An Experiment......

***Just an experiment for a story Idea I've been brewing. It's sort of a weird idea where It's one of those "save the world" sort of stories, but not told from the perspective of the guy who actually has to DO IT. It would sort of be like reading Harry Potter if we saw it from Ron's Perspective.***

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It's one thing to have to save the world. It's another to know that the world needs saving, and know that you're not the one who's supposed to do it. Where one man feels the crushing weight of the world on their shoulders, the other has to watch it and hope the hero doesn't slip and let your world tumble away. It's the difference between feeling like you're not powerful enough, and not powerful at all.

What makes it worse was, in this case, our hero wasn't even human. He wasn't a shining knight in silver armor. Most people would think he was a monster. In some ways, they'd be right.


It was summer, 5 years ago. Things were good in the world, more or less. I had a good life, for what it was worth. I was an orphan, taken in by an old lady everybody called Nana. Nana loved all the kids she took in. She took good care of us, and we helped her out as best we could. But, eventually, I got older and it was time for me to leave. The village was just a few miles out from the local town, and I was going to find myself a trade. I was walking the dirt road, about a mile away from my destination, when I ran into him for the first time.

Lilitheans are a very tall people. Very scary looking if you've never seen one before. I'd seen one or two, but they were still frightening. Your average Lilithean was easily 9 feet tall, bound in armor plating, and had the kind of face that would make a even a dragon think twice. Strange thing was, Lilitheans couldn't speak. They all carried a peice of slate and a peice of chalk with them so they could write things to you. It was how they communicated with the outside world.

So, this giant, scary, mute beast comes crashing out of the trees, covered in blood and fighting what looks like another Lilithean. As you can probably guess, I immediately began to cower like a scared rabbit. If I were to fight a Lilithean at that point, it would be a very short, unfortunate fight for me.

The two Lilitheans were beating eachother with fists, clawing with open hands, grabbing kicking, biting, whatever they could do to hurt the other. Our hero managed to get a good grip on his opponent's head, and quickly put an end to matters.

He stood. And looked my way. He pulled out his sign, wrote very carefully, and turned it....

I am sorry for scaring you.

I was somewhat dumbfounded. "Was that...a Lilithean?"
Something about the body didn't look right...It was pasty and white, and it had no eyes. Just a big mouth and a big tongue that seemed to be sneering even in death.

He stared at me for what felt like a long time, then wrote again.

Ave Neco

"I don't know what that is...." I mumbled. He seemed to know that already. I decided it would be wise to make friends with such a fellow...all things considered.
"My name is Sam. What's yours?"
He stared at me again, and wrote carefully.

Lilith.

I didn't know it yet...but Lilith was going to save the world. He was going to save a world populated almost entirely by humans. He was going to save a world that would have, until now, never known about it.

And he was going to die doing it.



***DUN DUN DUUUUUN!!! That's right. I want to spoil it right at the start. And hopefully, still have people sad at the end....maybe. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINKS!!!***

SINGULAR NATHAN

PHEER MY POWER

not really.

I made meself a new blog, and already did some stuff on it. here's the link:
http://singular-nathan.blogspot.com/

I'll be putting it other places soon, too. so yay.

see you guys later!!

Kinetic Assault Engine

The fight had been trudging on for several hours. the heart of the city was ablaze with gunfire.

That's where we were. War hadn't changed with the dawn of the H.A.M.M.E.R. System to destroy ballistic missles. It just kept it on even terms for everyone. Nobody wanted to take it down. It would leave them just as exposed as everybody else. Nobody liked the thought of nuclear bombs raining on their rooftops. That was good. It just made the military scientists get...creative.

When my dad was a kid, Mechs were the stuff of movies, cartoons, and videogames. Now they were real, powered by a modified version of Kinetic energy recently discovered by Republic scientists.

I should probably mention the civil war that split the U.S. into several nations. The Republic of Texas is the largest, and I happen to be on their side. The Republic of California has been testing our borders lately and actually had the nerve to invade one of our cities.

It was a bad move.

I'm a mech pilot. Unit 03 of Kinetic Assault Engine Division, Squad 2. Codename Shade. And yes, my baby is black.

I pressed my back against a building, and felt my hands involuntarily grip the rifle tighter. There are no controls in a KAE. The pilot's brain is directly linked to the cybermuscles and nerves in the KAE, or as we call them, Runners. Everything we want done, the Runner does. Everything the Runner feels, we feel. The pain sucks, but it makes your reaction time better, once you're used to it.

