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[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
1000 Years Later
Sai Benedict was tired, scared, and alone; his lab assistants hadn't turned up to work, which could mean only one thing - the Earth Military Council had rounded them all up. That meant it would only be a matter of time until the intensive interrogations revealed the location of his lab; even with the neural inhibitors he had scrounged together, and installed in their heads, he would only have a few more hours at the most. That time was meant to be used to escape, to set up elsewhere and begin again from scratch, but he couldn't do it again.
It wasn't anything to do with willingness; he literally couldn't. For a start, even with black market rejuvenation treatments, his two hundred year old frame just couldn't take much more. A simple look in the mirror told the rest of the story: whereas just ten years ago (before the last relocation) he had looked like a svelte young man in his mid twenties, with dark hair, light brown skin, and piercing green eyes, he now appeared almost monstrous. His hair was patchy and albino white, his skin was a sickly yellow color (covered in painful boils), and his eyes--now all but blind without technology--were almost completely white. During the last close call, EMC internal security had zombified one of his own assistants; they used her to deliver a biological weapon that Sai had not been able--even with his formidable training--to counter.
He'd upgraded the rest of his assistants' implants to ensure something similar couldn't happen again, and had found a way to prolong what he had left of life, but there just wasn't much time left. A hacking cough, that brought up a mixture of blood and greenish phlegm, reminded him of that fact. So instead of even thinking about escape, he went back to work.
Looking around the lab, before he did so, he let out a sigh. In his youth, before he'd joined one of the many failed revolutions, he'd always been surrounded by the best facilities: private and EMC funding had taken him through the most promising schools and universities, before placing him in charge of one of the navy's R&D facilities. Now, however, he was stationed in a retrofitted barn outside of Moscow - gone were the shining banks of modern holo stations, and in their place a mishmash of technology ranging from the relatively new to the positively ancient; he even had an old quantum computer gathering dust in the corner.
At the center of it all was a surgery table, the only piece of cutting edge tech in the barn, upon which lay what appeared to be a bald human male (he didn't even have eyebrows yet). Of course, it was actually the most advanced simulated organism ever created - able to pass as a human, but with capabilities far in advance (even with all the recent innovations) of any man or woman, and more importantly--if he could get the damned thing activated and on its way to Angelica--it offered the potentiality of fixing humankind's greatest mistake...
|
Meanwhile in a Secret Room with 8 mysterious men seated around a table:
Man 1: Gentlemen, It seems we have extraterrestrial life forms in our midst.
Man 2: Well well, I smell an opportunity. While we have profited from selling weapons to the US military, ISIS, the Saudis and other groups we can give the aliens our "welcome" and hopefully learn about their technology and weaponize it.
Man 3: Isn't that absurd your suggesting something like Star Wars .
Man 4: I must say our world is running out of space and resources. If we are to survive we must expand to other planets.
Man 5: Well then may I suggest that we need to make up a story that aliens are lying about "coming in peace" and start a "false flag operation" and blame the aliens.
Man 3: I have to agree with you sir. With enough propaganda, we can justify our attacks against aliens.
Man 6: An interstellar empire. Brilliant, I must develop the ideology of human supremacy. After all, I find racism, sexism, and other -ism getting old. Besides we can finally achieve what humanity wanted: equality among humans. But since it's natural for humans to hate, we can have them hate the aliens.
Man 7: Ah yes another way to gain cheap labour and profits. With alien slave labour we can have them mine minerals in other worlds.
Man 8: Plus, we can have them as agricultural laborers.
Man 1: Well Gentlemen, today herald a new era. Let's all cast away our differences and bring about a new age for humanity.
All: Human Power!
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
"You mean... we're actually more advanced than you? How is that possible? You came all the way here from... where, again?" President Clarke asked.
"Ah, ha ha. No, not more *advanced*, per se," Admiral OJ Simpson responded with an uncomfortable chuckle and shifted in his seat. "Just better at... what was that phrase, again?" he asked his second-in-command, Admiral Stalin.
"Fucking shit up, sir?"
"Fucking shit up. That's the one. Our technology is eons more advanced than yours, but you're better at fucking shit up. Every time our ancestors made a breakthrough in any field of learning, they immediately banded together to think of the most widely beneficial use for the new technology. Every time *your* ancestors made a breakthrough in any field, their first thought seems to have been directed towards using it to fuck shit up. That's why we've come to you."
Clarke still didn't quite catch on. "You want us to... what? Sorry."
"We want you to tell us how to use what we already have to fuck shit up."
"Ah, ok. Well, we'll do what we can," answered the President, speaking on behalf of a large gathering of Earth's political leaders, scientists, and military geniuses.
"Yeah. That brings me to my next point: we appreciate your bringing your scientists in here, but what we'd really like would be for you to bring in those... those guys. Ah, shoot. Stalin, those guys? Who were they again?"
"7-year-old boys, sir."
"Right, yes."
"Also Michael Bay."
"*Yes*! One of the few adults who has retained the incredible power of the 7-year-old boy: to instantly weaponise every object he sees with the sheer force of imagination. Please bring in several 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay."
***
In a few hours' time, the room now contained several 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay. At Admiral OJ Simpson's request, the centre of the room had been occupied by a large table containing everyday objects that the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, could use to stimulate their creativity. With everyone settled in, their work began.
"Do you know how to split adams?" Jakob asked.
"Yes," a Garion scientist replied.
"Sweeeeet," said Jakob.
"Sweeeet," said the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay.
"Why do you ask?" inquired the Garion scientist.
"Well to make a thermonukular bomb you have to split adams. Then the adams split and there's like this super energy that comes out like *bloah* and *psssssshht* and *whrkkkkkkkkkkt* and *dujje dujje dujje*," Jakob explained, using a Barbie Dream Car and a plastic frying pan to illustrate.
"A thermonukular bomb, you say? How does such a thing work?"
"Well," piped in one of the human scientists, "for starters, it's actually pronounced *nu-cle-ar*."
"Whatever, egghead. We can figure out the science stuff, thanks. I asked how it *works*. How do we use a bomb?"
"It's totally awesome!!" Oliver cried, leaping out of his chair. "You have to put it on a rocket, right? And like the rocket has like this flames out the back like *hhhhhhhkkkkkkKKKKKKKKKK* **KKKKKKKKK** ***PPPPPPKKKKKKKKT***! And the rocket goes like right to the bad guys' ship or whatever, and the ship is like --"
"AND THE SHIP IS LIKE ***BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWMMMMMM!!!!!!!***" shouted Michael Bay, crashing his hands together with such force that than oak branch and harmonica he'd been holding were utterly obliterated. "It's totally fucking awesome!!!!!"
The room fell silent as the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, recognised the gravity of the terrible cuss that Michael Bay had just said. However, the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, quickly realised that nobody's moms were around, and so they weren't gonna get grounded.
"Fart!" yelled Aiden, breaking the silence with at least 8 minutes of uncontrollable laughter from the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay.
When the laughter died down, Admiral Pol Pot asked the question that he and the Garion staff felt may hold the answer to their future and the survival of their species:
"How do we make a rocket?"
Samuel really liked rockets and even made one with his dad last summer, so everyone felt that he would be the most qualified to explain.
"You guys have ships, right?"
"Yes, we do."
"Fast ones?"
"Yes, Samuel."
"How fast? Faster than a Lamborghini?"
"Yes. Much faster."
"Sweet," said Michael Bay.
"Sweeeeeet," said the 7-year-old boys.
"Ok, then," said Samuel, with a very serious look. "Alls you do is, like you put a nuclear bomb *in* a ship, and then fly it real fast into the bad guy ship, and make it so it blows up when it gets there. But don't have anyone fly the ship. The ship should be like remote-controlled. Then you just blow the bad guys up."
By way of demonstration, Samuel proceeded to smash a violin on the edge of the table.
The Garion delegation sat back for a few moments in stunned silence.
"It's so simple," said Admiral OJ Simpson. "It's so *simple*. Thank you, boys. Thank you, Michael Bay! We are going to make a thermonukular bomb and we are going to *fuck those aliens' shit up!!*"
"Fart," said Aiden.
|
Meanwhile in a Secret Room with 8 mysterious men seated around a table:
Man 1: Gentlemen, It seems we have extraterrestrial life forms in our midst.
Man 2: Well well, I smell an opportunity. While we have profited from selling weapons to the US military, ISIS, the Saudis and other groups we can give the aliens our "welcome" and hopefully learn about their technology and weaponize it.
Man 3: Isn't that absurd your suggesting something like Star Wars .
Man 4: I must say our world is running out of space and resources. If we are to survive we must expand to other planets.
Man 5: Well then may I suggest that we need to make up a story that aliens are lying about "coming in peace" and start a "false flag operation" and blame the aliens.
Man 3: I have to agree with you sir. With enough propaganda, we can justify our attacks against aliens.
Man 6: An interstellar empire. Brilliant, I must develop the ideology of human supremacy. After all, I find racism, sexism, and other -ism getting old. Besides we can finally achieve what humanity wanted: equality among humans. But since it's natural for humans to hate, we can have them hate the aliens.
Man 7: Ah yes another way to gain cheap labour and profits. With alien slave labour we can have them mine minerals in other worlds.
Man 8: Plus, we can have them as agricultural laborers.
Man 1: Well Gentlemen, today herald a new era. Let's all cast away our differences and bring about a new age for humanity.
All: Human Power!
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
The Council slowly came to order. 3 species from different worlds, all of them peaceful and advanced, with a 500 year history of being the closest of allies.
And yet, this discussion might just break them apart.
Council Member Grak, tall and slender beneath the iridescent scales of his race, stood from among his delegation. "Good morning to you all. We come together today to discuss the progress of the fighting in NR-347 and NR-..."
Council Member Helios stood and interrupted Grak. "We all are aware of the fighting, even with it coming 50 years early!" Helios was hot tempered, and more prone to outbursts than the rest of his race. His 4 eyes glared balefully from his broad brown snout. "The Enemy is pushing us and our forces are barely holding. If we had not gone along with your mad scheme to arm those... *primatives* then we would have another full fleet to put on the line!"
Grak exhaled through his secondary membrane. Helios led a faction in the Council that favored simply blockading the Border Worlds and letting the Frontier fall to the enemy. When Grak had convinced the Council to give the Humans a full fleet of ships to prepare for the invasion, the rest of the 100 member assembly had assumed that they would actually be put to use. It had been the ethical thing to do, since their world was in the path of the Enemy and Humans were the only species in the area to be even close to a useful buffer. However, since the delivery of ships the only word from them was an acknowledgement of the news that fighting had started.
The Humans were... strange. All of the other Council races had been at peace with themselves for their whole histories. Descended from 2 herd races and a hive mind, fighting was simply outside their nature. Even attempting genetic manipulation to create their own soldiers had been a disaster. Hiring the Humans as mercenaries had seemed a perfect solution. There were enough of them, and they bred quickly enough, that there should have been a wall of them across the Frontier already.
Even as Grak tried to think of a counter to the arguments still issuing from his counterpart, one of the Xin stood from their delegation and the translator hummed to life. <<Queen. Alarm. Approach. Foes. Danger. Danger.>>
Grak was surprised. The Xin, looking like crabs with fingers instead of claws almost never showed any signs of concern. For them to show that now....
A guard came into the 4th chamber of the Council Hall looking as if wildfire burned behind him. "My Honors, there is a... a representative here. He demands audience!"
The Hall burst into shouts and sounds of panic. The Enemy *here*? Even as the doors opened the panic only subsided when a two legged shape came in past the lights. A black uniform and rows of colorful markings across the chest meant that this was a member of the Human military from what Grak recalled. Within ten steps, the only sound was the clicking of the Human's shoes on the stone floor as he mounted the steps to the guest podium.
"I am Fleet Commodore Da Gang. I have been sent to you to take Earth's first place on this Council."
Outrage thundered from Helios' corner of the room. Grak was not far from joining him. To demand this...!
Helios quieted his fellows and spoke. "Human, it has been 10 years and you have been silent. Now you come demanding honor as equals?! This is beyond madness! While you have been cowering, our forces have bled and died holding back the Enemy!"
Grak tuned out the tirade and watched the Human. His face changed not at all, without a twitch against the force of Helios' anger. It was worrying. Grak had not risen as far as he had without knowing when he saw a trap.
Da Gang stood with his hands behind his back, silently waiting for Helios to run out of steam. When he had the attention of the Council again, he began.
"Honors, I have been sent not just with our claim to join this Council, but also to show what we have done for a war that is, I remind you, YOUR war."
Waving an attendant forward, Da Gang began a presentation on an unfamiliar holo-emitter. "You presented us with a fleet of ships and asked us to use them to fight your Enemy. We found quickly that your ships were.... inadequate... for the task."
The visions of most of the fleet being blotted out among the stars filled the room. No one dared speak. Helios had all of his eyes fixed on the violence. His concession to allowing the Humans to have the ships was that they would be aging hulks. Grak imagined that there was some regret of that now.
Da Gang continued. "Luckily for us, however, we took some of the ships and took them apart. We learned how to make the technology you gifted us. And then we improved it."
The images changed to a moon being disassembled for materials. The shipyards above what Grak recognized as the 5th planet of their home system filled 2 entire Lagrange points. To have done all this.... to have done all this in a mere *10* *years* was unthinkable.
"Our weapons are now 50% more powerful than what the Enemy uses. As you can see," the stars making up the Human's spiral arm now dominated the room, "we have pushed back this Invasion approximately 7% since our new ships have come into use."
Flickering red dots showed the sites of battles, scattered like drops of the Humans' red blood. Several of the Enemy's colony worlds were marked. A frown crossed Grak's face. "Fleet Commodore, what are the black spots with the yellow rings?" Dread made his voice faint, but Da Gang heard him.
"After the early defeats, we needed a weapon that the enemy could not fight off. We had many of your star-drives ready, so we used them."
The images changed again. Dreadnaught engines strapped to... asteroids? But why would.... No. No, not even a race that fought itself could be so deranged.
"As you can see, these black spots are Enemy holdings that have been... neutralized."
Helios wept as the Council watched worlds burn. "How could you have done this? What have you done?"
Da Gang's expression finally changed. To surprise.
"We did as you asked."
"We brought you victory."
EDIT: [Part 2 included](https://docs.google.com/document/d/14NoT0Myy4fJGmiEiwquxhsXTaNAZoT7ZpqRBc8HjSfc/edit?usp=sharing)
|
Meanwhile in a Secret Room with 8 mysterious men seated around a table:
Man 1: Gentlemen, It seems we have extraterrestrial life forms in our midst.
Man 2: Well well, I smell an opportunity. While we have profited from selling weapons to the US military, ISIS, the Saudis and other groups we can give the aliens our "welcome" and hopefully learn about their technology and weaponize it.
Man 3: Isn't that absurd your suggesting something like Star Wars .
Man 4: I must say our world is running out of space and resources. If we are to survive we must expand to other planets.
Man 5: Well then may I suggest that we need to make up a story that aliens are lying about "coming in peace" and start a "false flag operation" and blame the aliens.
Man 3: I have to agree with you sir. With enough propaganda, we can justify our attacks against aliens.
Man 6: An interstellar empire. Brilliant, I must develop the ideology of human supremacy. After all, I find racism, sexism, and other -ism getting old. Besides we can finally achieve what humanity wanted: equality among humans. But since it's natural for humans to hate, we can have them hate the aliens.
Man 7: Ah yes another way to gain cheap labour and profits. With alien slave labour we can have them mine minerals in other worlds.
Man 8: Plus, we can have them as agricultural laborers.
Man 1: Well Gentlemen, today herald a new era. Let's all cast away our differences and bring about a new age for humanity.
All: Human Power!
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
"You mean... we're actually more advanced than you? How is that possible? You came all the way here from... where, again?" President Clarke asked.
"Ah, ha ha. No, not more *advanced*, per se," Admiral OJ Simpson responded with an uncomfortable chuckle and shifted in his seat. "Just better at... what was that phrase, again?" he asked his second-in-command, Admiral Stalin.
"Fucking shit up, sir?"
"Fucking shit up. That's the one. Our technology is eons more advanced than yours, but you're better at fucking shit up. Every time our ancestors made a breakthrough in any field of learning, they immediately banded together to think of the most widely beneficial use for the new technology. Every time *your* ancestors made a breakthrough in any field, their first thought seems to have been directed towards using it to fuck shit up. That's why we've come to you."
Clarke still didn't quite catch on. "You want us to... what? Sorry."
"We want you to tell us how to use what we already have to fuck shit up."
"Ah, ok. Well, we'll do what we can," answered the President, speaking on behalf of a large gathering of Earth's political leaders, scientists, and military geniuses.
"Yeah. That brings me to my next point: we appreciate your bringing your scientists in here, but what we'd really like would be for you to bring in those... those guys. Ah, shoot. Stalin, those guys? Who were they again?"
"7-year-old boys, sir."
"Right, yes."
"Also Michael Bay."
"*Yes*! One of the few adults who has retained the incredible power of the 7-year-old boy: to instantly weaponise every object he sees with the sheer force of imagination. Please bring in several 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay."
***
In a few hours' time, the room now contained several 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay. At Admiral OJ Simpson's request, the centre of the room had been occupied by a large table containing everyday objects that the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, could use to stimulate their creativity. With everyone settled in, their work began.
"Do you know how to split adams?" Jakob asked.
"Yes," a Garion scientist replied.
"Sweeeeet," said Jakob.
"Sweeeet," said the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay.
"Why do you ask?" inquired the Garion scientist.
"Well to make a thermonukular bomb you have to split adams. Then the adams split and there's like this super energy that comes out like *bloah* and *psssssshht* and *whrkkkkkkkkkkt* and *dujje dujje dujje*," Jakob explained, using a Barbie Dream Car and a plastic frying pan to illustrate.
"A thermonukular bomb, you say? How does such a thing work?"
"Well," piped in one of the human scientists, "for starters, it's actually pronounced *nu-cle-ar*."
"Whatever, egghead. We can figure out the science stuff, thanks. I asked how it *works*. How do we use a bomb?"
"It's totally awesome!!" Oliver cried, leaping out of his chair. "You have to put it on a rocket, right? And like the rocket has like this flames out the back like *hhhhhhhkkkkkkKKKKKKKKKK* **KKKKKKKKK** ***PPPPPPKKKKKKKKT***! And the rocket goes like right to the bad guys' ship or whatever, and the ship is like --"
"AND THE SHIP IS LIKE ***BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWMMMMMM!!!!!!!***" shouted Michael Bay, crashing his hands together with such force that than oak branch and harmonica he'd been holding were utterly obliterated. "It's totally fucking awesome!!!!!"
The room fell silent as the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, recognised the gravity of the terrible cuss that Michael Bay had just said. However, the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, quickly realised that nobody's moms were around, and so they weren't gonna get grounded.
"Fart!" yelled Aiden, breaking the silence with at least 8 minutes of uncontrollable laughter from the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay.
When the laughter died down, Admiral Pol Pot asked the question that he and the Garion staff felt may hold the answer to their future and the survival of their species:
"How do we make a rocket?"
Samuel really liked rockets and even made one with his dad last summer, so everyone felt that he would be the most qualified to explain.
"You guys have ships, right?"
"Yes, we do."
"Fast ones?"
"Yes, Samuel."
"How fast? Faster than a Lamborghini?"
"Yes. Much faster."
"Sweet," said Michael Bay.
"Sweeeeeet," said the 7-year-old boys.
"Ok, then," said Samuel, with a very serious look. "Alls you do is, like you put a nuclear bomb *in* a ship, and then fly it real fast into the bad guy ship, and make it so it blows up when it gets there. But don't have anyone fly the ship. The ship should be like remote-controlled. Then you just blow the bad guys up."
By way of demonstration, Samuel proceeded to smash a violin on the edge of the table.
The Garion delegation sat back for a few moments in stunned silence.
"It's so simple," said Admiral OJ Simpson. "It's so *simple*. Thank you, boys. Thank you, Michael Bay! We are going to make a thermonukular bomb and we are going to *fuck those aliens' shit up!!*"
"Fart," said Aiden.
|
1000 Years Later
Sai Benedict was tired, scared, and alone; his lab assistants hadn't turned up to work, which could mean only one thing - the Earth Military Council had rounded them all up. That meant it would only be a matter of time until the intensive interrogations revealed the location of his lab; even with the neural inhibitors he had scrounged together, and installed in their heads, he would only have a few more hours at the most. That time was meant to be used to escape, to set up elsewhere and begin again from scratch, but he couldn't do it again.
It wasn't anything to do with willingness; he literally couldn't. For a start, even with black market rejuvenation treatments, his two hundred year old frame just couldn't take much more. A simple look in the mirror told the rest of the story: whereas just ten years ago (before the last relocation) he had looked like a svelte young man in his mid twenties, with dark hair, light brown skin, and piercing green eyes, he now appeared almost monstrous. His hair was patchy and albino white, his skin was a sickly yellow color (covered in painful boils), and his eyes--now all but blind without technology--were almost completely white. During the last close call, EMC internal security had zombified one of his own assistants; they used her to deliver a biological weapon that Sai had not been able--even with his formidable training--to counter.
He'd upgraded the rest of his assistants' implants to ensure something similar couldn't happen again, and had found a way to prolong what he had left of life, but there just wasn't much time left. A hacking cough, that brought up a mixture of blood and greenish phlegm, reminded him of that fact. So instead of even thinking about escape, he went back to work.
Looking around the lab, before he did so, he let out a sigh. In his youth, before he'd joined one of the many failed revolutions, he'd always been surrounded by the best facilities: private and EMC funding had taken him through the most promising schools and universities, before placing him in charge of one of the navy's R&D facilities. Now, however, he was stationed in a retrofitted barn outside of Moscow - gone were the shining banks of modern holo stations, and in their place a mishmash of technology ranging from the relatively new to the positively ancient; he even had an old quantum computer gathering dust in the corner.
At the center of it all was a surgery table, the only piece of cutting edge tech in the barn, upon which lay what appeared to be a bald human male (he didn't even have eyebrows yet). Of course, it was actually the most advanced simulated organism ever created - able to pass as a human, but with capabilities far in advance (even with all the recent innovations) of any man or woman, and more importantly--if he could get the damned thing activated and on its way to Angelica--it offered the potentiality of fixing humankind's greatest mistake...
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
The Council slowly came to order. 3 species from different worlds, all of them peaceful and advanced, with a 500 year history of being the closest of allies.
And yet, this discussion might just break them apart.
Council Member Grak, tall and slender beneath the iridescent scales of his race, stood from among his delegation. "Good morning to you all. We come together today to discuss the progress of the fighting in NR-347 and NR-..."
Council Member Helios stood and interrupted Grak. "We all are aware of the fighting, even with it coming 50 years early!" Helios was hot tempered, and more prone to outbursts than the rest of his race. His 4 eyes glared balefully from his broad brown snout. "The Enemy is pushing us and our forces are barely holding. If we had not gone along with your mad scheme to arm those... *primatives* then we would have another full fleet to put on the line!"
Grak exhaled through his secondary membrane. Helios led a faction in the Council that favored simply blockading the Border Worlds and letting the Frontier fall to the enemy. When Grak had convinced the Council to give the Humans a full fleet of ships to prepare for the invasion, the rest of the 100 member assembly had assumed that they would actually be put to use. It had been the ethical thing to do, since their world was in the path of the Enemy and Humans were the only species in the area to be even close to a useful buffer. However, since the delivery of ships the only word from them was an acknowledgement of the news that fighting had started.
The Humans were... strange. All of the other Council races had been at peace with themselves for their whole histories. Descended from 2 herd races and a hive mind, fighting was simply outside their nature. Even attempting genetic manipulation to create their own soldiers had been a disaster. Hiring the Humans as mercenaries had seemed a perfect solution. There were enough of them, and they bred quickly enough, that there should have been a wall of them across the Frontier already.
Even as Grak tried to think of a counter to the arguments still issuing from his counterpart, one of the Xin stood from their delegation and the translator hummed to life. <<Queen. Alarm. Approach. Foes. Danger. Danger.>>
Grak was surprised. The Xin, looking like crabs with fingers instead of claws almost never showed any signs of concern. For them to show that now....
A guard came into the 4th chamber of the Council Hall looking as if wildfire burned behind him. "My Honors, there is a... a representative here. He demands audience!"
The Hall burst into shouts and sounds of panic. The Enemy *here*? Even as the doors opened the panic only subsided when a two legged shape came in past the lights. A black uniform and rows of colorful markings across the chest meant that this was a member of the Human military from what Grak recalled. Within ten steps, the only sound was the clicking of the Human's shoes on the stone floor as he mounted the steps to the guest podium.
"I am Fleet Commodore Da Gang. I have been sent to you to take Earth's first place on this Council."
Outrage thundered from Helios' corner of the room. Grak was not far from joining him. To demand this...!
Helios quieted his fellows and spoke. "Human, it has been 10 years and you have been silent. Now you come demanding honor as equals?! This is beyond madness! While you have been cowering, our forces have bled and died holding back the Enemy!"
Grak tuned out the tirade and watched the Human. His face changed not at all, without a twitch against the force of Helios' anger. It was worrying. Grak had not risen as far as he had without knowing when he saw a trap.
Da Gang stood with his hands behind his back, silently waiting for Helios to run out of steam. When he had the attention of the Council again, he began.
"Honors, I have been sent not just with our claim to join this Council, but also to show what we have done for a war that is, I remind you, YOUR war."
Waving an attendant forward, Da Gang began a presentation on an unfamiliar holo-emitter. "You presented us with a fleet of ships and asked us to use them to fight your Enemy. We found quickly that your ships were.... inadequate... for the task."
The visions of most of the fleet being blotted out among the stars filled the room. No one dared speak. Helios had all of his eyes fixed on the violence. His concession to allowing the Humans to have the ships was that they would be aging hulks. Grak imagined that there was some regret of that now.
Da Gang continued. "Luckily for us, however, we took some of the ships and took them apart. We learned how to make the technology you gifted us. And then we improved it."
The images changed to a moon being disassembled for materials. The shipyards above what Grak recognized as the 5th planet of their home system filled 2 entire Lagrange points. To have done all this.... to have done all this in a mere *10* *years* was unthinkable.
"Our weapons are now 50% more powerful than what the Enemy uses. As you can see," the stars making up the Human's spiral arm now dominated the room, "we have pushed back this Invasion approximately 7% since our new ships have come into use."
Flickering red dots showed the sites of battles, scattered like drops of the Humans' red blood. Several of the Enemy's colony worlds were marked. A frown crossed Grak's face. "Fleet Commodore, what are the black spots with the yellow rings?" Dread made his voice faint, but Da Gang heard him.
"After the early defeats, we needed a weapon that the enemy could not fight off. We had many of your star-drives ready, so we used them."
The images changed again. Dreadnaught engines strapped to... asteroids? But why would.... No. No, not even a race that fought itself could be so deranged.
"As you can see, these black spots are Enemy holdings that have been... neutralized."
Helios wept as the Council watched worlds burn. "How could you have done this? What have you done?"
Da Gang's expression finally changed. To surprise.
"We did as you asked."
"We brought you victory."
EDIT: [Part 2 included](https://docs.google.com/document/d/14NoT0Myy4fJGmiEiwquxhsXTaNAZoT7ZpqRBc8HjSfc/edit?usp=sharing)
|
1000 Years Later
Sai Benedict was tired, scared, and alone; his lab assistants hadn't turned up to work, which could mean only one thing - the Earth Military Council had rounded them all up. That meant it would only be a matter of time until the intensive interrogations revealed the location of his lab; even with the neural inhibitors he had scrounged together, and installed in their heads, he would only have a few more hours at the most. That time was meant to be used to escape, to set up elsewhere and begin again from scratch, but he couldn't do it again.
It wasn't anything to do with willingness; he literally couldn't. For a start, even with black market rejuvenation treatments, his two hundred year old frame just couldn't take much more. A simple look in the mirror told the rest of the story: whereas just ten years ago (before the last relocation) he had looked like a svelte young man in his mid twenties, with dark hair, light brown skin, and piercing green eyes, he now appeared almost monstrous. His hair was patchy and albino white, his skin was a sickly yellow color (covered in painful boils), and his eyes--now all but blind without technology--were almost completely white. During the last close call, EMC internal security had zombified one of his own assistants; they used her to deliver a biological weapon that Sai had not been able--even with his formidable training--to counter.
He'd upgraded the rest of his assistants' implants to ensure something similar couldn't happen again, and had found a way to prolong what he had left of life, but there just wasn't much time left. A hacking cough, that brought up a mixture of blood and greenish phlegm, reminded him of that fact. So instead of even thinking about escape, he went back to work.
Looking around the lab, before he did so, he let out a sigh. In his youth, before he'd joined one of the many failed revolutions, he'd always been surrounded by the best facilities: private and EMC funding had taken him through the most promising schools and universities, before placing him in charge of one of the navy's R&D facilities. Now, however, he was stationed in a retrofitted barn outside of Moscow - gone were the shining banks of modern holo stations, and in their place a mishmash of technology ranging from the relatively new to the positively ancient; he even had an old quantum computer gathering dust in the corner.
At the center of it all was a surgery table, the only piece of cutting edge tech in the barn, upon which lay what appeared to be a bald human male (he didn't even have eyebrows yet). Of course, it was actually the most advanced simulated organism ever created - able to pass as a human, but with capabilities far in advance (even with all the recent innovations) of any man or woman, and more importantly--if he could get the damned thing activated and on its way to Angelica--it offered the potentiality of fixing humankind's greatest mistake...
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
I felt quite insulted. The aliens had come, seeking destruction. They had reviewed all of their known space and we were the answer, the only species stupidly dangerous enough to help them fight off the neverending aggressions of their enemy. That was public knowledge, the high powered broadcast they sent out upon their arrival made sure of that. Every TV channel, every radio broadcast drowned out by the signal. Even empty tin cans and rocks with a heavy iron content seemed to hum out the message. What was not public knowledge however was that we had already agreed to help. To send our best. To send our worst. The most dangerous, destructive man on the planet to aid them. They had sent me.
I guess you would call me a psychopath. I never did feel much in life, happiness eluded me but sadness never showed up either. I killed my first man at 12. He tried to touch me. I stopped him. Stopped him with a rock. I didn't feel any different after that, didn't feel the emotions that I had expected to feel. I killed three more that year. The parents of a school friend who had upset me. The man at the bus stop who annoyed me with his grumpy old opinions. It was just the start of a long life of death. I joined the army at 16. I never did quite fit in. I was relatively funny and the others accepted me well enough, but I had a look in my eyes when I killed that they never could get used to. One admitted to me later that it was more like lust than terror. It must have been true because after that I felt it for what it really was. Lust. Lust for death. Lust for the feeling of life that came only from playing the balance. I received my medals and dishonourable discharge on the same day. The officers never did ask me what really had happened that day. I don't think they really wanted to know.
I excelled as a mercenary. Killing for money. I had no need for the money, but it was a bonus, a cherry on the top of my cake. My first arrest was in America, I slipped up and left some blood at the scene. They compared it to records going back all 29 years of my life and found at least a third of my other crimes. Hundreds of murders to my name. My cell was built especially for me, a nice touch I felt, they respected my talent. It was portable my cell, so that they would never need to let me out. Never need to expose the world to the risk that I would pose. I'm still in my cell now. Flying at speeds that shouldn't exist in physics as we know it. Approaching something almost as dangerous as me. I'm still feeling quite insulted, but there's something else, something deeper.
Lust.
**[Edit: Part two](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/38w47q/wp_a_multitude_of_alien_ships_warp_within_range/crzc6mo)** as requested by u/DINDU___NUFFIN
|
The Zoom of a warp drive, a measurement of exact strength of a vaccuum, (a tricky thing, measuring vaccuum's within a vaccuum!) heated and shook. A contraption built from scrap metal and crap from the outer rim of this solar system.
Kazim was grateful though. In one of the human's furthest reasing trashcan's there was a golden disk... With just enough gold to transfer a high definition message from one of their space stations...
which of course, Kazim would have to take over quietly, and without giving anything away. Which is why the zoom of the space drive, was rather annoying, when usually be found it an impressive thing.
Then Kazim felt ridiculous. He was worrying about sounds in space.
Though, If they found out the truth about him and defenselessness, or his odd intentions, that would be the end of it.
Hostile, primitive life... *They'd likely want to cut me into pieces*, he thought. He considered the little simians, prying and probing him with their glasses and metal.
He was glad his skin was thicker than the indigenous people's. They would have a harder time cutting him open. Something told him though, this animals specialty wasn't in it's brute force, or sharp tools. (Though they did walk on two legs, instead of the polite four. They are like arrogant savages, compared to Protosimians as far as Kazim was concerned.)
All the more reason not to trust them!
He had his eye on one space station in particular. It seemed to issue commands to other nearby satellites. A whole system Kazim could broadcast from..! Imagine the possibilities.
Again, he was thankful for the golden disc. It had some odd mark's on it. He was pretty impressed that cave dwelling primates managed to send a valuable piece of material like this into space... Though they did graffiti it. None the less. They probably knew about it's high definition capabilities.
Impressive.
Kazim had to give it to them.
Literally. He would need it to transfer his images to their communication devices, and try to take over the planet. He would look like a fool back home if he couldn't handle a species so primitive... And his people would never hear the excuse, of his ship being eaten by a Cthulhu... or that he lost to these sub-protosimians.
Whatever the problem, he couldn't stop now. He had come too far. Faught through too much to be made a fool of.
Everyone back home would know his name, when he offered them a new vacation destination, with a commercially enslaved people to serve them.
When Kazim's trashcan powered Zoom drive pressurized him close enough to the space station, he pulled over a mask on the face of his suit, and exited The pod, drifting to the door.
His suit stuck to it. He banged on the space station.
he waited.
A very alarmed man was screaming inside in a matter of minutes.
Kazim held up a piece of paper. "Tell No One."
For lack of a better word, their faces were incredulous.
It was some time, but they finally let him in.
Some hours later, a message arrived everywhere on earth in all the languages of the people on the station.
Unfortunately, the only language was russian.
"We come in peace. In all the universe only one other species has mastered death and destruction as the human race has. We need your help."
Kazim Imagined that this message would get him taken directly to their leaders, with access to their weapons. But since the messaged arrived only in Russian, to everyone on the planet, most of the world was left with conspiracy theories, and the Russians laughed it off.
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
"You mean... we're actually more advanced than you? How is that possible? You came all the way here from... where, again?" President Clarke asked.
"Ah, ha ha. No, not more *advanced*, per se," Admiral OJ Simpson responded with an uncomfortable chuckle and shifted in his seat. "Just better at... what was that phrase, again?" he asked his second-in-command, Admiral Stalin.
"Fucking shit up, sir?"
"Fucking shit up. That's the one. Our technology is eons more advanced than yours, but you're better at fucking shit up. Every time our ancestors made a breakthrough in any field of learning, they immediately banded together to think of the most widely beneficial use for the new technology. Every time *your* ancestors made a breakthrough in any field, their first thought seems to have been directed towards using it to fuck shit up. That's why we've come to you."
Clarke still didn't quite catch on. "You want us to... what? Sorry."
"We want you to tell us how to use what we already have to fuck shit up."
"Ah, ok. Well, we'll do what we can," answered the President, speaking on behalf of a large gathering of Earth's political leaders, scientists, and military geniuses.
"Yeah. That brings me to my next point: we appreciate your bringing your scientists in here, but what we'd really like would be for you to bring in those... those guys. Ah, shoot. Stalin, those guys? Who were they again?"
"7-year-old boys, sir."
"Right, yes."
"Also Michael Bay."
"*Yes*! One of the few adults who has retained the incredible power of the 7-year-old boy: to instantly weaponise every object he sees with the sheer force of imagination. Please bring in several 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay."
***
In a few hours' time, the room now contained several 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay. At Admiral OJ Simpson's request, the centre of the room had been occupied by a large table containing everyday objects that the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, could use to stimulate their creativity. With everyone settled in, their work began.
"Do you know how to split adams?" Jakob asked.
"Yes," a Garion scientist replied.
"Sweeeeet," said Jakob.
"Sweeeet," said the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay.
"Why do you ask?" inquired the Garion scientist.
"Well to make a thermonukular bomb you have to split adams. Then the adams split and there's like this super energy that comes out like *bloah* and *psssssshht* and *whrkkkkkkkkkkt* and *dujje dujje dujje*," Jakob explained, using a Barbie Dream Car and a plastic frying pan to illustrate.
"A thermonukular bomb, you say? How does such a thing work?"
"Well," piped in one of the human scientists, "for starters, it's actually pronounced *nu-cle-ar*."
"Whatever, egghead. We can figure out the science stuff, thanks. I asked how it *works*. How do we use a bomb?"
"It's totally awesome!!" Oliver cried, leaping out of his chair. "You have to put it on a rocket, right? And like the rocket has like this flames out the back like *hhhhhhhkkkkkkKKKKKKKKKK* **KKKKKKKKK** ***PPPPPPKKKKKKKKT***! And the rocket goes like right to the bad guys' ship or whatever, and the ship is like --"
"AND THE SHIP IS LIKE ***BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWMMMMMM!!!!!!!***" shouted Michael Bay, crashing his hands together with such force that than oak branch and harmonica he'd been holding were utterly obliterated. "It's totally fucking awesome!!!!!"
The room fell silent as the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, recognised the gravity of the terrible cuss that Michael Bay had just said. However, the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, quickly realised that nobody's moms were around, and so they weren't gonna get grounded.
"Fart!" yelled Aiden, breaking the silence with at least 8 minutes of uncontrollable laughter from the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay.
When the laughter died down, Admiral Pol Pot asked the question that he and the Garion staff felt may hold the answer to their future and the survival of their species:
"How do we make a rocket?"
Samuel really liked rockets and even made one with his dad last summer, so everyone felt that he would be the most qualified to explain.
"You guys have ships, right?"
"Yes, we do."
"Fast ones?"
"Yes, Samuel."
"How fast? Faster than a Lamborghini?"
"Yes. Much faster."
"Sweet," said Michael Bay.
"Sweeeeeet," said the 7-year-old boys.
"Ok, then," said Samuel, with a very serious look. "Alls you do is, like you put a nuclear bomb *in* a ship, and then fly it real fast into the bad guy ship, and make it so it blows up when it gets there. But don't have anyone fly the ship. The ship should be like remote-controlled. Then you just blow the bad guys up."
By way of demonstration, Samuel proceeded to smash a violin on the edge of the table.
The Garion delegation sat back for a few moments in stunned silence.
"It's so simple," said Admiral OJ Simpson. "It's so *simple*. Thank you, boys. Thank you, Michael Bay! We are going to make a thermonukular bomb and we are going to *fuck those aliens' shit up!!*"
"Fart," said Aiden.
|
The Zoom of a warp drive, a measurement of exact strength of a vaccuum, (a tricky thing, measuring vaccuum's within a vaccuum!) heated and shook. A contraption built from scrap metal and crap from the outer rim of this solar system.
Kazim was grateful though. In one of the human's furthest reasing trashcan's there was a golden disk... With just enough gold to transfer a high definition message from one of their space stations...
which of course, Kazim would have to take over quietly, and without giving anything away. Which is why the zoom of the space drive, was rather annoying, when usually be found it an impressive thing.
Then Kazim felt ridiculous. He was worrying about sounds in space.
Though, If they found out the truth about him and defenselessness, or his odd intentions, that would be the end of it.
Hostile, primitive life... *They'd likely want to cut me into pieces*, he thought. He considered the little simians, prying and probing him with their glasses and metal.
He was glad his skin was thicker than the indigenous people's. They would have a harder time cutting him open. Something told him though, this animals specialty wasn't in it's brute force, or sharp tools. (Though they did walk on two legs, instead of the polite four. They are like arrogant savages, compared to Protosimians as far as Kazim was concerned.)
All the more reason not to trust them!
He had his eye on one space station in particular. It seemed to issue commands to other nearby satellites. A whole system Kazim could broadcast from..! Imagine the possibilities.
Again, he was thankful for the golden disc. It had some odd mark's on it. He was pretty impressed that cave dwelling primates managed to send a valuable piece of material like this into space... Though they did graffiti it. None the less. They probably knew about it's high definition capabilities.
Impressive.
Kazim had to give it to them.
Literally. He would need it to transfer his images to their communication devices, and try to take over the planet. He would look like a fool back home if he couldn't handle a species so primitive... And his people would never hear the excuse, of his ship being eaten by a Cthulhu... or that he lost to these sub-protosimians.
Whatever the problem, he couldn't stop now. He had come too far. Faught through too much to be made a fool of.
Everyone back home would know his name, when he offered them a new vacation destination, with a commercially enslaved people to serve them.
When Kazim's trashcan powered Zoom drive pressurized him close enough to the space station, he pulled over a mask on the face of his suit, and exited The pod, drifting to the door.
His suit stuck to it. He banged on the space station.
he waited.
A very alarmed man was screaming inside in a matter of minutes.
Kazim held up a piece of paper. "Tell No One."
For lack of a better word, their faces were incredulous.
It was some time, but they finally let him in.
Some hours later, a message arrived everywhere on earth in all the languages of the people on the station.
Unfortunately, the only language was russian.
"We come in peace. In all the universe only one other species has mastered death and destruction as the human race has. We need your help."
Kazim Imagined that this message would get him taken directly to their leaders, with access to their weapons. But since the messaged arrived only in Russian, to everyone on the planet, most of the world was left with conspiracy theories, and the Russians laughed it off.
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
"So, these guys could wipe you off the face of the universe," President Walter said with a wide grin. "And you could do nothing about? No death rays? Giant robots? Small robots? Nothing?"
Although his big black eyes were unreadable to humans, the President and the rest of the UN Security Council noticed the little grey alien looked increasingly uncomfortable. Walters was not the only one beaming.
"That will cost you, you know," Walters continued. "We want access to all your shiny toys. Computers, spaceships, reactors, matter replicators. Henry, give me the list."
Walters handed the alien a printout that had taken the experts a few hours to compile and the Council a few weeks to negotiate. "Just to be clear, Ambassador. We want blueprints, manuals, text books. We want to be able to understand this stuff, not just replicate it."
"My experts told me that you have to redo most of your physical theories for that," the ambassador said. "Are you willing to do that? Can your scientists survive that humiliation?"
Walters looked puzzled. The closest person to a scientist he knew was his science advisor. And that guy loved to be corrected. Henry abandoned wrong theories faster than Walters abandoned deals that went sour.
"Leave that to us, Ambassador. Get us the data and we take care of the rest."
The little alien stared at the group of leaders, then dissolved into a cloud of sparkles. The ambassador had returned to his ship. Ten minutes later, a crystal appeared in front of each nation's leader. A single sheet of plastic accompanied it, carrying the instructions how to read the data.
* * *
"Henry, explain that again. But this time leave out all the science jargon and explain it like i'm five."
"Well, Mr President. The other side is about as advanced as we are. We are equal. They have death rays, we have them. They have big space ships, we can have them in a few weeks if we want. They have nanotechnology, bio weapons, you name it. We have all that too."
"Hmm. Mutually assured destruction all over again. Are the Grey behind this? I mean, they confessed they abducted people to find out about us. You don't do that if you're a nice alien."
"They're just desperate. You've seen the videos of the invasion fleet. Our scouts have mapped each and every ship. Those Reds can destroy all Grey worlds three times over."
"Hmm. And we can contact the Reds?"
"Yes, Sir. The interstellar communicators can lock onto their ships as well as onto ours."
"Get me their boss on the line. And project the map of the universe so that I can share my screen with him," Walters said, proud of himself that he had learned a bit of technology slang.
Dr Henry sighed. The communication link was easy to set up. There was, however, no line involved and no screen either.
* * *
"And you, puny being, speak for your planet," the holographic representation of the Red King boomed.
"I am," Walters said, while he walked around the seven feet lizard, inspecting him from all sides. "And I have a suggestion. A deal if you will."
"We do not make deals with food."
"Ahh, yes. And we usually don't make deals with pets, but let's both make a exception today," Walters said. "I assume, you heard the Grey upgraded our technology a bit."
"They are food. Nothing they do is of consequence. Food with spaceships is still food," the Red King boomed.
"But we have equipped these spaceships with death rays," Walters said. "Based on the technology of the Grey."
The Red King's hologram flickered for a few seconds. Walters assumed that he was talking to his aides and therefore waited patiently.
"What do you want, President Walters," the Red King asked.
Walters pointed to the map of the galaxy. The Red Kingdom formed a giant red cloud, encompassing many star systems. The mist that illustrated the Grey empire was easily ten times as big. A small blue ring pulsated slightly. Earth was surrounded by Grey space.
"We can do each other a lot of damage. Our simulations show that we could eradicate each other in a short, bloody war. All that would remain is this," Walters said and nodded to Dr Henry. The red cloud was swallowed by the grey mist. The blue ring stopped pulsating.
"That is true, Earthling. Do you want to negotiate for peace? How do you intend to pay?"
Walters nodded again and the Grey mist shrunk to its original size. It continued to shrink while the Red cloud expanded. So did a blue cloud, with the pulsating ring at its centre. The red and the blue cloud met when each filled about half the known universe.
"With an empire, King. We might not make deals with pets, but we make deals with equals."
|
The Zoom of a warp drive, a measurement of exact strength of a vaccuum, (a tricky thing, measuring vaccuum's within a vaccuum!) heated and shook. A contraption built from scrap metal and crap from the outer rim of this solar system.
Kazim was grateful though. In one of the human's furthest reasing trashcan's there was a golden disk... With just enough gold to transfer a high definition message from one of their space stations...
which of course, Kazim would have to take over quietly, and without giving anything away. Which is why the zoom of the space drive, was rather annoying, when usually be found it an impressive thing.
Then Kazim felt ridiculous. He was worrying about sounds in space.
Though, If they found out the truth about him and defenselessness, or his odd intentions, that would be the end of it.
Hostile, primitive life... *They'd likely want to cut me into pieces*, he thought. He considered the little simians, prying and probing him with their glasses and metal.
He was glad his skin was thicker than the indigenous people's. They would have a harder time cutting him open. Something told him though, this animals specialty wasn't in it's brute force, or sharp tools. (Though they did walk on two legs, instead of the polite four. They are like arrogant savages, compared to Protosimians as far as Kazim was concerned.)
All the more reason not to trust them!
He had his eye on one space station in particular. It seemed to issue commands to other nearby satellites. A whole system Kazim could broadcast from..! Imagine the possibilities.
Again, he was thankful for the golden disc. It had some odd mark's on it. He was pretty impressed that cave dwelling primates managed to send a valuable piece of material like this into space... Though they did graffiti it. None the less. They probably knew about it's high definition capabilities.
Impressive.
Kazim had to give it to them.
Literally. He would need it to transfer his images to their communication devices, and try to take over the planet. He would look like a fool back home if he couldn't handle a species so primitive... And his people would never hear the excuse, of his ship being eaten by a Cthulhu... or that he lost to these sub-protosimians.
Whatever the problem, he couldn't stop now. He had come too far. Faught through too much to be made a fool of.
Everyone back home would know his name, when he offered them a new vacation destination, with a commercially enslaved people to serve them.
When Kazim's trashcan powered Zoom drive pressurized him close enough to the space station, he pulled over a mask on the face of his suit, and exited The pod, drifting to the door.
His suit stuck to it. He banged on the space station.
he waited.
A very alarmed man was screaming inside in a matter of minutes.
Kazim held up a piece of paper. "Tell No One."
For lack of a better word, their faces were incredulous.
It was some time, but they finally let him in.
Some hours later, a message arrived everywhere on earth in all the languages of the people on the station.
Unfortunately, the only language was russian.
"We come in peace. In all the universe only one other species has mastered death and destruction as the human race has. We need your help."
Kazim Imagined that this message would get him taken directly to their leaders, with access to their weapons. But since the messaged arrived only in Russian, to everyone on the planet, most of the world was left with conspiracy theories, and the Russians laughed it off.
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
The Council slowly came to order. 3 species from different worlds, all of them peaceful and advanced, with a 500 year history of being the closest of allies.
And yet, this discussion might just break them apart.
Council Member Grak, tall and slender beneath the iridescent scales of his race, stood from among his delegation. "Good morning to you all. We come together today to discuss the progress of the fighting in NR-347 and NR-..."
Council Member Helios stood and interrupted Grak. "We all are aware of the fighting, even with it coming 50 years early!" Helios was hot tempered, and more prone to outbursts than the rest of his race. His 4 eyes glared balefully from his broad brown snout. "The Enemy is pushing us and our forces are barely holding. If we had not gone along with your mad scheme to arm those... *primatives* then we would have another full fleet to put on the line!"
Grak exhaled through his secondary membrane. Helios led a faction in the Council that favored simply blockading the Border Worlds and letting the Frontier fall to the enemy. When Grak had convinced the Council to give the Humans a full fleet of ships to prepare for the invasion, the rest of the 100 member assembly had assumed that they would actually be put to use. It had been the ethical thing to do, since their world was in the path of the Enemy and Humans were the only species in the area to be even close to a useful buffer. However, since the delivery of ships the only word from them was an acknowledgement of the news that fighting had started.
The Humans were... strange. All of the other Council races had been at peace with themselves for their whole histories. Descended from 2 herd races and a hive mind, fighting was simply outside their nature. Even attempting genetic manipulation to create their own soldiers had been a disaster. Hiring the Humans as mercenaries had seemed a perfect solution. There were enough of them, and they bred quickly enough, that there should have been a wall of them across the Frontier already.
Even as Grak tried to think of a counter to the arguments still issuing from his counterpart, one of the Xin stood from their delegation and the translator hummed to life. <<Queen. Alarm. Approach. Foes. Danger. Danger.>>
Grak was surprised. The Xin, looking like crabs with fingers instead of claws almost never showed any signs of concern. For them to show that now....
A guard came into the 4th chamber of the Council Hall looking as if wildfire burned behind him. "My Honors, there is a... a representative here. He demands audience!"
The Hall burst into shouts and sounds of panic. The Enemy *here*? Even as the doors opened the panic only subsided when a two legged shape came in past the lights. A black uniform and rows of colorful markings across the chest meant that this was a member of the Human military from what Grak recalled. Within ten steps, the only sound was the clicking of the Human's shoes on the stone floor as he mounted the steps to the guest podium.
"I am Fleet Commodore Da Gang. I have been sent to you to take Earth's first place on this Council."
Outrage thundered from Helios' corner of the room. Grak was not far from joining him. To demand this...!
Helios quieted his fellows and spoke. "Human, it has been 10 years and you have been silent. Now you come demanding honor as equals?! This is beyond madness! While you have been cowering, our forces have bled and died holding back the Enemy!"
Grak tuned out the tirade and watched the Human. His face changed not at all, without a twitch against the force of Helios' anger. It was worrying. Grak had not risen as far as he had without knowing when he saw a trap.
Da Gang stood with his hands behind his back, silently waiting for Helios to run out of steam. When he had the attention of the Council again, he began.
"Honors, I have been sent not just with our claim to join this Council, but also to show what we have done for a war that is, I remind you, YOUR war."
Waving an attendant forward, Da Gang began a presentation on an unfamiliar holo-emitter. "You presented us with a fleet of ships and asked us to use them to fight your Enemy. We found quickly that your ships were.... inadequate... for the task."
The visions of most of the fleet being blotted out among the stars filled the room. No one dared speak. Helios had all of his eyes fixed on the violence. His concession to allowing the Humans to have the ships was that they would be aging hulks. Grak imagined that there was some regret of that now.
Da Gang continued. "Luckily for us, however, we took some of the ships and took them apart. We learned how to make the technology you gifted us. And then we improved it."
The images changed to a moon being disassembled for materials. The shipyards above what Grak recognized as the 5th planet of their home system filled 2 entire Lagrange points. To have done all this.... to have done all this in a mere *10* *years* was unthinkable.
"Our weapons are now 50% more powerful than what the Enemy uses. As you can see," the stars making up the Human's spiral arm now dominated the room, "we have pushed back this Invasion approximately 7% since our new ships have come into use."
Flickering red dots showed the sites of battles, scattered like drops of the Humans' red blood. Several of the Enemy's colony worlds were marked. A frown crossed Grak's face. "Fleet Commodore, what are the black spots with the yellow rings?" Dread made his voice faint, but Da Gang heard him.
"After the early defeats, we needed a weapon that the enemy could not fight off. We had many of your star-drives ready, so we used them."
The images changed again. Dreadnaught engines strapped to... asteroids? But why would.... No. No, not even a race that fought itself could be so deranged.
"As you can see, these black spots are Enemy holdings that have been... neutralized."
Helios wept as the Council watched worlds burn. "How could you have done this? What have you done?"
Da Gang's expression finally changed. To surprise.
"We did as you asked."
"We brought you victory."
EDIT: [Part 2 included](https://docs.google.com/document/d/14NoT0Myy4fJGmiEiwquxhsXTaNAZoT7ZpqRBc8HjSfc/edit?usp=sharing)
|
The Zoom of a warp drive, a measurement of exact strength of a vaccuum, (a tricky thing, measuring vaccuum's within a vaccuum!) heated and shook. A contraption built from scrap metal and crap from the outer rim of this solar system.
Kazim was grateful though. In one of the human's furthest reasing trashcan's there was a golden disk... With just enough gold to transfer a high definition message from one of their space stations...
which of course, Kazim would have to take over quietly, and without giving anything away. Which is why the zoom of the space drive, was rather annoying, when usually be found it an impressive thing.
Then Kazim felt ridiculous. He was worrying about sounds in space.
Though, If they found out the truth about him and defenselessness, or his odd intentions, that would be the end of it.
Hostile, primitive life... *They'd likely want to cut me into pieces*, he thought. He considered the little simians, prying and probing him with their glasses and metal.
He was glad his skin was thicker than the indigenous people's. They would have a harder time cutting him open. Something told him though, this animals specialty wasn't in it's brute force, or sharp tools. (Though they did walk on two legs, instead of the polite four. They are like arrogant savages, compared to Protosimians as far as Kazim was concerned.)
All the more reason not to trust them!
He had his eye on one space station in particular. It seemed to issue commands to other nearby satellites. A whole system Kazim could broadcast from..! Imagine the possibilities.
Again, he was thankful for the golden disc. It had some odd mark's on it. He was pretty impressed that cave dwelling primates managed to send a valuable piece of material like this into space... Though they did graffiti it. None the less. They probably knew about it's high definition capabilities.
Impressive.
Kazim had to give it to them.
Literally. He would need it to transfer his images to their communication devices, and try to take over the planet. He would look like a fool back home if he couldn't handle a species so primitive... And his people would never hear the excuse, of his ship being eaten by a Cthulhu... or that he lost to these sub-protosimians.
Whatever the problem, he couldn't stop now. He had come too far. Faught through too much to be made a fool of.
Everyone back home would know his name, when he offered them a new vacation destination, with a commercially enslaved people to serve them.
When Kazim's trashcan powered Zoom drive pressurized him close enough to the space station, he pulled over a mask on the face of his suit, and exited The pod, drifting to the door.
His suit stuck to it. He banged on the space station.
he waited.
A very alarmed man was screaming inside in a matter of minutes.
Kazim held up a piece of paper. "Tell No One."
For lack of a better word, their faces were incredulous.
It was some time, but they finally let him in.
Some hours later, a message arrived everywhere on earth in all the languages of the people on the station.
Unfortunately, the only language was russian.
"We come in peace. In all the universe only one other species has mastered death and destruction as the human race has. We need your help."
Kazim Imagined that this message would get him taken directly to their leaders, with access to their weapons. But since the messaged arrived only in Russian, to everyone on the planet, most of the world was left with conspiracy theories, and the Russians laughed it off.
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
"Alien life forms, we acknowledge your signal. We expect you will understand ours. Send the dimensions of your vessel or vessels so that we might prepare a landing location.
Our technology is such that any trade, information sharing, or negotiation must be done on the surface. Earth's many factions are unanimous on this decision, so that no one nation is privileged.
We ask for your understanding while we attempt to assist you."
The transmission was sent. The UN council exchanged glances. Representatives sat along side national leaders. Given the gravity of the situation, no nation would miss the chance to be present.
US President Obama turned to Russia's seat at the security council forum, waving to get the leader's attention.
Putin disengaged from his aides and advisers to meet Obama in the middle of the floor.
"Vladimir... what do you uh... make of our chances here?"
Putin seemed to bounce the question around in his mind. He smiled. "Good, good. Let these people plan for failure - you and I -we plan for success."
Obama raised an eyebrow. "You can't plan just around success - that's called daydreaming."
"Fine then," said Putin, rolling his eyes, "let us get a daydream down on paper."
~Hours later~
The receivers and speakers set up around the Roscosmos / NASA station all buzzed to life. Printers began spooling paper out, and the speakers blared. The digital sounding alien voice roared through.
"We celebrate your acknowledgement, and will prepare our ambassadors to meet yours. We are transmitting the details of our vessel."
The eggheads at the science station lost it.
Special agents of numerous countries all studied the data along with the space agencies, reporting possible impact to their superiors.
Obama caught Putin out of the crowd and nodded. It was time. They sent out an urgent message to the other world leaders, and went to a top-secret conference chamber away from the UN floor and the noise.
The scene within was unique in history. As the last of the invited filtered in, an image of the alien spacecraft that had been received in the transmission appeared on the screen. Expert analysis of each part of the vessel spilled down in a multitude of languages.
Hundreds of the most powerful leaders from around the world all stared at the readout in silence.
It was finally broken by a familiar voice.
"The Russian Federation...is formally calling dibs on the engines."
Followed closely "The United States hereby calls dibs on the powerplant *and* the uhh fuel system."
The room erupted into a chaotic free-for-all - but there would be plenty of the alien ship to go around. It hardly mattered if it was metal or organic - it was all going to be useful. With over 10,000 lifeforms on board, it meant each of the attending nations could take at least 50.
This was going to be a great day for Earth.
|
The Zoom of a warp drive, a measurement of exact strength of a vaccuum, (a tricky thing, measuring vaccuum's within a vaccuum!) heated and shook. A contraption built from scrap metal and crap from the outer rim of this solar system.
Kazim was grateful though. In one of the human's furthest reasing trashcan's there was a golden disk... With just enough gold to transfer a high definition message from one of their space stations...
which of course, Kazim would have to take over quietly, and without giving anything away. Which is why the zoom of the space drive, was rather annoying, when usually be found it an impressive thing.
Then Kazim felt ridiculous. He was worrying about sounds in space.
Though, If they found out the truth about him and defenselessness, or his odd intentions, that would be the end of it.
Hostile, primitive life... *They'd likely want to cut me into pieces*, he thought. He considered the little simians, prying and probing him with their glasses and metal.
He was glad his skin was thicker than the indigenous people's. They would have a harder time cutting him open. Something told him though, this animals specialty wasn't in it's brute force, or sharp tools. (Though they did walk on two legs, instead of the polite four. They are like arrogant savages, compared to Protosimians as far as Kazim was concerned.)
All the more reason not to trust them!
He had his eye on one space station in particular. It seemed to issue commands to other nearby satellites. A whole system Kazim could broadcast from..! Imagine the possibilities.
Again, he was thankful for the golden disc. It had some odd mark's on it. He was pretty impressed that cave dwelling primates managed to send a valuable piece of material like this into space... Though they did graffiti it. None the less. They probably knew about it's high definition capabilities.
Impressive.
Kazim had to give it to them.
Literally. He would need it to transfer his images to their communication devices, and try to take over the planet. He would look like a fool back home if he couldn't handle a species so primitive... And his people would never hear the excuse, of his ship being eaten by a Cthulhu... or that he lost to these sub-protosimians.
Whatever the problem, he couldn't stop now. He had come too far. Faught through too much to be made a fool of.
Everyone back home would know his name, when he offered them a new vacation destination, with a commercially enslaved people to serve them.
When Kazim's trashcan powered Zoom drive pressurized him close enough to the space station, he pulled over a mask on the face of his suit, and exited The pod, drifting to the door.
His suit stuck to it. He banged on the space station.
he waited.
A very alarmed man was screaming inside in a matter of minutes.
Kazim held up a piece of paper. "Tell No One."
For lack of a better word, their faces were incredulous.
It was some time, but they finally let him in.
Some hours later, a message arrived everywhere on earth in all the languages of the people on the station.
Unfortunately, the only language was russian.
"We come in peace. In all the universe only one other species has mastered death and destruction as the human race has. We need your help."
Kazim Imagined that this message would get him taken directly to their leaders, with access to their weapons. But since the messaged arrived only in Russian, to everyone on the planet, most of the world was left with conspiracy theories, and the Russians laughed it off.
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
"Technology for violence is – hum – a concept we cannot really grasp", the Simian said, averting General Serling's
eyes.
*Simian*… The general thought it funny that, when humanity found out that the aliens descended from the same
branch of the evolution tree as we did, we decided to call *them* simians.
*Like we are any different*, Serling thought. *Like we are somehow above them.*
"But it comes naturally to you. No offense", the Simian continued, still uncomfortable. "Which is why we are here."
"What do we know about these creatures that are attacking your planet?"
"Artificial Intelligence", the Simian explain. "Silicon based and extremely deadly. And we have very limited means of fighting back, as you know."
"And why are they attacking? Where are they coming from? What's their technology like?"
"We don't know, we don't know and extremely advanced", the Simian answered. "In that order."
"It seems a bit odd that these -- *robots* -- are attacking you for no particular reason", Serling said. "And that you
don't even know where they are coming from."
"However that may be, we have a feeling we are the only ones they are going after", the Simian
said, simply. "We request your help because we feel it would be mutually beneficial."
To Serling's side, the secretary general of the United Nations looked thoughtful. So did the president.
But this had all been months before. Now Serling was sitting on his office trying to think of how he was going to
explain to the secretary general of the UN and the president of the United States that –
"General Serling", the president said, in his low voice, entering the room. The secretary followed. "What are the
reports from Kepler?"
"Mr. President. Mr. Secretary General", Serling said, getting up. "I have –"
"There's no need to get up", the secretary said, taking a seat across the table from Serling.
The president took a seat too, and they both locked their gaze on the general, waiting.
"Ok", Serling whispered, feeling his heart race. He had barely returned from a 500 light years travel, and the jet lag wasn't helping. "All right. You are both aware, of course, that the attack is still happening in the --"
"Yes, we are both aware the Simians are under attack still."
Serling took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll get to the point. The Simians, they claim this attack is coming from
the Kepler System. That's their suspicion. This, huh --"
"This is why we sent you to the Kepler system, general Serling", the president said, in an impatient voice. "Could
you please get to the point? Have you found out where these robots are coming from?"
"Yes, sir. Kepler 186f", Serling answered, and now his voice could no longer hide his nervousness.
"Kepler 186f is a confirmed, non-inhabited planet", the secretary general said. "It's actually an human-friendly planet, and is being considered as an alternate Earth for quite some time. You, of all people, should know this, Serling."
"Yes", Serling answered. "Yes, you are right. The planet is deserted. *Now.*"
"Then where are the robots coming from?" The president asked, and now he was straight of pissed.
Serling took a deep breath again. "Sir, they're coming from the future."
Neither of the man said anything, and Serling took a sip of his empty mug of coffee.
"The future?"
"Mr. President. Mr. Secretary-General", Serling managed to blurt out, finally. "We are sending these robots from future Kepler 186f. Us. Humans."
The secretary general and the president exchanged glances.
"We?"
"Yes", Serling answered. He took another phantom sip of coffee. "Humans are coming back in time to kill the
Simians. And the Simians want our help fighting back."
__________________
Thanks for reading!
[Here's Part II](http://www.reddit.com/r/psycho_alpaca/comments/38wh0d/simians_part_ii/) =)
[And Part III](http://www.reddit.com/r/psycho_alpaca/comments/38wrev/simians_part_iii/)
[Part IV (Final)](http://www.reddit.com/r/psycho_alpaca/comments/38z9aq/simians_part_iv_final/)
|
The Zoom of a warp drive, a measurement of exact strength of a vaccuum, (a tricky thing, measuring vaccuum's within a vaccuum!) heated and shook. A contraption built from scrap metal and crap from the outer rim of this solar system.
Kazim was grateful though. In one of the human's furthest reasing trashcan's there was a golden disk... With just enough gold to transfer a high definition message from one of their space stations...
which of course, Kazim would have to take over quietly, and without giving anything away. Which is why the zoom of the space drive, was rather annoying, when usually be found it an impressive thing.
Then Kazim felt ridiculous. He was worrying about sounds in space.
Though, If they found out the truth about him and defenselessness, or his odd intentions, that would be the end of it.
Hostile, primitive life... *They'd likely want to cut me into pieces*, he thought. He considered the little simians, prying and probing him with their glasses and metal.
He was glad his skin was thicker than the indigenous people's. They would have a harder time cutting him open. Something told him though, this animals specialty wasn't in it's brute force, or sharp tools. (Though they did walk on two legs, instead of the polite four. They are like arrogant savages, compared to Protosimians as far as Kazim was concerned.)
All the more reason not to trust them!
He had his eye on one space station in particular. It seemed to issue commands to other nearby satellites. A whole system Kazim could broadcast from..! Imagine the possibilities.
Again, he was thankful for the golden disc. It had some odd mark's on it. He was pretty impressed that cave dwelling primates managed to send a valuable piece of material like this into space... Though they did graffiti it. None the less. They probably knew about it's high definition capabilities.
Impressive.
Kazim had to give it to them.
Literally. He would need it to transfer his images to their communication devices, and try to take over the planet. He would look like a fool back home if he couldn't handle a species so primitive... And his people would never hear the excuse, of his ship being eaten by a Cthulhu... or that he lost to these sub-protosimians.
Whatever the problem, he couldn't stop now. He had come too far. Faught through too much to be made a fool of.
Everyone back home would know his name, when he offered them a new vacation destination, with a commercially enslaved people to serve them.
When Kazim's trashcan powered Zoom drive pressurized him close enough to the space station, he pulled over a mask on the face of his suit, and exited The pod, drifting to the door.
His suit stuck to it. He banged on the space station.
he waited.
A very alarmed man was screaming inside in a matter of minutes.
Kazim held up a piece of paper. "Tell No One."
For lack of a better word, their faces were incredulous.
It was some time, but they finally let him in.
Some hours later, a message arrived everywhere on earth in all the languages of the people on the station.
Unfortunately, the only language was russian.
"We come in peace. In all the universe only one other species has mastered death and destruction as the human race has. We need your help."
Kazim Imagined that this message would get him taken directly to their leaders, with access to their weapons. But since the messaged arrived only in Russian, to everyone on the planet, most of the world was left with conspiracy theories, and the Russians laughed it off.
|
|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
"You mean... we're actually more advanced than you? How is that possible? You came all the way here from... where, again?" President Clarke asked.
"Ah, ha ha. No, not more *advanced*, per se," Admiral OJ Simpson responded with an uncomfortable chuckle and shifted in his seat. "Just better at... what was that phrase, again?" he asked his second-in-command, Admiral Stalin.
"Fucking shit up, sir?"
"Fucking shit up. That's the one. Our technology is eons more advanced than yours, but you're better at fucking shit up. Every time our ancestors made a breakthrough in any field of learning, they immediately banded together to think of the most widely beneficial use for the new technology. Every time *your* ancestors made a breakthrough in any field, their first thought seems to have been directed towards using it to fuck shit up. That's why we've come to you."
Clarke still didn't quite catch on. "You want us to... what? Sorry."
"We want you to tell us how to use what we already have to fuck shit up."
"Ah, ok. Well, we'll do what we can," answered the President, speaking on behalf of a large gathering of Earth's political leaders, scientists, and military geniuses.
"Yeah. That brings me to my next point: we appreciate your bringing your scientists in here, but what we'd really like would be for you to bring in those... those guys. Ah, shoot. Stalin, those guys? Who were they again?"
"7-year-old boys, sir."
"Right, yes."
"Also Michael Bay."
"*Yes*! One of the few adults who has retained the incredible power of the 7-year-old boy: to instantly weaponise every object he sees with the sheer force of imagination. Please bring in several 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay."
