Jun 8, 2006, 10:53 PM | |
The end
Well, I've decided to turn my wits [okay wit, okay, halfwit] to writing something. We are now taking bets as to how long my attention span will last before this withers n dies and -Oooh look! A butterfly!
Prolouge: Marik put down the glass he was cleaning and looked up as the potential customers entered. They were new to the town, and Veldt didn't get many tourists, in fact, it had hardly any permanent residents. Nothing of any note had ever happened in Veldt in the entire history of Carrotus. Unfortunately that was about to change. The girl who entered was tall, taller than anyone Maril had seen anyway, not that he'd had much expereince. She was also beautiful, no, scratch that, stunning. Every rabbit present had their gaze locked on her as she strode toward the bar; she was wearing shorts and a neat shirt that were arranged somehow as to give the impression she was barely wearing anything at all, she had long hair halfway down her back and she was red. Not just red, like many other rabbits in town, but blood red; her fur shone like a fresh cut, even her eyes gleamed like two bright rubies. Following close behind her was a short, unremarkable shellian. Both sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. Despite himself Marik was insatiably curious, a character picked up from a lifetime of living somewhere everyone knew your name, family business and good deal of your personal life. He leaned over to the couple and enquired of their names and business in the sleepy community. The change in the rabbits demeanour was startling. For a second she gave the shelian a panicked, pleading look which he pretended he couldn't see, before finaly stammering "Uh, Red. Red err... Bloodrabbit. Yes, because of, of, the fur. Yes." The shelian nonchalantly stared at him over the bartop. "And you're looking at Sheldon Langsam. Me and my partner are here selling security devices, for personal and home protection." Mentally Marik snorted. Of course, expect a shelian to be big in defence, though lord knew what she was doing with him. A body like that already had two somewhat inerberated patrons arguing over who was going to buy her a drink. Marik's thoughts were interrupted by Red staring with total focus and attention at a spot about three feet behind the back of his head, in the manner of a recovering alcoholic who has just seen a bottle of vodka in the gutter. He turned to see the object of her focus, which turned out to be the rather large and somewhat rusty sword resting above the bar behind him. It had been there ever since Marik could remember, possibly longer than the tavern itself and was coated with a thick layer of dust, grime and what you had to hope was rust. Only one thing bothered Marik about it, and that was the fact that he wasn't quite sure if it was there yesterday. "You like it huh?" He enquired. Red blinked before asking him in a voice that turned his insides to jelly if she could just look at it for a bit. Well, you couldn't refuse a request like that, and besides, the fight in the corner had become quite lively now, and the town hadn't seen any sort of punch up for over 15 years when there was a small dispute over the ownership of the town's first television set. Red stood outside the tavern listening to the brawl now raging within. She smiled. She loved it when people fought over her, and they always did, sooner or later. She gave the sword an experimental wave, it cut through the air with a quiet humm and shed its small load of dust. Now it looked far more malevolent; a piece of crudely molded steel with one singular purpose in existance, and that was, if not to end a life, to make it a lot less pleasant for the liver. It wasn't shiny, sharp or showwy, it just sat firmly in Red's grip as if it were embedded in rock, glaring out at the world like a hole into a darker, much less plesant existance. Red grinned evilly. "About time! Lets do this!" * On Shellian... * Schrock stared at the two suitcases at his feet, they represented a depressingly small amount of luggage for someone planning on not only moving house, but moving planets as well. Nearby his mother fussed over Erst, as usual. And as usual Erst's biggest worry was his shell. Neither of them had wanted to go to carrotus, but as mother has said; 'there was so much oppourtunity there'; she'd meant well, as usual, but there were some things she just didn't get. Sighing he managed to pry Erst away from a tearful embrace and they made their way to the ticket office. They got the usual odd looks given to those who'd never met Erst before, but since nearly all the shellians heading to carrotus were doing so against their will and/or better judgement and were thus making some attempt at disguising themselves, Erst's unique look got surprisingly little attention. As the ship lifted off carrying its cargo of mostly unwilling emmigrants Shrock sighed. If he knew just how bad things were going to get, he would've stayed hime, as it was he wasn't to keen anyway...
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Jun 13, 2006, 06:50 AM | |
Oooh look! Early writers enthusiasm; how long can I keep it up?
*Chapter 1: Threads* It wasn't anywhere, it wasn't even nowhere. Time and space had little meaning here, this was often not the case, many entities that claimed to be outside of time still needed time to say it in after all. But here was different, it was nothing, but lead to everywhere, a split second of nothingness that could traverse the universe, and time too if conditions were right. The entity stretched, if that could be used to describe something without a body in any respect. Likewise its purring to itself was little more than an emission of microwave radiaition. Nonetheless, it was pleased. They had arrived, everyone it had spent years years working out the small details, a little push here, an alteration there, now it could emerge, and it would be strong * * * Jazz struggled through the wreckage of the small town trying not to look at anything that would further disturb him, if that were possible. Whatever had happened here, it didn't deserve the title of 'riot' that he had been told would be awaiting him. It didn't even deserve the ttle of 'battle; this was far worse. He had been in plenty of fights, skirmishes, battles and even slaughters, but this was madness, perhaps atrocity was the word to be used here. Things like this were just not seen It was as if the entire town had gone homicidal at once; half of the squad that had arrived had stayed at the edge of the small settlement, too horrified to continue further. Most of the survivours had been captured, barely three dozen from a community of over four hundred, and each one had had to be sedated or beaten unconsious. Now all that was left was the wreckage, and the bodies. A lot of them were small, far too small to have ended like this. Nobody had expected anything like this; Veldt as far as anyone knew was just a small collection of buildings along on of the many traveling paths that connected the various bigger communities; one among hundreds Then someone had called in the army, and then there was this. What should be done now, Jazz mused, would be to have the entire place burned to the ground and declared unholy. He sat down on the remains of a small truck. It had once been quite a respectable truck, before it had been blown up, looted and set on fire. Amongst the charred, twisted metal barely visible was the legend 'Langsam defensive equipemnt' Jazz sighed, for the first time in a long time, he had absolutely no idea what to do. *Elsewhere...* Schrock sat down heavily on the park bench. Geez, what a day; nothing but waiting, then standing in line, more waiting, customs, further waiting... And for what? It was cold and getting dark and here they were sitting outside of some hostel a million, no, no, lets see, 17.6 light years from home. He'd never felt more displaced than he did right now. Well at least nobody seemed to be paying them any attention; that was a good thing in Shrock's books. Even Erst wasn't being noticed, at least not more than usual. But everything was so, so different And there was too much to do, find proper accomodation for one, jobs for another, there were hardly any turtles here, and those that there were were hardly helpful, and for some reason he had the terrible feeling that life was out to get him. His somewhat gloomy mood was interrupted by Erst's return. He was,as usual in a cheerful mood; it took a lot to upset Erst, he had some kind of antibodies to depression. If anything marked him as adopted it was that, Schrock's entire family had a definite if not exactly mean, then blue streak. He was humming, a tuneless cheerful melody that would sit in your head and annoy you the whole evening. "Hey Schrock! Isn't this place great! I met these two really great rabbits and we went to this place called 'The Pink (-) Cat' and there was free food, well, not really meal food, but snacks there! Isn't that great?" Schrock considered this. Erst had a horrible habit of trying to fit in, even though he didn't, but his one success was an uncanny ability to make friends, if not very many of them. He watched his brother sit down and start polishing his shell. And now they were here so he could fit in someplace he belonged and everyone would be happy and there would be little pink birdies and butterflies and- "Pink (-) Cat?" What kind of place is that? Erst looked up, his face a mask of recolection and eagerness 'Well, I don't really know, one of those party places, only the only people dancing were these girls on the stage, everyone else was just sitting there cheering. I think its some kind of theatre, like the travelling circus back home, but in one place!" Schrock tried to piece the scene together in his mind. "Ah, and um, these girls, not wearing anything right?" Erst gave him a look that Schrock had leanred meant 'Yes, why?' and he sighed. Typical Erst, nice guy, eager as anything, but there were some things he just didn't get, no matter how hard you hammered them into his head. "Look, rabbits view clothing different here; don;t ask me about it, but apparently nudity is both shocking and entertaining." He got another Look as Erst ran this through his mind. "But..but we're not wearing anything, nor are some of the rabbits here, even the king only wears bracelets-" Schrock snapped "Look! I don't make the rules OK? Rabbits are just plain nuts! Who knows why they do anything?" Schrock watched his brother quietly walk back outside. He shouldn't have been so snappy, but (-)! This place, these people, this whole dam day was getting to him. Outside it started to rain gently. People hurried indoors to stay dry and mumbled about the lousy weather. They may have been more grateful if they'd known the world would end in just under a week.
