#unless its a cosplay and even then it wont be perfect/will LOOK like a cosplay

[lecliss]

I kinda feel like Seph's FMV model from the original game was more intimidating than his 7R model is. Like in the original he had these huge inhuman bright eyes that stared directed into your soul but the remake model is just like. Some guy that actually walks around dressed Like That. I can't take him seriously. He's just A Guy. That's A Person.

[literaphobe]

HITW top plays are always weird. Like unless people parkour clutch like Fundy and Dream have, do really hard jumps that they are the sole survivor of like Jojo did before (I think Tubbo got that one too though so I would look for a better clip) or do something new or extreme (like winning all three rounds?) it doesn’t really mean much tbh and not that exciting.

hi. the first time i tried answering this i was halfway through my ranking before i got sniped while switching between tumblr and the video TUMBLR U NEED TO STOP EATING ASK RESPONSESSSSS anyway im on my computer now just to be safe AND im gonna evaluate mcc all things' top 10 plays list

10 - antvenom hitw -> eh. like good on him ig but someone has to win a hitw round and it happened to be him. like idr him doing any insane clutch to stay alive or surviving multiple rounds ?

9 - zeuz meltdown -> i admit this is clutch his teammates were frozen and he killed 3 people on purple on his own wasnt an ace but it was p good

8 - ponk parkour tag -> good and perfect!!!!!!! no notes

7 - sylvee meltdown -> ALSO good sylvee aced red which consisted of sapnap foolish gumi... sharpshooters who were literally cosplaying valo characters like they are VERY good and she still got the upper hand

6 - hannah survival games -> AGAIN very good and deserved hannah had the most kills in SG by quite a bit 7 is very impressive for SG fr SO great

5 - captainsparklez parkour tag -> it IS cracked tbf like zeuz tagged antvenom and pete (POOR PETE) out almost instantly so the fact that cap was being chased the whole round and survived is very cool but...... 5th....? its ranked a little too high sawry

4 - sapnap battle box - sapnap was top player of battle box but i wont lie this isn't even anywhere close to being sapnap's best battle box iirc? idk man like how many kills did he even get in his other battle boxes. its p standard tho sapnaps pvp plays tend to make it into these top 10 videos lol

3 - purpled tgttos -> .......................................................................................................................................................................ok fine. wjatever. his lobby map bridging was really good. top 3 tho... idk man...

2 - fruit parkour tag -> ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? HUH??????????? OH MY GOD. im suddenly mad. upon rewatch i didn't realize they placed it second. IT WASNT EVEN THE FUCKING RECOIRD?????? WHEN DREAM DID IT IN 12 FUCKING SECONDS NO ONE GAF??????????????????????????????????? BROTHER HE WAS EITHER NOT INCLUDED THEN OR LIKE 10TH AS A BEST PLAY WHAT IS THIS BULLSHIT ISTG IM REWATCHING THE MCC23 TOP PLAYS VIDEOS

1 - green dodgebolt -> like this wasn't even a clutch dodgebolt or anything they just won like there will be winners and losers include an actual play from this team instead??? there's fucking plenty jojo was literally first???? zero top plays from the person in literal first place???

also pete ace race/his second half of mcc25 was only an honorable mention... like huhhhhhhhhhhhh he should've been an actual top 10 play as should jojo SHE WAS LITERALLY CROWNED S TIER AND ON UR BOSS'S (CPK) TEAM WYDDDD

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 50 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 50 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning. ��PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

She accepted that, and went further aft to the helmsman.  It was still Darkistry who was holding their course.  Tanlin took the helm tackle while Darkistry drank her warm broth.  Even with the tackle to take the jolt, it was hard to keep the ship steady when a wave took the stern and tried to push the rudder out of line.

In lulls of wind, Tanlin was able to yell questions and get answers shouted back.

“Wye int’ t’e storm?”

“It’s a Coriolis storm, a cyclone!”

“So?”

“It has a calmer core where we can ride the storm north and escape over the pole to another fleet!”

