"Why can't they go away!? All they do is hurt people!"
"Alien sonsa b*tches! Let the Heroes and Vanguard burn em all, God'll sort 'em out!"
Arkady winced as he ran down the street. Thy sky was green, the warwalls were down, so many people in a panic headed for cover. He heard so many thoughts that no one had time to speak, or... were they his own?
"Charles? Oh my god, Charles! Nooo!"
"But mommy, we left Rex! We can't leave him!"
The blow to his mind was two-fold the usual. Sure he was used to white noise, to a sea of thoughts left unmentionable or mundane, but now? Not a one thought wasn't anger, sadness, or horror. Even as he fought off the intense headache he herded people toward the shelters, used his telepathy, zoned in on the messages he heard to find those left behind or hidden in spots that weren't quite as safe.
Focus... "I... I... AAAH!" Arkady! Focus... This is you, this is-- "I can't die like this, my wife, my kids, how could I do such a thing to them? I barely knew this woman, I thought I..." ARKADY!
"Arkady! Get out of the street!" He stumbled past a speeding car, yanked aside by an invisible force, that familiar voice finally one spoken, one that soothed him.
"Ekaterina? I..." He fell back against the wall, barely able to focus in time to catch her... off again, herding more families beneath an impenetrable field, invisible to the naked eye, but there nonetheless. He drew in a deep breath and steadied himself, the all too familiar sound of Rikti portals piercing at his ear over the distant sounds of Dropships attempting to vaporize one hero or another during their bombing runs.
He gripped at his temples, eyes narrowing on the two or three portals that dropped near him, like lightning striking hard pavement. Instantly he felt the seering heat of plasma missing him, turning the very air into a volatile mixture, the scent all too familiar, ozone gas.
"Birth Body: Sighted; Mission: Seek and Destroy!"
Arkady could never get used to that, and didn't plan on trying to at that particular moment in time. His instinct kicked in, his body thrown to avoid a blast and roll to a stand before the last citizen within range, a barrier between that person and the shelter door behind him. He'd give the man time to get in, and wouldn't move from this spot until then.
His mind focused on the small group infront of him. Guardian, Conscript, Drone, Headman Gunner... check. In an instant his telepathy kicked in. Even to the drone, entirely inorganic, the advanced AI played to it's disadvantage. Friends became enemies, enemies became friends. Plasma fired not at Arkady, but at one another in a huddle of chaos. He heard the drone burn and rupture in a brilliant fireball, saw the Guardian hit the street, the Headman crawling toward the sidewalk, it's armor not but paper for the blast it had taken. Where was the conscript?
Then he felt it, and winced. The Shelter door slammed shut behind him, his vision became an instant blur as his entire torso was on fire, burning with pain. Letting out a soft breath, he felt his knees hit the pavement and then...
"Sir? Are you alright?"
The nurse seemed eerily calm, and Arkady took a moment to eye himself. He was uninjured, perhaps alittle sore. Medbadge... it had saved him again, he'd lost count of just how many times. His eyes fell on the nurse and he nodded, but her attention was on the doctor, who'd dropped his pen in a rush for the door.
"Has he been working out? Amazed he finds time in all this mess..."
Another day, another thought Arkady simply didn't want to hear. And all he could do was laugh to himself.
Life During Wartime - Issue 10 Interludes
Moderator: Student Council
Green sky. Walls down. Falling bombs, shaking the city. Drop ships overhead.
He could almost hear their voices, at the edge of his psychic hearing. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. The world around him stilled. He could almost understand them. Almost.
He felt the presence behind him again. He turned, blinking open his eyes.
He saw the Rikti who had saved Simon.
He saw his father.
Toby's eyes bolted open and he sat up abruptly. He looked around in the darkness. He could hear the soft snores of his roommates. He was in his dorm room, in his bed. On campus. Safe.
He laid back down and closed his eyes. He'd been having dreams every night about his father, ever since he'd become a Peacebringer. He could feel that it had changed his psychic abilities. His telekinesis was all but gone. He couldn't work with other people's minds very much unless he was in close proximity, though he was pretty certain that once he'd linked in he'd be able to maintain a connection. Not that that'd help him much. Most enemies didn't invite you to come up and hook into their heads so that you could step back and disable them from a safe distance, he though wryly.
