Hello everyone. This thread is just for me to put any other, non-SW ideas that I’ve been working on or pop up in my head. These are fanfictions, original story, etc. To be honest, this thread is more to advertise my other story ideas (and possibly find any help to write them). Nonetheless, I do hope you enjoy them.
Hey guys! For my first entry, this is fanfiction sequel of Nickelodean’s Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra (a preview of one anyway). This was an idea I started out back in 2017 and had been working on and off. With that out of the way, here’s the opening to Avatar: Tales of Mushi. Enjoy!
A burning fist struck through the shadows, lighting the darkness with red flames.
Leaves floated on wisp of a silvery breeze and danced around nimble legs of the one directing it.
Blue waves flooded the floor, then rose and fell upon their caster in the form of several thousand raindrops.
At the beck of slender hands, several green and brown pillars erupted from the ground into the sky.
The pillars did not stop. They went higher and higher, until they finally stopped and their tips had transformed into an army of statues.
“For many years, I have heard tales about the Avatar, master of all four elements. I have heard how each one would be born and bring peace to the world…”
The statues, avatars of centuries past, stood side by side, each representing the Fire Nation, Air Nomads, Water Tribes, and Earth Kingdoms. And one by one, the avatars’ eyes glowed until they were an army of lights. Yet, the two casted a larger shadow over them all.
“Out of the many avatars, I haven’t heard more than Avatar Aang, who ended the Hundred-Year War, and his successor, Avatar Korra who helped to bring the Spirit World and mortal realm together…”
The calm and joyous Aang stood side by side with the powerful and fierce Korra, both watching over the bay of Republic City. Their eyes glowed with the ethereal power of previous Avatars and the Avatar Spirit within them.
“But Aang passed long ago… And Korra has joined him…”
The light from Avatar Aang’s statue faded, followed by his successor’s.
“Korra’s, however, was unexpected. Sudden… and the whole world was left to wonder why.”
Tiny white specks, remnants of the avatar’s white light, sparkled as they left Korra’s eyes and disappeared into the darkening sky above. A sky that now hovered above cities and lands filled with the confused and uncertain people of the Four Nations.
“And so, like with Avatar Aang, there was no sign of the new avatar. There have been rumors, though. Sightings of a stranger wandering from place to place.”
Amongst the whispering crowds of merchants, workers, soldiers, and even Spirits, a lone figure in a coat and hood strolled down, alone and aimless.
“I will search for this stranger. I will see if what they say is true. If it is, if this is the avatar, then perhaps I can find what I’ve been looking for so long…”
Under the shadow of the lonesome being’s hood, a pair of eyes glowed bright white…
TALES OF MUSHI
BOOK 1: VOID
Chapter 1: Powerless
The early morning sun fell on Kyoshi Island and the statue of its namesake as it had for centuries. The natives didn’t notice the sun or the statue they passed by, their focus on the time on their pocket or wrist watches. The young man by the statue’s base, on the other hand, hadn’t paid attention to how much time had passed. He didn’t really pay attention to anything.
He sat on the grass, hands resting in his lap. He pushed aside the itchy feeling on his legs, along with the buzz of a Satomobile engine and the soft wind breezing by. He focused on his breathing, on his state of mind, and on his inner self. As he was taught, he kept his aim on being calm like water.
Sadly, he was anything but calm. There was the slight irritation, the tiniest irksome that stopped him from reaching his goal. And that irksome thing was only he could see:
She stood in the empty ocean, her dark hair blowing in the wind…
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the image. He remembered what his mentor had taught him. He tried to focus on something, anything to keep the woman away. His efforts were rewarded with something else:
… her Water Tribe outfit, once newly made, was torn in several places…
A frown cracked his calm facade. He was not supposed to be seeing that. Not again. “Come on…” he whispered, hoping to be free of the image. His hopes were rewarded with the opposite:
… and though her back faced him, she slowly turned with that expressionless face and those dead eyes…
At last, he opened his eyes and slumped his shoulders in defeat. “Ugh, I not again,” he murmured to himself. After running a hand through his dark short hair, his gray gaze slanted up at the statue of Avatar Kyoshi. “There has be to another way to doing this.”
The statue didn’t answer him, but someone else did. “Meditating again, Mushi?” said the man whose brown head of hair suddenly loomed over.
A startled Mushi jumped, placed a hand on his thumping chest, and whirled to the stranger. “Sifu Niko, don’t do that!” he exclaimed.
Keeping his back in a hunched position, Niko shook his head and laughed. “I don’t think I had any other choice. You were doing it again…” he told his old student. “… I swear, you are too tense sometimes.”
“I’m not tense!” Mushi snapped up.
Holding his hands behind his back, Niko frowned down. “Don’t start with me, Mushi,” he said. “You’ve been at this statue all morning. I don’t know what has gotten through your head but stressing over it will do you no good. You need to relax.”
“I told you, I’m not-”
Mushi’s stopped as something jabbed at the back of his neck. The joints in went crick-crack, and the shoulders spasmed from the built-up tension now trailing down Mushi’s spine. All of it happened so sudden that he never noticed his own lanky body shaking like a leaf on in the middle of autumn.
Once the feeling faded, a far more relaxed Mushi turned to a smirking Niko. “Well?” the older man asked as his hand returned to behind his back.
Mushi sighed and uncrossed his legs. “Okay, you win,” he grumbled and grabbed his coat lying beside him.
