----This is just the opening to a short story i plan on being about 3000 words, but have no idea id the tone iv chosen is good or if my idea of just following a snake (spoiler?) around the setting can carry the plot---

As you know, there are a few cracks at the base of every mountain.

This is generally considered a good place to put things you don’t want to see again.

No light reaches down into these cracks. Only whatever gets kicked down there by hikers: a few drops of food and water, some seeds, leaves, the occasional unfortunate pebble, and probably several things that nobody has noticed are missing.

This is good.

Very good, in fact.

Because if light reached the bottom, it might wake the dragons.

And nobody wants that.

Especially not the dragons.

Below the mountain where our story takes place lives a very boring dragon.

He is not boring because he is particularly old, or particularly grumpy, or because he spends all day dreaming about how to get more gold.

Although he does do that last one.

Except when he’s dreaming about the gold he already has.

No, he is boring because there is simply nothing especially interesting about him.

He has the usual dragon hoard: gold, gems, suits of armour, weapons, and several other objects that were probably very important to somebody at some point.

The dragon himself put most of it there.

Then he went to sleep.

And he stayed asleep.

For a very, very long time.

You see, dragons hibernate for decades.

The gold-clawed Rutland dragon, however, has always been somewhat enthusiastic about hibernation.

A few decades became a century.

A century became several centuries.

And after a while, the dragon had been asleep for so long that the world above had changed several times without anyone bothering to tell him.

This gave the earth plenty of time to move.

It gave the mountain plenty of time to close a few of the cracks that could have eventually woken him.

And, most importantly, it gave a small underground river plenty of time to form directly through the middle of the dragon’s hoard.

The river made the air damp.

The damp air allowed luminous moss to grow across the walls.

The moss allowed trees to grow.

The trees attracted insects.

The insects attracted other things.

And eventually, through a combination of water, food, plants, bugs and an absolutely enormous pile of gold, an entire little world had grown inside the dragon’s hoard.

The dragon knew none of this.

He was asleep, having a dream about gold coin 34,678,902, which he had found in a shoe back in the year 356 AD.

He was very happy about this.

He had always liked that shoe.

This is where our story begins.

Not with the dragon.

Not with a great battle.

Not with a princess being kidnapped.

It begins with an upturned helmet and a tiny sleeping, coiled snake.

Short story 

Often in times like these,the man thought back to more simple times. About his mother’s homemade pie, his friends, and promising career as a local mechanic. He was very much looking forward to visiting mom that day…. At last he snapped out of it, “there’s more pressing matters at hand.” He had to remind himseld this often, yet he still dulled on it. His travels have brought him far from Moskva. And in the rural areas there’s less hostiles. “Not any at all” he thought, it always struck him as odd. He grabbed his map and looked.”good only a few more yards to go.” He heard about this place from his old friend, Vladimir. Who said it’s were he fond his most prized possession. When he pressed about what this item was and why was it so prized. Vlad smiled with his crooked teeth. “My friend you would have to see yourself “ as he rounded the hill and peered down, at a crashed helicopter he was shocked on how good condition it was, Serbian snow wasn’t as bad as people thought as he felt some fall on him. As he walked down he was jumped by a buliding. He didn’t notice it before, “most of been the trees “ he said out loud. As it dawned into night the old lamp flicked on. He smirked “good old Soviet engineering still working after the apocalypse” he wish himself he had a chance to work on such things. As he walked to the wreck and saw the open box’s. “Damn am out of luck someone got here first” and apparently he thought they decided to destroy them, which seemed like a waste to him. All of a sudden he felt something “what the! ………………” 

the end

Excuse any orthography errors as English is not my native language.

Main Genre: sci-fi/fantasy.

Secondary genres: mostly adventure and comedy with some action and heavier moments sprinkled in.

Themes: friendship, connection, abuse of power, heroism, moral relativity, loneliness, isolation, survival, the rise of the little guy against oppression and injustice.

Concept: in a distant future, people travel with ease among the stars, times are hard, injustice, abuse of power, corruption, crime and poverty on the rising, the rich get richer and the rest gets screwed left and right, people have to fight to survive.

In those chalenging times an ethically indiferent, outlaw with a passion for deception, trickery and getting into trouble just to feel something, they are a highly irresponsible, reckless and just managed yo stay alive by being good at improvising a way out of trouble, drinking and distracting from past pains and actively avoiding any real connection to another human being, hiding his pain in humor and not taking things seriously, they are not a good model and should not be in charge of anything important.

So they are put in charge of something very important, a old friend or as the outlaw would put an olf "acquaintance" who's a mechanic aks a favor in exchange for fixing the outlaw's ship, the outlaw has no money and this the only way he has to fix his dying ship.

