Whill Shaman Dažbog
Master Moderator 
Water is the most important element of life. For without Water, you cannot make Coffee.
Posts: 1,451
Affiliation: Ancient Order of the Whills
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Post by Whill Shaman Dažbog on May 9, 2013 6:29:09 GMT -8
The Upper City was one of the metropolises that covered the city world Taris. The Upper City featured the towering glittering spire shaped skyscrapers that dominated the planet's landscape.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 25, 2013 11:10:01 GMT -8
The next day, the platoon commanded by Lt. Plotika made its way north into the Upper City. The Lower and Middle Cities were secured, the Under City was quite arguably the most protected of them all thus far and it was therefore the directive of Lt. Plotika to bring Republic control into the Upper City.
Taris, at that point, was immersed in a bitter humocentric state wherein the human upper-class shunned, with tangible ferocity, the lower class of the planet. The lieutenant thought very little of this place and its inhabitants regardless of social class. It was not a hate, it was simply a nearly indifferent disregard for a planet that appeared, to him, to be a sick and dying version of the great city-planet of Coruscant. Zan knew, however, that it was arguably one of the many reasons why Taris appeared to be a depressed, whimpering widow. A planet suffering the loss of relevancy all while facing famine, civil war and a shortage of resources. Although there was some beauty to this place, he supposed. Just after dawn, the sleepy sun stretched out slowly across the skies bathing the buildings in a golden glow and touching gently the scenic, though polluted, waters of this forlorn planet. The natural beauty, easily observed and appreciated by a man who did not have to live in this otherwise disconsolate planet, reminded the young lieutenant of home, on Alderaan in some very faint ways. If you squinted. And were drunk.
Plotika felt blessed to have been born and raised within the Core Worlds. He was a fortunate man indeed. When Zan's thoughts settled on his youth, almost immediately were they jerked to that of his son. Zan missed him dearly and loved still his wife. If only he could become successful in war and in business and earn the respect of his family, he would be complete. It was a foreign feeling for the young, average, lieutenant who was used to the adoration of his father and mother growing up. The burdensome weight of failure was more than he could stand and it riddled him with unspeakable anxiety. It was a boulder slowly crushing his spirits.
Elsewhere, within the orbit of Taris, sat two lieutenant commanders who peered, absent of mind, into the abyss of space. The stars, numerous and bright, seemed to return the gaze of the young, fresh-faced lieutenant commanders. They were young men as well, jovial and relatively at ease considering the impressive display of strength and cunning that was able to emerge victorious in the conflict with the Neo-Crusaders less than twenty-four standard hours prior.
They were both born and raised in Coruscant though they knew not of each other previously, before they joined the Navy. The first lieutenant commander was a short and stocky, good-hearted slob, named Gordon Duo. The second was Jom Farroq though they had a few similarities, in person of their physique, outside of that they were incredibly different from each other. First instance, their voices. The former’s was raspy and the latter’s somewhat soft for a man’s. It is important to highlight another trait where the two were extremely different from the other, and that was their hair. Duo had auburn hair and was, by all accounts, much more agreeable to the eyes. In fact, Duo was quite the lady’s man as he was rarely found without a female on his arm in the different cantinas and taverns across the galaxy. Some of the others within the Navy who knew of Duo would often joke about trying to guess the number of broken hearts left scattered across the galaxy in Duo’s wake. Farroq, on the other hand, effeminate in voice and rather unkempt was a bit awkward to behold and thus was rarely found with an interested lady, intellectually or otherwise, that did linger about him. Nevertheless, the two were good friends.
=Lt. Commander Farroq=
“The Neos aren't comin’ back. I don’t know why the Admiral is having us dock here.”
Lt. Commander Duo looked over to Farroq and gave a lazy nod of his head before returning his gaze to the stars outside.
=Lt. Commander Duo=
“Yeah, I agree. What a waste of time. If they really wanted to end the war sooner, they would have advanced. Makes you wonder why they want to prolong this conflict, doesn’t it?”
Lt. Commander Farroq nodded as well, in a similar half-hearted fashion and grunted what could easily be discerned as affirmation; an agreement of his friend’s words. Not a second after that non-verbal agreement were the two interrupted by the sound of someone standing behind them whom had just cleared his throat. Startled as all hell, they were quick to their feet and, once they saw who it was that stood before them, their eyes were wide with fear. Lt. Commanders Duo and Farroq had their hearts in their respective mouths when their eyes fell upon Admiral Varr who stood before the two with his arms behind his back.
In Admiral Varr’s usual voice, of clear indication of a person who smoked incessantly, though a bit softer than normal, the Admiral replied to his subordinates.
=Admiral Varr=
“It does make you wonder why we weren’t allowed to advance. However as you know, I am not the Supreme Commander of the Republic Forces.”
The Admiral said with a smile and a wink from his left, uncovered, eye. It was clear he eager to give off that he had taken no offense to their conversation.When Lt. Commander Farroq desperately tried to find his words and apologize, with Lt. Commander’s own echo of an apology not far behind, Admiral Varr waved it off jovially with flick of his wrist.
“I can certainly understand the questions, boys. No offense taken. Besides, it wasn’t my call. Anyways, enough of that. I only stopped by because I am looking for you, Duo. You’ve been given a new assignment that I wanted to personally deliver.”
Admiral Varr handed over a slip of paper to Duo. The Lt. Commander was quick to open it and inside he found the official seal of the Republic Navy and the signature of the Admiral that stood before him. Upon completion of reading the paper, Duo’s eyes returned to Varr.
“I am to go to the Under City?” Asked Duo
“That’s right, son. However, that’s not why I wanted to hand deliver this to you.” Replied the Admiral.
“Oh?” Duo asked, clearly confused why a seemingly basic re-assignment would warrant a personal visit from the Admiral.
Varr looked to Farroq and kindly asked him if he might have a moment alone with Duo. Farroq respectfully saluted his superior officer and made himself scarce, relieved that he faced no reprimanded for openly questioning the orders of Central Command.
Once Farroq was out of sight and after the Admiral looked around to see if he could spy any other person within an ear-shot of this conversation, the highest decorated officer in the Navy of the Republic spoke quietly to the young Duo.
“Duo, I like you so I wanted to be the first to offer *confidential* advice to you as you embark on this new assignment of yours.” Varr stated with a clear sternness to his voice. “Heed my words, son. Watch yourself around Shkuratov and his boy. You got that? You’re only being sent down as a representative from the Navy as the General requested one be present whilst we try to stabilize this area. Observe much and say little. When in doubt, have the General conference with me. You got that?”
Clearly confused, Duo did not know what to say. It was an honor to be respected to the point that he might serve on General Shkuratov’s personal staff. It was rare to be granted such an opportunity to potentially counsel the Supreme Commander of the Republic Forces. However, the gravity and austere words of the Admiral were certainly not lost on him and it was the precipice for this aforementioned bewilderment for which the Lt. Commander could only issue a half-hearted, clumsy, reply of “Yes...sir?”
“Listen to me, Duo. This is a temporary position for you. It’s just until we can stabilize a few things here and then you’ll be reassigned, most likely back to me. Regardless, if you stick it out and be weary of Shkuratov and his son, who is to say what you might be promoted to? Possibly a Captain or Rear Admiral if he likes you enough.” Duo’s ears nearly jumped up with delight. A Captain? A Rear Admiral? The possibilities could be endless for Duo then. The fame, the glory, the honor - all of it could be his. It was this lust for achieving rank and power, and with it the endless influence and respect, that Duo focused on more than the advice of Varr, though he heard it. Duo nodded his head and replied to his Admiral “Yes. Yes, sir. Of course. When do I leave?” asked the young Lt. Commander; to which Admiral Varr replied. “At once.”
Proudly and with great joy, Duo saluted Varr. With a smile, from ear to ear, Duo said “Thank you, sir. I promise, I won’t let you down.” Admiral Varr nodded his head, convinced that Duo heard him but unsure if his words meant much to the young soldier - only time could tell.
