Archive for October, 2009

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Intransigent Part 1

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Sci-Fi on October 12, 2009 by GuNNhead

There exists a planet, Thértuu, deep within the Torinadul system whose relationships with its moons are a rare micro-solar system on their own. While the planets in this solar system all attain their light and some heat from the large yet weak sun they orbit, the fifth planet from the sun is composed primarily of lava and magma. The heat generated from this planet supported life on its four orbiting moons.

This relationship lasted for eons in perfect harmony, until the inhabitants began to detect a globalized warming of the planet. This giant ball of liquid rock was becoming unstable. In what appeared to all to be a good idea at the time, it was decided that the united moons would bombard Thértuu with a chain of permafrost ebullations, creating a solid-force extrusive igneous rock. This chain did indeed create a sort of rock-net, cooling the planet and thusly averting possible disaster; it would no longer be in danger of exploding. However, the magma reacted violently and unexpectedly, a severe splash back occurred, killing all life on two of the orbiting satellites. Entire histories, lost, worlds burnt to ash.

This was long ago. I’ve traced Celrdrrun, the vile pirate snake, to the sun-planet Thértuu. He thinks he can escape me, but none are able to escape me, especially after what he thought he could do. This is the first being to exceedingly earn the fate that I have come to bestow. I may not have had the omega surge suit long, but I will find a way: when I find him, I will destroy every last molecule of his existence.

I arrive on the trail of his signal, and send my craft into orbit. As I walk towards the origin of the trace, volcanic bombs litter the air, chunks of magma that become launched into the air, increase in number. He knew I was tracing him: just as I suspected. I’ve been looking forward to this: The final clash. I must inflict upon him the most truthful experience that life has to offer: Death.

I’m sure of myself, my purpose and actions; perhaps too sure. I run at him as immediately as I acquire his location amongst the cinders. I jump and attempt to kick him, but my attitude was not in the right place, I’m being reckless. Idiot. He grabs my kick mid-air, I lash out, attempt a reversal spin kick: he grabs my other foot: crushes it, sets me alight with paralytic flame, and slams my body into the ground. Repeatedly. Still almost twice my skill, intelligent, brilliantly insane. He exudes the atmosphere of a man obsessed by his work. Beams fire from the eyes of my helmet, injure his grasp, and he throws me hard into the rock. I can eliminate him. I know it. Getting up. Get up. Getting up, I extend my arms to charge the Graviton Destroyer, but he’s too fast, my arms in his claws. Forearms being crushed, carapace splintering, I grab onto his arms, and spin, launching him into the air. That toss alone will not send him into the fiery rivers. In an attempt to ensure his death in the magma, I fire an energy sphere at him haphazardly. The damage done to my forearms from his vicegrip causes them to splinter; energy recoil shoots up both arms along the cracks. The blast sends him flying over a break in the crust: then accursedly allows him to overshoot his possible scorching demise. He lands upon an embankment of solid rock: only magma exists between us now; below all my burning hatred.

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One Traveller

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi, Uncategorized on October 9, 2009 by GuNNhead

There has to be the appropriate amount of mundane to balance out the fateful occurrences, so that, during the course of our lives, we can eventually learn to decipher these random happenstances, and manipulate them to craft our own fateful paths. Because, without the mundane being in perfect balance, we could not see these opportunities, taking them for granted, and not seeing the beauty in all happenings.

This passageway of thought, at least, is what fate has crafted out for me.

In the end, where do our thoughts come from? Simply from inside ourselves? But how can we say that, when an entire life of these fateful happenstances have crafted out personalities, our ways of thoughts, our modes of thinking, and even, our very existence?

We must take action; seize these opportunities as they present themselves (if they fit our current life goals). Though, if we do not, that simply crafts another path for fate to shape our lives towards.

All this is almost to say that there is no choice in life, but just barely. You see, we can’t control our own thoughts; it is merely fate’s illusion of control. We must allow ourselves to see the strings between the thin gossamer of reality. Take hold of them. These thoughts we have, our dreams, and how they translate to our every day actions, this is what we can feel in control of. All things will happen in their own time.