A few rounds clipped off the corner, splashing me with concrete. That didn't feel pleasant. I whipped around the corner and popped off a shot. the enemy Walker took my round square to the face a dropped like a rock, spewing Flex Gel all over its companions. It varied in color from Mech to Mech, but it was always gross stuff, but it helped you keep moving.

As I resumed my position, I got a call over the Com system.
"Nice shot, Shade. Now look at this."

"I'm kind of pinned down right now, Redeye. I can't look."

"Skim across the street when I give the word."

"We're not supposed to do that until we have to." I wanted to.

"I won't tell if you don't....Go.....NOW."

I launched myself across the street with a K-pulse. Halfway through, a looked up at the enemy position. Right as I looked, the air near my head exploded as a Magnesium round streaked by and tore the upper half of a Walker off, sending Flex Gel spraying into the air like a fountain while molten metal dripped to the ground.

As soon as by back hit the opposite building I started breathing again.
"You're lucky I trust you. Now move positions before they drop an artillery round on your head. I'm sure that was called in."

"Already on it."

Redeye was cocky, but he was a good shot with the Gauss Rifle. It had a maximum Range of 20 miles, and automatically compensated for gravity and curvature of the earth. Just aim and fire. Of course, Redeye was a maverick and would always get really close so he could see the hit. He once snuck behind enemy lines for half an hour so that he could shoot the commanding Walker in the head at point blank range. It was stupid, and it almost got him killed, but it scared the Californians so bad that they surrendered right there.

Nutjob...

I popped off another shot to finish off the last Walker holding the line and ran forward to regroup with the rest of the squad. I grabbed a Ballistics sheild that was laying on the ground near the downed Walkers for my own collection. It was black, so it matched.

I was about to keep moving when I heard the groan of machinery and turned to see a Walker with hands raised above its head. I swore and dropped to a knee, ejecting my Quicknife out of my wrist and into its torso. It gave me just enough time to grip the handle and tear upwards. I got deep purple flexgel in my left eye...well, the Runner's left eye, but who cares?

It was still mostly functional so I jammed my rifle under its chin and fired two rounds before it could shove me off.

Drenched in Flex Gel and getting tired, I trudged further into enemy lines, where the rest of my squad awaited.

Dark Sun (part 2)

T'kah landed on the dune with a small sound and a sudden puff of sandy dust. His mandibles scraped and skittered as he surveyed the canyon below. At the end of the canyon was Cailium, in a secluded spot protected from the harsh times of the Glassing, when the twin suns scorched the sands of the Wastes, and turned the worst areas into vast, deadly plains of shimmering glass. They were beautiful, but impossible to survive, even for the Desert Children.

Kaiden crested the dune alongside T'kah and looked out over the canyon.
"Well," he spoke as he adjusted his robes, "at least its in the shade now."

T'kah glanced in his direction and nodded. "Indeed. But there are other dangers in the Maw Of The Earth."

"Of course. The Sand Fish." Kaiden said, the image appearing in his mind of a large and plated animal the size of a man with massive bladed scoops for front paws and a mouth big enough to eat you whole without chewing. The only warning was a thin sliver of plating coming out of the sand. But by then it was almost too late.

The Second Sun was low on the horizon. Only about 12 hours left until the period of the Dark Sun, or No Sun. When the Darksun reigned in the skies, black and shining.

Kaiden shook himself and began to walk again, his slim Chatka staff-blade digging into the sand. Being a human, Kaiden could only carry one. But T'kah, with his four arms, could carry two at a time. They were crossed over his back at the moment.

T'kah's antannae twiched and prodded the air for smells. "The Sand Fish have made a kill. We should be safe for the next few hours while they eat."

"What was it?" Kaiden asked, purely out of curiosity.

"T'kammahn." T'kah said.

"Great Tortoise." Kaiden echoed. Massive beasts, with large boulders growing from their shelled backs. The Sand Fish were the only creatures that could bring one down and eat it. Houses were sometimes made from the cleaned-out shells of the beasts.

They walked on.

Several hours passed in the Maw, called so because of the massive drooping overhangs that loomed like teeth. Occasionally a trickle of precious water would be heard, leading to a breif stop to partake of the drippings of the Maw.

It was darker in the Maw, but not difficult to see. The Shade and walls brought repreive from the harsh heat and constant sand and wind. Kaiden removed his shawl and visor, and gazed out at the walls with emerald eyes. T'kah had no need for a shawl. He nibbled lazily at one of his claws, scraping for bits of edibles that might have gotten stuck.