And with that, he turned around and walked briskly back to his quarters to inform Farroq, pack his things and catch a shuttle to escort him down to the Under City where operations for Taris’ liberation were headquartered.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2013 12:28:26 GMT -8
Throughout the arduous trek northward into the Upper City, some of the comrades of Madaris found themselves, absent of mind at times, staring at the man himself with great pity. The silence between them all felt necessarily obligatory. Not a single one of them knew what to say to their brother-in-arm, their friend, Mike Madaris.
Vlad Phi, Mike’s nearest and dearest of comrades in this war, was officially classed as “missing in action” but presumed to be deceased. All but four bodies were recovered from what was assumed to be an ambush by some of the Neo-Crusaders and the young Phi, and three others, were not recovered. And though many of the men in this army, within this platoon, had lost friends there was a close, genuine kinship that existed between Phi and Madaris.
The platoon made camp, on the outskirts of the Upper City on Taris, that night. From what they could see, the Upper City was relatively unblemished by the war. Lt. Plotika scrutinized what very little he could discern from the far-out distance at which they stood relative to the Upper City itself. Rather than push his troops though the Upper City, he elected to give them a night’s rest. They were already ahead of schedule. Plotika had heard stories about Taris and its fierce, unforgiving class warfare that was waged, daily, in the most asinine and humiliating ways on the poor. What limited resources existed on this planet, were instantly hoarded by the rich at the expense of the poor. Plotika hoped, with any luck, the emergence of Taris into the Republic might spare anymore loss of life to starvation, suicide or any of the abysmal fates that seemed to laughingly linger over the body of a poor person.
It is important to know, dear Reader, that it is true. Taris was admitted into the Republic in 3,966 BBY. However, in the five years since admittance, the depressed city-planet was slow to adopt the policies and rules that came with membership into the Galactic Republic. They still had slaves, for starters, and it was commonly understood that their membership was rushed based more so on corporate interest rather than humanitarian ones. The real change would have to come after Taris was secured and the Neo-Crusaders defeated and The Exchange dismantled. It was a work in constant progress and, this time, the Republic sought to remedy the situation: hence the *Second* Battle of Taris.
The camp, that Lt. Plotika ordered erected for the night, was enormous. The platoon that Plotika directly oversaw numbered to nearly one-thousand. It was almost double that but the losses they suffered in the Second Battle of Taris dwindled the numbers, though it still left them in a position to be a formidable force, should the Upper City prove to have any cells of Neo-Crusaders or, the pesky criminal organization, The Exchange. The lieutenant retired for the evening to his quarters as soon as his thoughts drifted to thinking about the cruel life of a poor person, but not any person, he was concerned with himself. Plotika closed his tent when he had decided that he was alone and, he combed through his pocket, until his hand stumbled upon his com-link. Plotika pulled it quickly from his pocket as though it was a weapon and he stared at it, sweat started to seep through the pores of his forehead.
At one part of the camp, sat a group of no more than fifteen men – Madaris being one of them; they discussed a wide range of things before their conversation, almost inevitability, landed on the conversational topic of their enemies; the Mandalorians. Kindly and with no malice, one of the members of the platoon tried to be diplomatic and optimistic when he offered some hallow words to Madaris, he hoped they would provide Mike some solace. “Maybe Phi is being held prisoner?” The soldier proposed out-loud. The young Madaris looked to him and did not scowl, nor smile. In fact, there was very little emotion on his face at all. Mike simply nodded his head as if to say “Yeah, maybe” though the words would not escape his lips. Instead, the young Madaris, tired and dirty from the day, rose from his seat in the dirt and made his way back to his tent. The nervous eyes of the others huddled around the small fire danced to and fro amongst each other.
Mike wished not to be rude or stoic. He simply had no desire to partake in conversations such as those. The ones that soldiers tell themselves and each other to bring optimism into something that could optimistic – war. Regardless, from everything Mike had learned, or could learn, about the enemy whilst he studied about them in the Academy; it seemed that Mandalore the Ultimate did not take prisoners. These Neo-Crusaders were warriors in the most pure and brutal sense of the word.
The young Private, en-route to his own tent, came upon the tent of Lt. Plotika and as he heard the Lieutenant on the phone, Mike stopped in his tracks. Initially, it was out of harmless curiosity but it took him a few seconds before he had to look around to make sure no one was coming by or spying on him, as he spied on Plotika. From inside the tent, Mike heard in a sort hushed, whispered kind-of screaming, “I don’t know! There’s about thirty of them. How am I supposed to know? Look. Look. Look. All I know is this: they are supposed to be released again. They’re citizens of the Republic technically but I can give you…I don’t know! I can’t worry about the logistics. Do you have any idea what would happen to me if it was discovered that I am giving you these…people? Uh-huh. I can’t give you more than half of what I got. I might even get some more too so let me get back to you tomorrow night and we can see who else we have. But listen. I want top-credit for them. I need the money. I have to…yeah, we can talk about it tomorrow. Okay.”
Mike’s eyes were wide as he listened in crippling disbelief. His heart seemed to nearly pump through his chest before he gathered himself and quietly stepped away from Lieutenant Plotika’s tent. Mike didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know who he could tell. He couldn’t tell anyone! Who would believe him? Wait, maybe he heard wrong. Yes, he was mistaken. All would be fine when, tomorrow, they would enter the Upper City, release the slaves and carry on with the rebuilding mission. It would be fine. Right?
What if it’s not? What would he do? Mike did not know if he could turn the other cheek on this one or if he could Court Marshal a superior officer. The reprimand that Mike might face for squealing on a superior officer would follow him throughout his career. On that night, Madaris elected to do nothing and simply sleep on it. He would allow what happened the next day to dictate how he would handle the situation. Mike could not think of anything better to do. The young, eighteen year old Private, had never been put in a situation like this before and he loathed it. His stomach was made sick from the very thought of this and he felt nauseous. Madaris quietly slipped into his own tent to retire for the evening with a plethora of thoughts on his mind.
~~Elsewhere in the Outer Rim aboard the main ship for Mandalore the Ultimate~~
In a dark, foul smelling cell, Vlad Phi lay half-conscious and shivering. Around him were three men, though only two were still alive. The third was someone from the Republic Army that he knew. The corpse was that of another eighteen year old Private, same as he, that Phi was somewhat familiar with from the Academy. There was a wound that seemed to originate from the corpse’s right leg. Phi looked at it, horrified until that horror was replaced by the startling jolt of hearing another voice call out to him from the cell, and it made Phi realize that he was not alone.
“He bled out.” One of the other soldiers from the Republic stated. The soldier was a little older, or appeared to be as such. He sat with his back against the wall, knees bent and to the chest, with his arms wrapped around his legs. Vlad didn’t recognize him, though he was wearing the traditional Republic Uniform and appeared to have bled from his mouth and had a bandage that looked self-made, wrapped around his head. On his lapel, his rank was displayed by his badges – Staff Sergeant.
Phi was badly bruised and bloodied. In fact, he was coming to that very realization and decided to take inventory of himself. All of his appendages were still in-tact; his eyesight seemingly was fine though it was difficult to tell given how dark his quarters were.
“You and I were about the only ones to escape relatively unscathed…for now.” The soldier in the corner continued as his head motioned toward another soldier near the door to the darkened, chilled cell. Phi, still not saying a word, simply looked back toward the door and noticed a soldier who appeared to be a couple years older than he, clumsily feeling the wall to the cell for reasons unclear to the captured Phi.
“He’s blind and deaf.” The Staff Sergeant in the corner stated. “You’ve been out for a while.” He continued before his stream of consciousness detoured to thoughts of going home, to his family, on Coruscant,
“If I make it out here…I just want to make it out of here.” He said with great sadness as his head shook.
