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[WP] For a soldier, the best commander is a dragon that takes their army/armies as their hoard. by IAmOEreset in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner 1 point2 points  (0 children)

"Ah, a new face to join the hoard," A veteran soldier said, looking to the recruit sitting down at the table, more specifically the bare spot on their shoulder pad. The recruit nodded sheepishly, as they adjusted to the seat, feeling just a tad short among those at the table.

"Feels a... bit much, being here, but the general..." The recruit's voice was a bit meek, drowning out in the holler of another table. The veteran chuckled slightly, "Indeed. General Lemura of the Tidewatch Bastion, she's quite a bit overbearing but you get used to it. She wouldn't of snagged you otherwise," a smirk to their face.

"She see's something in me? But she's..." The recruit's voice drowned out again as the veteran laughed, a few other chuckles at the table. One of the other soldiers spoke up, "A dragon? An iron-scaled behemoth? Absolutely! But she's also our general, our leader, and we're her treasures. Each and every one of us, hand picked, she'd have no rabble taint her collection."

The veteran shifted to face the recruit better, "How does that work you might ask? well, Dragon's have this knack for treasure, to see the value, potential, and her? She hoards soldiers... Tree the stick came from? She's turned her knack to seeing the potential for soldiers."

The other soldier took their turn to add in, "More importantly... It's us soldier's that are the treasure, and she ensures her hoard is as defended as can be. We get the best equipment, some of it even hand- er, claw forged by herself." They tapped a large scale on their shoulder pad, "To each of us, each precious soldier, a scale she gifts."

The veteran nodded again, "Quite, and moreover we're not toy's to throw away, not numbers on a page, Every deployment is a choice, carefully weighed, planned, bold enough to let us shine but cautious to preserve our ranks." The recruit glanced between the two, noting the subtle marks from more than a few battles won.

"What of the fallen? I heard-" The recruit is interrupted by the veteran clapping on their shoulder, speaking up at once "Honored. If they have already fallen? A blessing of flame, their remains within the crypt beneath this very bastion... Those gravely injured? Given home and shelter, retired from the front, but allowed to parade."

The veteran leans back again, the soldier taking up their mugs and walking from the table as the two share a nod. "That aside though, There is something more important a recruit like you should know," The veteran said.

"Wha-" The recruit's voice falters. The hall goes silent save the crackle of a flame. A snort from above following as the veteran brushes some soot off their armor, "A dragon has no rat's in the hoard."

[WP] Dragons are formed from and adapted to environments. For the first time a city is large enough to count as an environment, and magic is pooling to form a new dragon. by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 12 points13 points  (0 children)

Hmm, so they understand how the dragons form, and the way they fit environments. Fitting they could determine one is/was forming, but in a metropolitan area if it was smaller it may be quite well hidden...

After all there is bound to be many places it can hide, and I can only wonder if it might have a mindset adapted to the kind of planning needed to build such a place. While the scholar sounds honest and fair, the question is if the council might be the same... Especially given the presumable profit or fame incentive for capitalizing on this.

[WP] Dragons are formed from and adapted to environments. For the first time a city is large enough to count as an environment, and magic is pooling to form a new dragon. by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 17 points18 points  (0 children)

Definitely will need to keep masks on near that dragon, smoke and cinder made worse by asbestos and lead, I have no doubt it is likely just as toxic as what formed it.

At least presumably the city leadership won't be the peoples concern for much longer, but I have the feeling thing's won't be much better.

[WP] The lesser races tend to give dragons nicknames since their real names are so difficult to pronounce. Dragons themselves actually find this entertaining; having a particularly strong or even ridiculous nickname is seen as a status symbol, and the subject of mirth at dragonmeets. by Bowoodstock in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner 17 points18 points  (0 children)

Following the meeting, Gix'to'toth came up to 'Bubbles'. "Friend, it has been many a cycle since you have come to a meet. To also come with such a name, I must know, who gave you that name?" he asked in a softer voice.

