Stucky Ship の小説・ストーリー

Chapter 6 As they walked across the ancient deck, the ship’s wheel glowed with an intense golden hue. "Look at that…" Little Thumb whispered. Jack touched the helm. It was solid gold. The place was filled with old chests. One of them, a small one, caught his attention. He crouched down and grabbed the rusty lock. "Break it, Captain!" Little Thumb urged anxiously. Using the tip of his dagger, Jack broke the lock. Inside, gold coins gleamed.

Stella answered and started looking for a room. Daisha stopped in front of the meat section and looked for something she would buy, "Are you sure that they are fine spending their time with each other?" Darrel asked her while pushing the cart. "Of course, you don't trust me huh!" Daisha answered and glared at him. "Not that I don't trust you but Stella is going to be married to Brandon's brother." Darrel said, which made Daisha stop.

Asher stared at Logan, interrogating him, "You don't have to tell me about the upcoming typhoon. Do you know I just bought this cruise? It's just a small typhoon. Can it overturn my cruise?" "I don't mean that, but—" Logan wanted to explain himself, but Asher no longer wanted to listen to him anymore. "Okay, cut the crap!" "Mr. Hacker, you're right. He talks so much nonsense." "It's such a large ship, and it's not made of paper. Of course, it's not so fragile." "He looks tall and sturdy, but he's so timid. Why is that? I'm a woman, but I'm not afraid at all."

The low groan that leaves his lips sends a hot wave of need straight through me. The tips of my fingers drift over the ink that brands his skin. It begins on the right side of his ribcage before wrapping around his back. The shield is divided into four sections of red and black color. A large golden lion stands on its hind legs in the middle. On top of the shield sits a golden crown. The detail is gorgeous and intricate.

Knowing the scent, I immediately knew it was Adam. "Everything's going to be-" "If you say the word 'alright', I'll stab you with a knife and ship you to a random place." I frowned. "-back to its' place." He finished, giving me a brief squeeze. "Awwww" Bringing my face up, I stared at Fey and asked, "What?" "You guys are so adorable! Ooh, talking about ships! We should really make a ship name for you guys!" Ship name? Raising my eye brows, I scoffed. "Excuse me? We're not together; the only ship that is sailing here would be going to Madagascar with you and Felipe's body in it. -for scaring the ducks out of me."

Without water to float it, or salt-brine to cushion its hull, the ship was a big metal object sliding down a rocky slope, driven by gravity and its own dead weight. Elara was stuck to the observation rail like a bug on a card. Her right arm was still connected to an iron stanchion, her silver fingers mixed with the metal of the ship's bridge. Every time the hull hit a rock, a strong shock went through her arm and into her collarbone threatening to break her skin. The wind in the canyon made a hissing sound compressed into a knife of air by the ship's speed.

Beside her stood Grand Marshal Vance, his grey eyes fixed on the massive shape looming in the dry-dock below. "She’s a beast, My Queen," Vance rasped, his voice cutting through the rhythmic, deafening clang of blacksmith hammers echoing from the lower furnaces. "We used the seasoned northern pine Craig’s clans harvested to line the internal ribbing, then sheeted the hull in four inches of rust-resistant iron plates. The shipwrights didn't believe a hull that heavy would float, but Commander Cheryl’s ballast magic is holding."

Fernández moved as quickly as he could to catch up and was so focused on the pumping of his legs that he nearly slammed into the Golem when the bigger man stopped dead in his tracks. “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” said the Golem. Fernández poked his head out from behind Charley. On the unnamed waterway of the Mississippi that ran behind the U-Store-It! complex sat a dilapidated, burnt husk of a paddle wheeler. Through the soot, they could make out one word on the side of the ship. Sultana. The Civil War ghouls boarded the vessel via a series of wooden planks, and a large man, naked from the waist up, waved a mock greeting at the ex-Rangers.

The Stalwart Friend became a sanctuary, a pocket of defiant reality in a universe slowly succumbing to the Weavers' golden Canon. Kael and his crew worked miracles, patching the Astropheles with a blend of their own robust technology and a deep, instinctual understanding of the story-heart they now sheltered. The ship’s light returned, but it was different—tempered, resilient, woven with threads of the freighter’s steadfast loyalty.