“‘Oose idea wa’ t’at?”

“Mine. Captain liked it though!”

Darkistry took back the steering tackle and Tanlin saw how she braced and adjusted the rudder just before the following seas hit the ship.  She could now better appreciate the artistry with which Darkistry was handling the vessel.

Carefully, using the storm lines, Tanlin made her way back.  Screaming wind, rain and seas flooding across the deck nearly took her.  The storm lines kept her from being washed away.

Regaining her feet she got to the companionway hatch.  It was opened at her knock and she hastened in, accompanied by a rush of wave and wind-driven rain.  She made her way forward down the dark corridor, bracing against the walls to keep from falling as the ship rolled and pitched underfoot.  Only three candle-lanterns lit the big mess room, leaving it a gloomy cavern.  Hands came from the dimness and assisted her in shedding her soaked foul-weathers.  A hot broth was thrust into her hands and she was guided to a bench to sit.

A respectful silence followed while Tanlin sipped her drink and got some warmth back into her.  She smiled at the anxious faces about her.

“T’e Ca’tain knows w’at ‘e’s about.  We’re steerin’ deeper int’ t’e storm.  Unless we strike somet’in’, we should be in nae special danger.”

“What I want to know is why?  Why is the Captain steering this course?” the voice of Mister Timms asked from the shadows about her.

“Tis a Coriolis Cyclone.  We’re makin’ for t’e calmer ‘eart so t’at we can ride t’e storm north, safe from pursuit.  T’e Coriolis storms all die about 650 or 700 North an’ we’ll be able t’ slip t’rough t’e Dragon Sea t’ safety.

“Is Master Selked ‘ere?”

“Yes, Lady Tanlin, I am.”

“D’ we ‘ave a Main Spar in stores?  Prefer’bly an old ane?”

Master Selked bent his gaze to the wildly swinging lantern nearest him and thought a moment, “There’s a main-yard that was damaged and saved for salvage after our last storm.  That was down in Arrakan waters, Lady.  It has a split and crush damage to the interior structure of the outer port-side quarter.”

“T’at’ll be perfect!” Tanlin enthused.  “Master Calin!  We’ll need all o’ t’e old or worn out cordage in t’e ropewalk t’ rig ‘t. Master Arran!  We just replaced a wind-bagged main sail.  We need t’ get ‘t out an’ furl ‘t t’ t’e spar wit’ t’e old riggin’.  We wont t’ make ‘t look like t’e wind got int’ t’e sail an’ blew ‘t open, breakin’ t’e spar!  We’ll cast ‘t overboard for t’e search t’ find.”

The crew leaped into action, glad of something to do.  The Rope Walk was opened and the spar and sail brought in.  Ropes were sorted and the sail rigged to the yardarm so that it appeared to have lost reefing points and blown open to the force of the storm.  Experts debated over how it came loose and which rigging should be borne with it.  

One of the men who had helped with the Fauline repairs produced a broken chunk of railing.  It had been ripped free when the Fauline was rammed.  Properly secured and sized rigging was attached, including a portion of a mast brace from standing rigging.

When all was ready, it was wrestled to an amidships companionway and the storm hatch opened.  Cold, wind driven rain slashed in, followed by a gush of water as a wave rolled the length of the ship down the deck. The crew, men and women both, wrestled the big decoy out.  Once the wind found it, it became near impossible to manage.  Finally they got it out onto the deck.  They struggled to get it overside before wind and wave could hurl it like a deadly missile at their own rigging. As they watched, the yardarm took some water through the split and the broken end sank, pivoting the arm up like a marker buoy as it floated away from the ship.

Captain Barad gave them the ancient OK sign of circled thumb and forefinger, with the other fingers spread.

Back in the common room of the mess, Tanlin saw to the distribution of rations and a cup of warm drink to everyone involved.

Mister Timms entered along with helmsman Macoul, both shaking the water from their foul-weather gear.  “They won’t let us replace them. They’ve been on watch continuously for near twenty four hours!”

“How are they holding up?” Tanlin asked anxiously.