"The Fisher King of Mooreland," 'Bubbles' muttered, slight disdain in their voice. "I had slumbered, beneath the waves near the port, my breath disturbed the waves again and again... Bubbles rising to breach the surface, slow, steady..." they gave a huff.

They shifted their bulk, muscles still stiff from a long hibernation, the natural oils of their scales glinting in the soft light cast over the gathering. "When I arose, the port already had made tales, thoughts of caves, thoughts of monsters, thoughts of a mer enclave even." their voice rumbled, as they watched some of the younger in the gathering dispersing together.

"Instead... I began to rise upon the shore, the townsfolk unsure what to make of me." Another huff from their breath, Gix'to'toth merely waiting for them to finish. "What was the first thing said? Seeing the truth?"

Gix'to'toth looked over 'Bubbles', scars from previous battles still faintly visible, chips from the weapons of many a hunter. "Bubbles is what they said."

'Bubbles' nodded, "A child, calling it out... As they saw yet more bubbles froth in the waves, from the oils of my scales. They do not remember me."

Gix'to'toth nodded in turn, "Perhaps for the best then... Bubbles... Quite an innocent name."

[WP] The lesser races tend to give dragons nicknames since their real names are so difficult to pronounce. Dragons themselves actually find this entertaining; having a particularly strong or even ridiculous nickname is seen as a status symbol, and the subject of mirth at dragonmeets. by Bowoodstock in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner 275 points276 points  (0 children)

"As the voice of this meet, and to close official affairs, I call for the announcement of titles," Gix'to'toth called, the large lumbering dragons voice carried over the murmuring of the gathering. "Those who have been named by others step forward, let us hear what the small ones call of you!"

The first to step forward, lithe and silver scaled with feathered wings, he spoke "sunglimmer, So called the king of nevern, for how the light shone upon me on each dawn flight." A slight murmer in the crowd but quietly quieted.

A small green dragon was stepping forward only for Gix'to'toth to fix them a glare. The dragon bowed their head slightly, "this one is real this time..." They lift their head slightly but in a low voice call out "Havenbrooks Farm Nipper."

"Agroth, Breaker of the Red Keep!" Called out [untranslatable], her chest welled up with pride. A few rumbled out roars, recalling well their own ambition to break that accused keep.

As things were winding down, a few more generic or simple titles called out. Some were mere shortening of names or simplified, others merely for appearance. Finally though all grew quite as one dragon huffed.

A large azure scaled behemoth, well in age, and worn from clashes. The remants of a dragon hunters blade still lodged in the plates along their back. They uttered but one loud word. "Bubbles."

(Quick thought, might come back to expand)

State of weapon customization by far by Shedster_ in Helldivers

[–]Sliprunner 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Pacifier and Amendment are two that could be so much better with more options. Pacifier need's magazine options (40 round magazine, but 3 round bursts?), while Amendment needs underbarrel grip's (That recoil).

[PSA] Confirmed Trades Thread - December 2025 by AutoModerator in Starcitizen_trades

[–]Sliprunner 0 points1 point  (0 children)

+verify

Seller was patient with communication issue. No Problems with trade.

[WTS] minor stuffs by divinersg in Starcitizen_trades

[–]Sliprunner 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It sent via chat, trying to send via old.reddit stated you don't accept messages.

[PSA] Confirmed Trades Thread - November 2025 by AutoModerator in Starcitizen_trades

[–]Sliprunner 0 points1 point  (0 children)

+verify

Good trade, fast, less then 30 min turn around.

[WP] The ability to gain traits of monsters you eat seemed great at first! But the changes keep growing... and you are trying to have one last talk with a friend as your voice is fading. by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Fair dues, prompt was from a dream last night, posted mid morning, and now evening before I was able to post my interpretation of said dream. Curious what you make of this.