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Jun 18, 2006, 06:54 AM | |
Oooh, I am *wired* tonigh; its 3am and I've consumed much coffee, sugar and cruddy late night B-Movies Now you know what I do waiting for 'Sone of Dracula' to end and 'The Bride of Frankenstein' to begin.
*Chapter 2: Affairs of state* Amil was deep in concentration, fine tuning her soccer skills. She was now quite passable, because, although she had no talent whatsoever, she'd had a lot of time to practice. Nearby her three friends Alice, Sidera and Andil were engrossed in a game of Step, Shellian checkers. Of course she'd rather have been anywhere but the shelian quarter of the city, but she simply didn't have the cash to go anywhere else, and she was not[/] squatting. Besides it had its advantages, [i[nobody here showed any interest in soccer, a game that involved both speed and dexterity, so she was left pretty much alone. Okay, maybe 'friends' was too intimate a term for the three shellions present, but at least [she was pretty sure] they would be slightly upset by her death. She graduly became aware of an intense staring at the back of her neck, much like what little children do before they ask one of the 'dreaded questions' [Such as "Mommy, what are those two dogs doing?'] It was another Shellion; she continued her practice, aware that she was still being stared at. "What's that?" "Its a soccer ball, you've probbably never heard of it. You gotta hit the ball with any part of your body except your feet, even your head- oof!" The Shelian continued to stare as Amil gingerly rubbed her nose. 'Ummm, but you face Doesn't that hurt?' 'Rrrgh! Thats not what I meant to do!' growled Amil as the blood started to flow. SHe tottered over to her 'friends' to borrow a hankercheif 'Stupid twit! Probbably only one shellian soccer fan and he ends up here!" Andil handed her a tissue. 'He's a rabbit' she said calmly. Amil scowled. That was shellians for you. Probbably some big insult back in turtle land. They could've at least used the local slang, they *did* live here after all. * * * Spaz stood to attention as the Queen approached. He knew the routine now, but the sight of the Queen always unerved him, when somebody's thrown you through a stained glass window just for eating their pet budgie, its hard to ever be at ease around them. Besides, it had got out of its cage, what did she expect? Okay, maybe the door needed jiggling but- 'SPAZ JACKRABBIT!' the harsh voice cut through his idle thoughts like a diamond sawblade. He stood sharply to attention, performing a salute that nearly knocked him unconsious. The queen towered over him, and around him too; she was a woman built for... built for... well, just built really. 'I hope you will be taking this duty as seriously as always?' Spazz nodded vigourusly, but not so vigourusly as to slobber anywhere [One can only face having one's tounge slammed in a door a few times.] Admiral Ducat was already approaching, wearing the hunted, worried expression of anyone that had to spend long periods of time around the queen- without earmuffs. 'We will be discussing state business, most likely for the next hour or so. As susual I want NO interruptions no matter WHAT you hear or WHAT the reason! You've done a good job so far and I hope I can trust you with important missions like these?' Again Spaz nodded vigourusly. 'Very well, do your duty' Admiral Ducat gave Spaz a harried, almost pleading look as the door shut slowly behind him. There are very few magical doorways in the multiverse, but most of those that are remain undiscovered due to the fact that they do not sparkle or shimmer in any way. Knowing this one could have eaily belived one such doorway was being guarded by Spaz. Before the Queen walked through it you could have sharpened axes on her glare but the instant she passed through she seemed to shrink and deflate. No such transformation overcame Admiral Ducat however, who was about as deflated already as one could get without being a balloon. He turned a worried face to the Queen. 'Your majesty! We can't keep this up! Somebody's bound to find out sooner or later, surely even that redheaded dolt suspects something?' The Queens reply, when it came, was unusually quiet and measured. 'Roland please, Spaz Jackrabbit wouldn't know if it was teusday or thursday and please, call me Emalia.' The admiral sighed and sat down on a bed. This was one of the forgotten rooms of the castle, a guest room maybe? Or for some royal personage no longer resident or living? Who knew? But it had been tidied up quite recently and showed signs of having been lived in, or at least used often in the recent past. The bed creaked and sagged as the Queen sat down on it her sheer weight deforming it and pulling Roland towrds her, much like a massive star would a planet. He paused. 'I didn't know you were called Emalia.' This time it was the Queen who sighed. She put an broad arm over the admiral's shoulders. 'I don't know, I've been 'The Queen' so long I've completely forgotten, but I like the sound of it, don't you?' After that, neither said anything for a long, long time. * * * Outside Spaz was busy making his way through a large sandwich; nobody said gaurds had to go hungry after all. Besides, those two always took longer than an hour. Whatever they were discussing must be real important and Spaz felt a twinge of pride at having a hand in such important matters. Noticing a small stone had fallen from the ceiling he tossed it idly out of a window. There was a hollow "thock" as it colided with something down below. The entity stood over the unconsious rabbit, if that word could be used, and let loose a small quip of excited ultraviolet. Perfect! The stone had fallen three stories and rather improbbably had caused a major concussion. And it had seen it! Wonderful! Everything was going to plot...
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Jun 27, 2006, 06:57 AM | |
Once again its late at night and I have been locked outside in the cold. I'm gonna post this then knock manically on the door again.
*Chapter 3: Employment* Tier rustled the page of his magazine and stared at the headline 'Long live the king! Shell ends corrupt governemnt!' Dear lord! This thing was almost a decade old! He stared at his surrounds, they had the usual sickening limey green colorscheme seen in government buildings everywhere. Once it had been bright and fresh and efficient, but as usual it had become grimy and rundown. There were a lot of other shellions here, slouching around, and even a few rabbits. Say what you will about politics, lazyness was universal. The clock ticked over to 11:00 and a smartly dressed clerk walked over to the main display board and tacked up a small list of new jobs avalible. Erst was of course, the only one to eagerly hop up and examine the list, Schrock followed behind, so far none of the jobs had required their particular skills of waiting tables and general culinary expertise. Erst waved a small sheet of paper under his nose. 'Look! There's a vacancy at the palace! For a waiter! The Queens head waiter was knocked out cold and quit! One of us can-" Schrock cut him off cold with a stare. "NO No way in hell Erst, , that (-) rockheap is a nuthouse, and I won't have anything to do with it." A small yellow rabbit scurried in and pinned something to the board, Schrock glanced at it then ripped it off. He stopped the rabbit before she got to the door. 'Excuse me miss, do I read this right? Two vacancies?" The rabbit nodded. "Well be tending bar?" Another nod "And this 'Peace Tavern, it has, had, and will have any connection with famous people, living or dead, legends or anybody by the name of Jacrabbit?" The rabbit stared. "Err, generally we're pretty lucky if we get customers that can pay in cash.' Schrock smiled. Excellent, you have your turtles madam. The rabbit looked perplexed. 'You want to be hired? Actually hired? To work in the peace tavern? I mean, as a job?' Schrock considered this. 'I'm going to regret it, but surely not as much as I would going to work in that (-) castle. Give me the details and we'll talk salaries.' Erst followed his brother and the rabbit; she was the same one he'd seen yesterday evening. Small world. * * * The entity blinked. Or would have done had it any eyelids. It examined the turtles mind in annoyance. Yes, it figured; a poison to stories. So its plan had failed, no matter, it had been working on this for so long, and in so many ways, they couldn't resist it now, they were it. All it had to do was wait, and, as usual, nudge things a bit. * * * Larrock Scwartz looked gloomily at his fries before tossing them absentmindedly into the trash can. His aim was perfect, it always was; sometimes the trashcan moved to ensure this. If you'd told him that there were starving children who would die for that, he'd reply that he knew Larrock knew a lot. They had no nutritional value either, at least, not for anyone with enough to eat. He knew this as well. (-)! He'd spent too long here; what was it? Fourty? Fifty years? Far, far too long. He sipped absentmindedly at his soda. This had no nutritional value either, but the patrons at the surrounding tables were consuming theirs with gusto. Larrock knew this, and knew why, and hated it. There was a whimper next to him and he turned to see what could easily have been mistaken for some comic paradoy on the odd couple. The two rabbits watching him with awe couldn't be more different, one was blue, short and almost as wide as tall, the other was almost twice her size, and a quarter of her width. Larrock could see that there was one simalarity, they were both starving to death. It wouldn't take long, a few months at most, they were probbably aware of the fact, just blanking it out like so many people did. The thin one was clutching a battered copy of a small book Larrock had learned to dread. She coughed surreptiously. 