• Member Since 31st Aug, 2012
  • offline last seen 9 hours ago

MyHobby


"For fun" is the best reason to do anything. "The best" is the best way to do everything.

More Blog Posts171

  • 111 weeks
    The Heart's Promise - Released into the Wild

    I normally announce new stories with a good old fashioned blog post, and I neglected to this time. No longer. We must maintain the traditions of old.

    For all of those who missed the debut... Behold!

    The Heart's Promise

    Read More

    1 comments · 360 views
  • 117 weeks
    Coming Soon: The Heart's Promise - Info and Preview!

    Yo guys, just wanted to update you on the situation on the new story. I'm still working on that opening. I'm not sure that it'll be out this year, but for sure you'll be able to read it sometime January.

    Read More

    1 comments · 348 views
  • 163 weeks
    Edit: In the Absence of Twilight Sparkle Chapter

    Just wanted to let you know I made a mistake on the most recent chapter of ItAoTS. I erroneously described Dr. Twilight's lab as being on the ground floor of the Magic School, while its actual location is the second floor. This is kinda a big detail to just switch around. It's fixed

    Read More

    4 comments · 366 views
  • 173 weeks
    I Made an A.I. Re-Write Scenes from my Fanfics

    This is partially to make up for National Not Writing Month, which I participated in by not even writing a single thing last month. November is always waaaaay too busy for me to make much progress (I'm busy doing my part for wildlife conservation), and it turns out the current state of the world did not change a dippy-trippy thing.

    But anyway! :pinkiecrazy: A.I. writing fanfic!

    Read More

    2 comments · 382 views
  • 200 weeks
    A War Among the Stars: Top Five Favorite Star Wars Novels

    Yo, remember that Star Wars Podcast I'm part of? We've got 11 episodes now!

    I wanted to bring special attention to episode 11 itself, where my friend and I discuss our top five favorite Star Wars Expanded Universe novels. Our main focus is on Star Wars before Disney bought it, that bygone time now known only as Legends.

    Read More

    5 comments · 327 views
Nov
24th
2015

NaNoWriMo Part 4; or, Enter the Villains! · 2:05am Nov 24th, 2015

So, the new total at the start of this week is 20,848, which is the size of a small novella! That means that I wrote 6,339 words, a step up from last week. It's nowhere near what I wrote the first week, but I knew that going in.

I do not believe that I will meet the 50,000 word goal this year. Too many different things have come together to prevent me from climbing this particular mountain. But that's okay! I'm almost halfway, and I've completed a big cut into my first original novel. There's always next year, and tomorrow is another day!

Rest assured, I intend to continue working on this story. Right up until the time it's actually complete. :pinkiehappy:

But enough about tomorrow, how's about today? I was super excited to reach the point of the first major plot point, which will set the rest of the novel into motion. Suzette has been kidnapped, and it's up to Maximilian to save her! What will become of these two small-town heroes? And who is the man who dares to stand against them? Read on to find out!



Rated Teen for Fantasy Action/Violence

Maximilian ran down the narrow hallway backstage. He glanced in the few open doorways, which had been converted from offices to storage rooms for the props. He ran a hand along the wall to keep his balance.

“Suzie!” Maximilian sucked breath into his burning lungs. “Suzie? Where are you?”

He rounded the final corner to her dressing room. His teeth snapped together. A Vercal man lay in the middle of the floor, his feathers in a bunch. Maximilian squinted; it wasn’t the one who had attacked the queen, it was the one he’d met earlier. Where they in league?

A short, thin sword sat a short distance away from the winged man’s hand. Maximilian scooped it up and pointed it at Martial. “Hey! Hey!

Martial groaned and lifted his head. A gash sat on his brow, trailing a hint of blood. “What—?”

The Vercal man pushed himself off the ground. Maximilian backed away so that he didn’t accidently skewer him.

“Where did they go?” Martial said. “Did you see them?”

Another voice answered before Maximilian could speak. “They’re gone, Marty.”

The older woman with dark hair crawled out of Suzette’s room. She clutched her gut and moaned. “Frederick took them. We’re only alive because Roufus said so.”

