u/Jokengonzo

So the Marvel Universe has a very complex problem in the mutants, and yes, I know DC has metahumans, but they are not the same. Metas are basically humans who got powers via some lab experiment gone wrong or some alien goo they drank. But mutants are born with their powers, and it's said they are to Homo sapiens what Homo sapiens were to Neanderthals, their evolutionary replacement.
You don't know when one will be born or with what power. Registration, while helpful, has led to more problems for mutants than not, and heroes, non-mutant ones, seem to take a hands-off approach to them for the most part. Is it because they don't want to oppose the government, or perhaps they too, being human, have a fear of the mutants and their supposed destiny?
Now, outright destroying them cannot be accepted, nor does it seem humans are willing to just accept they will be replaced by mutants.
Does DC have a similar crisis? One not easily solved

I was at Barnes & Noble and saw Dungeon Crawler Carl and He Who Fights With Monsters both occupying prime space in the front of the store, and it got me wondering. There are thousands of great stories on Royal Road, some that could give the former a run for their money, yet they haven’t crossed over into the mainstream. What makes a story explode? I know the meta, the tips, all that stuff is solid, but what’s that extra sauce that takes a story from being popular online to occupying prime bookshelf space?

o hopefully this is the right place to ask this. One thing, in my own opinion, that I have noticed is how much the West, especially America, seems to mind losing any men or women in conflict. This, to me, is kind of strange because, well, in war, should it not be expected that you're going to lose people? Yet America seems reluctant to accept any casualties, and I wonder if this is a profound weakness. An enemy simply knows what you're not willing to risk, which means they can wait you out because the escalation is not worth the price to you.
I know we have fought poorly armed radical factions, and that may have turned our perspective of war into something that's done over a weekend. Yet before, America seemed able to bear far more casualties. Not to say that being willing to throw your men into a grinder like Russia is good, but I believe attitudes of such risk aversion make it harder to defeat a determined enemy and put you in a bad spot during negotiations because the enemy knows your limits.

So let me preface this by saying that my favorite crew will forever be Picard, cause I grew up with them and they were the best ever (search your feelings, you know it to be true, Kirk fans). That being said, I am loving the dynamic of Captain Pike and his crew, and I know many people kinda dislike the whole cracking jokes melodrama of SNW. But I enjoy it. I feel it adds a new, fresh mix to the Enterprise. Like Kirk and them remind me of jocks and cowboys, like how Janeway said they were the type to shoot first, ask questions later, and when Picard was in charge, it felt like these awesome nerds who could figure out anything. But the SNW crew with Pike? Man, it feels like just a fun crew who can do the job and party after or during.
If there is an alien tyrant who needs their ass kicked, I call Kirk’s crew. Some mysterious space anomaly? Bring up Picard and company. But to just explore the galaxy and go on random adventures, I would roll with Pike and his boys and girls any day.
Thank you for reading, and I await your glorious nod of approval.

One thing I constantly hear is about how Bear was selfish Bear was a monster but let’s say you did the wish thing not thinking it would work it does and now you got your obsession to deal with . Would you do what the Customer service said and kill your self? I doubt many would

I Know as times change, what is popular in anime changes. I remember in my younger days anime was all about that hidden world, you know, a kid discovers he's part of something special or gets involved in a secret world, ala Shaman King, Bleach, etc. And you had the ones like Bebop and Trigun, and they got replaced, and well, sooner or later these will too. And for me, I would like to see a return to the Trigun/Bebop types. Sort of slice-of-life adventure.

As the question says which Anime do you think had that happen to them? For me Bleach I remember seeing so much about it and now I hardly see it mentioned compared to Naruto or One Piece

As the question says which Anime do you think had that happen to them? For me Bleach I remember seeing so much about it and now I hardly see it mentioned compared to Naruto or One Piece

So across many realities or universes, people will isekai to brand new places, and when they do, they sometimes become so ridiculously strong they completely break or rewrite the rules of the world, and often there ends up being some world ending event they deal with. But my question is this: These world ending events, are they the result of the OP isekai arriving, or are they events that would have occurred with or without them? And is the isekai man or woman actually stealing the destiny of the heroes who are supposed to save their world?