'Dr L Schwartz? I've been following your diet plan for eight months now, and Amy is just about to start! I can't thank you enough for what you've done! Could you please, Pleeeeaaase sign my copy?' Larrock cringed inwardly, but pulled a sleek black pen from his pocket and wrote a brief crisp message on the inside cover. It was 'Staying slim with Willpower' another one of his many publishing efforts. 'Whats your name? Cindy? With a 'y' right? Okay.' He watched the two toddle away in awe. It was entirely possible they'd live of course, but Larrock still shuddered at the though, then hated himself for thinking it. He got up, this was just too much; he'd started this resturant; it had been one of his first and at the time, finest actions, but he hated the very sight of the place now. Outside the night air was cooler; he could relax. The two rabbits from earlier were leaving also, having been unlikely to purchase any of what passed for food inside. In the dark, in the alleyway Larrock looked like the stereotypical serial killer. He hadn't meant to,it was just that bodies had a mind of their own, and some things went with the job. As it was he looked more raven than rabbit; impossibly slick black fur on such a narrow frame, neat and natty black suit and snazzy black sunglasses. Larrock liked black, he- There was a gleam in the darkness. Larrock pulled it out; it had been half burried in the days trash but he could see it- There was a dul clatter as the pair of golden scalesfell from his hands, tinkling onto the ground in a way that suggested they were a lot heavier than they looked. Technically gold would have deformed, hit the ground with a thunk like plasticine, but this wasn't gold, not exactly anyway. No. No. No, this couldn't be happening now Larrock paled and took a step backward. But he knew what he had to do, a small part of him had no choice. He picked up the scales and shoved them in his shirt pocket, badly tearing the lining, not that it mattered anyway. "They're pretty, lucky you found them huh?" Larrock whirled around to face the two rabbits from earlier. The scales were the old fashioned balance type; two dishes, one crossbar, to weigh one thing aginst another, they were exquisitely crafted. He clutched for a respone 'Uh, yeah. Look, Cindy; about the diet; I think you're lacking in iron, you might want to have a decent steak when you get home, its an... an error in the diet sometimes." He left the two rabbits standing there and headed to his car. Like him it was sleek and black, capable of exceeding any speedlimit you could set, including what the odometer could show. It unlocked itself, it always did. The lights went on automatically, as usual, a small dent in the paintwork caused by a hurried commuter healed itself, leaving nothing but a smooth black finnish. Larrock was right, the rabbit wouldn't live to see the new year. They probbably didn't have good odds of seeing next month either.
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Jul 8, 2006, 08:29 AM | |
I'd just like to take this time to say thankyou to Coppertop for all her moderating; its a very undervalued job.
*Chapter 4: Cause and effect* Perhaps the single most famous tavern both on Carrotus itsekf and offworld is the War Tavern; a building that has been around for so long it has achieved two capital letters in its name, and edifice synonymous with succes and the telling of tall tales. Practically since the day of its construction it has been a gathering place for the big names and heroes of Carrotus and surrounding space. Built several hundred years ago to celebrate the acesnsion of King Fitzwick Earlong, it was actually the second of two buildings at opposite ends of the town, sppositely named the War and Peace Taverns, the second being dedicated to the king's wife Estania. Perhaps it was her ensuing coup attempt, trial and execution that first tarnished the Peace Tavern's name, but it has never gained the popularity of its sister construction. There are certain places that practially cry out for people to get riotusly drunk and start singing in a loud, obtrusive manner. These places usually have large, roaring fires, lots of happy people talking loudly and order their liquor in large tankards, Then there are the places people go when all they want to do is consume a large amount of alchohol [preferably in the form of drink rather than industrial solvents] and try to forget the miseries of life. This was such a place; it was dank, dismal dark and you could practically feel the rising damp soaking up out of the floor. There wasn't much conversation here, most of what there was was spoken in a low, depressed tone. There was only one exception to the gloom as Erst bustled behind the bar serving drinks to anyone who slouched their way up to the bar. He was also attempting conversation too, in the utterly oblivious manner of someone who either had no idea where they are, or has been paid to be cheerful. Amidst the smoke and grime Lori sat morosely. In deference to her dislike of aquiring virulent diseases, her barstool had been covered with newspaper. She'd seen a lot recently she'd rather forget, and the turpentine content of the Peace Tavern's drinks made that a welcome possiblity. There was someone new at the bar this week; apparently someone had decided to put money before personal hygeine and replace Stadt as barkeep. She wondered if Stadt had really retired, or whether he'd just decided to invest more time in one of his other 'business' ventures. It really was a pity, he was quite a nice guy, although possibly some of this had to do with the fact that Lori always paid, and always with money. She turned to the patron next to her, who as far as she could tell had been drinking continuously for the past four hours. It was amazing he was still living. Having herself consumed just over four litres of what was technically paint stripper, Lori's attempt at communication was mostly jibberish but eventually she managed to stammer out a sentence in what could pass for english [in the 'special' class] Her neighbour looked at her through an impressive pair of sunglasses. "Wi niggh? Oh bloody hell! I am (-) aren't i? Nevermind, it'll all be the same in a few days time anyway. You...you got the right idea! I say, find a place with good...god, fod n booze and have a good time! Whoo! Whats the time? Oh bugger this, better sober up." Through the rising haze of drink Lori watched him shudder, spit out a large quantity of clear flamable smelling liquid and straightened up. He then walked unusually steadily out the door and into the night. Lori stared at her glass, there was something wrong with it, and that was the fact that it was currently empty. She ordered another round. Outside Vernon Klase was having a bad day. He was no longer drunk and it would be a matter of miniutes before his big meeting. He didn't know what it was about, but it was the first time they'd wanted to talk to him since...since, well since he could remember, and that probbably wasn't a good thing. He ducked into the disused alley where he knew they'd be waiting, and, as expected, there they were. The two contacts they'd sent lurked evily at its end, bith such a drab shade of brown that they were almost background. They leered as he approached them. 'Right, so what 'ave we here then? Vern Klase huh? You been spending too much time up here; starting to get ideas I think" the words were spat, the disgust in their speaker's voice evident with every sylable. "Pers'nally I can't see why they've got some low ranking rat like you to do this; but it aint my job to argue you sign for this, 'n be at the meeting point on time and this could mean quite a promotion." The second figure sneered "Yeah, I'd give my right arm for an oppourtunity like this; well, someone's right arm anyway." Vernon looked helplessley at the small package being handed to him, it was small, ractangular and not very heavy, but in his hands it suddenly seemd a lot bigger, and more menacing. He gulped and signed his name on the clipboard. Beurocracy, even here. The first figure stared at the signature. "Nah, not Vern buddy; your real name." Vernon shuddered; what he wrote next wasn't Vernon Klase, it was a lot longer. Another snort. "Your signature, signature!" Vernon shuddered again and wrote something a lot shorter; one rune, basicaly oval in shape, but obsurdly complicated. There was a hiss as it was finnished and the paper and clipboard dissapeared. The two figures nodded, a signal form one professional to another and blended into the darkness. Vernon stood with the package clutched tightly in his hands as it began to rain. It was going to be a long, cold, dark, night.