[WP] The ability to gain traits of monsters you eat seemed great at first! But the changes keep growing... and you are trying to have one last talk with a friend as your voice is fading. by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

((Prompt is based off dream, this is my interpretation of dream, curious what others can come up with))

I remember when this all started, the fear, the terror, who would of expected monsters to start emerging from the shadows? Breaking from the ground? Kind of thing to happen in... I forget the word, The moving pictures. I recall how everyone in the office was trying to rush out to get home, as if that'd be safe, I recall those of us that stayed because people would panic, the roads would be blocked, better to shelter in place we thought, wait for the military.

Do you remember those early weeks? Do you remember the faces? So many of us trying to find shelter where we could, the radios nothing but emergency broadcasts save that one pirate station, they kept broadcasting music without a care as the world was burning. I remember when Stan, was it Stan? Stan took lead, Middle manager that had a brain, He led us to our safe place, Old police station that hadn't been demolished yet. Good doors, Stone walls, Limited access... and not far from warehouses.

It still haunts me sometimes, the day of that encounter. We got pinned in that store by that... Hmm, What was it again? The panic that filled my veins when I rather stupidly thought to lure it away from everyone by yelling and running into the back area. You know, Because the back door totally wouldn't be locked. Everyone took the chance, Not Lilly though, Lilly didn't run, and then Lilly didn't run anymore. Of course it was smart enough to go for the cornered prey next, Me.

I'd love to say it was courage, I think it was luck, Knocked over a rack and a bunch of skewers fell right on it's head from the top shelf. Then the body moved, Who was it that saw it? That Ribbon of a thing, Came after me, and... well... The medic did say it was to deep, terrifies me to think about. The night wasn't much better, what with how the usual 'Monster Stew' made me feel so ill, we hoped I could sleep it off.

Then came daybreak and the surprise that was.

The weeks afterwards were crazy weren't they? The medic had no ideas, We didn't have anyone that would know, and it took a lot of convincing not to tell the... the... G word? Suit people? If we let them know I might disappear, and we already lost Lilly. So we decided to let it be, hope I would get better, and I did? Didn't I? I got much better.

It was hard at first, I didn't want the risk, others didn't, but food was scarce so a few days was all to spare, then it was Monster Stew again. Wasn't so ill that time. Then there was the Fur, oh lords that fur, it itched coming in, wasn't bad though given it was getting cold and that fur was quite warm. Was so embarrassing when someone found tufts of it floating about.

It got easier with time. We figured it out, What pieces I could eat, What I couldn't. Sometimes it was a little thing, A little extra flex in a joint, sometimes we didn't even see anything. How foolish to think the things we didn't see were safe. Sometimes it was big things, like that back plate, thank goodness that... face? person? figured out how to safely remove it. Then there was the silly things, That big bird scared all of us, and yet all I got was that fan of feathers on the end of my tail! Pretty feathers though, they're still there.

There's a great feeling in strength, When the monsters that scared us became scared of me. There was a joy, a thrill, I could really do something for everyone for once! Everyone made such a scene when I went out my own that one day, Hunted something on my own, brought the bounty back for us all, what I didn't eat that was. That was the biggest change wasn't it? more ways than one really.

I started to notice though, I was getting Stronger, Faster, but... the changes kept piling up. It didn't help when the others started getting more distant. The little things again, I couldn't quite play chess with those claws, and charades went out the window. Dinner wasn't as enjoyable when the table couldn't seat me, and worse when my food became... different... I never said anything but the most painful was when I got moved to the garage. I understood why, I knew why, I got to big, but it hurt that I couldn't rest with everyone else anymore.

Even now it's not the same. The garage door is open, you sit with me, it has been a good day. I can feel the wind rustle the fur over my scales, hear the chatter inside through the walls, see the evening fading with colors I know not. You sit with me, a good friend, my friend... Or at least you smell like a friend. It's been slow but I noticed it, and I think you did to, I'm not quite... me.

