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Okay, so, awhile back I wrote and posted the first chapter of a Yugioh spinoff story simply titled, Bandit Keith. As the title suggests, the story centers around a minor Duel Monsters Season 1 antagonist named "Bandit" Keith Howards, who was last seen breaking free from sort of mind control perpetrated by the Season 2 main antagonist and running away from a burning warehouse, believing he was possessed by some ghost. However, other than appearing as a mirage in Season 4, we never really see Howards after that point. This struck me as odd since Howards, an American, was at that moment in time stranded in a city in Japan, Domino City, without any money or knowledge of Japanese, his story left open to interpretation. I decided to take the liberty of continuing Keith's story upon noticing this narrative predicament, as I saw the rich potential in developing the black sheep of the entire Yugioh canon: a foreigner scumbag who could not catch a break. I mean, this guy had Fate kick the living shit out of him on multiple occasions without anyone batting an eye. He's done some shitty things in his life, sure, but damn; his punishment far outweighed his actions. Keith's life story makes him fall under this rare grey area within the Yugioh universe as he was pitted against both the first series's protagonists and two out of its six major antagonists. He even lost the closest thing he had to friends due to his obsession with enacting revenge against the main antagonist of season 1, said obsession prompting him to manipulate, insult, and ultimately abandon his peers. In short, Bandit Keith's life is the antithesis to all the major themes and tropes presented in Yugioh. He wasted his chance at friendship, he never had some ancient power or spirit on his side, he had selfish yet sympathetic motives that were not tragic enough to be framed as sympathetic, he never had that moment of terror, glory, or drama, he was never really tied to one of the good guys in some direct way, he never got a chance to learn from his mistakes, and most importantly, he never caught a break whether it be morally or amorally. In a world where Egyptian gods actually exist, where people play card games on motorcycles, where one of the wealthiest and most intelligent men in the world happens to be a fucking teenager, where a kid shares his body with an ancient Pharaoh, where dimensions filled with monsters await to teach life lessons or grant extraordinary powers to the main characters, where an entire school dedicates itself to teaching its students how to play a children's card game, where you can LITERALLY LOSE YOUR SOUL IF YOU LOSE IN SAID CHILDREN'S CARD GAME, Bandit Keith Howards was just some average shmuck who's greatest accomplishment was topping in some off-screen tournament, only to have some one-eyed, mind-reading, Sephiroth looking FUCK ruin his reputation for funsies. Sorry I got carried away for a second. Anyway, this story will not only give a character like Keith a second chance at life, but it will also examine the insanity of the Yugioh universe through the lens of the average man. It'll explore the more nuanced aspects of the Yugioh universe, such as the culture of Duel Monsters and why people take the game so seriously even without the ancient Egyptian magic. It'll also attempt to draw parallels from real life that weren't really explored in the canon, like the in-universe game's trade economy or the financially dangerous addiction to opening packs in search of that one rare card that you really really want. My first attempt to write this story proved to be rather poor, as I fucked up on the characterization by literally making Keith the typical 90s antihero. Like, that first chapter wasn't much, but damn, I sacrificed any meaningful or interesting dialogue for the sake of making Keith look mean, but in a cool and badass way and not a realistic or consequential way. I mean, Keith has the potential to become a badass, but not right after hitting rock-bottom. Thus, I decided to burn the entire thing and restart the story from scratch. Also, nothing of substance really happened in that first chapter besides the introduction of Keith's predicament. Instead of writing the story in the style of a novel, I'll attempt to write the story in a sort of quasi-script style. When I say quasi-script I mean a script with large paragraphs that would remind you of a novel but with the formalities of setting up scenes and organizing the novel-like paragraphs into numbered sequences. I'm doing this because: A. I don't actually know how to truly write non-dialogue chunks of a script despite looking up online examples and B. It'll force me to take a break from long-winded descriptions of how characters inwardly "feel" to allow for stuff to actually happen in a more outwardly and physical manner. I will post each "Episode" (Chapter) in chunks separated by a "Commercial Break" so as to not take up too much space per post. I can't promise any frequent flow of content due to my college-bound duties, but I will at least try to finish the first episode within two months. Keep in mind that this story is based on events which happen in the Yugioh anime, because in the manga, Bandit Keith is actually killed during the manga's equivalent to season 1, which kind of ruins the entire thing ya dig? Feedback for this project is deeply appreciated, as I actually one day hope to see my vision become an actual, official thing at some point in my life. Thank you, and have fun reading I guess.