So I’m trying to find any anime with hot elves a simple
Premise yes I already know of Skeleton knight in another world and now I need to see if there are any other animes you could suggest

I’m sure you have heard the phrase Sex sells before and while that’s true I don’t really think that applies to RR in fact I would say most people find out your series has something sexual in it they won’t read it. Which is kinda funny because I feel like a lot of Litrpg and progression fantasy has plenty of that. But on the Roads such things are not popular or maybe they are and it’s only a loud minority against it

I was wondering what was the average age for RR, does it lean more younger or older?

So my cousin was telling me about how big the world is in. ASOIAF and it had me wondering where exactly has Euron gone cause didn’t he find some kraken horn or something in his travels and that sounds pretty cool to learn about

We all know Tolkien influenced the world of high fantasy like no one else, and we know Robert E. Howard's impact on sword and sorcery. It got me thinking, who else has had a major impact that I don't know about? Just recently I discovered that Fritz Leiber's Grey Mouser was the influence behind D&D's Rogue class. So who else would you say deserves to be on that list?

I am writing a new story , and I wanted to see what you guys think of it with this small preview. If you could tell me

1. Does it grab your attention?
2. Is the world building interesting?
3. What can I change to make better?
4. What kind of book does it feel like?
5. Would you give it a try?

This the small blurb followed by a sample.

Jenadar is a simple man. He loves a good brawl, strong grog, and busty elven women, and in the world of Terrama, those were never hard to find. Life was good... until the notorious Cat of Nines, master thief of the Thieves Guild, framed him for stealing the Princess Pearl.

Now his easy life is over.

A cursed necklace has been locked around his neck, and if he doesn't bring back a new pearl from the Wailing Mountain within five days, it'll take his head right along with it. With no allies at his side except a sarcastic talking sword that never seems to shut up, Jenadar is thrown into a desperate race against time. To survive, he'll have to descend into the Wailing Mountain, where monsters, ancient curses, and things far worse than death have waited for centuries.

All he wanted was another mug of grog.

Now he just wants to keep his head

Jenadar was thirsty. His plant pod had leaked out its last dew almost a full day ago, and still the long purple sands of Khamaras Desert were all that greeted him. He should have been at the city hours ago, or at least that's what that traveller had told him.

Jenadar bit his lip in frustration. It was stupid to trust that man, stupid. He looked down at the silver star shaped compass. It was a Star Connector. It was supposed to make the journey shorter by showing the quickest path to the attuned star on the compass. The only problem was that it ran on Teknologee, and whatever kind it was didn't like sand and heat, and so it had stopped working.

Teknologee had always been weird to him. He knew it was the Majiak of the Old Ones and what the cities relied on for the shimmering air shields, their machines that pumped water, and kept on the lights. Still, he never saw any need to learn more than he needed to, and all he needed to know was right on his hip. He patted the black and silver laser pistol hanging on his outside thigh. It was a thing of beauty, a nice rounded barrel, a 12 shot bolt holder, dark red wooden hand grips with gold just on one side, left no doubt who it belonged to.

Jenadar shifted the sword on his back, bringing it up a bit as the strap had begun to bite into his neck. As he did he heard a voice.

"Perhaps next time we listen to the more experienced one of us, hmm?"

"I'm going to ignore your stupidity," Jenadar replied.

"What stupidity? Are you saying this cause I'm a sword? Is that it?"

Jenadar sighed.

"No."

"Then why say..." the sword prodded.

Jenadar ignored the question.

"You know I'm gonna just keep asking," the sword said.

Jenadar growled in frustration.

"Whatever Majiak or Teknologee that made you should have made you mute."

The sword scoffed.

"And have the world miss my singing voice? Haha, not bloody likely."

Jenadar rolled his eyes.

"If you keep your mouth shut maybe I can sell you to some nice rich merchant, or maybe a king."

"As if they can afford me. I, Deradill, one of the Singing Swords, am priceless," Deradill answered.

"Well, truth be told, I would trade you in for a Wind Bike or Thrator mount right about now."