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Jul 26, 2006, 08:28 AM | |
Bah, schoolwork is piling up. What say I abandon this? Nobody's reading it. [Actually, even Nobody hasn't bothered, he's bathing his cat]
*Chapter 5: Loaction, location, location* The lake glistened dully in the moonlight. And it glistened; in a way no water should. Its banks were a jungle of life, twisted winding weeds choking the few straggly trees that remained. Nearby a chainsaw rang out signalling another proud forest denizen was becoming a sheet of newsprint and a chair. The rabbits liked wood, they even ate it on occasion. Wit stood by the lakeside, idly dipping a shoetip into the water, which bleached and corroded the leather as he watched. Wit smiled warmly; now *this* was a sight to see; as the sun rose the air glowed orange, and the lake shone like a thousand pearls, and like a pearl, an irritant and lifeless. Wit had had a lot of names over the years; he never could keep just one, besides, it helped with the passports. Sometimes he'd been Mark Darcon, Gunter Weiss or Andy Dull; nonody noticed Wit, he was just that kind of guy. He was, at the current time, a rather tall and gaunt rabbit, his fur the colour of dirty snow, eyes bright red and focused at a point about three feet behind the back of your skull. He wore a worn out business suit and some glasses held together with so much sellotape they'd withstand a direct hit by a tank. He had a quiet, slightly nervous disposition that made him easy to pass over. He sat in the background, janitor, graveyard shift security, small, unoticeable jobs involving day to day running of various enterprises, usually of a scientific or industrial bent. This had been his most recent; he'd barely been there two weeks, yet he'd done so much! There had been the leaky valve for one thing... And the rabbits never cleaned up, or said they were sorry, that was so much fun Even after they did something horribly, terribly wrong, they'd just walk away, and act like it never happened! All you had to do was prod here, twist there, and they'd let it all go wrong and, this was the important bit, make it worse in a thousand little way, they made up themselves! Wit smiled, it would be great just to drop a match, just to see... so perfect... There was something in the weeds. Wit stopped his musing and walked over to it. It was a small, silver crown. As he touched it it tarnished. He put it on, it turned pitch black, and gleamed with a purple sheen no metal could have. Wit straightened up, there was work to do; the biggest job of all. It was about time too, but he had to hurry, the others would be there already. * * * Jazz walked aimlessly down the corridor, humming tunelessly under his breath. It figured, it just figured You get home after a hard day of blasting turtles, blowing up their villages and crushing their industry, and they're all out of carrot soup! On carrotus for chrissake! Why did all the bad things happen to him? His deeply philosophical line of reasoning was shattered by the Queen ambling down the same corridor, as absentmindedly as he was. She was singing, and in a bright pink dress. Windows craked as she passed by, and Jazz' filling popped out when she hit a high note. She was, Jazz noticed, attempting to hop and skip, though this was having a rather detrimental effect on the floor. SHe stopped dead when she saw Jazz. 'What are you staring at? Can't I be cheerful if I like?" She stormed past, her footfalls causing bits of masonry to fall a story below. Jazz realised he was crouched in a corner, hell, it was either that or become a bightly colored stain on the stonework. Jazz quietly tiptoed the other way, evidently this was some kind of middlea aged woman thing, and you just didn't mess with that stuff, some things men were not meant to know.
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Jul 26, 2006, 11:01 PM | |
I'm sorry, its just hard to tell if anyone's actually paying attention, I mean the 'how fast can you type the alphabet' topic is six times as watched as this, so its self evident that this isn't even as interesting as a typing competition.
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
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Jul 28, 2006, 06:59 AM | |
Really? I'll be. Its probbably paranoia from my old english teacher Mrs Heratten; whenever you made a speech, or submitted an essay, or when she looked over your work, she'd just go all quiet and *stare* thne she'd either pass you, or fail you so hard your children would flunk.
Eh, I forgot to tack some of this onto chap 5, so I added some more and made a new chap. [Though 5 was a bit short...] *Chapter 6: Rest* The entitiy purred, a long flash of microwaves. This was simply delicious, all the parts clicking together like a little clock, each turing another, and being turned in turn. It was only a matter of time, it was gaining strength, and the ability to warp reality around itself. All that was needed was to nourish it a bit more, give it what it needed and set it loose. Some nudging would be needed, especially when dealing with *them* but it was almost inevitable now. It could afford to take a break; manifesting yourself took it out of you. Not that it felt tired of course, it had nothing to feel tired with, just...dimminished * * * Schrock lay down and pulled the sheets up over his shell. Apparently it was more traditional to sleep inside one's shell, but if you did that you woke up smelling like body odour. Erst managed to get away with it though, hell; lord knew what he'd done with the inside of his shell, it was probbably velvet lined or something. He'd read that somewhere; custom shell modifications, you could have them amour plated and everything. Ah the rush of tecnology. Somewhere in the darkness Erst curled into his customary sleeping position, you could hear his spine creak, that couldn't be good for it. He only did it because he'd heard that what 'normal' turtles did; you had to hand it to him, he went to some incredible lengths to fit in, for as long as Schrock could remember, there wasn't a single day he could remember where Erst hadn't been polishing and touching up his shell every spare moment, even here, surrounded by all this... this... rabitidity. If mother had thought this would settle him down, she was very, very wrong. Schrock lay back and listened to the rain on the roof... and the constant drip drips leaking through to the floor. The rising damp here was only being kept at bay by the faliing damp from above. It had started raining as soon as they'd left work, but as they had neither clothing nor belongings to get soaked it hadn't really been that bad. It was fun to see the rabbits rushing around though, usually either getting terribly muddy in the puddles, or even running straight into or through things in their path. Work. Ah, at least something was going right. It was a proper job at least; the accounts had been in terrible shape, it seems few people actually paid in cash, and he'd been forced to start up a seperate roster for teeth, which, having a dentist for a neighbour back home he fixed zt 25 gold coins fresh, of two silver stale. Dear lord! These rabbits were amazing! Hadn't they heard of decimalized currency? Or notes...? Schrock graduly fell asleep amid his thoughts. * * * Erst lay half asleep listening to the rain; the drips made a briliant mathematical series, he could almost see the prime numbers emerge; 1,2,3,5... of course he always counted primes to get to sleep, because, because, well, he always had. It had taken him a few years to get from 23 to 197, which always sent him off to dreamland, but he was, if anything patient, if a bit slow in the brainpower department. Things were going very well, they hadn't been here two days and they'd already got jobs and accomodation, you couldn't beat that, and everyone was so friendly; they weren't even giving him the looks he got back home, well, except for the turtles here. It seemed that the rabbits didn't even notice him! Wonderful! * * * Typical! Why now? Why now? Just when he was getting used to the place? (-)! It wasn't fair! Vernon hurried through the pouring rain, heading toward carrotus castle. He had a long way to go; several oceans, three forests a dozen towns and innumerable pastures lay between him and his goal a few hundred kilometers away. It didn't matter, not to Vernon of course, but it would mean traveling without pause for rest for at least a day, and Vernon had got to like sleep; sometimes he spent weeks napping. [Not because he needed to, but because he could.] And now this had happened. He was going to have to go all the way to the capital, where else. Showoffs; it didn't have to be the grandest most obvious place, it could as easily be some out of the way village, or a bare hilltop, not all this fuss and pompery. And what did they need him for anyway? Muttering Vernon strode into the storm. * * * It would be stupid to say the world slept; worlds never sleep; parts of them might get darkk regularly, but just as much was bathed in light at the same time. Even worlds of darkness, far out in space and coated with chocking ammonia clouds spun gently and turned themselves over [and in some cases harboured the sleeping seeds of comatose life, dreaming of warmer times] Even in the deepest night the air buzzed with activity. bugs and birds and plants and the odd nocturnal rabbit in the towns. But maybe the world did sleep, when it thought nobody would notice, or perhaps it was just a spirit of calm, like the silence before a storm, that blanketed the world. Carrotus sped through space at a little over three thousand kilometers a second, as it had since it first congealed from the solar mist; a small green jewel against the blackness of space. If you had the right eyes, and specail training, you might perhaps discern something emerging from it, trailing behind it like comet dust, black on black as somethin fled the world. And others gathered. .
