#more specifically my beloved thora tapped into the plane of cosmic horror as a last-ditch effort to kill intruders and here are a few of th

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Eyyy I finally have a shareable WIP, which is chapter two of when your seams have come unknitted (and you cry out to the sky).

CW: death and mild horror

~

"It's too quiet," Shade said.

"Maybe everyone followed her into the basement?" Pog said.

Ari's foot hit something, and as he looked down he was once more thankful that his mark was shielding him and his friends. "Not everyone."

At Ari's feet was the corpse of member of the Stormreach guard. They were clawing at their eyes and ears, and their face was frozen in absolute terror. There was nothing around the Stryke Force to show what the guard had been so scared of. They didn't have any visible stab wounds. Unless Thora had been lying about how strong her telepathy actually was, something else had killed the guard.

The three of them continued toward Thora's office, passing by a couple more corpses with varying levels of injury. None of the injuries looked like they were truly lethal. All the guards had the same look of horror etched onto their faces.

As they entered the basement, the Stryke Force found a guardian-bot that was missing a leg, but that wasn't what had killed it. No, that was the purple mark that had been scrawled onto it. Thora's mark had been scrawled onto it, and there was a crystal outcropping ripping outward from where the eye of her mark was. If Ari didn't know better, he would have said that the crystal was the same material as Thora's mind blade, but that wasn't how mind blades were supposed to work.

"I didn't know she could mark things with her mark like you used to," Pog said.

"That's not how it worked for me, though." Ari swallowed his dread. "And I was only able to do that after I made a deal with the Prince."

~

I'll tag (participation is optional) @avirxy, @littlecactiguy, @pirate-melody, and @icy-writes

WIP Wednesday, squeaking in pretty late in the day due to family and IRL obligations.

From a WIP AOS fic:

Jim is still not sure if his appointment to the Enterprise was nepotism in action, or just the fact that 90% of his graduating class and almost half the starships that size were decimated in the Battle of Vulcan, so the ‘Fleet was horrifically short-staffed, and needed a pretty face for recruitment propaganda.

Either way, he was far too immature for that chair.

He’d give anything to have learned that lesson some other way, but he owes it to everyone, and himself, to make sure that it is learned better late than never. Dying kind of gives you perspective, a little bit.

Being brought back to life, when so many were not that lucky, then ruthlessly wrecks that perspective.

No-pressure tagging @strangenewwords, @tigereyes45, @calliethetrekkie, @muirmarie, @ncc1701ohno, @affixjoy and anyone else who wants to participate! Whatcha workin' on?