Phi was about to speak up before the door to the cell opened and Mandalorian Guards rushed in loudly, handcuffed the three of soldiers and dragged them out of the cell. They kicked the corpse for a moment before ultimately resigning and returning their attention to the prisoners. Phi’s eyes narrowed significantly as they were unaccustomed to the light. In front of him, was the Staff Sergeant he had just been speaking with moments prior and in front of the Staff Sergeant there was the blind and deaf soldier.
After a few moments, the guards stopped. They stood in line as they were; two guards per one prisoner with the blind and deaf soldier at the front of the line as mentioned. Everyone was silent until finally one Mandalorian came out from a side hallway. From his studies in the Academy, Phi knew it was most likely not the infamous Mandalore the Ultimate as he was clad in the traditional garb of a Neo-Crusader. He spoke only one sentence at the blind and deaf soldier.
“What do you know about a Super Weapon being developed by the Jedi?”
There was no answer until the Staff Sergeant called out toward the Mando’a who stood before them all, “He’s been rendered blind and deaf from the battle”, before being turned to one of the guards holding him and squarely back-handed across the face, which caused him to recoil back into the second guard. Phi began to uncontrollably shake due to intense nervousness.
The Mandalorian before them all turned from the Staff Sergeant to the blind and deaf soldier and stated, in Basic so that the other two would hear him, “Well then, he’s of no use to Mandalor”. The Mandalorian simply walked up to the deaf and blind soldier, removed his blaster from his holster and shot the soldier in the head, killing him instantly. The two guards carried him away, out of sight from the dizzy Staff Sergeant and the frightened Vlad Phi.
“If you prove to be of no use to us, you both will meet the same fate as your comrade.” The Mandalorian stated as he motioned for the guards to advance that held the Staff Sergeant.
“I hate looking at your uniform.” The Mandalorian turned and looked to the guards who proceeded to strip the Staff Sergeant nearly bare. “Now, what do you know about the Super Weapon we have learned about being developed by the Jedi?” The Staff Sergeant replied back instantly, “We both know about it. Phi and I. We both know. You cannot kill us both as we’ll both be of use!”
The Mandalorian in charge looked to Phi and motioned for his guards to bring him forward. “Is this true, boy?” The Mandalorian inquired at Phi. Nervously, Phi shook his head and replied, eager to save his life and the Staff Sergeant’s “Yes, yes it is. I swear it.”
The Mandalorian in charge smiled and paced back to the Staff Sergeant. “I like him. I don’t like you and we don’t need both of you if you both know. One of you will be sufficient.” Upon saying as much, the very same Mandalorian walked up to Phi, stood him up on his feet, removed his binds and placed in his hand a six-inch blade.
“Kill him, boy and I’ll let you live. Refuse and I’ll kill you both.” The Staff Sergeant flinched and tried to get away before being restrained and held in place by his guards after they whacked him a few more times about the head.
“Honor! Have honor!” the Staff Sergeant screamed out as he pleaded to Phi who had just started to slowly advance toward him. The catalyst Mandalorian laughed as he watched this; the guards joined in as well with their own smirks.
Phi’s hands trembled greatly and the young soldier wanted to vomit. This went against everything taught in the Academy, everything he had ever learned to be true about glory and honor; the immortality of being a valiant soldier. However that’s all those things were to him now – stories. Vlad was legitimately afraid for his life. The young, eighteen year old, didn’t know what to do. When the Mandalorian in charge noticed that Vlad had stopped, thereby had taken far too long to give them all the gratification they had wished to witness he called out to his men. “Kill them both.”
Phi could hear the blasters be removed from their holsters and could feel the blaster kill him though a single shot was not fired. He did not want to die. Phi closed his eyes with every fiber of energy he had and screamed out, “NO!” and lunged forward toward the Staff Sergeant and stabbed him once in the neck. Phi then removed the blade and stabbed the Staff Sergeant eight more times throughout his body before the young Private threw the blade aside, and wept out loud. The Mandalorian in charge of this operation motioned for the guards to take Phi back to his cell whilst he laughed that Phi’s pain and the events that had occurred in front of him just moments prior.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
Member
Figuring things out...
Posts: 239 
Affiliation: Anything that abhors violence
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 20, 2013 6:02:36 GMT -8
Well, the landing is as uneventful as expected. Considering how I can see things in slow motion, my reflexes are pretty good, and so is the ship’s. Having performed the procedure and process dozens of times, I am pretty confident on being able to get this far without an accident, at least. But that sense of foreboding I have while in orbit? It just increased tenfold. Whatever I’m expecting to happen, is definitely going to happen here. The ship lands, and I sigh. Limey warbles a query as to whether I’m all right. I look at it, not really bothering to answer. It’s used to that, and just follows me to the boarding ramp. When I wordlessly head outside it gives a shrill call, and I cringe. It knows how sensitive my hearing is, and it knows how to get my attention. I turn to look at it witheringly, “What, Limey?”
It sings a series of whistles and squeals, basically telling me to make sure I eat my three meals, wash behind my ears, brush my teeth...need I go on? I’m starting to wonder if Limey’s an R2-series astromech droid or a nanny. It then turns and rolls back into the ship. I roll my eyes and mutter under my breath, “Yeah, whatever, mother.” Limey whistles and tells me that it saw and heard that, and only then I notice with my “superior” eyesight that it had its single photoreceptor focused on me the whole time. I blush, and quickly leave the spaceport. Yep, I got embarrassed by a droid. That’s me. This happens like, all the time.
I pay the port official for the landing spot for my ship and the visitor’s fee, which pretty much depleted what was left of my credits. I don’t even have enough for fuel, maintenance or provisions. I definitely will need to find work here, which will give my sense of foreboding plenty of time to bring to fruition whatever is going to happen to me. Good thing I’ve become pretty adept at almost any line of work, especially farming. I even have some vehicles and tools for various odd jobs that I get from whatever planet I visit. It’s pretty much how I get by, though I might have an easier time here...yeah, dream on, Meony. I’ve never had it easy. But I guess there’s no harm in trying. Taris is where the Swoop Bike races is held. With my reflexes and “abilities”, maybe I can make some money...or play it safe and just find work with merchants or shops around here. Or maybe I’ll just do both. The way I estimate it, I’ll probably be here for about a month before I will have enough to be able to travel again, and this time, I’ll make sure I triple check the products I buy. I cannot take one more day with that green slop Limey calls food. I swear I’ll program it with the ability to taste and then force feed it the food, see how it likes it.
Bad Meony, bad bad bad bad. Yeah, I feel guilty for even thinking of hurting Limey like that.
Oh well, at least I feel better as I travel deeper into the Upper City, and I am soon amongst the crowds. Like whatever sickness had been afflicting me just left abruptly. I don’t care that the crowd is so thick I’m almost jostled a few times, I feel much better and somehow more...alive. I just don’t get it. I’ve had the Sunflower and its life support systems checked almost on every planet I land on, and all the technicians tell me the same thing: Not only is the systems one hundred percent, but it is like one of the most pristine and efficient systems that they have ever seen. So whatever is affecting me is still a mystery, but being on a living planet, surrounded by living people, is where I’m most comfortable. Strange for a socially awkward girl, but that’s just the way it is, I guess.
Now, to find work...
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Post by Seven on Jul 20, 2013 11:23:10 GMT -8
"Seal off the lower levels. Lock the blast doors and seal that thing in where we can kill it. I want all security diverted to intercept it, you hear me?!
"Yes, sir. Absolutely sir.
The young woman, Chel, pulled a comlink off her belt and began relaying her boss's orders to his security teams, or what was left of his security teams. Nearly half of them had already been wiped out by whatever this thing was that had attacked their main offices in the upper city. No one could say what it was exactly, everyone who got close enough to look ended up dead and the security cams fritzed out whenever it got close. That last bit alone indicated a droid of some kind, or at least someone with some pretty advanced tech at their disposal. Either way, this thing had wiped out three dozen men in the amount of time it took for the rest to start a response.
"Team nine, do you have a visual on the target?
Negative ma'am. The blast doors have sealed and I believe we have it tra... holy ****!
