M. W. Hall

@dungeonmagister

28 year old Cajun demisexual. He/him because I'm used to it, but I don't actually care.🌈🌈🌈 10 years of Game Mastery 🗡️ Writer by trade. Blue collar laborer by necessity. Resident dad friend.

928 Siguiendo938 Seguidores2249 Publicaciones

Bluesky

gamer

¿Es tu perfil?Reclámalo y dungeonmagister.dirty.social es tuyo.Reclamar perfil

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· 18d

Ya boi going crazy

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· 22d

I'll admit, the intro to Dead City Watchers is a little slow, but if you can get here, I promise it's all up from there. This is still in the first chapter, and it's where the fun begins. #booksky #writing www.royalroad.com/fiction/1499...

The wind was howling as the door slammed, and Colonel Deverio sauntered in, soaking wet from the pouring rain. He shook out his beard and unruly mop of hair before throwing off his cloak onto the coat rack where it plaped into a flat, heavy rag. His armor was soaked almost through, and he was starting to loosen the belts when Cartizi threw the door open and shook the water off like a dog. The wyrmblood warrior’s snout blew a mist of droplets as he yanked the hood down off his head. His yellow and brown scales beaded with water that didn’t stick. His bruised eye twitched around the sliver of brown iris that showed beneath.

“Well, young blood, was that little soiree everything you’d hoped it would be?” the Colonel scratched out, voice still hoarse from all the yelling. A peel of rolling thunder pounded over the sky as buckets of rain hammered on the roof of the old tower’s first floor.

“Right up until the runt clubbed me.” Cartizi said, tearing off his cloak and shaking even more water off his back. “Didn’t even draw my sword though, so it was a waste of fuckin time, ‘f you askin me.”

A thin, sharp voice rose from the dark, “Be glad you didn’t have to draw your blade. By the sound of it, you would not have had time to use it.”

“Can it, Seigmoor. You stayed here anyway. You didn’t see.” Cartizi said.

“That is because I do not like being wet.” Seigmoor replied, before his frosty eyes appeared in the dark. The vitrian swordsman rose from a meditative kneel to his full height, and the massive black cat warrior stood a head and shoulders over both of them.Braided ropes of hair twisted in dark brown twine about his shoulders.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· 22d

Safety glasses earned their price tag today. Metal chip to the eye at like mach 3 and barely a scratch to show for it.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· 23d

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· 24d

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· 25d

Thinking of them again

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· 26d

I played a lot of Mirrodin and Return to Ravnica growing up, so I got the magitek brain worms.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jul 8

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jul 7

Bringing it back. Evergreen article. Literally never gets old. theonion.com/cobweb-cover...

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jul 1

Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. - Carl Sagan, "The Pale Blue Dot", 1994

A picture of the cosmos taken from Voyager as it traveled away from the Earth. Suspended in a sunbeam is a tiny blue speck. That single pixel, which is our planet, is not only unremarkable, but also barely distinguishable from the infinite space around it.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 29

Ivy, a teenage stowaway on Captain Simonne's ship: "I don't feel safe in this port" Simonne: "here kid, this should make you feel safe" #booksky #writing

Person handing a pistol to a raccoon with the caption "Go, do a crime"

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 27

The Alchemist from Alberek, Noriah. Born in the southern city state of Indaal, she became an apprentice to a cruel teacher, and escaped to Alberek. She became an academic, and used mutagens to give herself the body she always wanted... If a little shorter than she meant to.. #fantasy #worldbuilding

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 21

Kreechur #writing #fantasy #booksky #worldbuilding

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 20

How it started How it's going #booksky #writing #fantasy Check out the rest of Dead City Watchers for free on Royal Road: www.royalroad.com/fiction/1499...

Kluataal stepped into a warm, humid room just as the sound of sloshing filled a tub near the back. It was pitch black until a few seconds later, when he heard a match strike. A faint glow enveloped a stall near the back, and a lantern was placed on a pedestal at its mouth by a graceful hand.
The room was still dark, but he could make out the shapes and character of it well enough. It was full of stone walled stalls intermittently spattered with cobwebs near the ceiling, and wooden tubs with curtains roped to the iron pipes running in all directions. Patches, welds, and discolored concrete slabs from centuries of use, reuse, and repair permeated the room under the thin layer of steam that drifted up from the tub at the back.
Metal ground against metal as a valve turned, and claws clicked against stones while more water trickled through the walls. Vandasa was taking off her jacket as she stepped into view. She stared at Kluataal as her fingers pried at the buttons. The yellowy green reflection in the back of her eyes glinted in the lambent flicker of the lamp light.