Maximilian chewed his lower lip. He moved the blade away from Martial. “Did either of you see a girl run past? Early-twenties, brunette, wearing a luxsilk gown? She was in trouble—”

“She’s gone, kid. She’s been taken by a bunch of bloodjarks.” Martial leaned against the wall to help himself stand. He pointed at the sword and curled his fingers. “Best thing now is to go to the authorities—”

“The real authorities,” Darla muttered.

“—and let them handle it.” Martial waved his hand. “My sword, please.”

“Th-they can’t be far.” Maximilian stared out the crushed doorway. “I’m going after them.”

“You’ll be killed.” Martial reached. “Give me my sword—”

Maximilian ran through the door before he could think better of it. “I need to borrow it for a sec, okay? Thanks!”

“Kid!” Martial snatched at him, but Maximilian slipped through his grip. “Kid, stop! Stop it, you idiot!”

Maximilian barreled through the streets. His ankles ached before he reached the first intersection. He skidded to a halt; he had no idea which way they’d actually gone. He leaned his left hand on his knee. “Suzie!”

To his right. He thought he heard a scream. A muffled curse. That could be them.

He ran faster than ever, towards the town square. The clank of armor accompanied a group of blue-sashed royal guardsmen as they ran in the opposite direction: Towards the town hall. Maximilian waved the sword. “Hey! Help!”

They paid no attention to him. They were probably on their way to assist the queen.

Maximilian frowned. He was on his own. “Drat.”

He spat foam and coughed. He tried to sooth the coarse pain in his throat, but it refused to lessen. Gritting his teeth, he pressed on, making a beeline towards the square, where the queen’s airship lay moored.

The ropes closing the square off were still arrayed around the airship. Maximilian leapt over one, but his foot got caught. He threw the sword away from himself before coming down. The harsh paved roads scuffed his palms and knees.

His bleeding hand closed around the hilt of the rapier. The giant purple envelope of the ship loomed overhead. He heard the scream again, which was cut off with a vicious bark. He brought his eyes back down to earth, where a big man with impressive sideburns was hauling Suzette up the boarding ramp. The Vercal man with the white-speckled wings walked ahead of him.

“You’re not getting away with this!” Maximilian shouted.

The two kidnappers glanced his way, the Vercal man with an impassive expression, and the big Lumen man with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s joking,” the big man said. “He’s got to be joking, right?”

Suzette snapped her head around. “Run, Max! Get away!”

“I’m not leaving!” Maximilian pointed his sword at Suzette. “Not without her.”

“He’s a right dreamboat, your boyfriend” the Lumen man said to Suzette. He shouted back to Maximilian. “Go’wan home before you hurt yourself!”

Maximilian steeled his nerves and marched forward.

“Oh for—” The Lumen man raised a gauntleted hand. “Derick, show the moron what he’s got hisself into!”

A soldier in plain, shining armor came down the ramp, a sword in his hand. The big man clapped him on the shoulder. “Make it quick. Liftoff’s in ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” The Lumen soldier approached slowly, his sword raised. The red eyes of his helmet sparked. “I’ll gut him—”

“Do not kill him,” the Vercal man said, his voice like gravel. “Just drain him.”

“Fine.”

Maximilian’s eyes widened. He was almost as tall as the soldier, but the soldier was no doubt a good deal stronger. And had years of military training. And was wearing full armor.

“Help,” Maximilian squeaked. He swung the small sword with all his might.

The soldier swatted it aside with his forearm. He them brought his far stouter sword around. Maximilian jerked the rapier to intercept the blow. It impacted with a clang and a snap.

Maximilian held his sword’s hilt in both hands. The soldier had sliced clean through his blade, leaving it a stump.

The soldier’s fingers closed around Maximilian’s throat and squeezed. Maximilian gasped, but the soldier didn’t cut off his air. Instead, something tingled deep within his chest.

The next instant, everything was white, blinding pain. Magic flowed straight from Maximilian’s chest into the soldier’s gauntlet. It was ripped right from his muscles and veins. It tore its way through his bones. It peeled from the deepest layers of his skin.