"Team nine, what is going on?"
It's ripping the ****ing blast door off its hinges! That door weighs two tons! OPEN FIRE!
Chaos erupted over the open comm, the sounds of blasterfire and shouted orders assaulting the ears of Chel and Maks until the noise was overpowered by some sort of electrical static just before the line went dead.
"****! ****ing ****ed ****er!"
"Sir! The doctor said to watch your blood pressure!"
"Don't you ****ing tell me to ****ing watch my ****ing blood pressure! That THING just ripped a two ton door off its hinges for ****'s sake! AND WE DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT IS!"
"I'm sure it can be reasoned with, whatever it is. You're a very wealthy man. If it's here to collect a bounty on you, maybe you can pay it off. Or better yet, pay it to go kill whoever sent it in the first place!"
She was past the point of believing they would be safe in her boss's office, despite the fact that it had been outfitted with a full panic room suite, from the blaster-proof windows to the six inch impervium blast doors. This thing had already shown that it was more than capable of tearing the room apart, whatever it was. Maks leaned forward and put his hands on his desk, making a visible effort to calm himself.
"Who do you think sent it?"
The billionaire entrepreneur knew he had no shortage of enemies, but most of them would have attacked him with business deals or corporate espionage, not a literal ****ing assassin. It was ludicrous! Sure, he'd had ties with the criminal element back in the day, but he'd cut those years ago and they'd never even so much as hinted at attacking him for it. None of this made any sense. It wasn't the kind of threat he was used to dealing with, and he had no clue how to handle it.
"I don't know sir, but whoever it was clearly wants to send a message."
"No ****ing kidding! Get ready to set up a wire transfer. If this thing can be bribed, I want it gone as fast as possi..."
GROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAANNNNNNN
The room fell dead silent as the blast door protested against whatever unnatural force had seized it, and all twelve guards trained their weapons on it.
"How the **** did it get up here so fast! Miss Winsley, I appoint you lead negotiator. Guards!"
They moved fluidly, as only well trained and well acquainted soldiers could, and promptly surrounded the desk as Maks sat down behind it, shielding him with their bodies if need be, while leaving Chel standing out in front to face the thing alone.
She grit her teeth as the door began to buckle under the pressure, and knew that if it came to more violence, she would most certainly be the first to die. It was all but written in her job description, and she had been waiting for the day her boss would throw her to the wolves ever since she signed on. She knew the reputation he had, knew that he considered anyone and everyone expendable in his pursuit of power and wealth, but she had applied for the job anyway. Looking back, that was probably the worst decision of her life.
She stepped forward bravely as the door crumpled out of its frame and floated weightlessly forward and to the side, then froze and barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping open at what she saw.
"You're just a kid!"
The boy couldn't have been older than eighteen, and if you took away the pointed ears and silver hair and faintly glowing tattoos he looked like any other human teenager on Taris. His black leather outfit looked a bit like some form of supple armor, and the silver gauntlets covering his hands and forearms were the only indications that he was anything other than a weird alien kid, and she found herself entirely forgetting the carnage she had heard only moments ago. Surely this BOY couldn't have done that, could he? He's just dressed up to play a part, right? The real threat is somewhere else, and this is just a distraction.
Then her eyes met his, and there was no boy in them. They were not the eyes of an innocent child who had been coerced into playing a part, they were cold, dead eyes. Eyes that held no remorse, no pity, and no mercy. For the first time since this incident had begun, she knew in her heart that none of them would survive, and no amount of money or pleading could change that. Instead of trying to bargain as she had been told, she simply sank to her knees and began to cry. She didn't want to die, but she could think of nothing else to do.
"Chel! You useless piece of ****! OPEN FIRE!"
Before the guards could move to obey, the boy raised a gauntleted hand and squeezed it into a fist, the barrels of their weapons folding in on themselves and sealing tight as the blasters fired. A moment later as the barrels began to glow red hot from trying to contain the energy, the boy un-clenched his fist and extended his fingers toward the guards, sending rippling arcs of blue lightning into their bodies. It cut off a moment after and the men crumpled to the floor, miraculously still alive, and the boy waved his hand to the side, easily tossing Maks Gurgan's heavy desk across the room with his mind. The man's eyes grew wide at the display, and he tried to backpedal deeper into the chair he sat in. The boy's hand came up again and Maks floated out of the chair, no more of a burden than a feather.
"I don't know who sent you or how much they're paying, but whatever it is I'll double it! Triple it! All you have to do is kill them instead!"
The boy's eyes softened at that, no longer the eyes of a killer with no remorse. Suddenly, they were the eyes of a boy, tortured and filled with pain.
"I hate killing. Don't ask me to do that. I'll do whatever else you want, but please, just not that."
His voice was quiet, almost as if he wasn't speaking to the man in front of him, but rather to some memory from his past. Then the muscles beneath the collar around his neck tightened and his teeth ground together and eyes pulled shut in pain, and when they opened again the boy was gone. Replaced by the remorseless, merciless killer.
He raised his other arm toward the window as Chel watched from her knees and it shattered like so much ice, then gestured toward it with the arm that held her boss aloft and sent him flying out into the open space above the city.
I hate killing.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 20, 2013 13:35:12 GMT -8
Trouble finds you trouble finds you trouble finds you. Repeat until physically ill......oh who am I kidding?!? I'm already ill! What are the odds? Sense of foreboding? Going off like a five-alarm migraine.
Y'know, I figured I'd have like a month before shit hits the fan.
But guess what? Shit. Fan. Definite hittage.
Now.
Some days I hate being born.
Why am I ranting? Well look what's happening from the top floor of this building no more than a hundred feet from me. I saw it first, then I heard it. I see the glass bursting outwards. Signs of kinetic force as I do not see fire nor smoke. Perhaps a sonic weapon, but with my hearing, I'd know if it's sonic, and it's not. Concussion blast maybe. Whatever it was, there's millions of pieces of glass heading towards the crowds of people below.
Not good.
Oh joy, look, that's not all that's coming out of there. Big man in more ways than one. Expensive clothing, face that can look angry even when he's scared out of his pants. Definitely an important guy in the business line. Looks like he was thrown out. He must have annoyed a really strong person. This. Is. Insane. But I can't just do nothing. And there is unfortunately, no way I won't be seen doing what I’m about to do. But more importantly, I cannot do nothing. There’s lives at stake. Everything begins to slow down as I speed up. I just take in a breath, and my mind does the rest, almost on instinct. I hear the first screams as the citizenry notice the descending glass.
Well, I can at least try to conceal my face with my large, conical farmer’s hat. It’s wide and large, easily covering half my head. I pull up the collar of my tunic to help hide my face and body more. And I take off. Flying is not as easy as it looks. I have to clear my mind, visualize, and will my body off the ground. Usually it takes everything I’ve got to keep myself afloat, but now I’ve got to not only fly, but I’ve got to fly really fast! And I’ve got to use a few other tricks of mine that I don’t usually use at the same time. I push past the speeds I normally can achieve, and I’m over the people now. Turning around I begin to pinpoint and focus my vision on each and every single glass shard microseconds apart, and I intensify that focus, burning my eyes into those shards.
I can see the very molecules in the air and in the glass, and by concentrating my eyes, I can make those molecules spread apart, increasing the heat and temperature. Having achieved the desired temperature, those shards burst and shatter into billions of tiny grains of sand. Hot sand, but far more harmless sand nonetheless.
Now that that’s done, on with phase two, save the falling man. I rise up and then begin descending along with him, putting one hand on his back and the other under his legs, I slow our descent, until he’s gently lying in my arms. It looked funny I’m sure. This guy’s big! And I’m like four feet eleven inches, I look like a child. I keep my head lowered so as to shadow my face better, and the big hat kind of got in the guys face, so it’s all he’ll be seeing of me. I just prefer anonymity. I don’t need to be thanked for what I do when I do. It’s just doing the right thing.