“They are both alert and strong for now,” said Macoul.  “As long as I was there, Darkistry let me help with the tackle.  She always works it ahead of the storm, better than I can do it.  I gave up and joined Mister Timms in returning.”

Hours later, the tocsin rattled ‘watch change, crew on deck!’  There had been a very perceptible alteration in the nature of the storm. The waves were still rough, though nowhere near the height or power of before.  The wind was dying down from its previous ferocity.  They had made it to the eye of the storm, the so called calm center of the cyclone.  Calm was a relative term.  It was still hard gusty weather and the seas were choppy and heavy, filled with the wrack stirred up by the storm.

Without waiting to be ordered, Lenai Halin began to mount the ratlines to inspect the sails and rigging for storm damage.

“Can I come, too, Mother?” Arnat called.

“Sure, son.  Remember, if I tell you to stop or wait someplace, you do it. The rigging can be tricky while it’s wet like this.”  She looked on with pride as Arnat refused the help of a deck-hand in getting up to the rail.  The ratlines were like a rope ladder going up from the rail to high on the foremast.  Each mast had them.  They were spaced for grown folk, not children, but once Arnat had a grip he climbed quickly and surely  to where his mother was waiting.  They climbed easily, side by side, up to the first lookout.

The jibs were billowed out tight in the breeze ahead of them.  Lenai examined them critically.  “What do you see, Arnat?  Are the sails still sound?”  She waited patiently while Arnat looked as closely as his perch permitted.

“The lead jib mid-seam is showing signs of stretching, mother.”

“You are right about the sail,” she said with a smile.  “Noticed like a true sail-lofter and rigging surveyor.”  She paused and corrected, “Up here, I’m Lenai.  Remember that.”  She gave him a quick hug while automatically catching a line for balance as the ship yawed under them.

“Moth. . .Lenai, there are two reefing points on the mid-jib that are starting to tear out.  If they aren’t fixed, the sail will split in the next storm.”

“Good eyes, Arnat.  That covers the fore-sails used in this storm.  Let’s go on up.  We have to survey the running rigging.  Those head-blocks took almost the whole load of this ship during the blow.”

Ratlines could only take them part way to the head-blocks, just below the masthead.  Clinging casually to the ropes and bracing against the mast, she examined all of the lashings and the condition of the blocks.

“What do you see here, Sharp-eyes?”

Arnat climbed past her and looked everything over carefully.

“These lashings held up well.  That line,” he pointed, “has chafing.” Then he caught what his mother had seen.  “The block wheel has frozen, that’s why the line chafed!”

“I knew that there was a reason I taught you to think!  Good catch!” Lenai wrapped an arm around her son, grabbed an up-haul with her free hand and both legs and slid down to the blocks for the mid-jib. Everything there passed inspection and they slid on down to the deck. Barad was waiting there for their report.  Lenai proudly pushed Arnat forward.  “Make our report, crewman Arnat,” she ordered.

Arnat, a little big-eyed at the trust, honor and responsibility, said, “Captain Barad, Sir, the fore-jib head-block has frozen.  It needs replacement, along with the uphaul.  Both jibs need to be replaced for maintenance.  There is minor stretching in the mid-seam of the fore and some tears starting around two reefing points on the mid.”

A grin split Barad’s face, “Very good, Arnat.  We will get men on it right away.”

Fresh sails were broken out and the slight damage repaired before it could grow to ship damaging or destroying proportions.  All around them the storm clouds could be seen charging in a wide circle, while overhead the sky was a clear blue.

Barad and Darkistry gladly gave up the control of the ship and went below, aiming for food and bunks in that order.  The crew surrounded them with congratulations and pressed hot drinks and food on them until they could never have eaten or drunk it all.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 50

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

She accepted that, and went further aft to the helmsman.  It was still Darkistry who was holding their course.  Tanlin took the helm tackle while Darkistry drank her warm broth.  Even with the tackle to take the jolt, it was hard to keep the ship steady when a wave took the stern and tried to push the rudder out of line.

