#oc writes

This is from my own universe, in which all of the old fairy tale species are actually based on aliens: either their remains, members of the species that got lost and landed on earth, or stories from those lost aliens. (Fairies never stopped kidnapping people, humans just caught on to their origin as extraterrestrial instead of extraplanar.)

Anyway, the Story!

Captain Khantannon's brush with Death

Recognizing explanation was required, Silv’a least felt to owe it all to his benefactor. Such a stupid boy, playing with forbidden magic was alway’s preached by many, but not in his House. “Story Time, kiddo.” “Our House was curated off the blood. From our neighboring allies I failed to mend during the War.” “Watching the frailty in being man, provide us against Dragonkin the God’s cloaked in Light have abandoned us... The Noble’s who paved a path for that victorious conclusion, their name forgotten to an endless abyss and inescapable purgatory, they still remain tormented as their soul’s linger unrested. Proud nationalist, supporters of the suicidal war brought on by a simpleton’s conquest and ambition to a fairy-tale ‘vision’ of a deluded old coot who claimed they spoke with a Deity. Insanity is the easiest grasped intelligence to manipulate, often fueled and recycled continuously causing histories to repeat. Those who are strong and possess numbers always invade and control the quickest place they can settle.” “The credit of brave, but yet seen as obsolete pawns of my platoon was left to rot and decay. Calls of backup unanswered. Because strictly my race was all those Elezen bastards ever saw, I was unlike. I offered them my arms. I gave them my life and they repaid me by offering me an insulting title and estate after I had already nothing left.” “It’s when I lost my faith. And cast a pact with a better allegiance. I chose the winning side to immortality to disregard this imperfect body for zero defect.” ”...Then my fortune returned when you were announced under that cheating charlatan of an obsolete, ‘Mother’ of yours...Knowing my blood flowed through you like the thickest of rivers; you were my phase of revenge. Larger than anything your life ever would surmount too.” “Playtime is over and you’ve outlived that title as Heir.” “At this end, since the dawn of beginning. You were but a prop. I infused you with the prowess of blood magick. Groomed you to be ripe perfection. Despite knowing you’d never meet my expectations. I made do with what a disappointed Father had too.” “Inside carries every deplorable weight of your buried Father. All your mistakes and sins are mine. You are but a rehashed image of me and my former imperfect state, a mortal insignificantly desiring more.” “Now because of you, I get my due redo.” ”Sought with your own foolish volition to Protect. The irony, that power-hungry, greed. That uncanny Lonewolf mentality brought you to this deadly point. It was you who was reliant on being safeguarded. From your wasteful Mother to her estranged disappointment she gave in a halved whelp. No oathbound knight, or that happy ending.” “I warned you. There are no answers to search. You’re either born for success or a befitting tool to shape it for another.” “This has always been a part of my plan. To grant me a second life. It all conveniently happened when I was deployed to mend and heal a convoy of Ishgardian Knight seeking to oversee a dragonkin den supposedly harboring a Broodmother. Instead, our stare found the eyes of the void in the darkness. Behind that even further level of study. Powers you couldn’t even comprehend. I’ll fix this realm’s problems, once and for all.” “...Overall this grueling process and taking my fall to your believing hands all those zodiacs ago. I gave you a bloody conductor that began absorbing my soul into that foul rage. The crucible of your awakening was also mine. I hid back behind your overthinking consciousness. The loudness left me ever beyond your awareness.” “You never thought once it was odd...? Sudden answers and knowledge to things certainly came to you naturally. Despite you never researched it? Those clues were signs of me once again. Passing on and giving you a chance and day to shine even though you were but coal to a diamond.” “If you die from these wounds miserably, It’d warm me.” “But I am a grateful son. For this ever touching reunion I'll enjoy undertaking an identical glamour to you and reclaiming my throne with eternal vibrancy...Think I’ll pay a visit to your museum and reclaim my sovereignty Relics of the Void, and put them to their intended usage. They collected enough dust. You also naively gave over some, I’ll have to retain them forcefully.” Spoken audibly with a brief bore. As if cleaning his son’s issues was beneath him. Washing a hovered hand over his frail and helpless squirming son he’d clasp the pristine image and glamour before exiting and leaving the pool a clearly visible red soaking through and spreading over the often worn fashioned white tailored suit. An overly frozen encounter warranted an icy pelt from the Keeper’s eyelid. Abandoned, outmatched, alone, used as cattle. He finally understood the ambered-eye Seeker. His vitality and wealth depleted his features from his extensive injuries. He looked slightly younger with the removal of the stress his body held from the added wisdom and blood being supplied to cater a literal leech infecting him. Gloved hands weakly squeezed ash-colored dust from the basement grounds. As further darkness consumed the room.                                                                                 The Immortal Age                           (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)                                   =========Cast=========

🎉is: “attend a Halloween party together”! Oh, oh god.

Spark-y Festivities

Even demons celebrate Halloween, right?

