainty? Further is preferable.”
“With fifty percent certainty,” he insisted. “With your craziest pilots and a lot of hope, how close?”
Brol burbled for a moment. “If we maintain shields, we would still be out of the dreadnought’s gravity well.”
“Drop the shields. Let’s be really crazy.”
“We would be vulnerable to enemy fire.”
Arthur sighed. “Ask Xale, please? Because without that, you’ll be vulnerable to the fact that the enemy sucks, in the worst possible literal sense.”
Ix’al’s voice was next. “Xale insists that if we evacuate the cargo vessels and place them on programming without shields, they may survive, and we would avoid the most casualties.”
“Do it!” I screamed, realising what Maverick was suggesting. “Fewest lives at risk, lossable targets, and it will give a distraction while everyone else gets the hell out of dodge.”
“Thirty seconds,” Maverick counted off. “And I can’t delay that. The Ark will come apart if I don’t do something soon, and right now I can’t change her trajectory.”
Tyche’s head twitched like she was following a particularly close fly. “Maverick. Maintain course for one additional minute.”
“The Ark - “
“Ninety seconds. That’s what we need. Sending plan now.”
It took all of five seconds - the heaviest, longest five seconds I could recall - for him to scan her idea. “S’crirs fleet. You have ninety seconds from mark.  And…. mark!”
Odvub’s voice shimmered across us. “Pirate vessels drawing in proximity to Eko-mari dreadnought, closer than safety protocols. Eko-mari fleet is diverting to those vessels. Communications suspect mass retaliatory detonation of cores - “
“We really should have thought of that,” Arthur muttered.
“Programming now,” Brol apparently agreed. “Our populated vessels are beyond all Eko-mari gravity wells.”
“Pranav!” Maverick turned his attention. “Activate data bomb in five.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“Brace!”
The Ark rocked and klaxons blared violently, yanking the ship side to side like a car fishtailing on a flat road. “Embedded vessels micro-jumped before detonation,” Huynh confirmed. “Hull integrity at thirty-three percent.”
“Drive cores detonated,” Brol added. “Increased damage to Eko-mari dreadnought due to proximity.”
“No Eko-mari ships detected beyond dreadnought,” Arthur huffed, fighting to keep his balance. “No loss of S’crirs fleet detected beyond intended. Fleet confirm.”
“Confirmed.”
“I am thrilled to know everyone is okay.” Conor’s voice was entirely genuine. “But at this speed, when we hit the gravity well of the star, the Ark is going to come apart and we’ll be face planting into a nuclear bomb.”
“If that dreadnought doesn’t take us out first,” Arthur agreed. “We’re basically in a race for who kills us faster, Maverick: them or us, and they have the lead.”
“Thought you grew up in Pan Am, Farro.” Maverick ground out. When I focused on them, it was clear that both he and Evan were holding the ship on course with force of will, a firm grip, and determination.
“Former California region…” Arthur said hesitantly. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“All hands, brace for maneuver.”
I scrabbled for purchase with not only my hands, but in a vain attempt to brace my feet against structures just too far to apply any force to. It was nothing compared to the efforts of some, who were nowhere near a solid surface despite nearly forty hours of Maverick’s piloting.
“Okima, what does that have to do with anything?” Arthur asked again.
“Batter up,” Mav grunted.
Evan shouted, “Acceleration maneuver, mark!”
As I watched, it looked like the force of the maneuver was pulling Tyche’s body into a sitting position.  I honestly thought nothing of it, at first, because I was so focused on the pilots and listening for any sounds of damage - like the Ark falling apart.
It was when her arm drifted into Evan’s field of vision, only to be swatted away to drift, that I started freaking out. “Tyche!” I shouted. “TYCHE!”
Almost reluctantly, one of her arms pulled in, and her hand clenched to put one finger across her lips. “Shh,” she admonished quietly. “It’s all or nothing now. Just watch.”
“Watch wh-”
Klaxons. Again. “Hull integrity below ten percent. Full breach beginning at Level Seventeen.”
“EVAN!” Maverick shouted suddenly. “CRANK IT!”
All at once, the Ark wrenched to the side and lurched forward. What I could only describe as a full body - full ship? - shudder sent tremors through everyone and everything.
“We’ve lost the drives!” Conor shouted. “Repeat - we’ve lost the drives! They are on a direct collision course for - Mav you son of a bitch!”
“It. Was. Tyche’s. Idea,” Maverick ground out as he forced the Ark on course with Evan’s assistance. “It. Was going. To tear. Loose. Anyway.”
“Pilot Okima,” Noah buzzed in a hideous tone that sounded like flat out panic. “The Ark is not on trajectory for a gravity brake.”
“We’re aware!” Evan forced out. “We should be on course to hit the steam on the hot side!”
“Drives to strike Eko-mari dreadnought in ninety seconds,” Odvub advised.
Evan nodded. “And that should make us fast enough to keep from being yanked into the atmosphere!”
“There is no data to support your conclusions,” Noah insisted angrily.
“Sure there is,” Maverick gasped. “We do this all the time.”
“There is no record of any human using planetary gravity to safely land a vessel,” came the retort.
