Les Mystérieuses Cités d'Or

Sandentwins a écrit : 08 juin 2020, 11:29

Este a écrit : 08 juin 2020, 09:04 J'adore ce chapitre ! Je l'attendais impatiemment !

Lequel ? J'en ai pas posté de nouveau.

Si hier soir !! Et j'adore particulièrement l'image !!!!

C'est pas un chapitre, c'est un extrait du chapitre 9 pour lequel j'ai fait cette illustration: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790 ... s/57454651. Je sais que je l'ai dit en anglais car c'est plus facile pour moi, mais j'ai juste pas d'inspiration en ce moment donc le prochain chapitre arrivera je sais pas quand.

Par contre, si t'as des idées, propose away.

Okay, là c'est un nouveau chapitre. Et si l'histoire n'a pas l'air d'avoir de sens, assure-toi de cliquer sur le lien en fin de post, car ce que je poste ici n'est qu'un aperçu.


Chapter 22: Progress

“...so.”, said Leon after a moment of watching through the window. “We're...currently being guided by a giant golden sea slug.”

“Seems like so.”

“And it's leading us to where again, now?”

“We're somewhere along the coast of China.”, Tina replied, checking on the internal map. “Currently heading southwest.”

“And we've all accepted it?”

“Yep.”

“...huh.”

He walked away from the window, sitting back on his seat.

“I guess it's pretty weird when I say it like that.”

“There's been weirder things happening to us. It's been a hectic week.”

Letting her eyes drift from the road for a moment, she looked up at the slight clouds of noon.

“I wonder how they're doing at home. Maybe they're still looking for us.”

“No ransom or fingers in the mail, they've likely stopped. And assumed we're dead.”

“I bet Celia's suing the museum like a crazy Karen at this point.”

“Hey, she's not a Karen. Give her that at least.”

“Yeah, right. She's more of a Becky.”

“Listen there, psych-oranges. I'm not going down in history as Leon, son of Becky. So you take back what you said about my mom, right now.”

“Alright, alright. She's neither a Karen nor a Becky, she's a whore. Which makes you Leon, son of a whore.”

“Thank you. That's better.”

He took a tone of satisfaction, and noticed Esteban watching them.

“What can I do for you, Esteban, son of the Moon?”, he asked haughtily.

“Do you really speak of your own mother with these words?”

“Bah, we know it's not mean. I like my mom, really.”

“Cause she smothers you in gifts.”

“Can it, psych-oranges.”

“I struggle to understand your way of speaking. What is that about oranges?”

Tina sighed, glancing away.

“Just that my name sounds like a kind of orange. And I hate oranges.”

“Why so? They're a precious fruit.”

She shrugged.

“Today they're very common. You can buy a whole pound of them at the store for a couple bucks. And they're nasty.”

She then glanced at Esteban, who was staring ahead in disbelief. Ah, right.

“A lot of things that were rare in your time are pretty common now. Salt, spices, exotic fruits...can find them very easily at any store.”

“That's because the climate is warming up, so you can grow citrus pretty much anywhere. They've got tons of them in Florida.”

“And industrialization. Fast transportation means you can ship anything from anywhere in a short time. You can keep cold things cold for months on end, and fresh things fresh for...a bit less time, but it's possible to get fresh fruit from the other end of the world before it ripens.”

“Everything's made by machines now, so it's fast and cheap.”

“And let's not forget synthetic products. My shirt's purple, but it cost next to nothing to dye, because it's all man-made products.”

“And then there's-”
[...]

Read the rest over at https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790 ... s/59494681

J'aime un peu moins ce chapitre mais il est quand même excellent.

La vie, parfois, c'est pas toujours de l'aventure et du danger. C'est aussi des moments plus calmes et posés.

Et c'est aussi moi qui en profite pour inter-connecter mes fics parce que je suis la princesse Rana'Pétay et je fais qu'est-ce que c'est que j'veux. Tfacons personne lira, donc autant m'amuser un peu.

Après, je peux toujours essayer de satisfaire le public d'ici. Mais faudrait que tu prennes le temps de dire ce que t'as aimé ou pas, ce qui t'interloque ou te confond, ce que t'aimerais voir pour la suite. Développer, c'est pratique.

Sandentwins a écrit : 10 juin 2020, 20:06 Je suis la princesse Rana'Pétay.

Une cousine de la princesse Rana'Ori qui, elle-même, avait un frère. Il s'appelait Giovanni. Giovanni Rana, le prince des tortellini.

Chapter 23: Duet

Leon sighed, drawing his eyes way from the ocean. Nothing from this side either. This journey was bound to be rather boring, if all he was good for was waiting around for someone else to take him where he needed to be.

Casually, he picked up some leaves from a plant and started weaving them together. The wind was warm and salty, making grass rustle on this little mossy rock off the coast of Vietnam, where they've stopped for the time being. The sun would be setting down soon, and he was starting to be hungry, but for now he needed most of all to have a walk. Hours on end in this crummy Condor never helped anything.