For example: Let’s say that you have somewhere to be. Fate will not see to it that you arrive there; you must put forth that effort. Fate is always willing to help aid you in the path it wants you to arrive in, it wants the best for you, to see you be your best, but it does need your help. Now, to get to this meeting, you have to get ready, get out of the house, and hope everything else works out, bus, car, walking, etc. If something goes wrong, take it as a lesson, any kind of lesson will do. Think positive. Are there some really slow people in front of you, doddering idiots with no concept of other people or how paths operate? Maybe it’s time to take a deep breath, and realize patience truly is a virtue. Being 5 minutes late is not the end of the world, but maybe rushing across that yellow light will be the end of yours.

There are lessons in every moment of life, as long as you are LIVING it, and not letting it pass you by. Learn something new every day, even if it’s simply learning to wait for that little green light to light up and allow you to move. Because, in this very simple action, you are acknowledging fate. At this red light, you acknowledge that fate has brought you, brought everyone to this single point. The math that goes into timing every one of these lights across the city, to ensure the best traffic flow possible, though sometimes it may not feel like it from your particular standpoint. The relatively recent invention of electricity; the possibility of reading these writings. The relatively recent metropolis you live in, the ability to have skyscrapers. This is all new and amazing technology. Think of all the hours that real people put into working on every aspect you see around you, the networks of wires under the ground, or the vehicles. Progress.

All of human history has led up to the current moment that you are now living in. Take it in.

However, one must also realize that this, everything, is transitory. Be happy in all of your fleeting moments, spread joy to others. Thank you.

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Cat Fight

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Legends of the Primal Energy on October 7, 2009 by GuNNhead

In the world of Wealdland, there exists much more than those who battle only for the power spoken of in the Legends of the Primal Energy. There are people who have magicks outside of that, kingdoms and wars, untouched by the hero Firedrake, or his vengeful brother Icemarrow. The battles between the Goddess and Ahriman are still but distant and budding tales here, in the warring kingdoms of Darpol and Raugai.

This battle is not over land, but over a woman; a Princess to be exact. Though, this princess was soon to be Queen, and was to unite these two Kingdoms, but her husband to be, the great warrior Thuramen was murdered in his sleep the night before the wedding. None knows by whom, the only witness being the Princess’s cat. With no suitor able to bring a united decision to fruition, be determined as an acceptable alternative to the deceased Thuramen, a battle was to be waged.

Days have now past. Dust and sand fills the battlefield in gusts of winds. The approaching armies come nearer to their mutual demise at each others swords. Each side believes they are in the right, and will fight to their death to prove such a thing. None are more patriotic than these men, who believe in their Kingdom’s power and entitlement over all others.

Suddenly, a beam of light lands in the center of the battleground, the armies stop fighting. The Princess steps out of the bean glowing in a radiant light as a simultaneously occurring downpour soaks the opposing armies. The Princess is weeping.
“I’ve lost my cat. He’s nowhere to be found,” she chokes on her teary words, “he was the only one to comfort me in the time of Thuramen’s passing, instead of bickering over who would take his place. I loved him! And now Malek is lost! You will all find him or I will surely die of heart loss!”

The cat really did mean a lot to the girl, he was the sign of her and Thuramen’s bond between each other. The armies stunned by the Princess’ outburst of magicks beyond her age, took to looking for Malek. The Princess’ cat, which they had reason to worry, that may have been a reincarnation of the prince, or some fort of evil familiar, a bad omen.

When they found the cat, it was in the closing act of killing the castle church’s priest. They ran to stop it, but it was far too late. It had escaped into the night.

A note was left, from Thuramen, saying that his spirit was taken from his body and placed into the cat by an evil sorcerer, the priest, who would seek to claim the kingdom as his own after the battle sorted out the strongest warriors among them for his own armies. Also lost with the sorcerer’s life, however, was Thuramen’s body: the priest had intended to it make his own; both it and the old man’s bodies burned to ash in a magical fire.
And so, Thuramen, forever cursed to be trapped in that, chubby, rolly cat’s body, could no longer bear to be around the life he once knew. He resigned himself to wander to lands for eternity, knowing it would be for the betterment of all Kingdoms to believe that he had died.

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Planet Bug Part 4

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi on October 5, 2009 by GuNNhead

In the morning, he walks back to the large tree without my lenses.
“Finally,” he says to himself. “I can eat.” He believes my stomach grumbles in anticipation.
He launches one of the sticks at a hanging fruit. After a few attempts, he hits a fruit with a ‘thuck’ sound and it falls in his awaiting hands. The large, yellow gourd-like fruit looks ripe, delicious. The juice is dripping out of it tantalizingly, and he cannot wait to take his first bite. He knows he will savor the flavor, and chew it for a long time before swallowing. He slowly brings the fruit to his mouth, and prepares for the first bite.