When we land, I put him on the floor in a sitting position. It’s his lucky day. I should probably ask if he’s all right, but I think that’s a stupid question at this point. Even if he’s alive, he’s not okay. I can see that. He’ll need medical help soon. I turn to the nearest civilians, keeping my hat concealing my eyes at least, then I tell them, "Call the medics, this man needs help."
I actually could take him to the medical center myself, and I’d definitely be faster too, but I’ve got a big problem: Whoever threw this guy out might throw other people out too, and while I’m pretty fast, I just can’t chance I won’t be on time to catch another falling person. No, this needs to be nipped in the bud right now. And who better to scold said person than a flying girl? I bend my knees and leap into the air, letting go of my normal inhibitions that scream at me that people don’t fly if humans were meant to fly we would have wings and I am flying. Fast.
In a second, I’m already at the window where it happened. Oh yeah, glass was definitely blown out by some kind of kinetic force, but what kind? I don’t recognize it. And what a mess! These people will need a lot of medics!
Broken blasters (I hate those things), injured men, one very frightened woman, besides me. And there, standing amongst all that carnage relatively unaffected, is definitely the source of all this. I’m pretty sure the ringing in my brain that is screaming ‘run for your life Meony!!!’ is also a strong indicator that I’ve found the root of the problem. And instead of obeying my first instinct to fly away and not look back, dive under my bed and scream for Limey to get us out of here, I fly inside. I crunch the glass under my boots to get his attention, as if I’m desperate for his attention. I’d be happy if he doesn’t see me at all, but really...I’m not smart like that. See, in this regard, I’m supremely stupid, so I open my mouth.
"H-hey!" I call out, "Why are you throwing people out of windows?!? You could have hurt a lot of people with all that glass. And….and..."
And what? What the heck do I tell him? He doesn’t look much older than me...no wait, he looks older than me, like, late teens versus a preteen...and I’m still jamming up for a proper way to scold him. I’m probably at a loss for words because A) he’s a he, and B ) he really scares me right now.
"…don’t throw people out of windows, it’s rude!"
Yep, totally gonna finish with that.
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Post by Seven on Jul 20, 2013 16:49:28 GMT -8
The boy was halfway to the broken window when the girl appeared outside it, floating in midair. He inhaled sharply and took a step back as she floated into the room. Clearly, his target had survived and she was responsible. That meant she was an obstacle and had to be removed. But why? Why do I have to kill her? She's just a girl! I can't... AGHHHH!!! As if sensing his hesitation, the collar around his neck sent another jolt of pain through his body, though the only outward indication was the gritting of his teeth. The master wants her dead. I have no choice. But maybe if I... AGHHHH!!! A second jolt to cure his hesitation and his right hand shot up, spewing bright blue arcs of lightning at her small frame as she stood in front of him.
"AAAGHHHHHHH!!!"
The scream tore from his lips as the lightning coursed from his fingers and a new pain ripped through his body, assaulting his senses and mind and shattering his painstakingly constructed defenses. This was not the pain of the collar, that he had learned to push through and it would not have come while he was carrying out his orders. This was something else, something that turned his tattoos to fire and ice and screamed agony in his mind. The lightning cut off and he dropped to his knees, clamping his hands to the sides of his head until the new pain began to subside.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 21, 2013 1:32:06 GMT -8
"AAAAAHH!!!"
See? If I were smart, I probably would have seen that lightning coming. I ever mention how much lightning scares me? Because it hurts like a b-word!
OW I felt that!
OW Oh I really felt that!
OOOWWW! I felt that so badly I'm pretty sure my grandkids will feel that! Assuming I live long enough to have grandkids that is.
Oh don't worry, I'm doing the whole writhing on the floor, rolling around in pain, crying, screaming, begging for mercy, saying sorry and saying it's my stupidity, not him...anything to make the pain stop. And then...just like that, it stopped.
So what in the world made him stop? Not that I want more, and I'm smoking hot...not in a good way. I look up from where I'm lying on my back. Hey, check it out, he's got problems of his own too.
Okay, let's do a quick review while I still have some time, because I'm pretty sure if he hits me with that lightning again, I'm so dead. Before he had hit me with his lightning, I noticed a few things. One, I felt stronger somehow, and I don't even know why. No, it's definitely not because I'm attracted to him. Oh come on, be realistic! I just met him, he threw someone out a window, and he nearly killed me with lightning, no I do not like him. But I definitely felt tougher for a while, and then just before he attacked me, I noticed...facial expressions. He gritted his teeth while looking at me with consideration, it's almost as if he was internally arguing with his course of action. Almost...but I'm not that good at reading expressions once I'm thrown into a world of pain.
I'm feeling a lot of pain right now. My muscles are all throbbing and burning, and I feel like my insides want to be outside. I force them all down, this problem is getting stranger by the minute, and I'm not getting any smarter. What I'm about to do I call an act of faith, but others will call me stupid and probably say I deserve whatever he dishes out. Whatever, they're not me. I weakly crawl over to him, and I notice how much smoke is coming off me. I bet I smell like roast bacon, and don't ask me why. Once I'm close enough to him, I rise to my knees very slowly, allowing my non-human side to heal myself very quickly, and again, I can't help but notice my powers seem to be working more quickly than normal. I feel better already, but he doesn't look good, maybe I can help him, and maybe, hopefully, we can all walk away from this without anyone dying. I still need to get help for these guys here.
Okay, here goes nothing. I ask stupid questions all the time, this will be no exception. And frankly, I'm scared, so maybe I'm not thinking straight, "Are you okay?"
I tense my arms, I'm ready to run out of the way if he decides to answer me with more lightning. Actually, the plan is to twist around, place my back to him, lock both his hands with my arms, and wrap my legs over each of his. Crazy, but at least I can try to aim his hands away from me and from anyone else. Unfortunately, doing that means I'll be stuck on him, and if he's so inclined he can chew my head off. Plus, I don't know if I'm actually stronger than him, so this might result in me being torn limb from limb. But that entire plan of action depends on how he answers my question, and I know how absurd it is. One moment I'm scolding him, the next, after frying me with lightning from his own hands, I'm acting more concerned for him than myself. Yeah, I'm crazy like that, but I think that's infinitely clear by now.
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Post by Seven on Jul 21, 2013 13:08:30 GMT -8
Why couldn't she stay down? Why did she have to get back up? Now I... NNGGG!! The collar shot pain through his body again, commanding him to continue with the mission. His hand came up and his eyes lost all remorse, though no lightning issued from his fingers. This time, he gripped the young girl in his mind's eye and pushed, attempting to throw her against the far wall and hold her there as he stood. The pain in his mind and on his tattoos returned, but much less severely than before. It was bearable, if only just.
"Stay out of my way."
Please little girl, I don't want to kill you.
He moved forward then, walking to the edge of the window he had shattered. He could see the crowds in a panic below, hear the blaring sirens, and it wasn't long before he spotted his target being loaded into one of the ambulances. It should have been impossible to make out any details at this distance, but that never occurred to the boy as he stepped out of the building, his hold on the girl releasing as he dropped out of sight. I won't have to kill her if she stays out of the way.
He landed far more softly than should have been possible in the back of an air taxi and took control of the steering mechanisms, accelerating the craft as he guided it toward the ambulance that held his target. All I have to do is kill the target and leave. She doesn't have to get hurt any more.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 21, 2013 23:21:19 GMT -8
Well he didn't hit me with lightning again at least. But now I learn that he's got way more tricks than just that. Faster than I can think, I feel myself getting wrapped in something. Now I get it....telekinesis! That explains the exploded windows without any conventional weapon. My strength, speed, and all my other powers are pretty useless against that, and though I did try to counter his attack by flying against it, I still get slammed into the wall far away. I let out a pathetic whimper the moment I hit it. It hurt, and I don't like pain. I've got enough of it for lifetimes.
He tells me to stay out of his way. That's a really good idea, and I think I really should obey that.