The younger man didn’t complain as Niko led him away from the statue and into the paved street. As annoying as the older man could be, Mushi found Niko to be endearing. Niko had taken personal interests in all his guests. It wasn’t hard, seeing how Kyoshi Island kept a population less than two thousand. When he arrived a few months ago, the atmosphere took Mushi by surprise with the fewer Satomobile, one or two telephone lines, and the additional rows of modern buildings to the centuries-old wooden houses.
Niko, the governor of it all, stopped to let a new Satomobile pass by him. “Close one,” he breathed in relief. Eyes glaring after the vehicle, he went on and mumbled, “I swear, I need to set up new laws. I can’t have these junkies drive wherever they want.”
“Maybe you need a new road,” Mushi suggested offhandedly. “I think that’s one way to help deal with traffic.”
“We have one road already. No need to make another one!” Niko huffed then changed the subject. “So, do you wish to tell me why you’re at the statue instead of being with your friends?”
At that, Niko turned to a quiet Mushi with a flourish of his long green jacket. His patient stare was the opposite of Mushi’s pursed lips. “I don’t think that’s a big deal. You always said I need to focus more, so I just thought I’d try some techniques you gave me.”
Now, it was Niko’s turn to frown. “I know you wish to work hard. You have shown that over the past few months, but today is your last day here, Mushi. You should be with the other students, laughing with them. You may not have the chance to ever see them again.”
Mushi shouldered his coat in uncertainty. Admittedly, he hadn’t been very sociable with the others. That was obvious as those students, dressed in the same forest green gi as Mushi’s, rush past their mentor. “Maybe…” Mushi said, eying his fellow students, “but I’m not sure if they’ll ever miss me.”
“They will,” Niko assured. “You just need to give them a chance to know you first.”
If Mushi had anything to say, he stopped it and drifted his eyes to the side then up. On the cliff above stood a girl with soft brown hair tied into a bun. Mushi had seen her over the past few days, always at a passing glance. Then, and now, he watched saw the girl take a typical Earthbending stance, right arm up and right leg forward to raise a boulder from the cliffside itself.
“Mushi? Mushi…?” Niko had said to the side, but Mushi was too busy with the spectacle to listen.
Swerving to the side, the boulder levitated a foot into the air before splitting into two tinier halves that orbited each other. There had been the “oohs” and “aahs” of the spectators–all of them nonbenders who had been part of Mushi’s class. Mushi was more interested in the Earthbending girl. Her form was near perfect, her expression the epitome of calm he wanted. The girl herself could’ve been from another part of the Earth Confederation-maybe Zaofu. Her outfit was a mix of green and blues, so it wasn’t easy to tell.
“You know, you could go always talk to her,” Niko whispered to him, rather cheekily.
Reality fell back on Mushi and his hopes, pushing down his lips into a frown. “Thanks for the advice, but I don’t think I have the time now. I have to get going.”
“Always the spoilsport. I swear, you’re like my wife sometimes.” Niko sighed. He paused, as if remembering something important. “Oh, one more thing. I have a gift.”
Niko reached into his jacket, and Mushi froze at the present held out to him. It was a tiny statue, no bigger than Niko’s palm. The piece of wood had been finely sculpted and chiseled into a woman. With that strong physique and shoulder-length hair, she held a posture that proclaimed strength and confidence. Those things alone Niko perhaps hoped to encourage Mushi.
Mushi, holding back a frown, hesitantly reached out to touch it. “It’s…” he said, swallowed, then finished, “… it’s well-made, sifu.”
“Good. I spent hours working on it. I think it’s something that may help you on your way back home,” Niko smiled and pushed the token into Mushi’s hand. “Please take it.”
“I’m not sure, sifu,“ Mushi said and tried to push the token back.
Niko pushed the token back. “I insist. Please.”
“Sifu, I can’t–“
“If you don’t take it, I’m going to give it to that girl over there and say how my ungrateful student didn’t want it,“ Niko said with that oh-so innocent smile of his.
The mental manipulation pulled down at Mushi’s lips. It took everything he had to not frown as he at last accepted Niko’s gift. The governor, unaware of Mushi’s inner conflict, smiled and said, “Be safe on your journey. May Avatar Korra’s spirit guide you.”
Mushi unknowingly tightened his grip around the token. “Thank you, sifu,” he forced a smile and pocketed it.
Mushi let that smile disappear once he turned and put on his long coat. He didn’t want his mentor to see it and ask what was wrong. There was no need for that. After all, he had to get going.
Welp, here I am. Back with another silly idea I’ve been having for sometime. This time, it is a short preview of an “original work” called After Arthur: A King Forevermore. This is meant to follow the aftermath of well-known lore of the legendary King Arthur, starting up right after he fell in the infamous Battle of Camlann. It’s not much, but I do hope you enjoy it. Take care.
In a field of black, fire roared as the flag of the red dragon burned.
“What is this?”
Atop a hill of corpses, a father speared his son, and a son stabbed his father back.
“What is going on?”
The two men fell, and another voice whispered over their screams.
“‘Find him?’ Who are you-?”
The fire died, and the flag of the red dragon, the flag of Camelot, fell. Knocked down by the many men in white and black. They clashed, their swords singing death.
All had been unrecognizable, except for one: a boy in brown, running in between enemy soldiers.
“No! Get out of there! Get out!”
The boy only heard his own screams as a black knight fell atop him-
“MORY!" Marian screamed, her eyes snapping widen open.
Awake at last, Marian breathed and scanned her surroundings. She wasn’t in a terrible battlefield of death. She had been in her bed, staring up at the stone ceiling of her chamber. It took her several moments to realize that and her sweaty face.