***
In a few hours' time, the room now contained several 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay. At Admiral OJ Simpson's request, the centre of the room had been occupied by a large table containing everyday objects that the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, could use to stimulate their creativity. With everyone settled in, their work began.
"Do you know how to split adams?" Jakob asked.
"Yes," a Garion scientist replied.
"Sweeeeet," said Jakob.
"Sweeeet," said the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay.
"Why do you ask?" inquired the Garion scientist.
"Well to make a thermonukular bomb you have to split adams. Then the adams split and there's like this super energy that comes out like *bloah* and *psssssshht* and *whrkkkkkkkkkkt* and *dujje dujje dujje*," Jakob explained, using a Barbie Dream Car and a plastic frying pan to illustrate.
"A thermonukular bomb, you say? How does such a thing work?"
"Well," piped in one of the human scientists, "for starters, it's actually pronounced *nu-cle-ar*."
"Whatever, egghead. We can figure out the science stuff, thanks. I asked how it *works*. How do we use a bomb?"
"It's totally awesome!!" Oliver cried, leaping out of his chair. "You have to put it on a rocket, right? And like the rocket has like this flames out the back like *hhhhhhhkkkkkkKKKKKKKKKK* **KKKKKKKKK** ***PPPPPPKKKKKKKKT***! And the rocket goes like right to the bad guys' ship or whatever, and the ship is like --"
"AND THE SHIP IS LIKE ***BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWMMMMMM!!!!!!!***" shouted Michael Bay, crashing his hands together with such force that than oak branch and harmonica he'd been holding were utterly obliterated. "It's totally fucking awesome!!!!!"
The room fell silent as the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, recognised the gravity of the terrible cuss that Michael Bay had just said. However, the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay, quickly realised that nobody's moms were around, and so they weren't gonna get grounded.
"Fart!" yelled Aiden, breaking the silence with at least 8 minutes of uncontrollable laughter from the 7-year-old boys, and also Michael Bay.
When the laughter died down, Admiral Pol Pot asked the question that he and the Garion staff felt may hold the answer to their future and the survival of their species:
"How do we make a rocket?"
Samuel really liked rockets and even made one with his dad last summer, so everyone felt that he would be the most qualified to explain.
"You guys have ships, right?"
"Yes, we do."
"Fast ones?"
"Yes, Samuel."
"How fast? Faster than a Lamborghini?"
"Yes. Much faster."
"Sweet," said Michael Bay.
"Sweeeeeet," said the 7-year-old boys.
"Ok, then," said Samuel, with a very serious look. "Alls you do is, like you put a nuclear bomb *in* a ship, and then fly it real fast into the bad guy ship, and make it so it blows up when it gets there. But don't have anyone fly the ship. The ship should be like remote-controlled. Then you just blow the bad guys up."
By way of demonstration, Samuel proceeded to smash a violin on the edge of the table.
The Garion delegation sat back for a few moments in stunned silence.
"It's so simple," said Admiral OJ Simpson. "It's so *simple*. Thank you, boys. Thank you, Michael Bay! We are going to make a thermonukular bomb and we are going to *fuck those aliens' shit up!!*"
"Fart," said Aiden.
|
I felt quite insulted. The aliens had come, seeking destruction. They had reviewed all of their known space and we were the answer, the only species stupidly dangerous enough to help them fight off the neverending aggressions of their enemy. That was public knowledge, the high powered broadcast they sent out upon their arrival made sure of that. Every TV channel, every radio broadcast drowned out by the signal. Even empty tin cans and rocks with a heavy iron content seemed to hum out the message. What was not public knowledge however was that we had already agreed to help. To send our best. To send our worst. The most dangerous, destructive man on the planet to aid them. They had sent me.
I guess you would call me a psychopath. I never did feel much in life, happiness eluded me but sadness never showed up either. I killed my first man at 12. He tried to touch me. I stopped him. Stopped him with a rock. I didn't feel any different after that, didn't feel the emotions that I had expected to feel. I killed three more that year. The parents of a school friend who had upset me. The man at the bus stop who annoyed me with his grumpy old opinions. It was just the start of a long life of death. I joined the army at 16. I never did quite fit in. I was relatively funny and the others accepted me well enough, but I had a look in my eyes when I killed that they never could get used to. One admitted to me later that it was more like lust than terror. It must have been true because after that I felt it for what it really was. Lust. Lust for death. Lust for the feeling of life that came only from playing the balance. I received my medals and dishonourable discharge on the same day. The officers never did ask me what really had happened that day. I don't think they really wanted to know.
I excelled as a mercenary. Killing for money. I had no need for the money, but it was a bonus, a cherry on the top of my cake. My first arrest was in America, I slipped up and left some blood at the scene. They compared it to records going back all 29 years of my life and found at least a third of my other crimes. Hundreds of murders to my name. My cell was built especially for me, a nice touch I felt, they respected my talent. It was portable my cell, so that they would never need to let me out. Never need to expose the world to the risk that I would pose. I'm still in my cell now. Flying at speeds that shouldn't exist in physics as we know it. Approaching something almost as dangerous as me. I'm still feeling quite insulted, but there's something else, something deeper.
Lust.
**[Edit: Part two](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/38w47q/wp_a_multitude_of_alien_ships_warp_within_range/crzc6mo)** as requested by u/DINDU___NUFFIN
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|
[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
"So, these guys could wipe you off the face of the universe," President Walter said with a wide grin. "And you could do nothing about? No death rays? Giant robots? Small robots? Nothing?"
Although his big black eyes were unreadable to humans, the President and the rest of the UN Security Council noticed the little grey alien looked increasingly uncomfortable. Walters was not the only one beaming.
"That will cost you, you know," Walters continued. "We want access to all your shiny toys. Computers, spaceships, reactors, matter replicators. Henry, give me the list."
Walters handed the alien a printout that had taken the experts a few hours to compile and the Council a few weeks to negotiate. "Just to be clear, Ambassador. We want blueprints, manuals, text books. We want to be able to understand this stuff, not just replicate it."
"My experts told me that you have to redo most of your physical theories for that," the ambassador said. "Are you willing to do that? Can your scientists survive that humiliation?"
Walters looked puzzled. The closest person to a scientist he knew was his science advisor. And that guy loved to be corrected. Henry abandoned wrong theories faster than Walters abandoned deals that went sour.
"Leave that to us, Ambassador. Get us the data and we take care of the rest."
The little alien stared at the group of leaders, then dissolved into a cloud of sparkles. The ambassador had returned to his ship. Ten minutes later, a crystal appeared in front of each nation's leader. A single sheet of plastic accompanied it, carrying the instructions how to read the data.
* * *
"Henry, explain that again. But this time leave out all the science jargon and explain it like i'm five."
"Well, Mr President. The other side is about as advanced as we are. We are equal. They have death rays, we have them. They have big space ships, we can have them in a few weeks if we want. They have nanotechnology, bio weapons, you name it. We have all that too."
"Hmm. Mutually assured destruction all over again. Are the Grey behind this? I mean, they confessed they abducted people to find out about us. You don't do that if you're a nice alien."
"They're just desperate. You've seen the videos of the invasion fleet. Our scouts have mapped each and every ship. Those Reds can destroy all Grey worlds three times over."
"Hmm. And we can contact the Reds?"
"Yes, Sir. The interstellar communicators can lock onto their ships as well as onto ours."
"Get me their boss on the line. And project the map of the universe so that I can share my screen with him," Walters said, proud of himself that he had learned a bit of technology slang.
Dr Henry sighed. The communication link was easy to set up. There was, however, no line involved and no screen either.
* * *
"And you, puny being, speak for your planet," the holographic representation of the Red King boomed.
"I am," Walters said, while he walked around the seven feet lizard, inspecting him from all sides. "And I have a suggestion. A deal if you will."
"We do not make deals with food."
"Ahh, yes. And we usually don't make deals with pets, but let's both make a exception today," Walters said. "I assume, you heard the Grey upgraded our technology a bit."
"They are food. Nothing they do is of consequence. Food with spaceships is still food," the Red King boomed.
"But we have equipped these spaceships with death rays," Walters said. "Based on the technology of the Grey."
The Red King's hologram flickered for a few seconds. Walters assumed that he was talking to his aides and therefore waited patiently.
"What do you want, President Walters," the Red King asked.
Walters pointed to the map of the galaxy. The Red Kingdom formed a giant red cloud, encompassing many star systems. The mist that illustrated the Grey empire was easily ten times as big. A small blue ring pulsated slightly. Earth was surrounded by Grey space.
"We can do each other a lot of damage. Our simulations show that we could eradicate each other in a short, bloody war. All that would remain is this," Walters said and nodded to Dr Henry. The red cloud was swallowed by the grey mist. The blue ring stopped pulsating.
"That is true, Earthling. Do you want to negotiate for peace? How do you intend to pay?"
Walters nodded again and the Grey mist shrunk to its original size. It continued to shrink while the Red cloud expanded. So did a blue cloud, with the pulsating ring at its centre. The red and the blue cloud met when each filled about half the known universe.
"With an empire, King. We might not make deals with pets, but we make deals with equals."
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I felt quite insulted. The aliens had come, seeking destruction. They had reviewed all of their known space and we were the answer, the only species stupidly dangerous enough to help them fight off the neverending aggressions of their enemy. That was public knowledge, the high powered broadcast they sent out upon their arrival made sure of that. Every TV channel, every radio broadcast drowned out by the signal. Even empty tin cans and rocks with a heavy iron content seemed to hum out the message. What was not public knowledge however was that we had already agreed to help. To send our best. To send our worst. The most dangerous, destructive man on the planet to aid them. They had sent me.
I guess you would call me a psychopath. I never did feel much in life, happiness eluded me but sadness never showed up either. I killed my first man at 12. He tried to touch me. I stopped him. Stopped him with a rock. I didn't feel any different after that, didn't feel the emotions that I had expected to feel. I killed three more that year. The parents of a school friend who had upset me. The man at the bus stop who annoyed me with his grumpy old opinions. It was just the start of a long life of death. I joined the army at 16. I never did quite fit in. I was relatively funny and the others accepted me well enough, but I had a look in my eyes when I killed that they never could get used to. One admitted to me later that it was more like lust than terror. It must have been true because after that I felt it for what it really was. Lust. Lust for death. Lust for the feeling of life that came only from playing the balance. I received my medals and dishonourable discharge on the same day. The officers never did ask me what really had happened that day. I don't think they really wanted to know.
I excelled as a mercenary. Killing for money. I had no need for the money, but it was a bonus, a cherry on the top of my cake. My first arrest was in America, I slipped up and left some blood at the scene. They compared it to records going back all 29 years of my life and found at least a third of my other crimes. Hundreds of murders to my name. My cell was built especially for me, a nice touch I felt, they respected my talent. It was portable my cell, so that they would never need to let me out. Never need to expose the world to the risk that I would pose. I'm still in my cell now. Flying at speeds that shouldn't exist in physics as we know it. Approaching something almost as dangerous as me. I'm still feeling quite insulted, but there's something else, something deeper.
Lust.
**[Edit: Part two](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/38w47q/wp_a_multitude_of_alien_ships_warp_within_range/crzc6mo)** as requested by u/DINDU___NUFFIN
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[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
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The Council slowly came to order. 3 species from different worlds, all of them peaceful and advanced, with a 500 year history of being the closest of allies.
And yet, this discussion might just break them apart.
Council Member Grak, tall and slender beneath the iridescent scales of his race, stood from among his delegation. "Good morning to you all. We come together today to discuss the progress of the fighting in NR-347 and NR-..."
Council Member Helios stood and interrupted Grak. "We all are aware of the fighting, even with it coming 50 years early!" Helios was hot tempered, and more prone to outbursts than the rest of his race. His 4 eyes glared balefully from his broad brown snout. "The Enemy is pushing us and our forces are barely holding. If we had not gone along with your mad scheme to arm those... *primatives* then we would have another full fleet to put on the line!"
Grak exhaled through his secondary membrane. Helios led a faction in the Council that favored simply blockading the Border Worlds and letting the Frontier fall to the enemy. When Grak had convinced the Council to give the Humans a full fleet of ships to prepare for the invasion, the rest of the 100 member assembly had assumed that they would actually be put to use. It had been the ethical thing to do, since their world was in the path of the Enemy and Humans were the only species in the area to be even close to a useful buffer. However, since the delivery of ships the only word from them was an acknowledgement of the news that fighting had started.
The Humans were... strange. All of the other Council races had been at peace with themselves for their whole histories. Descended from 2 herd races and a hive mind, fighting was simply outside their nature. Even attempting genetic manipulation to create their own soldiers had been a disaster. Hiring the Humans as mercenaries had seemed a perfect solution. There were enough of them, and they bred quickly enough, that there should have been a wall of them across the Frontier already.
Even as Grak tried to think of a counter to the arguments still issuing from his counterpart, one of the Xin stood from their delegation and the translator hummed to life. <<Queen. Alarm. Approach. Foes. Danger. Danger.>>
Grak was surprised. The Xin, looking like crabs with fingers instead of claws almost never showed any signs of concern. For them to show that now....
A guard came into the 4th chamber of the Council Hall looking as if wildfire burned behind him. "My Honors, there is a... a representative here. He demands audience!"
The Hall burst into shouts and sounds of panic. The Enemy *here*? Even as the doors opened the panic only subsided when a two legged shape came in past the lights. A black uniform and rows of colorful markings across the chest meant that this was a member of the Human military from what Grak recalled. Within ten steps, the only sound was the clicking of the Human's shoes on the stone floor as he mounted the steps to the guest podium.
"I am Fleet Commodore Da Gang. I have been sent to you to take Earth's first place on this Council."
Outrage thundered from Helios' corner of the room. Grak was not far from joining him. To demand this...!
Helios quieted his fellows and spoke. "Human, it has been 10 years and you have been silent. Now you come demanding honor as equals?! This is beyond madness! While you have been cowering, our forces have bled and died holding back the Enemy!"
Grak tuned out the tirade and watched the Human. His face changed not at all, without a twitch against the force of Helios' anger. It was worrying. Grak had not risen as far as he had without knowing when he saw a trap.
Da Gang stood with his hands behind his back, silently waiting for Helios to run out of steam. When he had the attention of the Council again, he began.
"Honors, I have been sent not just with our claim to join this Council, but also to show what we have done for a war that is, I remind you, YOUR war."
Waving an attendant forward, Da Gang began a presentation on an unfamiliar holo-emitter. "You presented us with a fleet of ships and asked us to use them to fight your Enemy. We found quickly that your ships were.... inadequate... for the task."
The visions of most of the fleet being blotted out among the stars filled the room. No one dared speak. Helios had all of his eyes fixed on the violence. His concession to allowing the Humans to have the ships was that they would be aging hulks. Grak imagined that there was some regret of that now.
Da Gang continued. "Luckily for us, however, we took some of the ships and took them apart. We learned how to make the technology you gifted us. And then we improved it."
The images changed to a moon being disassembled for materials. The shipyards above what Grak recognized as the 5th planet of their home system filled 2 entire Lagrange points. To have done all this.... to have done all this in a mere *10* *years* was unthinkable.
"Our weapons are now 50% more powerful than what the Enemy uses. As you can see," the stars making up the Human's spiral arm now dominated the room, "we have pushed back this Invasion approximately 7% since our new ships have come into use."
Flickering red dots showed the sites of battles, scattered like drops of the Humans' red blood. Several of the Enemy's colony worlds were marked. A frown crossed Grak's face. "Fleet Commodore, what are the black spots with the yellow rings?" Dread made his voice faint, but Da Gang heard him.
"After the early defeats, we needed a weapon that the enemy could not fight off. We had many of your star-drives ready, so we used them."
The images changed again. Dreadnaught engines strapped to... asteroids? But why would.... No. No, not even a race that fought itself could be so deranged.
"As you can see, these black spots are Enemy holdings that have been... neutralized."
Helios wept as the Council watched worlds burn. "How could you have done this? What have you done?"
Da Gang's expression finally changed. To surprise.
"We did as you asked."
"We brought you victory."
EDIT: [Part 2 included](https://docs.google.com/document/d/14NoT0Myy4fJGmiEiwquxhsXTaNAZoT7ZpqRBc8HjSfc/edit?usp=sharing)
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I felt quite insulted. The aliens had come, seeking destruction. They had reviewed all of their known space and we were the answer, the only species stupidly dangerous enough to help them fight off the neverending aggressions of their enemy. That was public knowledge, the high powered broadcast they sent out upon their arrival made sure of that. Every TV channel, every radio broadcast drowned out by the signal. Even empty tin cans and rocks with a heavy iron content seemed to hum out the message. What was not public knowledge however was that we had already agreed to help. To send our best. To send our worst. The most dangerous, destructive man on the planet to aid them. They had sent me.
I guess you would call me a psychopath. I never did feel much in life, happiness eluded me but sadness never showed up either. I killed my first man at 12. He tried to touch me. I stopped him. Stopped him with a rock. I didn't feel any different after that, didn't feel the emotions that I had expected to feel. I killed three more that year. The parents of a school friend who had upset me. The man at the bus stop who annoyed me with his grumpy old opinions. It was just the start of a long life of death. I joined the army at 16. I never did quite fit in. I was relatively funny and the others accepted me well enough, but I had a look in my eyes when I killed that they never could get used to. One admitted to me later that it was more like lust than terror. It must have been true because after that I felt it for what it really was. Lust. Lust for death. Lust for the feeling of life that came only from playing the balance. I received my medals and dishonourable discharge on the same day. The officers never did ask me what really had happened that day. I don't think they really wanted to know.
I excelled as a mercenary. Killing for money. I had no need for the money, but it was a bonus, a cherry on the top of my cake. My first arrest was in America, I slipped up and left some blood at the scene. They compared it to records going back all 29 years of my life and found at least a third of my other crimes. Hundreds of murders to my name. My cell was built especially for me, a nice touch I felt, they respected my talent. It was portable my cell, so that they would never need to let me out. Never need to expose the world to the risk that I would pose. I'm still in my cell now. Flying at speeds that shouldn't exist in physics as we know it. Approaching something almost as dangerous as me. I'm still feeling quite insulted, but there's something else, something deeper.
Lust.
**[Edit: Part two](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/38w47q/wp_a_multitude_of_alien_ships_warp_within_range/crzc6mo)** as requested by u/DINDU___NUFFIN
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[WP] A multitude of Alien ships warp within range of Earth. Over all electronic devices the message is heard, "Earth, we come in peace. In all the universe only one other Species has mastered Death and Destruction as you have. We need your help."
|
The Council slowly came to order. 3 species from different worlds, all of them peaceful and advanced, with a 500 year history of being the closest of allies.
And yet, this discussion might just break them apart.
Council Member Grak, tall and slender beneath the iridescent scales of his race, stood from among his delegation. "Good morning to you all. We come together today to discuss the progress of the fighting in NR-347 and NR-..."
Council Member Helios stood and interrupted Grak. "We all are aware of the fighting, even with it coming 50 years early!" Helios was hot tempered, and more prone to outbursts than the rest of his race. His 4 eyes glared balefully from his broad brown snout. "The Enemy is pushing us and our forces are barely holding. If we had not gone along with your mad scheme to arm those... *primatives* then we would have another full fleet to put on the line!"
Grak exhaled through his secondary membrane. Helios led a faction in the Council that favored simply blockading the Border Worlds and letting the Frontier fall to the enemy. When Grak had convinced the Council to give the Humans a full fleet of ships to prepare for the invasion, the rest of the 100 member assembly had assumed that they would actually be put to use. It had been the ethical thing to do, since their world was in the path of the Enemy and Humans were the only species in the area to be even close to a useful buffer. However, since the delivery of ships the only word from them was an acknowledgement of the news that fighting had started.
The Humans were... strange. All of the other Council races had been at peace with themselves for their whole histories. Descended from 2 herd races and a hive mind, fighting was simply outside their nature. Even attempting genetic manipulation to create their own soldiers had been a disaster. Hiring the Humans as mercenaries had seemed a perfect solution. There were enough of them, and they bred quickly enough, that there should have been a wall of them across the Frontier already.
Even as Grak tried to think of a counter to the arguments still issuing from his counterpart, one of the Xin stood from their delegation and the translator hummed to life. <<Queen. Alarm. Approach. Foes. Danger. Danger.>>
Grak was surprised. The Xin, looking like crabs with fingers instead of claws almost never showed any signs of concern. For them to show that now....
A guard came into the 4th chamber of the Council Hall looking as if wildfire burned behind him. "My Honors, there is a... a representative here. He demands audience!"
The Hall burst into shouts and sounds of panic. The Enemy *here*? Even as the doors opened the panic only subsided when a two legged shape came in past the lights. A black uniform and rows of colorful markings across the chest meant that this was a member of the Human military from what Grak recalled. Within ten steps, the only sound was the clicking of the Human's shoes on the stone floor as he mounted the steps to the guest podium.
"I am Fleet Commodore Da Gang. I have been sent to you to take Earth's first place on this Council."
Outrage thundered from Helios' corner of the room. Grak was not far from joining him. To demand this...!
Helios quieted his fellows and spoke. "Human, it has been 10 years and you have been silent. Now you come demanding honor as equals?! This is beyond madness! While you have been cowering, our forces have bled and died holding back the Enemy!"
Grak tuned out the tirade and watched the Human. His face changed not at all, without a twitch against the force of Helios' anger. It was worrying. Grak had not risen as far as he had without knowing when he saw a trap.
Da Gang stood with his hands behind his back, silently waiting for Helios to run out of steam. When he had the attention of the Council again, he began.
"Honors, I have been sent not just with our claim to join this Council, but also to show what we have done for a war that is, I remind you, YOUR war."
Waving an attendant forward, Da Gang began a presentation on an unfamiliar holo-emitter. "You presented us with a fleet of ships and asked us to use them to fight your Enemy. We found quickly that your ships were.... inadequate... for the task."
The visions of most of the fleet being blotted out among the stars filled the room. No one dared speak. Helios had all of his eyes fixed on the violence. His concession to allowing the Humans to have the ships was that they would be aging hulks. Grak imagined that there was some regret of that now.
Da Gang continued. "Luckily for us, however, we took some of the ships and took them apart. We learned how to make the technology you gifted us. And then we improved it."
The images changed to a moon being disassembled for materials. The shipyards above what Grak recognized as the 5th planet of their home system filled 2 entire Lagrange points. To have done all this.... to have done all this in a mere *10* *years* was unthinkable.
"Our weapons are now 50% more powerful than what the Enemy uses. As you can see," the stars making up the Human's spiral arm now dominated the room, "we have pushed back this Invasion approximately 7% since our new ships have come into use."
Flickering red dots showed the sites of battles, scattered like drops of the Humans' red blood. Several of the Enemy's colony worlds were marked. A frown crossed Grak's face. "Fleet Commodore, what are the black spots with the yellow rings?" Dread made his voice faint, but Da Gang heard him.
"After the early defeats, we needed a weapon that the enemy could not fight off. We had many of your star-drives ready, so we used them."
The images changed again. Dreadnaught engines strapped to... asteroids? But why would.... No. No, not even a race that fought itself could be so deranged.
"As you can see, these black spots are Enemy holdings that have been... neutralized."
Helios wept as the Council watched worlds burn. "How could you have done this? What have you done?"
Da Gang's expression finally changed. To surprise.
"We did as you asked."
"We brought you victory."
EDIT: [Part 2 included](https://docs.google.com/document/d/14NoT0Myy4fJGmiEiwquxhsXTaNAZoT7ZpqRBc8HjSfc/edit?usp=sharing)
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"So, these guys could wipe you off the face of the universe," President Walter said with a wide grin. "And you could do nothing about? No death rays? Giant robots? Small robots? Nothing?"
Although his big black eyes were unreadable to humans, the President and the rest of the UN Security Council noticed the little grey alien looked increasingly uncomfortable. Walters was not the only one beaming.
"That will cost you, you know," Walters continued. "We want access to all your shiny toys. Computers, spaceships, reactors, matter replicators. Henry, give me the list."
Walters handed the alien a printout that had taken the experts a few hours to compile and the Council a few weeks to negotiate. "Just to be clear, Ambassador. We want blueprints, manuals, text books. We want to be able to understand this stuff, not just replicate it."
"My experts told me that you have to redo most of your physical theories for that," the ambassador said. "Are you willing to do that? Can your scientists survive that humiliation?"
Walters looked puzzled. The closest person to a scientist he knew was his science advisor. And that guy loved to be corrected. Henry abandoned wrong theories faster than Walters abandoned deals that went sour.
"Leave that to us, Ambassador. Get us the data and we take care of the rest."
The little alien stared at the group of leaders, then dissolved into a cloud of sparkles. The ambassador had returned to his ship. Ten minutes later, a crystal appeared in front of each nation's leader. A single sheet of plastic accompanied it, carrying the instructions how to read the data.
* * *
"Henry, explain that again. But this time leave out all the science jargon and explain it like i'm five."
"Well, Mr President. The other side is about as advanced as we are. We are equal. They have death rays, we have them. They have big space ships, we can have them in a few weeks if we want. They have nanotechnology, bio weapons, you name it. We have all that too."
"Hmm. Mutually assured destruction all over again. Are the Grey behind this? I mean, they confessed they abducted people to find out about us. You don't do that if you're a nice alien."
"They're just desperate. You've seen the videos of the invasion fleet. Our scouts have mapped each and every ship. Those Reds can destroy all Grey worlds three times over."
"Hmm. And we can contact the Reds?"
"Yes, Sir. The interstellar communicators can lock onto their ships as well as onto ours."
"Get me their boss on the line. And project the map of the universe so that I can share my screen with him," Walters said, proud of himself that he had learned a bit of technology slang.
Dr Henry sighed. The communication link was easy to set up. There was, however, no line involved and no screen either.
* * *
"And you, puny being, speak for your planet," the holographic representation of the Red King boomed.
"I am," Walters said, while he walked around the seven feet lizard, inspecting him from all sides. "And I have a suggestion. A deal if you will."
"We do not make deals with food."
"Ahh, yes. And we usually don't make deals with pets, but let's both make a exception today," Walters said. "I assume, you heard the Grey upgraded our technology a bit."
"They are food. Nothing they do is of consequence. Food with spaceships is still food," the Red King boomed.
"But we have equipped these spaceships with death rays," Walters said. "Based on the technology of the Grey."
The Red King's hologram flickered for a few seconds. Walters assumed that he was talking to his aides and therefore waited patiently.
"What do you want, President Walters," the Red King asked.
Walters pointed to the map of the galaxy. The Red Kingdom formed a giant red cloud, encompassing many star systems. The mist that illustrated the Grey empire was easily ten times as big. A small blue ring pulsated slightly. Earth was surrounded by Grey space.
"We can do each other a lot of damage. Our simulations show that we could eradicate each other in a short, bloody war. All that would remain is this," Walters said and nodded to Dr Henry. The red cloud was swallowed by the grey mist. The blue ring stopped pulsating.
"That is true, Earthling. Do you want to negotiate for peace? How do you intend to pay?"
Walters nodded again and the Grey mist shrunk to its original size. It continued to shrink while the Red cloud expanded. So did a blue cloud, with the pulsating ring at its centre. The red and the blue cloud met when each filled about half the known universe.
"With an empire, King. We might not make deals with pets, but we make deals with equals."
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First time posting here
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[WP] The daughter of a mafia boss is assigned a body guard the same age as her to attend school with her for added protection.
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My family isn't the most normal family, in fact we're more like a clan... of body guards. I mean we're mostly like every other family with just a few differences. I love my parents and siblings, and they love me. My cousins, aunts, uncles, and so on and so forth are all really close to each other. I guess most people would imagine we would be like asocial weirdos or something like that. They probably wouldn't imagine a clan of body guards just relaxing at a beach or hanging around Disney World actually enjoying themselves.
But we do train everyday and follow a core system of beliefs much like the other companies or "families" of bodyguards do with one key difference. Our clan only takes on contracts where one of us falls in love with the person we're protecting. Hence why my clan's nickname is LoveGuard and in fact, we're considered one of the best and strongest clan because of our strong emotional ties to our Protectee but also to each other.
And today, I receive my first assignment.
Mom, dad, and I are driving to our office to talk with the Requestee as we call them. I fidget nervously in the car, Mom notices and smiles gently. "It's alright James, I know you're nervous but you'll be fine. Your dad spent quite a while deciding if you both match." I nod quietly. While my siblings and I were growing up part of our training was learning about our history, one important topic was how the founder Kai Wu Hwong first created our body guard clan, Clan Hwong, based upon love and made the formula to discover compatibility between people.
Dad always joked how we should sell Kai's formula to eHarmony or something and actually help people get into real relationships.
"Dad?" I ask tentatively.
"Mmmmm?" he replies.
The words tumbled out, "What was it like for you? What is she like? How long will this last? What do I have to do? What if I mess up?"
Dad chuckled, "Well like I've said before, your mother fell from the sky into my arms and sweeped me off my feet." Mom mockingly punched his shoulder and gave his cheek a quick peck. "Mom's right" He continued, a bit more seriously "We're both confident you can do this and it won't be too difficult. You're protecting the daughter of a mafia boss, and we don't think you'll mess up."
My gaze snapped away from the scenery passing outside the car window in surprise. "Mafia boss?"
Normally we we're protecting wealthy families or politicians whose character were at the minimum normal. A mafia boss wasn't exactly known for stellar characters.
Mom nodded, "Their situation and personality are different from a lot of the others, I vetted them myself."
Mom married into the family, but like everyone who marries in, they're trained physically, mentally, and emotionally. Most of the people who marry into the family are not the eldest sibling or the one who would inherit the Protectee's family fortunes. Sometimes the price of protecting the Protectee is a marriage between the sibling and a LoveGuard member. And to date, ever since the Founding there have only been a few cases of dissatisfaction, cheating, or even divorce and those have only been early on in our clan's history when the formula wasn't perfected.
I mean it's not a shotgun wedding either. The Prospectives, what we call a possible union between a clan member and outsider meet and over time if they match then they eventually marry. Or if the outsider is the Protectee then naturally, over time, they tend to grow very close. And the unions are usually started around similar aged Prospectives at least when they're 16.
The car smoothly pulls into the parking lot of a modest one story office building. The paint is a light color that was still fairly fresh and I see a few unusual cars in the parking lot with us. Unusual as in, heavily armored with guards inside and outside trying to act innocent. Except they all emanated a blood-thirsty aura that a blind monkey could sense from a mile away and toted badly concealed guns.
Dad's handsome face immediately recognized them as he opened the door for mom to step out. "Ah, I see our clients have arrived." After helping mom out and getting another peck, he motioned the clients to come up to the office.
Once everyone settled in I studied the mafia boss and his daughter.
//Maybe more later!
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Maria Canaj stared at the man her father, Enver, was claiming was for her own protection. He was about her age but he did not look as if he came from Albania. "Father, who is this man? He does not look as if he is from Tirana." Her father smirked. "My dear Maria, that is because this man, Giorgi, has been loaned to me from one of my associates from Dürres. He's here for your protection, my dear." Maria looked at the strange man, "Giorgi is it? Is this true?" Giorgi just stood there mutely. Her father interrupted. "Giorgi is a mute, dear Maria. Now hush and go to your classes. Giorgi will follow." Maria bade her father farewell and left for class. As she got into the car, Giorgi got behind the wheel and locked the doors. Maria immediately knew something was up. "Hey you mute bastard! What is the meaning of this?" To her surprise, Giorgi answered. "I led your father to believe I was mute. I'm actually from the police. Your mother sent us to rescue you from your father, one Enver. He was planning to have you killed." Maria could not believe her ears. "But why?" The man, Giorgi, just shrugged. "Your father is a cruel man who's trying to remove all traces of his previous life. Now sit back and we'll get you out of here.“
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First time posting here
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[WP] The daughter of a mafia boss is assigned a body guard the same age as her to attend school with her for added protection.
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Two small palms slammed down upon the rich mahogany desk. "Why the hell would I need a bodyguard at school?" I looked up from my newspaper to see my daughter leaning forwards, her eyes just as fiery as her words.
I calmly folded my paper before answering. "Because you are my daughter."
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" she shouted, her voice rising in pitch once more. "I've been going to school for eight years without a bodyguard and everything has been perfectly fine."
"Young lady, you've used profanity twice in my presence. God help me if you use it a third." This cooled her head a bit. She has seen me angry before. Not on the receiving end of it of course, but one doesn't need to get beaten to know that it would hurt. I hadn't particularly wanted to show her that side of me, but its the family business and one day she'll take over from me. Better to get her used to it now. "And you have had bodyguards. Normally, they'd be a teacher, or maybe a member of faculty. Someone close by, but not too close. But now we need to change things. Up until now its been merely a formality. No one in this town would put a hit on a kid. Not if they know whats good for them. But you are a young lady now. Fair game." I flicked the newspaper into onto the desk, spinning it around to show her the headline. **Son of Triad Boss Killed in Street Shooting**. "We are powerful enough to have many allies, but with power comes enemies. Don't let your position or power go to your head. A stray bullet is more than enough to end you or me. I'm just making sure that when the bullets start flying, there's someone right next to you who can send a few back at them."
She stared at the newspaper for a few moments before slowly nodding. She had been on friends with the poor sap, ever since they were kids. I knew it probably hit her close to her heart, but she'd have found out eventually anyway. No point waiting around with bad news.
"You'll take my guard. If you were a boy, I'd have you in a bullet proof vest, but i know you girls don't like unfashionable things. I've taken the liberty of having all of your school blazers modified. Kevlar plates over all the vitals. Its light as your normal jacket, and it won't get in your way." I got up, pulling on my own modified jacket as I prepared to go about my day's duties. "If you know whats good for you, you won't take it off. Head down to the foyer. Your bodyguard is waiting to escort you to school."
----------------o----------------
Day 1 Log 1 7:00 AM
My name is Elia Brandt. Half Italian, half German. Aged 15. Average build, average face, black hair, and black eyes.
And I am a professional.
That is one of the many terms for a hitman or a rough. When they say "Get a couple of professionals on it," I'm what they mean.
Yes, I'm young, but that means I can get to places where a man twice my age would be conspicuous.
People say I'm frank with my speech. If I were a funny guy, I'd say "No, I'm Elia," but I'm not a funny guy.
I'm a professional.
Today I've been assigned to a long term position. Protection of a single client over a period of four years. I don't know who yet, but considering whose house I'm currently standing in, I can make a pretty solid guess.
Luciana Vespucci. Daughter of the laundry detergent king Marcio Vespucci. They are adamant in what they claim they are. "We produce laundry detergent and laundry detergent alone." And no matter how many times the DEA have raided their locations, that's all they've found. Of course everyone, that is, everyone who matters, knows what they actually are, but there is simply no proof.
If I'm being assigned to a client for four years, Luciana is most likely who it would be.
Ah, there's the detergent princess now. I quickly look her over and note that her blazer is reinforced. Good. A client that is aware that they could die is a client who is easy to protect.
She came to stop in front of me, her foot tapping on the marble floor as if she were frustrated by something. She looked me up and down before snorting and trotting past. "Lets go. I don't want to be late to my first day in high school."
I nodded and followed.
----------------o----------------
Day 1 Log 2 7:20 AM
She wanted to ride the bus.
Why does she want to ride the bus?
Why the hell does she want to ride the bus?
I haven't had an opportunity to check the vehicle for explosives, or vet any of the other students who would be riding with us. If one of them were to pull a gun it'd quickly become a bloodbath, and I could only hope to protect the client with my body.
My eyes darted from student to student. They were laughing and chatting with each other, but some of them would occasionally slide their eyes over to the client. At first I thought that they were professionals who were really bad at their job, but quickly realized two things.
a) Most if not all of the watchers were male.
b) My client is incredibly attractive.
That problem resolved, I settled back in my seat, my hand resting comfortably close to my breast where my Colt 1911 slept quietly. If there was a problem that needed to be sorted out, it'd wake up and get yelling very quickly.
I make a note to prohibit the client from riding the bus after to day.
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Day 1 Log 3 8:20 AM
First class, home room. Little more than introductions. Luciana's was a elaborate, her face lit up with an energetic smile. She had the entire classroom eating out of her hand in a few sentences. My own introduction was as minimal as possible. Yet somehow I seem to be drawing attention. I can feel at least four sets of eyes trained on me. A quick glance around identified them. I remembered their faces and names and made a note of running background checks on them when I had the time.
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Day 1 Log 4 1:00 PM
Lunch break. My client refuses to allow me to remain close to her, opting instead to sit with two girls from her class and another from a different class. I make a note to run background checks on them.
I keep an eye on all entrances and exits to the dining hall. No one acts particularly suspicious, though there are simply too many people to keep a solid track on each one of them. I make a note to request fish eye cameras installed in the dining room and classrooms so I can analyze the student's movements after returning the client each day.
As a side note, even I can prepare food better than these cafeteria chefs. I consider leveraging the client's wealth to have them replaced but decide against it.
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Day 1 Log 5 3:20 PM
The client seems frustrated with me. She has attempted to make small talk with me on the way back but I have been focused on watching the other students on the bus. Her mood steadily has gotten worse until at last she stood up in a huff and squeezed past me to sit with one of her new friends. This situation is sub-par, but I've had that one checked already, and she seems clean.
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Day 1 Log 6 4:00 PM
"Father he's an automaton! He just looks at people and makes notes in his annoying little notebook. And people are starting to ask questions about him and me. Get someone else!"
I stood at attention outside the door to the laundry king's office while the client and his daughter discussed my actions for my first day.
It seems that I was too inconspicuous. I wasn't aware I was supposed to even be undercover for this mission. As far as I was knew, my sole purpose was to protect the client when the professionals inevitably came for her.
I will adjust my performance for tomorrow if I am still on this assignment.
----------------o----------------
Day 2 Log 1 6:50 AM
It seems I am still on the assignment with the modified mission: "Blend into the environment while protecting the client."
As such from this point onwards, the log will change to reflect this modified assignment.
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Day 2 Log 2 7:30 AM
I am still uncomfortable with the bus. Too many staring people. Too many unfamiliar faces, but I bear with it. This is a job after all. I sat next to the ~~client~~ Luciana again, but this time in a more relaxed posture. I managed to keep up with her small talk for a while, but the conversation gradually tapered off as we ran out of topics to talk about. As I mentioned before, I'm not much of a conversationalist. Upon arriving at school I followed her to homeroom and engaged in small talk with the person sitting in front of me, Christopher Miele. I've already run a background check and am confident that he may be the least threatening of all of the students in the classroom. We talk about nothing much until class begins.
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Day 2 Log 3 1:00 PM
Lunch. I sit away from Luciana and use my phone to access the cameras I had installed last night. A clear view of each potential threat in the room in the palm of my hand. Convenient.
Christopher Miele comes to sit with me off in the corner that I had selected to monitor the room, and I am forced to hide my phone. Again we talk about nothing much, but he seems attached to me in an annoying manner.
How bothersome.
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Day 2 Log 3 3:20 PM
Luciana seems pleased about something so I take the conversational cue and ask why had her grinning. She tells me that her friends and her were going to meet up at a mall nearby in an hour and she was excited because it was the first time she's ever done something like that. I almost refuse to allow her to go, but realize that is outside of my mission statement. Looks like I'm going to the mall.
*I can continue if you want, but it turned out longer than I intended*
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Maria Canaj stared at the man her father, Enver, was claiming was for her own protection. He was about her age but he did not look as if he came from Albania. "Father, who is this man? He does not look as if he is from Tirana." Her father smirked. "My dear Maria, that is because this man, Giorgi, has been loaned to me from one of my associates from Dürres. He's here for your protection, my dear." Maria looked at the strange man, "Giorgi is it? Is this true?" Giorgi just stood there mutely. Her father interrupted. "Giorgi is a mute, dear Maria. Now hush and go to your classes. Giorgi will follow." Maria bade her father farewell and left for class. As she got into the car, Giorgi got behind the wheel and locked the doors. Maria immediately knew something was up. "Hey you mute bastard! What is the meaning of this?" To her surprise, Giorgi answered. "I led your father to believe I was mute. I'm actually from the police. Your mother sent us to rescue you from your father, one Enver. He was planning to have you killed." Maria could not believe her ears. "But why?" The man, Giorgi, just shrugged. "Your father is a cruel man who's trying to remove all traces of his previous life. Now sit back and we'll get you out of here.“
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First time posting here
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[WP] The daughter of a mafia boss is assigned a body guard the same age as her to attend school with her for added protection.
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Two small palms slammed down upon the rich mahogany desk. "Why the hell would I need a bodyguard at school?" I looked up from my newspaper to see my daughter leaning forwards, her eyes just as fiery as her words.
I calmly folded my paper before answering. "Because you are my daughter."
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" she shouted, her voice rising in pitch once more. "I've been going to school for eight years without a bodyguard and everything has been perfectly fine."
"Young lady, you've used profanity twice in my presence. God help me if you use it a third." This cooled her head a bit. She has seen me angry before. Not on the receiving end of it of course, but one doesn't need to get beaten to know that it would hurt. I hadn't particularly wanted to show her that side of me, but its the family business and one day she'll take over from me. Better to get her used to it now. "And you have had bodyguards. Normally, they'd be a teacher, or maybe a member of faculty. Someone close by, but not too close. But now we need to change things. Up until now its been merely a formality. No one in this town would put a hit on a kid. Not if they know whats good for them. But you are a young lady now. Fair game." I flicked the newspaper into onto the desk, spinning it around to show her the headline. **Son of Triad Boss Killed in Street Shooting**. "We are powerful enough to have many allies, but with power comes enemies. Don't let your position or power go to your head. A stray bullet is more than enough to end you or me. I'm just making sure that when the bullets start flying, there's someone right next to you who can send a few back at them."
She stared at the newspaper for a few moments before slowly nodding. She had been on friends with the poor sap, ever since they were kids. I knew it probably hit her close to her heart, but she'd have found out eventually anyway. No point waiting around with bad news.
"You'll take my guard. If you were a boy, I'd have you in a bullet proof vest, but i know you girls don't like unfashionable things. I've taken the liberty of having all of your school blazers modified. Kevlar plates over all the vitals. Its light as your normal jacket, and it won't get in your way." I got up, pulling on my own modified jacket as I prepared to go about my day's duties. "If you know whats good for you, you won't take it off. Head down to the foyer. Your bodyguard is waiting to escort you to school."
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Day 1 Log 1 7:00 AM
My name is Elia Brandt. Half Italian, half German. Aged 15. Average build, average face, black hair, and black eyes.
And I am a professional.
That is one of the many terms for a hitman or a rough. When they say "Get a couple of professionals on it," I'm what they mean.
Yes, I'm young, but that means I can get to places where a man twice my age would be conspicuous.
People say I'm frank with my speech. If I were a funny guy, I'd say "No, I'm Elia," but I'm not a funny guy.
I'm a professional.
Today I've been assigned to a long term position. Protection of a single client over a period of four years. I don't know who yet, but considering whose house I'm currently standing in, I can make a pretty solid guess.
Luciana Vespucci. Daughter of the laundry detergent king Marcio Vespucci. They are adamant in what they claim they are. "We produce laundry detergent and laundry detergent alone." And no matter how many times the DEA have raided their locations, that's all they've found. Of course everyone, that is, everyone who matters, knows what they actually are, but there is simply no proof.
If I'm being assigned to a client for four years, Luciana is most likely who it would be.
Ah, there's the detergent princess now. I quickly look her over and note that her blazer is reinforced. Good. A client that is aware that they could die is a client who is easy to protect.
She came to stop in front of me, her foot tapping on the marble floor as if she were frustrated by something. She looked me up and down before snorting and trotting past. "Lets go. I don't want to be late to my first day in high school."
I nodded and followed.
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Day 1 Log 2 7:20 AM
She wanted to ride the bus.
Why does she want to ride the bus?
Why the hell does she want to ride the bus?
I haven't had an opportunity to check the vehicle for explosives, or vet any of the other students who would be riding with us. If one of them were to pull a gun it'd quickly become a bloodbath, and I could only hope to protect the client with my body.
My eyes darted from student to student. They were laughing and chatting with each other, but some of them would occasionally slide their eyes over to the client. At first I thought that they were professionals who were really bad at their job, but quickly realized two things.
a) Most if not all of the watchers were male.
b) My client is incredibly attractive.
That problem resolved, I settled back in my seat, my hand resting comfortably close to my breast where my Colt 1911 slept quietly. If there was a problem that needed to be sorted out, it'd wake up and get yelling very quickly.
I make a note to prohibit the client from riding the bus after to day.
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Day 1 Log 3 8:20 AM
First class, home room. Little more than introductions. Luciana's was a elaborate, her face lit up with an energetic smile. She had the entire classroom eating out of her hand in a few sentences. My own introduction was as minimal as possible. Yet somehow I seem to be drawing attention. I can feel at least four sets of eyes trained on me. A quick glance around identified them. I remembered their faces and names and made a note of running background checks on them when I had the time.
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Day 1 Log 4 1:00 PM
Lunch break. My client refuses to allow me to remain close to her, opting instead to sit with two girls from her class and another from a different class. I make a note to run background checks on them.
I keep an eye on all entrances and exits to the dining hall. No one acts particularly suspicious, though there are simply too many people to keep a solid track on each one of them. I make a note to request fish eye cameras installed in the dining room and classrooms so I can analyze the student's movements after returning the client each day.
As a side note, even I can prepare food better than these cafeteria chefs. I consider leveraging the client's wealth to have them replaced but decide against it.
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Day 1 Log 5 3:20 PM
The client seems frustrated with me. She has attempted to make small talk with me on the way back but I have been focused on watching the other students on the bus. Her mood steadily has gotten worse until at last she stood up in a huff and squeezed past me to sit with one of her new friends. This situation is sub-par, but I've had that one checked already, and she seems clean.
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Day 1 Log 6 4:00 PM
"Father he's an automaton! He just looks at people and makes notes in his annoying little notebook. And people are starting to ask questions about him and me. Get someone else!"
I stood at attention outside the door to the laundry king's office while the client and his daughter discussed my actions for my first day.
It seems that I was too inconspicuous. I wasn't aware I was supposed to even be undercover for this mission. As far as I was knew, my sole purpose was to protect the client when the professionals inevitably came for her.
I will adjust my performance for tomorrow if I am still on this assignment.
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Day 2 Log 1 6:50 AM
It seems I am still on the assignment with the modified mission: "Blend into the environment while protecting the client."
As such from this point onwards, the log will change to reflect this modified assignment.
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Day 2 Log 2 7:30 AM
I am still uncomfortable with the bus. Too many staring people. Too many unfamiliar faces, but I bear with it. This is a job after all. I sat next to the ~~client~~ Luciana again, but this time in a more relaxed posture. I managed to keep up with her small talk for a while, but the conversation gradually tapered off as we ran out of topics to talk about. As I mentioned before, I'm not much of a conversationalist. Upon arriving at school I followed her to homeroom and engaged in small talk with the person sitting in front of me, Christopher Miele. I've already run a background check and am confident that he may be the least threatening of all of the students in the classroom. We talk about nothing much until class begins.
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Day 2 Log 3 1:00 PM
Lunch. I sit away from Luciana and use my phone to access the cameras I had installed last night. A clear view of each potential threat in the room in the palm of my hand. Convenient.
Christopher Miele comes to sit with me off in the corner that I had selected to monitor the room, and I am forced to hide my phone. Again we talk about nothing much, but he seems attached to me in an annoying manner.
How bothersome.
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Day 2 Log 3 3:20 PM
Luciana seems pleased about something so I take the conversational cue and ask why had her grinning. She tells me that her friends and her were going to meet up at a mall nearby in an hour and she was excited because it was the first time she's ever done something like that. I almost refuse to allow her to go, but realize that is outside of my mission statement. Looks like I'm going to the mall.
*I can continue if you want, but it turned out longer than I intended*
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"Miss Shiratori, who is this man? What is this letter?" asked the tall boy in a suit.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Kenji. Only a classmate. Now, can you please stop... that?" replied his lady, winding a long strand of hair around her hand.
"....." came the silence of the boy choking before the two. It was an underclassman, a head shorter than the brutish looking bodyguard.
"Of course, m'am. Whatever you say."
The boy struggled against the strong grip of the bodyguard, kicking his legs at the man's chest, trying desperately to break free. The bleached-haired guard continued to stare at the boy until the woman gave a cough.
Kenji sighed, releasing his hold and dropping the boy onto the grass.
"You filthy vagrant! How dare you grab a hold of me like that?! When my fath-"
"Hey, jackass. Shut up."
"Now, Kenji..." Shiratori said in her graceful tone, slightly put-off by the display. "I know you're well-acquainted with common street thugs, but I'd rather you didn't kill off some important figure like that sobbing boy down there."
The schoolboy shot back up to attention, a fury in his eyes as teared welled in the corners. "Sobbing?!"
Shiratori waved her hand, calling her guard to attention as they started to walk off in the opposite direction.
"Whatever... your friends are calling you for lunch, m'am. Also, your father is insisting that you stay for an hour or so afterschool. A 'business meeting' has unexpectedly come up." Kenji ran a hand over his long hair, messing up the carefully-done neatness he'd spent an hour doing this morning.
"Don't ruffle your hair out in public. Save that for home." The lady clicked her tongue, flashing a look his way. "Father's been having a lot of 'meetings' more recently, has he?"
"I wouldn't know, m'lady."
"Do you think it's because of your little stunt back then?"
"M'am?!" Kenji's face flushed red. "It wasn't really my faul-"
"I meant you and those two, err, street thugs back then."
"Oh. Well, they were my friends. I wouldn't think they've had any association with yakuza, triad, or anything like that."
"Mhmmm. Well, my own friends are awaiting. I'll see you..." Shiratori smiled up at her guard. "... later tonight."
"Miss. Stay discreet. Ms. Sakuma would kill me."
"I don't think she'd hire a grudge that long just because we sacked her for you."
The pair arrived up by a grassy hill. Well-dressed schoolgirls waved at their fellow friend down below, beckoning her to climb up and join them. Like a pack of wolves, their eyes bored into the male bodyguard at his lady's side.
Kenji, sensing the signal, bowed to the girl and walked off, hoping to get to the library and away from the outside.
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As he turned the corner to the grand doors of the academy's home of books, Kenji came across a familiar sight.
Two rowdy looking ruffians were accosting some poor girl, their eyes lit up with frenzied anger. Neither of them wore the school uniform.The bodyguard leaned closer to take in the view. Now that he thought about it, the two intruders seemed rather familiar.
One had strewn up blonde hair, wearing a smile like a Cheshire cat. The other one seemed older than Kenji himself, wearing a long goatee on his dark chin.
It was no doubt about it, those two were his former upperclassman.
"Hey, you damn broad! You seen some bleached-hair fucker around here? Following around some bitch with huge tits? Oi! Speak up!"
"Sudou," the bodyguard stepped over, pulling the two away from the girl. "You don't belong here, you know."
"Kenji! You damn bastard!"
As if on cue, the goatee-wearing motherfucker headbutted the bodyguard, sending him staggering back.
The blonde misfit by his side pulled out a knife, circling their prey. He moved quickly, sprinting to flank Kenji's back as Sudou, the goatee-wearing one, charged in.
Kenji returned back with a right hook, knocking out a teeth from a bloody mouth before turning around. A knife stuck deep into his upper arm, allowing blood to ooze its way out. He winced and grimaced, trying to regain himself.
Behind him, the goatee-man rushed and seized up the bodyguard's arms, allowing the scrawny blonde partner to throw in a few punches of his own.
In the struggle, Kenji's suit tore.
No sooner than ten seconds after, the two campus intruders were face-deep in a shrubbery three stories below the school-building. It was also at that time, that the useless minor character started to scream and call for help, as everyone knows, bystanders can't be relied on to react to anything in these types of stories.
The guard was too busy freaking the hell out over the torn suit to bother with that. After all, that very suit came straight out of his pocket, and was estimated to cost about seven-hundred dollars.
Groundskeeping was sent to pick up the knocked-out duo in the garden, allowing Kenji with the chance to sneak out and try to find a tailor to sew up the tear.
School continued as normal the next day, and everyone continued on with their merry lives...
Just kidding.
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"Kenji! You tore up your suit? Goddamnit!"
"Miss, it was an accident! Those two came at me!"
"I picked it out just for you! It looked absolutely dashing on your and you ruined it!" Shiratori ignored the guard's excuses, fuming with anger. "And your hair!"
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"It's all ruffled up again! You have a comb don't you, use it!"
"Is this really the right place for this conversation?!"
"Yes, of course!"
"M'am. You're half-dressed, the bedroom's locked, and you've tied yourself to your own bed!"
"Heroism excites me, damnit! Now, if you'll stop shouting, then maybe Sakuma can't find you."
"Miss Shiratori, I have a headache."
"That's no excuse."
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[Yes, this is definitely a reference to something. If you can tell what I'm referencing based off the names alone, you should be ashamed of yourself.]
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[WP] A rare coma experience allowed one man to think for "a million years", though only one day passed on earth. He just woke up.
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"Good morning Jonathan. How do you feel?" the nurse said cheerily. The nervousness in her voice showed, the superficial smile and the pristine white uniform.
I had woken up.
"Put me back in." It wasn't a statement, or request. It was a command.
"...I'm sorry Mr. Sunder? You've been in a coma fo-" It must have been her first day, or I must have been the first she woke.
"Put me back into the coma. Now."
Hand covering her now slack jawed mouth, she hurried out of the room, the click clacking of her flats fading away. Getting the doctor, of course. Must have been new.
I look around. A sterile environment. Beige walls, black monitors, white devices. Not even a day's worth of dust has accumulated in this clean room The sheets were tidy and there was an air of perfection.
I hated it.
Finally, the doctor walked it. It had been precisely 312 seconds since the departure of Nurse Hadley and the introduction of Doctor Francoise Charbonneau, a francophone from Canada. His accent, the Canadian shoes and his salt and pepper hair told me as much.
"Good morning Mr. Sunder. Nurse Hadley was telling me that you are under some form of stress. It's completely normal under the circumstances. We had thought best to induce you into a coma to allow the swelling to be reduced. How do you feel?"
His accent was clear enough, but it couldn't mask his origins. His face was calm, sincere in stark contrast to Nurse Hadley, hiding approximately 60 cm behind him, protecting herself from me with the clipboard.
"Doctor, I would like to be placed back into the coma immediately."
He looked at me peculiarly. No change in the facial structure, no emotional change, nothing of significance to him had been said.
"Jenine, leave the room." He murmured. He maintained eye contact with me the entire time, this time finally raising his bushy eyebrows.
He sat down on a chair he pulled up. The screeching noise was deliberate, but he looked smug as he sat down.
"Curious isn't it, how time passes to us all individually, right Jon?" His voice wasn't condescending. It was only calm, filled with a voice yearning to be heard, attention to be directed.
I didn't answer.
He continued, "What you experience, the elongation of time and the ability to linger with consciousness, there isn't a name for it now, nor is it well understood. But only certain people actually experience it and only under very specific circumstances."
An academic. Save me from this terrible curse, *please*.
"I suppose, directly to the point, what I am trying to communicate is that you are a very, very luck individual. However, you are not the only person to have gone into deep think."
I raised my eyebrow. Skepticism comes too easily after thinking for such a period of time, in fact it was as if-
"I had a daughter once. Beautiful girl, young bright thing of twelve. A truck driver had hit us, side on. Was taking a bite of his sandwich, hadn't eaten the entire twenty-four hours he was awake. I don't blame him." He looked down, as if to look down and see her in the flesh. A tinge of sorrow and almost regret passed through him.
"Anyways, by the time they found us, she had passed and I was already unconscious. In a coma, as it were, like you were yesterday."
He returned his gaze upon me. "What did you think about? Philosophy? History? Your job perhaps? Maybe a loved one, or a friend..."
His voiced tapered off, telling me that it was my turn to respond.
"The accident. I thought of the accident. The intersection, the imagery of the entire scene. I visualized and created a model to determine how the two vehicles ended up." I was quivering. I was nervous now. It seemed like an age ago since I thought about the accident.
"And then what?" the Doctor inquired.
"Then... everything else..."
---
We talked for about thirty minutes about various topics ranging from Bertrand Russell to theoretical physics. For a medical professional, he certainly empathized with me such that we were the same person. Millions of years of thinking can lead to some strange things, but this was certainly a first.
Near the end of his rambling on how he designed a system in his mind to visualize his daughter, he said with finality, "We can't bring you back."
I knew at that moment that he had tried to do the same thing. To return to that space of mind, to visualize the time and thoughts for those years, to return to the moment of pure bliss.
He pressed his hand to his forehead, then stood up wearily. "We can't bring you back, but you will recover in a about twenty-four to forty-eight hours. If you are interested in going back truly, just step in front of a truck and hope for the best."
And with that morbid thought, he called for the nurse to administer a new IV. I watched him leave with such sadness in him that I questioned my own existence.
---
I was at home finally when my cell phone rang. It was my girlfriend. I let the phone buzz away. The moment I had returned to the apartment, escorted by the nurse, I wrote down some notes from my ... eternal thoughts. It read as follows:
1. Step in front of a moving truck.
2. Recite the Encyclopedia Britannica again.
3. Get Milk.
Some part of me became detached at the moment, breaking in half. The weight of the world crashed on my senses and I froze. I would never see or know the world that I had know from that coma.
The regret does not lie in knowing you cannot go back. It lies in knowing that it will all be *lost*. I slumped to my knees and let the phone buzz.
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I can't remember what precipitated my endless hell. Sometimes I knew that something was wrong, that *this wasn't real*, but other times I let myself be pulled under the waves of insanity. It was a beautiful feeling to let go. That helped the passing of time. There were times where I went hundreds, thousands of years delirious uncaring of what my mind conjured to taunt or cajole me with. Then, like a knife piercing my skull, I was aware. I was so *aware.* Hundreds of thousands of years. It felt like a day it felt like forever.
In the beginning, I tried to create a familiar world to interact with. I made up people. I made up beautiful villages and cities and worlds. As my mind deteriorated, so did the worlds I made. The people always degenerated into sadistic, PATHETIC animalistic beings that wiped each other out. It happened every time I made a new world. Eventually I stopped making them. Was I a god? Am I God? Who knows.
I think I had a name. It doesn't exist anymore. I don't exist anymore. There is nothing there is everything there is nothing. There. Is. Everything. It doesn't end. It never ends.
Sometimes I forget that I can't die. I forget and then I try again. Why can't I die? Why can't I just die?! I must be a god. There is no God. I'm so aware.
*Beep beep beep beep*
What... Noise? What is noise? I can hear...
*"Nurse! Nurse!! I think he's waking up!"*
Was it a dream? Was this all just a dream? There's light. THERE'S LIGHT. It's like... it's like I'm seeing for the first time in my life but also like I've always seen. I don't understand.
"Jacob! Jacob, can you hear me?" Who is Jacob? Is that a person? Is that a human being? I haven't seen another human being in several millennia-**OH GOD WHAT IS THIS WHAT IS THIS SENSATION... WHAT AM I FEELING?** "Jacob, calm down, you've been in an accident. You're in the hospital. A car ran a red light and hit you. You were in a come for a day. Do you understand?" The pain... It's so real... Wait. Waitwaitwait. Did she say it was only a day? It was only a day? IT WAS ONLY A DAY? **IT WAS ONLY A DAY?**
I see the doctor (huh, so that's the word) **IT WAS ONLY A DAY** push another woman forward. Her face is swollen. **IT WAS ONLY A DAY** She's crying. "Jake? Jakey? Oh honey, it's going to be OK. Don't worry, I love you, thank God you're alive."
"WHY? WHY? WHY?" I yell and kick, my side screaming in protest but it doesn't matter because **IT WAS ONLY A DAY.**
"Get the orderlies! We need to sedate him!" NO. NO NO NO NO I AM NOT GOING BACK. I AM *NOT* GOING BACK. I look frantically around for something, anything. My throat is burning from screaming. Why?! I see the woman cry even harder. I see the sharp, metal object on the table near my bed.
What if this is a dream too? What if this is like that Inception movie? Oh, wow, why do I remember that. I can't go back.
I grab the knife. I hear the screaming peter out and distantly recognize that it's my voice turning into gurgling noises as I jam the knife into my throat and run it across. I pull out the knife and start stabbing myself in the chest over and over again. There's pain, so much pain, but it's almost sweet. More people come in and grab my wrists, their grip slippery from all of my blood. It doesn't matter though. It feels like the end. I look up and smile as I fight for a breathe that won't come.
My name is Jacob and I am no more.
[Plz be gentle it's my first time ;D]
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[WP] Tell us about how you encountered a lovecraftian horror at work today
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"Hey, honey," my wife said without looking up from her book. "How was work?"
I dragged my feet across the room and collapsed in my chair. "Miserable. You remember Ted got a new job a few weeks back? His replacement had its first day today."
She smiled. "'It'? You must really not be fond of them."
"That's what it is!" I said. "It's an 'it!' I kept stealing glances all day trying to figure out whether it was a guy or a girl."
"Well, what's their name?"
I sighed. "I dunno, I can't even pronounce it. It starts with a 'c' and after that it's just a jumble of letters. Is it a man's name or a woman's name? I don't even think it *is* a name!"
Megan rolled her eyes. "So they're one of those non-gender-binary people. Is that so terrible?"
"It's not that, it's..." I tried to figure out a way to phrase my irritation without sounding like an asshole. "They reek. Like, *really* bad."
"Rude!" She stifled a laugh.
"I'm serious! So this... new Ted in the cubicle next door peeks over, introduces itself-"
"-*themselves*"
"Whatever. And there's this horrible, *horrible* stench. You remember when we went to that sushi place on your birthday? You remember how the alleyway outside smelled? Like that, but worse. *Way* worse."
"Is that really all?" Megan asked. "They smell bad?"
I shook my head. "Not even close. So they say hi, I turn around to see them, and..." I hesitated, trying to find the words to describe my new co-worker's appearance. "They're ugly. Like, really ugly. Like, absolutely, god-awful ugly. I mean, I knew we were trying to diversify, you know, hire new species and whatnot? But I don't even know what this thing was."
Megan just laughed harder. "You don't even know what *species* your co-worker is?"
"They're like something out of a horror movie! Swear to god, if they weren't wearing a dress shirt and a tie and a little nametag, I probably would have thought..." I trailed off, then snapped my fingers.
"What?"
"I remember their name," I said triumphantly. "It was Christopher."
Megan blew out a buff of air from her snout. "Wow, that is a ridiculous name."
"I know!" I said. "What were their parents thinking? Couldn't they have a normal name, like..."
"Like Cthulhu?"
"Exactly!" I pointed a tentacle at myself. "Like Cthulhu."
((Not *exactly* answering the prompt, but it went a direction I wasn't expecting))
|
"Welcome to McDonald's. What can I get for you?" I recited with the enthusiasm of someone being told they have incurable cancer.
The voice that seeped through the outside speaker and into my brain-choking headset was one of senescence and confusion, "Yeah, I'd like to get me one-a them poh-tae-toe cakes and a senior coffee."
"Do you mean a hash brown?"
"Young lady, I want one poh-tae-toe cake and a senior coffee. That's all."
I exhaled with frustration for probably an entire minute after storing the order. A potato cake? Does this shriveled cretin actually believe any of our products contain honest-to-god potatoes?
I observed the window where the food would be handed out, eagerly awaiting the old man's brush with disillusionment.
When his dilapidated pickup truck finally landed, the raisin of a person I had anticipated made eye contact with me that I had not anticipated. His hunched figure and gangling arms clutching the wheel like a defensive praying mantis complemented the intended glare of abhorrence he was directing my way. I smiled in an attempt to wordlessly assure him that his potato cake was real and on the way.
Finally, my coworker leaned out the window to deliver his order, "One hash brown and a senior coffee! Have a nice day!"
What I saw next was the rapid disappearance of my personable coworker, a slip-resistant, size 7 shoe being the only remaining artifact signifying that she had existed there.
I hurriedly directed my attention back to the old man who was taking a sip of his morning caffeine with the nonchalance of a psychopath who had just literally consumed a McDonald's employee, "I didn't order no goddamn hash brown."
|
|
[WP] Tell us about how you encountered a lovecraftian horror at work today
|
"Hey, honey," my wife said without looking up from her book. "How was work?"
I dragged my feet across the room and collapsed in my chair. "Miserable. You remember Ted got a new job a few weeks back? His replacement had its first day today."
She smiled. "'It'? You must really not be fond of them."
"That's what it is!" I said. "It's an 'it!' I kept stealing glances all day trying to figure out whether it was a guy or a girl."
"Well, what's their name?"
I sighed. "I dunno, I can't even pronounce it. It starts with a 'c' and after that it's just a jumble of letters. Is it a man's name or a woman's name? I don't even think it *is* a name!"
Megan rolled her eyes. "So they're one of those non-gender-binary people. Is that so terrible?"
"It's not that, it's..." I tried to figure out a way to phrase my irritation without sounding like an asshole. "They reek. Like, *really* bad."
"Rude!" She stifled a laugh.
"I'm serious! So this... new Ted in the cubicle next door peeks over, introduces itself-"
"-*themselves*"
"Whatever. And there's this horrible, *horrible* stench. You remember when we went to that sushi place on your birthday? You remember how the alleyway outside smelled? Like that, but worse. *Way* worse."
"Is that really all?" Megan asked. "They smell bad?"
I shook my head. "Not even close. So they say hi, I turn around to see them, and..." I hesitated, trying to find the words to describe my new co-worker's appearance. "They're ugly. Like, really ugly. Like, absolutely, god-awful ugly. I mean, I knew we were trying to diversify, you know, hire new species and whatnot? But I don't even know what this thing was."
Megan just laughed harder. "You don't even know what *species* your co-worker is?"
"They're like something out of a horror movie! Swear to god, if they weren't wearing a dress shirt and a tie and a little nametag, I probably would have thought..." I trailed off, then snapped my fingers.
"What?"
"I remember their name," I said triumphantly. "It was Christopher."
Megan blew out a buff of air from her snout. "Wow, that is a ridiculous name."
"I know!" I said. "What were their parents thinking? Couldn't they have a normal name, like..."
"Like Cthulhu?"
"Exactly!" I pointed a tentacle at myself. "Like Cthulhu."
((Not *exactly* answering the prompt, but it went a direction I wasn't expecting))
|
With a kick in my step and a smile broad across my face I strolled down the hallway. With a wink I said hi to the receptionist.
"Morning Kelly!"
"Morning Ryan" she beamed back
I kept walking and ran into my coworker James.
"James! Wonderful day we're having isn't it?"
"I guess it is! Great to see you Ryan!" He replied, a smile breaking across his face. I nodded and worked my way to the break room to grab some coffee. Did I have a reason to be so happy? Well a more important question to ask did I need one? The weather was gorgeous, the week had been good, and, well, I was alive! Didn't need any more reason than that.
Upon reaching the coffee pot, I began pouring a cup for myself when something caught the corner of my eye. I turned my head to get a better look, and noticed something rather odd. Instead of the break room, I was... elsewhere. The void stretched on for eternity. Dark, limitless, and empty, save for one thing. My previously good mood evaporated immediately. Hopelessness, despair, and fear; horrible, debilitating and paralyzing fear gripped my heart like a snake, which tightened it's coils and killed whatever was left inside. I was a husk. The... thing, the disgusting, horrifying and writhing... thing had complete control. It was unimaginably huge, beyond the comprehension of man. It's countless tentacles slipped and twisted around each other, and it's eyes... I dared not look into them because I knew there was no escape. It's voice echoed around me. Deep, horrible and commanding. I could not understand it's language, but I understood it's intention. Slowly, against my will, my eyes began to raise themselves to its. I tried to fight, but resistance was futile. Inevitably, it would possess me. There was no escape.
"Ryan?" a woman's voice called me back to reality. I turned and saw Kelly in the doorway. "Are you okay?"
I was back in the breakroom, back at work, and away from that... thing. I surveyed the room for a second, and tried to let my mind settle. But, what I saw, what I felt, what I experienced... there was no settling from that.