Maximilian didn’t even have the ability to scream.

When the soldier let go, he fell to his knees. His chest expanded with a mighty gasp. He fell face-forward, his strength spent, the fight knocked out of him.

The soldier took a step back, his armor glowing a brilliant gold. He swung his sword jauntily, its blade shimmering to match. “One swipe of this blade would burn right through you, boy. Shame I can’t try it out. Thanks for the entertainment.”

Maximilian drooled on the road. He pressed his hands against the ground, but his elbows flopped limply at his sides.

The solider tromped up the boarding ramp and slid his sword into its scabbard. Maximilian tried to lift himself again, with the same results. The propellers churned as the engines of the craft hummed to life.

Maximilian dug his fingers into the pavement. “Please. Please just let me reach it.”

He pressed down with his knees. He inched forward.

He lifted his eyes. The loading ramp still lay open, several feet away. “Come on. Just a little more.”

He inched along the ground. His limbs shook. His teeth chattered as adrenaline coursed to muscles that could no longer process it.

Ropes dropped from the sides of the airship as crewmembers untied the ship for launch. A scream was followed by a crash. The body of a royal guardsman crumpled on the ground, a sword sticking through his chest. Another followed soon after, his helmet smashed in. Sounds of a battle reached Maximilian’s ears.

He reached out with his hand and touched the edge of the ramp. His feet pressed back, allowing him to worm his way onto the wooden plank. He rolled onto his back, tears streaming down his face. He lifted his knees and shuffled backward. His head bumped against the edge of the deck.

The airship jolted and lifted from the ground.

Maximilian turned his head to the side and vomited overboard. He jerked his way further up the ramp as the ground retreated. He found himself in a wide, long room filled with boxes and luggage, with a narrow pathway running through the middle of it. A quick squirm brought him behind one of the larger boxes, out of sight of the path.

Not a moment later, a Lumen man in plain clothes ran through the room. He jerked a lever down. Gears cranked and turned, and the loading ramp lifted. A sucking noise echoed through the room as the door sealed shut.

Maximilian braced himself against the box. He wiped his tears on his sleeve. Blackness entered the edge of his vision.

What the heck was he supposed to do now?

He fell into unconsciousness, the question unanswered.


“Roufus!” The big man shouted to the air. “Are we away?”

“Aye, Farborn.” The Vercal man landed with a thud. He folded his gray-flecked wings. “All anchors are released and all royal guardsmen have been slain. The ship is ours.”

“Where are you taking me?” Suzette said.

“Shut up.” The man called Farborn squeezed her arm just enough to hurt. The wind whipped at his bushy, reddish hair. “Have our crew take us out. I want to make good time to Vercalis.”

Suzette’s jaw plummeted. “Vercalis?

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” Farborn slapped a passing soldier in the back of the head. “Derick! Where’s the boss?”

“He said he’d be down below.” The soldier pulled off his helmet, revealing a pitted, sunken face with dark eyes. “‘Changin’ his colors,’ he said. Whatever that means.”

Farborn rolled his eyes. “Take the maiden to the bridge and keep her quiet. I need a talk with our illustrious leader.”

“The bridge?” Derick bared his teeth in a grimace. “There’s nothin’ to do in there!”

“This ain’t the barracks, Ricky,” Farborn growled. “There ain’t no dumb-as-bricks villagers tah terrorize! You’re a mercenary, now, so do as I says!”

He shoved Suzette towards Derick. The solider caught her, his dark, unfriendly eyes trailing downward. “Well,” Derick said, “at least she ain’t hard on the eyes—”

“Keep your mitts off her.” Farborn glanced over to where Roufus was giving orders to the deckhands. He swore beneath his breath. “She’s to be unharmed.”

Suzette snorted. “And I’m sure I’m touched and thankful for the consideration. Thugs.”

“Mercenaries, love.”

Farborn cracked his neck and made his way below deck. Derick prodded the small of Suzette’s back, driving her towards the back of the vessel. “Keep movin’,” he said. “It’s about to get real breezy up here.”

If she listened, she could almost hear the wind whistling through the empty space between his ears. “Even if I’m a captive, I wouldn’t mind just a smidgeon of respect.”