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nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
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Aug 7, 2006, 06:56 AM | |
*Chapter 7: Dawn*
The next day dawned brightly. Considering that not an hour before sunrise there had been pouring rain, it was quite an improvement. All around there was the smell of drying rain, that fresh feeling you only get after a storm has passed. The sun shone brightly in an almost cloudless sky, the whole world seemed refreshed, like it had emerged from a brisk shower. All in all, things were looking to be pretty good. Schrock slurped lazily at his breakfast. It was his own time saving invention, pond scum and coffee, although the way these rabbits made coffe it was hard to tell the difference. He'd become hooked on the stuff as a kid and now he was no good without a cup [or bowlful] of the stuff inside him. [And there's nothing worse than a slow turtle.] The fact that he was using a straw usually didn't strike people so much as efficient as just plain weird. As usual Erst was up and ready; he didn't so much sleep as lie down and shut his eyes. On the other hand, the closest he got to excited was slight eagerness. He sat in the early morning sun, warming his shell. Despite all the rumours and the fact that it was 'common knowledge' on carrotus; turtles weren't actually cold blooded. While they didn't produce their own heat very efficiently, metabolism produced waste warmth, and the turtles were large enough that they could keep any warmth they produced. Of course, cold is cold is cold, and it helped to get a little assist in the mornings. There was a slurp as he finnished the last of his breakfast and became aware of someone standing next to him. She was another shellian, no surprise in this district. [The rabbits had an amusing tendency to not be able to distinguish male from female shell markings; it was almost comical that the rabbits blithely seemed to think that all turtles that emiigrated were male, unless wearing clothing stating otherwise.] Interestingly her shell had a large crack down the front that had knitted together; not many turtles survived something capable of doing that. 'Hey, you're new in town right? You arrived with the rabbit right? The weird guy?' she gestured toward Erst who was engrossed with several others in some kind of card game across the street. This seemed to rattle the newcomer, as expected. 'Brother? A rabbit He looks nothing like you!' 'Oh yes, adopted of course. 'Yes, yes, he's my brother. And I'd appreciate it if you stayed away from the rabbit comments; he tries to be a normal turtle, but he's just not all there OK?' Schrock watched her walk off, muttering and reflected how ironic it was that the rabbits had been no troubble at all, whereas his own species was probbably going to be their biggest obstacle toward settling in. You had to face it, life was a b(-); and one with PMS at that. There was a shelian curse for things like this 'Why do I live in such interesting times?' It was becomming ever more appropriate. * * * Jazz stared dumbly into his cereal He was never his best before his third cup of coffee [Rabits have to get their speed from somewhere Groggily he ate a spoonful. Carrot flavoured. It figured. You could never get a decent non-orange snack around here, for once it'd be nice not to have a diet intractibly linked to root vegetables. It was about that time Spaz bounded in, full of his usual energy and entusiasm; he went straight from asleep to running on all cylinders. [Just out of curiousity him and Lori had kept him awake for four days straight. There wasn't any change per se; but he did start claiming to be a hummingbird, which put an end to things pretty quickly.] Spaz had interesting breakfasts, quite apart from the fact that to him meals were more a restraint than proper eating habits, he had yet to master the concepts of 'diet' and 'appropriate foods' Currently he was dining on half a roast ham, a bowl of strawberry icecream, and a jar of pickles. Mixed together. It thus took Jazz some time, especially in his early morning state to notice anything amiss. He watched Spaz for some time before bothering to mention anything; with Spaz you could never tell. 'Hey bro? Err, new pet?' Spaz looked up from the difficult task of attempting to swallow without chewing and looked blank for a moment. Jazz subtly motioned toward the large red bird on his shoulder, which was currently attempting to see if Spaz's ear and a rasher of bacon were simalar. Spaz looked at it, then went back to eating. 'Yea! Her name's Kira! She's a present from the queen for me doing err... stuff!' Jazz thought this over stuff? What on earth would Spaz possibly be doing that he got a...a... Jazz thought this over as well; he was sure he'd seen or read something about these birds before. 'Hey! Is that a Goshawk?' Lori bounded in, looking remarkably worse for wear, no wonder considering what had happend. She ran over and petted the bird. 'Lori, I don't think thats such a good id-' 'Aaagh!' Jazz ran what he knew through his head. The Carrotus Goshawk, close relative to the Carrotus Wowhawk, bred by the royalty especially for falconing, and indeed bred so sucessfully that they were for all intents and purposes about as kind and gentle as a rottweiler with PMS No wonder Spaz had been given one, the queen was evidently trying to remove one annoyance from the castle, the question was, which one? The bird itself was roughly a third Spaz's size, it was a wonder he could support it without falling over; as it was its claws were dug in so hard there were blood spatters, not that you'd notice more red on red fur. It was rather eagle shaped, with a cruel hooked beak and eyes that stared at the world with two things in mind, food or pain, possibly both. It was female from what he could tell and probbably quite old, at least a decade. Apparently they got more obtuse and evilminded as they aged. Bleaurgh. He gently pushed Lori, still staring at her bloodied hand, out the door. 'You really want to see the medics about that, its gonna need stitches for sure. There was a flutter as yet another small bid banged against one of the castles many windows. It was always gross when they knocked themselves out, especially if they landed on your food. There was a shark shriek, the sound of wings and Kira perched once again on Spaz, a few ruffled feathers falling from her beak. Jazz sighed, on second thought given Lori's needle phobia, perhaps it was better if he accompanied her to surgery. Hopefully the rest of the day wouldn't be so... interesting. .
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nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
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Aug 7, 2006, 11:22 AM | |
Very good. Please write more.
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Aug 12, 2006, 04:10 AM | |
Boy am I depressed today, and I have no idea why. Its really annoying. Oh well, it gives me time to work on my emo look. 'Nuther chapter too. [Sorry BB]
*Chapter 8: Snarkfor* It was midmorning when the truck pulled up to the diner, driving not only as if it owned the road, but also as if everything else on it was mere distraction. Given the nature of things, that could well be the case. It slid demurely into the diner's small parking lot and occupied two disabled parks. Nobody would mind; the roading system on Carrotus was woefully underdeveloped and rabbits' view on parks was one of benign neglect. The truck istelf was a brilliant, gleaming red like a freshly polished aplle. It looked as if it had been bought yesterday, despite its make and model delcaring that it must be all of 75 years old, at least. Two character emerged, a rabbit and turtle and headed toward the diner. 'Hey, you left the lights on.' remarked Sheldon offhandedly. Red stared at the truck and waved her hand. The lights went out. The truck was still unlocked, this didn't matter as there was no fuel in the tank, and anyone attempting to steal it would be in for a nasty surprise. Red had changed her attire for the day; you had to dress up for special occasions after all. She'd decided to go with a red leather jacket and pants, and rose colored sunglasses. Red of course believed in never comprimizing vision, thus anyone looking out from the specially designed lenses saw the world in perfect color. Anyone looking in saw nothing but two pools of red. Sheldon hadn't done anything to change, he never did, he always looked perfectly... perfectly... shellian. The owner looked up as they entered; she'd owned amd run the Snarkfor cafe ['If you don't eat here, we'll both starve!'] for over thirty years and business had been brisk that morning. Snarkfor itself [Once the location of a fanatical cult of shoe worsippers] had never been a very large town, despite lying on oe of Carrotus' most busy roadways. Shuttles had rendered what little trafficthere was obsolete, and rabbits themselves had never had much desire to move around, at least by car, thus 'brisk' business had consisted of half a dozen orders in the last two hours. These two looked interesting, and Andrea liked interesing; cafe owning was dull work and last years 3'600 piece jigsaw was almost done. The new arrivals sat down at one of the larger tables, talked a bit, and then the turtle got up to make an order. He took his time. 'Excuse me? We'd like a oooh, lets see... how about two coffees and a savoury roll?" Dear lord he even talked slow! "Sure thing hon, expecting more visitors? Only its gonna be a bit lonely at that table if you aint." The shellian paused 'Oh yes, I'd say hmmm... 4 others, they should be here soon. We've got a lot of work to do, and such precious little time to do it in.' With that he took his order and went back to his table. Its often believed that rabbits have super hearing, at least by anyone who wasn't themselves a rabbit, however, in Andrea's case, this was more or less true, curiousity had honed her skills to razor sharp, and the two characters were having just the kind of conversation you could get really interested in. 'The others are coming, not more than an hour or two away I'd say.' 'Yea, but so's it (-), why does it have to interfere all the time?' 'We'll be fine, we've done this before, we'll do it again, its all just a matter of patience and duty.' 'Well I hope so, I've been looking forward to this.'
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Sep 2, 2006, 06:10 PM | |
Ah, last day of winter break *sigh* Oh well...
*Chapter 9: Summer days* Erst wandered aimlessly down the street, his mind retracing the route he took the previous day. As he was now working permanently he'd committed it to memory. Occasionally he dodged obstacles that weren't there, or blundered into ones that had been placed there overnight. Slightly behind him and moving much more agilely was Schrock, who was watching where he was going. He moved a lot faster than you'd expect from a shelian. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" The rabbit grabbed a hold of Schrock's shell and spun him round. "(-) shelian! What the hell is wrong with you? I don't know why we didn't just dispose of you all when we had the chance!" Schrock frowned and pretended not to hear, but the rabbit didn't let go. And then Erst was there. 'Excuse me, we have to get to work, can you please let him go?' The rabbit squinted. "Hmm... no. What say I stand here and do nothing? Its not like you could be in a hurry now is it?" Schrock watched with deepening dread as Erst thought this over. He had no sense of sarcasm. "Actually, yes, we are in a hurry, our job starts in a quarter of an hour." The rabbit sneered 'Oh yes? And what would you do if I punched you right now shellfrog?" Erst considered this "I don't know, you haven't done it yet." The rabbits fist was already moving when Erst replied. There was a sickening *crrk* as it collided. The rabbit clutched his hand to his chest. "F* F* F*! Imma *kill you for that! I'll KILL you." But Erst and Schrock had moved on. Erst kept staring at the front of his shell "That wasn't very nice, he's scratched it, look!" "Shutupshutupshutup! You want we get into trouble? Don't answer that, lets just get going" * * * The dirty green truck slowly chugged its way up the narrow road, leaving the occasional speck and spatter of leaked oil or discarded wrapper in its wake. Its engine was poorly tuned, belching black smoke, its windows were crusted with grime. A dandelion was sprouting out of a crack in one of its mirrors and its approach could be heard a mile away. It somewhat unsteadily turned into the parking lot before utterly collapsing slowly like a melting glacier, parts bending, breaking or just falling off leaving little more than a heap of scrap metal. Anyone who had seen it arrive would've been surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner. Nevertheless a figure emerged from the wreckage, pushing aside a door that immediately fell off its hinges, and marched into a the cafe ahead. The owner looked up as he entered, bringing with him several candy wrappers that had blown in with the wind, they skittered across the floor before hiding under a table. He calmly walked over to the only occupied table in the joint and sat down. Meanwhile there was a gasp and a crunch from the bar; the owner had discovered a cockroach under a saucer that had suddenly grown a lovely crop of mould. Wit watched a small shape scurry out from under a bench and into a corner. Wit snapped his fingers and the cockroach crawled out and across the floor. He picked it up and stroked it gently. 'Sometimes I just love life, I don't know what people have against them. So, how long till the big event?" Outside the sun shone, birds chirped and people went about their business. It looked as if it was going to be an unusually pleasant day.
