Homestuck Ships Novels & Stories

felt quite strange to Long Chen. "Brother Du, do you think our ship can withstand the attacks of the beasts in this desert?" asked one of the sisters with curly hair. "Ho? Good question! At least their balls aren't at the heavenly king level, so this ship will still be safe!" Long Chen spoke casually and was a little proud of the ship he had built himself. So when the three women heard him speak, they couldn't help but look surprised. A ship at the heavenly king level? Doesn't that mean it's at the sacred artifact level? How rich!

He pushed against the lever making the steering chain give a CLANG that rattled the ship’s rudder post. The green light ahead did not fade. The wolves were no longer an army; they were a matrix of frozen bone and petrified timber that rose high into the sky. The ship’s green current traveled down the steering chain into the water and the wolves’ frozen eyes codified. The gray fur along the baseline began to flatten turning into two-dimensional columns of fine lines that mapped the frontier. The mountain wasn't resisting the ship. It was being invented as a default. "Elara...the hand...isn't Leo's..." a squeak vibrated through the wire under her tongue.

"Impossible. It's like having soup and dropping a piece of chicken gizzard into the soup—I might spend half an hour fishing it out and still end up unable to get it. Now think about this, a pot of soup is only so big, and you still can't fish something out from the bottom. How could their family hope to locate a single ship in the vast ocean? "Besides," he added with a smirk. "Every one of my ships is escorted by Ten Thousand Armies. Do they really think they can simply board and search my ships? That's nothing but a pipe dream."

Seedlings gave us hope for a future at safehold. My mother stood beside me, excited almost. As if she couldn't wait to pay an old friend a visit. Some crew members stayed behind to help rebuild homes, while some would depart permanently at Rapier Port. Bittersweet, but I understood. I didn't know if Charles would be in Rapier Port, but as we pulled beside the pier, I saw a sparkling and brand new ship with the flag of a heart outlined in a ribcage. The Bone Heart. As I said, predictable.

Small structures extend from its surface like antennae made of living crystal. “Coalition vessels are not purely technological,” the angel explains. “They are partially biological.” Matteo squints at the image. “That sounds uncomfortable.” Severiel ignores him. “They grow their ships.” Ezra studies the structure. “Which means the crew may also be integrated with it.” Correct. The Custodian confirms the statement. Matteo sighs. “Alien symbiotic space whales. Great.” I look back at the projection. “Are they stronger than the predator.”

Then I saw them—there was a set of about fifty ships moving in a formation on the water. They were heading toward the borders of our land. The moment the people on the ships spotted us, arrows started flying up into the sky. Vermithor dodged the arrows easily by twisting his body in the air. He was very fast. Then he went into a full attack mode. He dove low toward the water, opened his mouth wide, and sent streams of hot fire across the ships. The wood caught on fire instantly. The sails burned up in the heat. Men screamed and they jumped into the water to escape.

“Yeah. Right.” “Status?” Conner asked without looking away from me. Hayden straightened, slipping back into soldier mode. “Flare burned out. Boarders pulled off. We lost… we lost some crates.” He swallowed, glanced at Dom. “Not all.” Dom raked a hand through his hair. “Who the hell hits a moving ship like that? No pattern. No call sign. One minute they’re there, the next...” He shook his head. “Ghosts.” “Got a good look at ‘em?” Conner asked.

And just like everyone knows the bond had played its magic so strong and soon that all we found of him was snapped neck in his own bedroom. That day, Aeric promised never to love and just fuck without emotions, and I promised never to fuck or fall for anyone but my mate. I know quite different takes on the topic. Nevertheless, no one can deny that we aren't the same in any form or way. We are like two different pieces of the same puzzle, placed further away, having several pieces in between to link us. My mind yet can't deny that, yesterday Penny seemed to fit in like the link to join us and fade us all into a beautiful picture when viewed all together.

It wasn't the Holy Syndicate. From the fog emerged a fleet of "Ghost Ships"—commercial freighters, private yachts, and even fishing trawlers, all manned by people who had been "Decommissioned" by the Syndicate’s global seizure. They were the waitresses from Singapore, the coders from Geneva, and the soldiers from New York who had refused to go back to their "Stations." The lead ship, a battered Northwood icebreaker, pulled alongside the black sand. A woman stepped onto the deck—Mina, her eyes tired but free of the neon-green glow. Beside her stood a thousand others, their faces grim and determined.

Binny was getting on that ship today, chains and all, and he was going home. I was not. I’d made my peace with that somewhere on the walk over. Or close enough to it. The closer I got the more I could see. Three large ships sat at the water bank, the biggest one in the middle and the other two flanking it on either side. Councilors I recognized were standing near the clearing in loose groups, watching the loading process. I moved through the edge of the crowd and started scanning faces. Guards stood in tight rows between me and the dock. I looked through them, past them, searching for blonde hair and a familiar set of shoulders.