Kaiden shook some sand out of his black hair and slung his shawl over his shoulder.

They walked on.

Kaiden could see the Ivory walls of Cailium ahead.

He was about to run to them when T'kah stopped and held up a claw.
"Sand Fish." he said quietly.

A thin sliver of plating rose from the sand between them and Cailium.

Darkness was slipping over the Canyon. Within a few minutes it would be nearly impossible to see, and time would be up.

They had no choice.

Kaiden ran as fast as he could towards the fin, and threw himself to the side when a giant mouth crashed out of the sand with a cloud of sandy grit. He heard a startled grunt and a breif screech as the Sand Fish found itself with a mouth full of Chatka blade. T'kah hissed at the beast and commanded Kaiden to run.

"No, I can't!"

"I will slay the beast, and meet you in the city. Go!"

Kaiden ran as fast as he could. The sounds of pitched battle between two feirce hunters fell upon his ears almost as loudly as his struggled breathing.

T'kah dug his clawed feet deep into the belly of the Sand Fish as it screeched at him in pain and rage. His Chatka fell upon it with life-ending accuracy. He looked up to see the doors begin to close. This would be a close one. He offered a small prayer for the lost hunter, and leapt.

As Kaiden crossed into the safety of Cailium, he stumbled and fell.
He coughed for several moments before he looked up into a familiar, if bloodied, face.

"Good running." T'kah said as he lifted Kaiden with one pair of arms and put his Chatka away with the other. "Your test is passed...now then....I want some water."

Dark Sun pt-1

(A little bit of a teaser for an upcoming Idea. If you like what you see so far, I might expand.)

The plains burned under the heat of the Second Sunrise. Kaiden pulled his shawl closer around his face to keep the sand out. He glared out through the thin hole covered in darkened glass.

This area of the dunes had been pounded hard by many feet traveling to and from the cities. Kaiden himself was traveling to Cailium. The extra layers over his mouth were beginning to fail, and the air he was breathing began to take on the dusty smell of sand. The sand was not dangerous in itself, but its slow grinding of the airways could make a man miserable, and lead to worse problems.

Kaiden had to get to Cailium before Second Sunfall or he would find himself shut out of the City for the whole of No Sun. 48 hours of starlit darkness, when the wastes finally cooled, but became chilled and remained waterless. Kaiden would die if he failed to arrive in time.

A sharp a shrill Clicking and whistling to his side indicated to him that his companion had noticed something.

T'kah was a full head and shoulders taller than Kaiden, and was one of the Thri-Kreen. The Desert Children, or Mantis-Folk. The upper right of his four clawed arms twiched irritably as he stared into the dunes.

"What do you see, T'kah?" Kaiden asked, not slowing.

T'Kah turned his ebony eyes to Kaiden and sighed. "Mirage. Even Thri-Kreen long for water after so long in the desert."

"You can go ahead to fetch some if you would like, T'kah. I can take care of myself."

"No, Kaiden. I will stay with my friend on his trail of hardship."

"You wouldn't have to go forever, just long enough to get some water and bring it back."

"Ah, but it would detract from the test, would it not?"

Kaiden sighed. It was going to be a long walk.

Carnivale

(This is a little character I've been bouncing around in my head. Lets see what you guys think.)


The masquerade was going wonderfully!
Mr. Edward Tillman's estate was bustling with guests, the wine was flowing, the laughter was booming, colors and masks danced in crazed circles through the air.

Mr. Tillman had just made another small fortune in investments. Chalk it up to luck that the poor little family had up and dissapeared, and their will for the property never recovered.
As long as the wine flowed, and the music played, nobody asked how. Nobody cared.

Except for one man.

Amongst all of the hustle, and all of the bustle, and all of the red and blue and gold and silver, there was a cloak of simple, elegant velvet. It was black like midnight, and seemed to move unhindered through the crowd, despite the flying legs, swinging arms, and drunkenly oblivious heads which should have collided with it.

Atop the cloak was a simple, black, tricorn hat. three points that formed a sort of arrow straight into the heart of the party.

Straight at Mr. Tillman.

Between the hat and the hooded cloak was an ivory mask. Like everything about this figure, it was simple and elegant. It would have borne a permanent half-smile if there were anything of a mouth, but all that it did was come down to a simple, elegant point. The mask was supposedly symbolic of Casanova. A man who was not simple, but elegant.

"Mr. Tillman!" came the voice behind the mask as it wheeled the bearded man around.