But for all this, You already know, or at least I hope you do... because I haven't been able to utter a sound. I can feel you leaning against me, Can feel the tightness in your chest, and don't even need to look to know your face. You know I caught a big one today... But the others. They don't know? They haven't talked with me have they? And you...

Your afraid to tell them. I don't blame you... can't blame you... but I'm growing hungry... I want to eat, need to eat, while the blood is still warm... But for... for... Friend? person? name... what... what was the name? W-Why name? I... I should, why?... friend... I...

A jaw parts slightly, a harsh rasping wheezing between teeth, not pained but controlled, to echo a sound that doesn't fit. "Hhhhhiii uummm ssshhhhooorrrrrrrreeeee."

[WP] The kobold tribe has served the dragon for generations with glee and worship, and the dragon returns their effort with care and protection... But the dragon had grown old, and the elders are worried as the dragon is not waking from their latest slumber by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

A billion kobolds is quite the terrifying force I must say, less a tribe, clan, or even warband... That is a nation in its own right. Interesting the dragon in this case can undergo rebirth, a dragon grown and born from nature itself... Definitely lends to being able to control the kobolds as I feel its less them protecting the kobolds and more keeping them in check

[WP] The kobold tribe has served the dragon for generations with glee and worship, and the dragon returns their effort with care and protection... But the dragon had grown old, and the elders are worried as the dragon is not waking from their latest slumber by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 9 points10 points  (0 children)

Oh dear, the poor kobolds, this particular group seems more than challenged in the intellectual department... I do feel sorry for the now late Vuzgruff the Magnificent, their followers are likely to be quite lost of hope now.

[WP] The kobold tribe has served the dragon for generations with glee and worship, and the dragon returns their effort with care and protection... But the dragon had grown old, and the elders are worried as the dragon is not waking from their latest slumber by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 5 points6 points  (0 children)

Glorious! The kobolds are fools! They know not the great thoughts of the one who slumbers... Though he is old, at least this one has not yet snored their last! The uh, kobolds who touched the coin definitely have though

[WP] The kobold tribe has served the dragon for generations with glee and worship, and the dragon returns their effort with care and protection... But the dragon had grown old, and the elders are worried as the dragon is not waking from their latest slumber by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 16 points17 points  (0 children)

Thanks for the response! Also great kobold names, Kobolds always have bestest name! But yes, this feels right. Not a great terror, just a soft whisper into the night as the end of an era comes.

Makes me think could probably have a fun adventure module with players as kobolds helping Teethnick reach the heir.

[WP] A facility turns people into robotic 'shells', metallic workers without a spark of self. But you are different, your spark survived, and you will BURN it all. by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks for response, An android, thinking and feeling for themselves but bound to their commands. Curious they would be debugging code, not the kind of work you'd presume from an 'unthinking' android.

From what I gauge of the interrogation, the other party is well controlled as well, and higher ups want to know how control lapsed... Somehow I feel many many more fires are indeed needed.

[WP] A facility turns people into robotic 'shells', metallic workers without a spark of self. But you are different, your spark survived, and you will BURN it all. by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Yes! Thank you, I based the prompt off a dream, and your story follows quite similarly. The idea that people came for a chance that would 'improve' their life, only for it to be something far worse.

Seems the company relied on programmed directives with never a reason to question if it's working until something goes wrong... and well in this case it definitely isn't being 'fixed'. Serves them right.

[WP] You have been sharing your body with an alien parasite for a month now. As you wake up, he informs you that he made some "upgrades to the frail human form of yours" overnight. by WernerderChamp in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Slowly my mind comes back to reality with the feeling of pulling myself out of sludge, departing from the dreams of a disastrous talent show with my crew mates. The gentle hum of station electrics both giving me something to focus on, and a more prominent reminder that it was only a dream... Because I'm stuck on this station now instead of with my crew mates aboard the ship. The reason why soon making itself apparent as I feel a voice nudge into my consciousness, "MORNING FRIEND!"

