Topher Lydon
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Chapter 4 THE CROWDED MAN
Topher Lydon commented on Topher Lydon's story chapter in Chapter 4 THE CROWDED MAN
We all know that is made from some alien life form that's been squeezed into bottles by unethically sourced workers in the back water colonies. -
THE CROWDED MAN The first crack appeared in the hangar. Lukas was sitting on the cargo container, watching the rain, when the world tilted sideways. Not physically—the concrete floor was still level, the Raptor still humming, the drips still falling in their steady rhythm. But something inside him *shifted*, like a tectonic plate grinding against its neighbor, and suddenly he wasn't in Volgograd anymore. He was in mud. Deep mud, the kind that sucked at his
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He will continue to be a rather thorny problem for Radoslav, the Church, and Frankia as a whole as he ascends. His son is FAR WORSE
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Lloyd prefers his little Lord to be a bit messy. Now it should be noted, because someone brought it up. When the book series started it was 1095, it is currently 1098. Both Julian and Wylan started out at 15-17. They are both later teens to 20 years old at this point. Remember that Lloyd was around 20- 21 and at the upper edge of being a Squire. just to make it clear.
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It was a very sacred part of the era. Fell out of favour because the Church doesn't like to admit it used to have a rite of same-sex marriage. But it is the ultimate protection for Wylan that Darien can do. A papal bull, from a legate of Rome, sealing them as untouchable. Good luck persecuting that. "You're a damn dirty sodomite!" "Actually we're clean sodomites, sanctioned by the Pope, and the might of the Church. Care to see the paperwork?"
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His face was a face, that was a face, that had a face I didn't notice at the time that I got locked into a repetitive trope, I have a bad habit of doing this. Good morning Guess Darien got what he wanted.
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Ch18 The command tent stank of fear. Darien had been standing at the map table for three hours, watching the markers that represented Ridwan of Aleppo's army creep across the worn leather, and he had come to a terrible understanding: they were going to lose. Not tomorrow, not next week, but now, today, in the hours before dawn when the scouts brought the last reports and the lords who had been arguing about supplies and desertions and the things that were killing them faster than th
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The nebula fell away like a curtain parting. Volgograd spread beneath the Raptor's hull—not a planet but a *statement*, a circuit board of light and shadow that curved upward at the edges, following the contour of the orbital platform that held it suspended above the gas giant below. Spires of chrome and obsidian pierced the perpetual rain, their surfaces alive with holographic advertisements that flickered and swirled and *screamed*. The city didn't end at the horizon. It had no horizon.
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Who do you think you are?
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Ashot, it should be noted, was not in the Pavillion, and given his... talents and methods of survival, he's arguably in as much danger as Stephen is. Being the youngest and the smallest of the group.
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The cold had stopped being something a man noticed and become something he *was*. Ishan stood at the edge of the Vanguard camp, Wylan's waterproofed cloak pulled tight around his shoulders, and tried to remember what it felt like to be warm. He could not. The memory had frozen somewhere in the long weeks since the earthquake, had turned to frost and shattered, leaving only the present: the mud that was not mud but frozen earth that cut through boots worn thin, the wind that came off the mou
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I labelled one of mine REVISION 2025 at the top of each chapter I revised. You'll find most people will get it once you do what you have to do Good luck
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Ibelin features heavilly in a later book concerning Ishan and Sebastian Ibelin.
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Half-elf ex-cop Flynn O'Briain is losing a war on a cellular level. His human DNA and Elven heritage are tearing each other apart. When a murdered PI leaves Flynn a blueprint for a corporate energy project that uses magical beings as batteries, he and Poitr are pulled into a conspiracy that reaches from the streets of LA to the highest levels of power. The clock is ticking. Flynn's body is failing. And the only cure is in the hands of the woman they're trying to stop.
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i wrote one many many many years ago, it's up on Nifty I think. I can't remember what I called it
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I have bounced a ball off of my wall, it has a crack in it... it's a long crack. I swear this cottage is going to fall down before I do. I'm not bored... nope, no siree...
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I don't know what to do with myself, usually my morning starts with a cup of coffee, and I run the morning's chapter through a text-to-voice program and listen to it while I putter. (It lets me catch most... some... sorta a few... one or two errors) Then when it's done I hit publish. This means I have woken up enough to do a little writing. I am writing the end of construct at the moment, and another story where two idiots accidentially steal an alien flying saucer, and go to an alien world in the equivilent of the 1950's level of development... and chaos ensues where they are accidentially the aliens turning cows inside out, and kidnapping people all because they push the wrong buttons) hmmmm this is an A-typical day and weird.
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It's weird not posting a morning chapter :: kicks a can:: Good morning none the less
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He is very much, as you said, an utter mess.
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I mean, technically, a Cuddle sort of saw the resurgent Empire get born. So you know, kinda true. No cuddle = No Matt Elias = No Excalibur = No liberation of Karin = No Empire.... hmmmm Rikard, undone by a damn cuddle clause in his own greatest work
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It's my way of helping GA out a bit, since they do so much for me.
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Eriks back story give a lot of explanation as to who he is, and why he slowly opens up to Lukas. Tripp, once he shows up, gives a lot of this.