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nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
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Sep 15, 2006, 05:40 AM | |
Hmmmn, its so tempting to see if I can sneak swearwords into this mass of text... do you think the admins are watching?
*Chapter 10: Decadence* Despite being early morning the peace tavern was already crowded, or at least busy since its customers weren't the type to crowd anywhere. Very few of them were drinking, yet several were unconscious. They busied themselves gambling, arguing or just sitting around morosely As Schrock entered a knife whizzed past his head and thunked into the wall opposite. He didn't bother to duck, people never bothered to aim. Schrock knew the place never officially closed as such, it merely got quieter around dawn, the yellow rabbit that had hired them was serving at the bar, but as soon as they entered she removed her apron and tossed it to Erst. Schrock couldn't blame her, this place could grow on you, or at least it was damp enough to make something grow on you. He busied himself behind the bar, there was a surprising amount to be done, nobody seemed to have kept any records about anything, inventory, customers, payment, you name it. He'd even found an arm in a container of spirits on his first shift and he was quite sure there were many more such surprises lying around the place, probably deposited as payment for booze. At least he'd managed to clear a small corner of junk and assorted objects, if there was one thing Schrock liked it was a decent amount of order. If only the world took a bit of time to get itself organized, there'd be so much less trouble around the place than there was, that was his firm opinion. He looked briefly up from his sorting as the yellow rabbit entered, approached a pile of garbage and deftly removed a dusty jacket and backpack from it "No, no, doesn't make much difference, they look like small piles of compost whether or not you're wearing them. The rabbit didn't even flicker. "Yeah well some of us have so wear clothing and this is the best I can afford. My aunt moved to shellian solely so she could walk down the street nude." This gave Schrock pause for thought. "She moved there yet you can't afford clothing that's not sprouting weeds? How does that work? "Simple she went to carrotus castle and snuck jalapeño peppers into the queen's breakfast." "Ah." Schrock knew about the deportations, the rabbits dealt with their worst criminal elements by simply shipping them elsewhere. Or executing them. Those that were 'unpatriotic' were deported to shellion, apparently a very fitting destination. What happened of course was the creation of Rabbits Against Rabbits, or RAR, perhaps the only organization in existence whose members were all banned, according to their own charter, from joining. The rabbit stared at him for a while, as if trying to make up her mind about something. "You- your brother, the guy out front; what exactly is with him? The whole shell thing and all that? Major weird going on there." Schrock was quite surprised. "You noticed? I'll be; I didn't think any of the rabbits had picked it up. Yeah, you'll just have to put it down to him being a bit... odd. He tries his hardest, it's complicated." The rabbit nodded. "My brother eats q-tips, so I get your point. If you're going to be fiddling with stuff al day, try not to wake me up huh? I get too little sleep as it is." Schrock looked around. Ah yes, someone had stuffed a pile of blankets and a pillow into a corner, when really they should have had them quarantined and incinerated. The rabbit sniffed. "You really don't like this place do you? I can tell by the way you try to avoid touching things." "Yes, I want to live thankyou. Anyway, since we're going to be working together, and sharing living quarters it appears, just out of curiosity, what's your name? I mean, according to this lump of paperwork you don't even have a contract here." The yellow rabbit stiffened. "Yes, well, I'm the daughter of the proprietor, so you're not going to find any paperwork." Hmmm, procrastination, Schrock was interested. "And the name?" "Mumblemumble" "I'm sorry, didn't quite catch that." The rabbit practically growled the response. "Trixxie, its Trixie, short for Trixxibelle, you ever mention it again and so help me I'll cut out your tonge." "Hey, don't worry about it; you won't believe what my name means in shellian, some mothers must want revenge for all the crud we put them through. Suffice to say Erst was named after the shelian word for a hive of bees, and he got the better deal." Schrock sat back and tried to work out who R. and S. were, they were the only people mentioned on this payment slip. After a while he heard the sound of someone being strangled or drowning in cough syrup, eventually he realized it was snoring. Out front he could just discern Erst's ever cheerful voice as he handed out booze, accepted the occasional payment and dragged people outside when they couldn't stand anymore. For the first time since he'd arrived he felt he finally had someplace where he felt at home. It was musty, dark and fetid. It also had a rabbit in it, but hey, nothing's perfect. .
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Sep 15, 2006, 11:03 PM | |
A special short chapter for the admins, (WA)
Uhh.. 'cept you CT. Heh heh. [No hard feelings? Right? huh? Nooo! Not the face!] *Chapter 11: Best laid plans* Spaz moved at his usual pace down the hallway, that is, his body drifted along and his legs flailed about in all directions under him, making him look rather like some strange blimp. The fact that he had, on his shoulder a bird almost as large as he was only added to the effect. "Hiya Admiral um... Hi!" The admiral, who had been staring absent mindedly out of a window gave a sharp yell and jumped a foot in the air. "By the saints! Jackrabbit! Didn't your mother ever tell you not to sneak up on people? I nearly had a heart attack!" Spaz considered this, his mother had told him a lot of things, usually about staying away from sharp objects, or to go to his kennel for the afternoon. The admiral seemed to have something on his mind, he was trying to compose himself. "Did you happen to see Em- the Queen on your way up here? She's late." he twiddled his fingers nervously as Spaz hummed a short ditty under his breath and looked around vaugely for something to consume. Finally there was a dull rhythmic thudding that heralded the Queens appraoch long before the door of the hallway burst open, wrenched from its hinges and the royal rabbit strode in. The Queen looked about her in her usual manner, which was basically an utter disdain of anything and everything in the world, but especially those parts of it unfortunate enough to be rabbit shaped. "Well, at least you both showed up! Come on, we're late enough as it is. Spaz, I can trust you won't screw this up?" Spaz nodded eagerly and attempted a proud salute, which was rather something to see as his body was made naturally to slouch. The two rabbits followed the Queens lead to the waiting ship that would take them halfway across Carrotus. Halfway there they bumped into Lori, who had acquired a bandaged hand. Spaz had to balance himself as Kira let out a shriek and darted forward. Spaz watched as Lori darted rapidly across the courtyard. The Queen snorted "What on earth is the matter with that girl? Spaz, call that pet of yours back, I do not want it wandering around doing lord knows what!" Spaz called Kira back, she was always darting after small moving things, and she seemed awfully fond of Lori, it was a pity he had to go on a mission, those two would get along like a house on fire. But duty called, today was very important; the Queen planned to be out till nearly next morning, discussing all sort of.. of... Spaz paused in mid thought; he'd never actually been told what it was they'd be discussing, probably because it was secret and important. He realized he was standing alone, the Queen and admiral had moved off together toward the waiting craft. Drat! He was supposed to be the sole guard! Why couldn't people stay still and be guarded? The admiral paled as Spaz approached. "Are you sure about this? I know he's no Einstein, but he's bound to suspect something!" The Queen smiled. "Lets not have any of this Roland, we've got a day together and I can easily distract that red twit, what do you think the bird is for? Lets just try and enjoy this." The admiral continued fidgeting, this was incredibly risky, and he'd spent his life trying to avoid risks, it was how he'd managed to be both a member of the most aggressive and oft used army in the galaxy and middle aged. Eagles may soar, but weasels didn't get sucked into jet engines. [Wide attack removal. The admins are omnipresent. At times. - FQuist]
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(^.^) ((")(") Last edited by FQuist; Sep 16, 2006 at 04:58 AM. |
Sep 22, 2006, 07:19 PM | |
Can't take a joke eh FQ? I shall have to sneak more subtle attacks in then, ones so subtle nobody will be able to spot them. [And he won't tattle.]