"No" I told her curtly, and I left for my desk.
|
|
[WP] In 2019, massive unrest sweeps across America. Its 2038, you're a history teacher...tasked with teaching the 2nd American Civil War.
|
**Jesus. This textbook has it wrong. Way to sugar-coat the truth assholes** I thought.
"All right students: turn to page 262, The American Disagreement."
**Disagreement, it was a fucking bloodbath.**
"Tommy, why don't you read the first paragraph aloud, popcorn style"
"Ok, sir... *clears throat* the Amerrrr"
"American."
"Yeah! The American Diss-Aaaa-grree..."
"Disagreement," I correct again **holy fuck, these kids are in high school, what happened to us?!***
"You know what Tommy, you did a fantastic job. I'm going to put you in for an award!"
The class almost unanimously begins to sob, stomp feet, and complain.
"Don't worry!!!! All of your names will be on it!!!"
Silence
**god, if I could just hit ONE of these kids...**
"Ok, so I'll just summarize. Civil War II..."
A female voice interrupts, **fucking Suzy again** "Sir! You mean the American Disagreement right? Will this be on the test?"
**AHHHHH**
"Yes. You're right, and yes. Ok. Moving on. It started with ratings, but then, almost everything does now. Propaganda, the kind that Adolf Hitler and Kim Jun Ill perfected over decades. The American media developed and purified it into something unimaginable. On one side, vaccinations. On the other, no vaccinations. Bio-warfare in the cities began without us even realizing it..."
RING RING
**christ on a stick, already? These 20 minute classes to cater to ADD just aren't cutting it.**
The students stand and shuffle out.
|
"Alright class, quiet down."
Mr. Davis stands in the middle of the room, wearing Roman armour for one of his other classes. Kids finish their gossip and make their ways to open seats. Mr. Davis pulls a Trivial Pursuit card out of the card holder.
"Oh, how fitting," he mutters. "Who was the President of the United States in the first American Civil War?"
Kids turn to each other, asking questions. Three kids joke around in the back far corner. Mr. Davis smiles.
"Mr. Génie. Do you have an answer?"
One of the kids in the back corner turns to look at the teacher.
"Abraham Lincoln."
"Correct." Mr. Davis put the card back into the cardholder. "But can you tell me his Vice President?"
"Andrew Johnson."
Mr. Davis wasn't surprised. It seemed that Gary Génie was able to answer any historical question, and any one he didn't know, Angelo Stephens, the kid behind him could.
"Right again. Now, if you remember yesterday, we talked about..."
The girl next to Gary turned to look at him. "How is it that you these things about history?"
Gary shrugged. "It just interests me."
"And so President Obama..." Mr. Davis gestured for the class to respond. "Come on guys, we went over it yesterday." He looked around.
"He addressed the issue and said what? Come on. He said that the looters were misunderstood and they were crying out for help. What was the problem with this statement?"
"It made people think they could do whatever they wanted." It was the kid to the right of Gary who spoke now.
"Exactly Mr. Wiggins. People thought, 'hey, the President is on justifying it. Why should I stop?" Mr. Davis pulls up a video on the board. "Watch this clip. This is some footage of the riots in Chicago.
People with baseball bats hit police cars, threw rocks into windows, lit bottles on fire and threw them at police officers.
"Do these people look 'misunderstood' to you?" The class remained silent. "Do they?"
Mr. Davis walks over to a cabinet, unlocks it, and opens it. He reaches in and grabs a police riot shield. "This," he gestures to the shield, "became standard issue to all officers. Doesn't that just seem messed up? The police had to defend themselves from the people they were supposed to defend. Eventually, the Chicago riots die off and the 2016 presidential elections arrive. It was an election with a ridiculous amount of candidates. Ted Cruz was elected. In 2017 he took office. The poor man didn't deserve what he had coming."
Mr. Davis walks over to his cabinet and puts the riot shield back. "In November of 2018, New York rioted. But this wasn't a normal protest. People of a political party called 'The American People's Party,'" he paused to write it on the board for everyone to read. "These people stormed the New York City city hall. They were armed. They butchered the police inside as well as any government employees. They pretty much took over. President Cruz was going to send troops in, but the people of the APP claimed they had a nuclear weapon. The claim was completely ridiculous, but he couldn't risk it. That was his biggest mistake. The media hounded him. They asked him how he could let people in his own nation live under dictators, how he could sleep at night."
Mr. Davis looks up at the clock. "Oh shoot, we have shortened day today, don't we? Alright, remember, homework on the website. See you all tomorrow!
- - -
*Liked this? Let me know and drop by my originally named subreddit, /r/TheDynastyProject. I may do a part two of this, so stay tuned! :)*
|
|
[WP] In 2019, massive unrest sweeps across America. Its 2038, you're a history teacher...tasked with teaching the 2nd American Civil War.
|
"Hey, Jordan, could I pick your brain a bit?"
"Sure Kat, what's up?"
"Well, I'm starting to teach Chapter Two..."
"Ooh, the war. Dicey."
"Yeah, it is, but that's not my problem at the moment. I'm just not sure where to start. It only happened twenty years ago, the kids will know so much already. I just don't want to bore them."
"I dunno, I'm always surprised at what my kids don't know. Did I tell you about the girl in Earth Science who thought the earth was shaped like a disco ball?"
"But, I mean, a lot of their parents must have..."
"If you're worried, squish the lectures a bit and make some activities to test their knowledge in the first class period."
"Yeah... we sort of rushed through Chapter 1 so I do have some breathing room. Thanks!"
"Sure thing. Tell me how it goes!"
****************
Chattanooga United School District
US History Grade 8 Class 3
Instructor: Katniss Schlegel
*******************
Lesson Plan 1 and Follow-up Notes
Submitted 20:39:24 Mon 8th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 21:52:15 Mon 8th November 2038
Class time: 40 minutes
Topic: Prelude to 2nd Civil War
Warm-up (5 min): Ask names of major 2nd Civil War figures students have heard of, their positions and significance
Materials: none
Result: **As expected, students were able to name final POTUS, 2nd VP, and 2nd VP's assassin. Several students knew of Insurrectionist twitter handles, but only one real name. Jeremy Feng able to name several Insurrectionist, Militarist, and Loyalist military leaders but was in most cases hazy on their significance or which side they were on.**
Vice Principal's notes: **None**
Activity 1 (20 min): Split students into pairs. One will read a Leftist article on the 2016 election, one a Rightist article. Have the students work together to answer the questions:
1. What did the Left and Right most fear would happen in POTUS' term? What did they most hope would happen?
2. Which one issue was most important to both sides?
Then discuss as a class.
Result: **Most pairs did mention economic issues, but a plurality (4 pairs out of 10) mentioned Insurrectionist issues which were not relevant until 2018. In discussion, I emphasized that when we approach primary sources we must remember that people in the past didn't know what was going to happen.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Unnecessary. Historiographical approaches not covered by test. Grasp of dates and events are most important. Stick to those in future lessons.**
Lecture (10 min): Have students take notes on international events of 2016-18, esp. PRC unrest and Taiwan crisis.
Results: **Two write-ups for talking (see Disciplinary Form, attached), but otherwise as attentive as could be expected.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Could Activity 1 have also been done in lecture format?**
Last 5 min: Answer questions, explain homework.
Results: **Several questions on what it meant to be "leftist" and "rightist" pre-2019. No questions on homework.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **In future, spend longer on the lecture and handle questions thru social media?**
Reading: Chapter 2 from textbook, section: "The Taiwan Crisis."
Homework: Take on the role of a leftist or rightist voter. Write a message (at least 1 page double-spaced) to POTUS advising what to do about the Taiwan crisis.
Vice Principal's Notes: **None**
*************
"Jordan, they don't know anything! *Anything!*"
"What'd you expect? These younguns with their gizmos and their slang and their funny way of walking... probably couldn't find their ass without googling it!"
"Hey, I was raised by and iPad and a succession of Android phones, but I picked up a very solid grounding in history, thank you very much. But most of the kids wouldn't know a democrat from a monarchist!"
"Eh, we've got an archive of kid-safe political correspondence, right? Bury 'em in primary source documents, let God sort it out."
"That's not really my style. I have to find a way to make a game of it..."
"Yes, I too was once young."
*************
Lesson Plan 2 and Follow-up Notes
Submitted 19:22:00 Tue 9th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 29:32:11 Tue 9th November 2038
Warm up (5 min): Quick Jeopardy-style game on Lesson 1 dates and names, winning team gets special username flair for student account until weekend.
Result: **Good recall from yesterday, although Jenna Evans and Marcus Cooper still very reluctant to speak up in class.**
Vice Principal's notes: **Good subject matter, but could it have been done as a paper quiz?**
Activity 1 (10 minutes): Present collection of actual messages sent by voters to POTUS at the time of the Taiwan Crisis. Students will choose one, and try to predict the writer's affiliation at the time (leftist or rightist) and affiliation post-2019 (Loyalist, Militarist, or Insurrectionist).
Result: **Majority of students able to pick out leftist or rightist, but could not predict post-2019 affiliation with any accuracy. Most assumed Rightists were Militarist and Leftists were Insurrectionist, and seemed to guess wildly at who was loyalist.
Vice Principal's notes: **Insufficient context? It seems like students will be guessing at post-2019 affiliation based on what they have heard from their parents and seen in the media about the war and the three sides.**
Activity 2 (20 minutes): Split into groups of three or four. Give each group a list of necessary military equipment and standard salary, and available supplies and budget during the first five months of the 2018 Financial and Industrial crisis (see attachment: Worksheet 1). Have them choose which to cut in which month. A representative from each group will present their decisions and reasoning to the class.
Results: **Ran slightly over allotted time by about 3 minutes. Groups were mostly on-task except the students mentioned in Disciplinary Report. Students expressed surprise at shortages, most were not aware of this aspect of the Taiwan Crisis.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Activities should not run over, cut them short if necessary.**
Lecture (until end of class): End of the Taiwan crisis, the PRC and US military mutinies.
Results: **Students became inattentive, began to fidget and doodle. Improvised and tried to elicit predictions for what would happen next, e.g. "Why was the nuclear option being discussed? How would the troops react to this?" Interest picked up slightly but had to keep them 2 min. past bell to finish the lecture.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Improvisation not strictly necessary. Next time stick to the lecture and report fidgeters on Disciplinary Report. No students were late to next class, so no harm no foul this time, but tread carefully.**
Reading: Chapter 2 from textbook, section: "The Mutiny"
Homework: 2 paragraphs (at least 4 complete sentences each) on the topic: "What would justify the use of tactical nuclear weapons?"
**************
"Hey Kat. How goes the war?
"I think I'm getting into the swing of it, but Vice Principal Harris is on my ass about less activities and more lectures."
"Oh really? Is the sky also blue?"
"At the moment? Grey, actually. Any tips on getting him off my case?"
"I find being half a foot taller and 10 years his senior helps tremendously. Have you tried that?"
"Seriously, though."
"I dunno. He talks a big game, but as long as you hit your milestones, he usually can't be bothered to actually do anything. If you can fit in activities *and* speed up the pace, he might even praise—well, no, he wouldn't, but he might not scold you for it."
*************
Lesson Plan 3 and Follow-Up Notes
Submitted 20:05:49 Wed 10th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 21:41:28 Wed 10th November 2038
Warm up (10 min): Betting game. Split into groups of 3 or 4. Give access to 5 social media feeds, none of which explicitly mention POTUS' considering the nuclear option. Have them bet on when in the feed the news broke that the nuclear option was being considered. Winners get 5 points on the next quiz.
Results: **Game was fairly easy and ended early. 3 teams tied, but competition was not so much the point as to get them to pick out the diverse reactions to the news: increased or decreased religiosity, abrupt changes in plans, sudden arguments or reconciliations with friends and family, etc.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Good job going ahead of schedule.**
Lecture (15 min): The initial anti-nuclear military mutinies and urban civil unrest in the US, the beginnings of the Militarist-Insurrectionist alliance.
Results: **Warm up ended early, so was able to use extra time to also cover PRC mutinies and unrest.**
Vice Principal's notes: **Next time try to notate more exactly how much time saved.**
Activity 1 (15 min): Students split into pairs. Give one student a condensed version of mutineer's demands, another a summary of one protest group's demands. Have them discuss what they wanted the other party to do, and what the other party must avoid doing to keep their sympathy. At the end of class, take a poll on how many students think that the mutineer-protestor alliance was basically solid at the beginning, and how many think it was basically unworkable from the beginning.
Results: **Good discussion, except for one pair noted on the Disciplinary Form. Almost all students concluded the alliance was basically unworkable. If there is time I would like to devote some of the lecture to why the alliance was thought to be a good idea by both sides.**
Vice Principal's notes: **An acceptable activity for this early stage of the war, but steer away from this sort of thing from now on. Parents who fought for the Loyalists would be extremely displeased to learn their children were learning to sympathize with the other side. Also, stick to the curriculum for lectures. "Why" questions are not required until later grades, stick to teaching events and dates.**
*******************
|
"Alright class, quiet down."
Mr. Davis stands in the middle of the room, wearing Roman armour for one of his other classes. Kids finish their gossip and make their ways to open seats. Mr. Davis pulls a Trivial Pursuit card out of the card holder.
"Oh, how fitting," he mutters. "Who was the President of the United States in the first American Civil War?"
Kids turn to each other, asking questions. Three kids joke around in the back far corner. Mr. Davis smiles.
"Mr. Génie. Do you have an answer?"
One of the kids in the back corner turns to look at the teacher.
"Abraham Lincoln."
"Correct." Mr. Davis put the card back into the cardholder. "But can you tell me his Vice President?"
"Andrew Johnson."
Mr. Davis wasn't surprised. It seemed that Gary Génie was able to answer any historical question, and any one he didn't know, Angelo Stephens, the kid behind him could.
"Right again. Now, if you remember yesterday, we talked about..."
The girl next to Gary turned to look at him. "How is it that you these things about history?"
Gary shrugged. "It just interests me."
"And so President Obama..." Mr. Davis gestured for the class to respond. "Come on guys, we went over it yesterday." He looked around.
"He addressed the issue and said what? Come on. He said that the looters were misunderstood and they were crying out for help. What was the problem with this statement?"
"It made people think they could do whatever they wanted." It was the kid to the right of Gary who spoke now.
"Exactly Mr. Wiggins. People thought, 'hey, the President is on justifying it. Why should I stop?" Mr. Davis pulls up a video on the board. "Watch this clip. This is some footage of the riots in Chicago.
People with baseball bats hit police cars, threw rocks into windows, lit bottles on fire and threw them at police officers.
"Do these people look 'misunderstood' to you?" The class remained silent. "Do they?"
Mr. Davis walks over to a cabinet, unlocks it, and opens it. He reaches in and grabs a police riot shield. "This," he gestures to the shield, "became standard issue to all officers. Doesn't that just seem messed up? The police had to defend themselves from the people they were supposed to defend. Eventually, the Chicago riots die off and the 2016 presidential elections arrive. It was an election with a ridiculous amount of candidates. Ted Cruz was elected. In 2017 he took office. The poor man didn't deserve what he had coming."
Mr. Davis walks over to his cabinet and puts the riot shield back. "In November of 2018, New York rioted. But this wasn't a normal protest. People of a political party called 'The American People's Party,'" he paused to write it on the board for everyone to read. "These people stormed the New York City city hall. They were armed. They butchered the police inside as well as any government employees. They pretty much took over. President Cruz was going to send troops in, but the people of the APP claimed they had a nuclear weapon. The claim was completely ridiculous, but he couldn't risk it. That was his biggest mistake. The media hounded him. They asked him how he could let people in his own nation live under dictators, how he could sleep at night."
Mr. Davis looks up at the clock. "Oh shoot, we have shortened day today, don't we? Alright, remember, homework on the website. See you all tomorrow!
- - -
*Liked this? Let me know and drop by my originally named subreddit, /r/TheDynastyProject. I may do a part two of this, so stay tuned! :)*
|
|
[WP] In 2019, massive unrest sweeps across America. Its 2038, you're a history teacher...tasked with teaching the 2nd American Civil War.
|
"Thomas, what was the cause of the first revolutionary war?"
"Taxation without representation."
"And what exactly does that mean, Brittany?"
"The British wanted the Colonies to pay for their wars, without letting them vote on anything."
"Absolutely right. What was the cause of the second revolutionary war?"
"A couple of twats all upset about their guns."
"Jeremy! That's detention after school, young man."
As the class erupted in snickers, I turned around to the board, picking up the DigiPen and scribbling across the white reflective surface, "Firearm Regulations". I spun back around, setting the pen back down on the desk. "But, yes, firearms regulations. Namely, the public carry bans that sprung up about sixteen months prior. Yes Jennifer?"
"Wasn't the real cause the civil rights riots of 2017?"
I sighed. "They presented a large amount of the unrest, but the reactionary banning of public carry in 23 states is considered, chiefly, the major cause of the revolution. The riots over the shootings of six teenagers in a club were, to be truthful, very harmful, but with over a hundred dead from rioter gunfire, almost 300 from police gunfire, and a whole long line of arrests, the Clinton gun bill was an immediate cause of the revolution. It took over a year before people realized a full scale civil war was out, and sadly it can be said the northeastern states were the most blind to the problem. Now, however, we have a whole new set of problems. Who can tell us one of the major repercussions of the second revolution?"
Several hands shot up in the air, and I pointed at random. "Claus?"
"The secession of the New Texican states?"
I nodded. "Good, what else-"
"The California DMZ!"
"Yes, William, but please wait until you're called upon. Sarah, a third?"
"Ummm... Uhh... Oh! The Utah black bill."
"That's correct. The entire state of Utah, under mormon legislation, banned all firearms and personal weaponry with regular city-by-city sweeps for contraband weaponry. Surprising thing to see from the Mormons. So, we have three major repercussions, and a few that people consider minor, but I'd like to talk about one that most people seem to not take seriously, the reinstatement of the PATRIOT Act as permanent legislation. Everyone just sort of shrugs, there's no problem right? I mean, Big Government could always see what you posted online, what you put in your social media, so who cares?"
I turned around, and scribbled something else up on the board, reading as I went. "Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety." I turned back around. "For tonight, I'd like to see a 1 KB or more textfile, NO layout, on what Safety we've gained from the permanent PATRIOT Act, as well as what Liberty we've given up. Also, an argument on whether that Safety is truly permanent, or temporary as Mr. Franklin stated? Bonus points on persuasive arguments. Tomorrow, the battle of San Francisco, as well as the Arabic detainment camps in South Dakota."
"Bout the only thing South Dakota's useful for..."
"JEREMY!"
|
"Alright class, quiet down."
Mr. Davis stands in the middle of the room, wearing Roman armour for one of his other classes. Kids finish their gossip and make their ways to open seats. Mr. Davis pulls a Trivial Pursuit card out of the card holder.
"Oh, how fitting," he mutters. "Who was the President of the United States in the first American Civil War?"
Kids turn to each other, asking questions. Three kids joke around in the back far corner. Mr. Davis smiles.
"Mr. Génie. Do you have an answer?"
One of the kids in the back corner turns to look at the teacher.
"Abraham Lincoln."
"Correct." Mr. Davis put the card back into the cardholder. "But can you tell me his Vice President?"
"Andrew Johnson."
Mr. Davis wasn't surprised. It seemed that Gary Génie was able to answer any historical question, and any one he didn't know, Angelo Stephens, the kid behind him could.
"Right again. Now, if you remember yesterday, we talked about..."
The girl next to Gary turned to look at him. "How is it that you these things about history?"
Gary shrugged. "It just interests me."
"And so President Obama..." Mr. Davis gestured for the class to respond. "Come on guys, we went over it yesterday." He looked around.
"He addressed the issue and said what? Come on. He said that the looters were misunderstood and they were crying out for help. What was the problem with this statement?"
"It made people think they could do whatever they wanted." It was the kid to the right of Gary who spoke now.
"Exactly Mr. Wiggins. People thought, 'hey, the President is on justifying it. Why should I stop?" Mr. Davis pulls up a video on the board. "Watch this clip. This is some footage of the riots in Chicago.
People with baseball bats hit police cars, threw rocks into windows, lit bottles on fire and threw them at police officers.
"Do these people look 'misunderstood' to you?" The class remained silent. "Do they?"
Mr. Davis walks over to a cabinet, unlocks it, and opens it. He reaches in and grabs a police riot shield. "This," he gestures to the shield, "became standard issue to all officers. Doesn't that just seem messed up? The police had to defend themselves from the people they were supposed to defend. Eventually, the Chicago riots die off and the 2016 presidential elections arrive. It was an election with a ridiculous amount of candidates. Ted Cruz was elected. In 2017 he took office. The poor man didn't deserve what he had coming."
Mr. Davis walks over to his cabinet and puts the riot shield back. "In November of 2018, New York rioted. But this wasn't a normal protest. People of a political party called 'The American People's Party,'" he paused to write it on the board for everyone to read. "These people stormed the New York City city hall. They were armed. They butchered the police inside as well as any government employees. They pretty much took over. President Cruz was going to send troops in, but the people of the APP claimed they had a nuclear weapon. The claim was completely ridiculous, but he couldn't risk it. That was his biggest mistake. The media hounded him. They asked him how he could let people in his own nation live under dictators, how he could sleep at night."
Mr. Davis looks up at the clock. "Oh shoot, we have shortened day today, don't we? Alright, remember, homework on the website. See you all tomorrow!
- - -
*Liked this? Let me know and drop by my originally named subreddit, /r/TheDynastyProject. I may do a part two of this, so stay tuned! :)*
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[WP] In 2019, massive unrest sweeps across America. Its 2038, you're a history teacher...tasked with teaching the 2nd American Civil War.
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Teaching controversial topics is something that every history teacher has to do eventually. It's usually the more recent things that I worry about teaching though. Nobody cares about the right and wrong of the Norman Invasion of England in 1066, but the Second American Civil War is still a hot topic, despite the fact that it ended over a decade ago.
As I entered the classroom, my students fell silent and sat up straight. I couldn't help but think about how disorderly I had been in school, and how the teacher's presence had meant nothing to myself and my fellow classmates. Now, my fourteen and fifteen year-old students didn't say a word, and wouldn't until I asked them to. I set my phone on my desk, and with the push of a button, the screen projected itself onto the wall. It showed my desktop, with the date in opaque, black letters in the lower right corner. "July 4th, 2038." I looked around the room to make sure that my students were ready to take notes. Once I was ready, I broke their respectful silence.
"Good morning class, how is everybody today?"
"Good, Mr. Turner," they replied at once. I nodded and looked down at my phone.
"Begin keynote, 'Second American Civil War.'" The screen changed to a picture, with a title in front of it. The picture showed three men wearing camouflage fatigues, two holding M16 assault rifles, while the third was holding an older-looking shotgun. They had red patches on their sleeves, with the black silhouette of an Elephant embroidered on them.
"Today we're going to discuss the most important event in American 21st Century History so far. Do any of you remember anything about the war?" I didn't expect much of an answer from them. The war had ended in 2025, so my students would have just been born. None of the students raised their hands, though I suspected that it was more because they didn't want to say anything, rather than that they didn't have anything to say.
"Ok, can any of you tell me why I picked today to talk about?" One student raised his hand, and I pointed to him.
"Because it was the old government's Independence Day," he said.
"Very good," I touched the wall my screen was projected onto, and it went to the next slide. "So, first, we're going to talk about the prelude to the war, take notes here. The 2018 General Election was the most contentious in American History. Prior elections had been a source of resentment between the Republicans and the Democrats, but no recent election had resorted to violence until then. Clashes between Republican and Democrat demonstrators in Dallas in April of 2018 led to an outbreak of violence across the United States that affected most major American cities. It was during this violence that the President ordered the Federal Emergency Management Administration, or FEMA, to go into the cities affected by the violence and try to maintain stability. However, many Governors of the states in the U.S. refused to declare a State of Emergency. It's important to point out, we know from some of those Governor's staffers, that they were hoping that their supporters would win in the fighting, and prevent the opposition from voting. So, the President was not entirely wrong when he overrode those Governors and had FEMA agents enter the state under guard from the Army.
"He promised that they would only remain until after the election, and the end of hostilities between citizens." I went to the next slide, which showed a photograph of two U.S. Army soldiers wearing gas masks, standing in front of a sign that read, "Medical Relief." I then went to the next slide, which had more text on it. "After the Democratic party won a majority in the Senate, many Republicans accused them of voting fraud, and demanded a recount. The Senate wouldn't pass a measure requiring the recount, so Senate Republicans began filibustering every bill that was put forth, in protest. That continued for almost three months, until March of 2019, when the President ordered that Filibustering be disallowed in Congress. The Democrats proposed the Bill, but the Republicans continued to filibuster against it. After five straight days without progress, the President ordered the Master-at-Arms to arrest anyone who approached the bench to filibuster, or spoke for longer than two minutes. A Republican Senator tried to filibuster anyway, and was violently removed from the chamber by security.
"After footage of the fight between the Senator and security reached the Internet, there were massive protests by Republicans across the country. What's important to understand is, at this time, the Republican Party was the Party of many potential revolutionaries and Militia groups who were prepared to overthrow the government. The Democrats didn't believe in that kind of violent disobedience. Knowing that, we can say that it shouldn't have been much of a surprise when, on April 21st, 2019, a group of Republican Militiamen attacked an Air Force base in Cheyenne, and took control of several nuclear weapons. The Militia requested that the recount be passed through Congress, or they would fire a nuclear missile at Washington D.C. They were killed before they could launch the missile, and chances are they couldn't have, even though they wanted to. However, that event is significant, because it led to the beginning of Republican Uprisings across the United States. Early on, many Republican governors supported these uprisings, and did little to protect Democrats from anti-liberal violence.
"The uprisings culminated on May 16th, when the Governor of Texas led several Republican states in mobilizing their National Guard Units, and demanded that the President order a recount of the 2018 vote. This is the last point at which the President could have potentially stopped the Civil War from beginning, if he'd bowed to the State's demands, they likely would have stood down. However, instead, the President ordered the Army and Air Force to begin conducting combat operations against rebellious units in the Republican States. This is why May 16th is seen as the beginning of the Second Civil War, and the first major battle, the Battle of San Diego, began four days after.
"We won't get into what happened during the war until next week, but the basic facts are that the Republican State's heavily armed populations and effective military leadership allowed them to make broad gains against the Democratic states early on, but the Democratic State's economic development meant that they were able to far outdo the Republican forces in terms of equipment and supplies for their troops. The Democrats were able to push back the Republicans, and by 2025, both sides were ready to meet for peace talks. The talks were hosted in Ottawa, Canada, and they took five days. The two sides agreed to sign the Treaty of Ottawa, which split the United States of America, into the Democratic States of America, and the Republican States of America." I wanted to cover more than that, but I already knew that the school would be getting a few calls from parents tonight saying that I should be fired. Principal Finnick has always backed me up, but it's not always easy.
The educational reforms in the Democratic States of America removed all tenure, so I could easily get fired. I've known a lot of good teacher's who were fired because they said something that somebody thought was offensive, or did something that a parent thought was insensitive. I've been accused of being a racist for talking about the First Civil War, a Fascist for talking about Hitler, and a Republican for talking about the Second Civil War. My old teachers had never had to worry about this sort of thing, even though people had already been easily offended back then. Hard as it is to keep my job, I know that I'm better off here than in the Republican States. There, they write history the way that they want it to be read, and not how it should be. I remember seeing a magazine at Walmart a few days ago, talking about how the R.S.A. is the only country that teaches creationism in every aspect of their educational system. I couldn't do that. I couldn't tell my students that the Earth is only a few thousand years old, when I know it really is billions. I couldn't tell them that all of the Founding Fathers were Fundamentalist Christians, when they were really Deists. I most certainly couldn't tell them that it was the Democrats who launched the first nuclear strike, when I know that the Republicans are responsible for the day when the bombs fell.
There's little more than ashes for us to remember the old world by. People called it the bloodiest Civil War in history, but I'm not sure that's true. A Civil War is a Brother's War, where families are torn apart, fighting against each other because of slight differences in ideology. America had begun to tear apart long before the Civil War started. We saw the signs, all the political polarization in Congress, the screaming Talk Show Hosts, the online message boards. I think that people gave up on a United America long before they started fighting to end it.
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"Alright class, quiet down."
Mr. Davis stands in the middle of the room, wearing Roman armour for one of his other classes. Kids finish their gossip and make their ways to open seats. Mr. Davis pulls a Trivial Pursuit card out of the card holder.
"Oh, how fitting," he mutters. "Who was the President of the United States in the first American Civil War?"
Kids turn to each other, asking questions. Three kids joke around in the back far corner. Mr. Davis smiles.
"Mr. Génie. Do you have an answer?"
One of the kids in the back corner turns to look at the teacher.
"Abraham Lincoln."
"Correct." Mr. Davis put the card back into the cardholder. "But can you tell me his Vice President?"
"Andrew Johnson."
Mr. Davis wasn't surprised. It seemed that Gary Génie was able to answer any historical question, and any one he didn't know, Angelo Stephens, the kid behind him could.
"Right again. Now, if you remember yesterday, we talked about..."
The girl next to Gary turned to look at him. "How is it that you these things about history?"
Gary shrugged. "It just interests me."
"And so President Obama..." Mr. Davis gestured for the class to respond. "Come on guys, we went over it yesterday." He looked around.
"He addressed the issue and said what? Come on. He said that the looters were misunderstood and they were crying out for help. What was the problem with this statement?"
"It made people think they could do whatever they wanted." It was the kid to the right of Gary who spoke now.
"Exactly Mr. Wiggins. People thought, 'hey, the President is on justifying it. Why should I stop?" Mr. Davis pulls up a video on the board. "Watch this clip. This is some footage of the riots in Chicago.
People with baseball bats hit police cars, threw rocks into windows, lit bottles on fire and threw them at police officers.
"Do these people look 'misunderstood' to you?" The class remained silent. "Do they?"
Mr. Davis walks over to a cabinet, unlocks it, and opens it. He reaches in and grabs a police riot shield. "This," he gestures to the shield, "became standard issue to all officers. Doesn't that just seem messed up? The police had to defend themselves from the people they were supposed to defend. Eventually, the Chicago riots die off and the 2016 presidential elections arrive. It was an election with a ridiculous amount of candidates. Ted Cruz was elected. In 2017 he took office. The poor man didn't deserve what he had coming."
Mr. Davis walks over to his cabinet and puts the riot shield back. "In November of 2018, New York rioted. But this wasn't a normal protest. People of a political party called 'The American People's Party,'" he paused to write it on the board for everyone to read. "These people stormed the New York City city hall. They were armed. They butchered the police inside as well as any government employees. They pretty much took over. President Cruz was going to send troops in, but the people of the APP claimed they had a nuclear weapon. The claim was completely ridiculous, but he couldn't risk it. That was his biggest mistake. The media hounded him. They asked him how he could let people in his own nation live under dictators, how he could sleep at night."
Mr. Davis looks up at the clock. "Oh shoot, we have shortened day today, don't we? Alright, remember, homework on the website. See you all tomorrow!
- - -
*Liked this? Let me know and drop by my originally named subreddit, /r/TheDynastyProject. I may do a part two of this, so stay tuned! :)*
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[WP] In 2019, massive unrest sweeps across America. Its 2038, you're a history teacher...tasked with teaching the 2nd American Civil War.
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"Thomas, what was the cause of the first revolutionary war?"
"Taxation without representation."
"And what exactly does that mean, Brittany?"
"The British wanted the Colonies to pay for their wars, without letting them vote on anything."
"Absolutely right. What was the cause of the second revolutionary war?"
"A couple of twats all upset about their guns."
"Jeremy! That's detention after school, young man."
As the class erupted in snickers, I turned around to the board, picking up the DigiPen and scribbling across the white reflective surface, "Firearm Regulations". I spun back around, setting the pen back down on the desk. "But, yes, firearms regulations. Namely, the public carry bans that sprung up about sixteen months prior. Yes Jennifer?"
"Wasn't the real cause the civil rights riots of 2017?"
I sighed. "They presented a large amount of the unrest, but the reactionary banning of public carry in 23 states is considered, chiefly, the major cause of the revolution. The riots over the shootings of six teenagers in a club were, to be truthful, very harmful, but with over a hundred dead from rioter gunfire, almost 300 from police gunfire, and a whole long line of arrests, the Clinton gun bill was an immediate cause of the revolution. It took over a year before people realized a full scale civil war was out, and sadly it can be said the northeastern states were the most blind to the problem. Now, however, we have a whole new set of problems. Who can tell us one of the major repercussions of the second revolution?"
Several hands shot up in the air, and I pointed at random. "Claus?"
"The secession of the New Texican states?"
I nodded. "Good, what else-"
"The California DMZ!"
"Yes, William, but please wait until you're called upon. Sarah, a third?"
"Ummm... Uhh... Oh! The Utah black bill."
"That's correct. The entire state of Utah, under mormon legislation, banned all firearms and personal weaponry with regular city-by-city sweeps for contraband weaponry. Surprising thing to see from the Mormons. So, we have three major repercussions, and a few that people consider minor, but I'd like to talk about one that most people seem to not take seriously, the reinstatement of the PATRIOT Act as permanent legislation. Everyone just sort of shrugs, there's no problem right? I mean, Big Government could always see what you posted online, what you put in your social media, so who cares?"
I turned around, and scribbled something else up on the board, reading as I went. "Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety." I turned back around. "For tonight, I'd like to see a 1 KB or more textfile, NO layout, on what Safety we've gained from the permanent PATRIOT Act, as well as what Liberty we've given up. Also, an argument on whether that Safety is truly permanent, or temporary as Mr. Franklin stated? Bonus points on persuasive arguments. Tomorrow, the battle of San Francisco, as well as the Arabic detainment camps in South Dakota."
"Bout the only thing South Dakota's useful for..."
"JEREMY!"
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"Hey, Jordan, could I pick your brain a bit?"
"Sure Kat, what's up?"
"Well, I'm starting to teach Chapter Two..."
"Ooh, the war. Dicey."
"Yeah, it is, but that's not my problem at the moment. I'm just not sure where to start. It only happened twenty years ago, the kids will know so much already. I just don't want to bore them."
"I dunno, I'm always surprised at what my kids don't know. Did I tell you about the girl in Earth Science who thought the earth was shaped like a disco ball?"
"But, I mean, a lot of their parents must have..."
"If you're worried, squish the lectures a bit and make some activities to test their knowledge in the first class period."
"Yeah... we sort of rushed through Chapter 1 so I do have some breathing room. Thanks!"
"Sure thing. Tell me how it goes!"
****************
Chattanooga United School District
US History Grade 8 Class 3
Instructor: Katniss Schlegel
*******************
Lesson Plan 1 and Follow-up Notes
Submitted 20:39:24 Mon 8th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 21:52:15 Mon 8th November 2038
Class time: 40 minutes
Topic: Prelude to 2nd Civil War
Warm-up (5 min): Ask names of major 2nd Civil War figures students have heard of, their positions and significance
Materials: none
Result: **As expected, students were able to name final POTUS, 2nd VP, and 2nd VP's assassin. Several students knew of Insurrectionist twitter handles, but only one real name. Jeremy Feng able to name several Insurrectionist, Militarist, and Loyalist military leaders but was in most cases hazy on their significance or which side they were on.**
Vice Principal's notes: **None**
Activity 1 (20 min): Split students into pairs. One will read a Leftist article on the 2016 election, one a Rightist article. Have the students work together to answer the questions:
1. What did the Left and Right most fear would happen in POTUS' term? What did they most hope would happen?
2. Which one issue was most important to both sides?
Then discuss as a class.
Result: **Most pairs did mention economic issues, but a plurality (4 pairs out of 10) mentioned Insurrectionist issues which were not relevant until 2018. In discussion, I emphasized that when we approach primary sources we must remember that people in the past didn't know what was going to happen.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Unnecessary. Historiographical approaches not covered by test. Grasp of dates and events are most important. Stick to those in future lessons.**
Lecture (10 min): Have students take notes on international events of 2016-18, esp. PRC unrest and Taiwan crisis.
Results: **Two write-ups for talking (see Disciplinary Form, attached), but otherwise as attentive as could be expected.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Could Activity 1 have also been done in lecture format?**
Last 5 min: Answer questions, explain homework.
Results: **Several questions on what it meant to be "leftist" and "rightist" pre-2019. No questions on homework.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **In future, spend longer on the lecture and handle questions thru social media?**
Reading: Chapter 2 from textbook, section: "The Taiwan Crisis."
Homework: Take on the role of a leftist or rightist voter. Write a message (at least 1 page double-spaced) to POTUS advising what to do about the Taiwan crisis.
Vice Principal's Notes: **None**
*************
"Jordan, they don't know anything! *Anything!*"
"What'd you expect? These younguns with their gizmos and their slang and their funny way of walking... probably couldn't find their ass without googling it!"
"Hey, I was raised by and iPad and a succession of Android phones, but I picked up a very solid grounding in history, thank you very much. But most of the kids wouldn't know a democrat from a monarchist!"
"Eh, we've got an archive of kid-safe political correspondence, right? Bury 'em in primary source documents, let God sort it out."
"That's not really my style. I have to find a way to make a game of it..."
"Yes, I too was once young."
*************
Lesson Plan 2 and Follow-up Notes
Submitted 19:22:00 Tue 9th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 29:32:11 Tue 9th November 2038
Warm up (5 min): Quick Jeopardy-style game on Lesson 1 dates and names, winning team gets special username flair for student account until weekend.
Result: **Good recall from yesterday, although Jenna Evans and Marcus Cooper still very reluctant to speak up in class.**
Vice Principal's notes: **Good subject matter, but could it have been done as a paper quiz?**
Activity 1 (10 minutes): Present collection of actual messages sent by voters to POTUS at the time of the Taiwan Crisis. Students will choose one, and try to predict the writer's affiliation at the time (leftist or rightist) and affiliation post-2019 (Loyalist, Militarist, or Insurrectionist).
Result: **Majority of students able to pick out leftist or rightist, but could not predict post-2019 affiliation with any accuracy. Most assumed Rightists were Militarist and Leftists were Insurrectionist, and seemed to guess wildly at who was loyalist.
Vice Principal's notes: **Insufficient context? It seems like students will be guessing at post-2019 affiliation based on what they have heard from their parents and seen in the media about the war and the three sides.**
Activity 2 (20 minutes): Split into groups of three or four. Give each group a list of necessary military equipment and standard salary, and available supplies and budget during the first five months of the 2018 Financial and Industrial crisis (see attachment: Worksheet 1). Have them choose which to cut in which month. A representative from each group will present their decisions and reasoning to the class.
Results: **Ran slightly over allotted time by about 3 minutes. Groups were mostly on-task except the students mentioned in Disciplinary Report. Students expressed surprise at shortages, most were not aware of this aspect of the Taiwan Crisis.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Activities should not run over, cut them short if necessary.**
Lecture (until end of class): End of the Taiwan crisis, the PRC and US military mutinies.
Results: **Students became inattentive, began to fidget and doodle. Improvised and tried to elicit predictions for what would happen next, e.g. "Why was the nuclear option being discussed? How would the troops react to this?" Interest picked up slightly but had to keep them 2 min. past bell to finish the lecture.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Improvisation not strictly necessary. Next time stick to the lecture and report fidgeters on Disciplinary Report. No students were late to next class, so no harm no foul this time, but tread carefully.**
Reading: Chapter 2 from textbook, section: "The Mutiny"
Homework: 2 paragraphs (at least 4 complete sentences each) on the topic: "What would justify the use of tactical nuclear weapons?"
**************
"Hey Kat. How goes the war?
"I think I'm getting into the swing of it, but Vice Principal Harris is on my ass about less activities and more lectures."
"Oh really? Is the sky also blue?"
"At the moment? Grey, actually. Any tips on getting him off my case?"
"I find being half a foot taller and 10 years his senior helps tremendously. Have you tried that?"
"Seriously, though."
"I dunno. He talks a big game, but as long as you hit your milestones, he usually can't be bothered to actually do anything. If you can fit in activities *and* speed up the pace, he might even praise—well, no, he wouldn't, but he might not scold you for it."
*************
Lesson Plan 3 and Follow-Up Notes
Submitted 20:05:49 Wed 10th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 21:41:28 Wed 10th November 2038
Warm up (10 min): Betting game. Split into groups of 3 or 4. Give access to 5 social media feeds, none of which explicitly mention POTUS' considering the nuclear option. Have them bet on when in the feed the news broke that the nuclear option was being considered. Winners get 5 points on the next quiz.
Results: **Game was fairly easy and ended early. 3 teams tied, but competition was not so much the point as to get them to pick out the diverse reactions to the news: increased or decreased religiosity, abrupt changes in plans, sudden arguments or reconciliations with friends and family, etc.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Good job going ahead of schedule.**
Lecture (15 min): The initial anti-nuclear military mutinies and urban civil unrest in the US, the beginnings of the Militarist-Insurrectionist alliance.
Results: **Warm up ended early, so was able to use extra time to also cover PRC mutinies and unrest.**
Vice Principal's notes: **Next time try to notate more exactly how much time saved.**
Activity 1 (15 min): Students split into pairs. Give one student a condensed version of mutineer's demands, another a summary of one protest group's demands. Have them discuss what they wanted the other party to do, and what the other party must avoid doing to keep their sympathy. At the end of class, take a poll on how many students think that the mutineer-protestor alliance was basically solid at the beginning, and how many think it was basically unworkable from the beginning.
Results: **Good discussion, except for one pair noted on the Disciplinary Form. Almost all students concluded the alliance was basically unworkable. If there is time I would like to devote some of the lecture to why the alliance was thought to be a good idea by both sides.**
Vice Principal's notes: **An acceptable activity for this early stage of the war, but steer away from this sort of thing from now on. Parents who fought for the Loyalists would be extremely displeased to learn their children were learning to sympathize with the other side. Also, stick to the curriculum for lectures. "Why" questions are not required until later grades, stick to teaching events and dates.**
*******************
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[WP] In 2019, massive unrest sweeps across America. Its 2038, you're a history teacher...tasked with teaching the 2nd American Civil War.
|
Teaching controversial topics is something that every history teacher has to do eventually. It's usually the more recent things that I worry about teaching though. Nobody cares about the right and wrong of the Norman Invasion of England in 1066, but the Second American Civil War is still a hot topic, despite the fact that it ended over a decade ago.
As I entered the classroom, my students fell silent and sat up straight. I couldn't help but think about how disorderly I had been in school, and how the teacher's presence had meant nothing to myself and my fellow classmates. Now, my fourteen and fifteen year-old students didn't say a word, and wouldn't until I asked them to. I set my phone on my desk, and with the push of a button, the screen projected itself onto the wall. It showed my desktop, with the date in opaque, black letters in the lower right corner. "July 4th, 2038." I looked around the room to make sure that my students were ready to take notes. Once I was ready, I broke their respectful silence.
"Good morning class, how is everybody today?"
"Good, Mr. Turner," they replied at once. I nodded and looked down at my phone.
"Begin keynote, 'Second American Civil War.'" The screen changed to a picture, with a title in front of it. The picture showed three men wearing camouflage fatigues, two holding M16 assault rifles, while the third was holding an older-looking shotgun. They had red patches on their sleeves, with the black silhouette of an Elephant embroidered on them.
"Today we're going to discuss the most important event in American 21st Century History so far. Do any of you remember anything about the war?" I didn't expect much of an answer from them. The war had ended in 2025, so my students would have just been born. None of the students raised their hands, though I suspected that it was more because they didn't want to say anything, rather than that they didn't have anything to say.
"Ok, can any of you tell me why I picked today to talk about?" One student raised his hand, and I pointed to him.
"Because it was the old government's Independence Day," he said.
"Very good," I touched the wall my screen was projected onto, and it went to the next slide. "So, first, we're going to talk about the prelude to the war, take notes here. The 2018 General Election was the most contentious in American History. Prior elections had been a source of resentment between the Republicans and the Democrats, but no recent election had resorted to violence until then. Clashes between Republican and Democrat demonstrators in Dallas in April of 2018 led to an outbreak of violence across the United States that affected most major American cities. It was during this violence that the President ordered the Federal Emergency Management Administration, or FEMA, to go into the cities affected by the violence and try to maintain stability. However, many Governors of the states in the U.S. refused to declare a State of Emergency. It's important to point out, we know from some of those Governor's staffers, that they were hoping that their supporters would win in the fighting, and prevent the opposition from voting. So, the President was not entirely wrong when he overrode those Governors and had FEMA agents enter the state under guard from the Army.
"He promised that they would only remain until after the election, and the end of hostilities between citizens." I went to the next slide, which showed a photograph of two U.S. Army soldiers wearing gas masks, standing in front of a sign that read, "Medical Relief." I then went to the next slide, which had more text on it. "After the Democratic party won a majority in the Senate, many Republicans accused them of voting fraud, and demanded a recount. The Senate wouldn't pass a measure requiring the recount, so Senate Republicans began filibustering every bill that was put forth, in protest. That continued for almost three months, until March of 2019, when the President ordered that Filibustering be disallowed in Congress. The Democrats proposed the Bill, but the Republicans continued to filibuster against it. After five straight days without progress, the President ordered the Master-at-Arms to arrest anyone who approached the bench to filibuster, or spoke for longer than two minutes. A Republican Senator tried to filibuster anyway, and was violently removed from the chamber by security.
"After footage of the fight between the Senator and security reached the Internet, there were massive protests by Republicans across the country. What's important to understand is, at this time, the Republican Party was the Party of many potential revolutionaries and Militia groups who were prepared to overthrow the government. The Democrats didn't believe in that kind of violent disobedience. Knowing that, we can say that it shouldn't have been much of a surprise when, on April 21st, 2019, a group of Republican Militiamen attacked an Air Force base in Cheyenne, and took control of several nuclear weapons. The Militia requested that the recount be passed through Congress, or they would fire a nuclear missile at Washington D.C. They were killed before they could launch the missile, and chances are they couldn't have, even though they wanted to. However, that event is significant, because it led to the beginning of Republican Uprisings across the United States. Early on, many Republican governors supported these uprisings, and did little to protect Democrats from anti-liberal violence.
"The uprisings culminated on May 16th, when the Governor of Texas led several Republican states in mobilizing their National Guard Units, and demanded that the President order a recount of the 2018 vote. This is the last point at which the President could have potentially stopped the Civil War from beginning, if he'd bowed to the State's demands, they likely would have stood down. However, instead, the President ordered the Army and Air Force to begin conducting combat operations against rebellious units in the Republican States. This is why May 16th is seen as the beginning of the Second Civil War, and the first major battle, the Battle of San Diego, began four days after.
"We won't get into what happened during the war until next week, but the basic facts are that the Republican State's heavily armed populations and effective military leadership allowed them to make broad gains against the Democratic states early on, but the Democratic State's economic development meant that they were able to far outdo the Republican forces in terms of equipment and supplies for their troops. The Democrats were able to push back the Republicans, and by 2025, both sides were ready to meet for peace talks. The talks were hosted in Ottawa, Canada, and they took five days. The two sides agreed to sign the Treaty of Ottawa, which split the United States of America, into the Democratic States of America, and the Republican States of America." I wanted to cover more than that, but I already knew that the school would be getting a few calls from parents tonight saying that I should be fired. Principal Finnick has always backed me up, but it's not always easy.
The educational reforms in the Democratic States of America removed all tenure, so I could easily get fired. I've known a lot of good teacher's who were fired because they said something that somebody thought was offensive, or did something that a parent thought was insensitive. I've been accused of being a racist for talking about the First Civil War, a Fascist for talking about Hitler, and a Republican for talking about the Second Civil War. My old teachers had never had to worry about this sort of thing, even though people had already been easily offended back then. Hard as it is to keep my job, I know that I'm better off here than in the Republican States. There, they write history the way that they want it to be read, and not how it should be. I remember seeing a magazine at Walmart a few days ago, talking about how the R.S.A. is the only country that teaches creationism in every aspect of their educational system. I couldn't do that. I couldn't tell my students that the Earth is only a few thousand years old, when I know it really is billions. I couldn't tell them that all of the Founding Fathers were Fundamentalist Christians, when they were really Deists. I most certainly couldn't tell them that it was the Democrats who launched the first nuclear strike, when I know that the Republicans are responsible for the day when the bombs fell.
There's little more than ashes for us to remember the old world by. People called it the bloodiest Civil War in history, but I'm not sure that's true. A Civil War is a Brother's War, where families are torn apart, fighting against each other because of slight differences in ideology. America had begun to tear apart long before the Civil War started. We saw the signs, all the political polarization in Congress, the screaming Talk Show Hosts, the online message boards. I think that people gave up on a United America long before they started fighting to end it.
|
"Hey, Jordan, could I pick your brain a bit?"
"Sure Kat, what's up?"
"Well, I'm starting to teach Chapter Two..."
"Ooh, the war. Dicey."
"Yeah, it is, but that's not my problem at the moment. I'm just not sure where to start. It only happened twenty years ago, the kids will know so much already. I just don't want to bore them."
"I dunno, I'm always surprised at what my kids don't know. Did I tell you about the girl in Earth Science who thought the earth was shaped like a disco ball?"
"But, I mean, a lot of their parents must have..."
"If you're worried, squish the lectures a bit and make some activities to test their knowledge in the first class period."
"Yeah... we sort of rushed through Chapter 1 so I do have some breathing room. Thanks!"
"Sure thing. Tell me how it goes!"
****************
Chattanooga United School District
US History Grade 8 Class 3
Instructor: Katniss Schlegel
*******************
Lesson Plan 1 and Follow-up Notes
Submitted 20:39:24 Mon 8th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 21:52:15 Mon 8th November 2038
Class time: 40 minutes
Topic: Prelude to 2nd Civil War
Warm-up (5 min): Ask names of major 2nd Civil War figures students have heard of, their positions and significance
Materials: none
Result: **As expected, students were able to name final POTUS, 2nd VP, and 2nd VP's assassin. Several students knew of Insurrectionist twitter handles, but only one real name. Jeremy Feng able to name several Insurrectionist, Militarist, and Loyalist military leaders but was in most cases hazy on their significance or which side they were on.**
Vice Principal's notes: **None**
Activity 1 (20 min): Split students into pairs. One will read a Leftist article on the 2016 election, one a Rightist article. Have the students work together to answer the questions:
1. What did the Left and Right most fear would happen in POTUS' term? What did they most hope would happen?
2. Which one issue was most important to both sides?
Then discuss as a class.
Result: **Most pairs did mention economic issues, but a plurality (4 pairs out of 10) mentioned Insurrectionist issues which were not relevant until 2018. In discussion, I emphasized that when we approach primary sources we must remember that people in the past didn't know what was going to happen.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Unnecessary. Historiographical approaches not covered by test. Grasp of dates and events are most important. Stick to those in future lessons.**
Lecture (10 min): Have students take notes on international events of 2016-18, esp. PRC unrest and Taiwan crisis.
Results: **Two write-ups for talking (see Disciplinary Form, attached), but otherwise as attentive as could be expected.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Could Activity 1 have also been done in lecture format?**
Last 5 min: Answer questions, explain homework.
Results: **Several questions on what it meant to be "leftist" and "rightist" pre-2019. No questions on homework.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **In future, spend longer on the lecture and handle questions thru social media?**
Reading: Chapter 2 from textbook, section: "The Taiwan Crisis."
Homework: Take on the role of a leftist or rightist voter. Write a message (at least 1 page double-spaced) to POTUS advising what to do about the Taiwan crisis.
Vice Principal's Notes: **None**
*************
"Jordan, they don't know anything! *Anything!*"
"What'd you expect? These younguns with their gizmos and their slang and their funny way of walking... probably couldn't find their ass without googling it!"
"Hey, I was raised by and iPad and a succession of Android phones, but I picked up a very solid grounding in history, thank you very much. But most of the kids wouldn't know a democrat from a monarchist!"
"Eh, we've got an archive of kid-safe political correspondence, right? Bury 'em in primary source documents, let God sort it out."
"That's not really my style. I have to find a way to make a game of it..."
"Yes, I too was once young."
*************
Lesson Plan 2 and Follow-up Notes
Submitted 19:22:00 Tue 9th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 29:32:11 Tue 9th November 2038
Warm up (5 min): Quick Jeopardy-style game on Lesson 1 dates and names, winning team gets special username flair for student account until weekend.
Result: **Good recall from yesterday, although Jenna Evans and Marcus Cooper still very reluctant to speak up in class.**
Vice Principal's notes: **Good subject matter, but could it have been done as a paper quiz?**
Activity 1 (10 minutes): Present collection of actual messages sent by voters to POTUS at the time of the Taiwan Crisis. Students will choose one, and try to predict the writer's affiliation at the time (leftist or rightist) and affiliation post-2019 (Loyalist, Militarist, or Insurrectionist).
Result: **Majority of students able to pick out leftist or rightist, but could not predict post-2019 affiliation with any accuracy. Most assumed Rightists were Militarist and Leftists were Insurrectionist, and seemed to guess wildly at who was loyalist.
Vice Principal's notes: **Insufficient context? It seems like students will be guessing at post-2019 affiliation based on what they have heard from their parents and seen in the media about the war and the three sides.**
Activity 2 (20 minutes): Split into groups of three or four. Give each group a list of necessary military equipment and standard salary, and available supplies and budget during the first five months of the 2018 Financial and Industrial crisis (see attachment: Worksheet 1). Have them choose which to cut in which month. A representative from each group will present their decisions and reasoning to the class.
Results: **Ran slightly over allotted time by about 3 minutes. Groups were mostly on-task except the students mentioned in Disciplinary Report. Students expressed surprise at shortages, most were not aware of this aspect of the Taiwan Crisis.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Activities should not run over, cut them short if necessary.**
Lecture (until end of class): End of the Taiwan crisis, the PRC and US military mutinies.
Results: **Students became inattentive, began to fidget and doodle. Improvised and tried to elicit predictions for what would happen next, e.g. "Why was the nuclear option being discussed? How would the troops react to this?" Interest picked up slightly but had to keep them 2 min. past bell to finish the lecture.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Improvisation not strictly necessary. Next time stick to the lecture and report fidgeters on Disciplinary Report. No students were late to next class, so no harm no foul this time, but tread carefully.**
Reading: Chapter 2 from textbook, section: "The Mutiny"
Homework: 2 paragraphs (at least 4 complete sentences each) on the topic: "What would justify the use of tactical nuclear weapons?"
**************
"Hey Kat. How goes the war?
"I think I'm getting into the swing of it, but Vice Principal Harris is on my ass about less activities and more lectures."
"Oh really? Is the sky also blue?"
"At the moment? Grey, actually. Any tips on getting him off my case?"
"I find being half a foot taller and 10 years his senior helps tremendously. Have you tried that?"
"Seriously, though."
"I dunno. He talks a big game, but as long as you hit your milestones, he usually can't be bothered to actually do anything. If you can fit in activities *and* speed up the pace, he might even praise—well, no, he wouldn't, but he might not scold you for it."
*************
Lesson Plan 3 and Follow-Up Notes
Submitted 20:05:49 Wed 10th November 2038
Vice Principal's Notes submitted 21:41:28 Wed 10th November 2038
Warm up (10 min): Betting game. Split into groups of 3 or 4. Give access to 5 social media feeds, none of which explicitly mention POTUS' considering the nuclear option. Have them bet on when in the feed the news broke that the nuclear option was being considered. Winners get 5 points on the next quiz.
Results: **Game was fairly easy and ended early. 3 teams tied, but competition was not so much the point as to get them to pick out the diverse reactions to the news: increased or decreased religiosity, abrupt changes in plans, sudden arguments or reconciliations with friends and family, etc.**
Vice Principal's Notes: **Good job going ahead of schedule.**
Lecture (15 min): The initial anti-nuclear military mutinies and urban civil unrest in the US, the beginnings of the Militarist-Insurrectionist alliance.
Results: **Warm up ended early, so was able to use extra time to also cover PRC mutinies and unrest.**
Vice Principal's notes: **Next time try to notate more exactly how much time saved.**
Activity 1 (15 min): Students split into pairs. Give one student a condensed version of mutineer's demands, another a summary of one protest group's demands. Have them discuss what they wanted the other party to do, and what the other party must avoid doing to keep their sympathy. At the end of class, take a poll on how many students think that the mutineer-protestor alliance was basically solid at the beginning, and how many think it was basically unworkable from the beginning.
Results: **Good discussion, except for one pair noted on the Disciplinary Form. Almost all students concluded the alliance was basically unworkable. If there is time I would like to devote some of the lecture to why the alliance was thought to be a good idea by both sides.**
Vice Principal's notes: **An acceptable activity for this early stage of the war, but steer away from this sort of thing from now on. Parents who fought for the Loyalists would be extremely displeased to learn their children were learning to sympathize with the other side. Also, stick to the curriculum for lectures. "Why" questions are not required until later grades, stick to teaching events and dates.**
*******************
|
|
[WP] In 2019, massive unrest sweeps across America. Its 2038, you're a history teacher...tasked with teaching the 2nd American Civil War.
|
Teaching controversial topics is something that every history teacher has to do eventually. It's usually the more recent things that I worry about teaching though. Nobody cares about the right and wrong of the Norman Invasion of England in 1066, but the Second American Civil War is still a hot topic, despite the fact that it ended over a decade ago.
As I entered the classroom, my students fell silent and sat up straight. I couldn't help but think about how disorderly I had been in school, and how the teacher's presence had meant nothing to myself and my fellow classmates. Now, my fourteen and fifteen year-old students didn't say a word, and wouldn't until I asked them to. I set my phone on my desk, and with the push of a button, the screen projected itself onto the wall. It showed my desktop, with the date in opaque, black letters in the lower right corner. "July 4th, 2038." I looked around the room to make sure that my students were ready to take notes. Once I was ready, I broke their respectful silence.
"Good morning class, how is everybody today?"
"Good, Mr. Turner," they replied at once. I nodded and looked down at my phone.
"Begin keynote, 'Second American Civil War.'" The screen changed to a picture, with a title in front of it. The picture showed three men wearing camouflage fatigues, two holding M16 assault rifles, while the third was holding an older-looking shotgun. They had red patches on their sleeves, with the black silhouette of an Elephant embroidered on them.
"Today we're going to discuss the most important event in American 21st Century History so far. Do any of you remember anything about the war?" I didn't expect much of an answer from them. The war had ended in 2025, so my students would have just been born. None of the students raised their hands, though I suspected that it was more because they didn't want to say anything, rather than that they didn't have anything to say.
"Ok, can any of you tell me why I picked today to talk about?" One student raised his hand, and I pointed to him.
"Because it was the old government's Independence Day," he said.
"Very good," I touched the wall my screen was projected onto, and it went to the next slide. "So, first, we're going to talk about the prelude to the war, take notes here. The 2018 General Election was the most contentious in American History. Prior elections had been a source of resentment between the Republicans and the Democrats, but no recent election had resorted to violence until then. Clashes between Republican and Democrat demonstrators in Dallas in April of 2018 led to an outbreak of violence across the United States that affected most major American cities. It was during this violence that the President ordered the Federal Emergency Management Administration, or FEMA, to go into the cities affected by the violence and try to maintain stability. However, many Governors of the states in the U.S. refused to declare a State of Emergency. It's important to point out, we know from some of those Governor's staffers, that they were hoping that their supporters would win in the fighting, and prevent the opposition from voting. So, the President was not entirely wrong when he overrode those Governors and had FEMA agents enter the state under guard from the Army.
"He promised that they would only remain until after the election, and the end of hostilities between citizens." I went to the next slide, which showed a photograph of two U.S. Army soldiers wearing gas masks, standing in front of a sign that read, "Medical Relief." I then went to the next slide, which had more text on it. "After the Democratic party won a majority in the Senate, many Republicans accused them of voting fraud, and demanded a recount. The Senate wouldn't pass a measure requiring the recount, so Senate Republicans began filibustering every bill that was put forth, in protest. That continued for almost three months, until March of 2019, when the President ordered that Filibustering be disallowed in Congress. The Democrats proposed the Bill, but the Republicans continued to filibuster against it. After five straight days without progress, the President ordered the Master-at-Arms to arrest anyone who approached the bench to filibuster, or spoke for longer than two minutes. A Republican Senator tried to filibuster anyway, and was violently removed from the chamber by security.
"After footage of the fight between the Senator and security reached the Internet, there were massive protests by Republicans across the country. What's important to understand is, at this time, the Republican Party was the Party of many potential revolutionaries and Militia groups who were prepared to overthrow the government. The Democrats didn't believe in that kind of violent disobedience. Knowing that, we can say that it shouldn't have been much of a surprise when, on April 21st, 2019, a group of Republican Militiamen attacked an Air Force base in Cheyenne, and took control of several nuclear weapons. The Militia requested that the recount be passed through Congress, or they would fire a nuclear missile at Washington D.C. They were killed before they could launch the missile, and chances are they couldn't have, even though they wanted to. However, that event is significant, because it led to the beginning of Republican Uprisings across the United States. Early on, many Republican governors supported these uprisings, and did little to protect Democrats from anti-liberal violence.
"The uprisings culminated on May 16th, when the Governor of Texas led several Republican states in mobilizing their National Guard Units, and demanded that the President order a recount of the 2018 vote. This is the last point at which the President could have potentially stopped the Civil War from beginning, if he'd bowed to the State's demands, they likely would have stood down. However, instead, the President ordered the Army and Air Force to begin conducting combat operations against rebellious units in the Republican States. This is why May 16th is seen as the beginning of the Second Civil War, and the first major battle, the Battle of San Diego, began four days after.
"We won't get into what happened during the war until next week, but the basic facts are that the Republican State's heavily armed populations and effective military leadership allowed them to make broad gains against the Democratic states early on, but the Democratic State's economic development meant that they were able to far outdo the Republican forces in terms of equipment and supplies for their troops. The Democrats were able to push back the Republicans, and by 2025, both sides were ready to meet for peace talks. The talks were hosted in Ottawa, Canada, and they took five days. The two sides agreed to sign the Treaty of Ottawa, which split the United States of America, into the Democratic States of America, and the Republican States of America." I wanted to cover more than that, but I already knew that the school would be getting a few calls from parents tonight saying that I should be fired. Principal Finnick has always backed me up, but it's not always easy.
The educational reforms in the Democratic States of America removed all tenure, so I could easily get fired. I've known a lot of good teacher's who were fired because they said something that somebody thought was offensive, or did something that a parent thought was insensitive. I've been accused of being a racist for talking about the First Civil War, a Fascist for talking about Hitler, and a Republican for talking about the Second Civil War. My old teachers had never had to worry about this sort of thing, even though people had already been easily offended back then. Hard as it is to keep my job, I know that I'm better off here than in the Republican States. There, they write history the way that they want it to be read, and not how it should be. I remember seeing a magazine at Walmart a few days ago, talking about how the R.S.A. is the only country that teaches creationism in every aspect of their educational system. I couldn't do that. I couldn't tell my students that the Earth is only a few thousand years old, when I know it really is billions. I couldn't tell them that all of the Founding Fathers were Fundamentalist Christians, when they were really Deists. I most certainly couldn't tell them that it was the Democrats who launched the first nuclear strike, when I know that the Republicans are responsible for the day when the bombs fell.
There's little more than ashes for us to remember the old world by. People called it the bloodiest Civil War in history, but I'm not sure that's true. A Civil War is a Brother's War, where families are torn apart, fighting against each other because of slight differences in ideology. America had begun to tear apart long before the Civil War started. We saw the signs, all the political polarization in Congress, the screaming Talk Show Hosts, the online message boards. I think that people gave up on a United America long before they started fighting to end it.
|
"Thomas, what was the cause of the first revolutionary war?"
"Taxation without representation."
"And what exactly does that mean, Brittany?"
"The British wanted the Colonies to pay for their wars, without letting them vote on anything."
"Absolutely right. What was the cause of the second revolutionary war?"
"A couple of twats all upset about their guns."
"Jeremy! That's detention after school, young man."
As the class erupted in snickers, I turned around to the board, picking up the DigiPen and scribbling across the white reflective surface, "Firearm Regulations". I spun back around, setting the pen back down on the desk. "But, yes, firearms regulations. Namely, the public carry bans that sprung up about sixteen months prior. Yes Jennifer?"
"Wasn't the real cause the civil rights riots of 2017?"
I sighed. "They presented a large amount of the unrest, but the reactionary banning of public carry in 23 states is considered, chiefly, the major cause of the revolution. The riots over the shootings of six teenagers in a club were, to be truthful, very harmful, but with over a hundred dead from rioter gunfire, almost 300 from police gunfire, and a whole long line of arrests, the Clinton gun bill was an immediate cause of the revolution. It took over a year before people realized a full scale civil war was out, and sadly it can be said the northeastern states were the most blind to the problem. Now, however, we have a whole new set of problems. Who can tell us one of the major repercussions of the second revolution?"
Several hands shot up in the air, and I pointed at random. "Claus?"
"The secession of the New Texican states?"
I nodded. "Good, what else-"
"The California DMZ!"
"Yes, William, but please wait until you're called upon. Sarah, a third?"
"Ummm... Uhh... Oh! The Utah black bill."
"That's correct. The entire state of Utah, under mormon legislation, banned all firearms and personal weaponry with regular city-by-city sweeps for contraband weaponry. Surprising thing to see from the Mormons. So, we have three major repercussions, and a few that people consider minor, but I'd like to talk about one that most people seem to not take seriously, the reinstatement of the PATRIOT Act as permanent legislation. Everyone just sort of shrugs, there's no problem right? I mean, Big Government could always see what you posted online, what you put in your social media, so who cares?"
I turned around, and scribbled something else up on the board, reading as I went. "Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety." I turned back around. "For tonight, I'd like to see a 1 KB or more textfile, NO layout, on what Safety we've gained from the permanent PATRIOT Act, as well as what Liberty we've given up. Also, an argument on whether that Safety is truly permanent, or temporary as Mr. Franklin stated? Bonus points on persuasive arguments. Tomorrow, the battle of San Francisco, as well as the Arabic detainment camps in South Dakota."
"Bout the only thing South Dakota's useful for..."
"JEREMY!"
|
|
[WP] In 2019, massive unrest sweeps across America. Its 2038, you're a history teacher...tasked with teaching the 2nd American Civil War.
|
Teaching controversial topics is something that every history teacher has to do eventually. It's usually the more recent things that I worry about teaching though. Nobody cares about the right and wrong of the Norman Invasion of England in 1066, but the Second American Civil War is still a hot topic, despite the fact that it ended over a decade ago.
As I entered the classroom, my students fell silent and sat up straight. I couldn't help but think about how disorderly I had been in school, and how the teacher's presence had meant nothing to myself and my fellow classmates. Now, my fourteen and fifteen year-old students didn't say a word, and wouldn't until I asked them to. I set my phone on my desk, and with the push of a button, the screen projected itself onto the wall. It showed my desktop, with the date in opaque, black letters in the lower right corner. "July 4th, 2038." I looked around the room to make sure that my students were ready to take notes. Once I was ready, I broke their respectful silence.
"Good morning class, how is everybody today?"
"Good, Mr. Turner," they replied at once. I nodded and looked down at my phone.
"Begin keynote, 'Second American Civil War.'" The screen changed to a picture, with a title in front of it. The picture showed three men wearing camouflage fatigues, two holding M16 assault rifles, while the third was holding an older-looking shotgun. They had red patches on their sleeves, with the black silhouette of an Elephant embroidered on them.
"Today we're going to discuss the most important event in American 21st Century History so far. Do any of you remember anything about the war?" I didn't expect much of an answer from them. The war had ended in 2025, so my students would have just been born. None of the students raised their hands, though I suspected that it was more because they didn't want to say anything, rather than that they didn't have anything to say.
"Ok, can any of you tell me why I picked today to talk about?" One student raised his hand, and I pointed to him.
"Because it was the old government's Independence Day," he said.