But he felt he'd gained something psychic, too. These dreams weren't just dreams. They had a quality of almost prescient symbolic truth to them.
He'd had a few dreams of the Rikti home world, vague dreams that didn't linger long.
He knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do. Nobody would like it much, but he had to. Had to find out, had to try to save him if he could.
But first, he'd need to tie up a few loose ends. He'd made some commitments he'd have to address, since he'd be breaking them. He'd have to tell his family and friends something, so they'd not worry quite as much. He quietly crept out of bed, gathered up some paper, a pen, and his costume, then snuck out into the night. He had some letters to write.
And then, he'd have to find a portal.
He could almost hear their voices, at the edge of his psychic hearing. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. The world around him stilled. He could almost understand them. Almost.
He felt the presence behind him again. He turned, blinking open his eyes.
He saw the Rikti who had saved Simon.
He saw his father.
Toby's eyes bolted open and he sat up abruptly. He looked around in the darkness. He could hear the soft snores of his roommates. He was in his dorm room, in his bed. On campus. Safe.
He laid back down and closed his eyes. He'd been having dreams every night about his father, ever since he'd become a Peacebringer. He could feel that it had changed his psychic abilities. His telekinesis was all but gone. He couldn't work with other people's minds very much unless he was in close proximity, though he was pretty certain that once he'd linked in he'd be able to maintain a connection. Not that that'd help him much. Most enemies didn't invite you to come up and hook into their heads so that you could step back and disable them from a safe distance, he though wryly.
But he felt he'd gained something psychic, too. These dreams weren't just dreams. They had a quality of almost prescient symbolic truth to them.
He'd had a few dreams of the Rikti home world, vague dreams that didn't linger long.
He knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do. Nobody would like it much, but he had to. Had to find out, had to try to save him if he could.
But first, he'd need to tie up a few loose ends. He'd made some commitments he'd have to address, since he'd be breaking them. He'd have to tell his family and friends something, so they'd not worry quite as much. He quietly crept out of bed, gathered up some paper, a pen, and his costume, then snuck out into the night. He had some letters to write.
And then, he'd have to find a portal.
-
Karakuriya
- Posts: 966
- Joined: Sun Dec 10, 2006 10:41 pm
- Location: girls' quad 5
- Contact:
Zero Factor
(These events actually occurred on 24 July 2007.)
The organic market clerk was handing her change back for granola bars, blueberries, and halvah when the ground rumbled faintly. Aeon turned to look out the store’s front windows to see the people of New Overbrook slow their pace and turn their faces to peer at the ominously darkening sky. She pushed her way past the other shoppers to get a look for herself, and there was another boom, closer this time.
She shouldered her pack, breaking into a run toward Skyway City. Traffic was slowing to a halt, drivers craning to look behind them, others honking, eager to get home, or just simply away. She wove through the cars, sprinting up the highway to where, beyond the war walls--rather, where the war walls should have been--the sky had turned a sickly yellow.
The streets were a chaos of running, yelling, and rushing vehicles as she made for the center of the zone, the barrage of stimuli falling off the edges of her combat drug-induced tunnel vision. Her proprioception faded away; she was only hero now. The school comm. channel was filled with a stunned silence; then, suddenly twenty voices crackling over one another, calling friends' names, asking what was going on.
The air next to her exploded and her arms automatically moved to shield her head; but, feet over head, she was tumbling, rolling away shoulder over shoulder, backpack lost. The booming echoed, retreating, as she lay stunned in the street, her uniform shredded, skin split and oozing. She sat up, surveyed the street and the crater nearby. Most everything, being lighter, had been thrown much farther and was in significantly worse shape. She was missing quite a lot of skin though, she realized, pinching some of the cuts together to re-knit the polymer and keep her blood on the inside. She wouldn't be much good to anyone for very long if she was hurt herself.
Finding her backpack fifty feet away, she dug through the purple mess for her extra skin patches. One for her cheek that she had left on the pavement. Two for her palms as she slid. Three for her right thigh and calf that had faced the bomb naked. Four for her knees and elbows, full of gravel. Also in the bag were some blueberry covered emergency MedEvac tags she normally used for hostage evacuations. There was no time for protocol.
