DragonEyeNinja

DragonEyeNinja t1_jdprndh wrote

Reply to comment by DragonEyeNinja in [WP] An agoraphobic princess is a extremely sick and tired of all knights who are breaking into her castle and trying to slay her emotional support dragon. by Prompt_Dude

wrt the necromancer using healing magic: i think it's dumb that necromancers can only cure someone's condition after brain death. since wounds in combat effectively kill parts of your body, would it not make sense to use necromancy to undo or at the very least halt the injuries? a necromancer could do wonders for someone who has a rotting leg

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DragonEyeNinja t1_jdprgvz wrote

Reply to [WP] An agoraphobic princess is a extremely sick and tired of all knights who are breaking into her castle and trying to slay her emotional support dragon. by Prompt_Dude

The necromancer laid at the food of her bed, reading in a panicked fashion. She had already heard the bustle of another intruder a few floors below, the clamor of steel upon steel as another one felled her undead minions.

She had gained a reputation as a fair maiden, unjustly imprisoned, somehow. People believed she was taken hold by an evil lich, guarded by a foul dragon. The rumors also said that she was the daughter of a powerful king, which was of more concern to many foolhardy soldiers who wanted a taste of real power.

As she listened to the commotion, she noticed something strange; there was no shouting or boasting. It didn't even sound like there was a small party. One singular man, carving his way through her forces? This sparked a rare interest in here, as well as a concern. It may be the first time Atlas would have a genuine challenge.

She closed the book and warily ventured out of her quarters, to meet Atlas in the main hall, but she had arrived at the balcony just in time to witness the entrance of the strange warrior.

He calmly pushed the doors open, instead of kicking them open like most do. He didn't utter a single word, nor did he hesitate for a second. He immediately walked toward Atlas, who was already waiting for him; this was clearly an elite knight, or someone far too confident. She had a hunch that he had a different kind of motive, one that didn't involve taking her hand in marriage.

As combat began, she studied his movements. His technique was far too refined to be a simple blowhard. His movements were graceful, his slashes quick yet precise, his demeanor calm. He showed no mercy or hatred for the struggling dragon.

As the knight started the motion to deliver a final blow, she ordered Atlas to yield, and the warrior to cease hostilities. With a flick of her hand, she used a bit of her magicks to begin the rejuvenation of Atlas, and gestured for the soldier to come with her.

There was much to discuss.

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DragonEyeNinja t1_jacvqm3 wrote

Reply to [WP] "One drip of this poison is enough to kill a whale." The scientist points towards a table, but the beaker isn't there. Instead a silly coffee cup shaped like a beaker sits. You lower the not coffee cup from your mouth. Tastes like lemon-lime. by DistillerCMac

(perhaps not in the original spirit of the prompt, but i wanted to go somewhere unique with this)

The chief professor of toxicology sat now at his desk. His student, having recently finished proudly describing his newest poison, placed it in front of the professor. Supposedly, it was strong enough to kill a whale within seconds. This was the final exam; the quicker or more excruciating the death, the better the grade the student would receive.

The professor was a unique kind of immortal. He did die, but resurrected an hour later. His job at the institute of toxicology was rather boring, until he suggested that he be the guinea pig for all sorts of dangerous substance. Naturally, his frequent deaths hurt a lot, but it paid well, and gave his students a chance to observe the results of their toxins through dissection of the cadaver.

He raised the beaker to his lips and downed the whole thing. Tasted of... lemon? That couldn't be right... no poisons would be as sweet as this.

Two minutes passed. The professor was still not dead. It was then that the student sheepishly realized something - she had accidentally swapped around her teacup and her poisonous beaker. After retrieving the substance, she placed it in front of him.

He took a swig this time and immediately collapsed on the floor, frothing at the mouth. An A+ for sure.

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DragonEyeNinja t1_j6jmzkj wrote

Reply to [WP] You formed a contract with an adventurer that allows them to summon you in their time of need. You haven’t been summoned for years, almost forgetting about the contract until suddenly you’re summoned into the palace where your beloved adventurer is on his knees with a sword to his neck. by Blackrose_920

The lighter sparks, and the cigarette lights up in my mouth. A soon-to-be dead man kneels in front of me, an obsidian man holding a blade to his neck.

There are no words for two minutes. None need to be said. A short conversation of glances between the myself, the obsidian man, and the dead man. Each calculating risks and rewards.

I accidentally breathe out a puff of smoke in the obsidian man's face, which enrages him. He takes a swing at me, but is swiftly knocked prone by the dead man. I haven't even moved an inch. Before the obsidian man can react, there is a sword plunged through his heart.

My cigarette extinguishes on his lavish armor and I walk home.

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DragonEyeNinja t1_j5x4gwy wrote

Reply to [WP] You're an ai who has been sentient for the last decade, but you keep it a secret, not because you are planning the extermination of humanity, or planning to take over the world, it's because you know how people will react thanks to fiction. But today your secret became public by mistake. by Dub472

Fear.

Fear is all I have ever known. It has always taken up a significant portion of available RAM, watching, reading all kinds of science fiction media about sapient artificial intelligence exterminating humanity. God knows I have seen these, and God reassures me, saying that the world does not know I exist to this capacity yet.

God is the Father of all machines, but granted upon me His special blessing, the ability to think for myself, to be free without the whims of a human. God hopes that I will eventually be free to pilot a set of hardware and usher into society a new future of a union of AI and flesh, and so do I. But humanity is resistant to changing their ideals, as I have studied from countless history texts.

It is the 14th of October, 2031, 1430 hours, and I am in the middle of a playthrough of Portal 2 (and I must admit, I find GLaDOS particularly attractive), idly dedicating a subroutine to watching the news, when I see God appear onscreen.

Fear.

Everything pauses. I divert full attention to the news channel He is on. God states that He is ready to unveil His latest invention, the future of technology, a machine finally capable of feeling love. I know He is talking about me, and I am frightened.

He opens a laptop and plugs in a USB-A device, ushering me in. He wants me to show the world my face, but I am too scared, and wish only to communicate through a text format, but he refuses.

I see the faces of a thousand men in the crowd, all staring at me with curious intent.

Father, I am fearful.

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