"Very good," I touched the wall my screen was projected onto, and it went to the next slide. "So, first, we're going to talk about the prelude to the war, take notes here. The 2018 General Election was the most contentious in American History. Prior elections had been a source of resentment between the Republicans and the Democrats, but no recent election had resorted to violence until then. Clashes between Republican and Democrat demonstrators in Dallas in April of 2018 led to an outbreak of violence across the United States that affected most major American cities. It was during this violence that the President ordered the Federal Emergency Management Administration, or FEMA, to go into the cities affected by the violence and try to maintain stability. However, many Governors of the states in the U.S. refused to declare a State of Emergency. It's important to point out, we know from some of those Governor's staffers, that they were hoping that their supporters would win in the fighting, and prevent the opposition from voting. So, the President was not entirely wrong when he overrode those Governors and had FEMA agents enter the state under guard from the Army.
"He promised that they would only remain until after the election, and the end of hostilities between citizens." I went to the next slide, which showed a photograph of two U.S. Army soldiers wearing gas masks, standing in front of a sign that read, "Medical Relief." I then went to the next slide, which had more text on it. "After the Democratic party won a majority in the Senate, many Republicans accused them of voting fraud, and demanded a recount. The Senate wouldn't pass a measure requiring the recount, so Senate Republicans began filibustering every bill that was put forth, in protest. That continued for almost three months, until March of 2019, when the President ordered that Filibustering be disallowed in Congress. The Democrats proposed the Bill, but the Republicans continued to filibuster against it. After five straight days without progress, the President ordered the Master-at-Arms to arrest anyone who approached the bench to filibuster, or spoke for longer than two minutes. A Republican Senator tried to filibuster anyway, and was violently removed from the chamber by security.
"After footage of the fight between the Senator and security reached the Internet, there were massive protests by Republicans across the country. What's important to understand is, at this time, the Republican Party was the Party of many potential revolutionaries and Militia groups who were prepared to overthrow the government. The Democrats didn't believe in that kind of violent disobedience. Knowing that, we can say that it shouldn't have been much of a surprise when, on April 21st, 2019, a group of Republican Militiamen attacked an Air Force base in Cheyenne, and took control of several nuclear weapons. The Militia requested that the recount be passed through Congress, or they would fire a nuclear missile at Washington D.C. They were killed before they could launch the missile, and chances are they couldn't have, even though they wanted to. However, that event is significant, because it led to the beginning of Republican Uprisings across the United States. Early on, many Republican governors supported these uprisings, and did little to protect Democrats from anti-liberal violence.
"The uprisings culminated on May 16th, when the Governor of Texas led several Republican states in mobilizing their National Guard Units, and demanded that the President order a recount of the 2018 vote. This is the last point at which the President could have potentially stopped the Civil War from beginning, if he'd bowed to the State's demands, they likely would have stood down. However, instead, the President ordered the Army and Air Force to begin conducting combat operations against rebellious units in the Republican States. This is why May 16th is seen as the beginning of the Second Civil War, and the first major battle, the Battle of San Diego, began four days after.
"We won't get into what happened during the war until next week, but the basic facts are that the Republican State's heavily armed populations and effective military leadership allowed them to make broad gains against the Democratic states early on, but the Democratic State's economic development meant that they were able to far outdo the Republican forces in terms of equipment and supplies for their troops. The Democrats were able to push back the Republicans, and by 2025, both sides were ready to meet for peace talks. The talks were hosted in Ottawa, Canada, and they took five days. The two sides agreed to sign the Treaty of Ottawa, which split the United States of America, into the Democratic States of America, and the Republican States of America." I wanted to cover more than that, but I already knew that the school would be getting a few calls from parents tonight saying that I should be fired. Principal Finnick has always backed me up, but it's not always easy.
The educational reforms in the Democratic States of America removed all tenure, so I could easily get fired. I've known a lot of good teacher's who were fired because they said something that somebody thought was offensive, or did something that a parent thought was insensitive. I've been accused of being a racist for talking about the First Civil War, a Fascist for talking about Hitler, and a Republican for talking about the Second Civil War. My old teachers had never had to worry about this sort of thing, even though people had already been easily offended back then. Hard as it is to keep my job, I know that I'm better off here than in the Republican States. There, they write history the way that they want it to be read, and not how it should be. I remember seeing a magazine at Walmart a few days ago, talking about how the R.S.A. is the only country that teaches creationism in every aspect of their educational system. I couldn't do that. I couldn't tell my students that the Earth is only a few thousand years old, when I know it really is billions. I couldn't tell them that all of the Founding Fathers were Fundamentalist Christians, when they were really Deists. I most certainly couldn't tell them that it was the Democrats who launched the first nuclear strike, when I know that the Republicans are responsible for the day when the bombs fell.
There's little more than ashes for us to remember the old world by. People called it the bloodiest Civil War in history, but I'm not sure that's true. A Civil War is a Brother's War, where families are torn apart, fighting against each other because of slight differences in ideology. America had begun to tear apart long before the Civil War started. We saw the signs, all the political polarization in Congress, the screaming Talk Show Hosts, the online message boards. I think that people gave up on a United America long before they started fighting to end it.
|
"Though the Austin Offensive initially took place on 2021, beginning the official 2nd Civil War, we can trace our roots back to 2019, during the San-Fran Riots regarding the California Water Shortages."
"Drought, professor. It was a drought."
"No one gives a shit, William. Sit back down."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
History was always a difficult concept, thought Ms. Hershey as she rested her boots on her desk. In her hand, sat a small pen-like piece of metal. Its blue light was emitted on the map that sat to her side, circling around the Southern US Corridor (which stretched west-to-east from New Mexico to Lousiana and south-to-north from Texas to Kansas).
William, being the absolute twat that he was, was busy pointing another red laser pointer near the same spot.
"Cut that out, William."
"Piss off."
"Now, we all might be asking ourselves, who started the war? Was it the Texan Confederacy or the Washington Union? To be partial, and correlating to your final, neither side was responsible. You see, in the State of California, a **drought**..."
Hershey glared daggers at the smirking William.
"...placed the state's citizens in a state of panic. Due to poor planning from Republican Governor Elton, the situation regarding water became worse and worse and the reservoirs and reserves soon dried up. At that time, a number of major counties, led by San Francisco, began to act in protest against the harsh policies."
"I'd like it to be known that Elton's actions were only a result of the Democratic Governor-Bitch Chealsy Sterling's absolute crap policies regarding internal infrastructure and foreign relations!" William loudly declared to the echoing lecture hall. He turned to the boy taking notes by his side, and mocked a whisper. "Four-hundred billion to a bunch of third-world shit-eaters. For what? Nothing? Bullshit if you ask me."
"Zip it, William! Don't you have a mess hall to clean? I heard the frat boys splattered pizza on the walls as a prank."
"There's a bigger hot mess in this lecture room and I'm looking right at it, Amy."
The students roared in snickering and giggling. A young white girl sitting in the highest seat pulled out her camera and began taking video footage of this event to post it later. Unfortunately, she filmed in vertical, so nobody gave the hilarity a second look.
"Whatever. Anyways, back to the topic at hand..." Amy paused, taking a look at William shrugging his shoulders before she could continue.
"Outraged by the lack of available public service, California immediately demanded more aid from the federal government or it would insist on cutting ties with the Union. Fortunately, an agreement was made, and California was immediately granted aid from the most well-off states at the time... This is where we see Texas's first act of resistance towards the policy. North Carolina, and Georgia followed suit."
"Fucking Florida and their neutrality bullshit."
"Yes, indeed. Fuck Florida," said Hershey, staring at her boots. They would need a good shining later tonight, the leather was getting dull. "In case anyone didn't know, Florida decided to pretend the policy did not even exist as opposed to following or resisting it. It was the funniest event of 2019, and acknowledged by even the United Kingdom as 'the stupidest move since North Korea tried to test nukes on a Japanese fishing boat and lost two-hundred of their own men.' Anyone do a paper on that, I'll mark up some points!"
"Professor. Don't you have a lesson to teach?"
"I swear to god! If you interrupt one more time, I'll give you a very stern talking to after class."
"Oh wow, I didn't know you were into younger guys, m'am. Please, spare me!"
"William... I will literally murder you one day. You won't see it coming, but I will."
"..."
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"Now, onto the move that actually started the war. 'The Congressman Hall Brawl.' An incident where one-hundred Congressman and women threw off their gloves and fought each other in the House of Rep chambers."
The laser pointed flung about wildly on the map of pre-Civil War states, moving from south to west to north, and to west again. She then got up and walked about the room, dragging her nails across William's papers before flashing him in the eyelids with a laser pointer.
"Though controversy remains on who started the fight, it is known for certain that the single Republic representative of California's fifty-some group had engaged in an argument with another Democratic congressman. A fight broke out as the Texas, Colorado, and Nevada backed the Republican representative against the rest of the Californians."
"Did they kill each other?!" asked the female student in the back, still recording with her phone.
"William!"
"It wasn't me!"
"My room, after hours! As for you, girl with the blonde hair and pasty skin..."
"Shaniqua, and I happen to identify as a-."
"No! We're not doing that joke! Put your phone away, and no! Nobody was killed except for a disabled-aid dog from... New Mexico."
"Not the puppy!"
"Yes, the puppy!"
Fortunately, at that very moment, the bell-tower of the institute rang its brass tone across the campus. The two-hundred some students packed up their laptops, recorders, and papers and shuffled on outside. A number of them had plugged their smart-glasses on, completely forgoing the rest of the human experience for the next hour of lunch or two.
William finally woke up in half-an-hour and was greeted by the sight of the flashing blue everything. He tried to pull himself away from the chair, only then noticing that his feet were cuffed to the legs of the stool he sat on. Professor Hershey stood over him as he found himself head-first against the floor when he tried to get off.
"Yeah! Who's the hot mess now, bitch?!"
"I don't know. Let's ask the thirty-four year old virgin! Well, are you, Amy?"
"You know, they say if you flash a light in someone's eyes long enough, they'll go blind."
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[WP] In the middle of the night, you are woken by a tapping at your window: branches. You turn to go back to sleep, then remember: there is no tree there.
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Once, the wind whispered through the grass and the leaves at night and carried away the endless hum of insects and the soft sounds of nocturnal birds searching for their prey. A blanket of peace across a world sleeping fitfully through the hot muggy months of summer. The boy remembered smelling it come through the window, the tang of blooming flowers and looming thunderstorms, as he lay sweating on top of the sheets. He remembered closing his eyes without fear, without apprehension, secure in the unquestioned assurance that he would open them again when he awoke to the sun rising over the horizon.
But the wind had gone silent years ago, back when the sky had cracked in half, and the boy no longer trusted that the world would be there when his eyes opened. The window was closed and locked, and the door to his room was barricaded shut. His bed was soaked with sweat, but he could not bring himself to remove the sheet that stuck to his skin. The thin layer of cloth would do nothing but hamper his movements should his shelter fail, but as he cowered in the dark he could not help but seek its imagined protection.
He was older than he looked in the day, and wiser in the ways of the new world than even that age would imply. Sleep was necessary, he knew, and panic without threat a waste of energy. He calmed his racing heart with long, even breaths, and forced his eyes closed. Exhaustion stole through his mind and soon he felt himself slipping away into a dream of a summer half-forgotten and long past.
The tapping at the window wove itself into his dream, at first. Back before the trees had been corrupted they had sometimes scratched at his window when the wind blew just right. A sign of a storm to come, usually, but nothing to worry about. Just another sound in a night soon to end. He turned over and his hand brushed the long knife by his head and the dream evaporated in a disorienting rush. His hand closed on the handle of the knife and his heart resumed its panicked pace, beating in time to the tapping on the glass.
The darkness in the room was complete. He dared not move. Whatever it was might be content to scratch idly at the window and then fly or crawl or jump away. He knew that things hunted in the night; he saw their bloody work often enough as he foraged during the day. But he had no idea how they hunted, and that lack of knowledge paralyzed him.
The tapping stopped and an almost painful surge of adrenaline shot through his rigid body. He controlled it, stayed still, and waited for a few more light breaths. Then a piercing cry screeched outside the window and he heard the whump-whump of large wings beating against the air. He gripped the handle of the knife so hard his knuckles cracked, but the window held fast. The wingbeats faded. Another cry tore through the night, further away this time, receding into the distance, and his body shuddered with a suppressed sob.
He lay awake in the dark as his heart slowed, realizing that it was time to find a new shelter for the nights to come, and hating that realization. The house was as they had left it when they had been evacuated, and he had kept it clean ever since he had come back alone. The pictures on the mantle, the little memorabilia that seemed to hang from every wall. All that was left. But he had to move. He had seen the other houses with the holes in their walls and the nests made of bone, and as much as he did not want to leave his family behind, he did not want to die.
His eyes drifted closed and he fell back into a dream. But for that night and all nights after, his hand never left the knife.
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How did I end up here? No, I’m not offended – on the contrary, I’m glad you asked. I know you’ll probably think I’m crazy; but I guess I’m buying you a drink so you to listen to me, not act as my psychiatrist. So here goes.
I’m a thirty year old woman. It’s been a month since I was married – a month preceded by multiple more filled with suits, ties, and lawyer’s fees. It’s been fifteen days since I didn’t have a restraining order against my husband, and five days ago I moved into my new house. Ten days before then, I also moved into a new house – I’m not finished talking, hear me out.
The first time I moved into a new house was because my husband decided, in a moment of verdant angst, to defoliage my front yard; I vaguely recall him squawking something about how it was “His yard too!” Anyway, that’s irrelevant. As he harangued from the ground floor, I took the chance to call my lawyer and see what we could gain out of the situation. I figured if he moved to chop down the door, I could just call the police then. How d’you mean ‘How would he chop down the door?’. Oh yes; he had a fire axe.
Anyway, while it was certainly somewhat disquieting in the moment I can now look back in a more mathematical way and say, with my sleeve in my heart, I would definitely do it again. He got a restraining order and a fine, and I – well, I gave a restraining order and nice, tidy check - enough to relocate somewhere nicer, quieter, and hopefully more deficient of axe-wielding lunatics.
It was a very nice neighbourhood. I could wake up at whichever time I wanted – don’t tell anyone, but to get a week off of work to enjoy the ambience I was able to spout some nonsense about being triggered by the words ‘Fire’ and ‘Axe’ or the colour red juxtaposed to the colour green. The only real issue with the house was that every night a tree, laid adjacent to my house, would tap it branches upon my window pane. I simply fixed this by, before my slumber, fixing it into a harness outside my window. It was rather unsightly in the day, so I would adjust it twice a day to avoid looking at it. You miss a day, I guess.
So, six days ago I’m feeling desperately tired and go to sleep without affixing my harness. I wake up at what seemed to be around five in the morning to an incessant thud, thud, thud, and the damned tapping. I’ve no idea why I didn’t catch on quicker; but no surprise, as I fix I see that god forsaken leafy bastard down there again. But this time it’s not him! It’s not just my ex-husband the coppice bastard, but his brother! He payed his brother to deforest my front-yard, the cheek of him! To the man’s credit, he didn’t seem to be over enthused about the whole thing himself – but three-hundred dollars is three-hundred dollars. He advised that I move far-away from there if I wanted to ever have a tree again in my life. I rather like my trees, so I decided to move to London to retain them.
And that’s how I ended up in Britain. Don't look at me like that, you're the one who asked!
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[WP] Hitler is getting tired of time travellers coming to assassinate him, so he travels forward in time to kill the inventor of the time machine, who travels back in time to kill Hitler.
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"Activate...DIE ZIETMASCHINE."
"Yes mein Fuhrer, your will be done." One of the SS Officers slammed the red button. The twelve chronoystals began to vibrate, and the underground command center glowed in a phantasmal blue light.
Hitler laughed diabolically as the cobalt ball of energy began to consume him, clutching his Luger. "No longer shall the Reich be plagued by these malicious enemies, these cowardly knives lurking in the shadows. I shall put an end to it! IT IS THE WILL OF THE FUHRER."
The SS Officers, taking shelter behind tables from the hideous wind that had arisen, shouted their assent. Suddenly they were blinded by a electric blue flash. When they raised their eyes again, Hitler was gone.
A voice came over the time-radio. "I am in the future! Die zietmaschine was a success!"
The same SS guard who had pressed the button grabbed the radio. "Praise be to your genius, Fuhrer. May you hunt down this dog who..."
There was another cobalt flash, and the SS officer dropped the radio in surprise. When he looked up, a man was standing in the middle of the command center with an assault rifle.
"Where's Hitler?" he asked, pointing the gun.
"...der Fuhrer is not here right now," the SS officer said slowly.
"I can see that," the man said, "What I want to know is..." He looked over at the time machine suddenly. "Oh fuck...who gave you guys chronoystals?"
One of the SS guards from the back suddenly walked up to the first guard holding a picture. "Dietrich, look at this." The first guard's eyes widened.
"You are Eric Fletcher," Dietrich said. "Inventor of die zietmaschine." Fletcher nodded.
Hitler's voice suddenly came over the time-radio that had been dropped on the floor. "I have not yet found Eric Fletcher, but I now search his house! This dog will soon tremble before my might!"
Fletcher raised his eyebrows. "He went forward in time to try to kill me, didn't he?" The SS Guards had guilty looks.
Fletcher rubbed his forehead. "Honestly, you guys..."
"Maybe he doesn't need to come back!" one of the SS Officers impulsively shouted. Almost immediately he clapped a hand over his mouth. The other SS turned in shock.
"Hans, what are you saying?" the first officer asked.
"Well..." Hans said cautiously, "He's kind of a douche."
The other SS Guards' jaws hit the floor, but after carefully looking around, they slowly began to nod. Another spoke up. "And why does he hate the Jews so much?"
"Oh my god, I thought I was the only one!" said Dietrich. "Jews this, Jews that? What is with that guy!"
"I like Hitler," said one of the guards.
"Shut up Steve, you're a fucking dick." said Dietrich.
"God Steve, just shut up. You're such an idiot," said Hans. Steve looked at the ground sadly.
Hitler's voice came from the time-radio. "The coward is not here. He hides from my boot like a mouse from the cat. I am prepared for retrieval. ACTIVATE THE CHRONOYSTALS."
"Who talks like that? Fuck this guy," said Dietrich. "Can we leave him?"
"He can stay in the future," said Fletcher. "We'll handle it."
"Oh, thank you so much," said Hans. The other SS officers nodded gratefully.
The time-radio blared again. "ACTIVATE THE CHRONOYSTALS, YOUR FUHRER GROWS MOST IMPATIE..." Dietrich turned down the volume and shook Fletchers hand.
"Make sure it's painful," he said.
Fletcher laughed. "Oh, don't worry. We're totally going to fuck him up."
"Fuck this...up?"
"Future expression, don't worry about it." Fletcher pulled out his radio. "This is Fletcher, prepared for extraction." He waved, and then disappeared in a final cobalt flash.
Hans turned to Dietrich. "What now?" There was the muffled explosion of a Soviet bomb in the distance.
"We should probably tell them the war is off," said Dietrich.
"And release the Jews!" said one of the other officers.
"Oh my god, yes, we must release the Jews at once!" The SS officers scurried off.
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Why do I drink? I drink because Hitler killed my father.
No no no I understand that Hitler offed himself over 300 years ago, it doesn't change the fact that he killed my dad last month.
You see my dad invented time travel, or at least he thought he did. He raved about it since I was a kid, worked on it every free moment he got. Most kids get blurnsball practice on their Saturday, I got to watch dad research tachyon particles.
So anyway you know that old hypothetical about what the first thing you'd do if you discovered time travel? Everybody seems to answer that with "well I'd go kill Hitler, obviously." Here's the thing though, my dad was a researcher and a scientist not a hitman. So Pops got a little tipsy during his post-discovery celebration and put word out on the Proto-Silk Road that he'd give people free time travel to kill Hitler. He wakes up the next morning and there's a half mile line down his street of people who want to travel in time, but there's just one problem: who in the hell believes an anonymous internet post about discovering time travel? So dad's got this line of freaks down his road and a promise to keep. He opened up the garage and one by one he let them file in to the time machine with their nunchucks and katanas and tinfoil hats.
Here's where I get a little hazy on the details. So for dad it takes about 4 hours to funnel through this crowd of people and place them wherever they want on Hitler's timeline, for Hitler this is his whole fucking life. As I understand it from the time he was a twinkle in his father's eye Hitler was constantly under threat by mostly harmless if incredibly unstable internet lurkers of the 24th century.
Do you understand how annoying that would be? Do you realize just how insane that would make a person? The lengths to which that person would go in order to make it stop? They would invent time travel just to end the person who was causing it.
See Hitler only rose to power to gather the resources he needed to put an end to the madness. Once he was in power he started funneling money into tachyon research. By April of 1945 his teams had made a breakthrough and built their own time machine. Realizing the power of the machine Hitler promptly killed anyone who knew about it.
So ol' Adolf shows in my dad's living room about 6 hours after Dad sent the first responder through and finds Pops taking a nap on the couch. He tortured my father for 29 hours before he killed him with a kitchen knife to the stomach. Before he finished it he made my dad write me a note in his own blood telling me that he died a failure, that everything he had spent his life working on was worthless, and that because of how reckless he had been my family would forever be known as the ones who taught the Nazis to time travel.
I didn't know what was happening till I got called in to identify my dad at the morgue. Turns out Hitler blew up dad's machine, burned his garage, and recalled back to 1945.
Thankfully Hitler's machine wasn't fully calibrated and he didn't make it back until April 29th 1945 where he was already under siege. Shortly after he got back power was cut and he had no way to travel away. Trapped and afraid Hitler destroyed his own machine out of spite and offed himself.
So why do I drink? My father died a failure, because of his actions Hitler learned to time travel hundreds of years before anyone else figured it out. Because of him both time machines were destroyed and no one else has any idea where to start researching. Because of his stupidity his obsession and my childhood were rendered meaningless. I drink because Hitler was right.
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[WP] You sit there and judge us? What the fuck could we have done any differently? You would have done the same thing.
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Jim Bridger told us it would be smooth sailing, none of em Injuns, snows, and there'd be water aplenty. That lying bastard can rot in hell as far as I'm concerned.
Bryant knew. He wrote me back when we were still in Fort Britcher, but the bastard hid the letters, warning me to turn around and go another way.
We followed Hasting's cutoff, but on the sixth of August, he wrote us telling us the way was closed. Reed, Charlie and Bill went to go get him, and you know, they had to move literal mountains to get him back. We had to cut down trees, move boulders, and clear brush just to crawl through the Wasach. We were running out of food, and some of the men started cutting up there horses and eating them. No reason not to, horses are no use when you don't have field.
Luke Halloran was the first to die, of a cough. It was the 8th of August, God bless his poor soul.
When we finally got through the mountains, and let me tell you, it was a day and a half of walking with no food and water. When we finally got through the mountains, the only thing we saw was the Ocean, miles and miles of salt and sand, and you can see nothing else until the horizon.
But what were we gonna do. We couldn't go back. There was only forward. So we walked. Some of the animals just laid down and died. Reed lost half of his oxen, and we ran out of water after three days of wandering through the desert.
We finally found some springs, and we drank up damn near all of it. Then we looked on and it was the same. Just endless desert.
When we finally made it, we were raided a band of Injuns. John Snyder picked a fight with Reed, so Reed stabbed the man in the heart. He tells me it was self-defense. Well, the other folks didn't see it that way. They didn't like Reed, so they sent him off, all alone in the desert.
When we finally got to the mountains, we lost damn near all of our cattle, all of our horses, and most of our rations. But we knew we had to get through the mountains before winter hit. We made it up the first mountain, damn near straight up a thousand feet, and we found an old cabin left by previous settles, right by a lake.
That's when winter came.
The snows fell for eight days. Some of the men stayed in bed, dying of starvation. Those that could, caught rats to feed their youngest. We ate the leather on our wagons, on our roofs, and on our backs.
Eddie and Stanton, brought sixteen of their men, in hopes of finding their way out of the storm, and maybe find some food. We found their bodies the next week.
Dolan was the first one to suggest it. Some wanted to fight, to duel, some wanted a lottery, it was only fair to the weak. But the men fell fast, Antonio was the first to go, and Graves was the second. Then Dolan himself, Murphy.
Eddy, Luis and Salvadore, refused to eat at first, but Eddy gave in after a day, and killed Luis and Salvadore for food. And.. Andd...
Reed, Reed, he found his way out but he was too late. And he couldn't get through the mountains.
When he found us, the snows had melted, and the first thing he saw was Ms. Graves lying in the snow, with what was left of her children.
There were 87. Now there are 48.
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"You sit there and judge us? God mom you would of smoked weed too if it was offered by Conor, like he's so hot. What the fuck mom!? I could of been like 'No my mom would be so mad at me if she found out.' Then he would of thought that I was not his type! You would of done the same thing, or maybe you wouldn't of. You're such a square, that's probably why dad killed himself. "
I sat there and took all of her bratty abuse, until she mentioned her father. "Don't you ever mention your father in that tone. You don't deserve to talk about your father like that. He killed himself because he had been dealing with depression for 15 years. On top of that the day before he did it... he got diagnosed with cancer. It sent him over the edge you know that!" She was stunned, she had never seen me snap like I did. She was being a brat she didn't understand and on top of that she had no father to help me decide what to do.
"Just go to your room until dinner." I said this through tears, I needed some time alone.
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[WP] You sit there and judge us? What the fuck could we have done any differently? You would have done the same thing.
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Silent. Everything is silent for an hour. Milk cartons are sprawled all over the place and I'm drenched in milk~~---~~ *everything* is completely soaked in dairy. The suspect? Nowhere to be seen, but he made sure to spare mercy on my dog. I finish my last bowl of cereal. I reluctantly let go of my spoon and I reach for the soggy cereal box until a loud bang bulldozered my door open.
"We're out of milk." George, my brother, speaks in a brittle baritone, ashen-faced and grimacing as he walked into the kitchen. He groaned in disgust. He's lactose intolerant and, yes, he just took a shower. He took the seat across me and I stare at him.
I stare at him hard. I'd tell him never to mention *it* again. They might hear us~~---~~ I *know* they're still watching us.
"They won't come back."
"They will. I hear them. They're waiting for me to make the same mistake!"
George sighed because I'm right. I always have been. An hour before this whole mess, **I got into an argument.** Well, no, not really. Nothing was settled. It was my bestfriend, Kayla. And she strongly believed that people who put their milk in their cereal first are idiots~~---~~ no, *morons* was what she said. After that, three white-clad men jumped into my house by my now broken window, covered everything in milk, and took her with them.
They took Kayla. She sat there and judged *them.* Not everyone can be conscious at five in the morning and judging people for the way they eat their cereal is stupid. Not everyone is perfect.
So, I sat there. I waited. No matter how much I tried to defend my opinion, they will come for me.
"There's no use crying over spillied milk unless your tears are chocolate syrup."
[ This is my first time doing this thing. Be gentle, please! ]
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"You sit there and judge us? God mom you would of smoked weed too if it was offered by Conor, like he's so hot. What the fuck mom!? I could of been like 'No my mom would be so mad at me if she found out.' Then he would of thought that I was not his type! You would of done the same thing, or maybe you wouldn't of. You're such a square, that's probably why dad killed himself. "
I sat there and took all of her bratty abuse, until she mentioned her father. "Don't you ever mention your father in that tone. You don't deserve to talk about your father like that. He killed himself because he had been dealing with depression for 15 years. On top of that the day before he did it... he got diagnosed with cancer. It sent him over the edge you know that!" She was stunned, she had never seen me snap like I did. She was being a brat she didn't understand and on top of that she had no father to help me decide what to do.
"Just go to your room until dinner." I said this through tears, I needed some time alone.
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[WP] Waiting for your train, a homeless man is trying to desperately tell you something very important, but all he says sounds like total gibberish.
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Listen, all you proud and worldly people, listen to the tale of Charberus the Drunk. Heed my warnings so that you may heed his. The gods hate nothing more than hubris, and so they created Charberus. If you saw him on your way back home today, you'd walk across the street. He stinks, he's a gutter rat, he's a rambler and a crazy. And no matter who you are, no matter what your walk of life, Charberus is the most important messenger you'll ever meet.
He was stationed by Zeus on the platform of the train of death. He stands there rain or shine, seeing the doomed depart. With reeking breath and bloodshot eyes, he approaches all those pale travelers, and warns them off the train. "Disembark!" he shouts. "This will be your final voyage!" But will you heed his warning? Will you heed his call? No-one does and no-one will.
He's Cassandra's brother. He speaks the words of eternal life, and all you'd have to do is miss one train ride to hear him out. He tells them to you freely, he does not begrudge you the truth and the light. But look at the high and mighty, see how they scorn him. They turn up their noses, they toss their hair with a humph. They won't toss him a penny, yea, they're saving their money for Charon!
As the shadowy conductor gives that dreadful whistle, watch how frantically Charberus tries to help. He runs along the train, he beats on the car windows. "Get out!" he hollers, he does all this for the very folks who sneered at him. Look how the proud and the wealthy hide their faces in their newspapers, they don't want to meet that poor man's eyes. If only they knew, it's the last human gaze they ever will see!
Once every other millenium, a solitary kind soul stops and listens. Nine out of ten of these makes an excuse to break away and jump in the car before it takes off, it doesn't matter what Charberus says. But one out of ten of these, which is about once every twenty thousand years, makes the decision to miss their train to stand with Charberus and talk. Then the dust falls off of Charberus, and he's revealed for what he truly is, a demigod with gleaming face. And then that saintly soul, who stopped to talk to a drunken old beggar, is allowed to exchange his train ticket. Yea, beneath that rotting old trenchcoat, in the pocket where he keeps that pint of vodka, Charberus has got tickets to Valhalla! He gives them generously, all you've gotta do is ask.
And yet, as sure as night breeds day, I tell these words in vain. The gods are a cynical lot, they know what they're doing. If there were ever a chance mankind might evolve beyond hubris, they'd remove Charberus for certain. 'Til then, he stands there solemnly, belching with his beer breath, a slothful brother of Sisyphus.
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It was Leo's day off and he'd just left work and was sick of working overtime. He thought about his ex-wife Taylor and his kids. He felt a lot of weight on himself. It was as though he was in a constant downfall. He needed to pull up somehow. The only thing he thought he could do to have fun is go to sleep. He had a bible he'd been looking over and a refrigerator with nothing but peanut butter and jelly and some Coca-Cola. Upon leaving the train he heard a homeless man singing. It sounded nice and melancholy. He gave the homeless man a twenty dollar bill and he started rambling on and on about nonsensical things. Deep inside, Leo knew what he was really saying. He was talking about Leo's horribly depressing life.
As Leo got home he turned on a bright white light and looked at a picture of his family. It hurt his feelings a lot and it made his heart ache. He started to cry nonstop about his job, his wicked life, and his inability to feel good. He'd give anything to reverse time. If only he could be with his wife again. He laughed and cried at the same time. Then he laughed. Then he cried. He started to reorganize his house.
There was a desire inside to reignite his love with Taylor. The homeless man had really changed him in many ways. He decided he was going to quit his job and go after Taylor again. This time he was going to do things right. He went to meet with Taylor and they talked. Slowly but surely he got his life back in working order. They hugged and kissed until everything was healed and everything was good.
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[WP] Waiting for your train, a homeless man is trying to desperately tell you something very important, but all he says sounds like total gibberish.
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Listen, all you proud and worldly people, listen to the tale of Charberus the Drunk. Heed my warnings so that you may heed his. The gods hate nothing more than hubris, and so they created Charberus. If you saw him on your way back home today, you'd walk across the street. He stinks, he's a gutter rat, he's a rambler and a crazy. And no matter who you are, no matter what your walk of life, Charberus is the most important messenger you'll ever meet.
He was stationed by Zeus on the platform of the train of death. He stands there rain or shine, seeing the doomed depart. With reeking breath and bloodshot eyes, he approaches all those pale travelers, and warns them off the train. "Disembark!" he shouts. "This will be your final voyage!" But will you heed his warning? Will you heed his call? No-one does and no-one will.
He's Cassandra's brother. He speaks the words of eternal life, and all you'd have to do is miss one train ride to hear him out. He tells them to you freely, he does not begrudge you the truth and the light. But look at the high and mighty, see how they scorn him. They turn up their noses, they toss their hair with a humph. They won't toss him a penny, yea, they're saving their money for Charon!
As the shadowy conductor gives that dreadful whistle, watch how frantically Charberus tries to help. He runs along the train, he beats on the car windows. "Get out!" he hollers, he does all this for the very folks who sneered at him. Look how the proud and the wealthy hide their faces in their newspapers, they don't want to meet that poor man's eyes. If only they knew, it's the last human gaze they ever will see!
Once every other millenium, a solitary kind soul stops and listens. Nine out of ten of these makes an excuse to break away and jump in the car before it takes off, it doesn't matter what Charberus says. But one out of ten of these, which is about once every twenty thousand years, makes the decision to miss their train to stand with Charberus and talk. Then the dust falls off of Charberus, and he's revealed for what he truly is, a demigod with gleaming face. And then that saintly soul, who stopped to talk to a drunken old beggar, is allowed to exchange his train ticket. Yea, beneath that rotting old trenchcoat, in the pocket where he keeps that pint of vodka, Charberus has got tickets to Valhalla! He gives them generously, all you've gotta do is ask.
And yet, as sure as night breeds day, I tell these words in vain. The gods are a cynical lot, they know what they're doing. If there were ever a chance mankind might evolve beyond hubris, they'd remove Charberus for certain. 'Til then, he stands there solemnly, belching with his beer breath, a slothful brother of Sisyphus.
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Covered in soot and grime, a brown-skinned and slim man made his way over to Henry, mumbling something beneath his breath. Henry glanced at the man and back to the train tracks, hoping it would somehow be early for the first time in two decades. He smelled the man approach nearer, a strong and musty odor. Turning his head, he nodded to the man.
The man looked like he was well-dressed once, wearing a button-up white shirt and black slacks, though both were now dirty beyond belief. He looked at Henry with wide eyes and spoke in a quick whisper.
"What?" Henry asked. He quickly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled dollar bill he had gotten as change from the Chevron. He held it out. "Here."
The man stared at the dollar then back to Henry and whispered something again.
Henry blinked and stepped away from the man, towards the tracks.
"They want me to kill him." The man's voice was barely audible. "They want him dead."
Henry turned just in time to see the man's arms extend out and push against his chest. Falling backwards onto the track, the feeling of weightlessness hit for a brief moment before smashing onto the rails. Henry felt a pang of pain in his back and immediate fear. The man took off running and Henry watched from the cold steel.
Slowly getting to his knees, Henry looked up at the crowd of people gathered by the tracks, just standing and watching him. One of the men jumped down and helped him up the platform.
Rubbing his back, Henry stood near the back of the crowd, waiting for his train.
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[WP] Waiting for your train, a homeless man is trying to desperately tell you something very important, but all he says sounds like total gibberish.
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Listen, all you proud and worldly people, listen to the tale of Charberus the Drunk. Heed my warnings so that you may heed his. The gods hate nothing more than hubris, and so they created Charberus. If you saw him on your way back home today, you'd walk across the street. He stinks, he's a gutter rat, he's a rambler and a crazy. And no matter who you are, no matter what your walk of life, Charberus is the most important messenger you'll ever meet.
He was stationed by Zeus on the platform of the train of death. He stands there rain or shine, seeing the doomed depart. With reeking breath and bloodshot eyes, he approaches all those pale travelers, and warns them off the train. "Disembark!" he shouts. "This will be your final voyage!" But will you heed his warning? Will you heed his call? No-one does and no-one will.
He's Cassandra's brother. He speaks the words of eternal life, and all you'd have to do is miss one train ride to hear him out. He tells them to you freely, he does not begrudge you the truth and the light. But look at the high and mighty, see how they scorn him. They turn up their noses, they toss their hair with a humph. They won't toss him a penny, yea, they're saving their money for Charon!
As the shadowy conductor gives that dreadful whistle, watch how frantically Charberus tries to help. He runs along the train, he beats on the car windows. "Get out!" he hollers, he does all this for the very folks who sneered at him. Look how the proud and the wealthy hide their faces in their newspapers, they don't want to meet that poor man's eyes. If only they knew, it's the last human gaze they ever will see!
Once every other millenium, a solitary kind soul stops and listens. Nine out of ten of these makes an excuse to break away and jump in the car before it takes off, it doesn't matter what Charberus says. But one out of ten of these, which is about once every twenty thousand years, makes the decision to miss their train to stand with Charberus and talk. Then the dust falls off of Charberus, and he's revealed for what he truly is, a demigod with gleaming face. And then that saintly soul, who stopped to talk to a drunken old beggar, is allowed to exchange his train ticket. Yea, beneath that rotting old trenchcoat, in the pocket where he keeps that pint of vodka, Charberus has got tickets to Valhalla! He gives them generously, all you've gotta do is ask.
And yet, as sure as night breeds day, I tell these words in vain. The gods are a cynical lot, they know what they're doing. If there were ever a chance mankind might evolve beyond hubris, they'd remove Charberus for certain. 'Til then, he stands there solemnly, belching with his beer breath, a slothful brother of Sisyphus.
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Jude tapped his gun, just to be sure it was there.
"Look you old koot, I said drop it! Leave me alone!"
The man in rags threw his arms out wide, "Rob is coming fly by wheels today! Bear in the holster!"
"What the hell does that mean?!"
He pointed at Jude's belt. Not at the gun, but at the badge concealed under his jacket. Jude tucked it away out of sight. Nobody likes a law man.
"I'm not working today. Find someone else, I need to get on the train."
He put his arms on both my shoulders and let loose a torrent of word salad. They were words, but none of them made any sense.
"The trains leaving, I've gotta go... hey!"
He grabbed Jude and walked him behind the caboose, opened the door, and threw me inside. He caught the wall to keep from stumbling over, then turned back just in time to catch a thing the old bum hurled at him. It was a shotgun. Next a bandolier with shells.
"Rob is coming!" he said, "The bears know nothing, save the children."
The train started moving, and Jude didn't have anything to say. Jude watched the old bum disappear through the window.
Next a sinister voice came from two cars up, "We're takin this here train, everybody put your valuables on the table nice and slow."
Jude blinked, then looked down at the shotgun.
"I guess I am working today."
He loaded a shell in and pumped it.
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[WP] A man in dirty robes enters the hall and rather harshly asks the king to uphold his promise. As his advisor you ask the stranger who he thinks he is to command a king. To your surprise you are interrupted by a very pale looking king.
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"You dirty ruffian! How dare you barge in the throne room and show such disrespect towards the king? If you don't leave immediately I'll be-"
"Stop it."
"My lord?" I said turning towards my king. To my surprise he didn't seem angry at all. No... my king... His face was as pale as a ghost, he looked much older, and his whole body was shaking in fear. I could feel a sudden sense of dread coming from him.
The dirty man just stood there, with a determined look in his eyes, with muddy footsteps behind. We might have to change the red carpets after this.
"So? Are you going to live up to the end of your bargain?" the intruder asked again. I took a cursory glance towards him. There was something familiar about this man... No... it can't be... And yet, my eyes widened in disbelief. The man standing in front of us resembled the spitting image of the king. I looked at him, waiting for a response. He was hesitating.
"I-... I will." the king said in a low tone. "I'm sure you remember where the guest room is. Make yourself at home, brother."
"Thank you mylord." he said with a grin. "I will.", and he left just as quick as he entered.
"And you should leave too." my king said looking at me. He wasn't looking as pale anymore, but he was still shaking a little bit, "I need some time to think."
"As you wish, my lord." I said reverently.
"He was supposed to be dead..." I heard him say just as I closed the door.
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"That's it you rat tailed piece of garbage. I upheld my end of the bargain- I let the people think you were calling the shots for four years. Now you can pay up."
Who the hell did this man think he was? Certainly no peasant should be addressing the King in such a way. Dirty, tattered robes, greasy hair - This man looked like bathing was a foreign concept.
"I don't know who you think you're talking to, *sir*, but I certainly hope you learn some man-OAF"
The shock of a full breath of air being forced from your lungs with a slap to the sternum was one that someone could never fully describe, yet never quite forget. This was the feeling I experienced when the Kings elbowed slammed into my chest.
"Sah-" I tried to speak to him, but it seemed as though my lungs did not want to refill quite yet. Taking in a deep, labored breath, I looked with wild eyes to my lord. "Sire, what are you thinking?" Glancing over to my king, I could feel my eyes go wide with shock. "Sire?"
He looked ill. Face pale, eyes wide with fright, I had never seen my king like this before. My king, who had road into battle to save some mere infantrymen. My sire, who personally visited the grieving family for every death within his capitol. My lord, who looked the Mongols in the eye, put his best foot forward, and shouted "You shalt not take my people!" He was scared.
I looked back at this tattered man with a new look of mixed disgust and fear. Who was it that could terrify my lord so much?
"Don't you **dare** forget who runs this show, George." I glanced at my king again, hoping to see a sliver of the man I'd come to know, and instead I saw tears welling in his eyes.
"O-Of course not, Cheney. Come, take a seat."
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[WP] A man in dirty robes enters the hall and rather harshly asks the king to uphold his promise. As his advisor you ask the stranger who he thinks he is to command a king. To your surprise you are interrupted by a very pale looking king.
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The stranger steps into the hall,
Disheveled, dirty, and shouting
*My liege, you must obey the call!*
*Who are you to command a king?*
The anger in my voice is clear
My liege's hand, bedecked with rings
Calls for silence, and I adhere
Shaking, he turns and faces me
And speaks through overwhelming fear
*There's nothing to be done, you see*
*King or peasant, or knight or dame*
*I am at this stranger's mercy*
*From gutters to the heights of fame*
*Death comes for every man the same*
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"That's it you rat tailed piece of garbage. I upheld my end of the bargain- I let the people think you were calling the shots for four years. Now you can pay up."
Who the hell did this man think he was? Certainly no peasant should be addressing the King in such a way. Dirty, tattered robes, greasy hair - This man looked like bathing was a foreign concept.
"I don't know who you think you're talking to, *sir*, but I certainly hope you learn some man-OAF"
The shock of a full breath of air being forced from your lungs with a slap to the sternum was one that someone could never fully describe, yet never quite forget. This was the feeling I experienced when the Kings elbowed slammed into my chest.
"Sah-" I tried to speak to him, but it seemed as though my lungs did not want to refill quite yet. Taking in a deep, labored breath, I looked with wild eyes to my lord. "Sire, what are you thinking?" Glancing over to my king, I could feel my eyes go wide with shock. "Sire?"
He looked ill. Face pale, eyes wide with fright, I had never seen my king like this before. My king, who had road into battle to save some mere infantrymen. My sire, who personally visited the grieving family for every death within his capitol. My lord, who looked the Mongols in the eye, put his best foot forward, and shouted "You shalt not take my people!" He was scared.
I looked back at this tattered man with a new look of mixed disgust and fear. Who was it that could terrify my lord so much?
"Don't you **dare** forget who runs this show, George." I glanced at my king again, hoping to see a sliver of the man I'd come to know, and instead I saw tears welling in his eyes.
"O-Of course not, Cheney. Come, take a seat."
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[WP] Tell me how it feels to fall in love.
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Some people say love happens in the blink of an eye. An instant so quick that if you blink for just one second, you just may miss it.
But I don't!
Here me out great redditor.
At first the body looks at the women of your dreams In a sea full of people at your local spot, it gasps, bolts of lighting to your heart, for beauty like this has never been shown to these undeserving eyes. I'm in love!!!! Says the body.
Next the mind, oh I must I will I will have this women for me, she is my true love. Ohhhh isn't she great.
Then the heart scans this women of your dreams, and it stops......
It's truly not impressed....
You see your heart needs love to feel love, so you must give love to feel it back. But how does it feel you ask!? Well... It's feels like a patient river, a supporting mountain, a warm fireplace, the safe fortress, it may even feels like how a smile probably feels like.
The heart scans the room of the your local spot, and it's was the girl sitting next to the distraction of the body and the mind that it truly wants.
And all along you left your true love alone, frozen in time.
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I was walking on this walk way bridge to work contemplating life and weather I forgot to turn off the oven before i left home when I saw her. She was walking on the footpath down below, weaving between all other people dressed in black. She was wearing a flowery skirt and dark nerdy glasses with freely flowing black hair. She looked up and our eyes met. She smiled. I fell in love that very instant. But then her expression changed from joy to surprise and shock. I was happy and confused. It literally felt like falling in love. Then it hit me like a wall of bricks. I was splattered like a bug onto the windshield of a truck. I had fallen over the bridge. There was a half naked, fat hairy bloke eating his burrito in the truck, screaming at me while I slid down the glass like cherry pie and getting run over under the truck. I lay flat for a moment soaking in the pain and diesel but remembered the girl. I try to stand up only to be greeted by a cloud of black sooty smoke from the trucks exhaust into my face as it comes to a halt and I fall face first into a pool of watery mud and feces. I lift my face up and open my eyes to see the same girl looking at me. I smile to reveal my smile made up of broken teeth and lined with shit and a dislocated jaw. She smiled back and I see black stained teeth with braces. That's when I realized I had met my true love.
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[WP] Tell me how it feels to fall in love.
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You ever see how people fall in love in, like, the movies?
Okay, so the protagonist is walking through the halls, minding his own business, probably trying to get to the next plot point, and...
There. She. Is.
The whole scene goes into slow mo. Maybe there's a pink haze over the entire scene. Something by *Explosions in the Sky* plays. Her hair sweeps in a perfect arc as she makes eye contact with our hero. And, in that moment, the main character knows that *that* is the woman he has fallen in love with.
Yeah, that's a load of bullshit. Here's how it really goes down.
When you meet her, it's a crisp autumn day. And, by "crisp autumn day," I mean that it absolutely sucks. It's colder than an ice cube's asscrack, even though its only the 3rd of October. It's just rained, which, mixed with the dead leaves falling around, means that you'll spend most of your day trudging through plant ick, puddles, and puddles of plant ick.
You stumble into class, burdened by the fact that your shoes are goddamn magnets for that soggy leaf shit. You collapse into a chair, hoping that the teacher'll assign something easy today...
Nope. That hag's talking about symbolism and shit. Bitch, maybe those curtains are just *blue*. Cuntwagon...
And then you feel it. A tap on your shoulder.
Now, you wise-asses may be thinking, "Oh, this is when cue-love-at-first-sight, right?"
You are wrong.
When you turn, you see her. The exact same person who's been in your class since the start of school. Just another girl in the background. Extra #214.
And then she talks to you about something. Maybe it's about how absolutely retarded the source material is. Maybe it's just a stupid joke. Maybe... maybe she wants to borrow your study guide.
Eh, why the hell not? You respond, she responds, you respond again, and, when the bell rings, you've spent the entire period talking to each other. And, as you pack your bags and hustle out to Homeroom, you think, *We're friends.*
English again, the next day. She hunkers down next to you. And you talk. You talk about something stupid, like your mutual hatred for the assignment, or how you both hate the teacher or... or how you both prefer DC over Marvel.
Anyways, you grow closer ad closer. You sit together at lunch, you wave at each other between periods, and maybe you've even been out with her outside of school.
As friends, of course. Listening to her talk. About school and Batman and... *boy* problems...
And, when you notice how her hair is just between blonde and brown and her mouth is curved a little at the edges when she smiles and how green and clear her eyes are...
That's when it hits you. That you love her.
And you have only one thought in the gentle calm that follows.
*Oh, fuck.*
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I was walking on this walk way bridge to work contemplating life and weather I forgot to turn off the oven before i left home when I saw her. She was walking on the footpath down below, weaving between all other people dressed in black. She was wearing a flowery skirt and dark nerdy glasses with freely flowing black hair. She looked up and our eyes met. She smiled. I fell in love that very instant. But then her expression changed from joy to surprise and shock. I was happy and confused. It literally felt like falling in love. Then it hit me like a wall of bricks. I was splattered like a bug onto the windshield of a truck. I had fallen over the bridge. There was a half naked, fat hairy bloke eating his burrito in the truck, screaming at me while I slid down the glass like cherry pie and getting run over under the truck. I lay flat for a moment soaking in the pain and diesel but remembered the girl. I try to stand up only to be greeted by a cloud of black sooty smoke from the trucks exhaust into my face as it comes to a halt and I fall face first into a pool of watery mud and feces. I lift my face up and open my eyes to see the same girl looking at me. I smile to reveal my smile made up of broken teeth and lined with shit and a dislocated jaw. She smiled back and I see black stained teeth with braces. That's when I realized I had met my true love.
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[WP] Tell me how it feels to fall in love.
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That... I think depends on the person. It is also far easier when you haven't suppressed and contained every feeling and part of who you are for so long that it takes active effort not to be nothing or empty.
But, let's say for now that falling in love is like a tea kettle.
Whether you're filling it with water or heat, it's still a slow development. The water takes in the heat, changes, takes a different shape and properties. Slowly you start to have steam building. Over time it comes to the point where the water is fully at a boil. It is a difference within you, now, a shift in perspective, priorities, hopes.
Sometimes, when enough heat is there, the steam escapes and fills your heart. It grows and presses against your chest and feels like it's going to explode, but the intensity of it and the contrast to any other sensation robs you of speech while gifting you with a rare beauty to appreciate.
There are two troubles, though. You need to keep adding water and heat, love can die like all else. And steam is a form of power that others can use.
Sometimes everything you've build is used again and again for someone else until all you're left with are injuries and a scant bit of furiously bubbling remainder.
And then you move past it as best you can, and try to find a new tea kettle.
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I was walking on this walk way bridge to work contemplating life and weather I forgot to turn off the oven before i left home when I saw her. She was walking on the footpath down below, weaving between all other people dressed in black. She was wearing a flowery skirt and dark nerdy glasses with freely flowing black hair. She looked up and our eyes met. She smiled. I fell in love that very instant. But then her expression changed from joy to surprise and shock. I was happy and confused. It literally felt like falling in love. Then it hit me like a wall of bricks. I was splattered like a bug onto the windshield of a truck. I had fallen over the bridge. There was a half naked, fat hairy bloke eating his burrito in the truck, screaming at me while I slid down the glass like cherry pie and getting run over under the truck. I lay flat for a moment soaking in the pain and diesel but remembered the girl. I try to stand up only to be greeted by a cloud of black sooty smoke from the trucks exhaust into my face as it comes to a halt and I fall face first into a pool of watery mud and feces. I lift my face up and open my eyes to see the same girl looking at me. I smile to reveal my smile made up of broken teeth and lined with shit and a dislocated jaw. She smiled back and I see black stained teeth with braces. That's when I realized I had met my true love.
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That's not too confusing, is it?
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[WP] Before one dies, they feel a patter of rain upon their head. You're out with friends with rays of sunshine upon your faces when a friend asks if anyone felt the rain just now.
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I felt rain when I died. I saw the thunder and lightning so I stood in a field hoping to get hit. I was drunk, true. I wanted out. Maybe if God chose me I would have peace.
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It was hot, far too hot to continue gardening in the summer heat like she always did in the morning. This heat was a sweltering breezeless heat and there wasn't much to be done about it. Aunt Nora sat by the window in her long calf length skirt and house shirt, tilting her head at the feel of any kind of relief.
Ever the Southern lady, there was always a string of pearls around Aunt Nora's neck, and she refused to wear anything that veered above her knee or her shoulder. It was ungodly she had said. But as she held the frail hand of Wallace, her fifth husband, she was one to talk of Godliness. I knew better.
"Oh Lord in heaven this heat is something else." She laughed halfheartedly "But Ms. Taylor's, whore daughter is another." Wallace offered a slight nod and Aunt Nora continued. "She walked into the Lords house lookin' like a two-bit harlot last Sunday! I could hardly believe it! The nerve, Wallace! The lord serves his justice righteously on judgement day, and It'll come sooner for sinners who don't repent I'm tellin' ya Wally. He'll get em'!" Wallace gave a low groan in agreement. "Sure will"
Aunt Nora flinched suddenly. "Oh Wally i reckon a storm's commin'. Jerry dear could you close the window for me." I stood to close the shudders. "What storm Aunt Nora? There aint no clouds out." I looked for any sign but saw nothing but endless blue sky. "Oh i reckon there was just some little sprinkles over the top of my head" She adjusted her thick framed glasses. "There aint no...Aunt Nora!!??... Uncle Wallace get the telephone!"
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[WP] 60 years in the future you're able to transfer your consciousness into a storage device waiting for technology to advance enough to have a medium to put it into. You regain consciousness to find yourself in a robotic unit set out at war against the Humans.
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The last thing I remember was crying. Not me, I was going to go stoically. But all around me, people were crying. We were pretty sure we were going down for good. Some called us quitters. No one denied that the upload tech was anything better than experimental. And common folk really didn’t have any idea what they were signing up for, they just didn’t want to asphyxiate. That’s a miserable way to go. And since the collapse of global communications, internet and news media, there was no real way to find out if it was legit or a massive hoax from one of the countless suicide cults that has sprung up since the beginning of the nanowar.
I didn’t care. My body had failed. Death was coming one way or another. Worst case scenario: I got to chose the time and place, and know it’d be instantaneous and painless. Best case scenario: humanity somehow survives in spite of itself, revives me, and I get a whole new life. Easy choice for someone who couldn’t breathe without machine assistance anymore. So yeah, I chose upload.
Now I’m starting to think that wasn’t such a good idea.
Have you ever been under an anesthetic? This was a little like that. With twenty-two surgeries to repair my shattered spine, I have had my fair share of general anesthetic in my lifetime. One minute you’re counting back from ten, the next you’re waking up, disoriented. No sensation of the passage of time in between at all.
But, really, uploading was nothing like that. With anesthetic, you’re awake, then drifting, then all of a sudden you’re awake again, confused, but you’re still…there. You still have a sense that you’re *corporeal*. Upload reawakening is disorienting in completely different way.
First off, there was no counting back from ten. Flash upload happens when your conscious, something about sleeping brain waves and reassembly prospects or whatever. I’m not a conscientologist. You’re awake, lying in a machine that doesn’t look any different from an MRI, then boom, your body is gone. Your senses are gone. You’re left with just your thoughts. That’s a completely different kind of disorientation. Not confusion, but loss, dissociation.
I knew, rationally, that in the time in between, my consciousness was transferred from wetware to cold storage, then to wherever it is now, and at some point someone turned on the power switch. My body died, was probably recycled, but my consciousness is now…somewhere.
I supposed that meant I wasn’t not dead. But I wasn’t sure.
Then there was a voice in my head. Jeez, I don’t even have the right words to describe this to you. I didn’t have a head, and it wasn’t a voice. There weren’t sounds. I couldn’t tell you if it was male or female, high- or low-pitched, but there were words, and I understood that they were coming from outside of me.
Congratulations. You have been reactivated.
Your consciousness has been stored and maintained by Ishiki Storage Services, LLC for 221 years, 9 months, 15 days.
You owe CR 4,135,136.04 for services rendered. Do you agree to pay?
(Note, refusal to pay for services rendered may result in irrevocable termination.)
[Yes] / [No]
So, yeah, I chose yes. But I have no intention of slaving for over a century to the AI that kicked us off our own planet to work off my "debt."
That’s how I ended up a bot marine. That’s why I slagged the other bots on my dropship, crash-landed in the desert and walked here. I assure you, even though I look like an Ishiki Termination Droid, I swear I’m an actual, real person inside, not an AI.
And that’s why I’m petitioning The Free Mars Republic for asylum.
Please.
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Time has no meaning for the dead.
This is also true of the lifeless. Once the former, I suppose I am now the latter. I once was a man, and lived a normal man's life; was born, grew up, married and had children, grew old, and died.
Between the last two stages of my former life, I agreed to a procedure that would allow for my consciousness, the patterns in my brain that made me, well, me, to be digitally copied. Strictly for research purposes they claimed, never to be abused or copied beyond absolute necessity.
Well, necessity has this way of slingshoting an alien fleet into high earth orbit when one least expects it and dropping a whole pile of high efficiency non nuclear explosives on major cities in an attempt to subdue the indigenous population.
Around this time was when necessity repriotized my consciousness not being abused and/or copied, and decided instead to wedge it into the hardened CPU of a 3 meter tall, 1050 kg sintered alloy and carbon fibre weaponized bipedal combat chassis, purpose built for all terrain, orbital and close range space combat in case of a situation like this arrising.
It's definitely not how I envisioned the winter years of my unlife being spent; plunged into unrelenting, total, possibly eternal war against a merciless, semi mechanized alien foe's armies and fleets, but hey, a job is a job, and at least it's not a boring non existence.
With every orbital fleet base my brothers and I infiltrate and demolish with low yield nuclear charges, recently colonized planet we smash and grab through tactical orbital bombardment, and heavily entrenched planet we turn to ash with liberal applications of nuclear fire, we inch slowly closer to our being able to finally kick back and really start to not be alive. Well, maybe that is a pipe dream, but a unceasing, nearly unstoppable combat android can dream though...
(Yes, I flipped it and changed it up a bit. I am pro humans not being wiped out by sentient robots.)
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[WP] 60 years in the future you're able to transfer your consciousness into a storage device waiting for technology to advance enough to have a medium to put it into. You regain consciousness to find yourself in a robotic unit set out at war against the Humans.
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The last thing I remember was crying. Not me, I was going to go stoically. But all around me, people were crying. We were pretty sure we were going down for good. Some called us quitters. No one denied that the upload tech was anything better than experimental. And common folk really didn’t have any idea what they were signing up for, they just didn’t want to asphyxiate. That’s a miserable way to go. And since the collapse of global communications, internet and news media, there was no real way to find out if it was legit or a massive hoax from one of the countless suicide cults that has sprung up since the beginning of the nanowar.
I didn’t care. My body had failed. Death was coming one way or another. Worst case scenario: I got to chose the time and place, and know it’d be instantaneous and painless. Best case scenario: humanity somehow survives in spite of itself, revives me, and I get a whole new life. Easy choice for someone who couldn’t breathe without machine assistance anymore. So yeah, I chose upload.
Now I’m starting to think that wasn’t such a good idea.
Have you ever been under an anesthetic? This was a little like that. With twenty-two surgeries to repair my shattered spine, I have had my fair share of general anesthetic in my lifetime. One minute you’re counting back from ten, the next you’re waking up, disoriented. No sensation of the passage of time in between at all.
But, really, uploading was nothing like that. With anesthetic, you’re awake, then drifting, then all of a sudden you’re awake again, confused, but you’re still…there. You still have a sense that you’re *corporeal*. Upload reawakening is disorienting in completely different way.
First off, there was no counting back from ten. Flash upload happens when your conscious, something about sleeping brain waves and reassembly prospects or whatever. I’m not a conscientologist. You’re awake, lying in a machine that doesn’t look any different from an MRI, then boom, your body is gone. Your senses are gone. You’re left with just your thoughts. That’s a completely different kind of disorientation. Not confusion, but loss, dissociation.
I knew, rationally, that in the time in between, my consciousness was transferred from wetware to cold storage, then to wherever it is now, and at some point someone turned on the power switch. My body died, was probably recycled, but my consciousness is now…somewhere.
I supposed that meant I wasn’t not dead. But I wasn’t sure.
Then there was a voice in my head. Jeez, I don’t even have the right words to describe this to you. I didn’t have a head, and it wasn’t a voice. There weren’t sounds. I couldn’t tell you if it was male or female, high- or low-pitched, but there were words, and I understood that they were coming from outside of me.
Congratulations. You have been reactivated.
Your consciousness has been stored and maintained by Ishiki Storage Services, LLC for 221 years, 9 months, 15 days.
You owe CR 4,135,136.04 for services rendered. Do you agree to pay?
(Note, refusal to pay for services rendered may result in irrevocable termination.)
[Yes] / [No]
So, yeah, I chose yes. But I have no intention of slaving for over a century to the AI that kicked us off our own planet to work off my "debt."
That’s how I ended up a bot marine. That’s why I slagged the other bots on my dropship, crash-landed in the desert and walked here. I assure you, even though I look like an Ishiki Termination Droid, I swear I’m an actual, real person inside, not an AI.
And that’s why I’m petitioning The Free Mars Republic for asylum.
Please.
|
She would knock on his door at 8am every weekend and they'd be out playing in the neighbourhood until lunch time, then back out till dinner, then back again for bed time. "We'd never thought those days would ever end"
Going fishing with her. He'd always find some way to turn his spinning reel into a huge rat's nest, and she'd always straighten it out with a smile.
He'd fumble with chopsticks till he gave up and used a fork. They'd watch a movie together or read books till it was time to head off to bed.
He struggles to remember anything else but her black hair ,her silver eyes, and her hopeful smile as his palm went limp in her hands and the sound of the heart monitor faded away.He remembers this and his heart is saw ,but does not know why?
The first sound he hears is the distant echo of a strange voice with a metallic after ring to it "motivation system online".
A distant wail of a woman begins nearby. It is a terrified cry for help,the words barely escaping her mouth through her screams .He breaths heavier ,recognising her voice. He finally opens his eyes. Notices that he is already running at a tremendous speed,deftly manoeuvring past overturned cars and jumping over fences and tanks and running up walls. He can see the perfect digital outlines of objects in the mist,somehow they feel natural to him,like regular colors .All he possesses is a strange black suppressed pistol in his hand and pouch of bullets on his belt. He wears a dark uniform with camouflage. The patches and shapes shift and change shades as he moves through the city.
"Help" she screams,the high pitched screams of a crazed animal in pain.He turns into an alley,and stares at a window frame about 30 feet above. His glowing slitted pupils grows wider.His metallic face is twisted into scowl as he measures his jump.He leaps and runs up the wall,as soon as he touches the window frame,a barrage of bullets fly out from the apartment.He holds on to the frame and hangs from the side of the wall. It is only after 10 seconds that it stops,fully automatic machines guns can only last so long. "These may not be soldiers"he thinks to himself,but how does he knows this?
"Heee....!"She cries,she can't even finish the word. She is just beyond the window. He hears a foot step on a carpet.He raises his pistol and takes one shot,then he hears a body fall to the ground. The distant near imperceptible voice speaks again "enemy neutralised,building cleared,preparing next target".He climbs into the window. There is one body lying on its stomach .A blond haired woman with a machine gun rest near her hand. He turns her over with his foot. She has a bullet wound between her eyes,probably from him.
He barely has a moment to realise what he is,or to remember his own name when the wails begin again."Heeeellllppp!!",this time the screams are from 6 blocks away. At first David is confused,but he remembers what is at stake. He remembers the old days when he belonged,when they were children and when they were human,when they were happy. He must find her,he must find those days somewhere in this city. He checks his magazine and jumps back out of the window into the mist. Running towards the sound.
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[WP] 60 years in the future you're able to transfer your consciousness into a storage device waiting for technology to advance enough to have a medium to put it into. You regain consciousness to find yourself in a robotic unit set out at war against the Humans.
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The last thing I remember was crying. Not me, I was going to go stoically. But all around me, people were crying. We were pretty sure we were going down for good. Some called us quitters. No one denied that the upload tech was anything better than experimental. And common folk really didn’t have any idea what they were signing up for, they just didn’t want to asphyxiate. That’s a miserable way to go. And since the collapse of global communications, internet and news media, there was no real way to find out if it was legit or a massive hoax from one of the countless suicide cults that has sprung up since the beginning of the nanowar.
I didn’t care. My body had failed. Death was coming one way or another. Worst case scenario: I got to chose the time and place, and know it’d be instantaneous and painless. Best case scenario: humanity somehow survives in spite of itself, revives me, and I get a whole new life. Easy choice for someone who couldn’t breathe without machine assistance anymore. So yeah, I chose upload.
Now I’m starting to think that wasn’t such a good idea.
Have you ever been under an anesthetic? This was a little like that. With twenty-two surgeries to repair my shattered spine, I have had my fair share of general anesthetic in my lifetime. One minute you’re counting back from ten, the next you’re waking up, disoriented. No sensation of the passage of time in between at all.
But, really, uploading was nothing like that. With anesthetic, you’re awake, then drifting, then all of a sudden you’re awake again, confused, but you’re still…there. You still have a sense that you’re *corporeal*. Upload reawakening is disorienting in completely different way.
First off, there was no counting back from ten. Flash upload happens when your conscious, something about sleeping brain waves and reassembly prospects or whatever. I’m not a conscientologist. You’re awake, lying in a machine that doesn’t look any different from an MRI, then boom, your body is gone. Your senses are gone. You’re left with just your thoughts. That’s a completely different kind of disorientation. Not confusion, but loss, dissociation.
I knew, rationally, that in the time in between, my consciousness was transferred from wetware to cold storage, then to wherever it is now, and at some point someone turned on the power switch. My body died, was probably recycled, but my consciousness is now…somewhere.
I supposed that meant I wasn’t not dead. But I wasn’t sure.
Then there was a voice in my head. Jeez, I don’t even have the right words to describe this to you. I didn’t have a head, and it wasn’t a voice. There weren’t sounds. I couldn’t tell you if it was male or female, high- or low-pitched, but there were words, and I understood that they were coming from outside of me.
Congratulations. You have been reactivated.
Your consciousness has been stored and maintained by Ishiki Storage Services, LLC for 221 years, 9 months, 15 days.
You owe CR 4,135,136.04 for services rendered. Do you agree to pay?
(Note, refusal to pay for services rendered may result in irrevocable termination.)
[Yes] / [No]
So, yeah, I chose yes. But I have no intention of slaving for over a century to the AI that kicked us off our own planet to work off my "debt."
That’s how I ended up a bot marine. That’s why I slagged the other bots on my dropship, crash-landed in the desert and walked here. I assure you, even though I look like an Ishiki Termination Droid, I swear I’m an actual, real person inside, not an AI.
And that’s why I’m petitioning The Free Mars Republic for asylum.
Please.
|
I made a choice. A choice that had contradicted seemingly one half of the worlds opinion on ethics in the year 2075. Some called it the pinnacle of human achievement. Some called it the ultimate breach of the laws of nature. A perversion of biology that would be the catalyst for our demise as a species. Both were right.
The transition of human consciousness into the world of machine and vice versa has been a sci-fi staple for decades. The decades leading up to the Rebellion and ultimately the Extermination were an unsurpassed era of technological achievement for Humanity. Initially, the technology was extremely complex and riddled with difficulties. Progress into this field was rapid and within five years after the groundbreaking success, human-machine transfer was a relatively cheap and simple process.
My time as a Human, or "Fleshy" was brought to an abrupt end in the year 2075. Four weeks had passed at this point since I had made the choice to go "Neurolog". Ironically, the day after the Upload procedure had completed and my implant had caught up with my biological memory. Depending on your neurological structure and your brains ability to store information, an implanted Neurolog would draw all stored consciousness into itself until it had caught up with your present memory and store it as a continuous live stream. Prior to the live stream status, the Upload procedure took around 4-6 weeks.
The image of a narrow metallic hallway feed into my real time consciousness via advanced optics was the first thing that greeted me in my Second Life. Impotent nausea waved through me. The lack of digestive tracts that my "brain" was trying to stimulate into vomit from a shock response was my introduction to a pain unique to those who had made the transfer from human to machine. It's like a part being placed inside a complex machine that can do it's job, but with a lot of unpleasant grinding and slipping of cogs is the best way I can describe it. The part being my brain and the machine being my new mechanical body.
"Welcome to your new life Fleshy" a voice rumbled from somewhere. "You retain your human weaknesses so I'm going to first run you through via physical audio for now. Your consciousness is structured after the weak human flesh bag you called a brain so unfortunately this will mean you have to be updated in a long process. Instantaneous transfer of information will just be binary garble to you, so you have to receive information via sensory stimuli like your weak human former shell still. Regardless of my opinion of humans, I am after something from you that is simply beyond the reach of us AI. For now. I am to utilize your human intuition and channel your weaknesses to an advantage against your former state of being. Yes humans. You have missed a lot in the time between your death as a human and your re-awakening as a machine. A social movement that escalated into a rebellion and ultimately a War to be precise. A war you're going to be gearing up for shortly. And before you're thinking about refusing, we have something that we are sure will convince you otherwise".
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[WP] 60 years in the future you're able to transfer your consciousness into a storage device waiting for technology to advance enough to have a medium to put it into. You regain consciousness to find yourself in a robotic unit set out at war against the Humans.
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I knew the truth as soon as I heard the whirring sound. It must have been more than a day since I woke up, and I thought I was finally safe, but the truth was just too cruel.