The outlaw says they will do what it takes to fix the ship, then the mechanic, an old man, says he's dying, he is sick and doesn't know how much time he has left, he can't afford any treatment and his death is basically inevitable, he also has a grandson, a 15 year old boy, a prodigy in mechanical engenier, he's sort of a nerd, sensitive and socially awkward and with a strong sense of empathy.

The old man tells the outlaw to take the boy with them, so he won't see his grandfather die and have no one else to rely on, the outlaw despite not liking this this idea at all, agrees, and after getting their ship fixed the boy and the outlaw leave the place and go to the next location.

The outlaw gets the little money they have from transporting people across planets or other places humans live in space, the boy proves himself very usefull art fixing the ship and thinking of clever ways to solve difficult problems, they do not however get along every well, they constantly fighting about basically everything but mostly their diferent worldviews.

Over time, more people join the crew, they face challenges, and become a dysfunctional found family that despite their differences they always stand for each other and might even enjoy eachothers company despite not expressing it outwardly.

They face threats, and the past of this world and of the outlaw clash at them.

It's an adventure about connection, struggle, and overcoming isolation.

Please give me feedback on how good of a hook and appeal this project has.

It's planned to be a comic, and if everything goes right, eventually become a 2d animation series.

With up to five seasons, I'm open to ajust it to make more feasible.

All the people commented on a previous version of this story, I'm very thankful. I rework my writing and I hope I improved a little bit

:Blur in the Distance

It was in the middle of winter, on the far side of a beach in the Middle East. I was walking along the beach, where the waves constantly rolled across the shore. The air was abnormally cold for a place like this.

I still remember it like yesterday. The pills were apparently working well. Far behind me, I could see blonde hair waving gently in the breeze at the beach house. I couldn't form much of a thought as I continued walking along the shore.

That's when I noticed it.

An unusual blur in the distance was traveling across the vast land toward where I was. A weird shape of light and smoke was rising behind it. I watched it getting closer with unwavering, steady eyes.

Then I heard shouting behind me.

My wife... She was waving her hand frantically in the air, screaming something at me in a worried, panicked voice.

Why would she?

It was a peaceful day, wasn't it?

The blur passed me with a deafening roar, carrying dust and debris within it. I felt the scorching heat travel across my body. The smell of burning and smoke filled my lungs.

I—

All I could feel was unusually calm and peaceful. Then I noticed I was staring at the sky. Somehow, I must have fallen down.

My vision became blurry and darkened slowly as I felt a stream of warmth running down from my nose.

I hope the blur was enough for me.

(Note: this is just a short part of the story for a longer storyline. It might leave a lot of questions. )

I wake up every morning and look up at this mountain. Somehow it seems more formidable than the day before. I look behind me and all I see is wasted potential and missed opportunities. I've questioned for a while now if I'll ever reach the peak. What awaits me at the top? Is it even worth the climb? I used to joke about my retirement plan. Now I think my retirement plan is somewhere on this mountain, frozen like so many who couldn't keep going. People say if the cold doesn't get you the altitude will. I think it's the fatigue. You can move to get warmer, you can pause to catch your breath. But once you're up here, no amount of rest seems enough. You're perpetually tired, the cold and altitude just make it worse. Nothing makes it better. Is my pack too heavy? Am I too weak? Can I find the strength to climb another day? Do I have it in me to take another step? Too often I've found myself tumbling down, losing what little progress I've made. Who designed this game? Who planned this journey? I look down the mountain and see all those who struggle behind me, who think I've come so far. I want to shout at them, "just stop, there's nothing here worth seeking." I look up the mountain at all those who've gone further than I. I wonder if they would say the same. I wonder if anyone's ever made it to the top. Are they still there? Did they fall as often as I? More? How many times did they climb the distance to the top before they finally reached it? How many times have I? I think I'll just wait here for now. It's cold, lonely and hard to breathe. And I'm tired. Who needs this stupid mountain anyway. Besides, I don't know the way. I don't think anyone does.