Arthur started laughing insanely, only to be joined by Charly and Huynh, sparking concerns for everyone’s mental health.
Even our co-pilot was grinning maniacally. “Stop looking for safe landings, and start looking for controlled crashes.”
“Drive collision with Eko-mari dreadnought in three… two… one.”
The closest I could come to describing what happened next was a lurch. Except, we never stopped lurching - it was like riding a slingshot, waiting to see how long the shot lasted. Everyone who wasn’t secured was plastered against the same wall of Level One, grimacing against the pressure.
“Eko-mari dreadnought destroyed.”
I would have cheered if I could draw a breath to do it. They were gone.
“Hitting Kepler Four Four Two gravity well in four.”
Wait, what?
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
A jolt, and the pressure gave up slightly. “Trajectory on course for Von,” Evan gasped. “It won’t be pretty, but we’re on course. No bodies in system to divert course.”
“Please tell me we are on course for the cold side?” I begged miserably.
“Not enough atmo,” Evan argued. “We need the cushion on the hot side. Tropical steam is thick.”
“And no mosquitos,” Tyche added dreamily. “It will be nice, right?”
I cut her a glare, knowing she wouldn’t see it. “Gotta live to enjoy it. That whole thing.”
“On track for Von atmosphere in ten minutes,” Odvub advised.
Charly rallied herself to come over and physically shake me into action - at least until Antoine swatted at her and said something about puncturing a lung.  To be fair, he was irritated enough that he could have meant hers.
“All hands,” I gasped over comms. “Ten minutes under current acceleration to brace for impact with atmosphere.” Taking another breath, I groaned a bit. “We trained for years under more pressure than this,” I assured the ship as much as myself. “We can at least get to safe locations to brace. The safe rooms are open on Levels Three through Ten. Full of smooshy shit. All the water and hard things have been taken out.”
As much as I wanted to get up and help, Antoine only double checked my bandages and pulled a few knots tighter to make sure I didn’t, in fact, get up. One conciliation was stuffing something soft between my spine and bench I was braced against. “Pillow from bunk room,” he added shortly. “We can’t heal spine fractures if this goes right.”
I didn’t even bother trying to ask what would happen if this went wrong.
“Life pods have made impact,” Odvub provided. “Locations centered on the pole designated From, beacons are being tracked by the S’crirs fleet.”
“Noted,” Arthur muttered as he moved to sit against the wall being indicated by slowly flashing lights.
The entrance to Level One irised open, startling everyone. When several people moved toward the door in defensive postures, three hands reached through - two with short stubby fingers, one spidery with too many joints. “I am coming to assist in securing everyone against impact,” Noah buzzed, this time coming from the door rather than the ceiling.
“Five minutes,” Maverick updated us around the time that most people were in secure grips and thick, mushroom feet were vanishing into the deck.
Eino, of all people, struggled the most, insisting that everyone else be secured before he was. Finally, he briskly walked over to Arthur and shoved him to deck, using only the element of surprise. “You are no use dead,” Eino admonished. “Secure your own mask before assisting others.”
“Three minutes.”
Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but Eino shook his head in a - motherly? - disapproval. “No. We are controlling the crash. There are no tactics. There is only surviving.”
More bewildered than I had every seen him, Arthur slowly stood and made his way to where everyone else was being secured against impact. Eino followed closely, waited until he seemed satisfied that his mentee was safe, then surrendered to Noah’s insistence.
“Two.”
“Mav,” I shouted. “You’ve gotta be secured.”
“Noah can secure me here,” he argued. “We still have minor attitude thrust, and I’ll need them to the last minute.”
“Evan, talk some sense into him!”
She shook her head determinedly. “Same here. We go down, I go down.”
“One.”
“Noah!” I screamed. “Do something! Sedate them!”
“I regret that we have very little control of the Ark at this time,” Noah admitted as two of their bodies went to the pilots, both basically sitting on Tyche to secure her to the deck before wrapping all limbs around the pilots as carefully as possible without restricting their arms. “If they state they can improve our chances of survival, I have no choice but to acquiesce.”
“MAVERICK!” I begged. “Please, please…. I know we need you now, but I need you after this. Conor needs you after this. We need you to live…”
“Brace for impact in thirty seconds.”
“NO!” I kept screaming, shouting for Maverick and Tyche until my voice until the last second.
“Impact in ten.”
“Tyche!”
“Nine.”
“GODS DAMMIT, LET ME GO!”
“Eight.”
“NO! NOOO! GODS DAMMIT, I’LL KILL YOU!”
“Seven.”
“Please,” I sobbed. “Please… one of you, both of you…”
“Six.”
“Mav, please.” I could barely breathe, and the last thing I was thinking about was impact.
“Five.”
“TYCHE!” I tried shouting. “This isn’t funny.”
“Four.”
“Sophia, stop!” Arthur shouted. “You’ll kill them if they get up.”
“Three.”
“FUCK YOU!” I spat at my best friend, the taste of metal sharp in my mouth.
“Two.”
I tried to draw a breath, but choked on the blood in my throat.
“One.”
Everything in me shook with pain, and then it was all black.
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2dmax · 2 years
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Entering my artstation girl era
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