Having come to her senses, Marian sat up. To the side, a breeze intruded through her open window, the stone frame wet with rainwater. It cooled the perspiration to her brow and entered into her panting lungs. With it came a calm wave that slowed Marian’s thumping heart.
Then, the cool air grew bitter cold. Marian pulled her blanket until it hugged her back, adding more white to her nightgown. Her eyes trailed down in thoughts surrounding that dream. It was so real, so vivid…
Marian pulled the blanket closer to her. “It was a dream. Just a dream,” she told herself. Yes, that was all it was. Another dream.
Here I am again, with another story idea. This is an original story called Nexus High, whichi s more inspired by high school anime and whatnot. I only every got to writing the prologue, but I hope you like it. Enjoy!
Vice-Headmaster Renana took a careful, long look at the file in front of her. It was so hard to believe that it was genuine and not some cruel prank. The fact that it was real made her blink her crimson eyes over and over and over again at the bold letters across the top of the paper she held: APPLICATION FOR POSITION OF TEACHER.
Again, Renana blinked. Applying as a teacher? Here, of all places? Sure, there were worse schools, but there were also far better ones in the Nexus. Students came from all over the Multiverse, from parallel worlds to pockets dimensions, looking for a good school. It was rare to find an exceptionally good student, let alone a someone willing enough to teach said student.
Still, she could not pass up an opportunity like this. Headmaster Batta had been pestering her for weeks, and now there was someone who was far more than capable for the job. It was like a miracle… or a curse, depending on how you looked at it.
Left hand still on the paper, Renana reached for the phone. Her right hand grabbed the receiver while the other right spun the dial. The phone rang into her pointed ear, and Renana tapped her three free hands, one right and two left, on the mahogany wood of her desk. She hoped he would pick up. Interdimensional phone lines were expensive, and she did not want to add to the school’s enormous bill with multiple calls.
At last, there was a slight jittery sound, and Renana quickly responded to it with restrained excitement. “Hello, Mr. Urakami? This is Vice-Headmaster Renana Lakshmi of Nexus High… Yes, this is about your recent application to our school… Oh no, it’s nothing like that… Your resume is very impressive… Well, Mr. Urakami, to put it simply: you have the job and-”
Renana pulled the screeching phone away from ear. When the horrible sound faded away, she put the phone back and continued, “Um, yes… you’ve stood out from the competition, as it were…” Renana’s eyes widened slightly when she heard the question. “… How many applied? Um, about one… yes, including yourself, Mr. Urakami, but I assure you, there’s no need to worry…”
Again, she stopped, and her eyes widened, but this time, it was with interest. She leaned back in her chair and commented, “… Oh really… Is that so? You’re ‘looking forward it’… ‘A great experience’… I see…”
‘Poor man. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into,’ Renana thought sadly as she listened intently to the voice on the other side.
Another question blipped Renana out of her thoughts. “When can you start?” she repeated, and her second left hand quickly flipped through her calendar. “Monday, the fifteenth. Just a couple weeks from now… You can come in earlier if you want. Just to get a feel for the school… Yes, well, I can assure, Mr. Urakami, your time here will be quite diverse.”
Before she hung up, Renana added with a coy smile on her blue lips, “And Mr. Urakami… welcome to Nexus High.”
Back again, and with another story idea. This is a little fanfiction of Dreamwork’s Voltron: Legendary Defender (VLD), called “Voltron: Reflections.” This based on the alternate universe shown in season 3 of VLD, and I thought it would be nice to try and explore it a little. This isn’t much but I hope you still like it. Take care.
The ground shook yet again from a dying wail, a sound that began many years ago when the Alteans took the last of the energy crystals from the Balmera’s surface. The wail carried on into the present, covered every square of rocky desert, every canyon ever made and every cave and hole dug into the planet. Inside one such cave, Shay, the last thing on Balmera X-95-Vox, felt it all while trying to get some sleep.
Lying on the cave floor in her tattered cloak, Shay clasped her large, rocky hands over her large ears. Each of her four-fingers closed shut to hide out of the wail. She couldn’t hide from it, though. Her seismic sense, once a gift of her people, cursed her to feel the pain of the creature that resided in her planet and gave birth to the energy crystals. The same crystals that powered great warships and weapons. It was the reason why many came to the world.
That had been before the Alteans began their rule. They were among the many who sought after the crystals of the Balmera. Then, they came to the planet centuries, claiming themselves as “the sole protector of the Balmera.” The stories said that had been the first sign of many problems to come. The next sign was the Alteans taking more crystals than usual, the beginning of a long process of taking with nothing in return.
That process ended many years ago. It was a memory Shay recalled every time the Balmera of her world screamed in pain. It was one that never ended, never faded from her mind-
White claws of Altean machines dug into the ground, and the Balmera screamed while rocks and ash fell on its people. Among those, a little Shay stood petrified in caverns’ streets. She could only look up at the devastation before two shadows grabbed her. She was taken aback before she relaxed a bit to find her parents.
“Mother! Father!” little Shay tried to say over the devastation.
Her mother said something back. Shay couldn’t hear her, but she guessed it well enough: “Stay close with Rax!”
Shay glanced around. There was no sign. “I can’t find him!” she told her mother, even if everything was falling apart.
Speaking of which, the walls and floors cracked like a great wound. For the briefest moment, Shay heard her father shout, “Shay, get out of here! Get to the surface!”
With a push from her father, Shay ran. She ran as fast as she could, from the machines and destruction through the screaming and her friends. She couldn’t look back. Shay couldn’t bare another second to waste, so she could get away with her family.
Wait. Where were her parents?