*Chapter 12: Uncertainty* For the fifth time that morning a car drove slowly up the almost deserted road. It moved slowly, but managed to look as if it were on the prowl, and that it could move a hell of a lot faster if it wanted to. Finally, spotting what it wanted it eazed its way into the parking lot, slotted neatly into a park at the first try and immediately purred to a halt. To anyone watching it would have seemed as if the car owned the parking lot, and that anyone entering it had just hope that it didn't take a dislike to them. After a somewhat protracted pause, a rabbit emerged from the vehicle and made his way to the cafe opposite. He was built as sleekly as the car, and built was indeed the appropriate word, nothing natural could look that good. There was however the tiniest, almost undetectable reluctance about the rabbit's personage. Andrea looked up as the rabbit entered, another for the gathering at table three apparently, and a handsome one at that. Andrea realized she'd been tidying her hair subconsiously. The newcomer didn't even notice her and made his way to the table that was now almost entirely occupied. As he walked away she realized she was suddenly rather pekish. And yet, where she was sure she'd stacked a couple of preheated pies just a few miniutes ago there was nothing but empty benchtop. She checked the refigerator, nothing there either, even the cold store was empty. She'd been robbed. For a moment she stared at the group chatting aimlessly at the table, could they have...? No, there was no possible way... Andrea left the counter to report to the police. * * * Red stretched expansively causing the other group members to shift backwards somewhat uncomfortably, bringing a wry smile to her lips. "Right, so thats three, where's the other guy? Mr Impressive? The big man? The one I hear these stupid bunnies blather on about all the time? Huh! Typical management, all powerful blah blah blah and can't even turn up to breakfast in time!" She trailed off noticing the expressions on the faces of her compatriots. "He's right behind me isn't he?" She turned round, the air was reassuringly empty. When she turned back the seat opposite was occupied. He wasn't as she'd expected; she'd been hoping for something more impressive, a flowing black robe perhaps, or someone with cold evil eyes you just couldn't look into, something... something solid Instead she was facing... was facing... something. Addmittedly he was wearing black, but it was a dull black, like you'd find on an old grease rag. He wasn't particularly tall or particularly ominious, or particularly... anything Red struggled to make out his appearance, to find some definite feature she could describe, but failed totally. It figured of course, he was an absolute expert at blending into the foreground. She hated him already for it. "Okay, now we're all here we can get going! Lets blow this joint!" Red almost jumped out of her chair in eagerness, then was jerked back down by the grip of a small but firm hand. She turned to look at Sheldon who returned a sombre gaze. "Not yet, we've still got one more to wait for, patience, we've waited long enough for this day, a few more miniutes cannot hurt." She scowled "Oh God no?! Why can't we do this ourselves for once? Why do we need that dolt? What do they actually do? Sheldon tried reassurance. "Its just the way things are, nothing can actually stop this." Red scowled, screwing her face up like someone eating a pickled lemon "It is interfering! Why can't things be simple?" Larrock coughed nervously. "I-it? You mean its trying to stop this?" There was a definite quaver in his voice. Red stared at him. "Brother, are you not feeling well? You certainly don't seem to be especially eager about our great work ahead..." Larrock almost chocked "No! no! I- I'm just not feeling to well. I mean, why are we doing this? When it really comes down to it?" The group stared at him in amazement until he sank into his seat with an apologetic expression. "What kind of stupid question is that? That sod had better turn up soon or there's going to be troubble!" .
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Oct 13, 2006, 07:25 PM | |
Hmmn, the server won't let me post anything near a long reply; I am going to try anyway.
*Chapter 13: Luck* Schrock looked up, then around then finally realized the clock in the corner suggesting it was sometime near 4am probably wasn't working that well. He paused in his almost endless task of cataloguing things for a midmorning snack. He'd brought an asparagus and watercress sandwich; it had taken him ages to find fresh asparagus here, and he'd had to get the cress from out of a ditch, but good food was good food. It was while he was about halfway through it that Erst appeared, lugging various small and large items. For some reason people liked to pay him, or at least give him stuff so he'd go away. He was smiling even more hugely than usual. "Look at all this neat stuff we got for accounts! And you know the best bit? I got given this as a tip! Schrock glanced at what Erst was holding. As it turned out it was a rather impressive sword. Schrock hated it instantly; there were some things that looked larger than life, and they were usually useless, dangerous or both. This sword was like that; the blade was unblemished steel but shone like a beam of solidified light. He could see the wicked edge and decorated pommel without a second glance. He shuddered inwardly and went to snatch it off Erst. "OW!" "Gosh, that’s sharp! We'd better be careful with it." Scrock sat nursing his cut hand whilst Erst carefully stood it in the far corner of the room. Scrock gave it a glance of sheer ice cold malice; he could've sworn he hadn't touched the blade when it lashed out at him. "Erst, who the hell gave you this? It looks like it cost a fortune. First thing we do is pawn it for some real cash; maybe then we'll be able to stay somewhere decent in this dump." There was an audible 'Oomf' as Erst sat down heavily on some miscellaneous junk, some unsorted pay sheet, a few blankets and Trixi; neither of them noticed this. * * * The entity scowled, or would have if it had had a face. What actually happened was a harsh burst of x-rays that knocked out three satellites orbiting in geosynchronous orbit around Carrotus. [This was explained at the time as a solar flare] At least now it had arrived; it lay around the planet like an invisible fog. Now that it was occupying this set of dimensions, and now that it was so close, it could hear, feel the millions of tiny lives below it. Most of them were nothing, a mere whisper against the world, but together they flowed together, along with the few bright spots it had chosen, all rushing as one according to plan. Except for that (-) turtle; he was a poison to stories and would have to be dealt with, a real pity too, it had had such a lovely place for him. It made what was not a movement, but more an effort. The thread twisted; now that it was coming together it had some real power, even so the actual efects it could muster were minimal. Three people mysteriously found themselves deciding that their lunch was over and they'd had enough. So they left early. And met other people, who then didn't visit that shop in town, and... The effect spread like a subtle ripple in spacetime, curved, and aimed at its target...
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nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") Last edited by Doubble Dutch; Oct 14, 2006 at 07:50 PM. Reason: Attempt at fixing |
Oct 14, 2006, 02:16 AM | |
This story is as good as mine! Even better I may add! You are quite talented!
Keep up the good work! This story...is greatness... ALL HAIL DOUBBLE DUTCH!
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The War Tavern is good. The War Tavern is great. Surrender yourself to it at all haste. Heh. |
Oct 14, 2006, 09:24 AM | |
Message from DD!
She says that she can't post for some strange reason, so she'll post as soon as she finds out what's wrong. |
Oct 17, 2006, 09:27 AM | |
Apparently the board won't let people quick reply more than a certain number of times per page, which, when you think about it makes sense.