He lets me go once he jumps out the window. I crumple to the ground, and I start trembling so badly. I'm used to fear, I'm even used to coming this close to getting killed, but I don't think I've ever met someone who can so easily kill me with just a thought, and he let me go. I probably would have been content to just lie there and await rescue myself, but I see a brief flash in my eyes. I realize shortly that it wasn't a physical flash of light, but rather something else. I've never had that before, and somehow I feel a new sense of foreboding. Great....why me? I'm a loser, and a I can barely protect myself, but somehow, I feel like we're not about to see the last of each other just yet.
He jumped out that window, and I think he's going after the guy I rescued from falling to his death, again. So that guy is definitely the intended target. For whatever reason, and my "friend" is going to make sure he finishes the job I so rudely interrupted.
I've got to stop him....somehow.
I stand up, and for the first time I notice that my hat had fallen off. Must have dropped when I was rolling around on the floor from the lightning attack. I put it back on and adjust it to conceal my face. Of everyone in the room, the woman seemed the least wounded and the only one conscious or capable of doing anything. So I go up to her and touch her on the shoulder, "Uhm...miss?"
I keep my hat low over my face so she can't see anything, except for my long red hair, "Maybe you should bring the medics and rescue teams here to get these men some help."
Stating the obvious, but I think she's in shock or something, so maybe a verbal instruction will prompt her into action. I have no time to do anything more, and either way, I'm sure the emergency response people will be coming up here regardless of anything the woman does. They should be able to guess where the problem is. So I step out the window without too much thought, literally walking on air for a moment, clear my mind completely, and concentrate on dropping my inhibitions about staying afloat.
I don't know how I know, but I just seemed to be able to pinpoint where exactly my "target" is, it's pretty obvious, even though he's getting further and further away, I can see one vehicle pointedly trailing the emergency speeder that's probably taking away the guy I saved earlier. He's still going to try killing him. I push myself to fly as fast as I possibly can. It is one thing to run after a speeder, it is another entirely to fly after one at high speed. I catch up, and only barely. How am I going to stop him? I can't fight him, that's for sure. Honestly, I cannot think of any scenario that doesn't involve me getting killed. But better me than someone else not prepared to die.
Okay, total lie, I don't wanna die.
I don't wanna die I don't wanna die I don't wanna die.
I'm gonna die. I am pretty sure I am. I finally get an idea, but it's dangerous, for me, and unfortunately, for him, my "target", my super "friend".
See, I believe that if I hurt a person, I hurt myself, because I'm destroying his or her soul, and by doing so, I similarly condemn myself to destruction and loss. So even if I get attacked, I will not raise a hand to defend myself, because by doing so, I may accidentally hurt the other person, and furthermore, that person attacking me is already hurting themselves, so I should not do anything to add to their wounds. There is no acceptable outcome that involves someone else getting hurt, so I don't care if he hates me, but I have to protect him, and also that guy he's trying to kill.
If this is to be my last day, then fine, I can live with that, so to speak.
I push myself a little bit more, and I can feel blood oozing out of my nose. Gross. But that means I'm probably gonna die for sure now.
Soon, I've almost overtaken the speeder he's flying, then I land on the hood in front, completely blocking his view outside.....well, blocking some of his view, I'm not big enough to cover the entire screen. I press down on the speeder, because I've stopped flying, I can't keep it up anymore. I feel an aching in my bones like I've been running a marathon for days and I'm literally breathless. I'm also tasting blood in my mouth.
"I...I know....you're.....going to kill.....him.....I don't know why....." breathe, Meony, breathe! ".....but I can't let you."
I let myself slip backwards a little, so I'm more or less on the hood itself, and I take in a deep breath, as deep as I can without gasping it back out, and I exhale, blowing hard on the hood. I can see the molecules in the air around the area I just exhaled begin to compress rapidly, cooling the temperature so rapidly, I have begun to freeze the hood, and the engine underneath it. This vehicle is going to crash, but first, I use my strength and my flight one last time to push the vehicle down hard so as to avoid having it hit any person that might get in its way, next I leap for him, grabbing him into a very tight hug. See, I've found that if I hold a person to myself tightly enough, the protective aura that I have around me will spread to the person I'm holding, giving him or her protection from injury for a short while.
"I'm sorry...." I whisper weakly at him. I can feel myself losing consciousness, and I really hope my protection keeps him from getting hurt, and hopefully, he won't keep pursuing the other guy. I hope maybe I've taught him something about non-violence. But yeah...I'm not really one for expecting things to work out the way I like.
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Post by Seven on Jul 22, 2013 19:19:51 GMT -8
"Get. OFF!"
Envisioning a rapidly expanding sphere in his mind, he focused the thought and emanated it from his own body, ignoring the agony that burned through his mind as he forced her arms apart and pushed her away from him, the taxi and its droid pilot plummeting to the now-abandoned street below. JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! He caught himself with the force before he began to fall, then telekinetically snatched her out of the air in front of him and began to squeeze, fury clouding his confused mind as he tried to crush the life out of her. No matter what action he took, no matter if the mission succeeded or failed, he would be punished. Forced to endure agony no matter which course he chose, so he chose the only course he knew. She had been the cause of this new pain, so he had to destroy her to be rid of it.
"I told you to stay out of my way! Why didn't you listen!? I don't want to kill you! Tears began to stain his cheeks as he crushed harder and harder, stemming from both his desire to spare the girl and the agony that seared through his mind as he continued trying to kill her. Had he not been so furious at his pain and confused by what was causing it, he would have been surprised at how resilient she was, any normal human would have been dead in a matter of seconds, but he could still feel the life in her, strong and defiant against his attempt to snuff it out. So he crushed harder, squeezing his hand into a fist as his teeth ground together against the pain and every nerve in his body was both burned and frozen in the same instant. This pain was far greater than anything he'd felt from the collar, but he could not stop. He could not fail his master. He could not...
NNNNNNO!!!
He froze, his eyes going wide as the pressure of the crush released almost instantly, though he still held both himself and the girl aloft.
"Who are you!?"
He said, shouting into the air around him. He had heard the voice of his master in his head before, many times, and this was not it. This voice was someone entirely foreign to him, and somehow it had managed to pierce his mind and halt his actions.
"How did you stop me?!"
The collar jolted again, but after the agony he'd felt just before hearing the voice it was little more than a distraction. He shrugged it off as he searched for the source of the voice, his eyes darting from building to building as he spun in place, trying to locate the new threat in the midst of the skyscrapers surrounding him.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 22, 2013 20:32:58 GMT -8
"AAAIEEE!"
I'm quickly reawakened by a new round of pain. Okay, it's not the worst pain ever, but it isn't exactly tickling either. My eyes snap open and the first thing I notice is we aren't in the crashing speeder anymore.
BOOM!
And it just crashed, so I haven't been out for very long. And yet somehow I'm already feeling a little better. That, should be impossible. Oh hey, no worries, I haven't forgotten that I'm being crushed to death right about now by invisible energy. Telekinesis, I officially hate it. I hate it I hate it I hate it. Well, I don't like it when it's being used to kill me. Still, it should be worse, and not because I'm a masochist or a glutton for punishment....well I am kind of a glutton for punishment, but anyway, I digress. This pain should be a lot worse, but it isn't, and it looks like my tormentor and "friend" is having trouble of some sort. WHY AM I SO CONCERNED FOR A KILLER?
Then his eyes widen and almost immediately, before I try to break out of his crushing grip, I'm free of it. I'm still floating, but not under my power. I realize he's keeping us afloat. Now he's spinning around, looking for something, shouting into the air, and demanding who someone is, but I don't think he means me. Hey, who cares about a tiny kid? Just kick her to the side of the curb and keep moving. He's now asking how did the mysterious someone stop him. Did someone stop him? Is he being controlled?
Maybe that makes sense. His earlier behavior and what I've been seeing so far, it's like he's not really doing this of his own choice. Maybe it's too much assumption at this point, but it gives me hope. Maybe that's why he let me go the first time. I start to fly, moving just a little closer to him, he no longer needs to keep me afloat.
