#which is INSANELY broad but i feel like if i rank the art direction it works. at least one person has already done a video game presentatio

[blueskittlesart]

guys be honest is it insane to make a presentation ranking zelda games for a real life college class

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Tongues of Fire- Empire Week Parade Scene

I assure all of you that I am working most diligently on the Magnificent Scoundrels stories.  Currently, I have two just about finished.  However, I feel bad about not posting anything for a while, so I will give you this.  It is the intro scene of Thomas Drake’s galaxy.  I hope you like it.  If you have any requests for stories, please feel free to ask.  

“One of the strongest natural proofs of the folly of hereditary right in kings, is, that nature disapproves it, otherwise, she would not so frequently turn it into ridicule by giving mankind an ass for a lion.” -Thomas Paine, Common Sense

Vorketh, Capital of the Empire of Prosium

It was Empire Week.  A celebration of all the achievements of the Empire of Prosium; technology, art, architecture, culture, and, definitely the most important to any proud Imperial citizen: military.  It was day one of the celebration, and today, on the broad streets of Vorketh Prime, the capital city of the capital world, the Empire of Prosium gave a military parade for all to see.  People and aliens from throughout the galaxy came to see the main parade of Empire Week.  Quite simply, there was nothing else like it in the known universe.  The entire Imperial Ninth Army would march through the streets, in a massive display of strength that no one else in the galaxy could even hope to match.  Fighters and gunship transports would buzz overhead in perfect formation, while massive ships of the line, this year led by the dreadnought Executioner, could be seen in low orbit above the planet.  The Emperor himself would be present at the ceremonies, as would every single monarch of the various solar systems of the Empire, including King Alderic of the Zerith System.  

Alderic looked across the raised platform along the parade grounds to where the parade would start, the Citadel of Vorkerth.  The sky was a grey color, lit well enough that people could easily see, and quite common on Vorketh, unlike the rich blue sky of Earth, the original homeworld of the human race.  The white stone architecture of the capital streets stood out against the jet black of the world’s massive planetary defense cannons.  He looked around.  There were a great many Federation humans here, enough to outnumber even the other various species the Empire controlled.  Odd, but it mattered little.  There were always a lot of them here.  He sighed to himself.  The Federation.  So argumentative.  So much...lack or purpose.  Everyone within the Empire of Prosium knew what they wanted to become, and if they didn;t, they served in the military.  Although, he himself never wanted to be King of the Zerith System, oddly enough.  But sometimes, circumstances were out of the control of individuals.  

He was generally thought as a handsome man, and many thought he looked like a more rugged version of the Emperor.  He was wearing his full kingly regalia, complete with cloak, crown, and sword.  His various medals hung on his chest, pinned on what the Empire called a tunshi, or a cross between a tunic and a shirt.  Black pants with a gold stripe running vertically down the leg covered his legs, and black dress boots that ran up to the knee protected his calves.  Next to him stood two of his closest friends.  Queen Naatz wore almost the exact same thing as he did, the only difference being she had several different medals than he did, and the crown from the system she ruled had slight variations in the design.  King Wachek had the same base design, but, fitting his personality, it was much more flamboyant.  Everything was styled and hugged his slim form perfectly, and a shorter crown than Alderic or Naatz covered his slicked back blond hair.  At his side was a thin rapier, unlike the heavy medieval-style Imperial Guard swords carried by Alderic or Naatz.  Each of the three monarchs ruled a somewhat mediocre system, not extremely important to the Empire, but not some backwater hovel, either.  This was what originally had brought the three together.  They were no one extremely important within the Council of Monarchs, but they still held some sway.  They were all savvy enough to realize that by banding together, they could get a lot more done than they ever could separate.  That political alliance had, eventually, turned into a fast friendship.  

Wacheck walked over to where Alderic and Naatz stood, carrying a glass of champagne.  He brandished it like it was some long lost priceless work of art.

“Look at this!  French champagne from Earth.  One of the Federation ambassadors brought an entire cargo crate of it for the festivities.  I must say, I think I like it better than any of the stuff we make.”  He took a sip.  “Of course, they’ve had more practice making it.”  He turned a wry smile towards a group of Federation ambassadors, who were talking with the group of high officials clustered around the Emperor.  The entire pavilion was packed with officials from every major government and race in the galaxy, including every human one.  The Federation ambassadors were being, as per their nature, extremely sauve, lavishing compliments upon all of the high Imperial officials.   The Guild officials were, as per their nature, trying to smooth talk several Imperial generals into buying Guild products and weaponry.  And, of course, the Union ambassadors were glowering in the corner.  Several Imperial officials were smirking in their direction.  Typical Union of Equality.  All bark, no bite.  In contrast, the Empire was all bite, no bark.  

What appeared to be a Dracus general approached Alderic’s group.  The Dracus were a warrior race, and had what most humans thought to be the body and legs of a kangaroo sitting on its haunches with the head of a lizard.  They were bipedal, and while they weren’t close allies with the Empire, they respected the Prosium for their martial traditions.  This one was wearing red ceremonial armor, which made it of very high rank.  Alderic couldn’t tell the difference between the male and female of the species, so generally he just asked Dracus their names and used that.  