“Funny girl.”

The upward-sweeping bow of the airship’s gondola had a raised deck, where various stations for crossbowmen were placed, overlooking the front and sides of their flight path. To either side, a staircase led down to the main deck, and between them a simple door led into a cabin; the enclosed bridge.

She was unceremoniously shoved into the room. Derick stepped through and locked the door behind them. He gestured to a series of chairs bolted into the wall. “Have a seat. Milady.”

She nestled into the seat and decided to ignore the restraining belt for the moment. She tapped her fingers on her knees and took in the bridge.

Wide, clear windows showed the world in front of them. The ground lay vast and dark dozens of meters below, while clouds approached from above to engulf them in light drizzle. Instruments dotted the other walls and several consoles situated around the two-meter-diameter ship’s wheel. She recognized a compass, and a barometer, but the others were strange to her.

The helmsman touched a lever to the left of the wheel. The ship rocked gently. He wasn’t dressed in the blue uniform of Lumenaria’s air corps, but a strange sea-green outfit. She winced when she noticed a blood stain on the floor; she guessed she knew where the original pilot had gone.

Derick moved to the window to speak with another soldier. The two of them were half-armored, only the chest plate, gauntlets, and boots covering their bodies. Beneath, they wore heavy leather clothing. Their hair lay damp against their heads, covered in sweat from the struggle they’d won.

Across the bridge, a third half-armored soldier loomed over another crew member, who was inspecting dials. There was her, and there were five men, on an airship flying far over the ground headed overseas.

“Yay,” Suzette said.

She rubbed her neck. Her bare shoulders felt cold at the high altitudes. She slowly brought her hand down to hold it over her pounding heart. There wasn’t any way out. There wasn’t anywhere to turn. There wasn’t anything she could do.

There were a few lift-ships fastened to the hull.

She shook her head. It was crazy. She’d have to fight her way through an entire ship of brigands, and then pilot a lift-ship down to the ground, and then evade capture as she made her way back to Lighton.

Derick looked her way with a disgusting cackle. His fellow turn-coat soldier joined in.

Crazy, Suzette thought, might be a good deal better than whatever they had planned.

She took a deep, calming breath. She relaxed her body, starting at her toes and moving up through her legs, stomach, chest, arms, shoulders, and ending with her neck. She looked at the lever beside the ship’s wheel. The helmsman adjusted it with a slight twitch.

She blew air between her lips. A spark lit deep within her chest. It burst into magical light, spreading to every part of her body. Her fingertips tingled with undirected energy. She hummed a small tune, and her Heartsong came to life.

The lever flicked all the way to the right. The ship tilted to match. The soldiers and crew members stumbled and soon lost their grip on the floor. A crash of armor and weapons followed them across the room, where they hit the window with a collective curse.

Derick pushed himself to his feet. He leaned against the glass with one hand and snarled. Suzette held tight to the restraints on her seat and jerked the lever the opposite direction.

Derick’s mouth dropped open. He flew across the room, his fellow crew members tumbling after him.

Derick crawled his way across the floor. He gripped the helm and steadied himself against it. A look of rage entered his dark eyes. He reached both hands for his scabbard and pulled the sword free.

Suzette reached out and made a fist, magic flashing from her fingertips. The sword leapt from Derick’s grasp, slicing his palms. She flicked her wrist, sending the pommel of the sword into his nose. Another twist brought the sword’s tip sliding across his cheek.

He rolled on the floor, spewing profanities.

The other two soldiers rose, while the crewmembers recoiled away from the fight. One drew an axe, the other hefted his spear. Suzette brought the sword floating closer to her, brandishing it at the two thugs.

While they were focused on her, she tilted the lever and spun the wheel in opposite directions. The airship jerked and rolled. The floor came up to meet them with an ear-splitting crunch. Suzette’s teeth snapped against each other. Her jaw rang out with a sharp pain in the depths of her molars. The sword fell from her magic grasp.