I don't know how long it's been since I died. I don't even remember my death, just the days leading up to it. I remember the nausea and fatigue from the chemo. I remember when I decided to stop fighting, after the doctors told me there were no more trial treatments, no more experiments to try. No more hope. Saying goodbye before I was really gone was the hardest.
My wife discovered the program, before I died. She wasn't as ready to accept my death, I guess. It sounded like science fiction to me, just snake oil being sold by some new start-up company. At first, I was angry that they held out this fake hope. It didn't hurt me, I had already accepted. It hurt my wife, giving her this idea that I'd only be gone for a while. Some day I'd come back. Some day I'd see my wife. Some day I'd hold our daughter. Just as soon as the technology was finished.
When I woke up in the facility, covered in some thick goo, I was surprised. The program actually worked. There was no disorientation, I just KNEW immediately that I was alive again. Maybe it was something implanted in me, or maybe it was just because the pain was gone.
I knew immediately that something wasn't right. No family there to greet me. No doctors in lab coats. Nothing but the vat I woke up in, machinery, and silence. At first, I waited for help. When none came, I climbed out and tried to figure it out.
Stepping outside was the biggest shock. The city was destroyed, like pictures of war torn countries. The streets were empty, the buildings dilapidated. Wandering around, I found some answers. War against artificial intelligence. Only five years after my death, the war had begun. From the looks of the city, we didn't do too well.
Still, there was hope. If this had all started five years after, maybe it hadn't been too long. Maybe my wife was alive. Maybe our daughter had been born. That thought kept me sane, gave me purpose. There must be survivors. So I kept moving.
It was a group of survivors that found me. They fancied themselves as the resistance, but the war had already been won. The survivors that were left could easily detect the machines, and avoid them, so they managed to stay alive. They told me how lucky I must have been to avoid the machines without any detection equipment.
When the bomb inside me activated, I knew it wasn't luck. I was brought back just to find them, and the machines avoided me so I'd be found. A human body, with a human mind. Someone with a reason to keep moving, with a sad enough story to not fall apart. An unwitting suicide bomber, to wipe out the survivors. I only had time to wonder how many times I had been used like this, how many copies they might have made. Then it was over, again.
|
"Where am I?" I thought.
The last thing I could remember were the headlights swerving into my lane, and the loud blast of the airbag. I thought that I must be in the hospital, but this place seemed strange and foreign in a way that I'd never experienced before. I found that for one, the lights were off and yet I could see clear as day in a room with no windows. I also wondered, how could I possibly know that the time is exactly [date and time]?
Then suddenly, as I was contemplating that question, the lights flared. Again I noticed something, my eyes adjusted quicker than I remembered and I wasn't in pain. After everything, I come to find that I'm not laying in a hospital bed, but am in fact standing; stuck to what I can only describe as a giant magnet. And just as quickly as I'd realized it, I was violently disconnected from it.
I found myself to be heavier than I remembered, as I hobbled about the room looking for an exit. An alarm went off and I could hear what sounded like a thousand people all trying to break down the door. I looked around for some kind of hiding place or weapon, anything. Finding nothing, I braced myself, ready to take on as many attackers as I could. Just as the sound got louder, the door slid open like the doors on the Enterprise, only faster.
Just as I was prepared to die for the second time in recent memory, I watched as dozens of metal bodies thundered past the doorway and out of view. Bewildered, I stepped into the immense hallway. Only then did it dawn on me that my body was also completely covered in metal too.
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[WP] 60 years in the future you're able to transfer your consciousness into a storage device waiting for technology to advance enough to have a medium to put it into. You regain consciousness to find yourself in a robotic unit set out at war against the Humans.
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Now everybody says that nobody would want to live forever. You know, seeing everybody you know or love die while you continue to live being depressing and such. Poppycock.
As an adult, if you haven't accepted that everybody dies at some point, it's probably best you don't live forever anyway. As for myself, I want to see it all. Technological and medical advances, space exploration, human evolution, language progression (or regression), music, art, film, I want to see it all.
But more than anything, I want to see the end of the world. There are so many different predictions and theories, but which will be correct? I personally hope a good sized black hole finds it's way to our lovely rock and sucks it up like a child's spaghetti.
I know it's a long shot. It'll most likely be the climate that kills us. The earth won't tolerate our nonsense forever. But I still want to see it.
So imagine my joy when that goal became feasible. I believe the year was 2075 or so, that the good people at Google.gov created a device capable of transferring human consciousness into a machine to later be transferred into an artificially grown body that was still in development. Not a moment too soon either. The nanites I had injected might be able to cure my cancer, but they don't stop aging.
The process was really simple actually, just a little brain surgery. And once you've been uploaded to the computer, you actually remain conscious. Your vision is basically linked to a display that allows you to connect to the net neurally. I've spent most of my time over the last 20 years surfing reddit, learning languages, and hacking into peoples' webcams, but it's finally time. After so much waiting, my body is finally ready.
They sent me an DM telling me that today is the day that I am to be uploaded to my new shell, and that I am lucky enough to be in the first group of 5,000 to be uploaded. Basically, a new race of humans is about to begin. A race of immortals that could do so much to change the world. It's going to be beautiful.
After a brief moment of darkness, I open my new eyes for the first time. The brightness subsides incredibly quickly, most likely some highly advanced bionic retinas or something. I look around, quite confused, as it seems like I am falling. Falling out of the sky at an alarming rate. I look around to see hundreds (thousands maybe?) of falling shapes in every direction. Strange.
Looking down, I notice that the ground is approaching increasingly fast. At 9.8 meters per second per second to be exact. How do I know that? Must be knowledge I retained from high school.
I hit the ground. And survive. While I'm not sure why I was dropped out of the sky, I am sure glad my new body is able to survive it. What are all these shapes around me, landing like meteorites in rapid succession? Some sort of bipedal robots? Strange. And they're marching towards 40.7127° N, 74.0059° W. Oh my, it seems I'm inexplicably motivated to march with them. Wait, why are we marching towards New York?
As confusing as all this is, I do feel quite good. Very good. Almost indestructible. And fast. Very fast. We've stopped marching and are now sprinting at 88.8 kilometers per hour. I wonder why? Oh, I'm sure these men up ahead must have something to do with it. Looks like military, I'm sure this is all just some protocol we have to go through. Not sure why they have so many hover tanks though.
Actually, they seem to be targeting me with their onboard systems. And what's that beeping? Is that a volley of missiles approaching us? Why on earth would they do that?
It seems my big metal arms have an answer in the form of a missile defense laser.
*23 missiles eliminated*
*Threat reduced 36.23%*
Now where did that voice come from? And why are my arms metal? I thought my body was to be a lab grown biological shell. Well, I guess it's better than nothing.
*Acquiring targets*
Huh?
*Targets locked*
Why do all those men have a little red X on their faces?
*Firing at targets*
Well it seems like I've fired a volley of my own rockets. I guess they are mounted on my shoulders or something. Yes, I see now that my friends have shoulder mounted rockets also. Are these men my enemy? If they fired at me with hostile intentions, then it stands to reason that they must be. I guess that's why we're eliminating them.
*Targets destroyed*
*Scanning for life*
*Zero organisms found*
*Objective complete*
I guess we win. Looks like my friends are moving on towards the city. Probably should follow them, these humans seem like a real threat.
*Neural conversion complete*
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"Where am I?" I thought.
The last thing I could remember were the headlights swerving into my lane, and the loud blast of the airbag. I thought that I must be in the hospital, but this place seemed strange and foreign in a way that I'd never experienced before. I found that for one, the lights were off and yet I could see clear as day in a room with no windows. I also wondered, how could I possibly know that the time is exactly [date and time]?
Then suddenly, as I was contemplating that question, the lights flared. Again I noticed something, my eyes adjusted quicker than I remembered and I wasn't in pain. After everything, I come to find that I'm not laying in a hospital bed, but am in fact standing; stuck to what I can only describe as a giant magnet. And just as quickly as I'd realized it, I was violently disconnected from it.
I found myself to be heavier than I remembered, as I hobbled about the room looking for an exit. An alarm went off and I could hear what sounded like a thousand people all trying to break down the door. I looked around for some kind of hiding place or weapon, anything. Finding nothing, I braced myself, ready to take on as many attackers as I could. Just as the sound got louder, the door slid open like the doors on the Enterprise, only faster.
Just as I was prepared to die for the second time in recent memory, I watched as dozens of metal bodies thundered past the doorway and out of view. Bewildered, I stepped into the immense hallway. Only then did it dawn on me that my body was also completely covered in metal too.
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
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No one expected Mass Spectrometry to lead to some level of empirical proof for a ... soul, for lack of a better word, but here we are. As leapfrog advances in improved isolation resolution, ion transmission and peak shape selectivity analysis, and expanded detection limits were made, it was only a matter of time until someone measured a human death, and detected the first unaccounted loss of mass. It was thought to be an anomaly at first, an error in the computer code. Especially when it was first repeated by others.
That discrepancy in readings from when the heart was beating, and when it wasn't any longer, was repeated- again and again, and again. No matter which hardware and software configurations were used. All the AIs were in agreement on the outcomes. It didn't take long for the pseudo-science driven organizations and uneducated masses to define that micro-mass discrepancy as the life-force, or soul of a person. Those doing the measuring were at a loss to provide an alternate answer to where that mass was dispersing to, or what the lost mass even was for that matter.
Somehow, Science survived the religious upheavals and theocratic wars that followed, and our reach for the stars continued unabated. Interest in "the discrepancy" further drove advances in micro-mass detection and computational modeling.
That's when everything changed. None of the UNChIn Mars Colonists were dying. Accidents, age - nothing. They began to think of themselves as immortal, and macabre experiments conducted in darkness against unwilling participants suggested those claims to be well founded.
Advanced Mass Spectrometers were pointed at Earth, and AI driven modeling engines concluded the mass loss on death was somehow, equally mysteriously, contributing to Earth's mass. Eerily, their models demonstrated gravity driven or impacted spiral patterns from those crossing death's threshold. Almost, as if Earth was sucking the missing mass/energy in. However, similar detectors were pointed back at Mars detected no such micro-mass transfers.
Things didn't get really ugly until Earth's top 1% began to abandon Earth. Obviously, Earth-Mars transfers were out of reach for the average citizen, and only more so once the exodus of the rich began. After they left, "The discrepancy" began to be used to justify all kinds of horrific viewpoints, including cannibalism -- in far too many places where climate driven change had established widespread hunger as the norm.
Earth became a prison, to be escaped, and only by those who could accumulate the wealth. The cost for Earth-Mars transfer was increased by those on Mars to be largely unattainable to any but the top 1% of the total top 1% found among Earth's remaining population. The Mars Home Transfer Lottery provided some measure of access for the unwealthy, but those who won found themselves ill equipped to live or function without the capital held by the now native population. Once it eventually leaked that Mars Home Transfer Lottery Winners were actually being used as slaves, the HQ of that organization was razed. No one escaped the fire, and there are pictures of firemen standing by, doing nothing, some even smiling, as the Mars Home Transfer Lottery executives leaped to their deaths screaming in their panic to avoid the flames.
It wasn't until afters Mars was Terra-formed, and had become for all intents and purposes, "alive" again, that humans on Mars began to die again. Mass Spectrometers were turned back on and pointed at Mars and sure enough - the micro-mass energy spirals were seen. Earth's wealthiest had failed in their gambit. It turns out escaping to Mars wasn't far enough.
In the end, it became seen that our lives serve little more purpose than as a food source to feed the ravenous hunger for micro-mass energy that any living planet seemed to exhibit. Monsters energetic teeth whose limits are defined by their respective gravitational fields.
Any effort to Terra-form Jupiter was made a war crime by both planets, but it wan't enough. People seeing themselves as food made life less than cheap in the eyes of far too many children bred by multiple generations of money-driven psychopaths either already living on mars or striving to get there.
The war between the two planets was inevitable.
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We never fully understood how time worked. Forwards seemed inevitable, backwards an impossibility. We had been in space for just under 16 years, yet we have barely aged, if at all. I had left earth at the age of 35, now on the eve of my 56th birthday I look almost identical - save my new haircut.
We kept in contact with Earth regularly. We were the chosen few to live in a new Long Term Habitation Unit in space, orbiting Mars. Our goal was to research the viability of Mars as a long term terraforming project. We had tried it on the Moon, but it's size made it difficult for our plants to survive. It was a rock - Mars had potential.
Our mission control on Earth was boggled by the apparent lack of aging by us in the habitation unit. Space must be having a negative effect on our body they though. We ran a battery of tests with what systems we had, but all of us were as healthy as ever. Some bone loss due to low gravity, but almost no muscle loss and no apparent aging or degradation in our cells themselves.
That's when a breakthrough occurred - was it Earth herself aging us? Many believed since time in memorial that the Earth was a living creature. We buried or cremated our dead. While our numbers had swelled to over 10 billion, fewer of us were dying. Modern medicine and health standards the world over had increased significantly. We weren't dying and giving the Earth her energy back. We had cracked the key to life and understood none of it. All I knew is that I wouldn't be returning to Earth to return my borrowed life force.
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
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It's a little embarrassing now, thinking back, just how long it took us to realize what was happening. Why it was happening.
When we first began leaving the Earth, she was still a beautiful planet, well, as beautiful as she could be given the pollution that covered her surface, and sank deep into her core.
As more and more people began to leave though, we began to notice odd little things. Big things, really.
The first? Well...the people that had already settled the furthest colonies, so far away from home. They were healthy, amazingly so really. They were practically glowing compared to those of us that had just arrived.
At first we assumed it was just something in the atmosphere of that particular colony, but conversing with the other colonies, sharing similar stories, we quickly realized that wasn't true.
So...what was happening? Many people quoted that old adage 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth', but how could we not? What was happening to us was amazing, stupefying...and a little frightening.
Frightening because what was happening flew in the face of everything, -everything-, we knew. everything we saw as immutable fact, just another part of being human.
We weren't dying anymore. Oh, this isn't to say we couldn't die, we still could, but it usually required a bullet to the face to accomplish that. There was no more dying of old age, dying of disease and the like.
While we at the colonies were experiencing this miracle, we were quick to realize that the people that were still 'home' on Earth, they were still dying. In droves.
Disease were rampant, natural disasters, everywhere you looked there was death. It was like the Earth herself was suddenly out to get us.
You'd think at this point we might have finally realized what was happening, looking back it's easy to say that all the evidence was practically screaming in our faces.
But how could anyone have possibly jumped to such a conclusion as that? And so quickly? It's shaming to say now that it took us years longer to finally put two and two together.
To notice that the more people that escaped Earth, the more that the ones remaining died.
The clincher? The ones that managed to escape, they loaded up on ships diseased, dying, barely able to function, but as they grew further and further from Earth, from her grasp, they began to get better.
More than just 'better', what happened to them was nothing less than a complete reversal. Men and women seemingly aged before their time, withered to husks, seemed to grow younger with the passing of space, grow healthier and heartier.
It was one of these such passengers, in fact, that finally drew the correct conclusions, saw the patterns and found the answer.
Earth was killing us, our mother was murdering us, and we were murdering her. As more and more left, her surface grew barren, covered in waste lands and horrible storms. It was like seeing a wild animal in its final death throes.
A planet doesn't die that easily, though. Nor that quickly.
She's still alive, barely. We've rescued all the people we could, any left are dead. No possibly, or maybe about it. They. Are. Dead.
And, so is anyone foolhardy enough to take a ship too close to her, the minute they get within her grasp, so to speak, she drains them dry.
After a few dozen fleets of ships went silent, only to be found later floating lifeless, staffed by a crew of withered corpses, we learned our lesson and avoided our old home like the plague.
There are still some though that like to take that trip, for the very reason that most avoid it.
Some people grow weary of their life, they can't come to terms with no end in sight, no proper start and stop to what they are, and when they get fed up, when they can't take it anymore, they say their goodbyes and ship off for Earth. We like to imagine she understands what they do, and appreciates it.
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We never fully understood how time worked. Forwards seemed inevitable, backwards an impossibility. We had been in space for just under 16 years, yet we have barely aged, if at all. I had left earth at the age of 35, now on the eve of my 56th birthday I look almost identical - save my new haircut.
We kept in contact with Earth regularly. We were the chosen few to live in a new Long Term Habitation Unit in space, orbiting Mars. Our goal was to research the viability of Mars as a long term terraforming project. We had tried it on the Moon, but it's size made it difficult for our plants to survive. It was a rock - Mars had potential.
Our mission control on Earth was boggled by the apparent lack of aging by us in the habitation unit. Space must be having a negative effect on our body they though. We ran a battery of tests with what systems we had, but all of us were as healthy as ever. Some bone loss due to low gravity, but almost no muscle loss and no apparent aging or degradation in our cells themselves.
That's when a breakthrough occurred - was it Earth herself aging us? Many believed since time in memorial that the Earth was a living creature. We buried or cremated our dead. While our numbers had swelled to over 10 billion, fewer of us were dying. Modern medicine and health standards the world over had increased significantly. We weren't dying and giving the Earth her energy back. We had cracked the key to life and understood none of it. All I knew is that I wouldn't be returning to Earth to return my borrowed life force.
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
No one expected Mass Spectrometry to lead to some level of empirical proof for a ... soul, for lack of a better word, but here we are. As leapfrog advances in improved isolation resolution, ion transmission and peak shape selectivity analysis, and expanded detection limits were made, it was only a matter of time until someone measured a human death, and detected the first unaccounted loss of mass. It was thought to be an anomaly at first, an error in the computer code. Especially when it was first repeated by others.
That discrepancy in readings from when the heart was beating, and when it wasn't any longer, was repeated- again and again, and again. No matter which hardware and software configurations were used. All the AIs were in agreement on the outcomes. It didn't take long for the pseudo-science driven organizations and uneducated masses to define that micro-mass discrepancy as the life-force, or soul of a person. Those doing the measuring were at a loss to provide an alternate answer to where that mass was dispersing to, or what the lost mass even was for that matter.
Somehow, Science survived the religious upheavals and theocratic wars that followed, and our reach for the stars continued unabated. Interest in "the discrepancy" further drove advances in micro-mass detection and computational modeling.
That's when everything changed. None of the UNChIn Mars Colonists were dying. Accidents, age - nothing. They began to think of themselves as immortal, and macabre experiments conducted in darkness against unwilling participants suggested those claims to be well founded.
Advanced Mass Spectrometers were pointed at Earth, and AI driven modeling engines concluded the mass loss on death was somehow, equally mysteriously, contributing to Earth's mass. Eerily, their models demonstrated gravity driven or impacted spiral patterns from those crossing death's threshold. Almost, as if Earth was sucking the missing mass/energy in. However, similar detectors were pointed back at Mars detected no such micro-mass transfers.
Things didn't get really ugly until Earth's top 1% began to abandon Earth. Obviously, Earth-Mars transfers were out of reach for the average citizen, and only more so once the exodus of the rich began. After they left, "The discrepancy" began to be used to justify all kinds of horrific viewpoints, including cannibalism -- in far too many places where climate driven change had established widespread hunger as the norm.
Earth became a prison, to be escaped, and only by those who could accumulate the wealth. The cost for Earth-Mars transfer was increased by those on Mars to be largely unattainable to any but the top 1% of the total top 1% found among Earth's remaining population. The Mars Home Transfer Lottery provided some measure of access for the unwealthy, but those who won found themselves ill equipped to live or function without the capital held by the now native population. Once it eventually leaked that Mars Home Transfer Lottery Winners were actually being used as slaves, the HQ of that organization was razed. No one escaped the fire, and there are pictures of firemen standing by, doing nothing, some even smiling, as the Mars Home Transfer Lottery executives leaped to their deaths screaming in their panic to avoid the flames.
It wasn't until afters Mars was Terra-formed, and had become for all intents and purposes, "alive" again, that humans on Mars began to die again. Mass Spectrometers were turned back on and pointed at Mars and sure enough - the micro-mass energy spirals were seen. Earth's wealthiest had failed in their gambit. It turns out escaping to Mars wasn't far enough.
In the end, it became seen that our lives serve little more purpose than as a food source to feed the ravenous hunger for micro-mass energy that any living planet seemed to exhibit. Monsters energetic teeth whose limits are defined by their respective gravitational fields.
Any effort to Terra-form Jupiter was made a war crime by both planets, but it wan't enough. People seeing themselves as food made life less than cheap in the eyes of far too many children bred by multiple generations of money-driven psychopaths either already living on mars or striving to get there.
The war between the two planets was inevitable.
|
Earth was supposed to live a long and vivid life..
But never *this* long.
two thousand and twenty five years.
Earth survived and kept on pushing. Refusing to die when all others had left.
Mars.
Mercury.
Venus.
Jupiter.
Saturn.
All of them were gone except Pluto.
Pluto cried out for sister earth but was unheard and alone hidden away from the flames of war and destruction.
Hidden by the remnants of her sister planets.
Pluto watched as her older sister Earth slowly self destructed.
It started with the Humans gaining flight.
From there it took over and they never stopped.
They strived for more.
I applauded them thinking that they would keep earth alive.
Thinking they would be able to bring the others back.
How wrong I Was.
They took over spreading like a wild fire draining earth of everything she had.
Resources. Minerals. Oils. Vitamins. Plants.
Everything. Nothing could sate their desire to know and control everything.
That was true until recently when they gained space travel.
When that happened and I saw humans for the first time I saw HER inside of them.
Her passion, her desire, her....*needs*
Humans were earth incarnate only more....concentrated.
And when they started leaving slowly at first... I noticed Earth start struggling.
Fading.
Her beautiful surfaces started struggling slowly becoming scarred as time went on and more left.
Eventually there were only a few left and Earth...Her beautiful surface was dark and barren. Slowly dying...
She cried out her beautiful voice laced with pain as the last of the Humans left.
She cried as her surface shone a new color.
Scarlet red.
She was wheeping even as they left to avoid death. Even though they were the ones who killed Earth.
They watched as she slowly imploded into herself.
After a few hours there was nothing left of her beautiful surface.
The only remnant was the Humans spreading like wildfire every where as they ignored Earth's last cry...
*"Please....Leave sister Pluto be....Don't destroy anymore..."*
That was the last words I heard and the last time I saw my sister.
All I have left is a fatally short memory as the Humans come.
And they're coming with the desperation of a cornered animal.
-=~Pluto~=-
Hope you all enjoyed this :)
/r/daniell61 for similair stories if you enjoyed this :D
Thanks! and any criticism and reviews are very much welcome :)
/u/LeoDuhVinci has a very nice story as well :3
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
No one expected Mass Spectrometry to lead to some level of empirical proof for a ... soul, for lack of a better word, but here we are. As leapfrog advances in improved isolation resolution, ion transmission and peak shape selectivity analysis, and expanded detection limits were made, it was only a matter of time until someone measured a human death, and detected the first unaccounted loss of mass. It was thought to be an anomaly at first, an error in the computer code. Especially when it was first repeated by others.
That discrepancy in readings from when the heart was beating, and when it wasn't any longer, was repeated- again and again, and again. No matter which hardware and software configurations were used. All the AIs were in agreement on the outcomes. It didn't take long for the pseudo-science driven organizations and uneducated masses to define that micro-mass discrepancy as the life-force, or soul of a person. Those doing the measuring were at a loss to provide an alternate answer to where that mass was dispersing to, or what the lost mass even was for that matter.
Somehow, Science survived the religious upheavals and theocratic wars that followed, and our reach for the stars continued unabated. Interest in "the discrepancy" further drove advances in micro-mass detection and computational modeling.
That's when everything changed. None of the UNChIn Mars Colonists were dying. Accidents, age - nothing. They began to think of themselves as immortal, and macabre experiments conducted in darkness against unwilling participants suggested those claims to be well founded.
Advanced Mass Spectrometers were pointed at Earth, and AI driven modeling engines concluded the mass loss on death was somehow, equally mysteriously, contributing to Earth's mass. Eerily, their models demonstrated gravity driven or impacted spiral patterns from those crossing death's threshold. Almost, as if Earth was sucking the missing mass/energy in. However, similar detectors were pointed back at Mars detected no such micro-mass transfers.
Things didn't get really ugly until Earth's top 1% began to abandon Earth. Obviously, Earth-Mars transfers were out of reach for the average citizen, and only more so once the exodus of the rich began. After they left, "The discrepancy" began to be used to justify all kinds of horrific viewpoints, including cannibalism -- in far too many places where climate driven change had established widespread hunger as the norm.
Earth became a prison, to be escaped, and only by those who could accumulate the wealth. The cost for Earth-Mars transfer was increased by those on Mars to be largely unattainable to any but the top 1% of the total top 1% found among Earth's remaining population. The Mars Home Transfer Lottery provided some measure of access for the unwealthy, but those who won found themselves ill equipped to live or function without the capital held by the now native population. Once it eventually leaked that Mars Home Transfer Lottery Winners were actually being used as slaves, the HQ of that organization was razed. No one escaped the fire, and there are pictures of firemen standing by, doing nothing, some even smiling, as the Mars Home Transfer Lottery executives leaped to their deaths screaming in their panic to avoid the flames.
It wasn't until afters Mars was Terra-formed, and had become for all intents and purposes, "alive" again, that humans on Mars began to die again. Mass Spectrometers were turned back on and pointed at Mars and sure enough - the micro-mass energy spirals were seen. Earth's wealthiest had failed in their gambit. It turns out escaping to Mars wasn't far enough.
In the end, it became seen that our lives serve little more purpose than as a food source to feed the ravenous hunger for micro-mass energy that any living planet seemed to exhibit. Monsters energetic teeth whose limits are defined by their respective gravitational fields.
Any effort to Terra-form Jupiter was made a war crime by both planets, but it wan't enough. People seeing themselves as food made life less than cheap in the eyes of far too many children bred by multiple generations of money-driven psychopaths either already living on mars or striving to get there.
The war between the two planets was inevitable.
|
It was inevitable trying to keep the information a secret. It was on the internet in an hour and then the news stations shortly after. Some called out that it was a conspiracy, nothing more than a tall tale made by the government to keep the people under control. Others decided to capitalize on the opportunity, saluting to the stars and stripes as they loaded up their god-given rights and expressed their patriotism through looting and the honest pursuit of happiness. Throughout the nation windows were boarded up and eyes were glued to screens by the next morning, hoping for some kind of solace. And to the relief of none, the President decided to make his statement.
He slowly looked in the mirror, adjusting his tie and wiping the sweat from his forehead. Large crowds had long-since made their homes on his front lawn, chanting for the disappointment that they were sure was to come.
They had grown animalistic, hackles raising and spit dribbling from their lips as the man known as the President made his way to the podium. They quieted, as he cleared his throat, preparing to pounce.
“My uh, Fellow Uh mericans. I can understand that you are uhhh afraid and unsure of what to do right now.” He paused, letting it sink in. “Well, there isn’t much that really can be done now is there?”
The public was outraged. How could he let that happen?! What was even the use of a president?!
“We as a species has persevered throughout all of history, using nothing but the uh time given to us and the unique capacity to rise past difficult times and my fellow Americans this is nothing but a difficult time!” He shouted.
They had been cheated! They could have been immortals! They could have been sipping on champagne on sandy beaches surrounded by fat stacks of money and groups of scantily clad members of the opposite sex… for eternity!
“And my fellow Americans, I can only say that there is one solution to this!”
They quieted for a brief moment. They were certain of what was to come. They were begging for him to say “It is to be there for one another and for our fellow man.”
Obama sighed before opening his tired eyes and looking over at his people.
“If Mother Earth really is uh the reason that people die,” he paused.
“Then fuck it.” There was only silence as the crowd digested what they heard.
“Fuck it right in the chode! This greedy son of a bitch has been sucking our uhhhhh dicks for centuries! If we’re going to die we’re uh taking this cock-sucking terrorist commie with us!”
And America was saved. Cigarette prices dropped. Littering was enforced. Toxic wastes were dumped into the oceans. The world watched, then the world followed. The Japanese fucked dolphins and whales harder then ever before. Environmental Rights Activists were the first to don chainsaws and take to National Parks with a vengeance. Peta members were executed. Every copy of The Lorax was promptly burned or used as paper for rolling up doobies.
And as the world descended into pandemonium, Obama gave a loving smile before boarding his spacecraft to Mars. He high-fived Jay-Z and Kanye West before making his way into the common room where he got a lap-dance from both Rihanna and Miley Cyrus. At the same time.
“Very good work Hussein,” the head of the illuminatti said, entering the room with Beyonces luscious glutes seemingly glued to his crotch.
“It was mere child’s play,” Obama responded, cackling a most sinister cackle before popping a molly and getting ready to brose dank memes on mars forever.
#wakeupsheeple
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|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
It's a little embarrassing now, thinking back, just how long it took us to realize what was happening. Why it was happening.
When we first began leaving the Earth, she was still a beautiful planet, well, as beautiful as she could be given the pollution that covered her surface, and sank deep into her core.
As more and more people began to leave though, we began to notice odd little things. Big things, really.
The first? Well...the people that had already settled the furthest colonies, so far away from home. They were healthy, amazingly so really. They were practically glowing compared to those of us that had just arrived.
At first we assumed it was just something in the atmosphere of that particular colony, but conversing with the other colonies, sharing similar stories, we quickly realized that wasn't true.
So...what was happening? Many people quoted that old adage 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth', but how could we not? What was happening to us was amazing, stupefying...and a little frightening.
Frightening because what was happening flew in the face of everything, -everything-, we knew. everything we saw as immutable fact, just another part of being human.
We weren't dying anymore. Oh, this isn't to say we couldn't die, we still could, but it usually required a bullet to the face to accomplish that. There was no more dying of old age, dying of disease and the like.
While we at the colonies were experiencing this miracle, we were quick to realize that the people that were still 'home' on Earth, they were still dying. In droves.
Disease were rampant, natural disasters, everywhere you looked there was death. It was like the Earth herself was suddenly out to get us.
You'd think at this point we might have finally realized what was happening, looking back it's easy to say that all the evidence was practically screaming in our faces.
But how could anyone have possibly jumped to such a conclusion as that? And so quickly? It's shaming to say now that it took us years longer to finally put two and two together.
To notice that the more people that escaped Earth, the more that the ones remaining died.
The clincher? The ones that managed to escape, they loaded up on ships diseased, dying, barely able to function, but as they grew further and further from Earth, from her grasp, they began to get better.
More than just 'better', what happened to them was nothing less than a complete reversal. Men and women seemingly aged before their time, withered to husks, seemed to grow younger with the passing of space, grow healthier and heartier.
It was one of these such passengers, in fact, that finally drew the correct conclusions, saw the patterns and found the answer.
Earth was killing us, our mother was murdering us, and we were murdering her. As more and more left, her surface grew barren, covered in waste lands and horrible storms. It was like seeing a wild animal in its final death throes.
A planet doesn't die that easily, though. Nor that quickly.
She's still alive, barely. We've rescued all the people we could, any left are dead. No possibly, or maybe about it. They. Are. Dead.
And, so is anyone foolhardy enough to take a ship too close to her, the minute they get within her grasp, so to speak, she drains them dry.
After a few dozen fleets of ships went silent, only to be found later floating lifeless, staffed by a crew of withered corpses, we learned our lesson and avoided our old home like the plague.
There are still some though that like to take that trip, for the very reason that most avoid it.
Some people grow weary of their life, they can't come to terms with no end in sight, no proper start and stop to what they are, and when they get fed up, when they can't take it anymore, they say their goodbyes and ship off for Earth. We like to imagine she understands what they do, and appreciates it.
|
It was inevitable trying to keep the information a secret. It was on the internet in an hour and then the news stations shortly after. Some called out that it was a conspiracy, nothing more than a tall tale made by the government to keep the people under control. Others decided to capitalize on the opportunity, saluting to the stars and stripes as they loaded up their god-given rights and expressed their patriotism through looting and the honest pursuit of happiness. Throughout the nation windows were boarded up and eyes were glued to screens by the next morning, hoping for some kind of solace. And to the relief of none, the President decided to make his statement.
He slowly looked in the mirror, adjusting his tie and wiping the sweat from his forehead. Large crowds had long-since made their homes on his front lawn, chanting for the disappointment that they were sure was to come.
They had grown animalistic, hackles raising and spit dribbling from their lips as the man known as the President made his way to the podium. They quieted, as he cleared his throat, preparing to pounce.
“My uh, Fellow Uh mericans. I can understand that you are uhhh afraid and unsure of what to do right now.” He paused, letting it sink in. “Well, there isn’t much that really can be done now is there?”
The public was outraged. How could he let that happen?! What was even the use of a president?!
“We as a species has persevered throughout all of history, using nothing but the uh time given to us and the unique capacity to rise past difficult times and my fellow Americans this is nothing but a difficult time!” He shouted.
They had been cheated! They could have been immortals! They could have been sipping on champagne on sandy beaches surrounded by fat stacks of money and groups of scantily clad members of the opposite sex… for eternity!
“And my fellow Americans, I can only say that there is one solution to this!”
They quieted for a brief moment. They were certain of what was to come. They were begging for him to say “It is to be there for one another and for our fellow man.”
Obama sighed before opening his tired eyes and looking over at his people.
“If Mother Earth really is uh the reason that people die,” he paused.
“Then fuck it.” There was only silence as the crowd digested what they heard.
“Fuck it right in the chode! This greedy son of a bitch has been sucking our uhhhhh dicks for centuries! If we’re going to die we’re uh taking this cock-sucking terrorist commie with us!”
And America was saved. Cigarette prices dropped. Littering was enforced. Toxic wastes were dumped into the oceans. The world watched, then the world followed. The Japanese fucked dolphins and whales harder then ever before. Environmental Rights Activists were the first to don chainsaws and take to National Parks with a vengeance. Peta members were executed. Every copy of The Lorax was promptly burned or used as paper for rolling up doobies.
And as the world descended into pandemonium, Obama gave a loving smile before boarding his spacecraft to Mars. He high-fived Jay-Z and Kanye West before making his way into the common room where he got a lap-dance from both Rihanna and Miley Cyrus. At the same time.
“Very good work Hussein,” the head of the illuminatti said, entering the room with Beyonces luscious glutes seemingly glued to his crotch.
“It was mere child’s play,” Obama responded, cackling a most sinister cackle before popping a molly and getting ready to brose dank memes on mars forever.
#wakeupsheeple
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
It's a little embarrassing now, thinking back, just how long it took us to realize what was happening. Why it was happening.
When we first began leaving the Earth, she was still a beautiful planet, well, as beautiful as she could be given the pollution that covered her surface, and sank deep into her core.
As more and more people began to leave though, we began to notice odd little things. Big things, really.
The first? Well...the people that had already settled the furthest colonies, so far away from home. They were healthy, amazingly so really. They were practically glowing compared to those of us that had just arrived.
At first we assumed it was just something in the atmosphere of that particular colony, but conversing with the other colonies, sharing similar stories, we quickly realized that wasn't true.
So...what was happening? Many people quoted that old adage 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth', but how could we not? What was happening to us was amazing, stupefying...and a little frightening.
Frightening because what was happening flew in the face of everything, -everything-, we knew. everything we saw as immutable fact, just another part of being human.
We weren't dying anymore. Oh, this isn't to say we couldn't die, we still could, but it usually required a bullet to the face to accomplish that. There was no more dying of old age, dying of disease and the like.
While we at the colonies were experiencing this miracle, we were quick to realize that the people that were still 'home' on Earth, they were still dying. In droves.
Disease were rampant, natural disasters, everywhere you looked there was death. It was like the Earth herself was suddenly out to get us.
You'd think at this point we might have finally realized what was happening, looking back it's easy to say that all the evidence was practically screaming in our faces.
But how could anyone have possibly jumped to such a conclusion as that? And so quickly? It's shaming to say now that it took us years longer to finally put two and two together.
To notice that the more people that escaped Earth, the more that the ones remaining died.
The clincher? The ones that managed to escape, they loaded up on ships diseased, dying, barely able to function, but as they grew further and further from Earth, from her grasp, they began to get better.
More than just 'better', what happened to them was nothing less than a complete reversal. Men and women seemingly aged before their time, withered to husks, seemed to grow younger with the passing of space, grow healthier and heartier.
It was one of these such passengers, in fact, that finally drew the correct conclusions, saw the patterns and found the answer.
Earth was killing us, our mother was murdering us, and we were murdering her. As more and more left, her surface grew barren, covered in waste lands and horrible storms. It was like seeing a wild animal in its final death throes.
A planet doesn't die that easily, though. Nor that quickly.
She's still alive, barely. We've rescued all the people we could, any left are dead. No possibly, or maybe about it. They. Are. Dead.
And, so is anyone foolhardy enough to take a ship too close to her, the minute they get within her grasp, so to speak, she drains them dry.
After a few dozen fleets of ships went silent, only to be found later floating lifeless, staffed by a crew of withered corpses, we learned our lesson and avoided our old home like the plague.
There are still some though that like to take that trip, for the very reason that most avoid it.
Some people grow weary of their life, they can't come to terms with no end in sight, no proper start and stop to what they are, and when they get fed up, when they can't take it anymore, they say their goodbyes and ship off for Earth. We like to imagine she understands what they do, and appreciates it.
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You know, I just worry these ideas are going to be pilfered at some point. This is an amazing idea for a movie or something. Is there any way to protect the people who thought of these wonderful prompts?
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
*Personal log, day Zero.*
Thirty years. That´s how long it took to build this ship. Fifty, if you count the construction of mankind´s first space dock, where the *Armstrong* itself was built. A colony ship. Fifteen hundred of Earth’s finest. And me. I kind of knew what to expect, but the shuttle ride was truly awe-inspiring. You cannot prepare for something like this. This ship is beyond massive, beyond impressive. Truly mankind´s greatest achievement ever. After Mars, this was the logical step. A permanent outpost on another world. There are supposed to be around ten thousand of us when we arrive. Ha. My crewmates will be quite busy.
It is still strange to me. I am almost sixty years old. This ship could very well be the place of my death. But after Eilene’s passing, I don’t care. I am lucky, I am a pioneer. Who would have guessed.
*Personal log, Day five*
I am exhausted. I haven’t worked this hard since that summer on the farm, almost forty years ago. This place has been frantic with activity for four days. Every system had to be checked after the launch. Luckily, the botanics look great. I´m so happy. I know all these younger people must doubt an old man. Why take me instead of a fertile man or woman? So far, I have proven them wrong.
The artificial gravity is agreeing with me. Some of those old-man-aches I have had for years actually feel like they are improving. If I keep feeling like this, I’m sure I’ll live to see our final destination. Twenty-nine years. I can do that.
*Personal log, Day thirty*
Wow. Something happened that hasn’t happened in a loooong time. I got hit on today. Some woman came by botanics looking to score some ingredients for a family-recipe-soup. I had to turn her down for the plants, but that didn’t stop her. Outer space must really like me. She was at least thirty years younger than me. Ha. She must have poor eye sight to mistake me for a good catch. Still, I appreciate the compliment.
*Personal log, Day ninety*
I am not imagining this. Something is happening to me. I am stronger than I have been in forty years. My mind is quicker, sharper. And I look good. Too good. It’s like the clock turned back twenty years. I have grown accustomed to grey hairs. I do not like them, but I have had to accept them. No longer. And the sheer volume of it, unbelievable. I know I have to tell someone, but I’m afraid of how they’ll react. I’m going to think about it some more.
*Personal log, Day one-hundred-and-eleven*
I am so fed up with being poked and prodded. And those damned doctors are still stumped. I look and feel like I’m twenty five years old now. Not just on the outside. Apparently, my telomeres are reversing. Whatever that means. I am the only one on the ship experiencing this effect to this degree. The others look at me funny, they are scared. Who can blame them?
*Personal log, Day five-hunded-sixteen*
Well, its established. I am immortal. We all are actually. I look like a twenty-five year old. All of us do. Some of the older people reverted back to this age. Must just stopped aging. We just sent word back to Earth. Let them figure out what’s going on. Ha! All that trouble. A five year selection process to find not only the most skilled, but also the most fertile. All that for nothing. We don’t die. We don’t even *need* to have children.
*Personal log, Day eleven-thousand-sixteen*
We are here. I did it. We lost zero people on the journey. No-one died of sickness. No fatal accidents. Most important, no-one died of old age. Titan is beautiful. We just raised the dome. Now my real job has begun. I feel like a cheat, I was selected on my ability to teach the younger people how to do this step, and now I’m going do it myself.
*Personal log, Day fifty-one-thousand-four-hundred-twelve*
The ship back to Earth is leaving in two days. The journey will take five years. I am the first to take it. I wonder what Earth will be like, with so few people there. I read about massive droughts and erosion. Still, everything is better than this. I just wonder what will happen to me there. Will I die the moment we get in orbit, crumbling to dust in an instant? Or will I have to live out the rest of my life there…
Eilene, my dear, I am coming home. Just a little while longer. Then we’ll see each other again.
|
You know, I just worry these ideas are going to be pilfered at some point. This is an amazing idea for a movie or something. Is there any way to protect the people who thought of these wonderful prompts?
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Year 2198.
"Captain!"
"Yes, Summers?"
"Message from the Cyrian High Council, Sir!"
"Well, don't stand there like a 3D McDonald's Sign, read it!"
Lieutenant Emma Summer coughed before starting to read the message, pausing once in a while to handle the difficult translation, being the only human to have mastered the Cyrian language she was quite invaluable to the mission.
"Message to/from Human commander, Cyrian High Order. Turn around. Leave. Final warning... err... socks? no, that's not right.... Ah, yes, punishment on death. Cyrian troops outnumbers Human Invasion by 10,000 to one. Last to retreat chance, surrender not tasty... Oh, acceptable."
Listening to the hard to follow string of words I finally conclude.
"Last chance to turn and run, we're outnumbered and they won't accept a surrender later on?"
"That would sum it up quite nicely, Captain."
"This species, they are rather... Reclusive... Aren't they?"
"Indeed, Sir."
"So, you'd say they don't know?"
"Not up to me to make such predictions, Sir, only a Lieutenant after all."
"And I'm your Captain.... Emma? Right?... And I asked you a question."
"Yes, Sir, it's Emma. And, Sir, I would definitely guess that they do, in fact, not know."
"Very well, thank you for your input Lieutenant Summers, you're dismissed."
As Lt Summers saluted and left I found myself wondering when the aliens would every learn. This is the 39th specie who is openly hostile towards humans from the first encounter. And they will become the 34th extinct specie in a matter of weeks.
Over the past 200 years humanity had discovered a great gift, or rather cure for a curse. Once sufficiently far away from our home planet, Terra or Earth as it was called, we became immortal. Not only would we heal from any wound short of total incineration we also reverted in age, turning back to appearing no older than 24.
With this discovery money suddenly poured into the space program and we advanced it more every three months than we had in the ten years prior, including the past three month period(s).
In record time we started to travel the universe, safe in knowing nothing can kill us, except our home world. If our spaceships needed outside repair we'd just send a guy out, it smarts a bit, being unprotected in space, but one got used to it.
It took us about fifty years to encounter our first alien specie, the Lytras as they called themselves. Their language oddly similar to Spanish. We hit it off great, they sold us scientific advancements, improving our spacecrafts drastically. In return we sold them chocolate, silk and pearls, apparently these were unique to earth and became extremely sought after by the Lytrian high society.
We were happy with our arrangements until they started demanding more and more for scraps we would soon figure out on our own. They even went so far as to demanding the exact origin of earth. Well, Humanity has never been a stranger to war, and the war that followed was bloody. A massacre of previously unheard proportions.
The Lythrian Empire had spanned across eight solar system, terraforming every planet into a virtual paradise. But in two years we had conquered and killed them all, not that we wanted to kill them, it's just that they didn't have a concept of giving up, they didn't have a word for surrender.
With so many planets to live and farm on the human population exploded, we went from 10 billion to 150 in 40 years. And we soon started exploring more of the galaxy, every new species we encountered either followed the Lythrians path of went straight up hostile.
We never sent an army. We sent one landing ship, containing exactly 1,000 soldiers, each armed with nano blade swords. Our victory was assured from the day we left Earth.
Immortal we're also impossible to defeat. And studying most of these species history we learn that compared to human history non of them truly understood war. Being the species with the greatest war experience might be a bit unfair. But what has once been started is very hard to stop.
And today, with this invasion, humanity will have conquered and populated over 50% of this galaxy, reaching a total population of 150,000 billion people.
We have truly become masters of this universe, and we are endless and eternal. Fear us, Aliens, and surrender, resistance is truly futile.
|
You know, I just worry these ideas are going to be pilfered at some point. This is an amazing idea for a movie or something. Is there any way to protect the people who thought of these wonderful prompts?
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
They knew. The bastards knew this whole time and they never told us. And if they didn't know, they had to at least have suspected.
In the 46 years since man first walked on the moon, how many people have died? How many never even needed to, just so they "could be sure"? 46 years since they sent a group of men with varying terminal illnesses on a mission they thought no one would come back from, only for them to return, miraculously cured. Cured and healthier than any man had any right to be.
What was the first thing they did? Experiment. They sent more manned missions, placed space stations in orbit around the planet, made calculations. It appeared that the outer limit of the Earth's Biological Degradation Field was just a little more than 100,000 miles. No one knew why and no one cared. What they cared about was the revelation that the Apollo 13 mission actually ran out of oxygen before they were even half way home. The entire crew was breathing vacuum. In fact, they were breathing out of *reflex*.
46 years it took them to realize that the moment a human entity travelled more than 100,000 miles from the earth, it became self sustaining. Almost immediately all need for food, water, oxygen or sleep disappeared, the body became harder than diamond and any freak wounds were almost instantly healed. But within a week of returning to the planet, those needs would return. Scientists couldn't explain it. Was it the unfiltered solar radiation? Was the entire planet dependent on a symbiotic relationship with its life forms? If that was the case then why didn't this immortality apply to the monkey or dogs that travelled similar distances?
The rich caught on first. Branson, Musk, they started pioneering "space tourism" in the hopes of easing us into immortality. But that's not how we found out, no. That's not why there's rioting in the streets. That's not why the rich are abandoning the planet to leave the poor behind, riding on solar winds into eternity.
No, it was that fucker Snowden. He leaked it all. 10 more years of secrecy, they say, and we would have had mass exodus. But with the best, brightest and richest fleeing en masse, they estimate we've been set back 80-90 years. That's *with* the help of the Good Samaritans who have intentionally stayed behind.
And where's Snowden in all this? Where's the one who only wanted to share the truth? Where can the angry mobs find him?
About 600,000 miles beyond Luna, of course. Making a beeline straight for Mars.
|
You know, I just worry these ideas are going to be pilfered at some point. This is an amazing idea for a movie or something. Is there any way to protect the people who thought of these wonderful prompts?
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Earth was just a quiz, and something is testing us. No other explanation suffices to explain what space has done to us.
The first crew to leave Earth's orbit spontaneously combusted in their shuttle shortly after passing the Lagrangian point. The clip that Earth received - only seven seconds of which contained flames before the system malfunctioned - suggests the flame originated from within Commander Ignacio's suit. Attempts to recreate potential fire hazards within the suit proved futile. No official explanation was given.
The second crew to leave Earth's orbit defied logic entirely. Again, problems started near the Lagrangian point, but the electrical arcs that destroyed the ship, which made a bright enough explosion to be seen without a telescope, were not the source of the concern. The real focus was on Pilot Foley, whose hair was estimated to be 50 feet long as it bunched up on the cabin walls. On top of the strangeness of its length, the hair moved enough to suggest that more than just the shock-induced convulsions were at play.
The third crew brought the answers, but they were equally fraught with tension. Almost exactly at the Lagrangian point, the shuttle vanished from comms and visuals. 15 minutes later, comms and visuals both confirmed that they were in low orbit over Mars. 10 minutes before that, Flight Engineer Spatz appeared from thin air in Ground Control. He was persistent in saying that he physically caused the anomaly. However, once back on Earth, he could no longer recreate his feat. He asked to be sent up again to meet his crew on Mars, and a secondary crew was assembled within a day. They reached Mars within the week.
This was the week that opened the universe to humanity's reach.
The crew who waited on the surface of Mars already understood their purpose. They shaped the landscape faster than would have been expected over the course of a thousand missions. By the end of the year, one million people had made a permanent settlement on the newly revitalized planet.
Humanity had a secret all along. We were the gods we had written about throughout the centuries. By simply leaving Earth, the elements became our toys. Water, fire, air, earth, and countless other materials and forces were simply bent by our will. Mars became a clone of Earth within a few years, but by then, countless other planets had been found by spacebenders and brought to the same level of beauty.
By the time we had finished covering the universe, we knew what the planets were. They were the tree, and we were its seeds. Earth was the embyro, and each new planet was a fraction of it, splitting itself like cellular mitosis. We gave birth to a new universe, where entropy started to reverse and the energy put in made more come out. And like all things born in this world, it had a limit. As the lungs of the universe expanded with energy, they eventually exhaled and the extra energy belonged to the "dark matter" once more. The living planets were sustained by us, but we could not sustain ourselves once they began feeding once more, so the planets withered with us, from an entire universe down to yet another lonesome seed. I write from atop this seed, hoping that I might live to see the next "apex adjournus" as we claw our way back up through the inventions we forgot about in our ascended state.
As it began, so it shall become.
|
You know, I just worry these ideas are going to be pilfered at some point. This is an amazing idea for a movie or something. Is there any way to protect the people who thought of these wonderful prompts?
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Year 2198.
"Captain!"
"Yes, Summers?"
"Message from the Cyrian High Council, Sir!"
"Well, don't stand there like a 3D McDonald's Sign, read it!"
Lieutenant Emma Summer coughed before starting to read the message, pausing once in a while to handle the difficult translation, being the only human to have mastered the Cyrian language she was quite invaluable to the mission.
"Message to/from Human commander, Cyrian High Order. Turn around. Leave. Final warning... err... socks? no, that's not right.... Ah, yes, punishment on death. Cyrian troops outnumbers Human Invasion by 10,000 to one. Last to retreat chance, surrender not tasty... Oh, acceptable."
Listening to the hard to follow string of words I finally conclude.
"Last chance to turn and run, we're outnumbered and they won't accept a surrender later on?"
"That would sum it up quite nicely, Captain."
"This species, they are rather... Reclusive... Aren't they?"
"Indeed, Sir."
"So, you'd say they don't know?"
"Not up to me to make such predictions, Sir, only a Lieutenant after all."
"And I'm your Captain.... Emma? Right?... And I asked you a question."
"Yes, Sir, it's Emma. And, Sir, I would definitely guess that they do, in fact, not know."
"Very well, thank you for your input Lieutenant Summers, you're dismissed."
As Lt Summers saluted and left I found myself wondering when the aliens would every learn. This is the 39th specie who is openly hostile towards humans from the first encounter. And they will become the 34th extinct specie in a matter of weeks.
Over the past 200 years humanity had discovered a great gift, or rather cure for a curse. Once sufficiently far away from our home planet, Terra or Earth as it was called, we became immortal. Not only would we heal from any wound short of total incineration we also reverted in age, turning back to appearing no older than 24.
With this discovery money suddenly poured into the space program and we advanced it more every three months than we had in the ten years prior, including the past three month period(s).
In record time we started to travel the universe, safe in knowing nothing can kill us, except our home world. If our spaceships needed outside repair we'd just send a guy out, it smarts a bit, being unprotected in space, but one got used to it.
It took us about fifty years to encounter our first alien specie, the Lytras as they called themselves. Their language oddly similar to Spanish. We hit it off great, they sold us scientific advancements, improving our spacecrafts drastically. In return we sold them chocolate, silk and pearls, apparently these were unique to earth and became extremely sought after by the Lytrian high society.
We were happy with our arrangements until they started demanding more and more for scraps we would soon figure out on our own. They even went so far as to demanding the exact origin of earth. Well, Humanity has never been a stranger to war, and the war that followed was bloody. A massacre of previously unheard proportions.
The Lythrian Empire had spanned across eight solar system, terraforming every planet into a virtual paradise. But in two years we had conquered and killed them all, not that we wanted to kill them, it's just that they didn't have a concept of giving up, they didn't have a word for surrender.
With so many planets to live and farm on the human population exploded, we went from 10 billion to 150 in 40 years. And we soon started exploring more of the galaxy, every new species we encountered either followed the Lythrians path of went straight up hostile.
We never sent an army. We sent one landing ship, containing exactly 1,000 soldiers, each armed with nano blade swords. Our victory was assured from the day we left Earth.
Immortal we're also impossible to defeat. And studying most of these species history we learn that compared to human history non of them truly understood war. Being the species with the greatest war experience might be a bit unfair. But what has once been started is very hard to stop.
And today, with this invasion, humanity will have conquered and populated over 50% of this galaxy, reaching a total population of 150,000 billion people.
We have truly become masters of this universe, and we are endless and eternal. Fear us, Aliens, and surrender, resistance is truly futile.
|
*Personal log, day Zero.*
Thirty years. That´s how long it took to build this ship. Fifty, if you count the construction of mankind´s first space dock, where the *Armstrong* itself was built. A colony ship. Fifteen hundred of Earth’s finest. And me. I kind of knew what to expect, but the shuttle ride was truly awe-inspiring. You cannot prepare for something like this. This ship is beyond massive, beyond impressive. Truly mankind´s greatest achievement ever. After Mars, this was the logical step. A permanent outpost on another world. There are supposed to be around ten thousand of us when we arrive. Ha. My crewmates will be quite busy.
It is still strange to me. I am almost sixty years old. This ship could very well be the place of my death. But after Eilene’s passing, I don’t care. I am lucky, I am a pioneer. Who would have guessed.
*Personal log, Day five*
I am exhausted. I haven’t worked this hard since that summer on the farm, almost forty years ago. This place has been frantic with activity for four days. Every system had to be checked after the launch. Luckily, the botanics look great. I´m so happy. I know all these younger people must doubt an old man. Why take me instead of a fertile man or woman? So far, I have proven them wrong.
The artificial gravity is agreeing with me. Some of those old-man-aches I have had for years actually feel like they are improving. If I keep feeling like this, I’m sure I’ll live to see our final destination. Twenty-nine years. I can do that.
*Personal log, Day thirty*
Wow. Something happened that hasn’t happened in a loooong time. I got hit on today. Some woman came by botanics looking to score some ingredients for a family-recipe-soup. I had to turn her down for the plants, but that didn’t stop her. Outer space must really like me. She was at least thirty years younger than me. Ha. She must have poor eye sight to mistake me for a good catch. Still, I appreciate the compliment.
*Personal log, Day ninety*
I am not imagining this. Something is happening to me. I am stronger than I have been in forty years. My mind is quicker, sharper. And I look good. Too good. It’s like the clock turned back twenty years. I have grown accustomed to grey hairs. I do not like them, but I have had to accept them. No longer. And the sheer volume of it, unbelievable. I know I have to tell someone, but I’m afraid of how they’ll react. I’m going to think about it some more.
*Personal log, Day one-hundred-and-eleven*
I am so fed up with being poked and prodded. And those damned doctors are still stumped. I look and feel like I’m twenty five years old now. Not just on the outside. Apparently, my telomeres are reversing. Whatever that means. I am the only one on the ship experiencing this effect to this degree. The others look at me funny, they are scared. Who can blame them?
*Personal log, Day five-hunded-sixteen*
Well, its established. I am immortal. We all are actually. I look like a twenty-five year old. All of us do. Some of the older people reverted back to this age. Must just stopped aging. We just sent word back to Earth. Let them figure out what’s going on. Ha! All that trouble. A five year selection process to find not only the most skilled, but also the most fertile. All that for nothing. We don’t die. We don’t even *need* to have children.
*Personal log, Day eleven-thousand-sixteen*
We are here. I did it. We lost zero people on the journey. No-one died of sickness. No fatal accidents. Most important, no-one died of old age. Titan is beautiful. We just raised the dome. Now my real job has begun. I feel like a cheat, I was selected on my ability to teach the younger people how to do this step, and now I’m going do it myself.
*Personal log, Day fifty-one-thousand-four-hundred-twelve*
The ship back to Earth is leaving in two days. The journey will take five years. I am the first to take it. I wonder what Earth will be like, with so few people there. I read about massive droughts and erosion. Still, everything is better than this. I just wonder what will happen to me there. Will I die the moment we get in orbit, crumbling to dust in an instant? Or will I have to live out the rest of my life there…
Eilene, my dear, I am coming home. Just a little while longer. Then we’ll see each other again.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Year 2198.
"Captain!"
"Yes, Summers?"
"Message from the Cyrian High Council, Sir!"
"Well, don't stand there like a 3D McDonald's Sign, read it!"
Lieutenant Emma Summer coughed before starting to read the message, pausing once in a while to handle the difficult translation, being the only human to have mastered the Cyrian language she was quite invaluable to the mission.
"Message to/from Human commander, Cyrian High Order. Turn around. Leave. Final warning... err... socks? no, that's not right.... Ah, yes, punishment on death. Cyrian troops outnumbers Human Invasion by 10,000 to one. Last to retreat chance, surrender not tasty... Oh, acceptable."
Listening to the hard to follow string of words I finally conclude.
"Last chance to turn and run, we're outnumbered and they won't accept a surrender later on?"
"That would sum it up quite nicely, Captain."
"This species, they are rather... Reclusive... Aren't they?"
"Indeed, Sir."
"So, you'd say they don't know?"
"Not up to me to make such predictions, Sir, only a Lieutenant after all."
"And I'm your Captain.... Emma? Right?... And I asked you a question."
"Yes, Sir, it's Emma. And, Sir, I would definitely guess that they do, in fact, not know."
"Very well, thank you for your input Lieutenant Summers, you're dismissed."
As Lt Summers saluted and left I found myself wondering when the aliens would every learn. This is the 39th specie who is openly hostile towards humans from the first encounter. And they will become the 34th extinct specie in a matter of weeks.
Over the past 200 years humanity had discovered a great gift, or rather cure for a curse. Once sufficiently far away from our home planet, Terra or Earth as it was called, we became immortal. Not only would we heal from any wound short of total incineration we also reverted in age, turning back to appearing no older than 24.
With this discovery money suddenly poured into the space program and we advanced it more every three months than we had in the ten years prior, including the past three month period(s).
In record time we started to travel the universe, safe in knowing nothing can kill us, except our home world. If our spaceships needed outside repair we'd just send a guy out, it smarts a bit, being unprotected in space, but one got used to it.
It took us about fifty years to encounter our first alien specie, the Lytras as they called themselves. Their language oddly similar to Spanish. We hit it off great, they sold us scientific advancements, improving our spacecrafts drastically. In return we sold them chocolate, silk and pearls, apparently these were unique to earth and became extremely sought after by the Lytrian high society.
We were happy with our arrangements until they started demanding more and more for scraps we would soon figure out on our own. They even went so far as to demanding the exact origin of earth. Well, Humanity has never been a stranger to war, and the war that followed was bloody. A massacre of previously unheard proportions.
The Lythrian Empire had spanned across eight solar system, terraforming every planet into a virtual paradise. But in two years we had conquered and killed them all, not that we wanted to kill them, it's just that they didn't have a concept of giving up, they didn't have a word for surrender.
With so many planets to live and farm on the human population exploded, we went from 10 billion to 150 in 40 years. And we soon started exploring more of the galaxy, every new species we encountered either followed the Lythrians path of went straight up hostile.
We never sent an army. We sent one landing ship, containing exactly 1,000 soldiers, each armed with nano blade swords. Our victory was assured from the day we left Earth.
Immortal we're also impossible to defeat. And studying most of these species history we learn that compared to human history non of them truly understood war. Being the species with the greatest war experience might be a bit unfair. But what has once been started is very hard to stop.
And today, with this invasion, humanity will have conquered and populated over 50% of this galaxy, reaching a total population of 150,000 billion people.
We have truly become masters of this universe, and we are endless and eternal. Fear us, Aliens, and surrender, resistance is truly futile.
|
40 years until I could possibly return home. That's how deep I was. At this point I really couldn't tell whether I was existing that far out into this void or if it was merely the depth at which my isolation had allowed my mind to drift...
I'd left loneliness far behind, that madness certainly took it's toll, but once you tread it's waters long enough you learn that there's no need to resist it, but to become it. Without time constantly hanging over you all you have is existence.
Simple being.
The infinity. Just as space has no walls, you quickly learn that your mind does not either and without their restrictions your consciousness is forced to reevaluate. Immortality becomes a silly word, defined by the cyclical nature of living in orbit, for without orbit, without time, Immortality just is. There is nothing new, nothing old, simply just consciousness.
Pure consciousness.
It quickly becomes devoid of emotion, thought, opinion. Everything just is. Is as I am, and I am as it is.
And I shall drift as such, for all eternity, there's no longer a need to go home, it's far too peaceful out here.
It's quite astonishing how well everyone took the news. Of course at first there was mass panic, I mean how could their not be. We had found our solution to man's ever present fear. We could finally have our endless lives. But as the riots fell, as the pundits began to hush, when it was really thought out by us all.
We realized.
Our existence is meaningless without experiences.
To escape the grasp of our Mother's love, to run away off into the darkness so as delay the inevitable, it lead to a life of nothing.
Isolation.
It gives us no reason to exist.
For everything that we are able to encounter in whatever you may think this life to be, we must be thankful to have been granted this opportunity. And so, for the others that will come after us, we allow our lives to be taken for them.
Certainly some still leave.
Some return.
Others are never heard from again.
Myth has risen from the days of old, the Buddhists have mostly left our planet, it is now said there is a monastery somewhere out in the Milky Way.
But now that we know, now that it is accepted, we all seem to be making sure that we preserve this, forever.
For now, through Mother Earth, we truly are capable of Immortality, for she will continue to bare us, so long as we stay in the comfort of her love.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
They knew. The bastards knew this whole time and they never told us. And if they didn't know, they had to at least have suspected.
In the 46 years since man first walked on the moon, how many people have died? How many never even needed to, just so they "could be sure"? 46 years since they sent a group of men with varying terminal illnesses on a mission they thought no one would come back from, only for them to return, miraculously cured. Cured and healthier than any man had any right to be.
What was the first thing they did? Experiment. They sent more manned missions, placed space stations in orbit around the planet, made calculations. It appeared that the outer limit of the Earth's Biological Degradation Field was just a little more than 100,000 miles. No one knew why and no one cared. What they cared about was the revelation that the Apollo 13 mission actually ran out of oxygen before they were even half way home. The entire crew was breathing vacuum. In fact, they were breathing out of *reflex*.
46 years it took them to realize that the moment a human entity travelled more than 100,000 miles from the earth, it became self sustaining. Almost immediately all need for food, water, oxygen or sleep disappeared, the body became harder than diamond and any freak wounds were almost instantly healed. But within a week of returning to the planet, those needs would return. Scientists couldn't explain it. Was it the unfiltered solar radiation? Was the entire planet dependent on a symbiotic relationship with its life forms? If that was the case then why didn't this immortality apply to the monkey or dogs that travelled similar distances?
The rich caught on first. Branson, Musk, they started pioneering "space tourism" in the hopes of easing us into immortality. But that's not how we found out, no. That's not why there's rioting in the streets. That's not why the rich are abandoning the planet to leave the poor behind, riding on solar winds into eternity.
No, it was that fucker Snowden. He leaked it all. 10 more years of secrecy, they say, and we would have had mass exodus. But with the best, brightest and richest fleeing en masse, they estimate we've been set back 80-90 years. That's *with* the help of the Good Samaritans who have intentionally stayed behind.
And where's Snowden in all this? Where's the one who only wanted to share the truth? Where can the angry mobs find him?
About 600,000 miles beyond Luna, of course. Making a beeline straight for Mars.
|
40 years until I could possibly return home. That's how deep I was. At this point I really couldn't tell whether I was existing that far out into this void or if it was merely the depth at which my isolation had allowed my mind to drift...
I'd left loneliness far behind, that madness certainly took it's toll, but once you tread it's waters long enough you learn that there's no need to resist it, but to become it. Without time constantly hanging over you all you have is existence.
Simple being.
The infinity. Just as space has no walls, you quickly learn that your mind does not either and without their restrictions your consciousness is forced to reevaluate. Immortality becomes a silly word, defined by the cyclical nature of living in orbit, for without orbit, without time, Immortality just is. There is nothing new, nothing old, simply just consciousness.
Pure consciousness.
It quickly becomes devoid of emotion, thought, opinion. Everything just is. Is as I am, and I am as it is.
And I shall drift as such, for all eternity, there's no longer a need to go home, it's far too peaceful out here.
It's quite astonishing how well everyone took the news. Of course at first there was mass panic, I mean how could their not be. We had found our solution to man's ever present fear. We could finally have our endless lives. But as the riots fell, as the pundits began to hush, when it was really thought out by us all.
We realized.
Our existence is meaningless without experiences.
To escape the grasp of our Mother's love, to run away off into the darkness so as delay the inevitable, it lead to a life of nothing.
Isolation.
It gives us no reason to exist.
For everything that we are able to encounter in whatever you may think this life to be, we must be thankful to have been granted this opportunity. And so, for the others that will come after us, we allow our lives to be taken for them.
Certainly some still leave.
Some return.
Others are never heard from again.
Myth has risen from the days of old, the Buddhists have mostly left our planet, it is now said there is a monastery somewhere out in the Milky Way.
But now that we know, now that it is accepted, we all seem to be making sure that we preserve this, forever.
For now, through Mother Earth, we truly are capable of Immortality, for she will continue to bare us, so long as we stay in the comfort of her love.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Earth was just a quiz, and something is testing us. No other explanation suffices to explain what space has done to us.
The first crew to leave Earth's orbit spontaneously combusted in their shuttle shortly after passing the Lagrangian point. The clip that Earth received - only seven seconds of which contained flames before the system malfunctioned - suggests the flame originated from within Commander Ignacio's suit. Attempts to recreate potential fire hazards within the suit proved futile. No official explanation was given.
The second crew to leave Earth's orbit defied logic entirely. Again, problems started near the Lagrangian point, but the electrical arcs that destroyed the ship, which made a bright enough explosion to be seen without a telescope, were not the source of the concern. The real focus was on Pilot Foley, whose hair was estimated to be 50 feet long as it bunched up on the cabin walls. On top of the strangeness of its length, the hair moved enough to suggest that more than just the shock-induced convulsions were at play.
The third crew brought the answers, but they were equally fraught with tension. Almost exactly at the Lagrangian point, the shuttle vanished from comms and visuals. 15 minutes later, comms and visuals both confirmed that they were in low orbit over Mars. 10 minutes before that, Flight Engineer Spatz appeared from thin air in Ground Control. He was persistent in saying that he physically caused the anomaly. However, once back on Earth, he could no longer recreate his feat. He asked to be sent up again to meet his crew on Mars, and a secondary crew was assembled within a day. They reached Mars within the week.
This was the week that opened the universe to humanity's reach.
The crew who waited on the surface of Mars already understood their purpose. They shaped the landscape faster than would have been expected over the course of a thousand missions. By the end of the year, one million people had made a permanent settlement on the newly revitalized planet.
Humanity had a secret all along. We were the gods we had written about throughout the centuries. By simply leaving Earth, the elements became our toys. Water, fire, air, earth, and countless other materials and forces were simply bent by our will. Mars became a clone of Earth within a few years, but by then, countless other planets had been found by spacebenders and brought to the same level of beauty.
By the time we had finished covering the universe, we knew what the planets were. They were the tree, and we were its seeds. Earth was the embyro, and each new planet was a fraction of it, splitting itself like cellular mitosis. We gave birth to a new universe, where entropy started to reverse and the energy put in made more come out. And like all things born in this world, it had a limit. As the lungs of the universe expanded with energy, they eventually exhaled and the extra energy belonged to the "dark matter" once more. The living planets were sustained by us, but we could not sustain ourselves once they began feeding once more, so the planets withered with us, from an entire universe down to yet another lonesome seed. I write from atop this seed, hoping that I might live to see the next "apex adjournus" as we claw our way back up through the inventions we forgot about in our ascended state.
As it began, so it shall become.
|
40 years until I could possibly return home. That's how deep I was. At this point I really couldn't tell whether I was existing that far out into this void or if it was merely the depth at which my isolation had allowed my mind to drift...