“Woah, hey, you’re not gonna eat it that just like that are you?” says an armored man from yards away.
“What?” he replies, surprised to hear a voice, only understanding what was said a second later. “I was, yes.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t. I mean, I don’t recommend that at all.”
“Why? I don’t think I have to worry about poisons…”
“It’s not poisonous, per se, but I’d recommend taking the peel off first.”
“Oh…” He impatiently removes the thin peel. I quickly see that it’s not a fruit at all. There’s a two-foot long scorpion-like creature inside, surrounded by a thick, juicy, viscous, yellow fluid. It’s limp, and bleeding the same color fluid that it is surrounded by, the stick still pierced through its center, and doesn’t seem alive; he drops it.

“Hah, I don’t know how you got here, old sport, but there’s plenty of time for that later.” He pauses. “Don’t worry too much though, while the poison inside that little bugger could kill you, you’d not be able to eat enough of it before you succumb to paralysis, it’s intended for much larger creatures to eat whole, where their stomach acids bring it to life, and it eats them from the inside out.” He pauses the think once more, and continues “But, eating aside, if I am correct to assume that that’s your doing,” He points at the large cave, with smoke billowing out of it. “I know what’s in that cave, what’d you use to do that? Some sort of energy launcher, missiles?”
“… Fire.”
The fully armored man stares in disbelief, a large gun at his side, another, larger weapon strapped to his back.
“Well, good job then, because seeing that smoke got me interested enough to come see what caused it for myself! Either way, you’re lucky to be alive, I have a shuttle just over yonder; we were about to leave this wretched planet, before I saw the smoke of course. Do you want to leave with us, go to the Orbiter?”
“If the only other choice is staying here, then, yes.”
“Let us go then.”

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Planet Bug Part 3

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi on October 2, 2009 by GuNNhead

Not knowing the planet, he’s not sure if it’d be safer inside or outside of the cave in the case of an earthquake, so he starts slowly walking out of the cave, wishing his suit was repaired enough to do a tectonic scan. He’s fairly deep inside the cave, but the more he walks out, the stronger the vibrations get. He hears a rumbling coming from inside the cave. Thinking it to be a cave-in, he starts running for the exit. His foot gets caught on the soft ground near, tripping him up enough that the origin of the sound catches up to his position.

In one direction he can see the light of the entrance, illuminated by the fire. In the other direction, however, it is much, much more horrific than he fathomed. A mountain that was within the cave is bearing down on top of him. A giant funnel web spider has come from his depths, disturbed and enticed by the man’s disturbing vibrations upon its web. A smackerel of food wandering into its trap, it comes for him. Every move he makes, it can sense, but there’s nothing he can do, it knows exactly where he is, it can hone in on every breath, every heart beat. He stands for not but a second, then sprints for the exit with everything he’s got. It quickly maneuvers and strikes, fangs digging into calves, sending him tumbling further toward the exit. He swings his wrapped branch, hitting its massive, hulking exoskeletal armor. The spider does not even realize it was attacked, and hones in again for the kill. He swings again, nailing it directly in the center of one of its eight eyes. It strikes again out of anger before recoiling in pain, missing, and sending the man even closer to the exit; despite its size, the eyes are incredibly vulnerable. He notices the fire nearby, and lights the make-shift torch, and aims for another of its eyes.

He throws the entire lit torch; his shot is sure and true. The spider ducks, and the torch goes soaring over its head, majestically missing its intended target by meters. Though, with a lot of luck, the flame hits a soft spot on its back. The part it hit starts moving, violently; it’s caught fire, and catches the surroundings ablaze. Soon the man realizes what he hit. This spider on this planet carries its young on its back, and he hit one of the many young, setting it ablaze, which then set others ablaze. They scurry, leaving the mother, and heading to the safety of the inner web. The rest of the old, dry web catches like wildfire. The giant mother doesn’t know what to do, sent into a panic, she begins wavering back and forth, hitting the sides of the walls, and rocking the cave. Her actions crush the remaining clutches still attached to her back, some of their blood and guts puts out parts of the flame, but it is of no use, it’s all happening too fast, and she catches fire herself. She too now retreats to the back of the cave, only to meet her burning end in a giant fiery mess. The man can only watch, seeing only familiarity within death. Nothing survived in that cave, save for him. He walks out with it still blazing behind me.

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