There were some people in the distance, likely tourists going home. If they spoke any English, maybe he could hit up a chat, but he didn't know how to proceed. So he just ignored that potential relief from his solitude, and sat down to contemplate the sea below, like a sight that'd hold true no matter what part of the world he was in. He picked up a pebble and let it fall down, where it landed in the water in a muted splash he didn't even hear.

“At least she's having fun.”, he sighed.

For a couple hours now, Tina's left his company to resume traveling with the Thallios and its ghost, and learn some more about that ancient language she claimed to read now. Well, someone had to stay behind and keep an eye on the Condor, so it'd be him. He wasn't a great pilot just yet, but Esteban had most of it under control, so his intervention wasn't very needed. And so, the trip resumed in a boring road trip mood, one that he was starting to grow tired of.

Waiting. Waiting, traveling, pestering the Condor's dusty speed and inefficient flight, all for the sake of helping it. And then, who'd help them, huh? Maybe Tina found it nice, but he thought otherwise. What was in it for him? He already had superpowers, he already knew who he was. He could shear away an entire mountain with his thoughts alone if he desired so, for he was the unstoppable lion prince! No need for him to go on a life-changing journey. Those were overdone, anyway.

No sight of anything in the sky either. What were they even waiting for? He wasn't sure he's got it, or maybe he just hadn't listened. Or maybe he didn't care. Everything was starting to look bland and same to him. He was too bored to care, he hadn't slept properly in a good while and he'd give anything for a warm meal. Ugh, the life of a Chosen One sure sucked.

“Hey, Esteban, think you can warm up some nuts for us?”, he asked.

But the ghost didn't answer. He was perched on the unseen Condor's head, staring at the sky. Leon called again, louder, but nothing came of it. Psht, what a loser! He turned around and started walking down a path, not liking feeling ignored.

“I swear. That guy's too weird for me.”

Honestly, he's seen weirder. This could be from one of his dreams, or one of his pattern visions. If Esteban had a pattern himself, it was a convoluted one, one he couldn't read easily. Usually, everything made sense, but this guy escaped the notion of “sense” altogether. And it was infuriating.

There was no one around on this part of the coast. Only dirty sand, rocks and some plants. He hesitated for a moment, glancing around, before letting the beast out and going down on all fours. He could feel his tail growing in, his fur breaking out of his clothes, his face turning into a dangerous beast's snout. His senses growing sharper, or at least the illusion of it. But he didn't care, for it was what he wanted. What he could do.

Even though nothing had changed, it still felt different. Everything felt different, like he was in a dream. He walked closer to the water, nudged it with his “paw”, felt the wetness on his palm and the saltiness on his tongue, and the rest quickly took over. Without knowing why, he flopped down on his side, letting the sand itch at him and the water lap at his arm, knowing fully well he'd get wet and dirty like a kid in a mudfight. But he didn't care. Did anyone care about him? No one ever did. It was all an illusion, so in this world, only illusions could be real. And he'd prove it.

“Hey there. You, uh...you're here?”

He watched the sea for a response.
[…]

Read the rest over at https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790 ... s/59596201

Le doodledump de fin de fic a l'air un peu gros, quand je revois tous mes fanarts, donc je mets celui-là ici parce qu'il est moins relevant.

Et aussi parce que ce fut l'occasion d'un mini-crossover avec l'autre version du Thallios comme imaginée par Agent du Discord dans sa fanfic:

[ Image Externe ]
[ Image Externe ]
(cuteness overload. )


Pour ce qui est du prochain chapitre, ça dépendra des examens.

Chapter 24: Plans

Esteban couldn't sleep.

Not when it was made clear that he wasn't needed for this journey. Not when it dawned on him that he'd only slow them down. Not when everything was slowly conspiring to stack against him, and turn everything into an endless battle.

Not when his mind ached from knowing just how useless he was.

It's got to have come sooner or later, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt at all. To be supplanted just like that, by a crew of newbies nonetheless! His pride felt deeply wounded, perhaps in the same way his skull had once been. He had no heart anymore, but all of this felt like a stab in the chest, that very much compared in pain to his own head breaking upon impact. It still replayed in a corner of his head, like an intrusive thought he couldn't shake off. Whenever he'd as much think of it, it'd wash over him like a lightning strike, and a phantom pain would sneak up on him right where the bones chipped away. They were long gone, buried, dissolved to dust, but that feeling remained. Eternal, unshakeable, horrible.

“You're thinking back on it again.”

He sighed. Of course, Killa was up. He made nothing of it for now, and resumed staring at nothing like a cat about to die.

“Esteban. Stop thinking of it.”

If he still had a throat, he would have grunted.

“I can't exactly stop my own thoughts.”

“But you can let them eat you away. What is it that disturbs you?”

He drew his thoughts away.

“Nothing. I'm fine.”

He let his light form appear on the Condor's beak. Night had fallen a couple hours ago, and yet he was still here, still filled with leftover energy granted by the Thallios. At least she could move around freely, since her vessel got its energy from saltwater. It must be great to never feel the need to sleep.