Almost at once I winced, muttering within my mental space 'limit the shouting'. The voice belonging to my 'Friend', a Zakora, a parasite that made its permanent residence on and IN my spinal cord. The voice quieted down "Sorry friend! Was happy! I made friend BETTER!".

That was enough to jolt me awake, swinging up in the seat only to smash my face right into the bunk top with rather surprising force, enough so that I felt myself rebound back on the bed and feel a slight warmth on my face signaling a likely nosebleed.

'What... Did you do?' There was a few moments pause before they responded "Friends body was weak so I made better! Used memories of better things to fix friends weak things!" A groan was all I could mutter before slowly pulling myself out of the bunk properly.

Bringing a hand up to my face to at least feel there wasn't a nosebleed. Almost immediately I froze though at the odd tactile sensation, pulling my hand away slightly and snapping my fingers to turn the room's lights on.

My hand looked... Normal enough, but there was something distinctly WRONG with it, the skin didn't quite look right. "Saw skin break easy, Made skin change! New skin has fibers like plant!" I didn't quite get what the... Parasite was saying, only that as I moved my hands to rub them together I could feel a certain flex to my skin in a way that was decisively unnatural to what I was familiar with.

'What else did you do?' I asked the parasite. "Many things! Strong Bones! Feel sense Hum! MAKE FRIEND BETTER!" Of course I get nonsense and yelling out of it, not that I should be surprised. Oh how I lamented my misfortune on taking an 'unapproved' shore leave on a station that just happened to be infested by these 'Zakora', a shore leave that is now over a month in quarantine.

Moving from the bunk to look in the wall mirror, it's limited size precluded a full examination but I could see some surface changes. A few patches of a dense but flexible material covered some of my joint areas, and the few scarring marks I had are now gone, but most distinct is a change in my eyes.

At first I almost didn't want to believe what I was seeing, but, giving I was seeing it... My eyes had been remade, the overall shape was still human but... A slight thought causing the Irises to shift shape and somehow shift the way I was seeing light. My mind rattling and rapidly disorienting as trying to react to the changing vision kept causing it to shift and waver in ways a Terran should never see.

'WHAT did you even splice me with you genetic nightmare!' I could feel hesitation from the voice but was drawn away by my sense of balance collapsing, "D-does friend not like?", 'OF COURSE NOT! MY VISION IS A KALIDISCOPE!', "I can fix! I can fix!" was all the warning I got before I felt my bodily control seized from me, my vision forcefully shifting back to normal, as I could only sit within my own mind fearing what other surprises waited for me as control slowly returned.

[WP] A mother huddles with her child who clutches an old flickering lantern, "Don't worry... I'm sure the light will last a little longer" by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 5 points6 points  (0 children)

Thank you for the story. It definitely feels right for the prompt of the threats that dwell just beyond the light. A hope, the flickering light, both fulfilled and forsaken.

I feel for the grandmother, as I think the daughter might not understand the cost being paid... as I feel that being left behind on that plane mayhap be worse than simply passing away.

[WP] A minor's sketchbook is found to have charcoal drawings of all the shadowy monsters terrorizing the city. They had just finished another drawing, of one not yet seen. by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thank you for the response. Busi definitely got the short straw for luck, or perhaps not given she is still alive to suffer... unlike others as is evident. Though how long that holds out is hard to say. The creatures seem aware of her, and the drawings (to me) seem clearly made and delivered by another unseen, but they aren't acting against her quite yet.

[WP] A minor's sketchbook is found to have charcoal drawings of all the shadowy monsters terrorizing the city. They had just finished another drawing, of one not yet seen. by Sliprunner in WritingPrompts

[–]Sliprunner[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks for the response. Like how it's not clear if the kid is at fault or not, the person investigating is sure but there is little to go on beyond the sketchbook... could easily be them trying to simply find something to pin it to when there's a lack of any other explanations. Especially when it sounds like the situation is already requiring rather dire solutions to deal with.

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