Mr. Tillman's mask had a long, crooked nose, and was adorned in blue and red and gold. His cloak was scarlet with golden trim. It was most expensive. It almost put Mr. Tillman's various imported cars to shame.

Almost.

Mr. Tillman, slightly drunkened by wine, tried to focus on the guest in front of him.
"And you would be?" he yelled over the dull roar of the party.

The figure leaned in close, so that the conversation was private.

"You could say that I am a debt collector." the mask said.

Mr. Tillman laughed, merry with wine and willing to joke. "Debt? I have no debt, my boy!"

The mask returned the laugh, hollow and chilling. "My dear friend," he said, in the way one says friend right before they become very unfriendly, "you have no debt in money. You, sir, owe a debt to a family of four that is lying face down in the bottom of the creek that runs under Downey Bridge, just five blocks south of the intersection of Wallace and Turnwood, which happens to be where a new apartment complex is being built. And I, Mr. Tillman, come to you as one business man to the next."

Mr. Tillman was no longer drunk. Mr. Tillman was stone sober. Mr. Tillman was not jolly.
Mr. Tillman was trying not to scream.
The mask knew everything.

"I can pay you!" Mr. Tillman stammered.

"Mr. Tillman, you indeed CAN pay me. I've actually come to collect my payment. Conducting some business if you will."

"Blackmailing me, are you?" Mr. Tillman said, trying to work up a good rage.

"Mr. Tillman, the media already knows. I've already given them the lead, the sources, and they will arrive shortly. I am a business man, Mr. Tillman. Surely you understand, I do what I must to be successful in my business, just like you, Mr. Tillman."

Mr. Tillman never had a chance to scream for help. The blade was sharp, the mask's aim was true. It looked like nothing more than a friendly embrace. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Tillman!" the mask said with cheer as it's gloved had moved the bloodied blade back into its cloak.

The way Mr. Tillman collapsed was simple, and elegant.


Howard, in his silver suit and basic, golden mask, didn't seem to take notice. He simply sipped his champagne one more time, and left. His friends said that they would see him at the country club tommorow, and he said that he might be late.

He had laundry to do.

The mask glided through the party once again, and stepped outside. The mask and cloak and hat stared into the simple, elegant sky. The moon stared back. The cloak and mask seemed to sigh, went rigid, and collapsed into nothing but a pile of discarded costume, waiting for the next act.

Atop was the blade, and a card:
"Carnivale"

Xerxes

(This has really become a Redeye Jack blog, hasn't it? Well, here's another installment.)


Jack glared into green eyes. The man who bore them held a knife lazily. He gazed at Jack with a smirk. Another cathedral. Always a cathedral. It was, in fact, the same cathedral as last time. The rosary window was still blown out, and most of the roof was missing. Snow was blowing into the burnt-up attic. Jack had just fought his way up three flights of stairs. He had watched the woman he loved get shot in the back. He had felt her die in his arms. He had heard her last words to him.

Jack's hand clenched on the handle of his revolver.
"One bullet left..." he said.

Xerxes' smirk turned into a grin. "One knife left."
The edge gleamed in the dawn sunlight peeking through the remains of the window.

Jack's glare intensified. "You ordered them to kill her, didn't you?"

Xerxes' grin only widened. "Both of you, actually. But I like that you survived. Makes the whole thing a bit more dramatic, does it not?"

"I hope you rot in hell." Jack growled.

"You can go ahead. I'll catch up later...but before I go, why did you leave us? Red Dragon, I mean?"

Jack spat. "Because I was sick of killing people. I was sick of it then, and I'm sick of it now. But I've got one last bullet, and I'm not gonna waste it."

"Very well then." Xerxes twitched.

a movement of muscle.
A glint of steel.
A flash of light.
Bang.
Blood and smoke.

Jack grunted as the knife cut his shoulder, deep into the muscular tissue. He was already beaten and bloodied, and this wasn't helping.

Xerxes was just grinning, a bullet hole in the wall next to his ear.
"You missed." He mocked.
"Oh, and Jack?"

Jack's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I lied."

There was a whistle as a second knife sliced through the air. It buried itself in Jack's chest.

He collapsed and fell backward.

Xerxes stood over him as he struggled for breath, his vision blurring and doubling erraticaly.

Xerxes leaned down and grinned in his face. "So sorry, Jack. But business is business."

"It's alright, Xerxes...." Jack whispered.

"Really now?" Xerxes mused.

"Yeah....I lied, too."

Bang.