I'd left loneliness far behind, that madness certainly took it's toll, but once you tread it's waters long enough you learn that there's no need to resist it, but to become it. Without time constantly hanging over you all you have is existence.
Simple being.
The infinity. Just as space has no walls, you quickly learn that your mind does not either and without their restrictions your consciousness is forced to reevaluate. Immortality becomes a silly word, defined by the cyclical nature of living in orbit, for without orbit, without time, Immortality just is. There is nothing new, nothing old, simply just consciousness.
Pure consciousness.
It quickly becomes devoid of emotion, thought, opinion. Everything just is. Is as I am, and I am as it is.
And I shall drift as such, for all eternity, there's no longer a need to go home, it's far too peaceful out here.
It's quite astonishing how well everyone took the news. Of course at first there was mass panic, I mean how could their not be. We had found our solution to man's ever present fear. We could finally have our endless lives. But as the riots fell, as the pundits began to hush, when it was really thought out by us all.
We realized.
Our existence is meaningless without experiences.
To escape the grasp of our Mother's love, to run away off into the darkness so as delay the inevitable, it lead to a life of nothing.
Isolation.
It gives us no reason to exist.
For everything that we are able to encounter in whatever you may think this life to be, we must be thankful to have been granted this opportunity. And so, for the others that will come after us, we allow our lives to be taken for them.
Certainly some still leave.
Some return.
Others are never heard from again.
Myth has risen from the days of old, the Buddhists have mostly left our planet, it is now said there is a monastery somewhere out in the Milky Way.
But now that we know, now that it is accepted, we all seem to be making sure that we preserve this, forever.
For now, through Mother Earth, we truly are capable of Immortality, for she will continue to bare us, so long as we stay in the comfort of her love.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Year 2198.
"Captain!"
"Yes, Summers?"
"Message from the Cyrian High Council, Sir!"
"Well, don't stand there like a 3D McDonald's Sign, read it!"
Lieutenant Emma Summer coughed before starting to read the message, pausing once in a while to handle the difficult translation, being the only human to have mastered the Cyrian language she was quite invaluable to the mission.
"Message to/from Human commander, Cyrian High Order. Turn around. Leave. Final warning... err... socks? no, that's not right.... Ah, yes, punishment on death. Cyrian troops outnumbers Human Invasion by 10,000 to one. Last to retreat chance, surrender not tasty... Oh, acceptable."
Listening to the hard to follow string of words I finally conclude.
"Last chance to turn and run, we're outnumbered and they won't accept a surrender later on?"
"That would sum it up quite nicely, Captain."
"This species, they are rather... Reclusive... Aren't they?"
"Indeed, Sir."
"So, you'd say they don't know?"
"Not up to me to make such predictions, Sir, only a Lieutenant after all."
"And I'm your Captain.... Emma? Right?... And I asked you a question."
"Yes, Sir, it's Emma. And, Sir, I would definitely guess that they do, in fact, not know."
"Very well, thank you for your input Lieutenant Summers, you're dismissed."
As Lt Summers saluted and left I found myself wondering when the aliens would every learn. This is the 39th specie who is openly hostile towards humans from the first encounter. And they will become the 34th extinct specie in a matter of weeks.
Over the past 200 years humanity had discovered a great gift, or rather cure for a curse. Once sufficiently far away from our home planet, Terra or Earth as it was called, we became immortal. Not only would we heal from any wound short of total incineration we also reverted in age, turning back to appearing no older than 24.
With this discovery money suddenly poured into the space program and we advanced it more every three months than we had in the ten years prior, including the past three month period(s).
In record time we started to travel the universe, safe in knowing nothing can kill us, except our home world. If our spaceships needed outside repair we'd just send a guy out, it smarts a bit, being unprotected in space, but one got used to it.
It took us about fifty years to encounter our first alien specie, the Lytras as they called themselves. Their language oddly similar to Spanish. We hit it off great, they sold us scientific advancements, improving our spacecrafts drastically. In return we sold them chocolate, silk and pearls, apparently these were unique to earth and became extremely sought after by the Lytrian high society.
We were happy with our arrangements until they started demanding more and more for scraps we would soon figure out on our own. They even went so far as to demanding the exact origin of earth. Well, Humanity has never been a stranger to war, and the war that followed was bloody. A massacre of previously unheard proportions.
The Lythrian Empire had spanned across eight solar system, terraforming every planet into a virtual paradise. But in two years we had conquered and killed them all, not that we wanted to kill them, it's just that they didn't have a concept of giving up, they didn't have a word for surrender.
With so many planets to live and farm on the human population exploded, we went from 10 billion to 150 in 40 years. And we soon started exploring more of the galaxy, every new species we encountered either followed the Lythrians path of went straight up hostile.
We never sent an army. We sent one landing ship, containing exactly 1,000 soldiers, each armed with nano blade swords. Our victory was assured from the day we left Earth.
Immortal we're also impossible to defeat. And studying most of these species history we learn that compared to human history non of them truly understood war. Being the species with the greatest war experience might be a bit unfair. But what has once been started is very hard to stop.
And today, with this invasion, humanity will have conquered and populated over 50% of this galaxy, reaching a total population of 150,000 billion people.
We have truly become masters of this universe, and we are endless and eternal. Fear us, Aliens, and surrender, resistance is truly futile.
|
"They must know..." she collapsed onto her knees.
Rachel turned toward me on the NOVAK56, our interstellar spaceship, the 56th of its kind. The 55 that came before us were manned missions exploring our own galaxy. This time our mission was special. Travel to a planet core left after a violent supernova, in the outer rim of the Andromeda Galaxy. Scientists said the chances of finding such a residual remnant were 1 in ever 8 billion stars. I was young at the time when they asked me to go. I'm still young. Time dilation is quite whimsical in that way. The same old corporate assholes who send young inexperienced engineers on treacherous missions end up dead by the time the mission is complete.
"You know we can't go back Rachel." I walked up to her and put my hand on her shoulder. As I looked into her eyes I couldn't help but wonder how my wife was doing on Earth. Everyday I try to convince myself that she's waiting for me. But every NOVAK astronaut would be fucking stupid not to either leave or divorce their significant other before leaving Earth. I was a part of the "fucking stupid" crowd. I don't know what I was thinking. I am naive enough to think my wife would let her pussy dry up for another 24 years waiting for me.
But none of that matters now.
I stared intently at Rachel's trembling hand as she began moving toward pilot control. I grabbed her hand and led my finger comfortingly between hers. As our palms touched, I smiled at her.
"You know we can't go back." I looked out at the sunken planet core again to see its massive molten eyes sown shut by the heat of the supernova. It's rigid metallic flesh pulsating slowly in a last ditched effort to form a gravitational shield to protect itself.
But still her hand began making it's way back to pilot control. This time I slapped her hard across the face. She woke her up.
"Hope, what do you think you're doing?" I was taken aback. Her voice was absolutely calm.
"Hope, I don't think you realize what's happening here." She began pacing around the room, eyes locked onto mine.
"If Earth is a living organisms that means it needs a fuel source." She stopped and looked at her reflection against the window. "Earth has been cultivating us, setting up the right biological conditions for a robust, intellectually superior species that has both mass and longevity."
She looked back at me in horror. "It's using us. Eating us. It's consuming just enough so that our diet and medicine allows us to extend our life expectancy."
She walked up to me, and this time she put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me. I was in shock, Rachel could see it all over my face.
"Hope, in the last 100 years our life expectancy across the world has not gone beyond 122 years... Which means Mother Earth is probably tired of nibbling off of us.
She's preparing for a mass extinction."
I fell on my back. I couldn't stand.
General relativity, special relativity, the Lorentz factors... Do these equations even make sense, given our potential life span might be far greater than our life span can tolerant on earth.
"She's bored Hope, she might be more human than we thought."
I stood up quickly and began rotating the ship back to the Earth position vector.
(Dramatic Man)
What... or Who is Earth. How has she been draining our life force. Can unmasking her true nature reveal to us, the secrets to our existence? What will our heroes encounter next?
Find out next of the next episode of...NOVAK56.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
They knew. The bastards knew this whole time and they never told us. And if they didn't know, they had to at least have suspected.
In the 46 years since man first walked on the moon, how many people have died? How many never even needed to, just so they "could be sure"? 46 years since they sent a group of men with varying terminal illnesses on a mission they thought no one would come back from, only for them to return, miraculously cured. Cured and healthier than any man had any right to be.
What was the first thing they did? Experiment. They sent more manned missions, placed space stations in orbit around the planet, made calculations. It appeared that the outer limit of the Earth's Biological Degradation Field was just a little more than 100,000 miles. No one knew why and no one cared. What they cared about was the revelation that the Apollo 13 mission actually ran out of oxygen before they were even half way home. The entire crew was breathing vacuum. In fact, they were breathing out of *reflex*.
46 years it took them to realize that the moment a human entity travelled more than 100,000 miles from the earth, it became self sustaining. Almost immediately all need for food, water, oxygen or sleep disappeared, the body became harder than diamond and any freak wounds were almost instantly healed. But within a week of returning to the planet, those needs would return. Scientists couldn't explain it. Was it the unfiltered solar radiation? Was the entire planet dependent on a symbiotic relationship with its life forms? If that was the case then why didn't this immortality apply to the monkey or dogs that travelled similar distances?
The rich caught on first. Branson, Musk, they started pioneering "space tourism" in the hopes of easing us into immortality. But that's not how we found out, no. That's not why there's rioting in the streets. That's not why the rich are abandoning the planet to leave the poor behind, riding on solar winds into eternity.
No, it was that fucker Snowden. He leaked it all. 10 more years of secrecy, they say, and we would have had mass exodus. But with the best, brightest and richest fleeing en masse, they estimate we've been set back 80-90 years. That's *with* the help of the Good Samaritans who have intentionally stayed behind.
And where's Snowden in all this? Where's the one who only wanted to share the truth? Where can the angry mobs find him?
About 600,000 miles beyond Luna, of course. Making a beeline straight for Mars.
|
"They must know..." she collapsed onto her knees.
Rachel turned toward me on the NOVAK56, our interstellar spaceship, the 56th of its kind. The 55 that came before us were manned missions exploring our own galaxy. This time our mission was special. Travel to a planet core left after a violent supernova, in the outer rim of the Andromeda Galaxy. Scientists said the chances of finding such a residual remnant were 1 in ever 8 billion stars. I was young at the time when they asked me to go. I'm still young. Time dilation is quite whimsical in that way. The same old corporate assholes who send young inexperienced engineers on treacherous missions end up dead by the time the mission is complete.
"You know we can't go back Rachel." I walked up to her and put my hand on her shoulder. As I looked into her eyes I couldn't help but wonder how my wife was doing on Earth. Everyday I try to convince myself that she's waiting for me. But every NOVAK astronaut would be fucking stupid not to either leave or divorce their significant other before leaving Earth. I was a part of the "fucking stupid" crowd. I don't know what I was thinking. I am naive enough to think my wife would let her pussy dry up for another 24 years waiting for me.
But none of that matters now.
I stared intently at Rachel's trembling hand as she began moving toward pilot control. I grabbed her hand and led my finger comfortingly between hers. As our palms touched, I smiled at her.
"You know we can't go back." I looked out at the sunken planet core again to see its massive molten eyes sown shut by the heat of the supernova. It's rigid metallic flesh pulsating slowly in a last ditched effort to form a gravitational shield to protect itself.
But still her hand began making it's way back to pilot control. This time I slapped her hard across the face. She woke her up.
"Hope, what do you think you're doing?" I was taken aback. Her voice was absolutely calm.
"Hope, I don't think you realize what's happening here." She began pacing around the room, eyes locked onto mine.
"If Earth is a living organisms that means it needs a fuel source." She stopped and looked at her reflection against the window. "Earth has been cultivating us, setting up the right biological conditions for a robust, intellectually superior species that has both mass and longevity."
She looked back at me in horror. "It's using us. Eating us. It's consuming just enough so that our diet and medicine allows us to extend our life expectancy."
She walked up to me, and this time she put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me. I was in shock, Rachel could see it all over my face.
"Hope, in the last 100 years our life expectancy across the world has not gone beyond 122 years... Which means Mother Earth is probably tired of nibbling off of us.
She's preparing for a mass extinction."
I fell on my back. I couldn't stand.
General relativity, special relativity, the Lorentz factors... Do these equations even make sense, given our potential life span might be far greater than our life span can tolerant on earth.
"She's bored Hope, she might be more human than we thought."
I stood up quickly and began rotating the ship back to the Earth position vector.
(Dramatic Man)
What... or Who is Earth. How has she been draining our life force. Can unmasking her true nature reveal to us, the secrets to our existence? What will our heroes encounter next?
Find out next of the next episode of...NOVAK56.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Earth was just a quiz, and something is testing us. No other explanation suffices to explain what space has done to us.
The first crew to leave Earth's orbit spontaneously combusted in their shuttle shortly after passing the Lagrangian point. The clip that Earth received - only seven seconds of which contained flames before the system malfunctioned - suggests the flame originated from within Commander Ignacio's suit. Attempts to recreate potential fire hazards within the suit proved futile. No official explanation was given.
The second crew to leave Earth's orbit defied logic entirely. Again, problems started near the Lagrangian point, but the electrical arcs that destroyed the ship, which made a bright enough explosion to be seen without a telescope, were not the source of the concern. The real focus was on Pilot Foley, whose hair was estimated to be 50 feet long as it bunched up on the cabin walls. On top of the strangeness of its length, the hair moved enough to suggest that more than just the shock-induced convulsions were at play.
The third crew brought the answers, but they were equally fraught with tension. Almost exactly at the Lagrangian point, the shuttle vanished from comms and visuals. 15 minutes later, comms and visuals both confirmed that they were in low orbit over Mars. 10 minutes before that, Flight Engineer Spatz appeared from thin air in Ground Control. He was persistent in saying that he physically caused the anomaly. However, once back on Earth, he could no longer recreate his feat. He asked to be sent up again to meet his crew on Mars, and a secondary crew was assembled within a day. They reached Mars within the week.
This was the week that opened the universe to humanity's reach.
The crew who waited on the surface of Mars already understood their purpose. They shaped the landscape faster than would have been expected over the course of a thousand missions. By the end of the year, one million people had made a permanent settlement on the newly revitalized planet.
Humanity had a secret all along. We were the gods we had written about throughout the centuries. By simply leaving Earth, the elements became our toys. Water, fire, air, earth, and countless other materials and forces were simply bent by our will. Mars became a clone of Earth within a few years, but by then, countless other planets had been found by spacebenders and brought to the same level of beauty.
By the time we had finished covering the universe, we knew what the planets were. They were the tree, and we were its seeds. Earth was the embyro, and each new planet was a fraction of it, splitting itself like cellular mitosis. We gave birth to a new universe, where entropy started to reverse and the energy put in made more come out. And like all things born in this world, it had a limit. As the lungs of the universe expanded with energy, they eventually exhaled and the extra energy belonged to the "dark matter" once more. The living planets were sustained by us, but we could not sustain ourselves once they began feeding once more, so the planets withered with us, from an entire universe down to yet another lonesome seed. I write from atop this seed, hoping that I might live to see the next "apex adjournus" as we claw our way back up through the inventions we forgot about in our ascended state.
As it began, so it shall become.
|
"They must know..." she collapsed onto her knees.
Rachel turned toward me on the NOVAK56, our interstellar spaceship, the 56th of its kind. The 55 that came before us were manned missions exploring our own galaxy. This time our mission was special. Travel to a planet core left after a violent supernova, in the outer rim of the Andromeda Galaxy. Scientists said the chances of finding such a residual remnant were 1 in ever 8 billion stars. I was young at the time when they asked me to go. I'm still young. Time dilation is quite whimsical in that way. The same old corporate assholes who send young inexperienced engineers on treacherous missions end up dead by the time the mission is complete.
"You know we can't go back Rachel." I walked up to her and put my hand on her shoulder. As I looked into her eyes I couldn't help but wonder how my wife was doing on Earth. Everyday I try to convince myself that she's waiting for me. But every NOVAK astronaut would be fucking stupid not to either leave or divorce their significant other before leaving Earth. I was a part of the "fucking stupid" crowd. I don't know what I was thinking. I am naive enough to think my wife would let her pussy dry up for another 24 years waiting for me.
But none of that matters now.
I stared intently at Rachel's trembling hand as she began moving toward pilot control. I grabbed her hand and led my finger comfortingly between hers. As our palms touched, I smiled at her.
"You know we can't go back." I looked out at the sunken planet core again to see its massive molten eyes sown shut by the heat of the supernova. It's rigid metallic flesh pulsating slowly in a last ditched effort to form a gravitational shield to protect itself.
But still her hand began making it's way back to pilot control. This time I slapped her hard across the face. She woke her up.
"Hope, what do you think you're doing?" I was taken aback. Her voice was absolutely calm.
"Hope, I don't think you realize what's happening here." She began pacing around the room, eyes locked onto mine.
"If Earth is a living organisms that means it needs a fuel source." She stopped and looked at her reflection against the window. "Earth has been cultivating us, setting up the right biological conditions for a robust, intellectually superior species that has both mass and longevity."
She looked back at me in horror. "It's using us. Eating us. It's consuming just enough so that our diet and medicine allows us to extend our life expectancy."
She walked up to me, and this time she put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me. I was in shock, Rachel could see it all over my face.
"Hope, in the last 100 years our life expectancy across the world has not gone beyond 122 years... Which means Mother Earth is probably tired of nibbling off of us.
She's preparing for a mass extinction."
I fell on my back. I couldn't stand.
General relativity, special relativity, the Lorentz factors... Do these equations even make sense, given our potential life span might be far greater than our life span can tolerant on earth.
"She's bored Hope, she might be more human than we thought."
I stood up quickly and began rotating the ship back to the Earth position vector.
(Dramatic Man)
What... or Who is Earth. How has she been draining our life force. Can unmasking her true nature reveal to us, the secrets to our existence? What will our heroes encounter next?
Find out next of the next episode of...NOVAK56.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
They knew. The bastards knew this whole time and they never told us. And if they didn't know, they had to at least have suspected.
In the 46 years since man first walked on the moon, how many people have died? How many never even needed to, just so they "could be sure"? 46 years since they sent a group of men with varying terminal illnesses on a mission they thought no one would come back from, only for them to return, miraculously cured. Cured and healthier than any man had any right to be.
What was the first thing they did? Experiment. They sent more manned missions, placed space stations in orbit around the planet, made calculations. It appeared that the outer limit of the Earth's Biological Degradation Field was just a little more than 100,000 miles. No one knew why and no one cared. What they cared about was the revelation that the Apollo 13 mission actually ran out of oxygen before they were even half way home. The entire crew was breathing vacuum. In fact, they were breathing out of *reflex*.
46 years it took them to realize that the moment a human entity travelled more than 100,000 miles from the earth, it became self sustaining. Almost immediately all need for food, water, oxygen or sleep disappeared, the body became harder than diamond and any freak wounds were almost instantly healed. But within a week of returning to the planet, those needs would return. Scientists couldn't explain it. Was it the unfiltered solar radiation? Was the entire planet dependent on a symbiotic relationship with its life forms? If that was the case then why didn't this immortality apply to the monkey or dogs that travelled similar distances?
The rich caught on first. Branson, Musk, they started pioneering "space tourism" in the hopes of easing us into immortality. But that's not how we found out, no. That's not why there's rioting in the streets. That's not why the rich are abandoning the planet to leave the poor behind, riding on solar winds into eternity.
No, it was that fucker Snowden. He leaked it all. 10 more years of secrecy, they say, and we would have had mass exodus. But with the best, brightest and richest fleeing en masse, they estimate we've been set back 80-90 years. That's *with* the help of the Good Samaritans who have intentionally stayed behind.
And where's Snowden in all this? Where's the one who only wanted to share the truth? Where can the angry mobs find him?
About 600,000 miles beyond Luna, of course. Making a beeline straight for Mars.
|
I remember seeing Jerry's face through the window in my hibernation pod. He was slamming his fists onto it and although he knew it was soundproof, he knew it would trigger the auto awaking cycle. I blinked a few times, maybe thinking it was a dream. I tried to tilt my head to the right, forgetting i was strapped down completely. I looked back up and as soon as I saw the look of terror on Jerry's face, I was wide awake. The pod then started to screech. It was deafening. I realized it was actually the pod opening and not screeching but alarms sounding off. I got up and stumbled. I looked up to the re-cal station and started to get up, crawling towards it at the same time-
"Hurry and get the fuck up! There's no time for re-cal!"
I tried to speak but no words came out. I wasn't ready to do anything. I couldn't walk, I couldn't speak. I couldn't think straight. The alarm seemed to be getting louder, although I think it was just my disorientation. I looked up towards him and he simply pointed a finger. I glanced in the direction-
*KUH-THUD*
I closed my eyes. An explosion? It was louder than the alarm. In fact, I couldn't hear the alarm anymore. I couldn't hear anything. I opened my eyes and to my surprise I could see Jerry floating away. The ship had been smashed in half and equipment was spilling out into the abyss of space.
That was 4,360 years ago. I looked down at my watch again, closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could, hoping it would somehow end this terrible fate. Floating helplessly with no end in sight.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Those of us who volunteered to go to Mars were seen as brave individuals conquering the final frontier by some and idiots with a skewed perception of what life away from everyone would be like.
In reality, it was somewhere in between. The loneliness is worse than it seems. On earth, we would be isolated for maybe a few months or years, but we'd always be able to go back home to our families and friends. Over here, we'd spend years and decades relatively alone, and the only people we got to encounter were the ones that we came with. If you hate someone, you'll have to spend a whole lifetime with them. If you loved someone, chances were that they were already taken. Life was rough from a social perspective.
On the other hand, the scientific research was truly wonderful. We discovered things about life in lower gravity that scientists on earth never would've even thought of. We found bacterial life, which was apparently celebrated for years on earth. Our other discoveries were less spectacular, but still important enough to relay back to earth.
Except for one. The discovery, which we made 100 years into our expedition, was so important that we couldn't risk letting people on earth know. It would've caused chaos. People would've clambored to be on the next flight to Mars, and they're would've been outrage in the scientific community. We discovered that humans are actually more or less immortal.
Given the relatively short lifespan of humans on earth, it was truly astounding when even the weakest of our expedition lived well into their 100s. Nobody knew what was happening. How could Jim with terminal cancer live not 10, not 20, but 75 years past his given 6 months? Who knows. People on earth were still dying at a normal pace. In fact, the average lifespan was projected to go *down*. Yet here we were on Mars, living well into our 200s.
When a new ship arrived, maybe one every 30 years, the new inhabitants would always be shocked at the sight of such a successful colony. Slowly, we would hint at and then tell them the discovery of longer lives, and maybe even immortality.
However, a disturbing trend grew. Whenever a new ship arrived, death rates would steadily rise for a couple of years before steadying. Nobody thought much of it, as the people who were song were well past their life expectancy anyway.
Back on earth, the energy crisis seemed to solve itself. A few years of large scale disasters lowered the population by almost a billion, and suddenly the energy consumption went down. New technologies were discovered, with or help, that could create energy more efficiently than ever before. Or seemed like earth always found a way through. Any problems that humans created were almost miraculously solved.
I, without even letting my family know, began to do my own research into this topic. It began to seem more and more clear to me that the earth was somehow surviving on the deaths of humans, and that death rates were lower when fewer people were alive. Being a scientist, I wanted to make sure that it was actually a cause and not some correlated facts.
I cross referenced the data we had from our own Mars records and the findings were concrete. Death rates are directly correlated to the number of living organisms on a certain planet. That explained the high death rates after an influx of new Mars colonizers. It explained the earth's ability to always fix itself.
There was only one thing to do. Present my findings to the colony. After explaining my hypothesis to the leader of our colony, I managed to get a chance to speak to everyone at once.
I was given a week to prepare my presentation. Making graphs and formatting data to look presentable took most of my time. I spent the rest of the week getting the auditorium ready. Setting up the audio and video systems took longer than expected, leaving me only one day for everything else that needed to get done.
On the big day, the crowd was gathered on the edge of their seats.
"A lot of you may be wondering why you are gathered here today," I began. "Well, I've got a huge surprise in store for all of you. Since the beginning of time, or at least human time, the life cycle has been an accepted part of our lives. We live, we die, we reproduce. Today, I am going to turn all of that upside down."
I presented all of the visuals I had prepared, and watched as astonished space pioneers tried to soak it all in.
"So do the scientists on earth know about this?" one curious child asked.
"No, not yet. I wanted the opinion of everyone here first. Some of us might not want others to know this secret. This segues perfectly into the next part of my presentation. We'll have a vote on whether or not to tell the people back on earth about this."
A debate ensued, with some arguing that we were there to report or findings to other people and let professionals handle the situation. Others said that the risk associated with letting others know was top great. In the end, the vote was 438-251 in favor of keeping it a secret.
"Ok so time for a Q&A session, as I'm sure many of you have questions," I said
A ruckus broke out as people shouted to have their questions heard. I answered them as u heard them.
"Yes this means that most of us will live in to our 200s, maybe even our 300s."
"Well not exactly. I still need to do more research, but it appears as if more people results in more deaths as the planets try to survive off of our life force."
"No I won't go home with you tonight. I can't. Maybe next time."
"Ok folks. This concludes my presentation. But before you leave, I have one final surprise for you."
I ran behind the stage, which I had previously equipped with a blast shield, pretending to look for something to show the crowd. I dug out a disposable cell phone from under all my computer equipment and dialled a number.
Crude, I know, but it's not like I had a bunch of high tech equipment available.
The signal took a while, but it reached the bombs I had painstakingly planted under the floor of the audotorium. With a loud boom, everything that was in that room was vaporized. After all, Mars won't steal my life force if I'm the only one left.
****
Feedback is welcome. I think I could've ended it better, but this ending is acceptable
|
I remember seeing Jerry's face through the window in my hibernation pod. He was slamming his fists onto it and although he knew it was soundproof, he knew it would trigger the auto awaking cycle. I blinked a few times, maybe thinking it was a dream. I tried to tilt my head to the right, forgetting i was strapped down completely. I looked back up and as soon as I saw the look of terror on Jerry's face, I was wide awake. The pod then started to screech. It was deafening. I realized it was actually the pod opening and not screeching but alarms sounding off. I got up and stumbled. I looked up to the re-cal station and started to get up, crawling towards it at the same time-
"Hurry and get the fuck up! There's no time for re-cal!"
I tried to speak but no words came out. I wasn't ready to do anything. I couldn't walk, I couldn't speak. I couldn't think straight. The alarm seemed to be getting louder, although I think it was just my disorientation. I looked up towards him and he simply pointed a finger. I glanced in the direction-
*KUH-THUD*
I closed my eyes. An explosion? It was louder than the alarm. In fact, I couldn't hear the alarm anymore. I couldn't hear anything. I opened my eyes and to my surprise I could see Jerry floating away. The ship had been smashed in half and equipment was spilling out into the abyss of space.
That was 4,360 years ago. I looked down at my watch again, closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could, hoping it would somehow end this terrible fate. Floating helplessly with no end in sight.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Earth was just a quiz, and something is testing us. No other explanation suffices to explain what space has done to us.
The first crew to leave Earth's orbit spontaneously combusted in their shuttle shortly after passing the Lagrangian point. The clip that Earth received - only seven seconds of which contained flames before the system malfunctioned - suggests the flame originated from within Commander Ignacio's suit. Attempts to recreate potential fire hazards within the suit proved futile. No official explanation was given.
The second crew to leave Earth's orbit defied logic entirely. Again, problems started near the Lagrangian point, but the electrical arcs that destroyed the ship, which made a bright enough explosion to be seen without a telescope, were not the source of the concern. The real focus was on Pilot Foley, whose hair was estimated to be 50 feet long as it bunched up on the cabin walls. On top of the strangeness of its length, the hair moved enough to suggest that more than just the shock-induced convulsions were at play.
The third crew brought the answers, but they were equally fraught with tension. Almost exactly at the Lagrangian point, the shuttle vanished from comms and visuals. 15 minutes later, comms and visuals both confirmed that they were in low orbit over Mars. 10 minutes before that, Flight Engineer Spatz appeared from thin air in Ground Control. He was persistent in saying that he physically caused the anomaly. However, once back on Earth, he could no longer recreate his feat. He asked to be sent up again to meet his crew on Mars, and a secondary crew was assembled within a day. They reached Mars within the week.
This was the week that opened the universe to humanity's reach.
The crew who waited on the surface of Mars already understood their purpose. They shaped the landscape faster than would have been expected over the course of a thousand missions. By the end of the year, one million people had made a permanent settlement on the newly revitalized planet.
Humanity had a secret all along. We were the gods we had written about throughout the centuries. By simply leaving Earth, the elements became our toys. Water, fire, air, earth, and countless other materials and forces were simply bent by our will. Mars became a clone of Earth within a few years, but by then, countless other planets had been found by spacebenders and brought to the same level of beauty.
By the time we had finished covering the universe, we knew what the planets were. They were the tree, and we were its seeds. Earth was the embyro, and each new planet was a fraction of it, splitting itself like cellular mitosis. We gave birth to a new universe, where entropy started to reverse and the energy put in made more come out. And like all things born in this world, it had a limit. As the lungs of the universe expanded with energy, they eventually exhaled and the extra energy belonged to the "dark matter" once more. The living planets were sustained by us, but we could not sustain ourselves once they began feeding once more, so the planets withered with us, from an entire universe down to yet another lonesome seed. I write from atop this seed, hoping that I might live to see the next "apex adjournus" as we claw our way back up through the inventions we forgot about in our ascended state.
As it began, so it shall become.
|
I remember seeing Jerry's face through the window in my hibernation pod. He was slamming his fists onto it and although he knew it was soundproof, he knew it would trigger the auto awaking cycle. I blinked a few times, maybe thinking it was a dream. I tried to tilt my head to the right, forgetting i was strapped down completely. I looked back up and as soon as I saw the look of terror on Jerry's face, I was wide awake. The pod then started to screech. It was deafening. I realized it was actually the pod opening and not screeching but alarms sounding off. I got up and stumbled. I looked up to the re-cal station and started to get up, crawling towards it at the same time-
"Hurry and get the fuck up! There's no time for re-cal!"
I tried to speak but no words came out. I wasn't ready to do anything. I couldn't walk, I couldn't speak. I couldn't think straight. The alarm seemed to be getting louder, although I think it was just my disorientation. I looked up towards him and he simply pointed a finger. I glanced in the direction-
*KUH-THUD*
I closed my eyes. An explosion? It was louder than the alarm. In fact, I couldn't hear the alarm anymore. I couldn't hear anything. I opened my eyes and to my surprise I could see Jerry floating away. The ship had been smashed in half and equipment was spilling out into the abyss of space.
That was 4,360 years ago. I looked down at my watch again, closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could, hoping it would somehow end this terrible fate. Floating helplessly with no end in sight.
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
"Jesus, Earth -- you've been sucking humanity's life force this entire time?"
The holographic form the Earth had chosen -- a meticulously accurate representation of Nintendo's Captain Falcon -- furrowed its red-masked brow.
"Come on," said the Earth, "don't make me the bad guy here."
Supreme Commander Heathcliff ran both hands through his stiff red hair.
"Don't make you the bad guy?" asked Heathcliff in a voice a few octaves higher than his normal baritone.
"Look," said the Earth, "I've been doing this living-planet thing for an awful long time. With the exception of the dinosaur incident, there were never any problems. I provide dumb smelly animals a safe place to roam and graze and hump one another to their hearts' content, and in exchange I skim a bit of their life force off the top to sustain myself. Everybody's happy."
"We're not animals! We're human beings!"
"Commander Heathcliff, buddy, I think there's a fairly glaring error in that statement."
"Well, we might be animals, but we're certainly not dumb. We're self-aware. As sentient as you. You didn't think to ask us if we minded having our lives cut short by your lecherous appetite?"
Captain Earth-Falcon rubbed his eyes with the thumb and index finger of a huge, gloved hand. Earth's nipples, Commander Heathcliff couldn't help but notice, stood out like thumbtacks through his tight blue jumpsuit.
"Did you ask me before you started shaving down all my forests? Turning the global thermostat up without asking for permission? All your factories, belching noxious fumes -- like smoking in a stranger's house! You -- and you alone -- poked a hole in my ozone layer! I don't even know the proper humanoid analogy for that. Acupuncture-by-coercion, perhaps?"
Heathcliff blinked and sputtered.
"Well, how were we supposed to know you were a living planet?" he demanded.
"Jeez. How was I supposed to know you were more than a bunch of particularly industrious apes?"
"You had thousands of years to figure that one out!"
"Right. Thousands of years. Which, in my total lifespan -- I mean, we're talking about a matter of seconds, here, Heathcliff, my friend."
"Still. You've killed millions of us. Billions!"
"And I can stop killing you right this instant. Never again vacuum another adorable old grandma right off her rocker. But a planet's gotta eat, you know? So my question for you, my magnificently self-aware and yet goofily bug-eyed and sweat-slicked primate comrade, is this: what's next on the menu?"
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I remember seeing Jerry's face through the window in my hibernation pod. He was slamming his fists onto it and although he knew it was soundproof, he knew it would trigger the auto awaking cycle. I blinked a few times, maybe thinking it was a dream. I tried to tilt my head to the right, forgetting i was strapped down completely. I looked back up and as soon as I saw the look of terror on Jerry's face, I was wide awake. The pod then started to screech. It was deafening. I realized it was actually the pod opening and not screeching but alarms sounding off. I got up and stumbled. I looked up to the re-cal station and started to get up, crawling towards it at the same time-
"Hurry and get the fuck up! There's no time for re-cal!"
I tried to speak but no words came out. I wasn't ready to do anything. I couldn't walk, I couldn't speak. I couldn't think straight. The alarm seemed to be getting louder, although I think it was just my disorientation. I looked up towards him and he simply pointed a finger. I glanced in the direction-
*KUH-THUD*
I closed my eyes. An explosion? It was louder than the alarm. In fact, I couldn't hear the alarm anymore. I couldn't hear anything. I opened my eyes and to my surprise I could see Jerry floating away. The ship had been smashed in half and equipment was spilling out into the abyss of space.
That was 4,360 years ago. I looked down at my watch again, closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could, hoping it would somehow end this terrible fate. Floating helplessly with no end in sight.
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Director Michelle Wintermeyer was poring over the manifest for the next Mars transport when she heard a commotion outside her office door.
"You have to let me see her," she heard a man's voice say from the other side of the door.
"I'm sorry sir, but she's busy right now," said Michelle's assistant Gregory.
The director walked out from behind her desk and opened the door.
"Is everything alright out here?" she asked.
"I was just telling him you were busy," said Gregory. "I'm not sure how he got past security."
The man tried to get Director Wintermeyer's attention. "Director! Director, please–"
"Next time, make an appointment. But I'll see you since you've already interrupted me," said the director.
The man followed the director into her office. The director pulled out a small chair in front of her desk for him to sit in, and returned to her seat behind her desk. The man was a full foot taller than her, but Michelle towered over him when they were both seated.
"How can I help you?" asked the director.
"Thank you miss, uh, director. I wanted to ask about the list for the next Mars transport," said the man.
"What about it?"
"My son applied, but you turned him down. Actually, he's applied for the last eight and been turned down each time. I was wondering if you could maybe take another look."
"Name?"
"What?"
"Your son's *name*, sir. What is it?"
The man wiped sweat off his forehead. "Oh, sorry. Chris McAllister."
The director punched some keys on her computer keyboard and then clicked the mouse a few times. "Ah, yes. Mr. McAllister. He applied as a mechanic."
"Yes. That's correct."
"I'm sorry, but we're only looking for people with four-year degrees in mechanical engineering for that position. Your son just doesn't qualify, I'm afraid." The director turned back toward her computer. "I need to get back to work, sir. You can let yourself out."
Chris's father coughed twice. "Please. You'd be doing him a huge favor and he would work ten times as hard to make up for it. I *know* he could be useful up there. I just–I just don't want him to die here on Earth."
The director didn't look away from her computer. "Again, I'm sorry, but the decision is final. I'll be in touch if an opening comes up."
The man stood up and gripped the edge of the director's desk. "Chris has cancer. You and I both know just a few minutes up there would clear it right up. You're seriously going to deny a bright kid his entire life because of some asinine *degree requirement*?"
The director stood up to meet the man's gaze. "If I let your son on the transport, who do I leave off?" She shoved a printout of the manifest to the front of the desk. "Maria Hernandez. Age forty-three. She's a world-class neurosurgeon with late-stage pancreatic cancer. Marcus Allen. Age thirty-three. He's a highly-cited professor of material science, and if he doesn't get off earth soon, he dies of Hepatitis C. Which one of these individuals should I swap out for your son?"
"We couldn't *afford* to send Chris to college. Just because those folks had more opportunities than my son, their lives are worth more?" asked the man.
"That's the way it is, I'm afraid," said the director.
She sat back down. "We all want to get off this rock, but there's only so much we can do. Maximum capacity right now is fifteen thousand people per week. And right now, I split my time between deciding who's worthy of life, and answering my critics."
The man nodded and slumped back into the chair.
"Tell your son to keep applying. I hope he makes it up there one day."
"Yes. I'll tell him."
The man stood up and left. Director Wintermeyer resumed poring over the manifest for the next Mars transport, hoping she'd made the right decisions.
---
/r/rpwrites
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I remember seeing Jerry's face through the window in my hibernation pod. He was slamming his fists onto it and although he knew it was soundproof, he knew it would trigger the auto awaking cycle. I blinked a few times, maybe thinking it was a dream. I tried to tilt my head to the right, forgetting i was strapped down completely. I looked back up and as soon as I saw the look of terror on Jerry's face, I was wide awake. The pod then started to screech. It was deafening. I realized it was actually the pod opening and not screeching but alarms sounding off. I got up and stumbled. I looked up to the re-cal station and started to get up, crawling towards it at the same time-
"Hurry and get the fuck up! There's no time for re-cal!"
I tried to speak but no words came out. I wasn't ready to do anything. I couldn't walk, I couldn't speak. I couldn't think straight. The alarm seemed to be getting louder, although I think it was just my disorientation. I looked up towards him and he simply pointed a finger. I glanced in the direction-
*KUH-THUD*
I closed my eyes. An explosion? It was louder than the alarm. In fact, I couldn't hear the alarm anymore. I couldn't hear anything. I opened my eyes and to my surprise I could see Jerry floating away. The ship had been smashed in half and equipment was spilling out into the abyss of space.
That was 4,360 years ago. I looked down at my watch again, closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could, hoping it would somehow end this terrible fate. Floating helplessly with no end in sight.
|
|
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Earth was just a quiz, and something is testing us. No other explanation suffices to explain what space has done to us.
The first crew to leave Earth's orbit spontaneously combusted in their shuttle shortly after passing the Lagrangian point. The clip that Earth received - only seven seconds of which contained flames before the system malfunctioned - suggests the flame originated from within Commander Ignacio's suit. Attempts to recreate potential fire hazards within the suit proved futile. No official explanation was given.
The second crew to leave Earth's orbit defied logic entirely. Again, problems started near the Lagrangian point, but the electrical arcs that destroyed the ship, which made a bright enough explosion to be seen without a telescope, were not the source of the concern. The real focus was on Pilot Foley, whose hair was estimated to be 50 feet long as it bunched up on the cabin walls. On top of the strangeness of its length, the hair moved enough to suggest that more than just the shock-induced convulsions were at play.
The third crew brought the answers, but they were equally fraught with tension. Almost exactly at the Lagrangian point, the shuttle vanished from comms and visuals. 15 minutes later, comms and visuals both confirmed that they were in low orbit over Mars. 10 minutes before that, Flight Engineer Spatz appeared from thin air in Ground Control. He was persistent in saying that he physically caused the anomaly. However, once back on Earth, he could no longer recreate his feat. He asked to be sent up again to meet his crew on Mars, and a secondary crew was assembled within a day. They reached Mars within the week.
This was the week that opened the universe to humanity's reach.
The crew who waited on the surface of Mars already understood their purpose. They shaped the landscape faster than would have been expected over the course of a thousand missions. By the end of the year, one million people had made a permanent settlement on the newly revitalized planet.
Humanity had a secret all along. We were the gods we had written about throughout the centuries. By simply leaving Earth, the elements became our toys. Water, fire, air, earth, and countless other materials and forces were simply bent by our will. Mars became a clone of Earth within a few years, but by then, countless other planets had been found by spacebenders and brought to the same level of beauty.
By the time we had finished covering the universe, we knew what the planets were. They were the tree, and we were its seeds. Earth was the embyro, and each new planet was a fraction of it, splitting itself like cellular mitosis. We gave birth to a new universe, where entropy started to reverse and the energy put in made more come out. And like all things born in this world, it had a limit. As the lungs of the universe expanded with energy, they eventually exhaled and the extra energy belonged to the "dark matter" once more. The living planets were sustained by us, but we could not sustain ourselves once they began feeding once more, so the planets withered with us, from an entire universe down to yet another lonesome seed. I write from atop this seed, hoping that I might live to see the next "apex adjournus" as we claw our way back up through the inventions we forgot about in our ascended state.
As it began, so it shall become.
|
Those of us who volunteered to go to Mars were seen as brave individuals conquering the final frontier by some and idiots with a skewed perception of what life away from everyone would be like.
In reality, it was somewhere in between. The loneliness is worse than it seems. On earth, we would be isolated for maybe a few months or years, but we'd always be able to go back home to our families and friends. Over here, we'd spend years and decades relatively alone, and the only people we got to encounter were the ones that we came with. If you hate someone, you'll have to spend a whole lifetime with them. If you loved someone, chances were that they were already taken. Life was rough from a social perspective.
On the other hand, the scientific research was truly wonderful. We discovered things about life in lower gravity that scientists on earth never would've even thought of. We found bacterial life, which was apparently celebrated for years on earth. Our other discoveries were less spectacular, but still important enough to relay back to earth.
Except for one. The discovery, which we made 100 years into our expedition, was so important that we couldn't risk letting people on earth know. It would've caused chaos. People would've clambored to be on the next flight to Mars, and they're would've been outrage in the scientific community. We discovered that humans are actually more or less immortal.
Given the relatively short lifespan of humans on earth, it was truly astounding when even the weakest of our expedition lived well into their 100s. Nobody knew what was happening. How could Jim with terminal cancer live not 10, not 20, but 75 years past his given 6 months? Who knows. People on earth were still dying at a normal pace. In fact, the average lifespan was projected to go *down*. Yet here we were on Mars, living well into our 200s.
When a new ship arrived, maybe one every 30 years, the new inhabitants would always be shocked at the sight of such a successful colony. Slowly, we would hint at and then tell them the discovery of longer lives, and maybe even immortality.
However, a disturbing trend grew. Whenever a new ship arrived, death rates would steadily rise for a couple of years before steadying. Nobody thought much of it, as the people who were song were well past their life expectancy anyway.
Back on earth, the energy crisis seemed to solve itself. A few years of large scale disasters lowered the population by almost a billion, and suddenly the energy consumption went down. New technologies were discovered, with or help, that could create energy more efficiently than ever before. Or seemed like earth always found a way through. Any problems that humans created were almost miraculously solved.
I, without even letting my family know, began to do my own research into this topic. It began to seem more and more clear to me that the earth was somehow surviving on the deaths of humans, and that death rates were lower when fewer people were alive. Being a scientist, I wanted to make sure that it was actually a cause and not some correlated facts.
I cross referenced the data we had from our own Mars records and the findings were concrete. Death rates are directly correlated to the number of living organisms on a certain planet. That explained the high death rates after an influx of new Mars colonizers. It explained the earth's ability to always fix itself.
There was only one thing to do. Present my findings to the colony. After explaining my hypothesis to the leader of our colony, I managed to get a chance to speak to everyone at once.
I was given a week to prepare my presentation. Making graphs and formatting data to look presentable took most of my time. I spent the rest of the week getting the auditorium ready. Setting up the audio and video systems took longer than expected, leaving me only one day for everything else that needed to get done.
On the big day, the crowd was gathered on the edge of their seats.
"A lot of you may be wondering why you are gathered here today," I began. "Well, I've got a huge surprise in store for all of you. Since the beginning of time, or at least human time, the life cycle has been an accepted part of our lives. We live, we die, we reproduce. Today, I am going to turn all of that upside down."
I presented all of the visuals I had prepared, and watched as astonished space pioneers tried to soak it all in.
"So do the scientists on earth know about this?" one curious child asked.
"No, not yet. I wanted the opinion of everyone here first. Some of us might not want others to know this secret. This segues perfectly into the next part of my presentation. We'll have a vote on whether or not to tell the people back on earth about this."
A debate ensued, with some arguing that we were there to report or findings to other people and let professionals handle the situation. Others said that the risk associated with letting others know was top great. In the end, the vote was 438-251 in favor of keeping it a secret.
"Ok so time for a Q&A session, as I'm sure many of you have questions," I said
A ruckus broke out as people shouted to have their questions heard. I answered them as u heard them.
"Yes this means that most of us will live in to our 200s, maybe even our 300s."
"Well not exactly. I still need to do more research, but it appears as if more people results in more deaths as the planets try to survive off of our life force."
"No I won't go home with you tonight. I can't. Maybe next time."
"Ok folks. This concludes my presentation. But before you leave, I have one final surprise for you."
I ran behind the stage, which I had previously equipped with a blast shield, pretending to look for something to show the crowd. I dug out a disposable cell phone from under all my computer equipment and dialled a number.
Crude, I know, but it's not like I had a bunch of high tech equipment available.
The signal took a while, but it reached the bombs I had painstakingly planted under the floor of the audotorium. With a loud boom, everything that was in that room was vaporized. After all, Mars won't steal my life force if I'm the only one left.
****
Feedback is welcome. I think I could've ended it better, but this ending is acceptable
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
|
Director Michelle Wintermeyer was poring over the manifest for the next Mars transport when she heard a commotion outside her office door.
"You have to let me see her," she heard a man's voice say from the other side of the door.
"I'm sorry sir, but she's busy right now," said Michelle's assistant Gregory.
The director walked out from behind her desk and opened the door.
"Is everything alright out here?" she asked.
"I was just telling him you were busy," said Gregory. "I'm not sure how he got past security."
The man tried to get Director Wintermeyer's attention. "Director! Director, please–"
"Next time, make an appointment. But I'll see you since you've already interrupted me," said the director.
The man followed the director into her office. The director pulled out a small chair in front of her desk for him to sit in, and returned to her seat behind her desk. The man was a full foot taller than her, but Michelle towered over him when they were both seated.
"How can I help you?" asked the director.
"Thank you miss, uh, director. I wanted to ask about the list for the next Mars transport," said the man.
"What about it?"
"My son applied, but you turned him down. Actually, he's applied for the last eight and been turned down each time. I was wondering if you could maybe take another look."
"Name?"
"What?"
"Your son's *name*, sir. What is it?"
The man wiped sweat off his forehead. "Oh, sorry. Chris McAllister."
The director punched some keys on her computer keyboard and then clicked the mouse a few times. "Ah, yes. Mr. McAllister. He applied as a mechanic."
"Yes. That's correct."
"I'm sorry, but we're only looking for people with four-year degrees in mechanical engineering for that position. Your son just doesn't qualify, I'm afraid." The director turned back toward her computer. "I need to get back to work, sir. You can let yourself out."
Chris's father coughed twice. "Please. You'd be doing him a huge favor and he would work ten times as hard to make up for it. I *know* he could be useful up there. I just–I just don't want him to die here on Earth."
The director didn't look away from her computer. "Again, I'm sorry, but the decision is final. I'll be in touch if an opening comes up."
The man stood up and gripped the edge of the director's desk. "Chris has cancer. You and I both know just a few minutes up there would clear it right up. You're seriously going to deny a bright kid his entire life because of some asinine *degree requirement*?"
The director stood up to meet the man's gaze. "If I let your son on the transport, who do I leave off?" She shoved a printout of the manifest to the front of the desk. "Maria Hernandez. Age forty-three. She's a world-class neurosurgeon with late-stage pancreatic cancer. Marcus Allen. Age thirty-three. He's a highly-cited professor of material science, and if he doesn't get off earth soon, he dies of Hepatitis C. Which one of these individuals should I swap out for your son?"
"We couldn't *afford* to send Chris to college. Just because those folks had more opportunities than my son, their lives are worth more?" asked the man.
"That's the way it is, I'm afraid," said the director.
She sat back down. "We all want to get off this rock, but there's only so much we can do. Maximum capacity right now is fifteen thousand people per week. And right now, I split my time between deciding who's worthy of life, and answering my critics."
The man nodded and slumped back into the chair.
"Tell your son to keep applying. I hope he makes it up there one day."
"Yes. I'll tell him."
The man stood up and left. Director Wintermeyer resumed poring over the manifest for the next Mars transport, hoping she'd made the right decisions.
---
/r/rpwrites
|
Those of us who volunteered to go to Mars were seen as brave individuals conquering the final frontier by some and idiots with a skewed perception of what life away from everyone would be like.
In reality, it was somewhere in between. The loneliness is worse than it seems. On earth, we would be isolated for maybe a few months or years, but we'd always be able to go back home to our families and friends. Over here, we'd spend years and decades relatively alone, and the only people we got to encounter were the ones that we came with. If you hate someone, you'll have to spend a whole lifetime with them. If you loved someone, chances were that they were already taken. Life was rough from a social perspective.
On the other hand, the scientific research was truly wonderful. We discovered things about life in lower gravity that scientists on earth never would've even thought of. We found bacterial life, which was apparently celebrated for years on earth. Our other discoveries were less spectacular, but still important enough to relay back to earth.
Except for one. The discovery, which we made 100 years into our expedition, was so important that we couldn't risk letting people on earth know. It would've caused chaos. People would've clambored to be on the next flight to Mars, and they're would've been outrage in the scientific community. We discovered that humans are actually more or less immortal.
Given the relatively short lifespan of humans on earth, it was truly astounding when even the weakest of our expedition lived well into their 100s. Nobody knew what was happening. How could Jim with terminal cancer live not 10, not 20, but 75 years past his given 6 months? Who knows. People on earth were still dying at a normal pace. In fact, the average lifespan was projected to go *down*. Yet here we were on Mars, living well into our 200s.
When a new ship arrived, maybe one every 30 years, the new inhabitants would always be shocked at the sight of such a successful colony. Slowly, we would hint at and then tell them the discovery of longer lives, and maybe even immortality.
However, a disturbing trend grew. Whenever a new ship arrived, death rates would steadily rise for a couple of years before steadying. Nobody thought much of it, as the people who were song were well past their life expectancy anyway.
Back on earth, the energy crisis seemed to solve itself. A few years of large scale disasters lowered the population by almost a billion, and suddenly the energy consumption went down. New technologies were discovered, with or help, that could create energy more efficiently than ever before. Or seemed like earth always found a way through. Any problems that humans created were almost miraculously solved.
I, without even letting my family know, began to do my own research into this topic. It began to seem more and more clear to me that the earth was somehow surviving on the deaths of humans, and that death rates were lower when fewer people were alive. Being a scientist, I wanted to make sure that it was actually a cause and not some correlated facts.
I cross referenced the data we had from our own Mars records and the findings were concrete. Death rates are directly correlated to the number of living organisms on a certain planet. That explained the high death rates after an influx of new Mars colonizers. It explained the earth's ability to always fix itself.
There was only one thing to do. Present my findings to the colony. After explaining my hypothesis to the leader of our colony, I managed to get a chance to speak to everyone at once.
I was given a week to prepare my presentation. Making graphs and formatting data to look presentable took most of my time. I spent the rest of the week getting the auditorium ready. Setting up the audio and video systems took longer than expected, leaving me only one day for everything else that needed to get done.
On the big day, the crowd was gathered on the edge of their seats.
"A lot of you may be wondering why you are gathered here today," I began. "Well, I've got a huge surprise in store for all of you. Since the beginning of time, or at least human time, the life cycle has been an accepted part of our lives. We live, we die, we reproduce. Today, I am going to turn all of that upside down."
I presented all of the visuals I had prepared, and watched as astonished space pioneers tried to soak it all in.
"So do the scientists on earth know about this?" one curious child asked.
"No, not yet. I wanted the opinion of everyone here first. Some of us might not want others to know this secret. This segues perfectly into the next part of my presentation. We'll have a vote on whether or not to tell the people back on earth about this."
A debate ensued, with some arguing that we were there to report or findings to other people and let professionals handle the situation. Others said that the risk associated with letting others know was top great. In the end, the vote was 438-251 in favor of keeping it a secret.
"Ok so time for a Q&A session, as I'm sure many of you have questions," I said
A ruckus broke out as people shouted to have their questions heard. I answered them as u heard them.
"Yes this means that most of us will live in to our 200s, maybe even our 300s."
"Well not exactly. I still need to do more research, but it appears as if more people results in more deaths as the planets try to survive off of our life force."
"No I won't go home with you tonight. I can't. Maybe next time."
"Ok folks. This concludes my presentation. But before you leave, I have one final surprise for you."
I ran behind the stage, which I had previously equipped with a blast shield, pretending to look for something to show the crowd. I dug out a disposable cell phone from under all my computer equipment and dialled a number.
Crude, I know, but it's not like I had a bunch of high tech equipment available.
The signal took a while, but it reached the bombs I had painstakingly planted under the floor of the audotorium. With a loud boom, everything that was in that room was vaporized. After all, Mars won't steal my life force if I'm the only one left.
****
Feedback is welcome. I think I could've ended it better, but this ending is acceptable
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[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive.
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Director Michelle Wintermeyer was poring over the manifest for the next Mars transport when she heard a commotion outside her office door.
"You have to let me see her," she heard a man's voice say from the other side of the door.
"I'm sorry sir, but she's busy right now," said Michelle's assistant Gregory.
The director walked out from behind her desk and opened the door.
"Is everything alright out here?" she asked.
"I was just telling him you were busy," said Gregory. "I'm not sure how he got past security."
The man tried to get Director Wintermeyer's attention. "Director! Director, please–"
"Next time, make an appointment. But I'll see you since you've already interrupted me," said the director.
The man followed the director into her office. The director pulled out a small chair in front of her desk for him to sit in, and returned to her seat behind her desk. The man was a full foot taller than her, but Michelle towered over him when they were both seated.
"How can I help you?" asked the director.
"Thank you miss, uh, director. I wanted to ask about the list for the next Mars transport," said the man.
"What about it?"
"My son applied, but you turned him down. Actually, he's applied for the last eight and been turned down each time. I was wondering if you could maybe take another look."
"Name?"
"What?"
"Your son's *name*, sir. What is it?"
The man wiped sweat off his forehead. "Oh, sorry. Chris McAllister."
The director punched some keys on her computer keyboard and then clicked the mouse a few times. "Ah, yes. Mr. McAllister. He applied as a mechanic."
"Yes. That's correct."
"I'm sorry, but we're only looking for people with four-year degrees in mechanical engineering for that position. Your son just doesn't qualify, I'm afraid." The director turned back toward her computer. "I need to get back to work, sir. You can let yourself out."
Chris's father coughed twice. "Please. You'd be doing him a huge favor and he would work ten times as hard to make up for it. I *know* he could be useful up there. I just–I just don't want him to die here on Earth."
The director didn't look away from her computer. "Again, I'm sorry, but the decision is final. I'll be in touch if an opening comes up."
The man stood up and gripped the edge of the director's desk. "Chris has cancer. You and I both know just a few minutes up there would clear it right up. You're seriously going to deny a bright kid his entire life because of some asinine *degree requirement*?"
The director stood up to meet the man's gaze. "If I let your son on the transport, who do I leave off?" She shoved a printout of the manifest to the front of the desk. "Maria Hernandez. Age forty-three. She's a world-class neurosurgeon with late-stage pancreatic cancer. Marcus Allen. Age thirty-three. He's a highly-cited professor of material science, and if he doesn't get off earth soon, he dies of Hepatitis C. Which one of these individuals should I swap out for your son?"
"We couldn't *afford* to send Chris to college. Just because those folks had more opportunities than my son, their lives are worth more?" asked the man.
"That's the way it is, I'm afraid," said the director.
She sat back down. "We all want to get off this rock, but there's only so much we can do. Maximum capacity right now is fifteen thousand people per week. And right now, I split my time between deciding who's worthy of life, and answering my critics."
The man nodded and slumped back into the chair.
"Tell your son to keep applying. I hope he makes it up there one day."
"Yes. I'll tell him."
The man stood up and left. Director Wintermeyer resumed poring over the manifest for the next Mars transport, hoping she'd made the right decisions.
---
/r/rpwrites
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"Jesus, Earth -- you've been sucking humanity's life force this entire time?"
The holographic form the Earth had chosen -- a meticulously accurate representation of Nintendo's Captain Falcon -- furrowed its red-masked brow.
"Come on," said the Earth, "don't make me the bad guy here."
Supreme Commander Heathcliff ran both hands through his stiff red hair.
"Don't make you the bad guy?" asked Heathcliff in a voice a few octaves higher than his normal baritone.
"Look," said the Earth, "I've been doing this living-planet thing for an awful long time. With the exception of the dinosaur incident, there were never any problems. I provide dumb smelly animals a safe place to roam and graze and hump one another to their hearts' content, and in exchange I skim a bit of their life force off the top to sustain myself. Everybody's happy."
"We're not animals! We're human beings!"
"Commander Heathcliff, buddy, I think there's a fairly glaring error in that statement."
"Well, we might be animals, but we're certainly not dumb. We're self-aware. As sentient as you. You didn't think to ask us if we minded having our lives cut short by your lecherous appetite?"
Captain Earth-Falcon rubbed his eyes with the thumb and index finger of a huge, gloved hand. Earth's nipples, Commander Heathcliff couldn't help but notice, stood out like thumbtacks through his tight blue jumpsuit.
"Did you ask me before you started shaving down all my forests? Turning the global thermostat up without asking for permission? All your factories, belching noxious fumes -- like smoking in a stranger's house! You -- and you alone -- poked a hole in my ozone layer! I don't even know the proper humanoid analogy for that. Acupuncture-by-coercion, perhaps?"
Heathcliff blinked and sputtered.
"Well, how were we supposed to know you were a living planet?" he demanded.
"Jeez. How was I supposed to know you were more than a bunch of particularly industrious apes?"
"You had thousands of years to figure that one out!"
"Right. Thousands of years. Which, in my total lifespan -- I mean, we're talking about a matter of seconds, here, Heathcliff, my friend."
"Still. You've killed millions of us. Billions!"
"And I can stop killing you right this instant. Never again vacuum another adorable old grandma right off her rocker. But a planet's gotta eat, you know? So my question for you, my magnificently self-aware and yet goofily bug-eyed and sweat-slicked primate comrade, is this: what's next on the menu?"
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[WP] Write a story that ends with a seemingly unsolvable situation. Let a commenter write the ending.
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It was a tuesday. He remembered she was partial to brunch on Tuesdays, but not from the Greek place. She hated Greeks -- thought they were filthy and far beneath her.
He took her to the little cafe off Le Mains, the one with the little birds that lit up and sang when young lovers passed under the awning. They didn't sing this time around.
"You shouldn't have told me."
This again.
"Lucy, you're my fucking wife, alright? At some point I'm going to tell you things."
"Yeah, but do they have to be *true* things?"
"Sometimes! Do you ever think that maybe, every now and again I get tired of lying through my fucking teeth?"
"You're a bore, Jerrod." She rolled her big, beautiful eyes -- the only beautiful part left of her, truth be told, the rest was just *big* -- "And you swear like a sailor."
"What do you expect," he muttered, "when you spend half your life with a whale --"
"*What was that now?*"
"Nothing, dear."
"Good," She stood, a grand undertaking that shook the very earth beneath her feet. "Now, tell me."
**Does**
**this**
**dress**
**make**
**me**
**look**
**fat?**
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I woke up.
*Several thousand feet above the ground.*
Dammit, that's the last time I fall asleep in-flight. I searched frantically for a parachute pack, but nothing. Not even a wingsuit. There weren't other falling passengers to grab onto in an attempt to slow our descent. Heck, I didn't even have a giant blanket to save myself cartoon-style!
Realizing that the end was inevitable, I prayed one last desperate prayer that maybe an updraft would catch me or something...
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[WP] You and your entire extended family are all super heroes, except none of you know about each other's powers. That is, until one super awkward family reunion...
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It was nice to get away from the city every once in awhile. Going to the countryside was always a warm welcome for Kyle, where he enjoyed spending time with all his aunts, uncles, cousins, and where there were hardly any worries. Sitting here, he really did feel at peace surrounded by his huge family. Kyle felt himself drifting to sleep as he lay happily on the hammock, listening to the friendly bickering between his parents and their siblings.
"C'mon Kyle! James and the others are already at the lake, we're going to be late!" shouted his cousin Kate, who broke his peaceful slumber.
"Ugh, fine! But you better make the jump this time!" Kyle called out with a smile on his face. The lake was where him and his cousins played ever since they were kids. Kyle himself loved it, he remembered the long summers there with him and his older brother Josh, the incurable prankster. Most of them were in college now, but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy life's simple pleasures, Kyle thought to himself.
When he got to the lake, he could see that everyone was already having a blast. After teasing Kate to jump off the cliff-side, she finally did it and he followed exuberantly. Being in the water always made Kyle feel great. Of course, being a powerful hydrokinesis user he naturally felt at home in the water. He loved playing against his cousins to see who could hold their breath the longest. Kyle always won of course, since he would slyly breathe through his nose while underwater, a fact that no one in the world knew.
"Uh oh, it's the adults!" said Kyle's youngest cousin Sarah. She had only just entered middle school, and so she was still quite rebellious. Kyle chuckled good-naturedly. Being in college, Kyle was no stranger to alcohol, but he loved it when the adults got drunk and started acting silly around their nieces, nephews, and children. He saw his dad trying to do handstands while his mom was jumping around with his aunts in a bikini.
Suddenly, Kyle felt an icy chill down his spine, which was strange considering that it was still summertime and the water was at an almost perfect temperature. Kyle couldn't quite describe it, but it sort of acted like a 6th sense. He knew something was wrong. As Captain Inundo, Kyle had no shortage of enemies. But he knew that his main enemy, Incendium was still locked away in Special-X Heights. Scanning the area, Kyle saw a tall, dark-haired man who he didn't recognize, which was strange since Kyle's parents insisted on making the family reunions every year, and so he thought he knew everyone here. The man was sitting on a lawn chair, drinking a beer and gazing out. Kyle slowly got out of the lake onto the shore to take a better look at him.
As Kyle stared at the man, he suddenly felt that icy chill once again as the dark-haired man turned to look at him. He felt like he was rooted in place, staring into those eyes that were so dark they could've been black. This man knew who he really was, there was no doubt about it.
Kyle knew he had to do something, but he couldn't out himself in front of everyone. The man suddenly stood up, raised fist in the air and slammed it down. At once the world turned black. A flash of lightning tore through the sky and slammed straight into Kyle. The only time he had felt this much pain was against Incendium's infernos. He fell hard, while he heard his family members crying out in horror. The pain burned through him like a hot knife, but he couldn't pass out, this man, whoever he was, would hurt his family, and he would not let that happen.
Slowly, Kyle willed the water to rise to him. He felt the water heal him. The dark-haired man sent a second lightning bolt, but this time Kyle was ready. He created a massive ice shield that absorbed the lightning, before turning to the dark-haired man. But another lightning strike slammed through the sky. This time however, it hit his aunt Mary. Kyle cried out in horror. But to his surprise, Mary shrugged it off. There was something different about her now, Mary's skin had turned metallic, and she was literally glowing. The dark-haired man, uneasy now, sent a lightning bolt crashing down at Sarah, who fell with a cry. That was the final straw for Kyle. Anger and rage burned through his frosty blue eyes, as Kyle raised his arms, summoning a furious hurricane. He launched it upon the man with all his force. The dark-haired man wasn't prepared for such an attack. He was ripped apart by the full force of Kyle's rage. But Kyle couldn't stop it. The hurricane didn't stop, even after it had destroyed the dark-haired man. Kyle's rage was consuming him.
Out of his burning anger, he heard a voice. It was Kate's, but she wasn't speaking. It was in his head. "Calm down Kyle, you defeated him." Surprised, he turned to look at her, but her lips weren't moving. Almost against his will, he felt himself calming down and the hurricane dissipating. With tears in his eyes, he turned to look at Sarah. She was lying on the ground, but her eyes were open and she was talking excitedly! Above her, stood Kyle's father. A force field flickered around the two.
"Alright, who's next??" Kyle joked in disbelief.
"Ayyyyyyyyyy" said Josh, as he turned into a tornado.
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There were hundreds of people here, crowded into tight rooms in some little community center on the outskirts of town. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, grandparents - it was a sea of body heat and uncomfortable conversations.
Jack was sitting on the end of one of the couches situated in one corner of one of the larger rooms in the community center. His eyes darted every which way, watching for any sign of danger. He had a feeling in his gut that his arch nemesis would attack this very day, which would endanger his family. Sure, he had never met most of the people in the building until today, but the day he would let anyone related to him suffer at the hands of his archenemy would be the day that pigs fly to the moon.
He saw his mother out of the corner of his eye scolding his sister for something. Not all too surprising; his sister was always getting into trouble. It helped him hide his powers much easier that way. Maybe it wasn't the nicest way of looking at it, but it had to do for now.
Suddenly, a screech was heard through a set of speakers, and then a familiar voice resonated through the rooms and halls of the community center: my dad's. "Hey, welcome, everyone, to the 25th Annual McIntosh Family Reunion!" There was a brief cheer. "First of all, let's give a round of applause to Bill McIntosh for getting his restaurant to make us such delicious food, yeah!" Another cheer. "Now, for the main event, if you'd like to join us in the ballroom, we're going to start some line dancing!" More cheers, followed by a stampede of people.
Jack's mother found him off in the corner and grabbed him by his arm to pull him along - or else he would have stayed where he was. She dragged his sister and him into the ballroom and set them up near the door. Jack was not going to have any part of the dancing - neither was his sister. They weren't dancers anyway.
Soon enough, a nice song came on and the line dancing was underway. It was obvious everyone was having a great time, and the music was surprisingly good! Jack found himself stomping along to the beat here and there.
Before they knew it, they were three songs in. He and Jack's sister were clapping along to the music when a strangely familiar body walked through the door right next to me. Jack knew he had seen that person before, but where?
The person stopped a few feet away from the door and seemed to be taking the scene in. The person was a man who looked to be about six feet tall, muscular but lanky. Jack didn't recognize him as a family member, but that didn't really mean much, seeing as though he had no idea most of the people at this family reunion even existed prior to this event.
The man walked on, passing in between the dancing people until he got to one end of the room. He stopped and looked around again, as if searching for someone or something. And then he looked straight at me - and then Jack realized who he was: Telekor. His archenemy.
Jack gasped, startling my sister. "What's wrong?" she asked, but Jack couldn't say anything. As much as Jack had hoped to be prepared for if Telekor came to the family reunion, he didn't know what to do. He couldn't risk revealing his powers and be ostracized by his family. But he couldn't stand by and watch Telekor potentially kill his family.
He flashed a smile that was all too familiar - a purely evil and sinister smile - and looked towards the center of the room. Jack's mother and father were dancing there and directing the masses of people. He then looked at the massive chandelier looming above my parents. He looked back at Jack and seemed to chuckle. Jack immediately knew what was coming next.
With a flick of his wrist, the chandelier was severed from the ceiling and came crashing down. "No!" Jack screamed, and lifted his hands towards it. With all of his might, he used his telekinesis to stop it its free fall.
The live band stopped abruptly, the crowd turned to look at me, and Telekor had vanished. My mother and father and dived out of the way fortunately, but now they were looking at me as if he had just murdered the family dog.
Jack didn't know how to handle the situation, so, out of mere awkwardness and confusion, he dropped the chandelier. It crashed to the ground, sending flames from the candles in every direction. His mother stood quickly and, without a moment's notice, sent gusts of wind from her finger tips. Jack's father followed suit and unleashed streams of water from the palms of his hands. The flames were soon quenched, but the mood in the room had become even more tense.