A few shell-shocked pedestrians were soon whisked away to the local hospital, but many were now barely recognizable as having once been human. By the time she was out of tags, the injured were being reclaimed more slowly, and then rebounded by the system altogether. She tried to take their names, to let someone know they were injured, should room open up. Something told her it wouldn't be happening any time soon.
The comm. was filled with orders to gather all students in the cafeteria for a headcount and the coordination of those still in the field, resisting, searching for others, or trapped themselves. Now horrified yells that portals were opening at the main hubs of infrastructure in each zone, and through them came Rikti. Thousands. They were back. And ready.
Once word spread and they were given time to mobilize, local heroes descended on the breached zones in droves. Block-wide arrays of blinding lights and deafening crackles of power bloomed and faded throughout Skyway City as new portals were intercepted and the invaders were cut down or driven away. Stretches of miles were laid waste with plasma burns by the end of a skirmish. But the worst was the bombs: catching civilians unaware, destroying homes and transit ways, their drop ships nearly invulnerable--heroes falling from their hulls like flies from poison.
Hours later, when the first wave of the first strike had subsided, Aeon was still in the field: in Atlas Park, at the city hall, standing in an ever-growing line to apply for security clearance. It seemed everyone able was demanding access to Vanguard's declared warzone to take the fight out of the streets and to the front lines, to end the Rikti threat forever.
She was completely dazed, to be honest, euphoric sedatives pushing the anxiety down, allowing the adrenaline to bloom into a calm, reactive hero machine. She realized now how dead she'd felt from the first blast, feet carrying her along of their own volition. Come to think of it, she didn't even remember the first Rikti War, and she wondered why, but not too much. But she did remember to check in with some of the students--she wasn't sure who--to report that she was still accounted for and doing well.
New pin and ID card in hand, she stood pensively on the plaza-turned-triage station and lost-and-found. Security Level 35. She'd done it. This was it. The realization of what it entailed washed over her slowly in hot waves of apprehension. She, a mere high school girl, had just morally obligated herself to going to war...against the Rikti.
Her private emergency band chirped, then, the accompanying chemical cocktail, injected to ensure proper receipt of the transmission, making her suddenly very much aware. Of herself. Of her injuries. Of the shock of the invasion. Of her longing to feel a part of something larger. Of Project Daedalus, her purpose, and her fate.
"Oh, Violet, you poor thing. Are you quite alright? It looks like you got caught in the thick of it."
"I've been better." Her lip quivered, the old anxieties bubbling up. "Where have you been? I was in a coma for weeks. Did you send Sydney? Why'd he leave?"
The Boss Lady might have been perplexed, but it was difficult to tell from only the small video of her obscured face. "Violet, sweetie. God is testing us. We're attempting to move to collect Generation Beâtus, but the whole world is facing near apocalypse. We need you to fight. You are our treasure; I need you--Daedalus needs you to unlock your power and help protect us from these demons so we can gather the children to safety. Do you understand?"
She nodded numbly. "What about Sydney Ashe?"
The Boss Lady pursed her lips. "We're still unsure of his location. He's been rogue for some time--not an enemy, but--resistant to cooperation." She frowned slightly. "At the Atlas Park post office you'll find a package for you. Should you meet Ashe in the field, there is enclosed a letter for him. The rest is for you: a gift from Dr. Vosk and Crey for your efforts in their issue with the Freakshow."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"I appreciate the formal gesture, Violet, but we're all family here. We all care for you very much and wish you luck and God's protection. For the sake of your sisters and brothers and our home, please do not fail us."
"I'll do my best."
"I know you will, Violet." Her lips curled in a slightly menacing smile. "You must."
The organic market clerk was handing her change back for granola bars, blueberries, and halvah when the ground rumbled faintly. Aeon turned to look out the store’s front windows to see the people of New Overbrook slow their pace and turn their faces to peer at the ominously darkening sky. She pushed her way past the other shoppers to get a look for herself, and there was another boom, closer this time.
She shouldered her pack, breaking into a run toward Skyway City. Traffic was slowing to a halt, drivers craning to look behind them, others honking, eager to get home, or just simply away. She wove through the cars, sprinting up the highway to where, beyond the war walls--rather, where the war walls should have been--the sky had turned a sickly yellow.
The streets were a chaos of running, yelling, and rushing vehicles as she made for the center of the zone, the barrage of stimuli falling off the edges of her combat drug-induced tunnel vision. Her proprioception faded away; she was only hero now. The school comm. channel was filled with a stunned silence; then, suddenly twenty voices crackling over one another, calling friends' names, asking what was going on.
The air next to her exploded and her arms automatically moved to shield her head; but, feet over head, she was tumbling, rolling away shoulder over shoulder, backpack lost. The booming echoed, retreating, as she lay stunned in the street, her uniform shredded, skin split and oozing. She sat up, surveyed the street and the crater nearby. Most everything, being lighter, had been thrown much farther and was in significantly worse shape. She was missing quite a lot of skin though, she realized, pinching some of the cuts together to re-knit the polymer and keep her blood on the inside. She wouldn't be much good to anyone for very long if she was hurt herself.
Finding her backpack fifty feet away, she dug through the purple mess for her extra skin patches. One for her cheek that she had left on the pavement. Two for her palms as she slid. Three for her right thigh and calf that had faced the bomb naked. Four for her knees and elbows, full of gravel. Also in the bag were some blueberry covered emergency MedEvac tags she normally used for hostage evacuations. There was no time for protocol.
A few shell-shocked pedestrians were soon whisked away to the local hospital, but many were now barely recognizable as having once been human. By the time she was out of tags, the injured were being reclaimed more slowly, and then rebounded by the system altogether. She tried to take their names, to let someone know they were injured, should room open up. Something told her it wouldn't be happening any time soon.
The comm. was filled with orders to gather all students in the cafeteria for a headcount and the coordination of those still in the field, resisting, searching for others, or trapped themselves. Now horrified yells that portals were opening at the main hubs of infrastructure in each zone, and through them came Rikti. Thousands. They were back. And ready.
Once word spread and they were given time to mobilize, local heroes descended on the breached zones in droves. Block-wide arrays of blinding lights and deafening crackles of power bloomed and faded throughout Skyway City as new portals were intercepted and the invaders were cut down or driven away. Stretches of miles were laid waste with plasma burns by the end of a skirmish. But the worst was the bombs: catching civilians unaware, destroying homes and transit ways, their drop ships nearly invulnerable--heroes falling from their hulls like flies from poison.
Hours later, when the first wave of the first strike had subsided, Aeon was still in the field: in Atlas Park, at the city hall, standing in an ever-growing line to apply for security clearance. It seemed everyone able was demanding access to Vanguard's declared warzone to take the fight out of the streets and to the front lines, to end the Rikti threat forever.
She was completely dazed, to be honest, euphoric sedatives pushing the anxiety down, allowing the adrenaline to bloom into a calm, reactive hero machine. She realized now how dead she'd felt from the first blast, feet carrying her along of their own volition. Come to think of it, she didn't even remember the first Rikti War, and she wondered why, but not too much. But she did remember to check in with some of the students--she wasn't sure who--to report that she was still accounted for and doing well.
New pin and ID card in hand, she stood pensively on the plaza-turned-triage station and lost-and-found. Security Level 35. She'd done it. This was it. The realization of what it entailed washed over her slowly in hot waves of apprehension. She, a mere high school girl, had just morally obligated herself to going to war...against the Rikti.
Her private emergency band chirped, then, the accompanying chemical cocktail, injected to ensure proper receipt of the transmission, making her suddenly very much aware. Of herself. Of her injuries. Of the shock of the invasion. Of her longing to feel a part of something larger. Of Project Daedalus, her purpose, and her fate.
"Oh, Violet, you poor thing. Are you quite alright? It looks like you got caught in the thick of it."
"I've been better." Her lip quivered, the old anxieties bubbling up. "Where have you been? I was in a coma for weeks. Did you send Sydney? Why'd he leave?"
The Boss Lady might have been perplexed, but it was difficult to tell from only the small video of her obscured face. "Violet, sweetie. God is testing us. We're attempting to move to collect Generation Beâtus, but the whole world is facing near apocalypse. We need you to fight. You are our treasure; I need you--Daedalus needs you to unlock your power and help protect us from these demons so we can gather the children to safety. Do you understand?"