“Do not mock me, cub. My gag is a compliment on your part, not a weakness on mine. I have been doing this since before you were born.” She said.
“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it.” a twinge of fear on his face.
“Of course not.” She purred. Then, she rose up out of the water. “Now, Sit.” she commanded, gesturing to the tub.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 15

After a near death experience and more than one hear to heart, things get saucy. REAL saucy. Chapter 12 coming next Friday #fantasy #romance #booksky #t4t

He stood up to meet her, gazing down into her eyes. “Is this what you had in mind?” he said, his hip pressing into hers as he leaned close enough to kiss her.
“Let’s just… start easy, and see where it takes us?” she asked.
Noriah reached behind him and grabbed his waist while he put one arm around her ribs and the other over her shoulder. He had to crane down to stand at her height. She wondered if the height difference would complicate things. Then, his fingers slid through her curly hair and caressed the back of her neck. She breathed into his face as the thoughts vanished. He kissed her once on the cheek, then again on the neck. As he pressed himself against her, he felt a bulge long and stiff rubbing against his inner thigh, and up into his folds.
“I thought you changed everything about you.” He whispered in her ear.
“I did.” she purred, before licking her lips. “I wasn’t as… gifted before.” she said. “Is that bad?”
“I’m definitely not complaining.” he said, an ecstatic, giddy grin on his face.
“I guess we won't be taking it slow?” she said, more hopeful than disappointed.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 12

I wonder what a chromed out MX-5 would look like with a creamy leather drop top and white walls.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 9

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 8

Tried telling my boss so many times that there is an impossible amount of work to do for just one man, but he never listened. He had to do my job for a couple of days, and now he wants to talk about "the division of responsibility". It's true that we already have jobs open, but still.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 8

"Gay ranger and resident cougar listen to a hunk rattle on about native tattoos" is probably my favorite scene from chapter 3. #booksky #writersonbluesky

Kluataal shifted his shoulder free of his coveralls, and pointed to the blue eyed fish that was on his lower bicep. His undershirt was stained with sweat, but Vandasa and Eruun didn’t seem to mind, so he went on with his story.

“So, like I said, usually fish tattoos don’t have eyes. It’s always the birds that have eyes. That’s - a bird’s whole thing. Seeing, I mean.” he said, and the others nodded. They were beginning to sober up by this point, but the spirits hadn’t completely worn off yet.

“But the thing about fish- Fish don’t see all that well, so when a tattoo of a fish has colored eyes, that usually means the person that fish represents - to you, I mean…. Well, let’s just say, they got more perceptive later in life…. Listen, you might have been a fish before, but you may not be a fish now. And, I mean, that’s assuming every tattoo has a story. Some of mine are just… a good way to start a conversation…”

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 4

She's a runaway alchemist that designed her own body. He's a soldier whose dad always wanted a boy. Sorry I buried the Lead #HappyPride #booksky

The scars on his torso were many, and some of them were pink and irritated; including the two wide scars at the base of his chest. It was like a hive of angry insects waking up when the nest had been kicked. Besides those were a myriad of tiny scratches, and larger lacerations that had healed into pale, rough marks. Noriah sighed, grabbed the pitcher, then pulled the blanket back over Constan before stepping out of the door.

“I have Gebberdine’s Panacea. That might work!”
Lomren grinned in recognition. “That certainly does work. It’s only a temporary fix though, and certainly not a habit I can afford to start.”
Noriah set the vial down next to Lomren’s hand as he reached for the page corner, and it froze in place. Then, he plucked it from the wood. He chuckled as he stared at it.
“Are you giving me this?” he asked.
“Is something wrong with that?” Noriah asked, suddenly worried, but Lomren continued to stare at it a moment longer.
He turned to her as he spoke. “Nothing is wrong… It’s just…” their eyes met. “It’s funny how… insignificant something can be to someone. A token gesture of good faith. Yet, it means so much to someone else.” He said, nodding. “I don’t think I will drink this tonight. There will be a better time to make use of it. Either way, thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” Noriah said, but it certainly hadn’t been nothing. Like her mutagens, it had taken her months to learn how to make the contents of that vial. As with the mutagens, now she could make as much of it as she could find ingredients for. It was all worth it for moments like these. She smiled back, and turned to Constan.
“I… well.. I think it’s time I go to bed. It was good meeting you.” she said.
“Likewise." he replied.

“You know? Not really. Just the alchemists that like my music, I guess…” he paused before tilting his head to the side. “That said, I can't say I know what sort of potions you make. I’ve only ever seen a couple of things from you. Are you still learning?”
Noriah gave him an awkward laugh, then wrung her hands together. “well, I know how to make lots of things, but… mutagens. I primarily make mutagens.”
Constan squinted at her. “So… did you run out of firebreath tonic? Left the wings in another body or something?”
“I can only explain by revealing some… compromising details about myself… but I guess I dug the hole with my own hands, didn't I? Plus, I’ve seen your scars. I think I know what they mean…” she said.
Constan frowned, her inability to get on with the point getting to him. Then, he waved a hand at her. “My dad always wanted a boy anyway. I just thought he’d be happier once I told him.”
Noriah considered her answer carefully, before leaning back, and gesturing to her body. “I took a little bit of a different approach. Most of my alchemy training went into making this. The Mender’s tonic and the Panacea was just something to make me useful.”
Constan frowned again. “I don’t think you get it. I’m saying that I wasn’t born a man.”
“I don’t think YOU get it. I WAS.”
“Oh.” Constan said, and the conversation went silent. Something had changed though. Something invisible and electric.

M. W. Hall@dungeonmagister· Jun 4

I have poured my heart into my free web serial, Dead City Watchers, and there's an entire novella's worth of story to read that's out already. I have much more in the works, and it would mean the world to me if anyone would give it a chance. #booksky #writesky www.royalroad.com/fiction/1499...