In lulls of wind, Tanlin was able to yell questions and get answers shouted back.

“Wye int’ t’e storm?”

“It’s a Coriolis storm, a cyclone!”

“So?”

“It has a calmer core where we can ride the storm north and escape over the pole to another fleet!”

“‘Oose idea wa’ t’at?”

“Mine. Captain liked it though!”

Darkistry took back the steering tackle and Tanlin saw how she braced and adjusted the rudder just before the following seas hit the ship.  She could now better appreciate the artistry with which Darkistry was handling the vessel.

Carefully, using the storm lines, Tanlin made her way back.  Screaming wind, rain and seas flooding across the deck nearly took her.  The storm lines kept her from being washed away.

Regaining her feet she got to the companionway hatch.  It was opened at her knock and she hastened in, accompanied by a rush of wave and wind-driven rain.  She made her way forward down the dark corridor, bracing against the walls to keep from falling as the ship rolled and pitched underfoot.  Only three candle-lanterns lit the big mess room, leaving it a gloomy cavern.  Hands came from the dimness and assisted her in shedding her soaked foul-weathers.  A hot broth was thrust into her hands and she was guided to a bench to sit.

A respectful silence followed while Tanlin sipped her drink and got some warmth back into her.  She smiled at the anxious faces about her.

“T’e Ca’tain knows w’at ‘e’s about.  We’re steerin’ deeper int’ t’e storm.  Unless we strike somet’in’, we should be in nae special danger.”

“What I want to know is why?  Why is the Captain steering this course?” the voice of Mister Timms asked from the shadows about her.

“Tis a Coriolis Cyclone.  We’re makin’ for t’e calmer ‘eart so t’at we can ride t’e storm north, safe from pursuit.  T’e Coriolis storms all die about 650 or 700 North an’ we’ll be able t’ slip t’rough t’e Dragon Sea t’ safety.

“Is Master Selked ‘ere?”

“Yes, Lady Tanlin, I am.”

“D’ we ‘ave a Main Spar in stores?  Prefer’bly an old ane?”

Master Selked bent his gaze to the wildly swinging lantern nearest him and thought a moment, “There’s a main-yard that was damaged and saved for salvage after our last storm.  That was down in Arrakan waters, Lady.  It has a split and crush damage to the interior structure of the outer port-side quarter.”

“T’at’ll be perfect!” Tanlin enthused.  “Master Calin!  We’ll need all o’ t’e old or worn out cordage in t’e ropewalk t’ rig ‘t. Master Arran!  We just replaced a wind-bagged main sail.  We need t’ get ‘t out an’ furl ‘t t’ t’e spar wit’ t’e old riggin’.  We wont t’ make ‘t look like t’e wind got int’ t’e sail an’ blew ‘t open, breakin’ t’e spar!  We’ll cast ‘t overboard for t’e search t’ find.”

The crew leaped into action, glad of something to do.  The Rope Walk was opened and the spar and sail brought in.  Ropes were sorted and the sail rigged to the yardarm so that it appeared to have lost reefing points and blown open to the force of the storm.  Experts debated over how it came loose and which rigging should be borne with it.  

One of the men who had helped with the Fauline repairs produced a broken chunk of railing.  It had been ripped free when the Fauline was rammed.  Properly secured and sized rigging was attached, including a portion of a mast brace from standing rigging.

When all was ready, it was wrestled to an amidships companionway and the storm hatch opened.  Cold, wind driven rain slashed in, followed by a gush of water as a wave rolled the length of the ship down the deck. The crew, men and women both, wrestled the big decoy out.  Once the wind found it, it became near impossible to manage.  Finally they got it out onto the deck.  They struggled to get it overside before wind and wave could hurl it like a deadly missile at their own rigging. As they watched, the yardarm took some water through the split and the broken end sank, pivoting the arm up like a marker buoy as it floated away from the ship.

Captain Barad gave them the ancient OK sign of circled thumb and forefinger, with the other fingers spread.

