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This is a FanFic in progress I'm writing for a game called Rise of Immortals by Petroglyph (now renamed as Battle for Graxia and is currently in Open Beta) and I've also posted this on the game's official forum, where the thread for this story contains the Author's Notes and other things.
This fanfic's thread in the game's official forum: http://www.battleforgraxia.com/forums/index.php?/topic/472-roi-bfg-fanfic-damnatio-memoriae/
"Do you think I could ever fall in love with a human man?"
That was the easy question; if she hadn't already, they wouldn't be standing here, so close she can hear him swallow nervously and smell the hay-sweet scent of his skin. No, the hard one was the one she couldn't ask, much less answer. And it has nothing to do with the war.
An expansion of canon, and an exploration of how certain events could have impacted a female Tabris.
In the Junkyard, each and every inhabitant is built from fragments of another reality -- leading to the inevitable question of where certain details came into play.
Corruption. Overextension. Tension. Abuses of power. Bureaucratic failure.
The Empire is rotten to the core. There's no point in saving it. I will force this beast to collapse on its own weight. By joining the army, I will become the piece that starts the domino effect. It won't be easy. But I have to do it. Because that is what I believe is right. Because that's what my father's wish would be.
A rewritten version of "Dying Wish", almost a completely new story. Check notes for changes!
15 May 2020
Blink chucked beneath him, an airy sound that lifted Duncan's spirit. “That's not a question, Gunshow. What am I supposed to do with it?”
“I dunno, take it as it is?” Duncan shrugged. “Didn't mean so much by it.”
Blink looked up at him and smiled. “Hmmm. My turn. Who was your first?”
Duncan and Blink play a game...
- Part 7 of Past The Present
You don't let the pang in your wing manifest as a grimace when you arrange yourself carefully. Still he scoops you up in gentle hands and cups you close to his chest like you’re precious. Warmth seeps into the sharp splinters of your broken pieces and you can feel your heartbeat throbbing around them. You want to rest on the soft plain of his palms forever.
or: season 3 from David's POV