/this takes place in the past, before the lions arch attack

 A coursing sea-vessel heeded towards brilliance to beckoning the ushering of premising new dawns. The bustling ship had grown exceedingly as Captain of the brand whose heart laid golden in lace beginnings, regaining confidence to steer a direction beyond pastures of the dark unalone. A groggy snooze waking up, a rugged fellow started to awaken aside his clutched haphazard of booze dangling off bedside as the Seeker reflected with eyelid’s breaking shutter and then twinkling merriment. Lastly after encountering unknowingly an estranged daughter who’s convicted cause, soon after a shift in the nature of fate’s became under his beckoning fortune. Finding and reuniting a Crew of functioning purpose. To seize the claim of inconceivable dreams.  Liveliness etched over the planks of the boards. The Worldly Finder was rebuilt after the assault of the Trade Captain, or one of many of the most dangerous and formidable force’s a sea could encounter, the Scourges of governing. True conqueror’s and menaces. Each more terrible than the last, reaching heights to even a Legendary Giant. With his fellow existences and other forces, there was no stoppage of deadly conquests, behind them fortune resided but only sail’s of fearlessness would see those rays. Flaming decals were painted on the side of the hull from the Shipwright suggestion and convincing to the Captain, that they’d make the ship go faster, than wording, ‘vroom’ so kind of already broke all argumentative sense, but of course Captain wouldn’t argue him fulfilling his role. The oldest and original brethren in arms, the only other survivor from Shiro’s wrath, was that silver-worn Shipwright. Leaving his own Cabin to get a fresh of sea air and breathe in all that majestically laboriousness that surrounds this magnificent world. Sun against his back, kissing his complexion. A soft fondness of caressing his cheeks and fluttering his crowned Tricorne. The scar-written pirate drew in all the scenery and ambience aside soft waves of alluring peace. Beauty came in so many forms from the sniper at crow’s nest valuing and writing down the courtesies of every bird they came across in the travels. A slumbering monster shadow beneath the deck with the tiny canopies of light peeking through the cannon holes which was given a stead where denial would’ve been met anywhere else but this company. Studious rugged leather glove’s of the First Crewmate, rattled through pages of blueprints and navigable interest, through piles of boards writing out tactics and survival odds, partners, team work of their Crew’s number, rations, all planned of chartered relic’s and isles, so much to explore all awaiting to be seized. The struggling jester of a Shipwright trying his mightiest attempts at swooning and earning a favor of a rather shy and timidly non-confident surgeon, who didn’t see her normality and value is what made her a pillar of importance to the Crew. She brought health even when she wasn’t sewing wounds over and nursing, reminding a reason to protect. Those who attain scarce treasure of life must also learn how to cherish and preserve it, at all costs. Or foreordain to watch it crumble between tip’s of unworthiness. All beheld in the amber-starry eye of the Seeker. Plus much more of his Crew were elsewhere together scattered on land, as a band on the path to be unbreakable, that unknowingly his ultimate Trial began as did all the members of his Crew. Those branded with seek. Should be wary, for even they may be sought. An unforgettable storm was coming to once again burrow through and endanger everything that was rebuilt without remorse as often they came. Three Era’s of Pirate Crew’s Captaineered and this was the testament to a last one, could they weather the peril wrath of an unceremoniously Winter that drew to his blue surfaces. Captain’s sake of insanity laid on the verge of breakage, as he seemed cursed to never continue to flavor, happiness, he once again refound to know its air.                                             The Immortal Age                           (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)                                   =========Cast=========