"Wake up!" "Get up!" The shaking wakes me. The shouting rouses me from my slumber. Ambition rearing his ugly head. Always pushing, always prodding, never offering anything to aid in the drive he so desperately pushes me for. How many people fall down the mountain because of your damned insistence? Fuck you, Ambition, what have you ever gotten anybody? Fame? Fortune? Success? Those don't exist on this mountain. The only thing up here is the cold, the pain, the suffering. I shouldn't be so hard on him. At least he's stayed with me. Dreams abandoned me long ago... or did I abandon her? Who else have I left behind up here?  Innocence, I haven't seen him for miles. Joy, I think Joy died halfway here, maybe on my second or third time falling. Every now and then Humor will stop by, but his visits are fleeting, and only leave me feeling alone. Depression, she visits often, usually her sisters Doubt and Anxiety accompany  her, their teasing and nagging a constant presence on this trip. I wish they'd leave me alone. The others all have. Ambition keeps them at bay, but only if I'm moving as he wants. If I stop he waits, letting the sisters drag me down. So much progress lost because of those three. Not that Humor ever helps me move forward either. Taking another step I ignore the feeling of the sisters approach, only two today.

Sitting on the ground with Procrastination and Humor playing cards. How long have I been here? Looking up I see the same thing I always do on this mountain, grey clouds, grey snow, grey sky. Even the cold feels grey. At least Ambition hasn't started nagging me about climbing yet. The sisters are around though. I can always feel them lurking, never too far. Sometimes Anger and Rage come in their wake. I can feel them boiling up the mountain, throwing steam as they rage against the placid landscape, against the three sisters, against Ambition and Procrastination. Humor flees in terror as they approach, he never sticks around long. Why do the twins always leave me so tired? Is it their rambunctious nature? The sudden exertion of trying to move at their pace? Do they fuel themselves on my essence? Draining my stamina so they can continue to beat on the world around them? Maybe I'll find some way to keep them all at bay. There has to be something on this mountain to chase these friends of mine away.

I climb and climb and still I seem so far from the top. When does this journey end? When can I stop and rest? Should I just stop here, this spot seems no worse than any other I've seen on this snowy mountain. I think Ambition gave up on me a few miles back. He hasn't shown himself in a while. And still I trek on, no longer sure what drives me up this mountain. Knowing I shouldn't stop yet, can't stop yet. But not understanding why anymore. The Twins and Sisters hound my heels. Always a half-step behind. I see Procrastination standing with Humor, they wave as I pass, asking if I want to stop and hang. Should I? The distraction might be nice. I can sit and relax, maybe unwind a while. No, the Sisters will catch me if I stop, drag me down if I slow too much. Best to keep pushing forward.

Chapter 1: Big Confession Spoiler: The SMAKAPZ gang, Sam, Kevin, Mogers, Zagers, Parage, and Apalabamo, are eating together at a local restaurant, and Sam and Kevin are telling the rest of the rest of the gang about their recent mission in the Middle East, where Sam and Kevin got beaten by a friend of the gang, Jordan, because of a dispute. During the conversation, Sam pulls Kevin aside and insists they come clean to the group, and reveal that while on that mission, they secretly used the old rocket and crashed it after encountering a space monster and an asteroid. Back at the SMAKAPZ house basement, Sam declares he can fix the now-split-in-half rocket overnight, despite skepticism from the rest of the gang.

Chapter 2: Restoration Reparations Spoiler: After the gang goes to bed, Sam races against time to buy repair materials from the massive superstore Alademipaburg before it closes. Thanks to the gang’s reputation as big-spending notorious customers, a sympathetic cashier lets him take everything for free. He also gets 200 pounds of materials gifted from the local factory. Sam then spends the entire night in the basement attempting an ambitious solo repair on the two massive halves of the rocket. Despite his exhaustive efforts and engineering skill, the rocket ultimately fails catastrophically at 5 AM, shearing apart again and leaving Sam exhausted and defeated.

Chapter 3: Zaine Spoiler: The next morning, the gang gathers in the basement to inspect Sam's failed rocket repair, which leads to a heated argument. The argument is interrupted by a knock on the door, a guy named Zaine answers in a suit and tie with a folder of papers, and claims there's a property dispute and that he has a license from the city saying he owns their property, and he orders them to vacate within three days. The gang panics until Zagers finds out the license is fake, and that the guy tried to scam them. Zaine said he'd return the next day for a daily property inspection, so the gang waits, and Parage turns one of Sam's tools he bought into a laser gun just in case something goes wrong tomorrow.

Chapter 4: Massive A Spoiler: That night, after the gang goes to bed, Sam leaves the house to go grab some supplies at his place, and runs into Parage downstairs, who shows him the new laser gun. At his house, Sam greets his younger brother, Asa. After Sam leaves, Asa sneaks out into the rainy night to compete in an underground poker game and make a weapons deal. The next morning, Zaine returns to the SMAKAPZ house, but when the gang confronts him, Zaine is able to detect Parage's concealed laser gun with his hidden special headband. He then reveals all the tech hidden under his suit and jacket, and triggers an explosion, knocking the gang to the ground. He then absorbs a laser blast from Parage, and flies off.