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Hello all! This thread is for a Zelda fan fiction I started writing in the spring of this year. The setting and story is based on the first Zelda game, so it's going to be different than what you've probably read before, but I hope you will find it interesting. Awakening The harsh light stung as his eyelids creaked open. The brilliant light slowly dimmed, revealing a view of a clouded sky. His head felt heavy and his body felt weak. Slowly, he let his head fall to the side and saw that he was lying in the middle of a dirt path with thick forests on either side. Debris from a destroyed wagon littered the ground around him. The man knew that something bad had happened to him and that he needed to flee as soon as possible before whatever it was that did this returned. He struggled to lift his head and body to sit up. To his horror, his green tunic was stained with dried darkened blood. He quickly felt around his torso for a wound, but quickly realized that the wound was from a blow to his head when he felt the dried blood clinging to his blinking eyes. As he regained his composure, he heard a distant roar echo through the trees. The man hushed his breath and listened. The soft noise of the wind passing through the verdant landscape filled his ears with nary a sound of life beyond the odd cry of a bird. The source of the roar seemed to be far off, but still too close for comfort. The man eased himself to his feet and took a step only to realize that his ankle was sprained, making walking a painful affair. To his advantage, his tough brown leather boots served as a brace for his worn ankle. He carefully stepped down the road, not sure of where he was headed. He only knew that he had to put some distance between the wreckage of the wagon and himself if he wanted to live. Again, the roar reverberated through the woods, only louder than before. The man instinctively reached for the sword on his back, but realized that he was divested of his sword and even his shield. He frantically felt around his tunic and his belt for anything to use as a weapon, but found nothing but emptied pouches on his belt. Sensing that his situation had become desperately grim, he began moving faster, ungracefully limping along the trail. The roar blasted through the trees even louder. He knew that staying on the road at this point would be the end of him and turned off the trail and into the trees, hoping to evade detection, should the source of the roar draw near. The man grunted with every step as he endured the sharp and painful sensation that ailed his ankle. The forest underbrush thickened as he hobbled along, threatening to trip him as the ferns and weeds snagged his feet. Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the uneasy murmur of the forest. The man fearfully looked back in the direction of the noise, but could barely see what might had been there, for he tripped on an unearthed branch and fell to the ground. He scrambled to recover, but stopped himself short as a peculiar sound caught his ear. It was difficult to distinguish from the blowing wind, but the sound vibrated on the leaves. It was a rhythmic growl that sent a chill down his spine. He raced to his feet and started again. The low growl continued to fluctuate, almost in timing with his heart beat. His sharp breathing added to the cacophony as his foot falls provided the percussive beat. At once, the orchestra was abruptly interrupted by an incredible boom that shook the earth, nearly throwing the man to the ground. Whatever it was drew ever near. He picked up the pace of his limp, desperate to escape. If the source of the noise caught up to him, he would not survive. The eyes of the man managed to spy what appeared to be a distant structure in the midst of overgrowth. As he steadily approached, he made out a wooden building surrounded and nearly concealed by overgrowth. At last, he had found hope for survival. He limped to the doorsteps and tried to open the door, but it was jammed as if something barred the other side. The low growl grew louder and severer. The green-clad man frantically pushed against the door, hoping to jar it loose. The sinister sound grew louder still until he could hear the sound of breaking brush. He gave the door a fierce push and it gave way at last. He stumbled into the structure and fell to the floor. As he looked up, he heard the door quietly shut behind him. He sat up and turned around to see an old man with a long white bear, wearing large orange robes, standing in front of the closed door. The old man placed one finger over his lips, signaling to the man not to speak. The man remained on the floor as he watched the old man move with a tired yet graceful gait through the cozy abode, extinguishing every lamp and candle and leaving only the dim gray light that poured through the window shutters to light the house. The old man at last took a seat on a chair and invited the man to sit in an unoccupied chair near him. A regular boom filled the silence of the house, as did the growling. The man ached, yet his body remained painfully tense as the moments passed. He could hear the sounds of the trees shaking and snapping nearby. The predatory growl turned into a frustrated tone as the source moved through the area. Suddenly, the entire house shook as a roar saturated the air, followed by a crashing noise. As the sounds echoed off into the woods, the relative silence of the forest returned. The man let out a relieved sigh as the danger passed. The old man stood up once more and the candles and lamps in the dwelling reignited on their own. The elder stood in front of the man and examined him carefully, noting the tears in his dirty green tunic and the dried blood that led to a coagulated wound on his forehead, slightly covered by his wet, matted brown bangs. The man unconsciously withheld his breath, uncomfortable with the idea of breaking the silence of the moment. After a moment, the old man turned from the man and to a nearby wooden table, picked up a cloth, and the moved to a wooden pail of water to soak the cloth. He brought the cloth to the man's face and scrubbed away the blood and cleaned the wound on his head. The old man set aside the blood-soaked rag and took hold of the man's face, forcing open one of his eyelids. The man reflexively reeled away, but the old man hushed him with a slight whisper as if to say that he posed him no harm. The old man peered into the man's eyes, noting every feature of his icy blue iris. His curiosity satisfied, the elder let go of the man's face and grabbed the bloodied rag from the table, taking it to a hook to hang it. The old man then turned again to the man. "Forgive my intrusiveness, I'm sure you understand," the old man said as he took a seat in his chair. "It has been quite a while since I have seen anyone." Perplexed, the man asked, "I'm not sure I get your meaning." The old man raised one of his white, bushy eyebrows. "Just where did you come from, lad?" "I'm not sure," he said as he held his head, "I know I'm not from this place, but I can't quite recall where I came from or why I'm here." The old man's weathered eyes narrowed at the sight of the man holding his battered head. "I see, you suffered a disorienting blow to the head." "I'm not certain, but when I awoke earlier, I was lying on the road in this state amongst the wreckage of a wagon, with all of my belongings taken away." "It must have been one of the bands of thieves. You are very fortunate to have survived such an encounter." "If I may ask," the man began, "Why did you look into my eye in such a manner as earlier?" "Shapeshifters," the old man plainly stated. "They are hideous creatures that masquerade as decent Hylians. Their one tell is the unnatural color and shape of their eyes." "Why didn't you just tell me what you were doing?" "If you were indeed a Shapeshifter, the very sound of my voice would have alerted your cohorts." The old man shifted slightly in his seat. "As for why I kept you silent, it was so that the creature stalking you did not return." The elder suddenly took notice of the way the man sat with one of his legs stretched out. "Is your leg well?" "I am afraid not. It was injured when I awoke." The old man stood up and walked to the man. He held out his hand. "Let me help you to a bed. You need to rest." "But I do not want to intrude on your abode," the man spoke as he began to stand. He lost balance as soon as he left the chair, but the old man caught his hand and steadied him. "Young man, you will die far before your time if you do not take this chance to heal." The man reluctantly nodded in agreement as he followed the old man's lead to the bed and lied down. "Sage, what is your name?" "Call me Aldwyn. And what do you call yourself, brave sir?" "I am Link."