Stopping at a nearby cavern exit, Shay looked. Her eyes wide, she saw the last of the Alteans’ machines retreat from the caverns, carrying the tiny glimmers of what looked like crystals of the Balmera. With the Alteans’ retreat, however, the unstable cavern began to split and fall in on itself. In the height of cries from the innocent, Shay’s parents joined in.
“Mother! Father!” Shay screamed before the cavern wall fell on her parents and everyone-
A loud roar woke Shay into complete consciousness. This sound was unlike anything she had heard before. This was not the Balmera’s cries. This wasn’t a regular ship, either. Curious, Shay took a look out her cave and gasped.
A dark streak spread across the acid skies as something red fell to the planet. Right in front of her cave.
Shay heard the Balmera cry again, but this time was more from shock than the familiar pain it should’ve been used to now. Taken aback herself, Shay gathered her tattered cloak around her. Then, she stepped out of the cave for the first time in several years.
The dust around whatever crashed rose over it, blocking Shay from seeing the true form. There was a glimmer of red, however, along with a loud purr. Shay had no time to wonder about the sound, not when she saw someone stepping through the smoke.
Said someone, clad in a white spacesuit, approached. He staggered towards Shay, as if in a daze. A confused Shay stared at the figure in confusion and spoke with a voice she barely used. “Um, hello?”
“Oh! Hello there!” the figure greeted back, while he took off his helmet. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing here!”
Shay learned to mind, especially when she saw pointed ears and special marking on the stranger’s aged skin. An Altean.
Shay clenched her hands into fists and held them up. “Stay back!” she yelled.
The Altean stopped, blinking his ancient eyes in confusion. Then, he blinked again in understanding. “Ah, yes! I forgot how much time has passed. Time by the black hole really kept me well-preserved… well, almost well-preserved,” the Altean rambled then paused to look at his surroundings, “and I see this place has changed much.”
“If you’re looking for something, then you’d be disappointed,” Shay proclaimed, waving a hand to her desolate home. “As you can see, your people already took everything!”
The Altean’s smile turned into a frown while he looked around. Was that regret? “Yes… so I have heard. I never expected such a thing would happen…” he said almost wistfully.
Shay almost let down her guard. Almost. Wasting no more time, she charged at this Altean, ready to put him down and return what his people had done to hers. And this was an old man. Surely, it wouldn’t be too hard to put him in his place.
The minute Shay threw a punch, she learned otherwise. The Altean, with hair as white as his spacesuit and covered in wrinkles, caught her punch and flipped her. “Oof!” Shay cried, having fallen on her back.
“That’s a reckless move,” said the Altean standing over Shay and shaking his head. “Best not to move without thinking first. Having heart is good though, and you do have that.”
“Ugh…” Shay groaned and tried to get back up.
The old Altean held her down with his boot. “Careful,” he chided, almost playfully, “attack me again, and it might be your last move.”
Shay gritted her teeth. “That does not matter to me! As long I can stop you and your kind, I’ll do everything I can!”
The old one tilted his head to one side. “Oh. And why is that?” he asked in genuine curiosity. There was no response, so he continued, “You believe I’m here to steal Balmera crystals, aren’t you? If I was, what makes you think you can stop me?”
“I don’t!” Shay growled.
“So why try?”
Memories flashed before Shay’s eyes. She saw her people and planet’s suffering. All those years alone. Every image gave birth to a fire that rose with every word she spoke. “When I was a child, I had lost everything when your people came. My home. My parents. My people… My brother… ” Shay swallowed the tiny crack in her voice and glared at the Altean above her. “It has been so long that I can barely remember their faces. I was weak then… but this time, I’m not, and I won’t let that happen ever again. You won’t harm this planet again!”
To Shay’s surprise, the old Altean removed his boot with a smile. “Good,” he said, holding out his hand. “What’s your name?”
Shay glanced at the hand extended to her. Was this a trick? It didn’t feel like one. Alteans had only stole from her. This one didn’t. That had to mean something, right?
At last, she accepted the hand and answered, “My name is Shay.”
The Altean pulling her up smiled kindly. “Well, hello Shay. My name’s Alfor. I know we’ve just met, but I need to ask a favor of you…"
Shay gasped again. The dust had finally cleared and the large head of a red mechanical lion popped through. In her shock, Shay looked back to Alfor, finding a smile on the old Altean’s face as he gave his request:
“… do you mind taking care of my lion for me?”
Hello. This idea is just a tiny preview (more like a rough draft, though) of an original series called Sekai Knight Chronicles, which takes more inspiration from recent anime tropes. I hope you like it.
The giant shadow of the world ring stretched from one horizon to the other, cutting the small town of Nunkas and surrounding forest in half. The midday sun shone on the other half and revealed the black-clad men in the small main street. Armed and dangerous, they glared at the equally ferocious gang in white, who popped in the shady side of the street.
“Well, isn’t this a nice setup?” commented the young man watching from the sidelines.
A breeze blew his cloak aside, and he glanced down at the little girl by his feet. She might have been no more than six or seven years old. The splotches of dirt didn’t hide her dull gaze, like she was used to seeing fights like these. Not to mention, she was the only other person outside. Everyone else hid in their houses, the windows and entrances boarded up by large planks.
The emotionless look on a girl so young was enough for the stranger to sigh and tug on a golden bang. “I guess you’ve seen this a lot, huh?” he asked, but the girl kept staring forward, ignorant of what he had said.
She noticed when the man gently tapped her shoulder. “Hey, do you want a better view?” he smiled under his hood, extending his hand. “I think I know a good spot.”
The girl’s blank stare went to the gray glove then the stranger then back at the glove. Slowly, she placed her hand in it.
And the stranger quickly tugged her onto the open street, where the two sides began to rush at each other with chipped blades and broken sticks. “Excuse us!” he called to the gangs.
Men and women in black and white screeched their charges, kicking up sand while shouting “Woah,” “What the-,” “Who in the-,” and so on. The ten paces between the gangs gave enough room for the stranger to walk along the shadowy divide, a shoulder facing either side. “Pardon. Sorry. Don’t worry, you’ll get back to fighting soon,” he said, dragging the little girl behind him.
Angry glares went blank at the figure intruding on their “battleground,” and a few barely caught the silver glint under the guy’s cloak. Members of the black and white-clad gangs looked at each other, muttering as low as they, which was still loud enough for the stranger to hear.
“Dunno. I think I’ve seen 'im somewhere before.”
“Why’s he taking her?”
“Who cares!? Now, we gotta go back and start over 'gain!”
“Better than bein’ close to you.”
The stranger smirked to himself, seeing the two gangs return to their original spots. It would only take a little more time until it all unfold… but that didn’t mean he could have fun watching it.
Looking ahead, the stranger found himself on the other end of the street. There, a tall tower made of four beams and wooden planks. It was old, but sturdy enough, which the stranger proved by putting his boot on the tower’s ladder. “Hmm,” he said then looked to the girl. “Alright, now why don’t you get on my back, and I’ll-hey!”
The tiny girl had cut the stranger off, skirting under and out his cloak for the ladder. “… huh,” said stranger remarked, while the girl climbed up the ladder.
Soon, the planks squeaked loudly under the stranger’s weight. The ladder made so much noise that the stranger wondered how it didn’t bother the girl above him. The entire skeletal frame shook a little from the girl sitting atop it. She had no trouble, no doubt since she most likely climbed up the tower before. It was the stranger’s first time.
It showed as the flat top wobbled under his weight, a pair of boots dangling the edge and a grin under his hood. “Well, this is a much better, isn’t it?” the stranger asked the girl.
The girl didn’t answer. Below, the shadow of the world ring shifted slightly. It uncovered another couple houses, a few from the town’s two rickety rows of homes. It was the only sign the group in white had to find their original spot, just as the group in black found theirs easily. Maybe they had been in several skirmishes before. Never like this, though. Nothing so serious.
Staring at either side in the upcoming battle, the stranger asked, “So, who do you think will win? I’d say the guys in white. They have a good number of men. Plus, they seem more… thorough than their compadres.” His shaded eyes turned to his fellow spectator. “But I guess you would know better.”
Again, the girl didn’t answer. Her tiny hands held onto a protruded beam, propping herself on legs just as small. Her hair, dark from the same dirt covering her ragged dress, fell over her dull gaze. The stranger did catch the slight interest in what was happening below. Clearly, something like an all-out brawl never happened in Nunkas.
And that hadn’t happened yet. The gangs only threw insults, not weapons. Typical protocol for a small-time civil war, the stranger guessed.
It would be a while before any blood was split, so he tapped his fellow spectator’s shoulder. “Hey, you want to know a secret?” the stranger whispered. Raised a gauntlet hand, he held his index finger and thumb a centimeter apart. “I might be a teeny, tiny bit responsible for all of this.”
The girl slightly tilted her round head to the side, indicating confusion. The stranger pointed a finger down, beginning his tale. “You see, I happened to hear about these guys from a couple villages back, how they’re causing problems for everyone else. So I thought I’d stop by, and good thing I did. It really looks like you have a problem here too…”
His lips closed in time to see two figures stepped onto the street. With the silky, black robe on the woman and the man’s neatly-pressed, white uniform, they showed themselves as the gang leaders. They stood across from each other, glaring venomously and began talking in commanding tones.
“First, I talked with some of the folks here,” the stranger continued. “Can’t say they’re nice or naughty, but they told me about your problem: two warring gangs joined together in an alliance. Not exactly good to have if everyone else is so scared.”
On the street, the gang members rumbled. Their leaders’ fine talk rose, each going one after the other in an argument. It was a nice segway for the stranger.
“I managed to chat up some henchmen. They can say what you want if you ask the right way. And they gave me clues to the alliance… Two keys, a gift for an upcoming wedding.”
The roars below became mixed, incoherent. The leaders were a married couple in the worst of quarrels. Their pale faces went red, and grey flashed from the crooked daggers in their hands. Above, the stranger reached into his cloak.
“It helped that they cut loose the other night…” In a flash, the stranger twirled two pairs of golden keys around his armored finger. “… and while they were partying, I took these little guys!”
The girl’s eyes changed at last. They widened in surprise, their dullness glowing in the keys’ shine. Everything else went ignored, even the stranger’s grin.
“Hah! Now, those guys will never figure out I duped them both! Two birds, one stone!” he laughed out loud, so sure of himself.
A little too sure that he never noticed something was missing from his finger, and his eyes blinked when he did.
“Huh? Where are the keys?”
The stranger found his answer dangling off the tower’s edge and in the girl’s small hand. Behind the long, dirtied locks, she called out in intelligible screeches, ignorant of the stranger reaching for the key. “Hey, give those back!” he said.
The girl had already thrown the keys. They soared, rising shortly in an arch. With partly-hidden shock, the stranger could only watch the keys fall right onto the street. They bounced off the lit side and landed in the shade. Even then, they gleamed in the dim sunlight.
Right between the gangs for all eyes to see.
His plans thwarted, the stranger whirled to the girl. “Are you insane?!” he cried loudly to the girl, who didn’t register the words.
She, and the stranger, did register the people below. Walking from either side of the keys, the gangs turned. Their eyes, and the eyes of the men and women, had gone from shock to sheer rage. The stranger’s own eyes looked down at the glares approaching on a unified front. It only took one shout from the leaders-
“BRING IT DOWN!”
-and the tower shook. It was a violent shake, caused by men and women hacking at the thin beams with axes and their own weight. The two sides ganging up on the tower worked. “Woah!” yelped the stranger after almost sliding off the tower’s top.
At the second shake, he did slide off, just after the girl. One hand caught the girl by the wrist, and the other grabbed onto another protruding beam. His cloak dangled, and his armored arms were pulled in two different directions while he dangled off the top of the tower and held onto the girl.
“This is what I get for helping!” the stranger grimaced.
The third shake was followed by slow cricks and cracks. Then, one beam bent inward of the tower. Hopefully, it wouldn’t-
At last, the wood snapped, splinters shooting out. Then, the tower tilted-
-and it fell.
The following cry was drowned by the tower falling onto the town’s shaded side. By its extraordinary length, the tower’s tip would extend past the town’s paper-thin walls. And it did, as the tower’s long frame went CRASH on a slanted roof.
A cloud of wood dust and wood chips went up in the air, but by then, the stranger had already slipped off the tower’s edge and fell onto the trees. His back ungracefully broke the twigs and leaves that caught him, but the branches firmly held up his weight. “Ugh…” he groaned, blinked his eyes, and snapped them open in concern for another. “Where’s…?”
Beside him, the girl’s head rustled and popped out of the branches. She coughed a little, spewing a bit of wood dust. The stranger pursed his lips and sneered in a mocking tone, “Not so good helping out the bad guys now, huh?”
Another cough answered him, followed by a distant murmur of voices. “Wooh, that’s probably my cue!” the stranger said, reminded of the danger inside the village as he began shifting-well, trying to shift-his weight around. “Just gotta, get-!”
The branch cracked, and down the stranger went. A short drop, he bent his knees, rolled, and popped his rear on the ground with an “oof!” sound. His lips curled into a frown, and his eyes shot up to the little girl staring back down from her haven in the tree. “Thanks a lot, kid! Real helpful!” the stranger barked, hoping the sarcasm would get to her.
It didn’t, and at the sound of nearing voices, the girl’s blank stare followed his every movement while he rushed into the woods.
Well, here’s another idea. This one was meant to be a fanfiction retelling/consolidation of works done by Leiji Matsumoto, specifically the space operas/sci-fi he’s well-known for. His works include a lot of anime/manga, e.g. Space Pirate Captain Harlock (Albator in French), Galaxy Express 999, and Queen Millennia (or Queen of a Thousand Years, depending on which translation you prefer), that are put together in what is called the “Leijiverse.” The aforementioned examples are well-regarded retro anime (some of which you can find on crunchyroll) from the 70s and 80s and some of my personal favorites, so I thought I would try to put them together like how Marvel put its heroes together in the MCU.
The only problem is that Leiji Matsumoto’s works don’t really have a single continuity between each other (as there have been different retellings of Captain Harlock throughout the years), so it was kind of difficult to make my project in line with the spirit of Matsumoto’s writings. Still, I’d like to share with the summary I had for this project and below that is the unfinished prologue for my Captain Harlock retelling. I hope you like it.
It’s the 30th Century. The machine men of the Promethium Empire are expanding across the universe, seeking to mechanize everything and everyone. Earth is ruled by a puppet government that kneels to the authority of the Promethium Empire.
In this trying time, as people forgo human life for machine bodies and alien powers wage all over the cosmos, many figures and tales have emerged, filling the ears of the weak and desperate: a captain and his crew of space pirates fighting for freedom, a lone queen and her journey across space, and a mysterious beauty who rides the railways of the cosmos.
Welcome to the Leiji-verse.
In all his years of service to the Sol Defense Fleet, Captain Jenkins had not seen much action. He had signed up just hours before the Promethium-Terran War was declared over. There were no glorious last stands or cries of freedom like he had seen early on, just silent acceptance. Jenkins has done the same over the next decade, tiring over inspection after inspection of cargo ships heading for the Sol System. He grew into his role that he had gotten used the boredom.
So imagine his surprise when the klaxons blared loudly for the first time in over ten years.
“Alert! Alert! Unidentified object has appeared!” one crewman’s young voice rang through the comms of the Fourth Column.
Taken aback, the captain did not know what to do. He was frozen in place and let the red lights flooded over him and the bridge’s pristine silver floors. The rest of his command crew were at their posts, doing as they trained for several times, taking any readings they can find and giving out commands.
“Unknown object, detected! Frequency, unknown!”
“All hands, man your stations! This is not a drill! I repeat, this is not…”
“I don’t care what those idiots are doing! Get them up here, now!”
“Tracking trajectory of unknown object! Coming in at mark zero-zero-nine…”
“All pilots, report in to your squad leaders!”
“… you serious?! Get someone on those batteries!”
“Captain, your orders?!”
Snapped out of his daze, Jenkins smoothed the creases in his uniform. “I need a report from engineering! I want to know what’s going on!” he ordered the lieutenant who asked, a scrawny man in blue.
The next minute felt like hours before Jenkins got a response, “Captain, we can’t get a visual on object!”
Jenkins frowned. “Ready the thrusters! Get us in closer to that thing!”
“Sir, we can’t-”
“Do as I say!” Jenkins barked at the corporal who spoke up.