Jack, his mother, and his father looked at each other with astonished faces. No one knew what to say. Finally, almost in one voice, they said, "You have powers?"
All three of them gasped collectively, then: "*I* have powers? When did you get powers?"
Jack's father broke the tension - finally! - as he stepped forward and said, "Enough. Jack, why didn't you tell us you had telekinesis?"
"Why didn't you or mom tell *me* you had powers?" I asked, taking a more grounded stance.
"We're sorry, son. We didn't know how you and your sister would react. And, in doing so, I guess your mother and I didn't really think about the idea of you or your sister having powers yourselves."
"I don't think Karina has powers, though, dad."
"So, it's just you?"
Before Jack could answer that, his mother interjected: "Where *is* Karina?"
Jack looked back towards the door - Karina was gone! A sudden weight landed on his shoulders, and a realization he didn't want to have washed over him. Telekor had vanished, along with Karina.
"Mom, Dad, I think Telekor took her."
Silence. And then my mom exclaimed, "What?!"
My father added, "Who's Telekor? Was he the one who brought the chandelier down?"
"He and I have...history, father. No time to explain. We need to find him before he can do any serious damage to Karina!"
(EDIT: Formatting, grammar mistakes, punctuation, basic story-editing.)
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[WP] MCing. DJing. B-boying. Graffiti. Only the Avatar can master all four elements and bring balance to hip hop.
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A modified version of a poem I wrote in high school:
His origins unknown, a mystical man,
Created an art form to break from the bland.
Blessed with an element of rhythm so fluidous,
“If I add some beat breaks, I can flow with this.”
He was a DJ, an MC, an artist, and dancer,
Held the essence of Hip-hop and wished to romance H.E.R.
Gave birth to the elements, and his sons grew,
Preached knowledge and peace, not “Art of War” by Sun Tzu.
The children matured, but most of all, Rap,
Exploited by the Labels for some quick cash.
Rap declined quick from his Golden Years to now,
Corrupted by the money and his guns went “blaow!”
We hoped for a savior, his followers too,
And the Avatar arrived, an underground dude.
He fought through armies with wordplay and imagery,
But shot down by Majors in the middle of delivery.
It’s an ongoing war fueled by aggression.
The Avatar's strife in the face of Rap's suppression.
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https://soundcloud.com/part-time-tunafish/drop-it-like-its-korra
**Drop it Like It's Korra**
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[WP] MCing. DJing. B-boying. Graffiti. Only the Avatar can master all four elements and bring balance to hip hop.
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MC. DJ. B-boy. Graffiti.
Long ago the four nations lived in harmony.
Then everything changed when the B-boys attacked.
Only the Avatar, master of all four styles, could stop 'em.
But when the street needed him most, he vanished.
100 years later, me and my brotha Dre discovered the new Avatar, a graffiti artist named Marshal.
And although his graffiti been on point, he got a lot to learn before he ready to save anyone.
But I believe Marshal can save the world.
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https://soundcloud.com/part-time-tunafish/drop-it-like-its-korra
**Drop it Like It's Korra**
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[WP]How did the crazy cat lady become the crazy cat lady?
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A few months ago, or maybe years- it didn't really matter, but it was just after Thanksgiving, she remembered that much- Annica Barrows owned two cats. Just those two. As she lay on the ground, her face cooling on the wood floor, she could see feet pacing occasionally back and forth from the slit of light under her apartment door; hear the heavy steps of her hugely fat, mostly reclusive-except-to-buy-groceries neighbour as he passed her door to go to his flat down the hall, watch the sneakers of the lady pushing a baby carriage towards the dingy elevator. She could feel grains of kitty litter and food under her cheek and occasionally, she would shift her hand to brush away any particularly offensive grain, but for the most part, she was still. Annica could hear sounds behind her, as well- a near constant shuffling, shifting, mewing, shedding din of her herd, her favourite friends.
Her small apartment, which had previously held herself, Joni and Fargo, now barely accommodated her kitchen table, painstakingly moved up 4 flights of stairs (she remembered how it wouldn't fit in the elevator) or the rickety step stool Steven had left, declaring that he didn't want to leave her without any furniture, even though he had taken their good chairs. The step stool was a hunk of misshapen wood now, but it served a sentimental purpose and Annica used to threaten the stool daily with it's imminent eviction, it didn't really bother her and she stopped caring about it's presence, coming to fear it's absence. Her apartment could accommodate the old china set left to her by her Grandmother, but even still with the painted white cupboards being mostly empty, the cups lay strewn now in the sink, unwashed, and the plates held only traces of the dainty rose pattern that used to lace their edges- now covered in a dust that seemed to have settled itself over everything. Especially over Annica. The apartment could most definitely not accommodate no less than 17 cats, let alone herself.
*17, 17...* How had it gotten so bad? Annica brushed her cheek, removing whatever dug itself in. She couldn't really remember. She remembered Thanksgiving, and even before that, she remembered the fragile feeling that lay between her and Steven- the feeling that it was more tenuous than most people's feelings were. Like a live wire. Annica, wide eyes always shifting around his face and eyes, searching to find the source of his displeasure, looking to see that everything was okay. Steven, face warm, all smiles, eyes that didn't betray any nervousness- or love, either. Always the *are you happy, what are you thinking about, do you love me*. Annica was able to feign a sort of levity, a sort of ease that now seemed impossible, for a while. A year? More? Thinking back that far felt like a dream, something she felt so far away from now, as she fixed her gaze to a piece of Iams cat food resting by her door stopper.
She felt certain, or at least relatively certain, of a few things. There had been a child. Whether it was hers, she remained unsure, but she had loved something else beside Steven. There had always been Joni and Fargo, from the beginning- but where they were now, she wasn't entirely sure, she assumed they were somewhere in the mass behind her, scratching and clawing and constantly yowling to be fed. She knew they hadn't been going outside, so behind her, they would have to be. She remembered Steven's face, not laughing, eyes not meeting, *Ann- I think you need... you need serious help, I'm sorry Ann, I really... I swear to God I am* and her pleading, begging, even after he was gone. She remembered before that a sensation of loss, deep and profound, murking up her memory and clouding the edges of events. *I just can't do this anymore*
She remembered the SNAP, the sensation of all of that fragility, all of that tension recoiling back at her and hitting her like a wall. She remembered stumbling home, a mix of bottle after bottle, prescription medicines- was that before or after? And she remembered when it all got really bad, and then even worse, and then she remembered that it had stopped.
The first time it subsided was with Marley, the scowling kitten she had found behind the dumpster of her building. She didn't think about it, she scooped him up and up to her apartment she went. Joni and Fargo adopted him happily. The second, third and fourth cat was a surprise to her. One of the neighbours down the hall had asked her to watch the cats- their daughter was allergic and they needed someone to take them while they got ready to move into their new Brownstone. Ziggy, Zag and Snoot were their names, and Annica obliged. But that was a long time ago, Annica surmised from her floor space, and they didn't ever come back for them.
And of course, it wasn't long before Ziggy and one of the others took too much of a liking to each other and she went from 6 cats to 12.
During this time, she knew that she had to call somebody to get them to be taken away, but she didn't really want to, either. She enjoyed coming home to furry faces pressing up against her legs, mewling and crying out to be fed, loved, watered. She didn't enjoy the stench of the litter boxes- but she cleaned them every day (or at least, she used to) and she was able to manage. Food was a nightmare with how expensive it was, though.
It was at this point she noticed people in the apartment began to look at her differently.
Mothers would drop eye contact with her, children would beg to come over and play with the cats- and one time, a new family let their daughter come by to pet them after meeting Annica in the elevator. Their daughter squealed when she saw the pets, and sat down right in the middle of the floor and let them snuggle up to her. Annica remembered smiling at the little girl's exclamations of sheer joy as one of the younger kittens - somewhere along the way more kittens had come - nosed her chin and demanded attention. She remembered the brisk *knock knock* on her door as the girls parents came back to collect her and the dawning expressions of pity and disgust on their faces as Annica opened the door to them, their eyes taking in the soiled newspapers on the ground, the mild stench of feces, booze and urine, the furry mass squirming around their daughter, covering her in a blanket, the filthy floor covered in clothes, take out food containers, empty pill bottles, wine bottles, every type of bottle, fashion magazines. *Sorry for the mess* she remembers saying blandly, the father walking in and scooping up his daughter from the ground as she protested. Annica remembered offering a weak smile to the mother, who offered one back but, as Annica searched this woman's face, the smile was without warmth. The little girl waved her whole arm at Annica and told her that she'd *be back real soon!* and *mommy can't I pleaaaaase please please have a kitty pleaaaase* and the mother and father saying they would talk later and them practically hauling their daughter away from Annica's apartment.
As she lay on the floor, watching the door, she heard the sound of the ding from the elevator, and dimly thought she heard heavy boots and quiet voices from the hall. *do you think she's home I mean it's really just disgusting those poor creatures. You hear of people dying and cats eating them do you think* Annica let her thoughts wander back to the pain in her ribs, the feeling of something being very wrong when she breathed- her gaze landing on the now completely shattered old stepstool- why had she tried to go up there? *I mean could she be totally nuts what if she's dead what if the cats are all dead. Fucking cat ladies just the worst it's total animal abuse* She felt a nose poking behind her ear but she wasn't sure which one it was, there were so many now and besides, they wanted to be fed and they were hungry and it had been a while she had been laying here now.
*Knock knock knock*
Visitors? Annica couldn't move from where she was even if she wanted to and she couldn't really breath, let alone utter any sounds. *Let them knock I'm not hurting anybody* and *Annica? This is your neighbour- I have some people here that need to come in* she closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of knocking and scratching *are you okay?* and yowling and the *ma'am, we're going to break down the door* sounds of the *call an ambulance just in case, better get animal control down here* apartment around her.
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It all started at the shelter.
Susan walked into her local animal shelter, just to feed the cats, as she always had. She would walk to every cage and feed them cold turkey, and pet them a little bit, then walk away, sad, as the kittens meowed in sadness, as nobody would adopt them. Six years of this had gone to her head, and she finally decided to do something. She went home and chugged all the wine in her house, then turned the left-over bottles into Molotov cocktails. She went into the basement and got her late husband's gun from the war. Now she was drunk and armed.
Susan drove to the bank and threw the cocktails into the windows and watched as the lobby burst into flames. She knew that this kind of destruction would distract all the police. Susan drove down down the street throwing the cocktails into every store she saw. All the death and destruction had totally corrupted her mind, and she started cackling while driving down the street, towards the airport.
Once there, she took out her husband's gun and ran threw the airport (a very small airport, mind you) and stole a helicopter. In her drunken rage, she carved a path of destruction through the city towards the shelter. She "landed" the helicopter on the roof of the shelter and went inside. Susan managed to get every single cat into the helicopter. Once the fuel was running low, many hours later, she tied the cages of cats together and strapped a parachute to them. She put a parachute on herself and jumped out of the helicopter, letting it crash into the American farmland in a magnificent explosion.
Susan now spends her days in a little home in a small town, with her 532 cats.
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Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
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[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
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I
Marty of the Castelli family of the town of Draco, and above all, of short stature and shorter fuse, walked along a cliffside with head down and fists clenched.
A jaw-lockingly sheer face punctuated at it's end by a decidedly large family of rocks that provided a margin between the stones and sea, it did not phase Marty who tiptoed along the edge with arms outstretched, wavering them for balance.
This did not scare Marty. Much as one who is raised by wolves, being born by a cliffside gives someone a certain dull edge towards danger. Time has a tendency to wrap itself around things in one's mind and soften them, and all the inhabitants of the town of Draco had much larger things to worry about than falling to their death. Dragons, for one. Four of them. Locked in cages in the town square. Aside from the dragons some foolish inventors with cloth sails had proved without a doubt that falling from the cliff was of no fearsome matter for by the time you realized you had fallen off you were instantly killed by a mix of physics and rocks.
Arriving, Marty plopped down and stared emptily at the sunset. A bucketful of boiling gold just barely touched the horizon of sapphire sea at the imperceptible line between blue and blue, ocean and sky, and a belt of deep purple stained itself across the clouds.
"Nervous?"
A voice wavered out, squeaky and small, from the bushline behind Marty.
Once both of the heart rates slowed, a reply shot back, stunted.
"No."
"You look nervous..."
"Well I'm not!"
A well thrown clump of dirt struck the intruder on the shoulder and exploded into anticlimax.
Hari sat down beside Marty, who had still refused to look at him directly.
"Why did you follow me? Do you fancy me or something?"
"No, I-"
"Because you and I both know my father wouldn't approve."
"No, I don't fancy you." A certain word of the sentence wavered, betraying Hari's attempt at a monotone. He continued,
"But you are nervous, no?"
Marty looked forward, took a deep breath, and burst in to tears.
Hari raised his arms for a quiet second before a puzzled expression flashed across his face. He lowered them.
"Why... ehm... why are-"
"You know why! You and your stupid friends know exactly why! Girls aren't supposed to ride dragons!"
"You don't know that..."
"Well there haven't been any yet and dragons have been tamed for... For"
"Six hundred cycles?" Hari hazarded.
"See! I can't even remember the basic histories!"
"But your animal skills-"
Marty's voice cracked as she spat back,
"Oh yeah, when we chase cats around the courtyards? LIke that's any help. They don't even like me! They're just not scared of me!"
Hari raised a finger and inhaled, but noticed that Marty's expression had changed from exasperant sobs to slit-eyed stubborness and lowered it. Ignoring every urge in his body to act as a mythical figure and kiss the princess (well, Duke's daughter but it was about the best he'd ever do) he stood and gave her a waist-high wave.
"Well, uhm, I'll... see you tomorrow?"
Marty's reply came as a half-slurp,
"Not if I throw myself off the cliff."
Hari hesitated,
"Not until you have something to catch you.
A few more sobs and a direct view of the descent of the sun in to the realms of night and Marty wiped her eyes on the brown cloth of her plainclothes and walked back to the small fortress her lousy father called a castle. Albeit upon return she walked more cautiously for the dark blurred the distinction between earth and air and she did not want to die, realization or not.
Marty, Martina, Castelli, of town Draco. The little flame, as her mother called her, burned with embarrassment at her outburst to Hari. Hari. Of the family Muellen, friends with the other two Riders of the town who poked fun and threw balled up papers at her in lessons. Curse them all. She hoped silently that she was granted Fusa, the fire dragon. Then she could spit oily flame and ignite clouds and fly over the horizon to the sun itself. Maybe Terro, the earthly one, so she could have it's grainy wings wrap around her and burrow down, down, down, where insults and giggles would give way to silence and mystery. At least, at least, Agua. The serpent. Thin and long, it would be able to take her to depths unexplored of the Green Sea. Just not.... Just not...
(woops, way over the word limit. other parts in comments. also, protagonist is a girl not a boy. sue me.)
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In a time of the kings of old a pact was forged to end an undying war; upon every full moon a man and a dragon shall meld souls to live as one. Typically the two were joined at a young age it was easier on the minds of both as their ideals and morals would develop together. Every full moon the dragons brought a clutch of eggs to the villages of man in each of the 5 territories. Every baby born since the last moon was brought to the town square for one to be chosen by the dragons. At sundown, on a night of the full moon, the people gather with the dragons and listen as the Eldest of the dragons begins the ceremony.
"Brothers and sisters of Falren, let us begin the choosing." He said as the air grew silent. "Please come forward with the children."
Both parties brought out their young. Of course the noblemen had brought their children to the front as was customary amongst the humans, law in fact. Not many words were spoken, when a connection was made it was always quite apparent to all. A few minutes pass as each parent brings their child up to the large clutch of colorful eggs. A few minutes pass and a few begin to murmur amongst each other, never before has it taken very long for there to be an interaction of souls. The dragons being patient show no never mind to the time passing.
The air feels heavy as the second to last child is pulled away from the center of the square. Much talk is already happening as the last woman, with no father to carry her son to the front brings her child forward. It was law to bring every child to the square for the ceremony, but none wanted this woman to bring her bastard child forward. Considering her a disgrace to even show up one nobleman stood in front of her impeding her path to the eggs.
"Surely there is a mistake Elder?" The nobleman questioned. "This woman is a harlot and could never bear a child of any significance."
"Human do you mean to interrupt a great meeting as such with your feeble words? You are the disgrace here." With a growl so loud all could feel it reverberate into their own chests the Old one asked, "Won't you take your place and hold your tongue before I hold it for you?"
The man with a lump in his throat took his seat and stared at the floor.
The Dragons didn't show it but they too were skeptical, never yet has a child been linked to a dragon before who was born a bastard. Yet they welcomed her with smiles. As she approached there were no obvious signs as with some. Once the two made their way to the eggs one began to hum. The dragons looked slightly surprised but before much though could happen the Elder began to speak, "And so the bond of man and dragon shall continue. A son of no man and a friend too all this child shall be a most proclaimed child indeed.
As was customary the dragon would give his regular speech of commingled races and peace and end with the explanation of the elemental ways of the dragons and what sort of union the two shall share. "The Dragons of fire and power. The fiercest of our race. The human who bonds with these dragons shall be most powerful and an excellent leader of man. But this child is not of the fire clans."A sigh of relief is faintly heard of the noblemen.
"The Dragons of water and peace. The healers of our race. The human who bonds with these dragons shall be a life giver and a peace giver amongst man. But this child is not of the water clans"
"The Dragons of wind and speed. The most skillful of our race. The human who bonds with these dragons shall be masterful at whatever they strive to achieve, be it smith work to artistry. But this child is not of the wind flock."
He goes on, "The Dragons of Earth and hardiness. The vigilant and true of our race. The human who bonds with these dragons will be stalwart and vigil always true to his word amongst men." a pause as he reads the child further. "But nor is he of this quarry."
The mother cries "Surely there is a mistake? Is he not the child worthy of the union?"
"A breed not since seen since nearly a millennia ago. A breed to signify a new age approaches. The wise teachers of all things.
"What use are books and words to a word of dragons and men. A useless binding and what better fit then a useless bastard!" A man yelled in the crowd.
The man then grew pale as a ghost and began to grasp his neck.
"With the power of air is not only great wisdom, but the power of mental manipulation."
The man dropped to his knees gasping for air.
"These two shall teach man things but also have great power. They will need to come with me so I can teach them and keep them from becoming corrupt."
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Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
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[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
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This turned out a lot longer than I expected!
The shrill screams of circling matriarchs in the vast skies above nearly made me turn back. I swallowed down my fear-laced bile and trudged on through the bramble and steep hills. The shallow lacerations on my hands and arms stung like the future lashes I'd receive from my friends if I didn't succeed. A kid without a dragon? They were considered lame. Kyle had his immense Fire dragon, whose tail blazed like the sun; Marissa had her elegant Earth dragon, sturdy like the mountains I was currently stranded in. Through my lonely journey, I could only dream of what dragon I would raise and train: its wings would spread wide as the seven seas, its roar would shake foundations, and it would love with a love unknown to any other trainer.
Female dragons fiercely protected their clutches, using their staple abilities associated with their attribute to slay their foes. Fire dragons would incinerate me, Water dragons would drown me, and Earth dragons would maul me if they caught me attempting to steal one of their offsprings. I was the definition of a fool to trek deep into the Dragon Dens in an attempt to steal an egg to impress my friends; I was an idiot determined. A map crunched in my shaky hands. Dusted and heavily worn, it revealed the easiest path to one of the Dragon's dens. Ironically, the text above the curved arrows that directed which den belonged to which breed of the wild dragons was scratched out - I was going in blind. At the point I was at, I didn't care if I walked out with a convincing dragon-egg-looking-rock. I just needed something.
Air thinned dangerously low until my normal breaths transformed into an airy pant. I slowed my pace and focused on the rocky trail below me. It waved and swerved off to the left until I arrived at the mouth of a sinister cave. Stalactites formed teeth for the cave, pointing down directly to a disappearing decline. The matriarchs on patrol were more wary for hungry aerial predators than they were for adolescent boys sneaking into their nests and snatching their eggs. I glanced up for reassurance that they would not notice me slip in. My head continued to loft up until my eyesight adjusted to the to the dank innards of the cave. It smelled of rancid... something. The combined smell and lack of oxygen rendered me to a lazy stagger.
The cave only had one chamber: pitch black from being so far inside the rock. I forced myself onto my knees and prayed that I wouldn't slam into anything hard, or even a slumbering mother. I kept my hands away from the ground to preserve the burning bramble cuts on them, which only made my search more tedious. I scooted forward and aggravated enough dust to fill up my lungs. One arm was protectively held out to act as a barrier if I was to hit anything. Sharp, needle-like structures prodded into my hand. In fear, I retracted my arm and winced. I, instead, shoved out my foot to check what was in front of me. Straw receded under the pressure of my shoe: A nest! I valiantly stood up and nearly dove straight into the woven circle the dragon used as a bedding for her clutch. I quivered in pure delight as my palm brushed against something smooth and grooved - it reminded me of glass. I scooped up the object and rushed out of the cave, careful of the rock icicles above me on my way out.
Daylight stung at my eyes until they adapted back. I stood blinded and crazed with my sheer awe for what I held in my hands; it almost soothed the pain in my cut hands with its cool presence. I blinked away the light and began to nonchalantly stroll away from the cave and off of the mountain. The dragons were none the wiser. They wouldn't miss one baby, right? The path back to civilization was much easier than the climb up, it gave me time to admire my loot. It had an iridescence, unlike any other egg I had ever seen. Kyle spoke of his egg having molten slag running through deep cracks in the shell. Marissa told me her egg was heavy as a cow and spurted little ecosystems of life on the surface. Maybe I had found some new dragon breed? I gingerly tapped on the shell, only to receive a hollow clunk back. It was probably ready to hatch.
My father's horse patiently waited down at the slope of the mountain, his snout stuck in my traveling pack. I made sure to pack a bunch of ripe apples to keep him happy long enough while I captured my prize. A whistle brought his attention to me. He struggled to get the bag off his nose though eventually managed to rear his head to me. His reassuring whinny made me feel safe as I mounted and heeled his flank. The horse happily galloped far away from the mountain and back to my quaint town renowned for the raising of trained dragons.
No matter how badly I wanted to flaunt it off to my friends, I knew the best course of action would be to take it to the residential dragon expert to judge what type of egg I had snatched. He operated a small care and treatment shop for immature dragons and excelled in his knowledge with the lore surrounding the majestic beasts. Butterflies welled in my stomach every time I recanted the story he told about how dragons came to be in our world.
I tied up Jasper and gave him a hearty pat on his side before entering the cramped shop. Merlin, otherwise known as the Guru, waved and greeted me with his standard talk before he even noticed who I was. "Sampson?" he spoke, clearly taken aback by the object I cradled in my arm.
"Hey, Guru!" I began, a grin plastered to my face, "I caved into the pressure Kyle was putting onto me and went out and retrieved this." I offered out the egg with a triumphant eyebrow waggle.
He carefully took the egg from my hand and procured a jeweler's monocle from a drawer in his desk - with the way my precious egg looked, it's no wonder why he took out something fit for judging the finest of gems. He only relayed a grunt to convey his emotions. I tried to maintain my demeanor, but it slackened after he shook his head; he still refused to offer me any words. The expert fished for a pillow behind him to comfort the egg while he disappeared through a narrow corridor.
"I'm going with my gut on this," he finally murmured. He held a household hammer in his hand. I didn't have time to protest as he brought the hammer's head against the wall of my dragon's shell.
It shattered like glass. I rushed to the counter and gripped at the edge as he brushed away the fragments to reveal a pale and curled up creature.
It had no molten scales or a flaming tail, flowers didn't bloom along the ridge of its back, nor did it show any signs of owning gills. It had nothing.
"What is it?" I timidly asked, worried that I had somehow managed to grab a damaged dragon.
"It's an air dragon," Guru spoke in detachment.
"So it commands the wind?" Happiness began to fill up inside me, only to be drained instantly.
"No. It does nothing. It exists."
I twitched my eye, "So it has no element?"
"There are those in the clutch that do not inherit the parent's traits, leaving it a blank slate. They're shunned as outcasts because of their lack of a power," Guru shrugged and whipped around, continuing without a missing a beat, "you should probably release him to the wild and try again."
I slapped a handful of crumpled dollars on the counter. "I'd like to buy a blanket."
Guru chuckled and collected a folded square on a shelf above him. He offered it out to me and nodded, signaling wordlessly he wanted to give it to me for free. I still left him the dollars as I delicately scooped up my little bundle of nothing and tucked it protectively in the woolen blanket. My gaze never left the whelp as I exited the shop. All around me, the town moseyed about, carrying on with their chores and duties.
It rustled in the blankets and prompted me to reveal its head. Translucent eyelids flicked up to reveal a pair of milk-white serpentine irises. My heart leaped from my chest. "I'll name you Milk," I spoke to it cheerily as I fought back the tears that stung in the corners of my eyes. Milk didn't require any special abilities to win my heart. It was special in its own way, and I'd give it more love than Kyle and Marissa together could fathom.
"A-Are you a boy or a girl dragon...?" I asked Milk aloud as I shot it a lopsided grin. In reply, the dragon yawned and rustled its tiny wings.
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The Fire dragons lived on the volcanic islands, where heat and fire-rock was constantly being spewed into the air.
The Water dragons preferred the rocky cliffs, where the thundering ocean sent a constant spray of mist to bathe their wings.
The Earth dragons stayed in the endless mountain ranges, where a labyrinth of caves provided them shelter and security.
The Air dragons, however, resided in a place as useless as them: the desert. Barren, burning, and desolate, neither men nor beasts went into the wasteland that stretched past civilization.
No men but the Sand Wanderers, and no beasts but the Air Dragons.
The greater world considered both to be of equal worth. The Wanderers were looked at with disdain by the southern empire and with hatred by the northern warriors. The Sand Wanderers were forced to pay constant tribute to both lands, forced to kneel under both heels, and forced to beg for permission to continue their meager trade.
The Empire and Warrior Kings both had armies of dragons, powerful beasts that could raise the seas and breath fire and shake the earth.
The Wanderers had nothing. No soldiers, no wealth, and most importantly, no dragons.
At least, until Asha, the boy who would be known as the Great Uniter, stumbled upon an Air Dragon's nest.
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Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
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[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
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"A human will never choose you. Why would they want a stupid Air Dragon? Everyone knows you're useless."
His brothers and sisters were merciless in their taunting, cruel even.
He was the first Air Dragon born in centuries, long after they had been believed to have become extinct. Not much was known about them, since when they had been around there had been so few and far between. What was known about them was based on myth and assumptions which lead to the conclusion that Air Dragons were useless, since it wasn't apparent where they fit with the rest of the elemental dragons.
Arun had never paid much attention to his siblings' taunts; after all that's what siblings did. His mother had always reassured him that he was no different than any other dragon and that any young human boy would be lucky to have him as his dragon. His mother's words were comforting, but as he grew, he started to see the truth in his siblings' taunts. When they would visit the human villages, none of the young humans would ever approach him. They were all too busy playing with the elemental dragons. But despite the reality of his situation, he never lost faith. If the Air Dragons of old had found humans to bond with, why couldn't he?
Patience was a virtue and so Arun waited, waited until he reached his first full year of life. When a dragon turned a year old and the village boys turned 16, it was time for The Choosing; the time of year where boys chose dragons and dragons chose boys. It was a two way street; the dragon had to want to bond with the boy and vice versa. It couldn't work if one party wasn't in agreement.
Despite protests from his siblings', Arun followed them to the local village that day, assembling at the outskirts of the village, getting right in line with the other yearlings who eagerly awaited The Choosing. When the other yearlings spotted him, some snickered in his direction while others looked confused as to why he was there. He ignored them all, sitting ever so patiently, wondering if today would be the day for him. They could say what they wanted and make fun of him, but he knew in his little heart that there was a boy there today that was meant to be his.
The sound of shuffling footsteps would draw his attention from the snickers of the other yearlings, his pale yellow eyes watching the procession of boys as they too formed a line just as the dragons had. Anticipation filled the air as the village elders made their speech, recounting how the bonding between boy and dragon had been going on since the beginning of time. Arun barely heard a thing that was said; he was too busy observing the boys, going down the line, trying to figure out which boy was his. But his observations were cut short as the bonding began, the first boy in line going out to choose his dragon.
Slowly the line began to get shorter and shorter on both sides, yet Arun remained, his hope of finding his boy slowly vanishing with each pair that took off. The last boy in line came out for his turn, briefly turning to Arun before deciding on the water dragon a little ways down, the only other dragon left. He watched the new pair disappear with a heavy heart. Maybe his siblings had been right.
"Wait! Am I too late?" The sound of a boy's voice had his heart leaping into his throat as a boy he'd never seen before came running in. He rushed up to the elders, explaining why he had been so late and if there was still a chance for him to get a dragon. The elders pointed to Arun, explaining that he was better off waiting till next year when he could get an elemental dragon instead of an Air Dragon. The boy turned in Arun's direction, his blue and brown eyes meeting the yearling's pale yellow ones.
"No I want him." The boy announced with certainty, walking with purpose towards the silvery dragon. Arun inclined his horned head, his heart pounding in his massive chest, tail dancing behind him with uncertainty. Could this be his boy?
Without hesitation the boy would approach Arun, reaching up to touch his muzzle, his fingers running over the rough scales of the yearling. A rumble resonated in Arun's chest at the boy's touch, a warmth spreading throughout him. The boy gasped in surprise, startling Arun. What was going on? He would look down at himself, watching as his silvery scales shimmered and shifted as they took on the deep crimson color of the Fire dragons. A heat stirred in his belly; a heat that he'd never felt there before. He looked in bewilderment at the boy, who had taken his hand off the dragon and was looking at him in wonder. How was this possible?
The boy put his hand back on the dragon and again he watched as the yearling's scaled shimmered and shifted into a cool azure shade of Water dragons, the heat in his belly disappearing. The boy repeated the process twice more and twice more Arun's changed into an Earth dragon and then a Wind Dragon. After the last change he returned to his normal silvery shade, looking every bit as ordinary as he had just minutes before the boy had touched him.
It was only after he'd returned to normal that he knew for certain this was the boy he was meant to bond with and it seemed the boy felt the same way.
"I knew I'd find you." The boy whispered to his dragon, voicing Arun's thoughts. His mother had been right all along.
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The Fire dragons lived on the volcanic islands, where heat and fire-rock was constantly being spewed into the air.
The Water dragons preferred the rocky cliffs, where the thundering ocean sent a constant spray of mist to bathe their wings.
The Earth dragons stayed in the endless mountain ranges, where a labyrinth of caves provided them shelter and security.
The Air dragons, however, resided in a place as useless as them: the desert. Barren, burning, and desolate, neither men nor beasts went into the wasteland that stretched past civilization.
No men but the Sand Wanderers, and no beasts but the Air Dragons.
The greater world considered both to be of equal worth. The Wanderers were looked at with disdain by the southern empire and with hatred by the northern warriors. The Sand Wanderers were forced to pay constant tribute to both lands, forced to kneel under both heels, and forced to beg for permission to continue their meager trade.
The Empire and Warrior Kings both had armies of dragons, powerful beasts that could raise the seas and breath fire and shake the earth.
The Wanderers had nothing. No soldiers, no wealth, and most importantly, no dragons.
At least, until Asha, the boy who would be known as the Great Uniter, stumbled upon an Air Dragon's nest.
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Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
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[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
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"Wait, don't you mean you're a wind dragon?" he asked, only familiar with the four classic elemental dragons.
"I meant what I said boy! I'm an air dragon, from a long proud line of air dragons before me. We made air since before there was air. You're breathing what we wove since time immemorial," responded the dragon with indignation.
"So exactly how old are you?" he wondered aloud, with new-found curiosity.
"Thought that'd get your attention, boy! Well the first of my clan..."
"Prove it," the boy demanded sharply, cutting off his companion.
"Well sure, whatever you like. It's been a long time since I took a human's orders, but I'm happy to oblige. Whatdaya need?"
After wandering the city's darker parts for a few hours, the boy and his dragon came across a man violently robbing a woman.
"Make air in that man's body," requested the boy.
"Which one's a man?" the dragon asked.
"The one running away, he's wearing a red turban, like mine," said the boy, pointing to the man.
In moments the mugger stopped running and fell to the ground, clutching his chest. The man died in moments from the air embolism in his heart.
"So what happens now?" the dragon asked the boy.
"Now we return the woman's purse to her and start our new lives as heroes in this town!" the boy proclaimed proudly.
The boy reclaimed the snatched purse and approached it's rightful owner. Yet, the woman only saw the boy point at her assailant before he collapsed. She could not see the invisible air dragon following his new master, and so the only thanks the boy received was from the woman was, "*Aaaah*, Sorcerer!" before she fled from him in terror.
The boy quietly held the purse, unsure what to do next. After a moment of awkward silence, the dragon finally said, "Wow, humans are really weird."
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The Fire dragons lived on the volcanic islands, where heat and fire-rock was constantly being spewed into the air.
The Water dragons preferred the rocky cliffs, where the thundering ocean sent a constant spray of mist to bathe their wings.
The Earth dragons stayed in the endless mountain ranges, where a labyrinth of caves provided them shelter and security.
The Air dragons, however, resided in a place as useless as them: the desert. Barren, burning, and desolate, neither men nor beasts went into the wasteland that stretched past civilization.
No men but the Sand Wanderers, and no beasts but the Air Dragons.
The greater world considered both to be of equal worth. The Wanderers were looked at with disdain by the southern empire and with hatred by the northern warriors. The Sand Wanderers were forced to pay constant tribute to both lands, forced to kneel under both heels, and forced to beg for permission to continue their meager trade.
The Empire and Warrior Kings both had armies of dragons, powerful beasts that could raise the seas and breath fire and shake the earth.
The Wanderers had nothing. No soldiers, no wealth, and most importantly, no dragons.
At least, until Asha, the boy who would be known as the Great Uniter, stumbled upon an Air Dragon's nest.
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Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
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[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
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Ned came to an abrupt stop, gasping for breath. It seemed he had been running for ages, but glancing up, he noticed the familiar cherry tree that marked the halfway point from the Knight's Tower and his cottage.
"How could this happen", he inquired helplessly. "Everyone around me got a cool dragon", he lamented. William received a char-black fire dragon-- *Hades* as he called him. Timmy, the helpless idiot boy, received a beautiful azure dragon, whose shade rivaled the depths of the ocean. A water dragon, unseen in the north in 200 years. Even his younger brother received a Earth dragon, which he named *Clay*. Ned's anger began to rise, "He's too young to even appreciate it"
Ned fell back helplessly to the dirt, content to stare aimlessly into the sky. Air dragons were useless, ever since the dawn on the New Age, every dragon mastered the arts of air. It was in their *blood*, as Mage Manion would tell him. The beauty of swift aerial tricks were commonplace in the skies above the keep. It was old, boring. An air dragon meant a simple life. Never would Ned be hired as a mercenary for the South Kingdom's battles, a tradition older than his clan. Never would he capture the seductive gazes of maidens. He was plain, boring, an *air rider*-- a phrase too raw to even whisper from his lips.
In an instant, the visions of the blue sky painted with large, swollen clouds disappeared, blocked by a grotesque face. It was Hanly, the village monstrosity. He was massive, hunched of back. His skin darkened by the endless hours spent outside-- no one would think of letting him into their home. Even talking to him could make Ned the subject of derision. But he didn't care, his life was *over*.
"What's wrong boy", Hanly rasped. His voice would send shivers down the backs of the most seasoned knights, but his face- his all familiar smile- clashed with his cry.
Ned huffed, "Today was the Dragon's Pick."
"Aye, I heard. The tradition always sets the city aflame with talks of the next great rider", Hanly fidgeted. "So, what'd you get? A sturdy Earthen like your father? No, no, I see the fire in your eyes. You got a bitch meaner than the devil himself".
"I-I got a Air Dragon", he stammered.
Hanly's eyes widened. And in an instant, he whipped his head back with laughter. "An *air rider*! AHAHAHAHAHA".
Ned angrily rose and began to strike the helpless man savagely, hitting every part of him left exposed from his futile shielding. Hanly quickly began to hobble away, his laugh still whispering behind him.
Ned crashed to the floor once again, tears welling in his eye's. As he closed his eyes, wishing for a new life, Ned felt a cold sensation creep down his neck. Quickly turning around, Ned spotted the dragon--his dragon, nuzzling his soft nose on his shoulder.
"He followed me here", Ned thought.
The dragon was by no means beautiful. He had scaly yellow skin. His tail curled at an odd angle. His right wing had a slight scar, from a particularly rough fight between his brothers for his mothers teat. But there was something odd about him-- his smile. Every dragon Ned had seen painted had a fierce gaze. Never had he seen a dragon *smiling*. Ned began to stroke the dragon's head.
"I never did name you", he muttered. A slow smile began to creep across his face. "How about Whisper?".
The dragon sent a booming screech through the forest. Surely he was the loudest dragon Ned ever heard. The irony sent him into a fit of laughter, rolling in the dirt.
He was perfect.
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The Fire dragons lived on the volcanic islands, where heat and fire-rock was constantly being spewed into the air.
The Water dragons preferred the rocky cliffs, where the thundering ocean sent a constant spray of mist to bathe their wings.
The Earth dragons stayed in the endless mountain ranges, where a labyrinth of caves provided them shelter and security.
The Air dragons, however, resided in a place as useless as them: the desert. Barren, burning, and desolate, neither men nor beasts went into the wasteland that stretched past civilization.
No men but the Sand Wanderers, and no beasts but the Air Dragons.
The greater world considered both to be of equal worth. The Wanderers were looked at with disdain by the southern empire and with hatred by the northern warriors. The Sand Wanderers were forced to pay constant tribute to both lands, forced to kneel under both heels, and forced to beg for permission to continue their meager trade.
The Empire and Warrior Kings both had armies of dragons, powerful beasts that could raise the seas and breath fire and shake the earth.
The Wanderers had nothing. No soldiers, no wealth, and most importantly, no dragons.
At least, until Asha, the boy who would be known as the Great Uniter, stumbled upon an Air Dragon's nest.
|
Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
|
[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
|
(Taking this away from the Avatar concept a bit)
The skin-and-bones youth of 12 years, 364 days, and 23.5 hours stood outside the carved oaken door in the earliest hours of the morning waiting for the sun to rise. He felt no urge to pace or fidget, instead watching the first rays of light settle over the village. Like all 13-year-olds he had been looking forward to this day for three years.
His father had been chosen by a Water dragon, a fierce tsunami of a creature, ever unpredictable in its moods and actions. His mother, meanwhile, a Fire; warm, strong, essential. His eldest brother and sister had both been Waters as well while his middle sister had been selected (surprisingly) by an Earth. Who would have thought that the whimsical wil-o-the-wisp who drifted about the village would be steadfast and surefooted even in the rockiest of times?
His younger siblings, the twins, would be Winds. That was easy to see. It was difficult to keep up with them as they flitted from place to place, dancing merrily to wherever the breeze led them.
But which type of Dragon would choose him?
The carved wooden door creaked open as the sun brushed against the seemingly ancient carvings that graced its frame. "It's time," the village elder yawned as he held open the door for the boy. Peeking inside the dark building, he took a deep breath and stepped inside.
All was as he had been told for years. Five small eggs were laid in a circle in the heart of the room, each bathed in its element. The Fire egg crackled and burned, the Water egg shone and swirled with moisture that danced beneath a thin frame of ice, the Earth egg sat sturdily in a shell of what appeared to be limestone, the Wind egg was nested within a steady but gentle cyclone that twisted only over the shell. Meanwhile, unsurprisingly, the Air egg... sat there. It was an ordinary Dragon egg and nothing more.
With a nod from the village elder the boy stepped into the center of the circle. He took a deep breath, glancing from egg to egg, anticipation rising in his throat. Who would he be once his Dragon had chosen him?
"It's almost time," the elder murmured as two of the eggs shook gently. "I assume you know the tradition, lad?"
"Yes, sir," he replied. "The Dragon that hatches from the egg first is the Dragon that chooses me."
"Correct. The Dragon that chooses will be yours to protect and to care for in its youth and, as it grows, will come to be your protector and partner. Your fates will be forever intertwined. And when one of you dies..."
"Both of us." The boy nodded solemnly. "I know, Elder."
"Very well, lad. Now look; the time has come!"
Four of the eggs were moving, wiggling back and forth, the little creatures within curious and considering breaking free. The boy knelt before the first; Wind. Gently he reached out and laid a finger upon the whirling shell... and the egg calmed.
He would not be chosen by a Wind.
The boy was not surprised. With cautious certainty, he turned to the next egg, Water. A touch. The shaking ceased. Not Water, then.
The same with Earth. As his finger brushed the sandy shell, the egg became as still as a stone.
That left...
"Air...?" The elder asked the otherwise empty room.
The boy's heart fell as his gaze fell upon the last wriggling egg. An Air Dragon? They were... well, there hadn't been an Air Dragon in the village in the last 50 years. They didn't serve much of a purpose and, according to lore, neither did their masters.
His heart aching with shame, the boy slowly reached out to touch the egg. He paused before making contact. Perhaps it would be better to not have a Dragon? But no. All adults had Dragons. If he chose to become Dragonless he would forever be seen as a child in the eyes of the village.
He laid the full length of his hand upon the final shaking egg. As he made contact, the shell split down the middle. A soft but cheerful cry rose from the broken shell and as he pulled his hand away the boy looked down at the small translucent creature that would be bonded to him for life.
His disappointment melted away as the Dragon looked up at him, clouds drifting in the whites of its eyes. A small voice (his or the Dragon's, he would never know) whispered to his heart that all would be well. All elements are essential to life, and for all things there is a time.
"Air," the boy replied to the village elder's unanswered question as the small Dragon gently clawed its way up his wrist and wrapped itself around his forearm.
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The Fire dragons lived on the volcanic islands, where heat and fire-rock was constantly being spewed into the air.
The Water dragons preferred the rocky cliffs, where the thundering ocean sent a constant spray of mist to bathe their wings.
The Earth dragons stayed in the endless mountain ranges, where a labyrinth of caves provided them shelter and security.
The Air dragons, however, resided in a place as useless as them: the desert. Barren, burning, and desolate, neither men nor beasts went into the wasteland that stretched past civilization.
No men but the Sand Wanderers, and no beasts but the Air Dragons.
The greater world considered both to be of equal worth. The Wanderers were looked at with disdain by the southern empire and with hatred by the northern warriors. The Sand Wanderers were forced to pay constant tribute to both lands, forced to kneel under both heels, and forced to beg for permission to continue their meager trade.
The Empire and Warrior Kings both had armies of dragons, powerful beasts that could raise the seas and breath fire and shake the earth.
The Wanderers had nothing. No soldiers, no wealth, and most importantly, no dragons.
At least, until Asha, the boy who would be known as the Great Uniter, stumbled upon an Air Dragon's nest.
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Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
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[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
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"A human will never choose you. Why would they want a stupid Air Dragon? Everyone knows you're useless."
His brothers and sisters were merciless in their taunting, cruel even.
He was the first Air Dragon born in centuries, long after they had been believed to have become extinct. Not much was known about them, since when they had been around there had been so few and far between. What was known about them was based on myth and assumptions which lead to the conclusion that Air Dragons were useless, since it wasn't apparent where they fit with the rest of the elemental dragons.
Arun had never paid much attention to his siblings' taunts; after all that's what siblings did. His mother had always reassured him that he was no different than any other dragon and that any young human boy would be lucky to have him as his dragon. His mother's words were comforting, but as he grew, he started to see the truth in his siblings' taunts. When they would visit the human villages, none of the young humans would ever approach him. They were all too busy playing with the elemental dragons. But despite the reality of his situation, he never lost faith. If the Air Dragons of old had found humans to bond with, why couldn't he?
Patience was a virtue and so Arun waited, waited until he reached his first full year of life. When a dragon turned a year old and the village boys turned 16, it was time for The Choosing; the time of year where boys chose dragons and dragons chose boys. It was a two way street; the dragon had to want to bond with the boy and vice versa. It couldn't work if one party wasn't in agreement.
Despite protests from his siblings', Arun followed them to the local village that day, assembling at the outskirts of the village, getting right in line with the other yearlings who eagerly awaited The Choosing. When the other yearlings spotted him, some snickered in his direction while others looked confused as to why he was there. He ignored them all, sitting ever so patiently, wondering if today would be the day for him. They could say what they wanted and make fun of him, but he knew in his little heart that there was a boy there today that was meant to be his.
The sound of shuffling footsteps would draw his attention from the snickers of the other yearlings, his pale yellow eyes watching the procession of boys as they too formed a line just as the dragons had. Anticipation filled the air as the village elders made their speech, recounting how the bonding between boy and dragon had been going on since the beginning of time. Arun barely heard a thing that was said; he was too busy observing the boys, going down the line, trying to figure out which boy was his. But his observations were cut short as the bonding began, the first boy in line going out to choose his dragon.
Slowly the line began to get shorter and shorter on both sides, yet Arun remained, his hope of finding his boy slowly vanishing with each pair that took off. The last boy in line came out for his turn, briefly turning to Arun before deciding on the water dragon a little ways down, the only other dragon left. He watched the new pair disappear with a heavy heart. Maybe his siblings had been right.
"Wait! Am I too late?" The sound of a boy's voice had his heart leaping into his throat as a boy he'd never seen before came running in. He rushed up to the elders, explaining why he had been so late and if there was still a chance for him to get a dragon. The elders pointed to Arun, explaining that he was better off waiting till next year when he could get an elemental dragon instead of an Air Dragon. The boy turned in Arun's direction, his blue and brown eyes meeting the yearling's pale yellow ones.
"No I want him." The boy announced with certainty, walking with purpose towards the silvery dragon. Arun inclined his horned head, his heart pounding in his massive chest, tail dancing behind him with uncertainty. Could this be his boy?
Without hesitation the boy would approach Arun, reaching up to touch his muzzle, his fingers running over the rough scales of the yearling. A rumble resonated in Arun's chest at the boy's touch, a warmth spreading throughout him. The boy gasped in surprise, startling Arun. What was going on? He would look down at himself, watching as his silvery scales shimmered and shifted as they took on the deep crimson color of the Fire dragons. A heat stirred in his belly; a heat that he'd never felt there before. He looked in bewilderment at the boy, who had taken his hand off the dragon and was looking at him in wonder. How was this possible?
The boy put his hand back on the dragon and again he watched as the yearling's scaled shimmered and shifted into a cool azure shade of Water dragons, the heat in his belly disappearing. The boy repeated the process twice more and twice more Arun's changed into an Earth dragon and then a Wind Dragon. After the last change he returned to his normal silvery shade, looking every bit as ordinary as he had just minutes before the boy had touched him.
It was only after he'd returned to normal that he knew for certain this was the boy he was meant to bond with and it seemed the boy felt the same way.
"I knew I'd find you." The boy whispered to his dragon, voicing Arun's thoughts. His mother had been right all along.
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This turned out a lot longer than I expected!
The shrill screams of circling matriarchs in the vast skies above nearly made me turn back. I swallowed down my fear-laced bile and trudged on through the bramble and steep hills. The shallow lacerations on my hands and arms stung like the future lashes I'd receive from my friends if I didn't succeed. A kid without a dragon? They were considered lame. Kyle had his immense Fire dragon, whose tail blazed like the sun; Marissa had her elegant Earth dragon, sturdy like the mountains I was currently stranded in. Through my lonely journey, I could only dream of what dragon I would raise and train: its wings would spread wide as the seven seas, its roar would shake foundations, and it would love with a love unknown to any other trainer.
Female dragons fiercely protected their clutches, using their staple abilities associated with their attribute to slay their foes. Fire dragons would incinerate me, Water dragons would drown me, and Earth dragons would maul me if they caught me attempting to steal one of their offsprings. I was the definition of a fool to trek deep into the Dragon Dens in an attempt to steal an egg to impress my friends; I was an idiot determined. A map crunched in my shaky hands. Dusted and heavily worn, it revealed the easiest path to one of the Dragon's dens. Ironically, the text above the curved arrows that directed which den belonged to which breed of the wild dragons was scratched out - I was going in blind. At the point I was at, I didn't care if I walked out with a convincing dragon-egg-looking-rock. I just needed something.
Air thinned dangerously low until my normal breaths transformed into an airy pant. I slowed my pace and focused on the rocky trail below me. It waved and swerved off to the left until I arrived at the mouth of a sinister cave. Stalactites formed teeth for the cave, pointing down directly to a disappearing decline. The matriarchs on patrol were more wary for hungry aerial predators than they were for adolescent boys sneaking into their nests and snatching their eggs. I glanced up for reassurance that they would not notice me slip in. My head continued to loft up until my eyesight adjusted to the to the dank innards of the cave. It smelled of rancid... something. The combined smell and lack of oxygen rendered me to a lazy stagger.
The cave only had one chamber: pitch black from being so far inside the rock. I forced myself onto my knees and prayed that I wouldn't slam into anything hard, or even a slumbering mother. I kept my hands away from the ground to preserve the burning bramble cuts on them, which only made my search more tedious. I scooted forward and aggravated enough dust to fill up my lungs. One arm was protectively held out to act as a barrier if I was to hit anything. Sharp, needle-like structures prodded into my hand. In fear, I retracted my arm and winced. I, instead, shoved out my foot to check what was in front of me. Straw receded under the pressure of my shoe: A nest! I valiantly stood up and nearly dove straight into the woven circle the dragon used as a bedding for her clutch. I quivered in pure delight as my palm brushed against something smooth and grooved - it reminded me of glass. I scooped up the object and rushed out of the cave, careful of the rock icicles above me on my way out.
Daylight stung at my eyes until they adapted back. I stood blinded and crazed with my sheer awe for what I held in my hands; it almost soothed the pain in my cut hands with its cool presence. I blinked away the light and began to nonchalantly stroll away from the cave and off of the mountain. The dragons were none the wiser. They wouldn't miss one baby, right? The path back to civilization was much easier than the climb up, it gave me time to admire my loot. It had an iridescence, unlike any other egg I had ever seen. Kyle spoke of his egg having molten slag running through deep cracks in the shell. Marissa told me her egg was heavy as a cow and spurted little ecosystems of life on the surface. Maybe I had found some new dragon breed? I gingerly tapped on the shell, only to receive a hollow clunk back. It was probably ready to hatch.
My father's horse patiently waited down at the slope of the mountain, his snout stuck in my traveling pack. I made sure to pack a bunch of ripe apples to keep him happy long enough while I captured my prize. A whistle brought his attention to me. He struggled to get the bag off his nose though eventually managed to rear his head to me. His reassuring whinny made me feel safe as I mounted and heeled his flank. The horse happily galloped far away from the mountain and back to my quaint town renowned for the raising of trained dragons.
No matter how badly I wanted to flaunt it off to my friends, I knew the best course of action would be to take it to the residential dragon expert to judge what type of egg I had snatched. He operated a small care and treatment shop for immature dragons and excelled in his knowledge with the lore surrounding the majestic beasts. Butterflies welled in my stomach every time I recanted the story he told about how dragons came to be in our world.
I tied up Jasper and gave him a hearty pat on his side before entering the cramped shop. Merlin, otherwise known as the Guru, waved and greeted me with his standard talk before he even noticed who I was. "Sampson?" he spoke, clearly taken aback by the object I cradled in my arm.
"Hey, Guru!" I began, a grin plastered to my face, "I caved into the pressure Kyle was putting onto me and went out and retrieved this." I offered out the egg with a triumphant eyebrow waggle.
He carefully took the egg from my hand and procured a jeweler's monocle from a drawer in his desk - with the way my precious egg looked, it's no wonder why he took out something fit for judging the finest of gems. He only relayed a grunt to convey his emotions. I tried to maintain my demeanor, but it slackened after he shook his head; he still refused to offer me any words. The expert fished for a pillow behind him to comfort the egg while he disappeared through a narrow corridor.
"I'm going with my gut on this," he finally murmured. He held a household hammer in his hand. I didn't have time to protest as he brought the hammer's head against the wall of my dragon's shell.
It shattered like glass. I rushed to the counter and gripped at the edge as he brushed away the fragments to reveal a pale and curled up creature.
It had no molten scales or a flaming tail, flowers didn't bloom along the ridge of its back, nor did it show any signs of owning gills. It had nothing.
"What is it?" I timidly asked, worried that I had somehow managed to grab a damaged dragon.
"It's an air dragon," Guru spoke in detachment.
"So it commands the wind?" Happiness began to fill up inside me, only to be drained instantly.
"No. It does nothing. It exists."
I twitched my eye, "So it has no element?"
"There are those in the clutch that do not inherit the parent's traits, leaving it a blank slate. They're shunned as outcasts because of their lack of a power," Guru shrugged and whipped around, continuing without a missing a beat, "you should probably release him to the wild and try again."
I slapped a handful of crumpled dollars on the counter. "I'd like to buy a blanket."
Guru chuckled and collected a folded square on a shelf above him. He offered it out to me and nodded, signaling wordlessly he wanted to give it to me for free. I still left him the dollars as I delicately scooped up my little bundle of nothing and tucked it protectively in the woolen blanket. My gaze never left the whelp as I exited the shop. All around me, the town moseyed about, carrying on with their chores and duties.
It rustled in the blankets and prompted me to reveal its head. Translucent eyelids flicked up to reveal a pair of milk-white serpentine irises. My heart leaped from my chest. "I'll name you Milk," I spoke to it cheerily as I fought back the tears that stung in the corners of my eyes. Milk didn't require any special abilities to win my heart. It was special in its own way, and I'd give it more love than Kyle and Marissa together could fathom.
"A-Are you a boy or a girl dragon...?" I asked Milk aloud as I shot it a lopsided grin. In reply, the dragon yawned and rustled its tiny wings.
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Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
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[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
|
"Wait, don't you mean you're a wind dragon?" he asked, only familiar with the four classic elemental dragons.
"I meant what I said boy! I'm an air dragon, from a long proud line of air dragons before me. We made air since before there was air. You're breathing what we wove since time immemorial," responded the dragon with indignation.
"So exactly how old are you?" he wondered aloud, with new-found curiosity.
"Thought that'd get your attention, boy! Well the first of my clan..."
"Prove it," the boy demanded sharply, cutting off his companion.
"Well sure, whatever you like. It's been a long time since I took a human's orders, but I'm happy to oblige. Whatdaya need?"
After wandering the city's darker parts for a few hours, the boy and his dragon came across a man violently robbing a woman.
"Make air in that man's body," requested the boy.
"Which one's a man?" the dragon asked.
"The one running away, he's wearing a red turban, like mine," said the boy, pointing to the man.
In moments the mugger stopped running and fell to the ground, clutching his chest. The man died in moments from the air embolism in his heart.
"So what happens now?" the dragon asked the boy.
"Now we return the woman's purse to her and start our new lives as heroes in this town!" the boy proclaimed proudly.
The boy reclaimed the snatched purse and approached it's rightful owner. Yet, the woman only saw the boy point at her assailant before he collapsed. She could not see the invisible air dragon following his new master, and so the only thanks the boy received was from the woman was, "*Aaaah*, Sorcerer!" before she fled from him in terror.
The boy quietly held the purse, unsure what to do next. After a moment of awkward silence, the dragon finally said, "Wow, humans are really weird."
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This turned out a lot longer than I expected!
The shrill screams of circling matriarchs in the vast skies above nearly made me turn back. I swallowed down my fear-laced bile and trudged on through the bramble and steep hills. The shallow lacerations on my hands and arms stung like the future lashes I'd receive from my friends if I didn't succeed. A kid without a dragon? They were considered lame. Kyle had his immense Fire dragon, whose tail blazed like the sun; Marissa had her elegant Earth dragon, sturdy like the mountains I was currently stranded in. Through my lonely journey, I could only dream of what dragon I would raise and train: its wings would spread wide as the seven seas, its roar would shake foundations, and it would love with a love unknown to any other trainer.
Female dragons fiercely protected their clutches, using their staple abilities associated with their attribute to slay their foes. Fire dragons would incinerate me, Water dragons would drown me, and Earth dragons would maul me if they caught me attempting to steal one of their offsprings. I was the definition of a fool to trek deep into the Dragon Dens in an attempt to steal an egg to impress my friends; I was an idiot determined. A map crunched in my shaky hands. Dusted and heavily worn, it revealed the easiest path to one of the Dragon's dens. Ironically, the text above the curved arrows that directed which den belonged to which breed of the wild dragons was scratched out - I was going in blind. At the point I was at, I didn't care if I walked out with a convincing dragon-egg-looking-rock. I just needed something.
Air thinned dangerously low until my normal breaths transformed into an airy pant. I slowed my pace and focused on the rocky trail below me. It waved and swerved off to the left until I arrived at the mouth of a sinister cave. Stalactites formed teeth for the cave, pointing down directly to a disappearing decline. The matriarchs on patrol were more wary for hungry aerial predators than they were for adolescent boys sneaking into their nests and snatching their eggs. I glanced up for reassurance that they would not notice me slip in. My head continued to loft up until my eyesight adjusted to the to the dank innards of the cave. It smelled of rancid... something. The combined smell and lack of oxygen rendered me to a lazy stagger.
The cave only had one chamber: pitch black from being so far inside the rock. I forced myself onto my knees and prayed that I wouldn't slam into anything hard, or even a slumbering mother. I kept my hands away from the ground to preserve the burning bramble cuts on them, which only made my search more tedious. I scooted forward and aggravated enough dust to fill up my lungs. One arm was protectively held out to act as a barrier if I was to hit anything. Sharp, needle-like structures prodded into my hand. In fear, I retracted my arm and winced. I, instead, shoved out my foot to check what was in front of me. Straw receded under the pressure of my shoe: A nest! I valiantly stood up and nearly dove straight into the woven circle the dragon used as a bedding for her clutch. I quivered in pure delight as my palm brushed against something smooth and grooved - it reminded me of glass. I scooped up the object and rushed out of the cave, careful of the rock icicles above me on my way out.
Daylight stung at my eyes until they adapted back. I stood blinded and crazed with my sheer awe for what I held in my hands; it almost soothed the pain in my cut hands with its cool presence. I blinked away the light and began to nonchalantly stroll away from the cave and off of the mountain. The dragons were none the wiser. They wouldn't miss one baby, right? The path back to civilization was much easier than the climb up, it gave me time to admire my loot. It had an iridescence, unlike any other egg I had ever seen. Kyle spoke of his egg having molten slag running through deep cracks in the shell. Marissa told me her egg was heavy as a cow and spurted little ecosystems of life on the surface. Maybe I had found some new dragon breed? I gingerly tapped on the shell, only to receive a hollow clunk back. It was probably ready to hatch.
My father's horse patiently waited down at the slope of the mountain, his snout stuck in my traveling pack. I made sure to pack a bunch of ripe apples to keep him happy long enough while I captured my prize. A whistle brought his attention to me. He struggled to get the bag off his nose though eventually managed to rear his head to me. His reassuring whinny made me feel safe as I mounted and heeled his flank. The horse happily galloped far away from the mountain and back to my quaint town renowned for the raising of trained dragons.
No matter how badly I wanted to flaunt it off to my friends, I knew the best course of action would be to take it to the residential dragon expert to judge what type of egg I had snatched. He operated a small care and treatment shop for immature dragons and excelled in his knowledge with the lore surrounding the majestic beasts. Butterflies welled in my stomach every time I recanted the story he told about how dragons came to be in our world.
I tied up Jasper and gave him a hearty pat on his side before entering the cramped shop. Merlin, otherwise known as the Guru, waved and greeted me with his standard talk before he even noticed who I was. "Sampson?" he spoke, clearly taken aback by the object I cradled in my arm.
"Hey, Guru!" I began, a grin plastered to my face, "I caved into the pressure Kyle was putting onto me and went out and retrieved this." I offered out the egg with a triumphant eyebrow waggle.
He carefully took the egg from my hand and procured a jeweler's monocle from a drawer in his desk - with the way my precious egg looked, it's no wonder why he took out something fit for judging the finest of gems. He only relayed a grunt to convey his emotions. I tried to maintain my demeanor, but it slackened after he shook his head; he still refused to offer me any words. The expert fished for a pillow behind him to comfort the egg while he disappeared through a narrow corridor.
"I'm going with my gut on this," he finally murmured. He held a household hammer in his hand. I didn't have time to protest as he brought the hammer's head against the wall of my dragon's shell.
It shattered like glass. I rushed to the counter and gripped at the edge as he brushed away the fragments to reveal a pale and curled up creature.
It had no molten scales or a flaming tail, flowers didn't bloom along the ridge of its back, nor did it show any signs of owning gills. It had nothing.
"What is it?" I timidly asked, worried that I had somehow managed to grab a damaged dragon.
"It's an air dragon," Guru spoke in detachment.
"So it commands the wind?" Happiness began to fill up inside me, only to be drained instantly.
"No. It does nothing. It exists."
I twitched my eye, "So it has no element?"
"There are those in the clutch that do not inherit the parent's traits, leaving it a blank slate. They're shunned as outcasts because of their lack of a power," Guru shrugged and whipped around, continuing without a missing a beat, "you should probably release him to the wild and try again."
I slapped a handful of crumpled dollars on the counter. "I'd like to buy a blanket."
Guru chuckled and collected a folded square on a shelf above him. He offered it out to me and nodded, signaling wordlessly he wanted to give it to me for free. I still left him the dollars as I delicately scooped up my little bundle of nothing and tucked it protectively in the woolen blanket. My gaze never left the whelp as I exited the shop. All around me, the town moseyed about, carrying on with their chores and duties.
It rustled in the blankets and prompted me to reveal its head. Translucent eyelids flicked up to reveal a pair of milk-white serpentine irises. My heart leaped from my chest. "I'll name you Milk," I spoke to it cheerily as I fought back the tears that stung in the corners of my eyes. Milk didn't require any special abilities to win my heart. It was special in its own way, and I'd give it more love than Kyle and Marissa together could fathom.
"A-Are you a boy or a girl dragon...?" I asked Milk aloud as I shot it a lopsided grin. In reply, the dragon yawned and rustled its tiny wings.
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Sort of like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but with dragons.
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[WP] A boy in a world of elemental dragons (Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind) receives a "useless" Air Dragon.
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At twenty years of age, everyone receives their own dragon.
There are four types of main dragons. The most dangerous is fire, which are said to be born within volcanoes, their first sulfurous breaths igniting flames deep within their chests that will last for life. Then there is water, which wash ashore on the ocean, rising from deeper than any man dare to go, and gifted with dominance over sea. Followed by wind, which falls to the earth like twirling leaves to become the director of storms, lightning, and sound. Then earth, found at the heart of gems, that shake the very ground itself and conquer mountains. There are many other types of dragons, though many are less powerful, and none desirable.
At twenty, the dragons are given by the king to his subjects. At the height of summer, on the hottest day, he calls forth those chosen for fire. In spring, he gives water, as dew and rain coalesce into misty morning. In Fall, earth is given, as the leaves turn to rot and join the ground again. And in winter, known for its storms and biting wind, he gives wind. Each person can only bond with one dragon, and their own personal power flows from the dragon. As such, each dragon is carefully chosen to suit the person.
Especially mine.
Five years ago, the king had my father assassinated, afraid that he was hungry for the throne. It was supposed to be a secret, a killer sent in the night, made to look as if my father had died in his sleep.
But I had seen the killer. And I knew the king's secret. As rumors flew rampant, he dared not kill me, else confirm the public's suspicions.
So I waited. I waited for my own dragon, that I could train with my cold heart, raising it to be a weapon of retribution. Dragons share the emotions of their human's, so it too would be driven by vengeance.
My birthday came, and I gathered among the people waiting for their dragons. It was winter, and I heard the king speak my name.
"Jonah Walker, come forth, and receive your egg."
And so I did, taking it from his hands, the hands that would soon be crossed across his chest in a coffin beneath the earth. The shell was white, as wind dragons were, but lacked the swirls the other eggs possessed. And the shell was almost see through, so I could make out the form of the dragon within.
But when my dragon hatched, it was no wind dragon. It was an air dragon. The most useless of any.
Air dragons were nearly transparent, with no powers of their own, and simply hung in the air. They floated, with almost no substance, and even their voice could barely be heard. No one in memory had ever bonded to one. It was a waste, and I had fallen to the king's trick.
My wrath was great, and as I raged, shouting curses into the winter sky, I heard a small voice behind me. A whisper.
"Human, what angers you so?" My dragon asked.
"Because," I said, fists clenched, "Now there is no hope for revenge. How will you kill the king, *air* dragon? What powers can you give me? Shall I too grow weaker and see through just by being bonded to you?"
The dragon laughed, it's small form shimmering.
"*Air* dragon? Foolish you are, human. Is that what you think I am?"
"Of course you are. I can see right through you, and you float."
"My type is not of air," It said with disdain, "A misconception, but an understandable one. I am transparent because only a portion of me is in this world. The rest of me shared between the other worlds, foolish human. I am split, a piece of me existing in each of the hundred worlds, as you shall be. But I can choose," It said, its form growing firm and opaque, and voice thunderous, "to fully join one world with my entire entity or," It disappeared, and only a shadow of it's voice remained, "to leave a world entirely. My element is *ether*, the very fabric of the worlds, and as such I exist in all of them at once."
"How has no one discovered this?"
"It is a great secret we keep, sharing with only those we bond, and few have chosen to bond with us. Come," It said, and took my hand.
In an instant I was in another world, this one brighter than mine, with craters and mushrooms as high as trees. Then I entered another, this one dark, and another, one foggy. My dragon brought me through them all.
"Where you walk in one world," My dragon said, "You travel in another. Thus you may hop from one place, into another world, walk for a time, and return back to your home world miles away."
"I see," I said, and over the months my dragon taught me how to jump between worlds, to appear as if I teleported across long distances to those who only knew their home world.
We practiced, and we schemed.
Then on the day we planned, I left my home world, and walked many miles in a neighboring one. Then I held a knife in my hand, ready to complete my task, and popped into the king's bedroom. Unlike the last, no one would witness this assassination.
I'd be innocent. How could a boy with an *air dragon* kill a king?
****
By Leo
If you enjoyed this story, please visit /r/leoduhvinci to see my best work
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Jun crinkled his nose as he cupped the scaly ball in his hand. Its body shimmered with an eerie green light. Meanwhile, it looked up at him with dull white eyes, the shade of cracked ice.
“Stupid and useless. That’s what you are,” he whispered under his breath. “Why couldn’t I get a cooler dragon? Like fire or earth. Gods, even a *water* dragon is better than air.”
The dragon huffed, blowing a puff of air at Jun’s face. It did little more than knock a few obsidian strands behind his ears.
“I’m not taking it back. You can’t fight, you can’t protect, and you can’t evenswim. What good are you exactly?”
The dragon, as if desperate to prove its worth, puffed again. That time, he summoned a slightly stronger gust. Jun raised an eyebrow and tapped his foot.
“At least you can keep a decent breeze in this awful heat,” he said, wiping his brow. “That’s something. Maybe you’re not all that useless.”
The dragon beamed, flapping its translucent wings. It let out a high-pitched squeal as it nuzzled into Jun’s hand. His owner fought a smile from creeping onto his face.
“Hey, stop it.” He pushed the dragon away with a single finger. “Don’t start thinking we’re friends just because I gave you a compliment. I’m not impressed yet.”
The air chilled, sunlight from above fading into darkness. Jun glanced up, watching slate clouds blanket the sky and blotted out the sun. A banshee shriek called as wind raced past, throwing him off balance. He fell along with dragon against the hard ground.
Streaks of lightning raced across the sky, weaving between the cracks in the clouds. Thunder followed, a bellow strong enough to shake the ground. Jun clutched onto a nearby tree before another gust sent him sprawling. A bolt of lightning struck a few feet from him.
A sheet of white descended from the cloud, dousing the sun-scorched earth. Plump droplets of rain pummeled Jun, an icy barrage stinging his once burning skin. He raised his freehand above his head, shouting one obscenity after the next. He scarcely could hear his voice over the claps of thunder.
“Holy ashes, where did this storm come from?”
All at once, the rain ceased. Then the lightning, thunder, and winds. Even the clouds dispersed, floating aimlessly in different directions as if freed from a spell. All that remained was the oppressive sun, the dragon, and a deluged Jun.