Everyone will have to reread chapter 13 as I managed to fix it, and now it's much longer. *Chapter 14: Arrival* The sun was halfway up the sky, but here the airs was still cold and crisp; on the shady side of rocks were little mounds of snow and in places where the shadows stayed, away from the sun, there were icicles and snowdrifts. The streams ran with the promise, if not of ice, then of hypothermia. This was the high mountains; and they straddled the skyline like a series of large stone dominoes, immovable and ancient, sharp against the sky. The landscape curled downward from them, into lush valleys full of forests and meadows; from this vantage point it was as if you could see the whole world, spread out below like some glorious tapestry, basking in the heat of summer, bathing in the brisk promise of a new day. Spaz looked at the view and yawned; at first it was entrancing, after an hour, amazing, two hours interesting, after three hours he had a look, now he was bored out of his skull. Apparently he had the whole day to sit here and stand guard, but there was nothing much left to do; he'd tried throwing snowballs at Kira, but it's hard to hit someone perched on your shoulders, and after a while she ate them. He'd already run through the sandwiches he'd packed, and a rather conspicuous and multicolored pile of feathers hinted that both he and Kira had managed to waste an hour or so tracking down numerous snacks, which had rather depleted the local birdlife; that which hadn't left at the appearance of the Goshawk had rather rapidly been plucked in mid-flight. But there was nothing left to do! And he had to stay put; it was very important; he'd been given strict instructions and this was a matter of national, nay, planetary security. He sat down and twiddled his finger, then toes, then ears. He sighed and looked at the view again, still majestic. On the other hand; nobody would notice he was gone, would they? The Queen and Admiral hadn't emerged from their cabin all day. Deep down Spaz felt sorry for him; even five minutes with the Queen was enough to make most people crack. Well, that was settled then; nobody would notice if he went off for a brisk stroll, not too far away of course, merely to scout out the local terrain, in case it harbored enemy forces or unclaimed snacks. With a brief whoop of joy, Spaz tumbled down the nearest hillside. He came to a stop about a minute later. * * * It was almost midday when the lone character plodded sedately up the winding road toward the cafe, dragging their feet and mumbling to themselves all the while. Vernon stared at the three police ships outside, barely acknowledging their existence; he was already distracted almost to the point of walking into stationary objects. Inside about a dozen officers were clustered around a table, attempting to interview the occupants all at once. Vernon remembered his time in the Carrotus civil defense; there had never been much to do, even when there was a war on; what the police had t go through was probably solid paperwork from one donut break to the next. Still, he was here and this was the time, and those were the people, so he'd better not wait for everyone to be finished. He strode over to the group at the table; even before he'd entered the room all their eyes had been fixed upon him. Red beamed as Vernon approached and took an officer's chair without asking. "About bloody time to! What the hell kept you? (-)! Lets blow this joint!" An officer stood up and put a hand on her shoulder. "Uh... Mam, there's still the matter of- hnnk!" He fell backwards slowly, like a felled tree, not bending at the knees, or slumping, just falling over in one smooth movement. His compatriots reached for their weapons, but somehow one must have caught in a piece of fabric, as it went off, rather messily removing the face of the officer in front of it. After that things moved in a blur; the officers backed away, drew weapons and somehow managed to trip over, one shot himself in the chest, another fell over a chair and didn't move after that, red dealt with the other four with one smooth sweep. There was almost utter silence, followed by the sound of running footsteps as the cafe owner fled to the strong room out back, probably to call for backup. Red wiped the blood off her blade with the hem of her top, briefly treating the room to a sight many rabbits went to sleazy bars and paid good money for. Nobody noticed much except for Larrock, who had an expression of fascinated horror on his face. All six figures were standing now looking resolutely to the east. Wit was the first to speak 'Aah, its a great day for it; we've been away too long." Red snorted "To f(-) with the small talk, lets ride!" Outside the cafe were five hoverboards. They had not been there that morning; each was different and had a sleek, purposeful air to it, like a freshly polished shotgun. They seemed to purr without making a sound, almost sparking with a buildup of potential. Overhead a fresh wind brought clouds to the formerly blue sky. They rushed overhead like a white river, steadily turning toward grey, darkening the world below and bringing an almost palatable chill tot he air. A storm was on the way. .
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Oct 25, 2006, 07:14 AM | |
Gosh, I'm going to have to speed up posting if I want to get this all done before I leave. Oh well, just a small one today, larger ones to come!
*Chapter 15: Above it all* Captain-Luteniant Will DeSchmitt awoke to a sharp prod in the stomach. Standing over him was Captain Barnes, with his usual expression of scorn and contempt. "Sleeping on the job again are we? What if those (-) reptiles were to mount an invasion hmmn? Would we have to explain to the Queen that the reason she was now in a slave camp was because one of our officers wanted a brief kip?" Will scowled "Oh come off it captain, nothing ever happens here, in case you don't remember, the war is over. We won, I think." "Aye! But you can't trust those (-)ed shells; you know as well as I do that there are still pockets of resistance! The fact that they won't accept benevolent Rabbit rules just goes to show how ignorant they are." Will decided not to get into another argument; the Captain was a devout royalist and imperialist who could yell loud enough to be heard halfway across the ship, even when the engines were at full power. He changed the subject before he got another lecture. "But sir, surely the first thing the radar and scanner screens will do when they detect something is to bleep sir. It’s what they're designed to do. Its quite loud, and I assure you it has a sufficient awakening capability." "Nevertheless, we must remain eternally vigilant!" Will sighed and went back to examining the screens. Purgatory would be like this; it was after all, where all the inept, stupid, dangerous or unlucky officers were sent. He himself was only here because the Field Marshall had conducted a surprise debriefing at the same time his daughter was... on the base. It was slightly worrying that all of Carrotus' orbital defenses were under the control of people you normally wouldn't give metal cutlery; but on the other hand the actual amount of power they had was deceptively little, they would warn of an attack, notify the proper authorities who would then go about doing the actual defending, or, as was increasingly the case with the bored and underutilized army, offending. *bleep-bleep!* Blast! Notify...scan...right. Another bloody asteroid. Will went back to his chartroom. It was of course one of only 14 the system's computers would allow past the firewall, but even an online discussion of stamp collecting was edge-of-your-seat excitement compared to an average day on the orbital station. .
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Oct 26, 2006, 08:06 PM | |
I have therapy over summer, remember?
*Chapter 16: Divisions* Red hopped onto her hoverboard and felt it take her weight easily, but then again it would have taken a truck full of lead piping with just as little protest. Her compatriots were already astride theirs, except for... "Hey! Lar'! You gonna waste the whole day or what? Get your rear into gear, we've got a job to do here!" Larrock was staring at his hoverboard as if it was some sort of three eyed blob that had materialized in his living room. The rest of the group stared at him impatiently, except for Vernon who wore his usual worried frown. After a pause just short enough to avoid someone else butting in Larrock spoke. "I... I'm not going." The rest of the group didn't appear to hear this, he may as well have said he was going to sprout wings and fly. He tried again. "I'm not going to do this, you can't make me go through with it, you'll have to go on without me." This time they heard him, there was an ominous silence, not threatening exactly, but once the novelty wore off somebody was going to pay. Red looked at him in the way you would stare at someone in a superman costume standing at the edge of a cliff. "Not going? You can't just not go! We've always gone out! The four of us! Time and time again!" By the end of the sentence her voice was a mixture of disbelief and anger. Larrock backed up under the heat of her glare, trying not to meet anyone's eyes. "I... I don't care, I like things the way they are, I don't see why they have to change I-" It was a silent blast, a beam of negative lightning that caused the entire parking lot to darken momentarily. When the light flooded back Larrock was crumpled in a heap surrounded by charred and smoldering asphalt. Wit prodded the body with his foot. "Told ya he spent too much time down here, he's gone native." Red scowled "Well now what? We can't do anything without him now! Thanks a lot big guy! We could've at least threatened him into going!" "Incorrect. We do not require him, we will continue, assumption will take his place." Sheldon stared at the robed figure and beamed. "Yes! I knew I'd be going places with this crowd! How’s that Red? we're finally team mates!" Red smiled wanly as Sheldon jumped onto his hoverboard and kicked the now unneeded spare one into the bushes. Moments later the group was zooming down the road at high speed. * * * Schrock opened the door and stepped out into the alleyway, it was greasy, dimly lit and full of junk, all in all, if it weren't for the lack of roof, he wouldn't be able to tell if he were outside or not. He was dying for a cigarette. He reached into his shell and removed the packet of tobacco from the spot just behind his neck where he kept it, took out a pinch, and ate it. It wasn't good for him of course, you'd probbably get throat cancer or something, but then again people did dangerous things like skydive for a little fun too, and what was perfect health except the slowest possible way to die? He heard the blow coming just seconds before it smashed into his shell knocking him flat. There was a growl from somewhere above him and a familiar voice said "I don't like to be made fun of shell rat!" Schrock managed to turn himself around to see three rather large and ugly rabbits [even by rabbit standards] standing over him. One of them was the one he had bumped into that morning. All three were brandishing rather old, rather ilegal, but definitely rather lethal plasma pulse blasters. They also appeared to be in various states of insobriety, which lent a menacing edge to one of them pointing the weapon at his head. There was a click and a swish and the alleyway filled with yells. .
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Oct 28, 2006, 08:12 AM | |
It seems strange to me that we reply so easily to stupid little threads such as 'the stupid game' yet LMATs and stories are left to languish and moulder. Human nature I guess.
__________________
nonne amicus certus in re incerta cernitur? /)_/)
(^.^) ((")(") |
Oct 28, 2006, 07:14 PM | |
I think you don't get many posts on this thread because people are afraid of spamming you. >_>
Or maybe not. I really can't speak for everyone, now can I? >.< Never-the-less, this story rocks! Please keep it up! ^_^ |
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