"And I would trade you for one of those female Long Rangers. They know how to take care of their equipment. Keeping me in this ragged ass scabbard, the shame."

Deradill muttered something else, but Jenadar didn't hear him. Instead, his ears had picked up a slow dull hum. It was faint but getting closer.

"Fuck. Raiders."

Jenadar spit as four small dots appeared on the horizon. They were on something, but the hazy shimmering heat didn't show what until they got closer. They were on these black vehicles that tapered to a long nose, and the back was rounded out. The seats were sunken and they straddled them. There were two stubby wings on the front and two on the back.

The riders were dressed in black rope and uncured iron. The ropes covered their most private parts and feet, and several pieces of iron were strapped to their shoulders and chest. Their faces were heavy with black paint streaked across them. There were three men, all with black hair cut on one side, and there was one woman, her head shaved save for a small knot atop her head. They carried long spears of bone stained with dried blood.

"Ohh shit," Deradill's voice sounded in Jenadar's head.

"I hate when you communicate with thought speak," Jenadar thought.

"Ohbraga yesh na?" one of the men spoke, pointing his spear.

Jenadar shook his head to show he didn't understand him.

"Jusga gou Happbak?" another of them spoke.

"I think they are speaking Farlor," Deradill said.

"Whatever it is I don't understand it," thought Jenadar.

The woman leaned over her vehicle and spoke in the common tongue with a hard accent.

"You are in the Desert of the Mekai. You must pay a toll to cross."

Jenadar raised an eyebrow.

"That is funny cause I saw no sign."

The woman chuckled.

"The sandstorm must have knocked it down. Nonetheless, it will be 5 Crystios for the toll."

Jenadar noticed the bikes had encircled him.

"What if I don't have the 5?"

The girl shrugged.

"Then we just take what you do have."

"That would be a mistake," Jenadar's voice went low.

"Hoga thir optioo Goder Las," one of the other riders spoke to the woman, who raised her hand and shook her head.

"My tribemate wants to kill you and take your stuff, but I feel you will hand them over, yes?"

Deradill and Jenadar laughed.

"You feel wrong, and the day is too hot to stand here talking. Let me go or make your move."

The woman cracked a smile and raised two fingers.

One of the bikes roared to life. A sharp whistling sound was heard, and the rider fell over dead.

Jenadar's laser pistol was in hand, and its deadly red beam had punched a hole into the rider before he could move.

There was a moment of shock, then the other three bikes roared to life and came at Jenadar.

I am making a new series coming soon. It's off meta, more of a Sword and Planet or Sword and Sorcery adventure, and I wanted to see what you guys think of it with this small preview.

Jenadar is a simple man. He loves a good brawl, strong grog, and busty elven women, and in the world of Terrama, those were never hard to find. Life was good... until the notorious Cat of Nines, master thief of the Thieves Guild, framed him for stealing the Princess Pearl.

Now his easy life is over.

A cursed necklace has been locked around his neck, and if he doesn't bring back a new pearl from the Wailing Mountain within five days, it'll take his head right along with it. With no allies at his side except a sarcastic talking sword that never seems to shut up, Jenadar is thrown into a desperate race against time. To survive, he'll have to descend into the Wailing Mountain, where monsters, ancient curses, and things far worse than death have waited for centuries.

All he wanted was another mug of grog.

Now he just wants to keep his head

Jenadar was thirsty. His plant pod had leaked out its last dew almost a full day ago, and still the long purple sands of Khamaras Desert were all that greeted him. He should have been at the city hours ago, or at least that's what that traveller had told him.

Jenadar bit his lip in frustration. It was stupid to trust that man, stupid. He looked down at the silver star shaped compass. It was a Star Connector. It was supposed to make the journey shorter by showing the quickest path to the attuned star on the compass. The only problem was that it ran on Teknologee, and whatever kind it was didn't like sand and heat, and so it had stopped working.

Teknologee had always been weird to him. He knew it was the Majiak of the Old Ones and what the cities relied on for the shimmering air shields, their machines that pumped water, and kept on the lights. Still, he never saw any need to learn more than he needed to, and all he needed to know was right on his hip. He patted the black and silver laser pistol hanging on his outside thigh. It was a thing of beauty, a nice rounded barrel, a 12 shot bolt holder, dark red wooden hand grips with gold just on one side, left no doubt who it belonged to.