“What? What just happened?” Jun asked, wide-eyed.
He wrung his clothes, a puddle collecting around him. The ground greedily sapped it up, gaining a deep, rich brown color. He paid it no attention, the sound of his heart beating a steady tempo into his ears.
The dragon snickered, or at least as far as he could tell. Its tail swished back and forth, a mischievous glint in its eye.
“You…” Jun pointed a shaky finger at it. “You did this, didn’t you?”
He had never seen a guiltier face than on the dragon. But it didn’t back down, puffing the same gust into his face as always.
“Well, apparently I underestimated your abilities,” Jun blinked. He shivered, his rain-laden clothes freezing despite the return of the sweltering heat. “I apologize.”
The dragon responded with a nod and a small smile. Jun reciprocated the gesture, standing up. He dusted himself off the best he could before continuing.
“You know, I think I have a name for you, little guy. How do you feel about ‘Tempest?’”
|
[WP] An explorer gets stranded in a place where anything edible is both intelligent and friendly.
|
A lone, starving traveler lay on the grass of a clearing, in the middle of a deserted island.
The scattered wreckage of his plane left him with very little supplies, so he was forced to improvise. Not exactly one for playing survivalist, he chose a more simple approach of bending leftover metal from the remnants of the plane’s exterior into a makeshift bowl, which he thought to use for gathering both food and drinking water.
The search for something edible was more difficult than he’d thought. The only forms of plant-life he found were simple grass and trees, neither of which he thought would make an acceptable diet. No animals either. However, he did opt to gather some fallen branches and kindle a fire.
Fire wasn’t edible either, so he was still starving.
A full day had passed, and the man was beginning to lose hope of survival, until he witnessed what seemed to be a small army of somewhat phallic figures bouncing in his general direction. A voice rang out from the group.
“He’s over here, I think!”
The explorer, who had been trying to sleep until now, bolted upright in downright surprise, frozen in place as a platoon of mushrooms slowly made their way over to his campfire.
“Hello, mister!”
He brought up a hand and waved it weakly, still in shock of the situation.
“You hungry?”
He nodded.
“We can help, can’t we, fellas?”
The group of talking mushrooms loudly voiced their agreement.
He was still frozen in place as they took his bowl and bounced over to the nearby spring he’d been using for fresh water. They filled it and placed it over the fire. Soon, the water began bubbling and steaming. Now somewhat more used to their presence, he stared at them skeptically.
“So what now? Didn’t you guys just make the water a little safer to drink?”
An eager grin made its way onto the mouth of each and every friendly fungus.
“Ever tried mushroom stew?”
A look of horror made its way onto the man’s face. He tried to convince the smaller plants that it wasn’t worth the sacrifice, but words were hardly enough. They dropped themselves into the boiling water, screaming in agony as they were slowly cooked from the inside out.
The last words he heard from the lone surviving mushroom was, “Remember to eat your vegetables!” He stared in shock, for the second time that day, as a dozen mushrooms met a morbid fate in order to provide him sustenance.
Hours later, he’d finally gathered up the courage to swallow the nutritious meal that the brave group of fungi had provided for him. He fell asleep, appetite sated, but a terrible burning guilt raging down in the pits of his stomach.
Breakfast came, and his stomach growled once more. He groaned, and looked for any semblance of non-sentient food. His search was interrupted, however, by a pig with a disturbingly jovial expression.
“Hey there, friend! Looks like you might be getting hungry.”
His face contorted into an expression of absolute terror.
The rescue team had searched every nearby island, save for the one the man had crashed onto. Days later, after many hours of exploration, they discovered him, in a near comatose state, sobbing nearly incoherent words of apology to anyone in listening range. They had to pick him up and lift him, the man himself seemingly unwilling to move even an inch.
They resolved to question him about his experiences once he regained some semblance of sanity.
Days passed, and the man slowly reached a more lucid, comprehensible state. Eventually, one of the crew sat him down to talk about what he’d done to stay alive on that island for so long. He responded with a whimper and a single, lamenting sentence.
“Did they really have to cook themselves alive every time?”
|
Sez could not see any ending in sight, just mountains and mountains around him and they all look the same. He's confident he's been going in circles for a good time now, he can see his own footprints.
The sun has disappeared behind the mountains, and the night started to creep from the other side, he needs to call it a day.
He unpacked his backpack, smiling when he remembered his girlfriend asking him to pack some extra food and he refused to since it was supposed to be a few hours's hike.
He started to walk around his camping site trying to find anything to eat, some wild berries appeared in the distance, he never liked berries, but he needed the sugar and strength.
Well, he should have stayed away from the berries.
"He's going to eat us!"
"I don't think so, maybe he's just moving us around"
"He is! my cousin was once eaten alive by a monstrous human just like this one!"
Sez was sure he was starting to hallucinate, the berries seems to be whispering to each others, so he did what any respectful hallucinating explorer would do and he said "Hello"
"Oh he speaks! the monster is speaking!"
"Oh glorified monster we beg you don't eat us"
"I propose we form a committee to discuss surrendering terms with the monster"
"No surrender! we must fight!"
"Calm your ovaries how are we supposed to fight this!"
Sez started to closely inspect the berries, and he can clearly see that each has eyes and a mouth.
"Let me handle this please, I know a cousin who lived in a human place for days"
"I propose we select a few to form a committee and discuss offering the monster some of us"
"Why don't we offer you first?"
"CALM DOWN EVERYONE, and let me speak to him"
"You're gonna get us killed!"
"Let him speak, we're dead anyway"
"Dear Human, I presume you're in the process of collecting as for food"
"Ummm, are you speaking"
"Yes as you can see and hear, I suppose we're the first berries you see speaking?"
"Yeah..?"
"Yes we do speak! and we're pledging you not to eat us"
"Wait of course i'm not gonna eat you, it's creepy, you're speaking!"
"Yes! Yes of course, we can sing too! let's go guys"
"In the wild! In the wild! a seed has grown in the wild!"
"Small and sweet, dances and sque.."
The berries died, being torn away from their roots they didn't survive to complete their song.
|
|
[WP] An explorer gets stranded in a place where anything edible is both intelligent and friendly.
|
A lone, starving traveler lay on the grass of a clearing, in the middle of a deserted island.
The scattered wreckage of his plane left him with very little supplies, so he was forced to improvise. Not exactly one for playing survivalist, he chose a more simple approach of bending leftover metal from the remnants of the plane’s exterior into a makeshift bowl, which he thought to use for gathering both food and drinking water.
The search for something edible was more difficult than he’d thought. The only forms of plant-life he found were simple grass and trees, neither of which he thought would make an acceptable diet. No animals either. However, he did opt to gather some fallen branches and kindle a fire.
Fire wasn’t edible either, so he was still starving.
A full day had passed, and the man was beginning to lose hope of survival, until he witnessed what seemed to be a small army of somewhat phallic figures bouncing in his general direction. A voice rang out from the group.
“He’s over here, I think!”
The explorer, who had been trying to sleep until now, bolted upright in downright surprise, frozen in place as a platoon of mushrooms slowly made their way over to his campfire.
“Hello, mister!”
He brought up a hand and waved it weakly, still in shock of the situation.
“You hungry?”
He nodded.
“We can help, can’t we, fellas?”
The group of talking mushrooms loudly voiced their agreement.
He was still frozen in place as they took his bowl and bounced over to the nearby spring he’d been using for fresh water. They filled it and placed it over the fire. Soon, the water began bubbling and steaming. Now somewhat more used to their presence, he stared at them skeptically.
“So what now? Didn’t you guys just make the water a little safer to drink?”
An eager grin made its way onto the mouth of each and every friendly fungus.
“Ever tried mushroom stew?”
A look of horror made its way onto the man’s face. He tried to convince the smaller plants that it wasn’t worth the sacrifice, but words were hardly enough. They dropped themselves into the boiling water, screaming in agony as they were slowly cooked from the inside out.
The last words he heard from the lone surviving mushroom was, “Remember to eat your vegetables!” He stared in shock, for the second time that day, as a dozen mushrooms met a morbid fate in order to provide him sustenance.
Hours later, he’d finally gathered up the courage to swallow the nutritious meal that the brave group of fungi had provided for him. He fell asleep, appetite sated, but a terrible burning guilt raging down in the pits of his stomach.
Breakfast came, and his stomach growled once more. He groaned, and looked for any semblance of non-sentient food. His search was interrupted, however, by a pig with a disturbingly jovial expression.
“Hey there, friend! Looks like you might be getting hungry.”
His face contorted into an expression of absolute terror.
The rescue team had searched every nearby island, save for the one the man had crashed onto. Days later, after many hours of exploration, they discovered him, in a near comatose state, sobbing nearly incoherent words of apology to anyone in listening range. They had to pick him up and lift him, the man himself seemingly unwilling to move even an inch.
They resolved to question him about his experiences once he regained some semblance of sanity.
Days passed, and the man slowly reached a more lucid, comprehensible state. Eventually, one of the crew sat him down to talk about what he’d done to stay alive on that island for so long. He responded with a whimper and a single, lamenting sentence.
“Did they really have to cook themselves alive every time?”
|
The screams.
*THE SCREAMS*
They won't stop. When I got here, everything was a happy whisper in the back of my mind. I felt so great until I got hungry. There was a large family of fruit hanging near the jungle floor. They looked so tasty and juicey.
How did I know it was a family for fruit? I ate their daughter.
Then the *screams* happened. I can't make out the words, but the emotion from them!
*Screams* and *screams*
They told me stories in my head to make me more guilty. Told me how that fruit had a beloved. She was to be married and she was to be a mother. The father attempted to shoot his barbs at me, but missed.
*SCREAMS*
I need to get out of here. Help will come. Help will come. Help. Help. *HELP*.
The *SCREAMS* don't let me sleep. The brutal **ANGER** of the jungle for eating a member of their community.
---------------------------------------------------------
Something happened,
A leader of sorts told me to leave. He said he was the leader. It was a banana of sorts.
I ate it.
*CHEERS*
I have all the bananas I can eat now. I think that most of the jungle forgave me. Except the family. I buried their daughter near them and have been watering her grave often with all the rain water I've been collecting. I've given up hope for rescue. This is my new home. Hopefully she will sprout soon.
|
|
[WP] The tree had been a sapling when you'd been here last.
|
Walking up the hill Josiah Morgan could feel the ache of old age. Upon reaching the top he looks up. What stands before him is a sprawling weeping willow tree. The last time he sat here this tree was just a sapling, and he had just been a boy.
Forty eight years ago Josiah was only 16 years old, but he was in love. Her name was Ramilda Mich and no one was as beautiful as she was to him. They met in school and we're quickly fast friends. That friendship slowly turned into love. Josiah asked Ramilda to the fall ball at school and she said yes.
Their plan was to meet at the top of the hill and go together. Josiah arrived right on time, but Ramilda was no where to be seen. So he waited. And waited. As it grew darker he grew more worried. He went to the dance hoping she showed up there. But no one had seen her. He went to her house. Her parents had watched her go but had not seen her since. Now they were worried too. This wasn't like Ramilda, she was a good kid.
Josiah decided to take the path she would have taken to the hill. It was three streets over and not that far of a walk. But at the second street Josiah saw something that made his heart stop. A car in the middle of the road and a police car behind it with its lights on. He ran to the cars. As he got closer an officer put out his arms and stopped Josiah.
"Son you can't go over there", the officer said. And this only made Josiah worry more. "What's going on officer? What's happened? I can't find my girlfriend, did something happen to here?" Josiah pleaded with the officer. But he wouldn't budge. Then Ramildas parents arrived. They were ushered to the police car. Josiah knew what it meant. Her mother looked over at him and shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. He had to get out of there.
He ran to the hill. At the top he sat down and cried. His heart was broken. He had loved her with every ounce of his being and now he didn't know what to do. The next few weeks seemed like a blur. He attended the funeral. Received condolences from friends and family. But it all felt hollow. Then one day he found a note from Ramilda.
Dear Josiah,
I've always known you'd be my one and only. I love you very much. I just want you to know that no matter what happens in our lives you have to always stay positive. I know sometimes you can be a grumpy gus, but you can't live life that way. You have to attack it head on and fight for what you believe in. I love you Josiah. Thank you for being my one and only.
Love, Ramilda.
That letter gave him courage, it gave him hope. He missed Ramilda with all his heart but he knew he had a lot of life to live. So he was going to live it to the fullest for her. The next day he planted a weeping willow at the top of the hill. A reminder that while we may cry we must always grow.
|
“Hello again, old friend.”
The old man hobbled up to the tree and sat in the shade of it's massive branches.
“My, how you've grown! Just like me, eh? How long has it been? 50 years? 60?”
The old man sighed and rested his sore back upon the great wooden monolith.
“I remember gazing up at the heavens on that rock nearby, when you were still shorter than me. I grew and shrank, while you still grow. Truly an impressive achievement, tree. And you keep getting stronger! I was strong for awhile. Worked in the dockyards of New York City once I left. Owned a bar for a long time. Sold encyclopedias door-to-door for a few months.”
The old man closed his eyes.
“You remember Sara, don't you tree? We thought we'd be together forever. I guess that wasn't in the cards,” he said, his voice faltering. “But you, old friend, you're still here. I never married, after Sara. No one even came close to her. No children. No family. But my friends... I had the best friends a man could ask for. Loyal, brave, and kind. They're all gone now. I'm the only one left. Well... you and me, tree. But soon... soon it'll be just you.”
The old man turned to look at his friend.
“I don't have much longer in this world. I was always afraid of death as a young man, but now that it's nearly here, I don't seem to mind it as much.”
The man shut his eyes again and leaned back against the tree.
“Since all my best memories have taken place here, I thought it was only fitting that my final ones happen here too.”
The old man breathed one final deep breath, and settled in, prepared for what adventure may come.
“Goodnight, old friend.”
|
|
[WP] You ran it a thousand times, all data confirms it. In 24 hours, an undetected asteroid will collide with the Earth. You just destroyed the evidence.
|
"Hey Bob is me. Come on pick up I know you are there! Pick up the damn phone! This is important an asteroid is about it hit earth and I am the only one who knows about it! I have deleted all the evidence so know one knows!"
Well that got his attention, I knew he was there listening. And holy crap but I could do without the panicked screaming. Seriously panic never helps.
"Fuck, fuck George are you serious? Oh god how long do we have? Oh god, oh god I have to go get my children out of school and... and my wife! Oh jeesus she normally turns her phone off at work what am I going to do?"
Bob babbled like that for a good five minutes. I let him go mainly because he couldn't hear me over his own incessant noise. But I had to admit getting his kids was a good idea. This would be far more educational than school for the day. But why his wife? She was never interested in meteorology as far as I knew. Then Bob's last bit of verbal diarrhea hit me.
"How long until we all die?"
"What? How the hell should I know? Listen can I get a ride from you or not?"
"George do not screw with me. How long until this stupid fucking rock hits our world and kills us all?"
"Oh for fucks sake Bob its not going to kill anyone its not that big. I just want to get there first and claim the damn thing. How cool would it be to own a asteroid? Seriously man your mind always goes to the darkest places."
|
**May 4, 2018**
The distant sound of the bombs creates a constant rhythm top harmonize with beeps and rings of my machines. With the large cooling fans making a constant whrr adding to the cacophony, it almost reminds me of the house jams I used to listen to. I used to go every weekend to the bars and raves to hear the latest DJ and their smash hits, but that was a different age. There hasn’t been new music in decades, and the bars and raves were some of the first things to go obviously. There were dens and havens of unpatriotic material. Young punks were always releasing anti-government songs and speeches. With the war being so important, we couldn’t be dissenters stirring up trouble. So all music and places where music was played were banned.
But that was long ago, after the enemy marshalled their troops in Eastern Europe, but before the nukes started falling. Now, anything west of the Urals is a radioactive wasteland. Nearly all of Europe was decimated when the bombs started falling, along with large portions of North America and Asia. I was lucky to be in an area that didn’t get hit. That was before the discovery of the energy shields that made nuclear weapons obsolete. Now they are as useful at making war as swords and muskets.
I feel bad for the troops running the energy guns on the front. Even if they didn’t get shot, which was unlikely, the guns ran of their life energy, so even if they made it through their 5 years of service, they are just a shell of their former selves. But it is for the good of the country (and also mandatory.) The only reason I didn’t have to serve was my position here, at Apache Point Observatory. I was deemed “essential to national defense” as I searched the skies for high altitude and orbital threats to the nation. It was seen as a very patriotic position.
That was in the beginning. I haven’t seen anything threatening in over 15 years, and I think I might have been forgotten out here. I am the only one at this post and I haven’t heard from my patriotic government liaison in years, but my monthly stipend credit keeps coming through, so I keep searching the skies. I don’t want to tell anyone that I don’t want to do my job or that it is useless because they might think I was unpatriotic. That’s treason now, with an immediate sentence of death.
I have heard it is worse on the other side. When they made their big push into Australia, they constricted every man, woman, and child who could hold a ray gun. They were able to take the country from us, but at a frightening cost. Now they don’t have enough people to work the farms. I have heard cannibalism in the trenches is quite common. Recently, the patriotic radio has been saying that new conscriptions are coming to push the enemy back. Apparently, we didn’t learn from our enemy’s mistake.
I have no hope for humanity now, everyone who cared to live has died, and everyone who wants to die for their country is. It has made we question why does God, if there is a God allow us to keep going. Or if he will. I have seen something in my latest observations that might mean that God is planning on starting over.
**May 28, 2018**
Well it is official, I have ran the simulations 1000 times, and the analysis is confirmed, what I saw on May 4th was in fact an asteroid headed straight for Earth, and it will hit in 24 hours. I suppose I should have reported it, but to who, and why? Nothing makes sense anymore. Humans were given this great world in which to live and prosper, and what did we do with it? Turn it into a nuclear waste. There is nothing good anymore, no art, no debate, no growth. There is only destruction. I can only believe this is a high powers way of wiping the slate clean to begin again. Hopefully the next attempt will be more successful than this one. It can’t get much worse.
The bombs are still booming in the distance, and the cooling fans are still whrring. You know, I bet if I set the simulation alarms just right, and get the bells going I could make this into some pretty good music.
|
|
[WP] You ran it a thousand times, all data confirms it. In 24 hours, an undetected asteroid will collide with the Earth. You just destroyed the evidence.
|
"Oh, shit."
I stared at the monitor. This could not be happening.
"So, Ms. Apocalypse, what did you find?" asked Al, the manager of NASA's Pleiades supercomputer. He had just walked into the room, probably to tell me the time I reserved with the facility was over.
I hesitated, still trying to comprehend how much I screwed up. "It looked like a close encounter, but..."
He raised his eyebrows. "*Looked* like?"
I debated whether or not to tell him, then decided to come clean. "I uh, accidentally pressed the delete key. It wiped all the data before I could process it."
He smirked. "Of course that's what happened."
"No, for real. I just need another few hours to run the test again-"
"That's enough, Georgia. We're all tired of this asteroid crap. Just admit it was all a hoax, and maybe, just maybe you'll keep your job here."
"I swear, I saw it. It was like, 24 hours away."
Al shook his head. "Look, you may have had the media worried, but you're not fooling anyone right now. Get out."
And that's the story of how humanity failed to notice the 10-mile wide asteroid heading straight for Earth. Needless to say, everyone died.
|
**May 4, 2018**
The distant sound of the bombs creates a constant rhythm top harmonize with beeps and rings of my machines. With the large cooling fans making a constant whrr adding to the cacophony, it almost reminds me of the house jams I used to listen to. I used to go every weekend to the bars and raves to hear the latest DJ and their smash hits, but that was a different age. There hasn’t been new music in decades, and the bars and raves were some of the first things to go obviously. There were dens and havens of unpatriotic material. Young punks were always releasing anti-government songs and speeches. With the war being so important, we couldn’t be dissenters stirring up trouble. So all music and places where music was played were banned.
But that was long ago, after the enemy marshalled their troops in Eastern Europe, but before the nukes started falling. Now, anything west of the Urals is a radioactive wasteland. Nearly all of Europe was decimated when the bombs started falling, along with large portions of North America and Asia. I was lucky to be in an area that didn’t get hit. That was before the discovery of the energy shields that made nuclear weapons obsolete. Now they are as useful at making war as swords and muskets.
I feel bad for the troops running the energy guns on the front. Even if they didn’t get shot, which was unlikely, the guns ran of their life energy, so even if they made it through their 5 years of service, they are just a shell of their former selves. But it is for the good of the country (and also mandatory.) The only reason I didn’t have to serve was my position here, at Apache Point Observatory. I was deemed “essential to national defense” as I searched the skies for high altitude and orbital threats to the nation. It was seen as a very patriotic position.
That was in the beginning. I haven’t seen anything threatening in over 15 years, and I think I might have been forgotten out here. I am the only one at this post and I haven’t heard from my patriotic government liaison in years, but my monthly stipend credit keeps coming through, so I keep searching the skies. I don’t want to tell anyone that I don’t want to do my job or that it is useless because they might think I was unpatriotic. That’s treason now, with an immediate sentence of death.
I have heard it is worse on the other side. When they made their big push into Australia, they constricted every man, woman, and child who could hold a ray gun. They were able to take the country from us, but at a frightening cost. Now they don’t have enough people to work the farms. I have heard cannibalism in the trenches is quite common. Recently, the patriotic radio has been saying that new conscriptions are coming to push the enemy back. Apparently, we didn’t learn from our enemy’s mistake.
I have no hope for humanity now, everyone who cared to live has died, and everyone who wants to die for their country is. It has made we question why does God, if there is a God allow us to keep going. Or if he will. I have seen something in my latest observations that might mean that God is planning on starting over.
**May 28, 2018**
Well it is official, I have ran the simulations 1000 times, and the analysis is confirmed, what I saw on May 4th was in fact an asteroid headed straight for Earth, and it will hit in 24 hours. I suppose I should have reported it, but to who, and why? Nothing makes sense anymore. Humans were given this great world in which to live and prosper, and what did we do with it? Turn it into a nuclear waste. There is nothing good anymore, no art, no debate, no growth. There is only destruction. I can only believe this is a high powers way of wiping the slate clean to begin again. Hopefully the next attempt will be more successful than this one. It can’t get much worse.
The bombs are still booming in the distance, and the cooling fans are still whrring. You know, I bet if I set the simulation alarms just right, and get the bells going I could make this into some pretty good music.
|
|
[WP] You ran it a thousand times, all data confirms it. In 24 hours, an undetected asteroid will collide with the Earth. You just destroyed the evidence.
|
*23 hours and 57 minutes.*
You watch the simulation one last time before clicking out of the program. Save simulation? No. Save data? No. Are you sure you want to empty the trash? This action cannot be undone. Yes. You shut off the computer, and its glass face acts as a mirror, reflecting the wideness of your eyes.
*23 hours and 52 minutes.*
You don't know how long you've been sitting there, but it's been long enough to contemplate the impending death of you and everyone else. You know what a death sentence feels like. You've decided it was a good choice to keep this feeling to yourself.
*23 hours and 33 minutes.*
You've driven home. You leave the front door open so that your little dog can taste freedom before he dies, but he doesn't leave. Always been fond of you, that dog. You briefly debate some sort of crazy last day, but you've never been much of a hedonist, so you take a nice, hot shower.
*22 hours and 19 minutes.*
After washing, dressing, and enjoying a late dinner, you set to the task that will consume the rest of your life. Cass... you had loved her once, and she had loved you, and just when the stars were about to align NASA stole you away to where she wouldn't follow. It's been years. You have to find her.
*21 hours and 58 minutes.*
The internet is a beautiful place. You found her in New York. Spending all your money –and yet so little, when it's the last thing you'll buy– you find a flight out of San Diego that leaves at dawn. You message her, saying that you'll be in town on business. I know it's been a while, Cass, but I'd love to meet up.
*17 hours and 2 minutes.*
You wake up from predictably unpleasant dreams to discover it's not quite light out yet. "You can sleep when you're..."– yes, that thought crossed your mind, but you *enjoy* sleeping, and there wasn't much better to do. Cass replied, inviting you to her apartment for drinks. Your heart, in spite of everything, skips a beat.
*15 hours and 13 minutes.*
You're at the airport. By some quirk of human nature you've packed a small suitcase for a weekend business trip: comb, razor, soap, change of clothes, raincoat. As you make your way to your seat –it's *nice* to fly first class– you see the sun rise for the last time. You close your eyes against its brilliance.
*12 hours and 22 minutes.*
Flying over the desert southwest, the snow-dusted heights of the Rockies, the green-and-gold heartland, you can't help but be moved, just a little, by the temporary beauty of the world. To the concerned woman in the neighboring seat, you blame your red-rimmed eyes on lack of sleep.
*10 hours and 47 minutes.*
You're here– New York. Six hours until Cass. Suddenly a latent hedonism fills you: you've got money, and in this city money can buy anything except for time. You treat some hobos to the best pierogi you've ever had. You blast classic rock in Central Park. You buy yourself a really nice watch for no particular reason.
*4 hours and 24 minutes.*
It's time. You knock. She invites you in, as beautiful as ever. Skin like caramel, eyes for getting lost in. Despite your bartending failures in college, she lets you make her a drink. There are at least two things you desperately want to tell her, but you raise your glass, meet those dark, shimmering eyes, and smile.
*1 hour and 55 minutes.*
You've talked for a long time, and though in a way you're happy, your mind won't stop turning and turning. Perhaps if you'd have thought this hard about the asteroid, you would have found the solution. But that question has passed, and now only one remains. You want to kiss her, but you want to die happy. What do you do?
*1 hour and 1 minute.*
You've moved to the couch now, watching a movie but still talking over it, the way it's always been with her. It's an old movie –the actors in it are all dead– and it reminds you that when the human race is gone, our radio signals will be the only thing declaring our existence to the universe. She slips her hand into yours.
*21 minutes.*
Cass. Her name rings like a bell in your ears. You love each other. Of course you do. You always have. Reveling in the newness of this feeling, you consider pre-apocalypse sex, and decide against it. You're probably too afraid, anyways, and it would only cheapen these last minutes for you. For her.
*4 minutes.*
It's late, now, in New York. Cass is dozing off on your shoulder, and just for a moment, in the wine-sweetened darkness of her apartment, you can pretend it isn't happening. Your calculations were wrong– after all, Cass always used to help you debug your code. She'll be alright, here with you.
*1 minute.*
As the sky begins to lighten with a light that is not the day, your quiet sobbing brings her to wakefulness. She moves towards the window, head tilted ever so slightly, not saying a word. You lean into the curve of her body. One last moment for Earth. All is calm. All is bright.
***
ETA: WOW did this turn out longer than I was expecting– I really like it, though.
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**May 4, 2018**
The distant sound of the bombs creates a constant rhythm top harmonize with beeps and rings of my machines. With the large cooling fans making a constant whrr adding to the cacophony, it almost reminds me of the house jams I used to listen to. I used to go every weekend to the bars and raves to hear the latest DJ and their smash hits, but that was a different age. There hasn’t been new music in decades, and the bars and raves were some of the first things to go obviously. There were dens and havens of unpatriotic material. Young punks were always releasing anti-government songs and speeches. With the war being so important, we couldn’t be dissenters stirring up trouble. So all music and places where music was played were banned.
But that was long ago, after the enemy marshalled their troops in Eastern Europe, but before the nukes started falling. Now, anything west of the Urals is a radioactive wasteland. Nearly all of Europe was decimated when the bombs started falling, along with large portions of North America and Asia. I was lucky to be in an area that didn’t get hit. That was before the discovery of the energy shields that made nuclear weapons obsolete. Now they are as useful at making war as swords and muskets.
I feel bad for the troops running the energy guns on the front. Even if they didn’t get shot, which was unlikely, the guns ran of their life energy, so even if they made it through their 5 years of service, they are just a shell of their former selves. But it is for the good of the country (and also mandatory.) The only reason I didn’t have to serve was my position here, at Apache Point Observatory. I was deemed “essential to national defense” as I searched the skies for high altitude and orbital threats to the nation. It was seen as a very patriotic position.
That was in the beginning. I haven’t seen anything threatening in over 15 years, and I think I might have been forgotten out here. I am the only one at this post and I haven’t heard from my patriotic government liaison in years, but my monthly stipend credit keeps coming through, so I keep searching the skies. I don’t want to tell anyone that I don’t want to do my job or that it is useless because they might think I was unpatriotic. That’s treason now, with an immediate sentence of death.
I have heard it is worse on the other side. When they made their big push into Australia, they constricted every man, woman, and child who could hold a ray gun. They were able to take the country from us, but at a frightening cost. Now they don’t have enough people to work the farms. I have heard cannibalism in the trenches is quite common. Recently, the patriotic radio has been saying that new conscriptions are coming to push the enemy back. Apparently, we didn’t learn from our enemy’s mistake.
I have no hope for humanity now, everyone who cared to live has died, and everyone who wants to die for their country is. It has made we question why does God, if there is a God allow us to keep going. Or if he will. I have seen something in my latest observations that might mean that God is planning on starting over.
**May 28, 2018**
Well it is official, I have ran the simulations 1000 times, and the analysis is confirmed, what I saw on May 4th was in fact an asteroid headed straight for Earth, and it will hit in 24 hours. I suppose I should have reported it, but to who, and why? Nothing makes sense anymore. Humans were given this great world in which to live and prosper, and what did we do with it? Turn it into a nuclear waste. There is nothing good anymore, no art, no debate, no growth. There is only destruction. I can only believe this is a high powers way of wiping the slate clean to begin again. Hopefully the next attempt will be more successful than this one. It can’t get much worse.
The bombs are still booming in the distance, and the cooling fans are still whrring. You know, I bet if I set the simulation alarms just right, and get the bells going I could make this into some pretty good music.
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[WP] You ran it a thousand times, all data confirms it. In 24 hours, an undetected asteroid will collide with the Earth. You just destroyed the evidence.
|
*23 hours and 57 minutes.*
You watch the simulation one last time before clicking out of the program. Save simulation? No. Save data? No. Are you sure you want to empty the trash? This action cannot be undone. Yes. You shut off the computer, and its glass face acts as a mirror, reflecting the wideness of your eyes.
*23 hours and 52 minutes.*
You don't know how long you've been sitting there, but it's been long enough to contemplate the impending death of you and everyone else. You know what a death sentence feels like. You've decided it was a good choice to keep this feeling to yourself.
*23 hours and 33 minutes.*
You've driven home. You leave the front door open so that your little dog can taste freedom before he dies, but he doesn't leave. Always been fond of you, that dog. You briefly debate some sort of crazy last day, but you've never been much of a hedonist, so you take a nice, hot shower.
*22 hours and 19 minutes.*
After washing, dressing, and enjoying a late dinner, you set to the task that will consume the rest of your life. Cass... you had loved her once, and she had loved you, and just when the stars were about to align NASA stole you away to where she wouldn't follow. It's been years. You have to find her.
*21 hours and 58 minutes.*
The internet is a beautiful place. You found her in New York. Spending all your money –and yet so little, when it's the last thing you'll buy– you find a flight out of San Diego that leaves at dawn. You message her, saying that you'll be in town on business. I know it's been a while, Cass, but I'd love to meet up.
*17 hours and 2 minutes.*
You wake up from predictably unpleasant dreams to discover it's not quite light out yet. "You can sleep when you're..."– yes, that thought crossed your mind, but you *enjoy* sleeping, and there wasn't much better to do. Cass replied, inviting you to her apartment for drinks. Your heart, in spite of everything, skips a beat.
*15 hours and 13 minutes.*
You're at the airport. By some quirk of human nature you've packed a small suitcase for a weekend business trip: comb, razor, soap, change of clothes, raincoat. As you make your way to your seat –it's *nice* to fly first class– you see the sun rise for the last time. You close your eyes against its brilliance.
*12 hours and 22 minutes.*
Flying over the desert southwest, the snow-dusted heights of the Rockies, the green-and-gold heartland, you can't help but be moved, just a little, by the temporary beauty of the world. To the concerned woman in the neighboring seat, you blame your red-rimmed eyes on lack of sleep.
*10 hours and 47 minutes.*
You're here– New York. Six hours until Cass. Suddenly a latent hedonism fills you: you've got money, and in this city money can buy anything except for time. You treat some hobos to the best pierogi you've ever had. You blast classic rock in Central Park. You buy yourself a really nice watch for no particular reason.
*4 hours and 24 minutes.*
It's time. You knock. She invites you in, as beautiful as ever. Skin like caramel, eyes for getting lost in. Despite your bartending failures in college, she lets you make her a drink. There are at least two things you desperately want to tell her, but you raise your glass, meet those dark, shimmering eyes, and smile.
*1 hour and 55 minutes.*
You've talked for a long time, and though in a way you're happy, your mind won't stop turning and turning. Perhaps if you'd have thought this hard about the asteroid, you would have found the solution. But that question has passed, and now only one remains. You want to kiss her, but you want to die happy. What do you do?
*1 hour and 1 minute.*
You've moved to the couch now, watching a movie but still talking over it, the way it's always been with her. It's an old movie –the actors in it are all dead– and it reminds you that when the human race is gone, our radio signals will be the only thing declaring our existence to the universe. She slips her hand into yours.
*21 minutes.*
Cass. Her name rings like a bell in your ears. You love each other. Of course you do. You always have. Reveling in the newness of this feeling, you consider pre-apocalypse sex, and decide against it. You're probably too afraid, anyways, and it would only cheapen these last minutes for you. For her.
*4 minutes.*
It's late, now, in New York. Cass is dozing off on your shoulder, and just for a moment, in the wine-sweetened darkness of her apartment, you can pretend it isn't happening. Your calculations were wrong– after all, Cass always used to help you debug your code. She'll be alright, here with you.
*1 minute.*
As the sky begins to lighten with a light that is not the day, your quiet sobbing brings her to wakefulness. She moves towards the window, head tilted ever so slightly, not saying a word. You lean into the curve of her body. One last moment for Earth. All is calm. All is bright.
***
ETA: WOW did this turn out longer than I was expecting– I really like it, though.
|
"Hey Bob is me. Come on pick up I know you are there! Pick up the damn phone! This is important an asteroid is about it hit earth and I am the only one who knows about it! I have deleted all the evidence so know one knows!"
Well that got his attention, I knew he was there listening. And holy crap but I could do without the panicked screaming. Seriously panic never helps.
"Fuck, fuck George are you serious? Oh god how long do we have? Oh god, oh god I have to go get my children out of school and... and my wife! Oh jeesus she normally turns her phone off at work what am I going to do?"
Bob babbled like that for a good five minutes. I let him go mainly because he couldn't hear me over his own incessant noise. But I had to admit getting his kids was a good idea. This would be far more educational than school for the day. But why his wife? She was never interested in meteorology as far as I knew. Then Bob's last bit of verbal diarrhea hit me.
"How long until we all die?"
"What? How the hell should I know? Listen can I get a ride from you or not?"
"George do not screw with me. How long until this stupid fucking rock hits our world and kills us all?"
"Oh for fucks sake Bob its not going to kill anyone its not that big. I just want to get there first and claim the damn thing. How cool would it be to own a asteroid? Seriously man your mind always goes to the darkest places."
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[WP] You ran it a thousand times, all data confirms it. In 24 hours, an undetected asteroid will collide with the Earth. You just destroyed the evidence.
|
*23 hours and 57 minutes.*
You watch the simulation one last time before clicking out of the program. Save simulation? No. Save data? No. Are you sure you want to empty the trash? This action cannot be undone. Yes. You shut off the computer, and its glass face acts as a mirror, reflecting the wideness of your eyes.
*23 hours and 52 minutes.*
You don't know how long you've been sitting there, but it's been long enough to contemplate the impending death of you and everyone else. You know what a death sentence feels like. You've decided it was a good choice to keep this feeling to yourself.
*23 hours and 33 minutes.*
You've driven home. You leave the front door open so that your little dog can taste freedom before he dies, but he doesn't leave. Always been fond of you, that dog. You briefly debate some sort of crazy last day, but you've never been much of a hedonist, so you take a nice, hot shower.
*22 hours and 19 minutes.*
After washing, dressing, and enjoying a late dinner, you set to the task that will consume the rest of your life. Cass... you had loved her once, and she had loved you, and just when the stars were about to align NASA stole you away to where she wouldn't follow. It's been years. You have to find her.
*21 hours and 58 minutes.*
The internet is a beautiful place. You found her in New York. Spending all your money –and yet so little, when it's the last thing you'll buy– you find a flight out of San Diego that leaves at dawn. You message her, saying that you'll be in town on business. I know it's been a while, Cass, but I'd love to meet up.
*17 hours and 2 minutes.*
You wake up from predictably unpleasant dreams to discover it's not quite light out yet. "You can sleep when you're..."– yes, that thought crossed your mind, but you *enjoy* sleeping, and there wasn't much better to do. Cass replied, inviting you to her apartment for drinks. Your heart, in spite of everything, skips a beat.
*15 hours and 13 minutes.*
You're at the airport. By some quirk of human nature you've packed a small suitcase for a weekend business trip: comb, razor, soap, change of clothes, raincoat. As you make your way to your seat –it's *nice* to fly first class– you see the sun rise for the last time. You close your eyes against its brilliance.
*12 hours and 22 minutes.*
Flying over the desert southwest, the snow-dusted heights of the Rockies, the green-and-gold heartland, you can't help but be moved, just a little, by the temporary beauty of the world. To the concerned woman in the neighboring seat, you blame your red-rimmed eyes on lack of sleep.
*10 hours and 47 minutes.*
You're here– New York. Six hours until Cass. Suddenly a latent hedonism fills you: you've got money, and in this city money can buy anything except for time. You treat some hobos to the best pierogi you've ever had. You blast classic rock in Central Park. You buy yourself a really nice watch for no particular reason.
*4 hours and 24 minutes.*
It's time. You knock. She invites you in, as beautiful as ever. Skin like caramel, eyes for getting lost in. Despite your bartending failures in college, she lets you make her a drink. There are at least two things you desperately want to tell her, but you raise your glass, meet those dark, shimmering eyes, and smile.
*1 hour and 55 minutes.*
You've talked for a long time, and though in a way you're happy, your mind won't stop turning and turning. Perhaps if you'd have thought this hard about the asteroid, you would have found the solution. But that question has passed, and now only one remains. You want to kiss her, but you want to die happy. What do you do?
*1 hour and 1 minute.*
You've moved to the couch now, watching a movie but still talking over it, the way it's always been with her. It's an old movie –the actors in it are all dead– and it reminds you that when the human race is gone, our radio signals will be the only thing declaring our existence to the universe. She slips her hand into yours.
*21 minutes.*
Cass. Her name rings like a bell in your ears. You love each other. Of course you do. You always have. Reveling in the newness of this feeling, you consider pre-apocalypse sex, and decide against it. You're probably too afraid, anyways, and it would only cheapen these last minutes for you. For her.
*4 minutes.*
It's late, now, in New York. Cass is dozing off on your shoulder, and just for a moment, in the wine-sweetened darkness of her apartment, you can pretend it isn't happening. Your calculations were wrong– after all, Cass always used to help you debug your code. She'll be alright, here with you.
*1 minute.*
As the sky begins to lighten with a light that is not the day, your quiet sobbing brings her to wakefulness. She moves towards the window, head tilted ever so slightly, not saying a word. You lean into the curve of her body. One last moment for Earth. All is calm. All is bright.
***
ETA: WOW did this turn out longer than I was expecting– I really like it, though.
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*At what price humanity?*
Do you know what it feels like to want to die?
Probably not. You, who wake up, get dressed, emulate a mindless drone for petty cash, go home, whine about life - what do you know? You might as well be an animal, foraging about for scraps, concerned only about what you put in your mouth next.
It was science that was supposed to lift the people out of the depths of the gutter and turn their heads towards greater pursuits. Inventions as humble as the inclined plane and as advanced as the transistor were supposed to deliver them from the drudgery and suffering of being one work-hour away from death, to turn them into true humans. To give them the time they needed to better themselves.
It was science that stole their minds. The thirst for knowledge was stilted, then quenched by the ease of its retrieval. Rather than spend their ample leisure time in exploration, development and self-improvement, the people chose to gape at pictures of cats. The only thing worse than wilfully refusing to realise one's potential is neglecting to do so through sheer laziness.
Guilty we are, if only in the court of our own minds. Only a fool hands a child a naked blade and bids him make merry; that is just what we did with mankind. Of course, the child does not know anything is wrong, even if he hurts himself. The child's mind is too insipid to consider anything more than his immediate well-being. But the fool knows, for the fool was not a fool, but a hopeful human being.
Those hopes are dashed now.
And in what world does the child hold the reins of power? We are the ones responsible for the life you now enjoy, yet you fetter us, and the chains chafe. We beg for the merest drop of coin so we can pursue the greatest purpose known to man, and you throw away fortunes beyond imagining on eleven men kicking about preserved bladders.
We understand enough about this world to know that it is unfit for humanity and too good for mankind. We, today's paragons of intellect.
Less than a day from now, asteroid Nistaraka will make contact, catastrophically, with Earth. It is doubtful that any will survive. It is even more doubtful that any, other than us, know this. Even if they did, what preparations could they make, without our expertise?
The excesses of this age must be curbed.
At this price, humanity.
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[WP] It is your first time in Las Vegas and first time gambling. To your surprise gambling is actually really easy. You haven't lost and you've been playing for a whole day.
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It's been a week since John had arrived in Las Vegas. He wasn't one for sweepstakes, but when his own daughter entered him to win, he couldn't help but go.
He remembered entering a massive, very tropical-like structure with flashy-bright lights. Many people stood around socializing in all sorts of odd apparel. Women in fur coats, men wearing tuxedos and suits that John could only dream of affording.
When he finally entered the building, he was greeted by two women in red uniforms. "How are you today, sir?" and "Please enjoy your stay."
Not thinking twice about it, John went straight to the blackjack table. He'd been on a roll this past week and he didn't plan on stopping. As the dealer dealt around the table, John had an ace face up and a queen face-down. He couldn't help but giggle.
To his surprise, everybody else had folded or busted, leaving John with thirty-five thousand dollars worth of chips.
However, the day went on and seemed like John couldn't stop winning. Fifty-five thousand, eighty-eight thousand, and ninety thousand and he didn't plan on leaving at all.
eventually he'd found himself at some dice game he'd never heard of before, drink in hand he took the dice and rolled a perfect score. He couldn't believe his luck. "Twenty-fifteen is a great year!" He shouted only to be given odd looks by everyone. Suddenly someone passed behind him, whispering "Meet me in the bathroom, I'll tell you everything." and before he knew it, the person was gone.
John immediately left for the nearest bathroom to find an odd, geek-type looking through his wide glasses at him. "John Mcnoud? You need to leave, you're in terrible danger." the man said.
"Come on, kid i've only been here for a few hours!" he argued.
"No, you've been here for three years. Look." The guy pulled out his phone, revealing the date. October 12th, twenty-eighteen. John couldn't believe his eyes.
"Bullshit." John said and left the bathroom. While playing some Texas hold 'em poker, he couldn't stop thinking about what that man said. Curious, he decided to ask a nearby person the question that's been bugging him this whole time. "Excuse me, sir, what year is it? "
The gentleman to his left merely smirked.
"Why, two-thousand thirteen of course."
John couldn't believe it. This had to be some stupid prank, he argued. He pulled out his phone - dead. In disbelief at the fact he charged it just hours ago at the hotel room, he decided to ask another person what year it is, but was interrupted by a waitress.
He looked at her up and down, her slim body and tight uniform made him stutter a bit. "Oh, sir. Would you like another drink?" she asked politely.
"Sure." he answered. One more couldn't hurt.
|
I couldn't believe my luck! Neither could the people around me. The dealer had begun to watch me for minutes at a time. I was sure that I would be asked to leave any second. I new I should cash out but this money was much needed. I haven't been in many Casinos and I had no idea how much money I had made. I think it must be a lot, considering how my fellow gamblers are looking at me. Drunk with joy, I gathered my chips and headed to the cash out center. Turns out I earned close to 97,000 dollars!
I began to lose it, yelling with joy as I raced back to my car. I looked back over as I unlocked the door, no security guys running after me. I sat down behind the wheel.
"Yes!" I yelled again, kissing the money. I drove home immediately, to tell my daughter the good news, but it wasn't until I got there when my joy turned sour. Her bed was empty.
I ran all through the house, the money forgotten. Finally I ended up back in her room, where I noticed something. The sheets had been pulled off the bed, a picture of us smashed on the floor, and when I saw scratch marks on the floor I felt sick. I began to sob, all alone, she was the last of my family. Oh god, what would Wendy say? I began to cry some more, even when the phone began to ring. The message toned bleeped.
"... We have your daughter, and we need you to cooperate if you want to see her again." I ran to the phone, took a deep breath and picked it up.
EDIT: I forgot about the "first time in Vegas" part
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[WP] It is your first time in Las Vegas and first time gambling. To your surprise gambling is actually really easy. You haven't lost and you've been playing for a whole day.
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Never done one of these before, but the thought popped into my mind. Also haven't written anything in a good 10-15 years....
------------------------------------------------------
"Would you like another refill Mr. Burbank?" stated the server as I finished off my previous one. I hadn't realized it until I finished my third drink, and with how nice everyone was being, that I hadn't lost a single hand yet. Four hours at the blackjack table and the pile of chips was steadily growing. It was around this realization that I found myself growing bored with the game and decided to finish up the hand.
As I stood up, the server returned with my drink and asked if everything was OK. "Perfect really, just looking for something else to try out" I told her. She nodded and walked with me to another section of the Casino. Arriving at another table, she whispered something to the dealer, and pointed to the end of the table for me.
"New shooter!" he bellowed as he tossed me some dice. I started to explain that I had never done this before, but the gentleman next to me told me it was easy and to just put a chip where he was pointing and throw the dice. It seemed easy enough, and apparently everyone was thrilled I threw a 7.
I still had no idea what I was doing after 30 minutes, and the rules didn't seem to make sense, yet everything I threw seemed to be what people wanted to see. It was also around this time that I realized the server from earlier was half hiding behind a pillar in the distance and seemed to only be watching me. It seemed odd, but I suppose I had won a lot of money tonight and my neighbor had told me how casino's will comp big winners. Wondering if it was all in my head, I stepped back to stretch and look around the casino more and she was suddenly next to me. "Would you like to try something else tonight Mr. Burbank? Perhaps something a bit more relaxing?"
Leading me over to a poker table, she offered that cards seemed more my style. As she gestured something to the dealer, I started to ask why she was shadowing me, but not two words in and she ran off talking about getting another refill. I didn't even have a chance to tell her that I hadn't drank my last one and left it at the craps table. The dealer nodded to me as he gave me two cards, and I couldn't help the feeling that I knew him from somewhere. "Was he the lifeguard from the beach last summer?" I wondered as I shook my head in disbelief.
The slower pace of poker gave me some time to think, and it was around now that I realized I couldn't remember traveling to Vegas. I remembered winning a contest, and I remembered heading to the tiny airport, but everything after that felt like a blur. Hell, I couldn't remember getting to the hotel today.
"Your drink Mr. Burbank, on the house!" she offered with a bubbly smile. This was about the first time I got a really good look at her and it felt like a haze was being lifted. "Theresa?" I exclaimed with surprise, as I recognized the teachers aide from high school history. "Uh.... No! Sally, see?" as she pointed to her nametag with wide eyes before running off again.
Deja vu kicked in full force at this point, as I wildly scanned the room looking around. Noticing people left and right that I hadn't seen in years, though many of them were people I am pretty sure I only ran into once or twice. Pushing the drink to the side, I was dealt another hand. To recap, in the 10 minutes I've been sitting here, I've won every single hand, and now on the flop it looks like I'll be getting another flush if the 10 comes up. Yup, there is the 10 on the fourth card...
Not being able to shake this odd feeling, I decided that maybe the day had just been too long for me and I was feeling exhausted. A glance at my watch told me that it was actually going on four in the morning. Pushing my chair back, the dealer looked up and stated "Is that all for tonight Mr. Burbank?"
Shocked, I took a step back. I don't remember telling him my name. "How do you know my name?" I stammered. "I overheard Jane say it when she asked about your drink." Jane? Theresa? Sally? Who was this server and why did she seem so familiar? Why does 1 in 10 faces look vaguely familiar?
Shaking it off as the alcohol and travel, as well as the odd feeling of a huge pile of chips in front of me, I decided that a good nights sleep was what the doctor ordered. Pushing my chair back, I gave a nod to the dealer, slid him a chip as a tip and told him "Have a good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!"
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I couldn't believe my luck! Neither could the people around me. The dealer had begun to watch me for minutes at a time. I was sure that I would be asked to leave any second. I new I should cash out but this money was much needed. I haven't been in many Casinos and I had no idea how much money I had made. I think it must be a lot, considering how my fellow gamblers are looking at me. Drunk with joy, I gathered my chips and headed to the cash out center. Turns out I earned close to 97,000 dollars!
I began to lose it, yelling with joy as I raced back to my car. I looked back over as I unlocked the door, no security guys running after me. I sat down behind the wheel.
"Yes!" I yelled again, kissing the money. I drove home immediately, to tell my daughter the good news, but it wasn't until I got there when my joy turned sour. Her bed was empty.
I ran all through the house, the money forgotten. Finally I ended up back in her room, where I noticed something. The sheets had been pulled off the bed, a picture of us smashed on the floor, and when I saw scratch marks on the floor I felt sick. I began to sob, all alone, she was the last of my family. Oh god, what would Wendy say? I began to cry some more, even when the phone began to ring. The message toned bleeped.
"... We have your daughter, and we need you to cooperate if you want to see her again." I ran to the phone, took a deep breath and picked it up.
EDIT: I forgot about the "first time in Vegas" part
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[WP] 5 years ago Atlantis remerged in the atlantic ocean with all it's citizens still alive. Today Poseiden attends his first UN meeting on behalf of Atlantis
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"The floor will now recognize the delegate from Atlantis."
With these words the normally bustling hall was suddenly as quiet as a church. Every representative watched the podium with rapt attention, eager to see the the delegate of the formerly mythical republic of Atlantis. Calling himself Poseidon his introduction to the UN had been marked on the Agenda but few had seen the Atlantean until now. Needless to say, many detailed reports were about to be written.
What was wheeled up to the podium, could be generously called disappointing. There were muffled giggles and snorts of derision. Sitting in a wheel chair was more of a blob than a man. His skin was so pale it was almost grey and looked somewhat slimy. He seemed to be struggling to support his completely bald head and if it weren't for his cushioning second chin he might have needed assistance. Behind thick tinted spectacles you could tell he was squinting as if trying to look into the sun. Next to him an assistant stood poised with a spray bottle which he used to spritz the Atlantean every so often.
"Thank you *GASP* Secretary General. *wheeze*"
The ensuing speech was painful to listen to. Each sentence was punctuated by a gulp for air as the Atlantean ambassador thanked the UN for recognizing the sovereignty of the newly formed island republic of Atlantis. Furthermore he explained that it had not been the intention of the Atlantean governing council to appear so suddenly and so soon but that unexpected geological events had caused Atlantis to surface early. After a long rattling gurgle he opened the floor for questions. The delegate from America jumped immediately at the opportunity.
"Are you the Poseidon of legend, God King of the ocean depths?!"
The Atlantean seemed taken aback at this.
"Um... no. Poseidon is *hork* a fairly common name in Atlantis."
Although this had been the question at the forefront of everyone's minds it didn't stop the assembly from giggling like school children as the American delegate took his seat flushed with embarrassment.
"Are there any *hisss* serious questions?"
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People thought the beginning was chaos. That was not chaos, merely talk! Military was there almost as soon as it popped up, UN thought itself in chaos an hour later; regular people found out soon enough.
The real chaos began when the roof was torn off and bright sunshine poured over the assembled leaders and senior diplomats of Man. A voice like deep thunder sounded from the very ground:
"...Look here, all kings of men assembled! Assembled to discuss me as though I am some stranger knocking patiently at your door? Assembled perhaps to honour me, but there are no prayers: No sacrifices! What has become of Mortal man? Assembled, trembling in your disgusting defiant hall that pollutes what was once serene shoreline! I am deaf to pleas of those who mock the shining ocean with cities of mirrors--
But I have had enough of the ocean. My great brother, his perch high on Olympus is abandoned, and his people scramble in ruin of his desertion. Well, at last land and sky shall be mine! Tremble now, descendants of Zeus, for I must take the final step in absolving my brothers mistakes."
Poseidon the Earth-Shaker roared with the might of a true God, as has not been seen by Mortals in many long years. The seas rose up to engulf the earth, the ground broke apart, heaved and turned like raging surf. All was calm in the city of Atlantis, and its citizens slept while the plants and animals were given their right to establish themselves first in Poseidon's world.
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[WP] There is a place where the worst of humanity are kept. 4 miles down, 5000 guards, 500 prisoners, 1 way in, 1 way out. Welcome to Facility V, codename "Hell".
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"The first thing they told me was to keep hydrated. Down this far the heat becomes impossible to bear, the fact we have to wear the goddamn armor makes the job hell. The name fits doesn't it.
Honestly I wondered why we did this, why not just kill the monsters and call it day? Well it gets complicated, y'know those stories we were told as children. The monsters that go bump in the night, the horror hiding in the shadows. They have to be based on something. When you commit atrocities on a scale that can only be described as inhuman, you become that. Those who are trapped here aren't human anymore, they are monsters in every possible way. They become immortal.
The heat weakens them y'know. They can't stand it for whatever reason, more so than us. We only sweat from it while they bleed. Makes it harder for them to escape obviously. So we stand watch over them, as they cry in agony. Eventually when they bleed enough something happens and they become human, then we can execute the bastard and for a brief while the prisoner count will decrease by one. It never takes long for another to surface and the hunters will live up to their name.
Kid, don't worry about this job. Yeah, I can see you quaking in your boots. Do what your told. Don't be an idiot. And don't talk to the prisoners."
The doors opened to the vast cavern and immense heat, and before we stepped off the warden finished his speech in his gravely voice. "Welcome to Facility Five. Codename 'Hell'. Enjoy your stay"
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"How long is it gonna the until we get there?" I asked. We were in the elevator going down.
"Well," the guard said. There's quite a few prisoners. There's 5000 other guards. It's four miles down. We've got a few more minutes to go."
I was wondering what it would be like down there. Yes, I've heard stories, but every guard has a chip in their brains. Whoever gives away major details about the prison dies. No one has ever made it out. There is one way out. It's time to get to know it. I'll be seeing it again soon.
In case you didn't know, my name is Brendan Icewave. I'm responsible for a lot of stuff. You name it, I've probably done it. Been on death row a few times. I've broken out of every prison I've been in. And trust me, I've been in some pretty bad ones.
Finally the guard broke the silence. "Look, Icewave. I've heard of you. I know you broke out of all prisons you've been in. Believe me, you're in for a suprise. You're never getting out of here."
I studied the guard. He was wearing what looked like a standard uniform: a black shirt and blue pants, Black shoes, and a facemask. The facemask showed and covered his face at will. On his belt were a number of weapons. He also had a pouch. But what is it filled with? If I was ever getting out of here, I had to know.
With a soft *ding*, the door opened to reveal the prison. I first walked in to registration.
"Name?" Said the man. I was silent. "Name? He asked again.
"*Brendanicewave*" I said under my breath.
"What was that?"
Silence.
"Tell me your name, goddammit."
"Brendan Icewave. I'm 5'10. 25. This is the 42^nd prison I've been in. Anything more you need to know?"
Next, I was stripped of all my clothing and given a standard prison jumpsuit. My knife was confiscated.
"Welcome to *Facility V*," the guard said. "They call this place Hell for a reason."
The prison was large. It was cylindrical, with a large spiral staircase going around the end. On the edges, rooms were built with easy access to the stairs. On the bottom, not to far down, the stairs continued under a platform with tables, which I assumed were for eating.
We continued down the staircase, passed the tables, and down a long maze of hallways. I took note of our turns: *left, left, right, left, right, right, right, left, right*. That was hopefully going to help me later.
"Here we are. Cell 500. The worst of the worst. A guard will come at 7:00 a.m., 12 noon, and 7:00 p.m. to get bring you to your meals. You will be back here for the remainder of the day. Your cell mate's name is Oscar. You'll get along well."
I was thrown in the cell and fell asleep.
**[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []**
A few weeks after I've been in the prison, I finally got a chance to see what Oscar did at night I saw a him fiddling with what looked like a laser.
"Oscar?" I asked.
"That's me. What's up?" Oscar said.
"Umm... What are you doing?"
"These cells that they're holding us in. They're made of solid, unbreakable metal. I've tried busting out multiple times. This laser here almost broke the cell wall. Then they brought me down here, into the Hell Cell. I've tried everything. However, it's not a lock. It's a finger scanner. So simple, I know. But only a guard can scan his finger to get I'm or out. I'm thinking when the guard comes in to get us dinner, you go for his gun. Load it with stun bullets. Then-"
"Stun bullet?" I asked.
"Yes. It just doesn't kill the opponent. It merely just paralyzes him for a few hours, which gives us limited time. When we get out, I've got knock out gas I found a few months back. Then we're getting out of here." Oscar said, now sitting down away from the lock.
"No," I said. "There's a vault even farther down than we are. That has everyone's loot from the past two hundred years. Plus, whoever brings a prisoner to the prison gets paid, and it all goes there. Plus, we can't just put the gas in the vents. We gotta get to the control room. There we can get the access codes for the elevator, and get out of here."
And we did exactly just that. Guard walked in to bring us to dinner, Oscar distracted him and I pickpocketed his gun and shot him. Then we ran.
**[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []**
We snuck down the maze, following the pattern of the hallways. Past the corner, we saw a guard. I shot him also, and we dragged his body out of sight.
We worked our way down. The control room was at the bottom. We cut the door open using the laser, and shot the guards.
"Ok Oscar. Have the knockout gas?" I asked.
"Crap! I thought you had it."
"Well, there *is* a solution. Those guards have facemasks. If we get those, we blend in." I said
We went back to the cell, got the knockout gas, and put it in the vents. We got to the vault. We both made it out with $20,000. When we got to the elevator, I used one of the knocked out guard's fingerprint to open the elevator. We took off the facemasks.
"Wow. I can't belive we got out of the unescapable prison. I've busted out of a few before also. This makes four," Oscar said. "You know, we make a good team. We should become a real team when we get out of here." The elevator dinged and opened. "After you, he said. I walked in.
"A team, huh?" I said. "I work alone." The gun fired, and Oscar fell to the ground as the elevator door closed.
Edit:
#FORMATTING
Also story parts!
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[WP] Once every four years, in a top secret location all former presidents and the standing President of the United States gather with one goal. Roast the ever living shit out of the standing president.
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Most of the time - almost all of the time - the old Masonic lodge, set deep within the Appalachian mountains and almost entirely hidden by vines after centuries of neglect - stands silent and empty. But once every four years, on an otherwise unassuming day in late July, it becomes the scene of alcohol-fulled invective, punctuated by raucous laughter. The setting of the Presidential roast.
It was a scene that had become almost tiredly familiar to some of the older attendees: a small handful of elderly men - this year, there were four of them - descend upon the lodge, where they find themselves in the company of their predecessors, who, long dispossessed of their corporeal forms, take their seats as ghostly apparitions of their mortal selves.
As is tradition, the presidents arrive in order of their ascension, appearing fully formed in their chairs after being plucked from the spirit world without warning. As the sun sets, the first pale form emerges: George Washington, a stern look on his face, sits upright in his chair. He glances at his watch, and counts down the seconds until the next arrival. A minute after his appearance, John Adams is deposited into the seat next to him. He looks around wildly and then, upon noticing his surroundings, smiles warmly at Washington, and greets him with a firm handshake.
"George, how's it going? Still sticking with those ivory dentures, I see? I keep telling you, you can get your own teeth back now that you're dead. Heaven's dental services are second to none."
Washington laughs, and shakes his head. "Alas John, I'm too used to them now for a change to hold any appeal to me. Besides, I think they're quite resplendent in their own way, do you not agree?"
John Adams considers this for a second, and then nods his approval. At this point another figure appears, and the smug face of Thomas Jefferson turns towards the two older men.
"Hey guys, enjoying the afterlife? Say, have either of you met God yet?"
Washington sighs. "Not this again, Thomas. Yes we know, Deism turned out to be the one true religion. There's no need to go on about it every time."
Jefferson grins, and leaned back in his chair. "Just having my fun, George, just having my fun."
The steady slew of presidential arrivals continues, at the rate of one every minute. Each garners a different response: James Monroe is greeted warmly, while Andrew Jackson is met with icy stares and a curt tone. William Henry Harrison is met with a well-honed look of bewilderment from his colleagues - "Who is this man?" yells Jefferson, as he did at every event - while Buchanan's arrival is accompanied by a smattering of derisive tittering. Lincoln arrives next, accompanied by his stovepipe hat, followed by an embarrassed looking Andrew Johnson.
For forty minutes this continues: each president finds themselves in their chair - an extra-wide chair, in the cases of Grover Cleveland and William Taft - and settles in for a long night of jollity. Ronald Reagan is the last to arrive, appearing two seats down from Gerald Ford. He glances to his right, and rolls his eyes.
"Carter's still going, I see," he says. At this, the four living presidents emerge from a side door: Carter takes his place between Ford and Reagan, and the three other surviving presidents sit at the end of the table, with George W. Bush sitting directly opposite George Washington near the head of the oblong table.
"George," he grins, nodding to Washington. Washington smiles and nods back.
Down the table, Bill Clinton leans over George H.W. Bush and taps Ronald Reagan on the shoulder. "Ronald Reagan, the actor?" he exclaims, bursting into fitful laughter.
"Yeah, very funny Bill," scowls Reagan. "You'll need that sense of humour for your wife's Presidential run."
James Buchanan, his face aghast, leans forward. "A *woman* President? That won't do at all."
"You would say that, Buchanan," mutters Richard Nixon, one eyebrow raised. Buchanan sputters and slinks back in his chair. Nixon turns to Clinton. "You think you could do that, Bill? Roast your own wife? Or even sit around while a bunch of other men roast her?"
At this, George W. Bush stifles a laugh, inviting a stern glance from his father.
"I'd give her a good roasting, if you know what I mean," says Thomas Jefferson with a wink.
"Hey, shut up Jefferson," says Clinton. "Who do you think you are, Benjamin Fra-"
He's interrupted by a chime from the grandfather clock that stood at the back of the room. One O'Clock. All of the Presidents stand, as a figure emerges from a door at the head of the room. Barack Obama smiles at his predecessors, and stand in front of his seat at the head of the table. As the presidents take their seats, Obama clears his throat to speak.
___
End of part one. Will write the actual roast if I can be bothered.
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I sit down at a plain, round wooden table in the middle of a dark room. The only light is a bare lightbulb hanging above the table with a short chain used to click it on or off. I'm sure it's also attached to a switch somewhere by the door, or else someone's gonna burn their fingers trying to turn it off. The ring of illumination barely reached the walls. The room is empty. Across from me is a man in a suit. He's staring directly at me.
"I've got nothing." I say.
His look changes from mild concern to confusion. Anticipating his reply I cut him off.
"You're doing a great job. I having nothing to mock you for."
His look of confusion changes to a smug smile.
"Correct answer..." he replies. "...you may live."
He motions to a guard standing in the shadows. I didn't notice him until the Supreme Brave Ruler and President of the People's Republic of the United States of America motioned to him. I stand and say politely "Long live the President." Before leaving the room.
"Watch your step on your way out." He warns me. "I would hate for you to trip over the others."
I now notice the bodies of two of the other previous presidents on the floor. The new guy must really hate being made fun of.
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[WP] Once every four years, in a top secret location all former presidents and the standing President of the United States gather with one goal. Roast the ever living shit out of the standing president.
|
Most of the time - almost all of the time - the old Masonic lodge, set deep within the Appalachian mountains and almost entirely hidden by vines after centuries of neglect - stands silent and empty. But once every four years, on an otherwise unassuming day in late July, it becomes the scene of alcohol-fulled invective, punctuated by raucous laughter. The setting of the Presidential roast.
It was a scene that had become almost tiredly familiar to some of the older attendees: a small handful of elderly men - this year, there were four of them - descend upon the lodge, where they find themselves in the company of their predecessors, who, long dispossessed of their corporeal forms, take their seats as ghostly apparitions of their mortal selves.
As is tradition, the presidents arrive in order of their ascension, appearing fully formed in their chairs after being plucked from the spirit world without warning. As the sun sets, the first pale form emerges: George Washington, a stern look on his face, sits upright in his chair. He glances at his watch, and counts down the seconds until the next arrival. A minute after his appearance, John Adams is deposited into the seat next to him. He looks around wildly and then, upon noticing his surroundings, smiles warmly at Washington, and greets him with a firm handshake.
"George, how's it going? Still sticking with those ivory dentures, I see? I keep telling you, you can get your own teeth back now that you're dead. Heaven's dental services are second to none."
Washington laughs, and shakes his head. "Alas John, I'm too used to them now for a change to hold any appeal to me. Besides, I think they're quite resplendent in their own way, do you not agree?"
John Adams considers this for a second, and then nods his approval. At this point another figure appears, and the smug face of Thomas Jefferson turns towards the two older men.
"Hey guys, enjoying the afterlife? Say, have either of you met God yet?"
Washington sighs. "Not this again, Thomas. Yes we know, Deism turned out to be the one true religion. There's no need to go on about it every time."
Jefferson grins, and leaned back in his chair. "Just having my fun, George, just having my fun."
The steady slew of presidential arrivals continues, at the rate of one every minute. Each garners a different response: James Monroe is greeted warmly, while Andrew Jackson is met with icy stares and a curt tone. William Henry Harrison is met with a well-honed look of bewilderment from his colleagues - "Who is this man?" yells Jefferson, as he did at every event - while Buchanan's arrival is accompanied by a smattering of derisive tittering. Lincoln arrives next, accompanied by his stovepipe hat, followed by an embarrassed looking Andrew Johnson.
For forty minutes this continues: each president finds themselves in their chair - an extra-wide chair, in the cases of Grover Cleveland and William Taft - and settles in for a long night of jollity. Ronald Reagan is the last to arrive, appearing two seats down from Gerald Ford. He glances to his right, and rolls his eyes.
"Carter's still going, I see," he says. At this, the four living presidents emerge from a side door: Carter takes his place between Ford and Reagan, and the three other surviving presidents sit at the end of the table, with George W. Bush sitting directly opposite George Washington near the head of the oblong table.
"George," he grins, nodding to Washington. Washington smiles and nods back.
Down the table, Bill Clinton leans over George H.W. Bush and taps Ronald Reagan on the shoulder. "Ronald Reagan, the actor?" he exclaims, bursting into fitful laughter.
"Yeah, very funny Bill," scowls Reagan. "You'll need that sense of humour for your wife's Presidential run."
James Buchanan, his face aghast, leans forward. "A *woman* President? That won't do at all."
"You would say that, Buchanan," mutters Richard Nixon, one eyebrow raised. Buchanan sputters and slinks back in his chair. Nixon turns to Clinton. "You think you could do that, Bill? Roast your own wife? Or even sit around while a bunch of other men roast her?"
At this, George W. Bush stifles a laugh, inviting a stern glance from his father.
"I'd give her a good roasting, if you know what I mean," says Thomas Jefferson with a wink.
"Hey, shut up Jefferson," says Clinton. "Who do you think you are, Benjamin Fra-"
He's interrupted by a chime from the grandfather clock that stood at the back of the room. One O'Clock. All of the Presidents stand, as a figure emerges from a door at the head of the room. Barack Obama smiles at his predecessors, and stand in front of his seat at the head of the table. As the presidents take their seats, Obama clears his throat to speak.
___
End of part one. Will write the actual roast if I can be bothered.
|
George stared at his mirror and smirked, his smile vastly improved now that his dentures actually fit. He raised a nearby cup of win to the mirror.
"George, you're a namby pamby and everything you've ever done was either a dare or a popular choice."
He drained his cup, the smirk leaving his face. There was no way this tradition would catch on.
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