[/// ♫  Extinction ♫ \\\] As tension settled the howl of wind swishing directly in a cross from the pair. Their jaws both clamped before it was action time. Like two rodeo steeds running out of the gate they were off. The Captain instantly reached back throwing in a popping click his satchel pouch containing a solid object and chunking it. A smoke grenade unpinned thrown -- Shiro scoffed to such trivial deceptions. Did this ingrate forget who he was battling? -- Please. He’d clack his fingers to snapping forcing the howling winds aspected to ice to encompass and prevent the smoke even from raising out of the canister. -- But that wasn’t a goal! That was Captain’s ploy, a distraction. One second his eyes drifting from the prize. The blinks of the Captain’s shadow happened nearly faster than most eyes could interpret. Anyone who knew him would instantly think it was just his patented, <Ghost Step> (Shukuchi) and instantly assume it but why would the Captain, use it just to step to where he was again? Cause it seemed, nothing was astray. It’d take a little bit of attention to detail but this Captain had swapped blades seemingly. From two pitch black scimitars to his more run-down antique katanas. Shiro formed a thick barrier surrounding him that was almost like a regal ice aetherial suit, it was light and snazzy enough to not hoist him down. He’d take a surprise by going on the offense. Something he wasn’t often known for taking a bee-line charge. Drawing and using his elegant diamond encrusted Rapier, ‘Mol’usa’ his grand weaponry, that was ever as potent as the namesake, named after his Mother, Half-Sister and now even Daughter. This was already a thing that debunk the pirate’s previous statement about the Nobleman not understanding value... The Captain had to work quickly to block and parry with his dual wield against the noble man’s suave fencing ability instantly going in a noble-fighting stance. This was utmost important to know. That this style took advantage of one arm below the back to support. To most this often looked like a cockiness feat but it was balance structure, it allowed Shiro to be in-control and defensive still while also being able to hit pin-point attack, through exploited means. Often used to battle against someone heavily guarded. In the clashes of two trained both would land a cut, but Captain’s cheek would bleed firstly. The torn flesh made a blood gem instantly drop from the harsh weather and liquid, drying instantly. While Captain’s blow only chipped at the ice. -- But something took place after that. Captain started to get really, really, formidable leverage. His swings started to break the guards and snap back hitting connected blows until a tiny piece of fabric of the white suit was torn... The Keeper scurried back in steps taking back his main place and forming a even more booming barrier his eye brows unflinching with disbelief... The Captain snarled and threw his steel directly like piercing lances at the ice penetrating into it but meeting cold to steel was often a sentenced to be locked. The debonair in white cackled manically... “Fool!...” He believed the win was just right there decided how did the Captain plan to break his supposed oppressor barrier without his weapons. However... With those flawed steel blades as often to expect with a schemer they were laced with speckles of something that was typically thought to be used in a battle situation let alone a battle. Rock-salt, were doused to the hardened streaks. With each of his Grade One katana’s that were left in the Noble’s near perfect defense. -- Ever slightly, melting and weakening the temperatures of the solid formation and corroding the impeccable barrier, a poison strictly placed in winning thoughts by the gallant pirate. Would his stated words truly fall to merit’s stain palms? Suddenly the pitch changed as the visible ice could be heard by his Miqo’te hearing sizzling... melting. The impossible was happening. With so many grains of rock-salt engraved and locked it nearly happened immediately. The pirate wasted little time taking opportunity to step forward and search for a delivering blow against the hilt of his blade to dig it and pierce the Noble with his flawed defenses against him, no where to run... He was sentenced --- Or was he? [These events would have taken place up to from the slash that Shiro placed against the Captain’s cheek... Everything beyond that... Was an optical hallucination. The infected pirate only saw what he wished was taking place -- a hypnosis..]~ Suddenly a powerful thrust of a rapier entering the back side of where the Captain’s shallow heart laid and between the sternum. “Game over.” He whispered breezily within the heathen’s feline ears. For you see, the Mol’usa was no ordinary blade. It held a very endearing property befitting a stratgeist with an ability that gave the user upon a first-strike, it could deplete One of the Five senses, at randomness. The pirate often was famed for his sight. So by the intelligent mind of the Noble, eliminating that seemed to be the right go. But this didn’t limit what happened to the Five Senses or its potency, sometimes regarding sight. One would see hallucinations, such as this case. Other times they often grew blind outright. The Captain caved a gasping huff before hunching over holding his wound and faltering in a slump... Over? .                                              .                                                  ...You wish!                 ....“Oi, fancy.”   Would emit from behind Shiro with that irritating swashbuckling voice....                           “And when did ye think you were fighting me, me?” He grinned fitting that of a devious-bandit before instantly using his katanas once again to bring into the reinforced barrier surrounding the Keeper. The Captain seemingly that was stricken would poof and dissolve into an extra layer of fluid a tiny sleet. A mere clone vanquished. Do you recall when there was a mentioning of the Ghost-Step being used? The Captain played against the rules, factoring in a trail of replacement clones all waiting and lurking with cloaks awaiting to switch out with the real one for moments like these with Ghost-Step. This necessary wasn’t cheating. It was still him, he was just exploiting in his own way. The rules were often meant to be construed or contorted. In a battle of swapping mind and tricks. This became simply another Chess Match. But the Captain had to do this... For there was no way in Twelve, he could risk getting hit once by Shiro whatever it was or small it seemed. For if he did, it was really, a game over match. Shiro’s element was the perfect imprisonment and for who the man of the free was, it was a bane to unsuppressed. {~ How is this battle going to play out! What sort of extra sorcery would be unveiled.... We’ll find out next time! ~]                                                                                        - To be continued.

 A breed of kind recognizable, you know deep down their hearts, may it be despicable wicked or otherwise. All too familiar they of the sails and whirled of winds. Tides are their soul journey, poison courses their tolerant alcoholic belly-drum stomachs pitching for gluttony; yearning more. Fighting for beliefs while carrying a selective collection in the varied seven sins to bare tatt to flesh or unerasable memory. Greed prominently their trade. They banter amongst one another the pact they represent is the struggle they seek. You may ask why they traverse the ever daring uncharted? Why they drink raw demons after near-death defying escapades, an answer of unfolding would tell you they invade their ambitions as if dreams were meant for carving in reality. So give me a jolly yo-ho-ho for the souls, of the free. Coveting skies as role models to the expansiveness; a meaning behind being limitless. Look to the oceans for they drive the same symbol so awake to the glory of life’s embrace! The only wild storm to drown them under abyssal blue is faulted to a measured determination. Acts weighted to scales behind conflicted beliefs the cause gives a lifetime battle against the chained oppressors! Behold... Men & women, for they are the scour. The onlookers to most-desire, whether it be coats of gold or treasured coffer they hold the reigns to mindfully navigate the fate all to seek their spiritual’s rightful claim.                    “Ahoy! Fer pirates,                           we, BE!”