“Magnificent parade,” he said, in the growly, guttural voice of the Dracus.  Alderic turned to him, or, at least, he thought it was a him, and smiled, careful not to show his teeth.

“Why, that you, General…”

“Itchernicer, King..”

“Alderic.  King Alderic.”  Itchernicer bowed and gave the traditional Dracus hand gesture greeting, moving his fingers to his lips, then his forehead.  He looked like he was about to say something else, but then the loudspeaker cut in.

“Ladies, gentlemen, species from all over the galaxy, the parade is about to begin.  If you or your species has sensitive hearing, you should wear protection.  Enjoy the parade!” With a flourish, the Emperor, flanked by four members of the Imperial Guard, entered the balcony.  The Emperor waved to the crowd, who let out a massive, roaring cheer.  Commander Robert Rorrenbrand, leader of the Guard, was several steps behind the Emperor with two more Imperial Guardsmen.  He was average height, with a rounded, scarred face and short cut black hair.  He was also, Alderic knew, despite his unimpressive looks, quite simply the best soldier in the galaxy.  Some might think these security measures harsh, unreasonable, but those people were not from the Empire of Prosium.  As any loyal citizen will tell you, the Empire never messes around when security is concerned.   

Itchernicer, Alderic, Naatz, and Watchek turned towards the Citadel.  The massive monument, built of white marble, towered over the wide streets.  White marble steps cascaded from the front of the building, lit by the fires of massive braziers.  Massive statues of Imperial Heros, some twenty feet high, towered above the streets.  Every culture had heroes.  Some thought that heroes were people who came up with new technologies, or those who were pious and strove to help others.  Not Prosium.  While all of those were traits and qualities to be admired, the people of Prosium believed that the only way to tell a true hero from all the rest was to forge them on the battlefield.  Only where shot and shell screamed, where man and alien alike died choking on their own blood and crying in agony, could a true hero come forth.  True heroes were those who fought and often died for the Empire.  True heros were not some scheming politician or sniveling scientist who strove to convince everyone that they and they alone were right; true heroes were the ordinary men, women, and aliens who performed insane feats of bravery in places that shred normal people’s sanity.  True heroes were like Private Stebban Wyric, who fought to the last bullet of his handgun to give the battered remnants of his regiment time to fall back from an overwhelming counterattack.  True heroes were the members of the Imperial 414th Army Regiment who fought to the last man and the last round to protect their standard.  True heroes were like Governor Isin Habbic, who volunteered to ram a cargo ship into a terrorist vessel holding a thermonuclear bomb to save his people and planet.  True heros were like Mary Strolheim, who called in an orbital bombardment on her position to repel an overwhelming enemy force and eventually win the War of Kraken’s Nest.  True heros were the selfless who laid down their lives for their people, and they all had one thing in common.  The exceptionally brave were awarded the medal and title Hero of the Empire, and, if they still lived after their feat, everyone, from the lowest factory worker to the Emperor or Empress themselves would salute them.  And, every single Hero of the Empire had their name, image, and deed emblazoned into the stone walls of the Citadel’s Hall of Heroes, an entire section within the Citadel of Vorketh that was dedicated to the preservation of their legacy and guarded day and night by the elite soldiers of the the Emperor’s personal bodyguard.  Just as the children of the Federation knew the names of human history’s greatest scientists and leaders, and the children of the United Guild of Merchants knew the names of all the great company leaders, and the children of the Union of Equality knew the names of all of Communism’s great heroes and leaders, so too did the children of the Empire of Prosium know the names of most of the Heroes of the Empire.   And it was from the glorious Citadel that housed the Hall of Heroes that the parade began.  

Legions of black uniformed warriors, the dauntless men and women of the Imperial Army’s 9th Army, 56th Regiment, weapons held at the ready, marched in perfect lock-step down the steps of the Citadel.  Massive crimson flags, adorned with the black eagle of Prosium, snaked their way down the buildings bordering the parade ground.  Alderic took in a deep breath of Vorketh’s sweet air.  He was glad to be a part of the Empire.  The sweetness of the air was suddenly snached away, to be replaced by the ozone smell of plasma jets, as a squadron of Naval fighters screamed overhead at a quite frankly alarmingly low altitude.  The crowd cared not, though.  They cheered all the louder at the jets’ arrival.  

The soldiers reached the base of the Citadel, and started to march through the streets themselves.  Loudspeakers placed upon the parade route struck up a military march as the infantry was joined by ranks of vehicles.  Black and grey tanks, armoured carries, and mobile missile launchers drove expertly through the throngs of soldiers, their hatches opened and each commander giving their salute to the Emperor’s box.  Alderic looked around, taking in the entire parade, looking through the clear grey sky at the forms of massive capital ships hoving in low atmosphere.  It was, indeed, a fine day to be a citizen of the Empire of Prosium.