She slumped to the floor. Her silky dress caused her to slide towards the front of the bridge. She kicked out and reached for something to grab onto, but nothing lay close enough. She thumped against the front walls and found herself right beside the unintelligible, inconsolable Derick.

He wiped tears from his face and grasped at her with his gauntleted hand. She kicked his wrist, eliciting a howl. She made sure to keep her distance. If there was one thing her father had ever taught her, it was that you didn’t want to get grabbed by a soldier. Especially not with the magic siphons in their armor. Her cheeks burned hot; this same soldier had probably done just that to Maximilian.

“This one’s for my friend!” She grabbed the sword in her hand and slammed the pommel against Derick’s forehead. The soldier fell limp.

Her bare feet held traction a little better than her dress did. She climbed towards the doorway as the ship leveled out. She just had to reach a lift-ship before the crew could recover. Maybe she’d run into the Vercal man, but she could probably keep him back with a flying sword-swipe or two. She grinned. She thought she might actually make it, despite all odds.

The door opened, and the way was blocked by a man. His armor was an earthy, dark red, made of overlapping scales. Every inch of his body was protected by the hard, cold, angular plates. Knives dangled from his belt. Spikes rose from the knuckles of his gauntlets. His triangular helmet obscured everything but his bright, piercing green eyes.

His leathery cape billowed in the cold wind. “Stand down, Suzette Darning.”

Suzette reacted on instinct. She threw her sword at his face, guiding it with her Heartsong. It struck with the force of a runaway carriage. A dull clang pealed through the bridge.

The man turned his head towards her. A small scrape could be seen running up his helmet, just across his cheek. He spoke again, his voice a rumble that rose just above the wind. “Stand down, Suzette Darning. This is your final warning.”

She took the sword in her hand. She held it in both hands and backed away from the man. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Wh-what do you want?”

“We want your help, Darning.” He took a long stride forward, matching her pace. “We want to see history come to life.”

She gripped the lever tight. She smirked at him. “I want to get out of here.” She jerked the lever to the side.

She waited for several oppressively long seconds, but nothing happened.

“We cut the lines to the bridge.” He reached behind his back. He drew a long, wide sword from a scabbard. When he moved to a two-handed grip, she could see that it was nearly as long as she was tall. He pointed it at her throat. “Throw down your sword, Darning.”

Suzette licked her lips. Magic still hummed throughout her body. She reached a hand to push her glasses higher up her nose.

She threw a burst of magic at his feet. The man toppled, landing on his knees with a grunt. She ran around him, her legs pumping with all her might. His sword stabbed into the floor. She skidded to a halt inches away from being painfully tripped.

“That’s a beautiful gift you have, Suzette Darning,” the man rumbled. He rose to his feet and lifted his sword in one hand. “I have seen only one other Heartsong like it: Your father’s.”

He jabbed. She smacked the tip of his sword away with the flat of her blade. He drew his weapon back and stabbed again with a smooth motion. She jumped out of the way, her blood pumping hot in her ears. She raced past his blade and tried to stab him in the armpit, where his armor was lightest.

He raised his sword. Her blade slid neatly off of his.

“You have the same spirit as your father,” the man said. She swung hard again, which he deflected with little effort. “An attitude that says surrender is impossible. A life that refuses to give in. A fire that refuses to die.”

She released her sword and moved it with her Heartsong. It swished through the air to cut at him, but each strike left nothing more than a chink in his plated armor.

“What you do not have,” the man said, ignoring the blade chopping at his face, “is his training. His knowledge and wisdom. His companions.”

An ember drifted through the air to land on her bare shoulder. She yelped at the sudden pain and brushed it away.

“You have a very special Heartsong, Suzette Darning.” He lifted a clawed gauntlet. “Would you like to see mine?”

She pulled her sword back. She held it at arm’s length, her knees shaking. Her palms grew sweaty and her knuckles grew white.

The air became a haze around the man. Embers danced on the wind. At first Suzette thought the airship had caught fire, but a closer look told her that they were coming from beneath the man’s armor. His eyes shimmered with the magic pouring up from his heart.