Back in the common room of the mess, Tanlin saw to the distribution of rations and a cup of warm drink to everyone involved.

Mister Timms entered along with helmsman Macoul, both shaking the water from their foul-weather gear.  “They won’t let us replace them. They’ve been on watch continuously for near twenty four hours!”

“How are they holding up?” Tanlin asked anxiously.

“They are both alert and strong for now,” said Macoul.  “As long as I was there, Darkistry let me help with the tackle.  She always works it ahead of the storm, better than I can do it.  I gave up and joined Mister Timms in returning.”

Hours later, the tocsin rattled ‘watch change, crew on deck!’  There had been a very perceptible alteration in the nature of the storm. The waves were still rough, though nowhere near the height or power of before.  The wind was dying down from its previous ferocity.  They had made it to the eye of the storm, the so called calm center of the cyclone.  Calm was a relative term.  It was still hard gusty weather and the seas were choppy and heavy, filled with the wrack stirred up by the storm.

Without waiting to be ordered, Lenai Halin began to mount the ratlines to inspect the sails and rigging for storm damage.

“Can I come, too, Mother?” Arnat called.

“Sure, son.  Remember, if I tell you to stop or wait someplace, you do it. The rigging can be tricky while it’s wet like this.”  She looked on with pride as Arnat refused the help of a deck-hand in getting up to the rail.  The ratlines were like a rope ladder going up from the rail to high on the foremast.  Each mast had them.  They were spaced for grown folk, not children, but once Arnat had a grip he climbed quickly and surely  to where his mother was waiting.  They climbed easily, side by side, up to the first lookout.

The jibs were billowed out tight in the breeze ahead of them.  Lenai examined them critically.  “What do you see, Arnat?  Are the sails still sound?”  She waited patiently while Arnat looked as closely as his perch permitted.

“The lead jib mid-seam is showing signs of stretching, mother.”

“You are right about the sail,” she said with a smile.  “Noticed like a true sail-lofter and rigging surveyor.”  She paused and corrected, “Up here, I’m Lenai.  Remember that.”  She gave him a quick hug while automatically catching a line for balance as the ship yawed under them.

“Moth. . .Lenai, there are two reefing points on the mid-jib that are starting to tear out.  If they aren’t fixed, the sail will split in the next storm.”

“Good eyes, Arnat.  That covers the fore-sails used in this storm.  Let’s go on up.  We have to survey the running rigging.  Those head-blocks took almost the whole load of this ship during the blow.”

Ratlines could only take them part way to the head-blocks, just below the masthead.  Clinging casually to the ropes and bracing against the mast, she examined all of the lashings and the condition of the blocks.

“What do you see here, Sharp-eyes?”

Arnat climbed past her and looked everything over carefully.

“These lashings held up well.  That line,” he pointed, “has chafing.” Then he caught what his mother had seen.  “The block wheel has frozen, that’s why the line chafed!”

“I knew that there was a reason I taught you to think!  Good catch!” Lenai wrapped an arm around her son, grabbed an up-haul with her free hand and both legs and slid down to the blocks for the mid-jib. Everything there passed inspection and they slid on down to the deck. Barad was waiting there for their report.  Lenai proudly pushed Arnat forward.  “Make our report, crewman Arnat,” she ordered.

Arnat, a little big-eyed at the trust, honor and responsibility, said, “Captain Barad, Sir, the fore-jib head-block has frozen.  It needs replacement, along with the uphaul.  Both jibs need to be replaced for maintenance.  There is minor stretching in the mid-seam of the fore and some tears starting around two reefing points on the mid.”

A grin split Barad’s face, “Very good, Arnat.  We will get men on it right away.”

Fresh sails were broken out and the slight damage repaired before it could grow to ship damaging or destroying proportions.  All around them the storm clouds could be seen charging in a wide circle, while overhead the sky was a clear blue.

Barad and Darkistry gladly gave up the control of the ship and went below, aiming for food and bunks in that order.  The crew surrounded them with congratulations and pressed hot drinks and food on them until they could never have eaten or drunk it all.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea