Before reading, please read the post below this one.
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Lise and Treyle had luck on their side. For one, they ran fast enough to get to the station at exactly 7:35, the departure time. Also, the lady driving the tram, who had seen them, was nice enough to wait for them instead of leaving at the appointed time. After getting a short lecture from the driver, the twins chanced upon some vacant seats in the last car, after two other girls kindly made room for them. As soon as they sat down, the tram left the station.
After sitting down, they took their time admiring the campus speeding past them. However, this tranquil moment did not last long, as they realized that their fight was not yet over. Lise fired the first shot.
"See, if you had woken up a little earlier, we wouldn't have had to rush to the station like that. We would have been on time."
"Hey, at least we got on!"
"It was a lucky break. We wouldn't have needed it if you weren't so careless."
"Whatever. Besides, you could have started cooking, then gone to wake me up. If you had taken the time to think a little, then we wouldn't have had problems, either."
"Sorry for being responsible! Not everyone has the time to think like you do. Especially when you're too lazy or you're not around, I have to make choices for you. Seriously, you need to be a little more-"
"A little more what? Like a prude? Bah, no one likes you because you think everyone should be a little do-gooder like you are. You're so high-strung, it's no wonder you don't have a boyfriend."
"Hmph. At least I'm not willing to jump at the first piece of scum that says your name!"
To some degree, both of them were right. Despite them being identical twins, Lise and Treyle were almost polar opposites. Lise was indeed a prude, but for good reason. With both of their parents out of their lives, Lise (being older) was in charge of taking care of her sister. Unfortunately, Treyle's lackadaisical attitude towards just about everything turned her older sister into the busybody she was now. And due to the focus she spent on keeping them together, Lise didn't get a grasp on education like her sister did. On the other hand, since her sister was looking over her, Treyle was allowed more time to focus on school and education, and also the opportunity to grow infinitely lazy. Because of this, she was one of the best student-athletes in her grade. Nevertheless, she wasn't perfect at everything. With Lise taking care of household chores, Treyle never learned to be self-sufficient or responsible. She dated almost any guy who asked, only to break off in less than a week because of dissatisfaction.
It took some time, but the twins finally realized how much noise they were making. They were about to apologize to the others, but by this time, their car, as well as the others, had been traumatized out of the general quiet into a center of conversations. With their bickering over, Lise and Treyle turned their attentions to the latest news and gossip.
When the tram arrived at the north lot of the Academy complex, Lise and Treyle got off only to find a large crowd of schoolgirls trying to push their way towards the center of the mass. Lise noticed that there were onlookers to the scene, so she went up to one of them.
"What's going on here?"
"I'm not really sure, but some girl found something on the ground and called her friends over. Soon enough, it turned out like this."
"And do you know what she found?"
"Nope. But whatever it is, it must be interesting."
"Ah, well. It doesn't concern us. Come on, Treyle..... Treyle? Where are you?"
Lise hadn't noticed, but as soon as they saw the gathering, Treyle ventured off to see what was worth all the fuss. Not caring about the other girls, she callously flipped skirts and violated the limits of privacy to get to the center of the attention. As she blazed forward, Treyle noticed that the girls were quieter closer to the center. Straining their necks, they were trying to see or hear whatever was causing all of this.
Finally, Treyle forced herself into the innermost ring of the mob but what she was dumbfounded at what she saw, or rather, what she didn't see. There was nothing in sight. But there was sound. Clearly audible, as if the source of it was right in front of her.
---Start---
'...And I'm telling you, he's only a child! He couldn't have possibly have-'
'Oh, he has. And he will. He's a born killer.'
'But-'
'But what? Are you saying what is before your eyes isn't real? That he efficiently and effectively slaughtered fellow humans in cold blood?'
'Surely someone-'
'He has no friends. He has no guardians. He has no family. He has no heart. He's perfect.'
'He's only a child, sir.'
'A child who singlehandedly stopped an invading army with limited supplies for TWO weeks until evac. A child who's outdone all of our greatest strategists and tacticians. A child with the greatest potential to become the most powerful weapon in this world's arsenal. He's a genius. He's made for THIS.'
'Sir, I must deeply obj-'
'Quiet, Lieutenant. I'll hear no more of this subject from you or your subordinates. I may not like this, either, but I am in no position to complain. And if I'm not, neither are you. Am I clear?'
'I understand, sir. I'll speak no more of this.'
'Good. You are dismissed.'
'Thank you, sir..... Oh! And sir?'
'What is it?'
'I'm glad I'm not one of your heartless superiors.'
'I'm glad I'm not, either. I just hope they won't destroy the poor boy.'
---End---
The audio then repeated again. Still puzzled by this mystery, Treyle went ahead and tried searching for the source of the sounds. Like the others around her, she first tried feeling the airspace where it was coming from for some sort of transparent device, but there was none. Then, she felt the ground for some sort of hole or perforation where sound could come through, but it was uncontestably solid concrete. Frustrated, Treyle did not give in and continued searching.
Lise finally managed to politely make her way towards where Treyle was. Seeing her sister on the ground, she became worried, so she had to ask.
"Treyle?"
"Yeah?" she responded while not abandoning her search.
"What are you doing on the ground?"
"Searching, obviously."
"For what?" Lise was not paying attention to the sound coming from the center.
"Hidden mikes or something."
"Hidden what? Nevermind that, we gotta go."
"Go where? The opening ceremonies don't start for another fifteen minutes."
"There was an announcement just now. Before the ceremonies, there's a special event happening."
Disappointed that she could not continue her search, Treyle joined Lise and the other girls as they reluctantly headed towards the Academy. Treyle was still not satisfied with what she had discovered, for it had only brought up questions she could not answer. However, she was happy that something like this happened. 'This year's going to be interesting, I know it,' Treyle thought giddily. Lise noticed her sister's glee.
"What's wrong?"
"Hehehe... nothing."
"Seriously, you've never been this silently happy about anything."
"It's nothing, really.""Come on, spit it out."
"Nope!"
They and the other girls headed towards the indoor auditorium for the announcement of their lives.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Move
http://flashtirade.deviantart.com/
Yes, this is the new location.
Because of complications with certain programs, I have been posting all new entries at this site. I'll try and update this one for as long as I can.
Yes, this is the new location.
Because of complications with certain programs, I have been posting all new entries at this site. I'll try and update this one for as long as I can.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Umbra, Part I
- You've contacted Siren Command using the emergency line. What's the situation? Over.
- Sir! ....... reinforcements ha- ... rushed ... -llied lines! All un- ....... heavy dam- ........ completely destroyed. W- ............ back! Ov-..
- There's interference on your line. What is going on there? Over.
- ....... -my has depl- ... eral jammers. Th- prevent all comm- ......... -ing through. T-
[An explosion]
- Report, soldier!
- They'v- ............. artillery strik-.............. -osition! Ever-........ -all back! Fa-...........
[Another explosion, this one louder than the last]
- Status report! Can you retreat? How large is the enemy force?
- We wer-.......-ily outnumbered, at l-.....-en to one. W-........ lost seventy perce-.............. can't hold the area. Over.
- Sound the retreat! Salvage as many forces as you can and fall back to our position! Do you copy?
- ........-re breaking throu- ....
- I said retreat! Do you copy?
- ................
- Answer!
- It's no use, sir. We've lost the signal.
- Dammit!
- We're going to have to report this to the Commander. Your orders?
- ...Fine. He should be arriving any moment anyways.
- Understood. How should we.... sir, where are you going?
- What do you think? I'm going to tell him personally. I'm alright, but he'd eat you alive.
- But what are you going to say?
- The truth. Derych has fallen back into enemy control.
At seven in the morning, Lise Lemoize's radio alarm went off, playing her favorite song by Epoch-1006. After flailing about in her covers for a good minute in an attempt to shout off the all-girl rock 'n roll, she quickly dressed into a T-shirt and jogging pants and went downstairs to start her daily ten-minute jog in a garden nearby.
Before she set off, Lise turned back and admired the dorm she and her sister Treyle had been living in for the past seven years. The red-brick building had been their home ever since their father disappeared and their mother went abroad to work. Siren Academy's administrator at the time had decided to put the two girls, as well as several others who were in similar situations, into a "scholarship" program that allowed them to stay enrolled as long as they passed each school year with at least an 80. But that was a long time ago, and other things had happened since then...
As Lise jogged along, she looked around and took in all of the beautiful scenery. The sparkling light dew... the smell of the grass and flowers and trees... the faint breeze caressing the delicate blooms, it was a breathtaking sight. It's all so beautiful. I'm so lucky to attend this school. Aahhh... Siren Academy really is a wonderful place, Lise thought to herself. She also began to wonder about its past. Surely there must be someone or something that built this. Who founded it? Why is there so much space? Why is everything so big? And why here, away from all the bustling towns and sprawling cities?
When she finished her jog, Lise realized that she actually took twenty minutes. She hurried back up the stairs and into their flat only to find that Treyle had still not yet awoken. Silently, Lise crept up to her sister's bed and looked down. Treyle was an absolute mess, with her blanket and clothes half-off and her long brown hair fanning out in all directions. She was wrapped around her pillow and snoring very loudly. After some thought, Lise took the right side of the bed and lifted it up, letting Treyle slide onto the cold floor.
Waking up was a slow process for Treyle, even as she was right then. First, she noted that she felt as though she had been hit on her left side. After three seconds, Treyle noticed that the surface she was on was not the bed but something colder. As more time passed by, she faintly began to hear Lise scolding her for not waking up.
"Come on, Treyle! I've been trying to wake you up for the past five minutes already! Do you know what time it is? You know we have school again starting today. And we're gonna be late at this rate! Come on, get up!"
"...uunnn......"
"Hey, we're gonna miss the tram at this rate! Hurry up or I'm not making breakfast for you."
".....alright... I'll get out, Lise. Just make me something and I'll....."
Lise walked out of the room, knowing that her sister wouldn't skip out on breakfast for her life. She headed into the small kitchen area and began to make some toast and warm up the stove. Treyle, on the other hand, got out of her bed and straightened herself up a little. Her hair was still a mess, though. Drawn out by the smells drifting out from the kitchen, Treyle stumbled towards a dining table and sat herself down. Lise then brought their light breakfast to the table: a piece of toast, a fried egg, and some milk.
"What's with this breakfast? I can barely see it!"
"Oh don't be so greedy. It's your fault, anyways. If you had woken up earlier, I would have had more time to cook."
"Well, you could have started when I was asleep and then have gotten me."
"Hey, shut it! At least I'm actually making breakfast for you! You know, if you were a bit more responsible, I wouldn't have to look over you so much..."
As they continued to argue, their breakfast continued to not be eaten. Only after a good ten minutes or so did they realize how much time they didn't have left to make the tram. Abandoning their little squabble and stuffing the food down their throats, Lise and Treyle hurried themselves to their rooms to get dressed. Treyle put on a blue shirt with spagetti straps and khaki shorts, while Lise donned a green V-neck and jeans. They then rushed to the bathroom. After a little make-up time, Lise took her hair and tied it into a loose bun. Treyle brushed her hair only a little and let it retain most of its bedhead curliness. Wasting no time to admire themselves in the mirror, the pair ran outside to the stairs, then came back for their bookbags, and left again, leaving the door unlocked for the janitors. All this, excluding breakfast, took fifteen minutes and left only five minutes for them to get to the 7:35 tram's last call.
- Sir! ....... reinforcements ha- ... rushed ... -llied lines! All un- ....... heavy dam- ........ completely destroyed. W- ............ back! Ov-..
- There's interference on your line. What is going on there? Over.
- ....... -my has depl- ... eral jammers. Th- prevent all comm- ......... -ing through. T-
[An explosion]
- Report, soldier!
- They'v- ............. artillery strik-.............. -osition! Ever-........ -all back! Fa-...........
[Another explosion, this one louder than the last]
- Status report! Can you retreat? How large is the enemy force?
- We wer-.......-ily outnumbered, at l-.....-en to one. W-........ lost seventy perce-.............. can't hold the area. Over.
- Sound the retreat! Salvage as many forces as you can and fall back to our position! Do you copy?
- ........-re breaking throu- ....
- I said retreat! Do you copy?
- ................
- Answer!
- It's no use, sir. We've lost the signal.
- Dammit!
- We're going to have to report this to the Commander. Your orders?
- ...Fine. He should be arriving any moment anyways.
- Understood. How should we.... sir, where are you going?
- What do you think? I'm going to tell him personally. I'm alright, but he'd eat you alive.
- But what are you going to say?
- The truth. Derych has fallen back into enemy control.
At seven in the morning, Lise Lemoize's radio alarm went off, playing her favorite song by Epoch-1006. After flailing about in her covers for a good minute in an attempt to shout off the all-girl rock 'n roll, she quickly dressed into a T-shirt and jogging pants and went downstairs to start her daily ten-minute jog in a garden nearby.
Before she set off, Lise turned back and admired the dorm she and her sister Treyle had been living in for the past seven years. The red-brick building had been their home ever since their father disappeared and their mother went abroad to work. Siren Academy's administrator at the time had decided to put the two girls, as well as several others who were in similar situations, into a "scholarship" program that allowed them to stay enrolled as long as they passed each school year with at least an 80. But that was a long time ago, and other things had happened since then...
As Lise jogged along, she looked around and took in all of the beautiful scenery. The sparkling light dew... the smell of the grass and flowers and trees... the faint breeze caressing the delicate blooms, it was a breathtaking sight. It's all so beautiful. I'm so lucky to attend this school. Aahhh... Siren Academy really is a wonderful place, Lise thought to herself. She also began to wonder about its past. Surely there must be someone or something that built this. Who founded it? Why is there so much space? Why is everything so big? And why here, away from all the bustling towns and sprawling cities?
When she finished her jog, Lise realized that she actually took twenty minutes. She hurried back up the stairs and into their flat only to find that Treyle had still not yet awoken. Silently, Lise crept up to her sister's bed and looked down. Treyle was an absolute mess, with her blanket and clothes half-off and her long brown hair fanning out in all directions. She was wrapped around her pillow and snoring very loudly. After some thought, Lise took the right side of the bed and lifted it up, letting Treyle slide onto the cold floor.
Waking up was a slow process for Treyle, even as she was right then. First, she noted that she felt as though she had been hit on her left side. After three seconds, Treyle noticed that the surface she was on was not the bed but something colder. As more time passed by, she faintly began to hear Lise scolding her for not waking up.
"Come on, Treyle! I've been trying to wake you up for the past five minutes already! Do you know what time it is? You know we have school again starting today. And we're gonna be late at this rate! Come on, get up!"
"...uunnn......"
"Hey, we're gonna miss the tram at this rate! Hurry up or I'm not making breakfast for you."
".....alright... I'll get out, Lise. Just make me something and I'll....."
Lise walked out of the room, knowing that her sister wouldn't skip out on breakfast for her life. She headed into the small kitchen area and began to make some toast and warm up the stove. Treyle, on the other hand, got out of her bed and straightened herself up a little. Her hair was still a mess, though. Drawn out by the smells drifting out from the kitchen, Treyle stumbled towards a dining table and sat herself down. Lise then brought their light breakfast to the table: a piece of toast, a fried egg, and some milk.
"What's with this breakfast? I can barely see it!"
"Oh don't be so greedy. It's your fault, anyways. If you had woken up earlier, I would have had more time to cook."
"Well, you could have started when I was asleep and then have gotten me."
"Hey, shut it! At least I'm actually making breakfast for you! You know, if you were a bit more responsible, I wouldn't have to look over you so much..."
As they continued to argue, their breakfast continued to not be eaten. Only after a good ten minutes or so did they realize how much time they didn't have left to make the tram. Abandoning their little squabble and stuffing the food down their throats, Lise and Treyle hurried themselves to their rooms to get dressed. Treyle put on a blue shirt with spagetti straps and khaki shorts, while Lise donned a green V-neck and jeans. They then rushed to the bathroom. After a little make-up time, Lise took her hair and tied it into a loose bun. Treyle brushed her hair only a little and let it retain most of its bedhead curliness. Wasting no time to admire themselves in the mirror, the pair ran outside to the stairs, then came back for their bookbags, and left again, leaving the door unlocked for the janitors. All this, excluding breakfast, took fifteen minutes and left only five minutes for them to get to the 7:35 tram's last call.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Grand Design I
Mot Eredar was never a very patient boy, and today was just not his day. A long train ride from a military center far north, made even longer by the constant security checkpoints, the Scrubbing stations, and all other sorts of delays that coincidentally occurred today. Even more so, he had to switch trains, from his previous line to a civilian line. It was too much, and he knew it.Cyr was probably behind all of this, and Mot swore that he would have his moment of revenge one day.
After he had switched, the train he was riding sped as fast as it possibly couldn't to a larger station in the south, taking its sweet time to admire the scenery of a barren and wartorn land. It took a full thirty minutes.After that, Mot took a fast track down to the town known as Cephnia even further south. It was famous for its prestigious and exceedingly large school, Siren Academy, and he was to be stationed there for an unspecified amount of time. Just wonderful.
The reports stated that it was an exceptionally wealthy school grades kindergarten through senior year in college, but also the largest and most powerful stronghold in the north after the invasion of Derych. The school grounds were built on it in times of peace, but renovations were being made to return the site to its former power. Also due to the war, most of the male population in the area (as well as the sector) were shipped off to defend the falling front lines, which left a blessed 150 left. Since then, those who graduate from its system are immediately sent up as well, and boys in hiding join wherever there are openings. Because of this, Siren is predominantly female, with around 3000 girls to match the 150 boys. There were no male staff. Mot noted that nothing had changed since his withdrawal two years ago.
Huuuhh... Things are already too complicated for me to work, Mot pondered. What the hell am I supposed to do? Mot had never had any experience with girls, and returning to a school where he had no friends would not help either. His job was not explained to him, other than that he will be stationed there. However, he knew that whatever it was, it was important enough to ask the help of one of the top commanding officers known to Peace and Prosperity. While lost in thought, the train pulled into the Northeast Station at Cephnia. From there, he would switch trains one more time, with this one leading directly into the school grounds, to the TranService station on the main buildings second floor, west side.
Before he switched trains, Mot took his black attache case with him to a bathroom, where he changed from his civilian getup into a more formal black shirt and pants combination. He did not stuff his shirt into his pants, though, because he thought it was too uncomfortable to bother with. However, the end result was not exactly beautiful. A fifteen-year-old child wearing all-black business wear, like that didn't stick out. Mot was quite aware of the stares he was getting, so he blocked out the area around him from others' gazes, His powers, which was not quite sure of, allowed him to slip by and even slightly repulse the crowd, which left him a straight path to his train and almost half a car in free space.
As he settled down into one of the now-free seats on the right, Mot once again rummaged through his case and pulled out a headset-type device, which he promptly attached to the right side of his head. Sector 7 just gets more and more creative, don't they? The machine looked like a slim flip-phone combined with half of a set of headphones and shrunk down to one-fourth the original size. He tinkered with it a little bit until the pre-recorded message played.
---Start---
Mot,
As you apparently have finished setting this little gift I specifically chose for you, I suppose that it's about time you found out what your mission is. If you want to back out, it's two years too late. You will comply. Do you understand?
Mot nooded slightly.
Since you have agreed, let's get down to business. Your job will be to recruit all 150 of Siren Academy's boys into the Extension's army. Every single one. We will need their strength to mount a counteroffensive some time later. Oh, you will be leading that, too. Anyways, you will take and train them into a suitable fighting force. Now, do not worry. There is no deadline for when they will be needed, but main HQ has requested that they be ready by the end of this
year. And you know how much we hate to turn down requests.
Mot frowned a little, recalling how pushy HQ was.
Also, the entirety of the Siren complex will be put to use sometime in the future, maybe weeks, maybe months. You will receive more information on that matter later. This thing can only record for a few minutes, and they're too expensive to buy. But the quality is really good, don't you think? Considering how much it cost in comparison to the value, I think that it's a really good-
"Get on with it!" Mot screamed mentally. He stood up, scoweling a little more.
You should be getting within range of your powers to get to the old labs. Go there as soon as possible, a layout of the situation will be available. But get to class before ceremonies start!
---End---
The device went dead. Mot, still standing, knew he had no time to waste. He was already within range of said labs, and there was only twenty minutes until the opening ceremony began, including the five minutes it would take for the train to stop at the nearest station. So, he took off the device and stowed it away. Picking up his case, Mot stood perfectly still with his eyes closed, picturing himself in total darkness. He envisioned the battered buildings of the labs at the end of the darkness and took a step forward...
Mot Eredar disappeared from reality in that moment.
After he had switched, the train he was riding sped as fast as it possibly couldn't to a larger station in the south, taking its sweet time to admire the scenery of a barren and wartorn land. It took a full thirty minutes.After that, Mot took a fast track down to the town known as Cephnia even further south. It was famous for its prestigious and exceedingly large school, Siren Academy, and he was to be stationed there for an unspecified amount of time. Just wonderful.
The reports stated that it was an exceptionally wealthy school grades kindergarten through senior year in college, but also the largest and most powerful stronghold in the north after the invasion of Derych. The school grounds were built on it in times of peace, but renovations were being made to return the site to its former power. Also due to the war, most of the male population in the area (as well as the sector) were shipped off to defend the falling front lines, which left a blessed 150 left. Since then, those who graduate from its system are immediately sent up as well, and boys in hiding join wherever there are openings. Because of this, Siren is predominantly female, with around 3000 girls to match the 150 boys. There were no male staff. Mot noted that nothing had changed since his withdrawal two years ago.
Huuuhh... Things are already too complicated for me to work, Mot pondered. What the hell am I supposed to do? Mot had never had any experience with girls, and returning to a school where he had no friends would not help either. His job was not explained to him, other than that he will be stationed there. However, he knew that whatever it was, it was important enough to ask the help of one of the top commanding officers known to Peace and Prosperity. While lost in thought, the train pulled into the Northeast Station at Cephnia. From there, he would switch trains one more time, with this one leading directly into the school grounds, to the TranService station on the main buildings second floor, west side.
Before he switched trains, Mot took his black attache case with him to a bathroom, where he changed from his civilian getup into a more formal black shirt and pants combination. He did not stuff his shirt into his pants, though, because he thought it was too uncomfortable to bother with. However, the end result was not exactly beautiful. A fifteen-year-old child wearing all-black business wear, like that didn't stick out. Mot was quite aware of the stares he was getting, so he blocked out the area around him from others' gazes, His powers, which was not quite sure of, allowed him to slip by and even slightly repulse the crowd, which left him a straight path to his train and almost half a car in free space.
As he settled down into one of the now-free seats on the right, Mot once again rummaged through his case and pulled out a headset-type device, which he promptly attached to the right side of his head. Sector 7 just gets more and more creative, don't they? The machine looked like a slim flip-phone combined with half of a set of headphones and shrunk down to one-fourth the original size. He tinkered with it a little bit until the pre-recorded message played.
---Start---
Mot,
As you apparently have finished setting this little gift I specifically chose for you, I suppose that it's about time you found out what your mission is. If you want to back out, it's two years too late. You will comply. Do you understand?
Mot nooded slightly.
Since you have agreed, let's get down to business. Your job will be to recruit all 150 of Siren Academy's boys into the Extension's army. Every single one. We will need their strength to mount a counteroffensive some time later. Oh, you will be leading that, too. Anyways, you will take and train them into a suitable fighting force. Now, do not worry. There is no deadline for when they will be needed, but main HQ has requested that they be ready by the end of this
year. And you know how much we hate to turn down requests.
Mot frowned a little, recalling how pushy HQ was.
Also, the entirety of the Siren complex will be put to use sometime in the future, maybe weeks, maybe months. You will receive more information on that matter later. This thing can only record for a few minutes, and they're too expensive to buy. But the quality is really good, don't you think? Considering how much it cost in comparison to the value, I think that it's a really good-
"Get on with it!" Mot screamed mentally. He stood up, scoweling a little more.
You should be getting within range of your powers to get to the old labs. Go there as soon as possible, a layout of the situation will be available. But get to class before ceremonies start!
---End---
The device went dead. Mot, still standing, knew he had no time to waste. He was already within range of said labs, and there was only twenty minutes until the opening ceremony began, including the five minutes it would take for the train to stop at the nearest station. So, he took off the device and stowed it away. Picking up his case, Mot stood perfectly still with his eyes closed, picturing himself in total darkness. He envisioned the battered buildings of the labs at the end of the darkness and took a step forward...
Mot Eredar disappeared from reality in that moment.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Dawn's Morning Star, Part I
-Sir, all units have advanced within striking distance of the target zone. We can lay down support fire when necessary. Your orders?
-Reform on me. Create a defensive perimeter around the target zone, and do not be seen. Enough has happened already, and yesterday was too close.
-Understood. Are you sure you can handle the current situation? If your dossier is correct, you've been on leave for a year.
-You underestimate your commander. Everything will go according to plan. Now mobilize! I can't have all of you around during school hours!
It was before dawn, when the sun had not yet stretched its arms into the veil of night. Eriko woke up to find an empty house as always. Her parents had not returned and would not do so for some time, so she was alone. However, the house was not quiet, as her music blared through the speakers in her room, filling the entire space with song. After taking a quick shower and getting dressed into a red tee-shirt and jeans, she ran downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast. It was a light breakfast, toast with eggs and milk, that would last her until lunch. By the time Em had turned off everything, locked the doors, and left the front gate, it had not been an hour. She sprinted to the Northeast Station, vowing to be early for the train starting today.
Among the other female students at the station, she took notice of a girl of small stature leaning against a concrete pole, absorbed in a small book held in her left hand. She was wearing a white shirt, a rumpled blue skirt running past her knees, an attache case-like bookbag, and no-rim glasses balancing delicately on her nose. Her shiny, jet black hair swayed past her skirt, and her nonchalant gaze tempted the words on the pages to life.
"Rie!" Eriko yelled a tad too loud. The girl by the post, recognizing Eriko's voice, let her left arm swing down and pushed off the pole with her right.
"Ahh geez! You're too loud in the mornings," responded the girl in a biting voice.
"But shouldn't best friends be happy to see each other?"
"Since when did I become your best friend?"
"You're cold!" But Eriko was right. Tied together by the School Reporting Club, they were drawn to one another in the search of important stories and groundbreaking news. In this manner did they continue to wait for the train.
When it did arrive, it was so quiet that they almost did not notice it. Only when the warning messages played did they pay attention. The magnetically levitated train glided silently into the station, hovering inches off of the tracks. As they and the other passengers boarded, it wobbled slightly then righted itself. After the second wave of messages, the pneumatic doors slid shut, and the train took off south to Siren Academy.
The two girls scanned their surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. It was their nature. However, as hard as they searched, they could not find anything worth seeing. Just other girls on this section and those next to it. Just girls and one boy... One boy! What?
Both spotting him in the car in front, Rie and Eriko both pressed against the small window of the door that led to the forward areas.
Indeed there was a boy, but he was different. For one, he was wearing all black. Black, saggy supposedly-formal wear pants and a shirt of the same type. And his expression was a slight scowel, if anything. He was tampering with a headset-like device attached to the right side of his head, only barely nodding and gazing out of the window on his right. But the most distinguishing factor was the emptiness surrounding him. There was no one standing next to him, and no one acknowledged his presence. It was like there was a dead spot around him. He did not exist.
However, Eriko recognized him. Sort of. His name was Mot Eredar. Last she saw him, he had black-brown hair and thick glasses, and he was skinnier and shorter than the one before her now. This one was taller but just as skinny, had no glasses, and his hair color changed between black and a light grey. His face had not changed, though. He was expressionless as always, even during his last hours two years ago.
Rumor had it he withdrew from Siren at the end of the semester two years ago. Eriko would know, she had attempted to cover his story because no reason was given for his withdrawal. His name could not even be found in the school archives after that. Now Mot is riding a train full of girls who have not seen him for over a year towards a school he mysteriously disappeared from, and no one has noted his existence. Too many things were wrong with this situation. She glanced back at Rie, who also turned to Eriko. Surely she would have heard of him, Eriko thought. Rie had heard of him, but only in the article about his transfer out. Without a word, they agreed to get a closer look.
When they returned to the window, though, Mot was gone and all the girls in the cart he was in had moved to take back the empty space. Where could he have gone? This is a moving bullet train barreling down the tracks at at least 500kph, thought Eriko. She searched the outside of the cars from the side windows, but there was only the sound of howling air. People just don't vanish like that. Not twice.
Soon after the train slowed its approached and slid delicately into the school's front station. While the other passengers were disembarking, the duo searched the nearby cars frantically for even a trace of Mot. They found nothing. Disappointed, they abandoned the search and got off before the train continued on its circuit. From there, they boarded an old-style electric-powered train and took it to the dock on Siren's second floor. On the way, they admired the vast campus that they once again returned to. Bleach-white and brick-brown buildings, ubiquitous and magnificent structures, and greenery decorated the landscape. It was unfathomable how anyone could dedicate this much open space to an educational facility. As the train pulled in, Eriko and Rie were lost in thought, caught in the awe Siren Academy always gave them.
-Reform on me. Create a defensive perimeter around the target zone, and do not be seen. Enough has happened already, and yesterday was too close.
-Understood. Are you sure you can handle the current situation? If your dossier is correct, you've been on leave for a year.
-You underestimate your commander. Everything will go according to plan. Now mobilize! I can't have all of you around during school hours!
It was before dawn, when the sun had not yet stretched its arms into the veil of night. Eriko woke up to find an empty house as always. Her parents had not returned and would not do so for some time, so she was alone. However, the house was not quiet, as her music blared through the speakers in her room, filling the entire space with song. After taking a quick shower and getting dressed into a red tee-shirt and jeans, she ran downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast. It was a light breakfast, toast with eggs and milk, that would last her until lunch. By the time Em had turned off everything, locked the doors, and left the front gate, it had not been an hour. She sprinted to the Northeast Station, vowing to be early for the train starting today.
Among the other female students at the station, she took notice of a girl of small stature leaning against a concrete pole, absorbed in a small book held in her left hand. She was wearing a white shirt, a rumpled blue skirt running past her knees, an attache case-like bookbag, and no-rim glasses balancing delicately on her nose. Her shiny, jet black hair swayed past her skirt, and her nonchalant gaze tempted the words on the pages to life.
"Rie!" Eriko yelled a tad too loud. The girl by the post, recognizing Eriko's voice, let her left arm swing down and pushed off the pole with her right.
"Ahh geez! You're too loud in the mornings," responded the girl in a biting voice.
"But shouldn't best friends be happy to see each other?"
"Since when did I become your best friend?"
"You're cold!" But Eriko was right. Tied together by the School Reporting Club, they were drawn to one another in the search of important stories and groundbreaking news. In this manner did they continue to wait for the train.
When it did arrive, it was so quiet that they almost did not notice it. Only when the warning messages played did they pay attention. The magnetically levitated train glided silently into the station, hovering inches off of the tracks. As they and the other passengers boarded, it wobbled slightly then righted itself. After the second wave of messages, the pneumatic doors slid shut, and the train took off south to Siren Academy.
The two girls scanned their surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. It was their nature. However, as hard as they searched, they could not find anything worth seeing. Just other girls on this section and those next to it. Just girls and one boy... One boy! What?
Both spotting him in the car in front, Rie and Eriko both pressed against the small window of the door that led to the forward areas.
Indeed there was a boy, but he was different. For one, he was wearing all black. Black, saggy supposedly-formal wear pants and a shirt of the same type. And his expression was a slight scowel, if anything. He was tampering with a headset-like device attached to the right side of his head, only barely nodding and gazing out of the window on his right. But the most distinguishing factor was the emptiness surrounding him. There was no one standing next to him, and no one acknowledged his presence. It was like there was a dead spot around him. He did not exist.
However, Eriko recognized him. Sort of. His name was Mot Eredar. Last she saw him, he had black-brown hair and thick glasses, and he was skinnier and shorter than the one before her now. This one was taller but just as skinny, had no glasses, and his hair color changed between black and a light grey. His face had not changed, though. He was expressionless as always, even during his last hours two years ago.
Rumor had it he withdrew from Siren at the end of the semester two years ago. Eriko would know, she had attempted to cover his story because no reason was given for his withdrawal. His name could not even be found in the school archives after that. Now Mot is riding a train full of girls who have not seen him for over a year towards a school he mysteriously disappeared from, and no one has noted his existence. Too many things were wrong with this situation. She glanced back at Rie, who also turned to Eriko. Surely she would have heard of him, Eriko thought. Rie had heard of him, but only in the article about his transfer out. Without a word, they agreed to get a closer look.
When they returned to the window, though, Mot was gone and all the girls in the cart he was in had moved to take back the empty space. Where could he have gone? This is a moving bullet train barreling down the tracks at at least 500kph, thought Eriko. She searched the outside of the cars from the side windows, but there was only the sound of howling air. People just don't vanish like that. Not twice.
Soon after the train slowed its approached and slid delicately into the school's front station. While the other passengers were disembarking, the duo searched the nearby cars frantically for even a trace of Mot. They found nothing. Disappointed, they abandoned the search and got off before the train continued on its circuit. From there, they boarded an old-style electric-powered train and took it to the dock on Siren's second floor. On the way, they admired the vast campus that they once again returned to. Bleach-white and brick-brown buildings, ubiquitous and magnificent structures, and greenery decorated the landscape. It was unfathomable how anyone could dedicate this much open space to an educational facility. As the train pulled in, Eriko and Rie were lost in thought, caught in the awe Siren Academy always gave them.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Zero Degrees, by Rie
Earth died. The world that once was, one of growth, peace, and prosperity, vanished into darkness, and a new "thing" appeared to replace it. This place is no longer a world, it is a madhouse.
The year as of two minutes ago is 2590. It is a new year, and everyone says that things will get better. Yet nothing has changed. The streets are filled with the homeless, the poor, and the forsaken, with their brethren's bodies laid at their feet. Red water runs throughout the cracks in the pavement. Ash shades the sky an ominous grey. The world recently entered its 6th official World War, with the actual total being 9, so far. The enemy is known to all as Zephania, a country built by religion alone over the shattered remains of WUN, and infamous for its attempts to consolidate and expand.
Cities lay in ruins. Not just in the American continents, but all around the world. Since the beginning of the Zephanist expansion, lovingly dubbed "Terror Wave," several major population centers across the map were targeted. Europe, Asia, Australia, the Americas, Africa, and even the Antarctic settlement were subject to a sudden awakening of sleeper cells and underground organizations, all under Zephanist influence.
In response, both the strong and the weak huddled together to combat the fierce new threats, both internal and external. ZION, the Asian Alliances, Disk, and all the others are examples of such. And everyone managed to succeed. Except the Americas. Already weakened from the last global conflict (World War V) and broken into the loose city-states of WUN, most of the area fell quickly to the Zephanist incursion. Only a few small coastal areas staved off the enemy offensive with heavy support from all allied organizations, and several reclamation attempts have begun over the past decades. None have succeeded yet.
Terrified and awed, some ran in panic, for there was nothing left for them in this world. Others stood perfectly still, for their bodies would not move. And others died. Many others. The innocent, the guilty, the soldiers, the civilians, the men, the women, the boys, the girls, and everyone else. The ruins of their lives now engulfed in flames dye the sky red, and the blood of all those sacrificed tint it red.
But they were not the only ones who suffered. They are not the only ones who are suffering. Funds from all vital institutions in the new world were drained in order to sustain and prevent the violence. People lost their houses, their belongings, their livelihoods, and their lives in the sake of global peace.
And yet, some people do not know of this at all and continue to live richly, abusing the luxury and privilage they take for granted. As far as I am aware, I am one of the only girls aware of the actual affects of this war within the school other than some adults. Not like the others. They do not know nor care to know where all their boyfriends went, where there money goes, why the shops closed, and what they really should care about. And I'm not sure if even the 150 that remain do not know of what they will soon be joining! It's...simply unforgivable how they do not act.
Nevertheless, I wouldn't blame them for their ignorance. They pay attention to the celebrities, the latest fads, the newest gear, and the hottest items that are plastered all over the media. The newspapers, magazines, television, radio, the networks, not one of them mentions the atrocities throughout the world. Not at first. Only when they are pushed and shoved and strained does the media speak of the war, and just barely. The lines are threadbare, and the only reporter to have ever ventured an in-depth examination vanished off the radar five years ago. That man was the pioneer in search of a story no one would touch.
In the name of that man, I became a junior reporter in his stead and set out on the road that he walked. I have pushed buttons and pulled strings to find out what exactly happened. Robert Trymal and his scoop would not be lost to the sands of time. Not if I can help it. He is my father, you know.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Dry Summer Sauce, Part II
As Eriko approached the east gate, she took notice of the various noises coming from the area. Loud clashes of metal against metal, with low but long lines of staccatos of more metal, pounding of tools on wood. But most of all, yelling. And lots of it, too. It sounded like construction, heavy work. What could be going on here? she thought. I'm pretty sure the school didn't need to renovate anything except the science labs, which are nowhere near here. Besides, like there's anyone to do the work anyways. Everyone could is already up north, probably dead. However, when Eriko reached the gate, she slid to a stop. She had seen something that shouldn't be here. Something that hasn't been here for years.
Men. Supposedly they had all left to fight in a war years ago. The heads at Sector 0 and (Sector 4) would take anyone. Volunteers were welcome, but not enough. In its place, a mass draft enlisted anyone who could hold a gun. Even children. And those who had just finished college were shipped off straight to the front lines the moment the graduated, no questions asked. And they never returned.
It was decided that not everyone could be drafted, so a code was emplaced that allowed a maximum of 150 young males under 24 be exempt from the draft. Starting from the youngest up, they picked out every boy under the limits and took the rest away. And all those 150 attended Siren Academy, the last stronghold of the north that hadn't fallen. Eriko would know, for she herself was evacuated moments before the fall of Derych 5 years ago, which was followed by a flurry of refugees fleeing the oncoming "Terror Wave."
But what she had seen there paled in comparison to the scene that unveiled before her eyes. She was right, it was construction work, but there were at least 300-400 strong, healthy males working the machinery. Impossible, they're not supposed to be here. I'm just seeing things. Nevertheless, she could not convince herself to believe what she was experiencing was nothing less than reality.
Something is wrong here. No one else has noticed it, but there is definitely something wrong here. It's my job as a reporter to find out what the hell is going on. Eriko ran inside the gate, slightly skidding on the path as she did so. The rain was falling even harder, as if the school was the center of the storm. Luckily, not one of the workers noticed her as she made her way down the path, until she brought herself to a short, frail-looking man standing on a slightly raised platform. He was getting orders from a strange handheld device and then barking them at the workers. A foreman, apparently. It doesn't look like he could do any of the work he guided.
"What is going on here!?" Eriko screamed to the foreman.
"What the? Who let you in here? No one's supposed to be here!" yelled the foreman.
"You are," she answered. Frustrated, the man awkwardly made his way down the platform and went directly to Eriko. At that moment, she was happy. He was noticeably shorter than her, and she barely cleared 5-foot 3.
"Listen here, miss. I'm in the middle of something extremely important right now. It'd be a great help if you would just waltz yourself right back out that gate and forget everything you saw today."
"Like hell I would! Do you think I would pass this story up? I want to know what exactly is going on, and you're going to tell me." As Eriko said this, she lifted the man by his collar and raised her fist threateningly.
"Wha- wait, hold on. I can't hear anything you're saying." The man was speaking into his little handheld, and glancing pleadingly to the school's highest rooftop, 6 floors above him and 500m away. There was someone there, and he was looking right at her.
"Oh, so there's where your boss is, then? I guess I'll go have a little chat with him, then." Eriko dropped the man, who crumpled onto the wet concrete. She began running towards the school entrance, planning to shoot straight up the stairs and pulling the veil off this mystery. I WILL have this story.
However, a strong force flew in at that moment and swept her off her feet. Slipping and falling on the soaked path, Eriko landed on her back. Hard. The impact made her head jerk backward, slamming it on the concrete. She blacked out for a moment, and was only slightly aware of her surroundings as she regained consciousness. Only her head would move, and she knew that she would black out again soon, so Eriko took a moment to study her environment. From what she could feel, it was still raining, but there was no wind. What was that force then? She angled her head towards the roof and saw that the figure was gone. She was about to search elsewhere until a shadow loomed over her paralyzed body.
Eriko couldn't make out much of the presence before her. Whatever it was, it stood only slightly taller than her and it looked human. The only clear things she could see were two eyes. They were grey. They cast a glare on her, and she could feel it. It was not cold, but suprisingly warm.
As she lost grasp and began to slip back into unconsciousness, she weakly spoke her thoughts.
Who are you?
The figure answered back gently. She could not hear it, but the voice was warm.
Then everything went black.
Eriko shot up. She was at her house, in her bedroom. She was on her bed and in her nightgown, with her soaking white dress and other clothes hanging contently on a line outside her window. The storm had ended. As she tried to remember what had just occurred, she found that she could not. Eriko made her way to the window ahd took down her clothes. They were dry, meaning that the storm had ended some time ago, and she had arrived home anytime after but long enough to dry her things. She gazed out onto the streets, which were also dry but still dark under the cover of the clouds but slowly being pierced by the sunset. Before Eriko went back to bed, she wondered what tomorrow would be like.
Will it rain again?
Men. Supposedly they had all left to fight in a war years ago. The heads at Sector 0 and (Sector 4) would take anyone. Volunteers were welcome, but not enough. In its place, a mass draft enlisted anyone who could hold a gun. Even children. And those who had just finished college were shipped off straight to the front lines the moment the graduated, no questions asked. And they never returned.
It was decided that not everyone could be drafted, so a code was emplaced that allowed a maximum of 150 young males under 24 be exempt from the draft. Starting from the youngest up, they picked out every boy under the limits and took the rest away. And all those 150 attended Siren Academy, the last stronghold of the north that hadn't fallen. Eriko would know, for she herself was evacuated moments before the fall of Derych 5 years ago, which was followed by a flurry of refugees fleeing the oncoming "Terror Wave."
But what she had seen there paled in comparison to the scene that unveiled before her eyes. She was right, it was construction work, but there were at least 300-400 strong, healthy males working the machinery. Impossible, they're not supposed to be here. I'm just seeing things. Nevertheless, she could not convince herself to believe what she was experiencing was nothing less than reality.
Something is wrong here. No one else has noticed it, but there is definitely something wrong here. It's my job as a reporter to find out what the hell is going on. Eriko ran inside the gate, slightly skidding on the path as she did so. The rain was falling even harder, as if the school was the center of the storm. Luckily, not one of the workers noticed her as she made her way down the path, until she brought herself to a short, frail-looking man standing on a slightly raised platform. He was getting orders from a strange handheld device and then barking them at the workers. A foreman, apparently. It doesn't look like he could do any of the work he guided.
"What is going on here!?" Eriko screamed to the foreman.
"What the? Who let you in here? No one's supposed to be here!" yelled the foreman.
"You are," she answered. Frustrated, the man awkwardly made his way down the platform and went directly to Eriko. At that moment, she was happy. He was noticeably shorter than her, and she barely cleared 5-foot 3.
"Listen here, miss. I'm in the middle of something extremely important right now. It'd be a great help if you would just waltz yourself right back out that gate and forget everything you saw today."
"Like hell I would! Do you think I would pass this story up? I want to know what exactly is going on, and you're going to tell me." As Eriko said this, she lifted the man by his collar and raised her fist threateningly.
"Wha- wait, hold on. I can't hear anything you're saying." The man was speaking into his little handheld, and glancing pleadingly to the school's highest rooftop, 6 floors above him and 500m away. There was someone there, and he was looking right at her.
"Oh, so there's where your boss is, then? I guess I'll go have a little chat with him, then." Eriko dropped the man, who crumpled onto the wet concrete. She began running towards the school entrance, planning to shoot straight up the stairs and pulling the veil off this mystery. I WILL have this story.
However, a strong force flew in at that moment and swept her off her feet. Slipping and falling on the soaked path, Eriko landed on her back. Hard. The impact made her head jerk backward, slamming it on the concrete. She blacked out for a moment, and was only slightly aware of her surroundings as she regained consciousness. Only her head would move, and she knew that she would black out again soon, so Eriko took a moment to study her environment. From what she could feel, it was still raining, but there was no wind. What was that force then? She angled her head towards the roof and saw that the figure was gone. She was about to search elsewhere until a shadow loomed over her paralyzed body.
Eriko couldn't make out much of the presence before her. Whatever it was, it stood only slightly taller than her and it looked human. The only clear things she could see were two eyes. They were grey. They cast a glare on her, and she could feel it. It was not cold, but suprisingly warm.
As she lost grasp and began to slip back into unconsciousness, she weakly spoke her thoughts.
Who are you?
The figure answered back gently. She could not hear it, but the voice was warm.
Then everything went black.
Eriko shot up. She was at her house, in her bedroom. She was on her bed and in her nightgown, with her soaking white dress and other clothes hanging contently on a line outside her window. The storm had ended. As she tried to remember what had just occurred, she found that she could not. Eriko made her way to the window ahd took down her clothes. They were dry, meaning that the storm had ended some time ago, and she had arrived home anytime after but long enough to dry her things. She gazed out onto the streets, which were also dry but still dark under the cover of the clouds but slowly being pierced by the sunset. Before Eriko went back to bed, she wondered what tomorrow would be like.
Will it rain again?
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Global Communications Facility
---Start---
Dear Mrs. Tannen,
The team and the local dispatch have failed to deliver your package. The circumstances were out of control, and the appearance of a rather annoying distraction added to the eventual failure of the delivery. The company does admit to two errors on our part, but it is my job to inform you that this disaster befell us not by our actions. Hopefully, you will continue to remain in our service. Once again, the company sincerely apologizes for our failure and requests further correspondence for more details on the current situation. We look forward to hosting you again, Mrs. Tannen. By the way, please don't spoil our delivery boys so much, they are only doing their job.
We offer ourselves in service.
March Game, FLTR Services
PS Viitechiitachii is real.
---End---
"That's what it said?" exclaimed Lise. "What's with that crazy word at the end? What was the package? Who's Mrs. Tannen? And what kind of company is FLTR Services?"
"All great and obvious questions, but it's not like we're gonna get any answers by just saying them out loud," responded Treyle. "Anyways, let's take a look at the next one."
"Agreed." They took out the second envelope, this one as blank and white as the last, including the FLTR relief on the top-right corner. Lise got the letter knife and cut the envelope on the right again. This time, two items fell out onto the floor: one was another letter, the other was a receipt. Lise took the receipt first and read it out loud.
---Start---
Highwire Services, All-Area Sales Division
Congratulations on your purchase, Mot! This new O-20a Operaboard will suit all of your needs. Now with multi-network connectibility, inter-structure setup, virtual manipulation capabilities, a customized pseudo-electromagnetic battery and much more, your new board will become your number one tool for the rest of your life, guaranteed! If, for any reason, you have any questions, comments, or problems, feel free to contact us using the emergency function on the back of the board. We will be notified immediately and will send someone.
Good luck in your future battles,
Travis Lyman, Assistant Director of Sector Seven Sales
---End---
Treyle was shocked. Highwire produced the most expensive and top-notch technology out of Sector Seven, the haven of all things electronic! How could a lowly, reclusive student even afford any of it, much less be personally commended by one of the richest men in ZION? What did he mean by 'future battles'? she thought. "Lise, get that letter that just fell out."
---Start---
Mot Eredar, I'm impressed! So much progress in so little time! You really are my apprentice. I have some startling news for you, so I'll feed it to you in bits. First, this Operaboard should be able to replace your old one (it's still mine, you hear? You're not getting it back!), so I hope you like it. Second, First, since our boss has pushed up the schedule according to the calculations, we'll be advancing towards your AO. Don't be startled, I'll handle the papers accordingly. Lastly, I'll be assigning you a crew, handpicked by me from your most avid followers. You are more popular than you think.
With these new rules, and a few more at the next briefing, go.
Cyr
PS This will be our last correspondence by papmail. From now on, use the instruction manual that came with my little gift. And also, use the GCF for best reception, at least for now.
---End---
That settled it. There was definitely something going on with Mot, and it looked like something big. After Lise had gotten a good look at the letter, they put everything back where they found it and ran outside of the dorms to the GCF.
Dear Mrs. Tannen,
The team and the local dispatch have failed to deliver your package. The circumstances were out of control, and the appearance of a rather annoying distraction added to the eventual failure of the delivery. The company does admit to two errors on our part, but it is my job to inform you that this disaster befell us not by our actions. Hopefully, you will continue to remain in our service. Once again, the company sincerely apologizes for our failure and requests further correspondence for more details on the current situation. We look forward to hosting you again, Mrs. Tannen. By the way, please don't spoil our delivery boys so much, they are only doing their job.
We offer ourselves in service.
March Game, FLTR Services
PS Viitechiitachii is real.
---End---
"That's what it said?" exclaimed Lise. "What's with that crazy word at the end? What was the package? Who's Mrs. Tannen? And what kind of company is FLTR Services?"
"All great and obvious questions, but it's not like we're gonna get any answers by just saying them out loud," responded Treyle. "Anyways, let's take a look at the next one."
"Agreed." They took out the second envelope, this one as blank and white as the last, including the FLTR relief on the top-right corner. Lise got the letter knife and cut the envelope on the right again. This time, two items fell out onto the floor: one was another letter, the other was a receipt. Lise took the receipt first and read it out loud.
---Start---
Highwire Services, All-Area Sales Division
Congratulations on your purchase, Mot! This new O-20a Operaboard will suit all of your needs. Now with multi-network connectibility, inter-structure setup, virtual manipulation capabilities, a customized pseudo-electromagnetic battery and much more, your new board will become your number one tool for the rest of your life, guaranteed! If, for any reason, you have any questions, comments, or problems, feel free to contact us using the emergency function on the back of the board. We will be notified immediately and will send someone.
Good luck in your future battles,
Travis Lyman, Assistant Director of Sector Seven Sales
---End---
Treyle was shocked. Highwire produced the most expensive and top-notch technology out of Sector Seven, the haven of all things electronic! How could a lowly, reclusive student even afford any of it, much less be personally commended by one of the richest men in ZION? What did he mean by 'future battles'? she thought. "Lise, get that letter that just fell out."
---Start---
Mot Eredar, I'm impressed! So much progress in so little time! You really are my apprentice. I have some startling news for you, so I'll feed it to you in bits. First, this Operaboard should be able to replace your old one (it's still mine, you hear? You're not getting it back!), so I hope you like it. Second, First, since our boss has pushed up the schedule according to the calculations, we'll be advancing towards your AO. Don't be startled, I'll handle the papers accordingly. Lastly, I'll be assigning you a crew, handpicked by me from your most avid followers. You are more popular than you think.
With these new rules, and a few more at the next briefing, go.
Cyr
PS This will be our last correspondence by papmail. From now on, use the instruction manual that came with my little gift. And also, use the GCF for best reception, at least for now.
---End---
That settled it. There was definitely something going on with Mot, and it looked like something big. After Lise had gotten a good look at the letter, they put everything back where they found it and ran outside of the dorms to the GCF.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Dry Summer Sauce, Part I
The sky didn't seem to like Eriko. Every day she went out, the wind blew hard, it rained, or it was cloudy. And today, they proceeded to show no mercy again. Everyone decided to play together, and they invited a new friend, lightning, to the game. No matter, Eriko wasn't going to entertain them today.
Nevertheless, she had better things to do than worry about the weather. She had just come back from Quincy's house after delivering the pictures for the school paper. Tomorrow was the due date, and those photos were a must. Now that she was finished, Eriko had to go back home and prepare dinner. Her mother would most likely not be home yet until two in the morning, so there was no one to watch over her. With that, her soaking clothes could wait for a few minutes.
Eriko reached some cover under a bus stop not too far from Siren Academy, the school she has attended for some four or five years after her move. She had moved out from Derych up north only moments before its invasion, and it was not a matter she would discuss with anyone. Eriko felt as if she was forgetting something then, but she shook her head at the thought. Surely she had brought everything she needed, right?
There was a pool of rainwater gathering at her feet, and Eriko decided to have a look. She wanted to see how drenched she was, and it's not like she carried a mirror in her pocket. After Eriko had taken out some little twigs from the pool, she looked down.
What she saw was not all that different from when she looked at herself after taking a shower, the only difference was that she was wearing clothes; this was expected. Eriko was more interested in her face. She had always wondered what others saw her as. Was she pretty, or not so much? Was her perpetually straight black hair a strength, or a problem? What about her face? Sure, she had long eyelashes and didn't wear too much make-up. She also had a small nose, thin lips, and vividly green eyes, which were said to be her strong points by Sei and them. But what did the others, the strangers and the boys, think?
After some five or so minutes, Eriko decided that looking at herself was not going to tell her the answer and continued on home. Since Quincy lived on the opposite side of the academy, she was running down the street next to one of its long border walls, and she was thinking about exactly what kind of school she went to.
Siren campus, as a whole, was massive. Containing the classrooms, the gymnasium, the library complex, auditorium, the outdoor auditorium, two fields, three fields, the "haunted" science/technology labs, the offices, the GCF (Global Communications Facility), a dorm for female live-in students and a separate dorm for all boys attending, and much more, the area required to house all of these and then surround it with a 7-foot high brick wall easily occupied a square mile.
Not just that, the potential education level that could be achieved was ranked as the highest in all of Sector 4, second place in all of ZION (lost to Sector 2), and eleventh worldwide. All the teachers and staff are skilled, with the oldest ones rumored to be international experts on their subject matter. The list of classes available was extremely diverse, with everything from atoms to ZION history covered. The most miraculous fact was that most of the costs for maintaining and upgrading the facilities were paid directly by Sectors 0 and 9. The only thing required was a relatively low starter price of 5000 ZEN a year. How could the homeland afford this, or even allow this? The question was not for her to answer, and she knew it. Let ZION deal with it.
However, there were sounds and smoke coming from the campus. It seemed that something peculiar was happening at the eastern entrance. Strange, no one should be here because of the rain and because it's summer, Eriko thought to herself. She decided to go check it out. Hell, she could spare a few minutes. Her mother wouldn't notice and couldn't care less if she did. Without another thought, she hurried towards Siren's eastern gate.
Nevertheless, she had better things to do than worry about the weather. She had just come back from Quincy's house after delivering the pictures for the school paper. Tomorrow was the due date, and those photos were a must. Now that she was finished, Eriko had to go back home and prepare dinner. Her mother would most likely not be home yet until two in the morning, so there was no one to watch over her. With that, her soaking clothes could wait for a few minutes.
Eriko reached some cover under a bus stop not too far from Siren Academy, the school she has attended for some four or five years after her move. She had moved out from Derych up north only moments before its invasion, and it was not a matter she would discuss with anyone. Eriko felt as if she was forgetting something then, but she shook her head at the thought. Surely she had brought everything she needed, right?
There was a pool of rainwater gathering at her feet, and Eriko decided to have a look. She wanted to see how drenched she was, and it's not like she carried a mirror in her pocket. After Eriko had taken out some little twigs from the pool, she looked down.
What she saw was not all that different from when she looked at herself after taking a shower, the only difference was that she was wearing clothes; this was expected. Eriko was more interested in her face. She had always wondered what others saw her as. Was she pretty, or not so much? Was her perpetually straight black hair a strength, or a problem? What about her face? Sure, she had long eyelashes and didn't wear too much make-up. She also had a small nose, thin lips, and vividly green eyes, which were said to be her strong points by Sei and them. But what did the others, the strangers and the boys, think?
After some five or so minutes, Eriko decided that looking at herself was not going to tell her the answer and continued on home. Since Quincy lived on the opposite side of the academy, she was running down the street next to one of its long border walls, and she was thinking about exactly what kind of school she went to.
Siren campus, as a whole, was massive. Containing the classrooms, the gymnasium, the library complex, auditorium, the outdoor auditorium, two fields, three fields, the "haunted" science/technology labs, the offices, the GCF (Global Communications Facility), a dorm for female live-in students and a separate dorm for all boys attending, and much more, the area required to house all of these and then surround it with a 7-foot high brick wall easily occupied a square mile.
Not just that, the potential education level that could be achieved was ranked as the highest in all of Sector 4, second place in all of ZION (lost to Sector 2), and eleventh worldwide. All the teachers and staff are skilled, with the oldest ones rumored to be international experts on their subject matter. The list of classes available was extremely diverse, with everything from atoms to ZION history covered. The most miraculous fact was that most of the costs for maintaining and upgrading the facilities were paid directly by Sectors 0 and 9. The only thing required was a relatively low starter price of 5000 ZEN a year. How could the homeland afford this, or even allow this? The question was not for her to answer, and she knew it. Let ZION deal with it.
However, there were sounds and smoke coming from the campus. It seemed that something peculiar was happening at the eastern entrance. Strange, no one should be here because of the rain and because it's summer, Eriko thought to herself. She decided to go check it out. Hell, she could spare a few minutes. Her mother wouldn't notice and couldn't care less if she did. Without another thought, she hurried towards Siren's eastern gate.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Operation X: Challenge
"Soul Opera is by far the greatest game ever made."
"Even critics from around the globe have attested to the glory of such a technological wonder."
'...Using a combination of the best pseudo-electromagnetic software and compression systems, Soul Opera is the most vivid simulated program created, accomplishing itself as a full-scale real-time strategy game that allows the users to control the ingame AI with utmost precision, along with massive multiplayer capabilities. In fact, several tournaments are held annually between assembled teams in the full Soul Opera, skilled individuals in one-on-one mech contests named Concerto, and a down-graded version of SO for beginners named Sonata. It is by far the largest and most popular worldwide online game ever made."
Sector Seven Live Updates Channel
"Those tournaments in the full SO just happen to be the largest attractions in the entertainment district of Sector Seven. The spectators for even a low-level match fill entire stadiums just to watch the event on a MegaScreen. Banners, commercials, signs, trinkets, and more, the popularity for the sport spread like wildfire after its debut. The craziest of fanatics have dedicated their lives solely to support their favorite teams.
"When I was forced; no, invited to join the ranks of the Conductors behind the scenes, I thought there was no way I could make it. The power and glory, I couldn't grasp such a concept physically or mentally. I was only Mot, the silent, insignificant guy in the back of the classroom. I had my place, not by my choice but because it was given to me. My appearance, my grades, my act, my lack of social interaction, and several other factors made it impossible for me to go to any other spot.
"But now, I am a new person. Outside the classroom, I am no longer silent, nor am I irrelevant anymore. I have a new name and a new face. I am Rave, the commander. The revolutionary leader and the matchless soldier. Reputation is my armor, and my Operaboard is my sword and shield. With these tools, I have climbed to the top of the hill, and I am king. I am invincible-"
"Ahem," interrupted the attendant.
"This was just... a... it was... How long have you been here?" Rave sputtered.
"Quite some time. I had no intention of ruining your little speech there, but I have some news."
"And that is?"
"You have received a request. A challenger has appeared."
"Who?"
"No idea, sir, but whoever it is has a video for you. It should be in your inbox right about now."
Rave rushed to his Operaboard and checked his messages. Indeed there was a new string, but a sender was not specified. He knew who it was already. Rave opened the attached feed.
.
..
...Connected...
"Ah, it's good to see you again, Mot. Though, I should call you Rave, now, shouldn't I. Congratulations on first place in the league! I hope it hasn't gotten to your head. If it has, I'll be more than happy to fix that.