The floor shuddered on the captain’s command within minutes. “Approaching the object,” announced the same corporal. “ETA in five minutes.”
Those five minutes felt like an eternity. Already, Jenkins heard hushed whispers of concern from his crew. He would have told them to shut up if he wasn’t so unsettled and trying to figure out the reason behind it.
Another non-SW idea for this thread. This is for Kamen Rider, a franchise belonging to Toei and Shotaro Ishinomori which follows a similar idea to Power Rangers/Super Sentai, in that there is a guy who transforms into a hero to fight monsters. Much like Power Rangers/Super Sentai, there is a new show every year that has a new group of characters and a new motif for the Kamen Rider of that year (ranging from ancient artifacts, to cyborg bugs, to cell phones, to playing cards, etc.).
With Kamen Rider’s 50th anniversary coming up in 2021 (and my tenth on Fanfiction.net under the penname ‘Kamen Rider Raika’), I’m planning to write this little fanfiction. So far, there is just the prologue which you will see below, but I hope you like it.
April 3, 2071
“ALERT! ALERT! INTRUDERS IN THE FACILITY! INTRUDERS IN THE-!”
The words were cut off by a man slamming into the shouting console on the wall. Sparks flew up from the now-broken console, and the man slumped into an unconscious form on the sterilized floor. Cautiously walking by the man and his pale white clothes, a figure in green armor his red eyes at his comrade and asked, “Don’t you think that was a bit much?”
The other man in golden armor snorted, his boots stepping over the minion without care. A low tone left his grilled mouth plate, showing greater experience that his green compatriot lacked. “He was in the way,” he explained.
“I don’t think Aqua would like it,” said the green figure.
“He won’t complain. Not when he sees we’ve made a way in for him and the other Riders,” retorted the golden man, waving a gauntlet-covered hand to the long trail of unconscious men and women behind. Turning back around, he returned his red lens down the long hall. “Come on. The sooner we stop Foundation X, the better.”
The green figure sighed in defeat and followed his older compatriot, right by the giant X plastered on the wall. There had been some groans, but they were of no concern. Those henchmen wouldn’t wake up anytime soon, and when they did, they would be in cuffs. Still, the green man wondered aloud over the echoing steps of armored boots, “It would be easier if we knew where this so-called great weapon is.”
“Read the reports, kid. Mordred went through a lot to get the schematics we need.”
That elicited a hesitant response. “Um, I’m not sure how accurate those are. I mean can she still be trusted-”
The green man stopped when a high-pitched beep echoed in both their helmets. The golden man almost smiled when his antennae shifted slightly. “Speak of the devil,” he said smugly to his younger friend, then he held a finger to his helmet’s side. “Nova, here. You have something, Mordred?”
A woman’s voice quivered through the comlink in Nova’s helm. “I-I’m inside. I’ve found the asset. Sending coordinates, now.”
Removing his hand and holding it out, Nova summoned a bright blue, holographic screen. The image showcased a map of the facility, completed with a big red dot that said: “ASSET HERE.” Satisfied, Nova retracted the holomap into his arm. “Looks like she can be trusted,” he spoke with the same smugness to his comrade.
The green faceplate hid the other’s eyebrows mimicking the W-shaped horn on his head. “Okay, okay, you got me there,” he conceded.
With that, green and golden boots ran through the facility. The two pairs of red bug-like eyes went from one doorway to the next, searching for any sign of their target. After several minutes of searching, it was nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t anything or anyone. There was only the constantly clean and quiet halls of the secret base belonging to the organization called Foundation X.
The green one voiced his observation. “Where are the guards? Shouldn’t there be more here?”
Though silent at first, Nova tensed once he passed yet another empty corner. This time, there was a dead-end, with the same giant X plastered on a pair of blackened double doors. “Tell the others to come quickly. We’ll need back up,” Nova ordered.
“On it. We wait until-hey, wait!” his companion said, calling out to Nova rushing at the double doors.
Though the doors were a foot-thick and bolted by several locks, two powered punches tore them off their hinges. Nova stood at his newly-made entrance, his eyes glaring at the unusually darkened chamber in front and not towards his comrade running beside him. “… come on, I know you…” the other man began and stopped when he looked at the room with Nova.
If either had to say anything, they were cut short by a slow clap, clap, and clap from deep inside the room. “Welcome, Kamen Riders, to my humble abode,” announced a voice belonging to neither men in armor. It came from a very unarmored man, whose white suit and smirking pale face made him stand out in the shadows. “Speechless? Now, that is something I never expected. Let alone from you, Cyclone.”
Kamen Rider Nova clenched his fists and did everything he could to not acknowledge the taunt. His companion, the ever-talkative Kamen Rider Cyclone, pointed a green finger at the man in white and proclaimed, “It’s over! Your organization’s done for, Shimamura!”
Shimamura’s smirk widened into a big smile. “It’s not done yet. After all, not everyone is here for the finale, only just us four…”
“Four?” echoed Cyclone.
Nova found the answer falling from above with a glinting blade. “Move!” he shouted, shoving Cyclone and himself aside.
The long white blade of a sword struck the floor and showered the two Riders in its sparks. Both Cyclone and Nova were appalled to find a familiar, feminine figure in white heaving the sword up with red-lined gauntlets gripping the golden handle. Shaking slightly, as if against her own will, she faced the Riders, her white armor spiked on the shoulders and boots.
Of the two, Cyclone uttered in surprise, “Mordred?”