Flames wreathed his fingers and danced on his palm. The fire spread to coat his arm. He turned his hand over and admired the orange glow. “Heartsongs come in many forms. Some are subtle and weak, such as the ability to forecast the weather. Others are extremely specific, such as the intuition to decipher ancient texts. You and I—”

He flicked a finger. A ball of flame leaped to her feet and sparked against the floor. She shuffled away from the scorching heat.

“—our Heartsongs set us apart. They set us above. You and I are meant for something greater than guard duty and clothes mending. We are kings.” He clenched his fist tight, choking the flames. “And together, we shall conquer worlds.”

Suzette’s back thumped against the port window. “Wh-what makes you think I’ll help you?”

“You haven’t a choice in the matter.”

The man flicked his sword in a flurry of strokes. Suzette yelped as the blade sliced her leg, her arm, her shoulder, and her side in a matter of seconds. With a last swing, the man cut upwards.

Her glasses flew from her face. He snatched them out of midair. “Understand this, Suzette Darning: Another inch and that would have been your head.”

A trail of blood trickled down her nose. She slid slowly to the deck. Her sword fell from numbed hands.

The man sheathed his long sword behind his back. “Frederick!”

Farborn stumbled in. He let out a low whistle as he surveyed the damage. “Well, I’ll be—”

“Take her to Vincent,” the armored man said. “Have him patch her up and give her a change of clothes. I’ll speak with her again when she’s ready to talk.”

Frederick Farborn opened his mouth to speak again, but apparently thought better of it. He gave the man a nod. “Yes sir, Cap’n Veil. Whatever you say.”

Harold Veil walked past him with barely a glance. “And get somebody to clean up this mess.”

Suzette stared at the doorway long after Veil had vanished from sight. Tears collected in her eyes. Her jaw ached and her limbs stung.

Frederick loomed close. She grabbed at the sword, but he kicked it away.

“You try any of your magic on me, love,” he growled, “an’ I’ll twist your ear off.”

"You're going to give mercenaries a bad name" ~René Belloq

Report MyHobby · 318 views ·
Comments ( 5 )

First off, you go back and forth on calling Martial by name and by species. This indicates point of view changes, but they are so fast they are disorienting.

I was rather surprised by how humorous Max's scene was. You'd think such a dangerous situation would be much more grim. I haven't seen this much humor in your other segments, but I rather like it.

So, heart songs are just an individual's magic ability. Okay, but I don't see why they're called songs.

3564961

First off, you go back and forth on calling Martial by name and by species. This indicates point of view changes, but they are so fast they are disorienting.

It's more a case of Lavender Unicorn Syndrome, referring to a character by a description instead of a name. The entire scene before the break was from Max's POV. Which still leaves me with the problem of the scene being jarring and unnecessarily wordy, so that's something to fix.

I was rather surprised by how humorous Max's scene was. You'd think such a dangerous situation would be much more grim. I haven't seen this much humor in your other segments, but I rather like it.

Maximilian has taken the role of comic relief for much of this story so far. A lot of the humorous bits revolve around the fact that he has no skill fighting, he's a bit clumsy, and he's about as threatening as a puppy. That scene was squished between two high-tension sections, so I felt the moments with him trying and failing to be heroic were decent for varying the mood a bit.

So, heart songs are just an individual's magic ability. Okay, but I don't see why they're called songs.

Context will help with that. Music is an important part of the story, both for the characters and the plot. Every heart has a song, you just have to learn how to play it.

Some nice action, and I love airships. Would you say this story is as dark, or less dark than Daybreak?

3566545

Some nice action, and I love airships. Would you say this story is as dark, or less dark than Daybreak?

Airships are my jam.

Not nearly as dark. There's lots of action, but it never dips into the bare knuckled violence of DayBreak. It's more "movie version of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" than "movie version of Return of the King."

In addition, we don't have lingering heartache or depression as themes. It's along the veins of Raiders of the Lost Ark or Star Wars in tone. There is a bit of darkness to the world, but it's a seasoning rather than a marinade. It's pretty pulpy and adventurous, is what I'm saying.

3566885 Oooh, those are good references. Based on what we've seen so far, the tone actually reminds of The Three Musketeers for some reason.

Login or register to comment