“You know it's not the same.”, Killa continued. “We cannot run our body endlessly. We need rest.”

Did he let his thoughts slip away? He tried to shut off his mind, to raise the defenses he's learned how to use whenever his mother would try to talk about it. To think of nothing, to just void his thoughts; but once again, these intrusive memories sneaked their way into his brain to mess with him. It was impossible to get a clear mind anywhen, for some malicious genie had made it their purpose to disturb him as much as possible with those memories he simply wanted to seal away forever. What purpose did they serve, besides making him disgusted with himself?

“I don't need rest.”, he breathed out, trying to clear his nonexistent lungs from their corrupted breath. “I don't need anything.”

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, as if his very breath was dirtying whatever it touched, making him feel wrong and tainted. He needed to drive it out of him somehow, to make it stop, but he knew there was nothing to be done. That pain would stay forever, for thousands of years if it felt like it.

“Don't lie to me.”, she continued. “It's obvious that you're tired.”

“If I were tired, I'd be sleeping right now. And I'm not sleeping, so I'm not tired.”

“A fallacious reasoning.”

She sat by him, and he let it happen. He loved her company, of course, but there were times where it felt overbearing. Maybe that was the effect of always being bound together.

“I'm fine.”, he insisted again. “I have never been finer. In any of my lives I've never felt finer!”

She sighed, but in an endeared manner.

“Your lies are as bad as your father's. I see right through you.”

“And I'd rather you didn't.”

“I mean, we are a little see-through.”

There was nothing funny to it. How could she take it so light-heartedly? Wasn't it a big deal? They were dead, for Coyolite's sake! Would anyone ever notice it!?

Did his death mean anything at all to his friends?
[…]

Read the rest at https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790 ... s/59694184


Comment ça, je projette sur Esteban. C'est pas vrai wesh.

Chapter 25: Call

Leon's little whistle echoed through the City as he climbed up the last steps to the tallest temple. Phew, that wasn't a joyride; he's lost the habit of walking, with all this time spent flying. Perhaps he should stop whistling and ease his lungs, but everything was so silent around here, it was jarring. He wasn't sure he liked it, maybe not. Was he supposed to like it? Eh.

Once he reached the top flight, he sat down and let himself breathe out some relief. Whew...hey, wasn't that bad a view. Wished his phone had a camera, so he'd be able to snap a selfie or two. Perhaps it was for the best; some things weren't meant to be revealed. This place wasn't a tourist location, it was a sacred temple. No one could ever desecrate it, that's why he had to keep it secret.

“Walking on your footsteps sure is hard.”, he joked.

As if to answer him, a noise sounded out right behind him. He turned around, and saw that the closed door he's been faced with now showed a big shiny light. He stood up, and the silhouette mirrored him, like a shadow.

“Oh hey, it's my evil twin again.”

Before he could touch to it, however, the white shadow twin disappeared up the wall, which split in half a second later. The door had just opened, giving way to a dark room.

“Oh boy. My gamer's training tells me that this is where the final boss hides.”

He raised his fists, and entered in after taking a mental pause to “save” his “game”. That likely wouldn't do anything, but it was nice to take a breather.

A ceiling opening revealed seven panes of metal floating around in the middle of the room. Any moment now, they'd come to life and reveal themselves to be some dangerous robot or evil construct, and he'd have to defeat it. Let's see...what weapons did he have? His medallion, his old flip phone, a half-eaten cereal bar and the piece of Olmec glass. He held it up like a knife, or perhaps a ray gun, as he made his way to the center. His footsteps echoed in the metal room as he slowly progressed, waiting for any sign of his foe. Any minute now.

The room trembled, and he turned around like a scaredy cat. The door had just closed! Okay, so far so normal. A rumble sounded out above him, and he saw that the ceiling was closing off, leaving him in complete darkness. He shook the piece of glass until it shed some blueish light around, just enough to see.

“Alright. Time to show yourself, evil boss!”

That'd be a piece of cake. He closed his eyes and let the beast out, and- huh? He tried again, tried to picture his claws sharpening and his tail bursting out, but nothing happened. Not in the same way that nothing had ever happened before, but- for some reason, even more nothing happened this time. As if something was blocking his thoughts, stopping his power-up before he could complete it. What was going on!? What was this magic?! He didn't like this at all!

The humming resumed, and the panes of metal started glowing. Disarmed, Leon held up the piece of glass as his only weapon, stepping away from the future final boss. They were all shining a different color, bearing those weird-ass symbols he had no clue as to their meaning. One by one, they then revealed a picture, as portraits spawned on each of them. Weird old people in robes.

“Fuck. I have to fight the council of elders, now!”

He tried again and again to trigger the lion prince, but his mind felt frozen. He couldn't picture it, he couldn't make the transformation last. That's never happened before! Were these crones blocking his powers!? Wait, does that mean he had powers to begin with? He stepped back again, fearing the worst, and that's exactly when it happened.
[…]

Read the rest at https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790 ... s/59751379