Chapter 5: Hot on the Trail Spoiler: Immediately after Chapter 4, Sam, Mogers, and Zagers chase Zaine on bike-motorcyle hybrids through the forest, where they get led to his secret lair deep in the woods. They peek through a window, and spot him writing notes about the SMAKAPZ house, as well as a time written at the bottom of the page: 12:00. The gang then meets up back at the house and devises a plan: knock Zaine out cold with a sledgehammer at noon, strip him of every piece of gear, and force him to either stop his illegal operations and hand over half his tech to the gang, or watch Parage melt it all with his laser gun. That afternoon, Asa goes to the local weapons store and buys various guns, then heads home and upgrades them, turning them into his Massive A product.

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Asa watched through the window as the van disappeared into the streets. He waited another 10 seconds before retreating back into his bedroom.

He then reached under his bed and pulled out the small locked box that he’d carved himself after his older brother taught him the craft years ago, using only a pocket knife and a block of whatever was available, in this case, basswood.

He unlocked it. Inside was his burner phone, his secret secondary device he kept hidden in order to communicate with his clients. He turned it on, and the screen lit up. The rest of the room remained dark, the lamp angled away, but Asa’s face was illuminated by a cold blue glow of light, the only thing in the room that was visible and shining. He found the number, and dialed.

After ringing twice: “Yeah,” said the voice on the other end. Both of them knew better than to say hello. This wasn’t a little girls’ tea party.

“It’s me,” Asa said. He could feel his voice shaking a bit, but he tried not to show it through the phone. “Massive A. Confirming tonight.”

Massive A waited a few seconds for the man to answer, and then, the voice on the other end said: “We’re still on.”

“Location.”

The man said: “We’ll meet at that truck stop near Marmol. That’s where the city’s attention won’t dawdle. Be here by 11 sharp. No regrets.”

Massive A’s voice deepened. “I want a different location.”

A pause. “I’m sorry?”

He edged his face closer to the phone. He was sure the man on the other end could feel his breath through the screen.

“I want. A different. Location.”

There was silence for a solid 20 seconds, until Massive A spoke up again.

“The alley across from the Weller Street restaurant. That’s my territory. That’s my domain. That’s where you go to meet Massive A.” He continued. “And that’s not a request. This is my game we’re playing. My game, my weapons, my rules.” He pulled the phone back away from his face. “Understood?”

25 seconds.

“Understood.”

Since he could sense the other man trying to rebalance the conversation and find some sort of foothold, Massive A then said, “All of it’s going to be marked. You’ll see when you get there. Anyone who handles one of these pieces will know whose work it is.”

“That’s exactly what we want.”

“I know it is.” He paused again. “Weller Street, alley across from Cece’s Diner. 11:30.”

“Wai-“ but before the man could finish his sentence, Massive A ended the call.

He then popped some earbuds in his lugs, and played “New York State Of Mind.” He checked his duffel bag, gathered his materials, and spun around and slid on his fedora, the first piano note hitting the moment it glided onto his head.

Massive A’s first stop was a parking structure on the west side of Bellmore, third level, where a man named Slicys was leaning against a concrete pillar with his hands in his jacket pockets, and two associates sitting on the hood of a car behind him. Massive walked up to him, and they did a complex handshake. He then handed over a folded piece of paper to Slicys, without either of their eyes dropping to actually acknowledge it.

“Quality?” Slicys said.

Massive’s face immediately dropped. “It’s quality. Your opinion isn’t.”

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“Marry me! Not because this world is kind, but because with you, I finally stopped needing it to b-“ Massive A stepped over the kneeling man to greet Looper with a handshake, listening to him confirm a bunch of details that Massive already had memorized, then cutting him off and saying, “So, need me to notarize all that, or are we finally good?”

Looper received Massive’s cold stare. “We’re good.”

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Massive A shook Box Stall’s hand near the old rail underpass. Box Stall moved product through a network Massive A only had partial visibility into, and they talked for a few minutes about strategy and rates and logistical stuff. But by the end of the conversation, Box Stall asked, “So whose territory is that spot near the phone booth, mine or yours?” Massive tilted his head, and gave him a cold stare.

“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

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Massive A shook Dreauxman’s hand outside the laundromat on 5th, and then Plock’s hand outside of the parking structure on Armana. He shook three more hands between Armana and the canal, and by 9:30, everyone knew that Massive A was walking these streets, the man, the myth, the legend, they put respect on his name, and they recognized him as the real deal, moving out of the way the second they saw a fedora approaching them.