The new Rider’s round helmet silently peered at him and Cyclone, the grilled visor covering the left half of her face. With silence leaving her fanged mouthguard, Shimamura took it upon himself to speak in his mocking tone. “Ah, yes. Such a shame. You can never know whom to trust,” Shimamura chuckled then looked to the Rider in front of him. “Keep them busy.”
Shakingly, Mordred lunged, and the uncovered right half of her face blurred with the green eye and red circuitry. Her sword, straight-edged and gleaming, swung at her ‘old friends.’ Of them, Nova stepped forward, and his gauntlet sparked when it caught the attack.
“Hrgh!” Nova grunted, pushing against the shorter Rider’s strength. “Cyclone, move!”
Cyclone nodded, but Mordred had already kicked Nova back. Then, she swung her sword in the other Rider’s way. “Woah!” Cyclone exclaimed then looked at her. “Mordred, what’s gotten into you?!”
The Rider in question rose her sword. “I-I can’t stop it,” she whimpered through her helmet. Her body shook like it was fighting for control. “Please… help…”
Despite her best efforts, Mordred lunged again. Nova, after dodging another wild swing with Cyclone, spared a red-eyed glance at Shimamura. The pale-faced and pale-clothed man raised his hand to a console rising from the floor, typing away at the controls. Within moments, the console announced, “Countdown in ten seconds…”
Nova immediately drew his fists over the red gem in his belt buckle. “Ten,” the console announced, and Nova began to make his call.
“No!” Cyclone grabbed Nova’s right arm, yanking it to the side. “Yoshi, you can’t do that here!”
“Let go, kid! It’s the only way!” Nova yelled back at Cyclone and over the cry of “Nine.”
The two squabbling Riders split apart in time to avoid a stab of Mordred’s sword. “We don’t have time!” Nova shouted, ignoring the console announcement of “Eight.” “It’s now or never!”
Mordred’s sword put Nova’s plan to a halt as he caught it with both hands. “D-do something!” Mordred cried over the “Seven” from the console.
Cyclone darted his gaze to Shimamura, who awaited the countdown’s completion with a smile. “Well, Rider?” he asked while his console announced “Six.” “What will it be?”
His hands curled into fists, Cyclone went past his fellow Riders-Nova kicking Mordred back. He went straight for Shimamura, hearing only his steps echo with the cry of “Five.”
Cyclone’s boots pounded on the clean floor. Shimamura was only ten feet away, still smiling. Rushing as fast as Cyclone could, that smile closed it at eight feet.
At six feet, Cyclone leaped off the floor. He went into the air, barely avoiding a strike from Mordred. The green Rider went at the man controlling her, now within three feet and closing.
Mere inches apart, Cyclone reached out a hand, ready to grab Shimamura’s shirt and turn his smile upside-down. He was so close.
Yet, his hand touched nothing. It was only an after-image that vanished quickly. “Oof!” left Cyclone as he crashed onto the floor where Shimamura once stood.
Lying there, Cyclone eyed the now-glowing console with his fellow Riders. “Oh no,” he whispered.
Then, the console flashed-
“RIDER BLACKOUT, INITIATING.”
-and everything went dark.
Wow. I haven’t touched this in over a year. Welp, hopefully, this goes well.
The following was an old story idea I had many years ago (basically, a young girl finds herself in the care of the young sons of a dragon chief, whom she doesn’t like), so I thought I’d just put up what little I wrote for it.
The smell of mud lingered in the air from the recent rain shower. Dôn carefully trailed over the muddy field, wrapped in a brown cloak she borrowed from one of the peasants under her, a trusted ally. Thankfully, the tears and holes were more than enough to make her look like a mere monk or a traveler, which also helped while traveling under a cloudy sky at night.
Continuing on her path, it was not long until Dôn finally came across the rocky caves, far outside the territory of any human king. One such cave, Dôn approached only to stop just short of entering it. Still, she hid herself in the shadow of the rocky outgrowth and kept watch for anything. There was something.
As the old voice rumbled in her mind, Dôn stared into the mouth of her cave. “Hello again,” she addressed the being inside with all the posh and dignity for a royal such as herself.
“I thought… you would not come.”
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
“You rarely visit these days… I have not heard a word from you… or your court,” the voice replied in low spirits.
“You know how it is. The people might talk if they see what I do in my free time.”
“They talk… nonetheless.”
Dôn’s wry and wrinkled smile hid her welling concern. “As much as I enjoy our old banter, tell me why have you brought me out of the middle of nowhere? Surely, a meeting at your fort would do.”
“No… it would not.”
“And why is that?”
“Because… there is no one else… I can trust…”
As the words were spoken, Dôn saw a large form shift slightly in the cave. What little moonlight there was revealed ruby-colored scales as a pair of large eyes snapped open. They were as large as boulders, and the dagger-like pupils shone like stars at night. The color was something Dôn had not expected.
They were dull red.
For the first time tonight, the queen mother’s eyes widened. “No…” she gasped, then quickly composed herself. “Are you sure?” she asked, hoping her old friend was wrong
“I am weakening… It will not be long… I will succumb to the Blood Wrath,” wheezed into Dôn’s mind.
For the longest moment, Dôn struggled to find the words. “What is it you need?” she finally inquired, her expression of the utmost seriousness.
“My kin… they must be protected…”
As soon as she heard it, Dôn feared the worst. Enemies would come at all sides, if they knew the truth. The clans, their races, and even the entire kingdom would be consumed in all out war again. Dôn immediately went through all the possible contingencies she had formulated for such a situation.
With one plan in mind, Dôn looked at the eyes and curtsied as she had several times in the past. “It will be done, your majesty.”