Alternate Universe
Generally, a landing spot for minor/major alterations of the given story in-setting described briefly so as to manifest a good/bad/subtle end - NOT for your modern coffee shops and recontextualizations. 86,934 / 21
Maybe we all have a touch of the fear of imperial vessels.
Isn't it so good to be there when you're needed?
Maybe the goal isn't so grand as all that.
do you really want to live forever?
And the stupid face, the glasses, and the gun!
It's clear enough what this is about, isn't it?
It's clear enough what this is about, isn't it?
Isn't it so good to be optimistic for the future?
No, really, tell me why.
I come to you, defenses down. I trust you; you are not a child.
Or, it's the one where Hugo doesn't die - for real this time.
Or, it's the one where Hugo doesn't die - for real this time.
Aletta is all commotion, when they return. The queen, then, just stands back and watches.
Someone else, handily enough, finds Haze before the big man does. It's not much, but there is a story to it...
Well, let's just say some very interesting things might happen.
There in the midst of it, so alive and alone, words support like bone. Like...bone.
Minoth liked Uraya a hell of a lot more than he had Indol. Until Addam Origo showed up, that is.
Why is it that you only get caught in pitches unsavory when you're doing something you actually care about? Why is it that you hold things the tightest when you're about to throw them away?
Won't you tell me how you feel?
You know what they say. Our problems do seem to be piling up...
The worst conglomeration of tags you ever did or didn't want to see, and all the same concepts we've always been peddling. This won't be absolutely anyone's cup of tea, indeed it may even be slightly problematic, and I apologize in advance.
Does earth plug a hole in heaven, or heaven plug a hole in earth? How wonderful to be so profound, when everything you are is dying underground.
Fox the fox, rat on the rat. You can ape the ape, I know about that.
In more desperate moments, one might quip softly that we very nearly always end as we began. But if we began alone...well, let's just not do that, hmm?
Blades were merely the tools. Merely the tools. Blades didn't need saving, right? Blades didn't need saving because their plight was already assured. Blades unborn, Blades never babies like that precious child he was too late to save. How could they be saved from the very nature of their existence? ...Ah. And how could humans from theirs?