Jenadar shifted the sword on his back, bringing it up a bit as the strap had begun to bite into his neck. As he did he heard a voice.

"Perhaps next time we listen to the more experienced one of us, hmm?"

"I'm going to ignore your stupidity," Jenadar replied.

"What stupidity? Are you saying this cause I'm a sword? Is that it?"

Jenadar sighed.

"No."

"Then why say..." the sword prodded.

Jenadar ignored the question.

"You know I'm gonna just keep asking," the sword said.

Jenadar growled in frustration.

"Whatever Majiak or Teknologee that made you should have made you mute."

The sword scoffed.

"And have the world miss my singing voice? Haha, not bloody likely."

Jenadar rolled his eyes.

"If you keep your mouth shut maybe I can sell you to some nice rich merchant, or maybe a king."

"As if they can afford me. I, Deradill, one of the Singing Swords, am priceless," Deradill answered.

"Well, truth be told, I would trade you in for a Wind Bike or Thrator mount right about now."

"And I would trade you for one of those female Long Rangers. They know how to take care of their equipment. Keeping me in this ragged ass scabbard, the shame."

Deradill muttered something else, but Jenadar didn't hear him. Instead, his ears had picked up a slow dull hum. It was faint but getting closer.

"Fuck. Raiders."

Jenadar spit as four small dots appeared on the horizon. They were on something, but the hazy shimmering heat didn't show what until they got closer. They were on these black vehicles that tapered to a long nose, and the back was rounded out. The seats were sunken and they straddled them. There were two stubby wings on the front and two on the back.

The riders were dressed in black rope and uncured iron. The ropes covered their most private parts and feet, and several pieces of iron were strapped to their shoulders and chest. Their faces were heavy with black paint streaked across them. There were three men, all with black hair cut on one side, and there was one woman, her head shaved save for a small knot atop her head. They carried long spears of bone stained with dried blood.

"Ohh shit," Deradill's voice sounded in Jenadar's head.

"I hate when you communicate with thought speak," Jenadar thought.

"Ohbraga yesh na?" one of the men spoke, pointing his spear.

Jenadar shook his head to show he didn't understand him.

"Jusga gou Happbak?" another of them spoke.

"I think they are speaking Farlor," Deradill said.

"Whatever it is I don't understand it," thought Jenadar.

The woman leaned over her vehicle and spoke in the common tongue with a hard accent.

"You are in the Desert of the Mekai. You must pay a toll to cross."

Jenadar raised an eyebrow.

"That is funny cause I saw no sign."

The woman chuckled.

"The sandstorm must have knocked it down. Nonetheless, it will be 5 Crystios for the toll."

Jenadar noticed the bikes had encircled him.

"What if I don't have the 5?"

The girl shrugged.

"Then we just take what you do have."

"That would be a mistake," Jenadar's voice went low.

"Hoga thir optioo Goder Las," one of the other riders spoke to the woman, who raised her hand and shook her head.

"My tribemate wants to kill you and take your stuff, but I feel you will hand them over, yes?"

Deradill and Jenadar laughed.

"You feel wrong, and the day is too hot to stand here talking. Let me go or make your move."

The woman cracked a smile and raised two fingers.

One of the bikes roared to life. A sharp whistling sound was heard, and the rider fell over dead.

Jenadar's laser pistol was in hand, and its deadly red beam had punched a hole into the rider before he could move.

There was a moment of shock, then the other three bikes roared to life and came at Jenadar.

was reading the book Heroes Must Die, and the opening scene hooked me. I realized how much I enjoy opening scenes that drop you right into the action, or just after it. To me, it's like, "Okay, what happened to get here?" or "What just happened?" It makes me want to read more.
But I know others may prefer a different opening. Maybe action is too disorienting for a first foray into a new story, and so I wanted to see what other types of openings work for others.

As the title says Artists what have you had to change in terms of AI now being around? Have you had to lower your prices? Or maybe change up styles ? How much have commissions been affected?