As your mentor and accomplice, I challenge you. A full match, a full fleet, everything. You may bring as many friends as you like. You will need them. If you don't want them, then I'll be more than happy to put them on standby. You have a week to decide the time and place, and the match will start the day after. Don't run away, now. (End Transmission.)
Friday, January 2, 2009
The Alliances
Throughout the story, a variety of different alliances will appear. These are their acronyms and a little overview. PS these are English titles, other names for them will appear later.
ZION (Zirech International Organization of Nations)
-Most of former Europe and other scattered countries rallied under the Zirech, a political party
LAA (Land-based Asian Alliance)
-Like the title, except for small coastal countries
SAA (Sea-based Asian Alliance)
-Like the title, including small coastal countries
WUN (Western Union of Nations)
-Most of the former states of the dissolved US, some were absorbed by neighbors and others didn't join
NSC (North-South Coalition)
-The Republic of Antarctica, Greenland, the islands north of Russia, and Australia
SEC (Southern Entity of Continents)
-The continents of South America and Africa together
Disk
-An alliance consisting of several nations, territories, and political bodies around the equator
Note: does NOT include all countries along the equator
PEPR (Peace and Prosperity)
-The acronym for the macro-sectors as a country
ZION (Zirech International Organization of Nations)
-Most of former Europe and other scattered countries rallied under the Zirech, a political party
LAA (Land-based Asian Alliance)
-Like the title, except for small coastal countries
SAA (Sea-based Asian Alliance)
-Like the title, including small coastal countries
WUN (Western Union of Nations)
-Most of the former states of the dissolved US, some were absorbed by neighbors and others didn't join
NSC (North-South Coalition)
-The Republic of Antarctica, Greenland, the islands north of Russia, and Australia
SEC (Southern Entity of Continents)
-The continents of South America and Africa together
Disk
-An alliance consisting of several nations, territories, and political bodies around the equator
Note: does NOT include all countries along the equator
PEPR (Peace and Prosperity)
-The acronym for the macro-sectors as a country
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Oops, Forgot Some
More Random Info
-Sector 6 lies on large beds of compressed oxygen. Combined with the slightly hostile nature of its people and their weapon caches, this sector poses a serious combustibility problem and houses enough firepower to completely eliminate Peace and Prosperity.
-Sector 7 is the home to Highwire HQ. Highwire is the leading producer of pseudo-electromagnetic goods and other electronic devices. This makes Sector 7 the most prosperous sector ever.
-Pseudo-electromagnetism is created through the use of two new elements: aerium and noraon. This new form of energy produces effects like electromagnetism, but it has a completely different spectrum and form, requiring different measurements and standards. In equal amounts, electromagnetism always wins against pseudo-electromagnetism.
-The refugees in Sector 5 refuse to be evacuated for unknown reasons.
-The inhabitants of Sector 0 are very proud to know that they are or are descended from the first settlers in Peace or Prosperity.
-Sectors 2 and 3 have united in several aspects too hard to explain, and have created a bridge connecting the two at all time in addition to the other transportation available.
-Originally, Peace was the title of Sector 0, and Prosperity was the title for Sector 9. The sectors were not numbered until 2585.
-Sector 9 is the only sector known to have active reserves of aerium and noraon.
-These two elements received their names based on the places they were discovered: aerium from Aeolis, and noraon from Norae.
-ZION has yet to publish an official statement concerning the motives for establishing Peace and Prosperity.
Hope you enjoy the excerpts!
-Sector 6 lies on large beds of compressed oxygen. Combined with the slightly hostile nature of its people and their weapon caches, this sector poses a serious combustibility problem and houses enough firepower to completely eliminate Peace and Prosperity.
-Sector 7 is the home to Highwire HQ. Highwire is the leading producer of pseudo-electromagnetic goods and other electronic devices. This makes Sector 7 the most prosperous sector ever.
-Pseudo-electromagnetism is created through the use of two new elements: aerium and noraon. This new form of energy produces effects like electromagnetism, but it has a completely different spectrum and form, requiring different measurements and standards. In equal amounts, electromagnetism always wins against pseudo-electromagnetism.
-The refugees in Sector 5 refuse to be evacuated for unknown reasons.
-The inhabitants of Sector 0 are very proud to know that they are or are descended from the first settlers in Peace or Prosperity.
-Sectors 2 and 3 have united in several aspects too hard to explain, and have created a bridge connecting the two at all time in addition to the other transportation available.
-Originally, Peace was the title of Sector 0, and Prosperity was the title for Sector 9. The sectors were not numbered until 2585.
-Sector 9 is the only sector known to have active reserves of aerium and noraon.
-These two elements received their names based on the places they were discovered: aerium from Aeolis, and noraon from Norae.
-ZION has yet to publish an official statement concerning the motives for establishing Peace and Prosperity.
Hope you enjoy the excerpts!
Peace and Prosperity
There'll be a lot of problems for readers if I don't say this: all my work is completely made-up and there is no information on it on the web. Just clearing that up, followup below.
The story is set in the future, the far future. Although the continents look generally the same, several man-made islands and other structures have been made to compensate for the growing global population. One of these places is Peace and Prosperity, an exceedingly large set of territories set off by ZION, one of many international alliances established to prevent the absorption of smaller, weaker nations, and settle intercontinental disputes.
Peace and Prosperity is divided up into ten sectors, numbered 0 through 9, and into two macro-sectors. 0 to 4 make up the first macro-sector Peace, and 5 to 9 make the second, Prosperity.
Each have their own respective characteristics, people, and circumstances. Here is a short overview of all ten. BTW all of Prosperity is underground, directly under Peace.
Peace
Sector 0- The first sector established and the head of all international affairs.
Sector 1- The former nation of Soraton, now fallen into a civil war with no known motives.
Sector 2- The school compound, a sector devoted to the education and protection of the pupils.
Sector 3- The aboveground residential extension of Sector 7, now called Renham.
Sector 4- The "Dynasty" Sector, a general sector now feeling the tug of war from Sector 1.
Prosperity
Sector 5- The refugee camp made of escapees from its respective other above.
Sector 6- The "Rebel's" Sector filled with miscellaneous fugitives from other sectors.
Sector 7- The most technologically advanced sector, once a branch of Sector 9.
Sector 8- The medical sector lovingly dubbed "The Ward".
Sector 9- The second sector established and the head of all domestic affairs.
Other Information
-Being an official, recognized sector gives the area and its citizens considerable rights and power.
-Sector 6 contains "Gateway", the fastest transportational system available. Nevertheless, conventional transportation is available to and from all sectors.
-Sector 7 is one of the few producers of pseudo-electromagnetic products.
-Despite its close proximity to Sector 1, Sector 2 remains scot-free of damage.
-The war in Sector 1 is rarely reported because no information ever makes it out.
The story is set in the future, the far future. Although the continents look generally the same, several man-made islands and other structures have been made to compensate for the growing global population. One of these places is Peace and Prosperity, an exceedingly large set of territories set off by ZION, one of many international alliances established to prevent the absorption of smaller, weaker nations, and settle intercontinental disputes.
Peace and Prosperity is divided up into ten sectors, numbered 0 through 9, and into two macro-sectors. 0 to 4 make up the first macro-sector Peace, and 5 to 9 make the second, Prosperity.
Each have their own respective characteristics, people, and circumstances. Here is a short overview of all ten. BTW all of Prosperity is underground, directly under Peace.
Peace
Sector 0- The first sector established and the head of all international affairs.
Sector 1- The former nation of Soraton, now fallen into a civil war with no known motives.
Sector 2- The school compound, a sector devoted to the education and protection of the pupils.
Sector 3- The aboveground residential extension of Sector 7, now called Renham.
Sector 4- The "Dynasty" Sector, a general sector now feeling the tug of war from Sector 1.
Prosperity
Sector 5- The refugee camp made of escapees from its respective other above.
Sector 6- The "Rebel's" Sector filled with miscellaneous fugitives from other sectors.
Sector 7- The most technologically advanced sector, once a branch of Sector 9.
Sector 8- The medical sector lovingly dubbed "The Ward".
Sector 9- The second sector established and the head of all domestic affairs.
Other Information
-Being an official, recognized sector gives the area and its citizens considerable rights and power.
-Sector 6 contains "Gateway", the fastest transportational system available. Nevertheless, conventional transportation is available to and from all sectors.
-Sector 7 is one of the few producers of pseudo-electromagnetic products.
-Despite its close proximity to Sector 1, Sector 2 remains scot-free of damage.
-The war in Sector 1 is rarely reported because no information ever makes it out.
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