"Who're you talking to?" I ask him cluelessly and in all innocence, like he didn't just try to squeeze the life out of me. My ribs are aching a little from all the invisible bearhugging.
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Post by Seven on Jul 22, 2013 21:21:12 GMT -8
We... We are...
He didn't even hear the girl speak, he was too focused on the voice in his head, trying to track it, trying to find a threat he could attack.
"You are what!"
Here.
His tattoos pulsed against his skin beneath the leather that covered them, and he looked down at his own chest in surprise. The... tattoos? But... that's not... you can't! How?!
We are... bonded. Stone with flesh, crushed and burned. Dead. Then... Awakened.
The last was not words so much as images and feelings. Great pressure followed by unfathomable pain, pain that should have killed the crystalline beings outright as it ground them to powder. But no, their torment did not end there. They were maintained, kept alive by something foul that burned when it touched them and refused to let their spirits rest. It was the only sensation they knew for an unfathomable eternity, then suddenly there was new sensation. A burning agony they had never before known as they were melted together with flesh and suddenly filled with sights and sounds and memories that were not their own. Memories of a tank, of opening eyes they did not possess, of moving limbs and flexing muscles they never had, of having knowledge burned into their minds. How to speak, how to stand, how to fight and kill. Familiar memories that the boy had already seen. His own memories.
"You're... Alive."
Yes.
How can they be alive? The master said they would make me better. He said they would make me powerful. He never said this would happen. This can't happen! He would have known! He would have told me! Warned me! His eyes suddenly snapped to awareness again, fixating on the girl floating in front of him. Unless...
"He lied. He told me he was god. Told me I was his vengeance on the galaxy. But he lied. God would have known.
And then he took off, straight up into the air, trying to get clear of the noise and distraction as he let the skyscrapers flash past him in a blur until he reached the top of the tallest one, then stepped lightly onto its rooftop and released the hold he had on his own body. Only then did he realize how exhausted he was. How much the pain and anguish and destruction had taken out of him. His legs buckled beneath him and he sagged to his hands and knees, panting hard as he tried to regain his breath and energy.
"But how could he not be god? He created me, didn't he? Doesn't that make him god?"
His words were quiet and breathless as he stared at the floor between his hands, his head swimming with confusion and pain as the collar continued to pulse, sending jolts of pain through a body too exhausted to respond.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 23, 2013 2:58:35 GMT -8
“I don’t know!” I stupidly answer the moment he asks what I am, then I realize he’s still not talking to me. He has a wild-eyed look as he desperately searches around, completely unaware of me, nor of the spectators around us. Hey, it’s not everyday you get to see flying human-ish people, who are sort of fighting each other. Well, really it’s a one-sided battle so far. Then he looks at himself in surprise, I think he’s having some kind of internal conversation or a mental breakdown. I just float there helplessly, I can’t really do much for him until he starts talking to me.
Except when he does finally give me some attention, I can’t help but instinctively shrink away a little. He really has an intense look. And then he spouts sheer madness. Who lied to him? A false god? An agent of vengeance on the galaxy for said false god? Who lied? And why would God have known?!? Urgh! I almost wish he would just go back to attacking me, at least I can make sense of that. Oh stop wishing for crazy things, Meony, you nearly wet your pants getting electrocuted. Hey! Where’s he going?!?“Hey!”Come back here! I’m not quite done bugging you just yet! He’s a flyer too! And a darn good one! Better than me anyways. Plus, I’m not one hundred percent just yet, and after my last use of my flying power, I had pushed myself way beyond what I would normally do, just trying to keep up with him now is nearly impossible. A few times I actually flap my hands about when I feel myself faltering and slowing down in the air, like my body refuses to cooperate with me. I get it, I’m exhausted, but I need to get to him. Just a little more, just a little...I shoot my hands forward and grab the edge of the rooftop, just a microsecond away from dropping about I don’t know, a coupla infinity miles to my death? Of course he had to pick the tallest building in the world to land on.
I’m absolutely exhausted now, that’s why my flying cut out, I’m hoofing it from now on, at least until I’ve had about a month’s sleep. But first thing’s first: Pointy-earedsilver-haired guy with glowing tattoos. I’m still hanging on to the edge of the roof like a human banner, and I might just slip considering how tired I feel right now, so I quickly pull my featherweight butt over and touch ground. Much better. Oh hey, look at that, he does feel tired. At least I know he’s got limitations too. He’s talking in a breathless way. Whatever self-discovery he’s made, it rattled him. I better play back what he just said, because I’m pretty sure I’ll frighten myself some more if I hear it one more time in my head."But how could he not be god? He created me, didn't he? Doesn't that make him god?"
I try not to think about that for now, because I have immediate problems. I mean, tired or not, he’s probably still doing a lot better than me, so if I want to make the best of this, then I’ll need to choose my actions and words carefully. I guess wildly that he’s probably in a state of confusion, based on his present behavior. He’s questioning the verity of his “god”, if he really is a deity, or just one very deceptive man of great influence. This may be risky, but maybe if I can push his mind towards a stronger sense of free will and self, then things might work out better...make him question his “god” some more. Huh, what do I know? Just stuff I’ve read on the holonet and books, but I know there is the general belief of a higher being of universe-creating power, and I’m pretty sure a God like that would not make people to kill each other.
I slowly walk closer to him, until I’m practically next to him, and kneel down, so that I can be eye-level with him, then I say, “I don’t know your god, but I know a real God wouldn’t make people to kill each other or to take vengeance on the galaxy...and...and more than that...God gives all sentients free will, to choose their own destiny. Does your god give you that?”I have not idea about half the junk I’m spewing out of my mouth, but I go with it, and I straighten my back a little, gesturing to him with my hand, like a one-handed offering, “Does he cause you pain to make you obey him? Your god? The man?” I’m gambling, totally gambling, and I don’t like gambling. Know why? ‘Cause I always lose in a bet. So far anyway.
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Post by Seven on Jul 23, 2013 20:55:12 GMT -8
"If that is what you believe, you do not know god."
Then again, neither do I. But if he isn't god, then what is he? He created me. He can't just be a man. He turned his head to look at the girl as she spoke, and had he not been so completely exhausted and confused he probably would have attacked her again for calling the Master a man. The collar continued jolting at his neck, the pain coursing through the deadened nerves of his body. "Does he cause you pain" she'd asked.
"Yes. There is pain for disobedience. That is the way of the universe."
Where could she be from to not know this? For the boy, it was simple fact, ingrained in him since the day he'd been pulled from his tank and the collar had been fastened around his neck. If you did not obey, you were punished. That was how it worked. Not only did it apply to him, but it also applied to everyone he had ever taken vengeance on. They had angered god... No. Not god. Something else. Something less. ...and he had been sent to punish them. It was the only life he had ever known. But what now? If I return without completing the mission, the punishment will be severe, and he will send me after the cause of my failure. He looked at the girl again, sadness tainting his eyes. I cannot go back. But what am I supposed to do?
Remove it.
What?
Your shackle. Destroy it.
His hand came up to the collar at his neck, his fingers brushing against it. But... I can't. That was the one law that stood above all others. To break it was to ask for death. He had tried once before, and had been punished to within an inch of his life and told that if he ever tried again, there would be no mercy.
You must.
He hesitated, knowing that if he did this, there would be no going back. I'll try.
You will not try alone.
The boy drew in a deep breath, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes closed in concentration, then gripped the collar and began to pull, as hard as his exhausted arm could manage, and it was not nearly enough. I can't!
Pull!
The voice was forceful in his head, and he felt new energy surge into his limbs as it spoke, the crystal tattoos somehow rejuvenating his body and mind. He kept pulling, feeding the force into his body to make it stronger, more durable, better than the metal that kept him prisoner. He sat back on his knees and brought his other hand up to pull as well, strength surging through him and growing greater and greater with every second.