She nodded numbly. "What about Sydney Ashe?"
The Boss Lady pursed her lips. "We're still unsure of his location. He's been rogue for some time--not an enemy, but--resistant to cooperation." She frowned slightly. "At the Atlas Park post office you'll find a package for you. Should you meet Ashe in the field, there is enclosed a letter for him. The rest is for you: a gift from Dr. Vosk and Crey for your efforts in their issue with the Freakshow."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"I appreciate the formal gesture, Violet, but we're all family here. We all care for you very much and wish you luck and God's protection. For the sake of your sisters and brothers and our home, please do not fail us."
"I'll do my best."
"I know you will, Violet." Her lips curled in a slightly menacing smile. "You must."
"When we fall in love / We're just falling / In love with ourselves / We're spiraling" -- Keane, "Spiraling"
-
Storm Scream
- Cadet Colonel
- Posts: 896
- Joined: Mon Jun 18, 2007 6:31 am
- Location: Quad 13
- Contact:
Homefront...
Saint Joseph's School.
Like any other high school, lunch was a time to relax, eat, and not worry about class for an hour or so. People stood in line, waiting to go through and get their mystery meats and soups of the day. People were huddled in groups at their usual tables, the decibal level in the cafeteria almost deafening, discussions of the daily gossip and who was wearing what and who had got what score in Madden the night before...
Jessica groaned, rolling her eyes and leaning closer in to focus on the book in front of her. Pre-Calculus sucks...uggh... She looked up at the sound of a chuckle, frowning.
"Noah! Don't laugh! I don't understand ANY of this..."
Noah grinned from ear to ear, taking a bite of a roll. "That's why I'm not in that class..."
Jessica rolled her eyes. "Yeah well...when you're trying to get into an academy..." Jessica rubbed her temples, unable to concentrate. With a groan she dropped her head onto the book, pretending to cry. Noah just laughed more, then shivered when he noticed he could see his breath in the air. Jessica just giggled, and the temperature rose back to normal. "Sorry..." She lifted her head, reaching for her untouched tray and picking up the spork.
A paper sailed through the air, popping Jessica on top of the head and landing in her mashed potatoes.
"Dammit...what the hell..."
She picked up the paper, ready to throw it down on the ground when she recognized the writing. It was a Vanguard recruiting poster.
She slowly pulled it apart, straightening it out. There was a picture of the statue of liberty with white and red stripes behind it, waving like a flag in the wind. The Vanguard emblem was emblazoned at the top, and in large blue letters were printed the words "Earth for Humans!" Under that, in smaller letters, were the words "Let's keep it that way!"
But those words had been crossed out, and just under them were handwritten in a black permanent marker "Because no one else wants it!" Jessica's grip tightened on the paper, her jaw set, and a few stray strands of hair started to lift off her back as static built around her.
Noah looked over at the poster and chuckled, then stopped when he saw Jessica's face slowly growing pained. "Jessiy...it's a joke..."
But Jessica just shook her head. She closed her book, threw it in her back-pack, and got up off the table with a muttered "Call me..." to Noah as she walked towards the doors. She could hear a few kids snickering as she walked past, knowing full well that they were kids all sent from SERAPH or MAGI, all of them from other races, other planets. She ignored them, slamming open the door to the lunch room and storming out across the frozen quad towards the main campus.
The Rikti...why can't they understand that THAT'S the enemy, and not them... Jessica paused in the middle of the quad, fists clenched. Ever since she had been named the commander of the small CVC group at Saint Joe's, she had been the target of ridicule. She wiped a stray tear from her eye, shivering slightly in the cold air.
It had 5 months since the Rikti had returned in force. 5 months since Paragon was nearly wiped out in a large-scale, surgical strike. 5 months since many of the students here saw their fair share of death and destruction; of war. There had been casualties everywhere: Not just the humans, but even the off-worlders who had stood up to help protect against the Rikti. Why can't the realize that...
Jessica closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the cold winter air. Maybe someday they'll understand...
Like any other high school, lunch was a time to relax, eat, and not worry about class for an hour or so. People stood in line, waiting to go through and get their mystery meats and soups of the day. People were huddled in groups at their usual tables, the decibal level in the cafeteria almost deafening, discussions of the daily gossip and who was wearing what and who had got what score in Madden the night before...