"I. Will. Not. GO. BACK!"
The energy in him surged even higher as he shouted the last word, and the back of the collar snapped apart, the metal warping away from his skin as he pulled it free then flung it over the edge of the roof. I will not go back.
Good.
It was the last word he heard before he toppled to his side and the world went black.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Figuring things out...
Posts: 239
Affiliation: Anything that abhors violence
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 24, 2013 19:50:59 GMT -8
When he acknowledges that he does suffer pain for disobedience, my heart went out to him. So sue me, I no longer care that he tried to kill me twice now, and that he probably killed a whole lot of people before too. I know now, it's not his fault. Not really. He didn't have a choice. I have to help him.
Heyyy.....what's going on? He's struggling with a collar around his neck. A control collar? Yes, that has to be it. But I jump back a little when he shouts that he will not go back, breaks the collar, and then faints.
"Hey!" That's bad, he's passed out. Huh, I thought he would outlast everything that came his way. I mean, he's super, more powerful than me. But everyone has limits, him too, I guess. I should get him somewhere more comfortable so he can rest properly. Picking him up is no effort. He may outweigh me by a hundred or two more pounds than me, but my disproportionate strength makes him a feather in my hands. However, I still am not strong enough to fly again. And my ship is the only place I can think of getting him to.
On the other hand, with great strength, I can leap pretty far, so I bunch my legs in a crouch, and launch across the roof, land on another, leap again, and I keep this up, jumping from building to building, careful not to drop my friend, my still nameless friend. After some significant leaping about, and being gawked at....I mean, how often do people see a little girl carrying a larger man, and leaping tall buildings? Not very often around here, I'd bet. I reach my ship and rush to the living quarters. There's lots of bedrooms. This ship can accommodate two hundred passengers. I call for Limey and get to the first bedroom, where I place him gently on the soft mattress.
Limey rolls in after a while, warbling annoyance at my so rudely calling it from its work, when it notices the unconscious man now resting on the bed. It asks me who it is, "I don't know. He tried to kill me twice, but it's not his fault, he's under control. But he's free now. Can you see if he's all right?"
Limey squeals in alarm and says I have an unhealthy habit of helping people who don't deserve to be helped, and that I should throw this one out. I glare at it and say, "I'll do no such thing, and neither will you. We're helping him. Now please, look him over and make sure he's all right..."
I instruct Limey to do such, because the moment I sit down on the bed across the room, my eyes start becoming ultra-heavy. I guess I'm more tired than I thought. I did say I was going to sleep for a month.....I feel that tired anyway. Before I know it, I'm being gently placed down on the bed from a sitting position. Must be Limey, because my eyes are closed and I can't tell any longer. I drift off effortlessly into sleep, and I only hope he'll be all right. My friend....yes.....my friend.....I have strange friends, but that's....okay.....
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
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Post by The Major on Jul 30, 2013 10:12:45 GMT -8
Way away; far enough but close enough. If she could laugh aloud, if it was possible, then she would. It would have to be a long winded one -one twenty five years in the making. That was not to say that she had been working on this for 25 years. Firstly: she had just recently celebrated her 25th birthday with the usual subjects. Yes, subjects, not suspects. Secondly: an operation so straightforward and pure in objective, while complicated and expensive, did not afford decades wasted. Thirdly: it was an insult to her intellect and skill to say something so simple could take her so long. There was a banality in success, since all the best plans were not the dragged out ones, but the swiftest and most adaptable. Subject 200, the supposed girl otherwise codenamed Agent "Em" was the embodiment of such a principle. Em was swift, and Em was adaptable.
No, no, no, all this was vanity. There was something even purer and better happening here. Em was entertaining.
Entertainment abounds.
Watching that girl struggle to help a beast who nearly killed her twice was so laughable, so dramatic, so enjoyable, that the woman watching this did not regret a single credit that was poured into this opera's production. And it was oh so much sweeter, since none of those credits spent were any of hers.And so the Fallanassi tilts her PDA closer to her bespectacled face, smiles, and jabs into a plate of steaming broccoli with a steel fork. Absentmindedly, greedily, she darts the vegetable into her mouth with quick, birdlike motions. Whilst chewing, the corners of her mouth spike upwards, and all the while, the diminutive and lovable construct called Limey obediently and carefully tucks in Agent Em into a restful slumber. All the while, the specially made and heavily programmed Limey continues to feed that datapad the smiling woman so happily clutched a live feed. How touching.*A sound like teeth being licked escapes the woman's mouth*
"Tsk. Awwwwwwww. . ." |
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Post by Seven on Aug 10, 2013 13:29:33 GMT -8
Hours later...
The boy awoke with a throbbing head and immediately sat bolt upright in bed, smashing his head on the bottom of the bed above him. Ow! The loud THUNK and jolt of pain only made the headache worse, and the metal covering his gauntleted hands didn't help as he brought them to his forehead to try and contain the agony. Ahrrrgg... what is wrong with me? He hadn't felt this kind of headache since he'd finished his first year of training, and he'd been pushed well past his limits many times since then. Why now? What's changed? And how do I fix it?
Then he remembered. The collar. I never had a headache while wearing the collar. It wasn't just to control me. It made me ignore my limits. He sat there like that, rocking back and forth with his head in his hands, for a good ten minutes before the realization finally hit him. The collar! I took it off! Nonono!!! I have to find it, have to put it back on! Maybe he'll be merciful if I come back on my own. But as much as he hoped, he knew that wasn't the case. He had never been shown mercy before. He only knew the meaning of the word because a target had begged for it once, and the boy had asked him what it meant before completing his mission.
Resolve quickly replaced fear as the thoughts raced through the boy's head. No. I can't go back. I won't. He would kill me. He pulled his hands away from his head and looked up, ignoring the pain as he had been trained to do, and focused his eyes on the girl in the bed across from his. I wonder who she is. What kind of person would do what she did? No one else has ever tried to interfere like that. He thought about trying to wake her, but decided against it almost immediately. She tried to help me. Let her sleep. Instead, he pushed himself out of his own bunk and stood warily, half expecting his own legs to crumple beneath his weight. They didn't, and he took that as a good sign.*
*It was then that he realized he had no idea what to do next. He had never been without a mission or a training scenario to complete. The realization of freedom hit him like a boulder, and he sat heavily back onto the bed. What now? What do normal people do? He honestly had no idea, so he just sat there and waited. Maybe the girl will know when she wakes up.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
Member
Figuring things out...
Posts: 239
Affiliation: Anything that abhors violence
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Aug 11, 2013 7:01:20 GMT -8
God, just once, let me have a dream that isn't a nightmare. Pretty sure I'm crying in my sleep again.
I always do.
As usual, I jerk and fall off my bed in an attempt to get away from something I thought was going to kill me in my dreams.
"Oof!" Sigh. At least it's over. I wipe away the still moist tears from my eyes. How long was I out? I feel slightly better. Then I notice I'm not alone. Oh whoops. Him!
I scramble backwards into my bed, until my back is pressed to the wall. Not once did I take my eyes off him. I pull up my knees to my face and I hold them in place with my hands, sort of forming a barricade around myself. Yeah, so I thought it would be nice to bring him in. But uh, clearly I didn't think this through...as usual. I mean, what do I do now? What if he's still mad at me? Heck I really got in his face non-stop when we met. Not a good way for a first impression. But I guess everything has to start somewhere, right?
"H-how long've you...uh...been up?"
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Post by Seven on Aug 13, 2013 22:54:46 GMT -8
How long have I been up? "I... I don't know." The concept of measured time had never been one the boy had needed for his missions, and his master had never seen fit to teach him about it, so he truly had no idea how to answer the question. "You were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you, so I waited." The simplicity of the reply, a basic statement of the obvious without any elaboration on why he needed to wait for her, betrayed the social ineptitude of the boy that said it.
He sat there looking at her in silence for a few moments before a question of his own occurred to him. "Where am I?"
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