Jessica groaned, rolling her eyes and leaning closer in to focus on the book in front of her. Pre-Calculus sucks...uggh... She looked up at the sound of a chuckle, frowning.
"Noah! Don't laugh! I don't understand ANY of this..."
Noah grinned from ear to ear, taking a bite of a roll. "That's why I'm not in that class..."
Jessica rolled her eyes. "Yeah well...when you're trying to get into an academy..." Jessica rubbed her temples, unable to concentrate. With a groan she dropped her head onto the book, pretending to cry. Noah just laughed more, then shivered when he noticed he could see his breath in the air. Jessica just giggled, and the temperature rose back to normal. "Sorry..." She lifted her head, reaching for her untouched tray and picking up the spork.
A paper sailed through the air, popping Jessica on top of the head and landing in her mashed potatoes.
"Dammit...what the hell..."
She picked up the paper, ready to throw it down on the ground when she recognized the writing. It was a Vanguard recruiting poster.
She slowly pulled it apart, straightening it out. There was a picture of the statue of liberty with white and red stripes behind it, waving like a flag in the wind. The Vanguard emblem was emblazoned at the top, and in large blue letters were printed the words "Earth for Humans!" Under that, in smaller letters, were the words "Let's keep it that way!"
But those words had been crossed out, and just under them were handwritten in a black permanent marker "Because no one else wants it!" Jessica's grip tightened on the paper, her jaw set, and a few stray strands of hair started to lift off her back as static built around her.
Noah looked over at the poster and chuckled, then stopped when he saw Jessica's face slowly growing pained. "Jessiy...it's a joke..."
But Jessica just shook her head. She closed her book, threw it in her back-pack, and got up off the table with a muttered "Call me..." to Noah as she walked towards the doors. She could hear a few kids snickering as she walked past, knowing full well that they were kids all sent from SERAPH or MAGI, all of them from other races, other planets. She ignored them, slamming open the door to the lunch room and storming out across the frozen quad towards the main campus.
The Rikti...why can't they understand that THAT'S the enemy, and not them... Jessica paused in the middle of the quad, fists clenched. Ever since she had been named the commander of the small CVC group at Saint Joe's, she had been the target of ridicule. She wiped a stray tear from her eye, shivering slightly in the cold air.
It had 5 months since the Rikti had returned in force. 5 months since Paragon was nearly wiped out in a large-scale, surgical strike. 5 months since many of the students here saw their fair share of death and destruction; of war. There had been casualties everywhere: Not just the humans, but even the off-worlders who had stood up to help protect against the Rikti. Why can't the realize that...
Jessica closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the cold winter air. Maybe someday they'll understand...
-
Double-Cross
- Posts: 133
- Joined: Wed Oct 31, 2007 11:31 am
- Location: Paragon City
Re: Life During Wartime - Issue 10 Interludes
Noah didn't realize how bothered Jess was until she was leaving the lunchroom. Watching her leave knowing she was upset was enough to get him riled. When he saw a couple kids snickering at her as she walked by, and the door slam behind her, it was enough. Noah got up from the table and headed towards the kids.
The kids were still sitting when Noah grabbed one of them by the hair pulling him backwards and off balance. Noah put his finger right in the kids face, "Don't even think about pulling some shit like that again!"
"Al...alright man...it was just a joke" The kids said trying not to fall backwards
"I wont say it again" Noah said with a quiet kind of rage, "Next time, you'll be eating lunch through a straw"
Noah pushed the kid forward back into his seat. He pointed to the other kid too, just to acknowledge him before heading out of the cafeteria to find Jess.
The kids were still sitting when Noah grabbed one of them by the hair pulling him backwards and off balance. Noah put his finger right in the kids face, "Don't even think about pulling some shit like that again!"
"Al...alright man...it was just a joke" The kids said trying not to fall backwards
"I wont say it again" Noah said with a quiet kind of rage, "Next time, you'll be eating lunch through a straw"
Noah pushed the kid forward back into his seat. He pointed to the other kid too, just to acknowledge him before heading out of the cafeteria to find Jess.