By Sh33p, CultofSh33p@aol.com
The great sequal of New Age. It'll knock your socks off. Tim Seltzer, seltzer@seltzerbooks.com
Sh33p Disclaimer: I don`t own Zoids. Consider this disclaimer valid for the whole damn story :P
Foreword:For each scene, in this order:
Zoids - Childhood Memories(if ya got it, if ya don`t or can`t find it:
Hack Sign - Smallest Delight)
Hack Sign - Fake Wings(Bittersweet Version, or the regular if you don`t
have it or can`t find it)
ShakkaZombie - Siroi Yami no Naka
Blue Man Group - Sing Along
Gorillaz - Clint Eastwood Linkin Park - Opening(for the last quarter
of the chapter. All of it)
There was a dulled warmth on her back as her sight began to return. The heat was only slight considering that the desert terrain of Zi tended to rather chilly at night, but the dryness itched at her lips like a mosquito bite. Her feet were sore, the sand grinding beneath them made it hard to walk straight without having to overcompensate for the shift that every step made, causing a similar ache in her legs. She had no idea how long she had been walking, but it felt like her brain had been bathed in novacaine.
["Did... It work?"
"You`ll know soon after you wake up."]
A small groan was the only sound she made, raising a hand to her head. It felt like a lifetime had dropped by like a brick being thrown out of an open window and falling in front of a 360* chain of photo cameras, all of them going off so quickly that, if played one after the other, each photo would fit perfectly as a frame of film.
[A twenty year old woman and a man at the age of twenty-three stood side by side, a figure resembling the man, only with black hair, wearing Japanese clothing, stood next to them, staring off to nowhere with a look that crossed somewhere between doubt and self-assurance, arms crossed stoically over his chest. The very universe around them was a fading white, no ground, no enclosures.]
"Now I know what a dial-up modem must feel like," she complained, though her voice was cracked and dry.
[The woman had bubblegum pink hair and violet eyes, both she and the man were waving with smiles on their faces.]
Idly, it occurred to her that she must have been walking on mental auto-pilot for hours on end, like sleep walking without the actual sleep to walk in. Her eyes were still sore from not even blinking enough during most of her unconscious journey through the sands.
["... What are you?"
"I`m you. Kinda."]
"Hope they pointed me in the right direction..."
["... Then... How were you created, if you`re older than me?"
"Beke`s a God Program. He does these things," Thomas chimed in with an expression that almost mirrored Bit`s cocky smirks, differing only because it lacked the ego inherent to the other blonde`s expressions.
"What he means is that... I`m what you`re hopefully going to be like in about... Five years or so."]
Finally, she came to a stop, aching all over and tired enough that she felt almost as bad as Harry had looked the first time she`d seen him in Champton.
"Can`t go on any further," she groaned out tiredly, bracing her hands to her knees with a sigh.
["What`s your name?" She finally asked this taller, unscarred version of herself.
"I don`t know. I guess, once you leave, I`ll be Leena."]
For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence, and Leena could only stand there alone, closing her eyes tiredly and wheezing.
["I have a better idea," she said with a hint of suggestion in her voice. The older copy held her question back, waiting for Leena to continue with a curious expression.
"Selene. I always figured that if I had a daughter, I`d name her that... Don`t know if it`s appropriate since you`re kinda my sister but..."]
"Leena?" Cracked a noticably exhausted voice from the top of the sand dune in front of her. Almost reflexively, she straightened up, opening her eyes as the sunlight filtered through. As she did, she was treated to one of the most endearing sights of her life: Harry Champ coming two steps short of crashing a jeep trying to get to her.
"LEENA!"
["Selene it is then... Sis."]
A tired smile slowly etched its way onto the teen`s face, though the tiredness in it was mostly faded by now.
[A twenty year old woman and a twenty-three year old man waved good-bye, a silent, winking fellow with black hair giving a peace sign from behind them. And then the world went completely white.]
"I guess they all set me in the right direction, after all," she mused as the jeep came to a screeching halt, Sebastian and Benjamin both flying out of the backseat and crashing to the ground, even while Harry practically went airborn towards her.
Neither of them saw it, but a small black speck streaked over the horizon
behind them, casting a faded, saurian shadow over both of them. If they
could see it closer, they probably would`ve mistaken the expressionless
shell to be smiling down at them as it blazed off to wherever Beke had
felt would be best, for however long it would be until the last creation
of Thomas Schubaltz was needed again...
"... Good job, man," Jack said with a hollow voice. It had taken roughly two hours for the crowd to disperse enough for him to get a word in edgewise. People wanted to see the body of the man who had saved their lives, he could hardly blame them but...
In a way, he really did blame them though. He felt spite against them, at the same time that he felt bitter towards the men who had taken them hostage in the first place.
Jack Sisco, or Johnathan Sebastian, depending on when and how you knew him, had an unnerving trait that he had learned from Stigma Stoller, one where he could look almost like a corpse whenever his emotions boiled over. It was an unnatural progression from his detached emotional stance in the aftermath of Hal Edwards` death.
Right now, he bore a look on his face that would`ve turned the Taskers blue in shock and Stoller green with envy.
The only other living person within earshot was Mother Ilene, her head bowed in respect, hands clasped around the cross that she usually wore on her neck. There were visible streaks down her naturally graceful face from tears that had been pouring out ever since the man lying dead at her feet had left her sight.
"I... Don`t have a damn clue what else to say, Brad," Jack mumbled out, unsure of what he could possibly do or say for the first time in five or six years. Suffice to say, it wasn`t something that happened often. "You gave it your all and... In the end, you came through. But you didn`t live to tell about it..."
A pause. Then a dry, almost arid chuckle.
"First Hal, then you... Ten years from now, I wonder if me or Eric`ll be burying each other..."
It was a morbid statement. If not for Ilene`s near paralyzation, she probably would have slapped him for it. As it stood, she was too busy with her own grief and near-silent prayers to even hear him.
"... I guess all I can do is give her your gun, huh?" Jack finally asked, staring at his dead comrade`s face as the corpse-like expression shifted slightly. They hadn`t exactly had much in the way of a death talk, it had boiled down to comments over who would get whose stereo, that was it. Neither had gone in with the intention or the expectation of dying, and neither had prepared for it as a result. It just hadn`t been on their mutual agenda, but now?
"I know I kinda... Left my religion with Hal`s coffin, but... If you see him or God... Tell `em I said hi, will ya?" He asked, straightening his bandana and then turning towards Ilene, his grim look having briefly faded to an undeniably morbid smile. He wouldn`t be crying anytime soon, nor would he be drowning his grief either, he wasn`t like that, but he would definately carry through with his word.
"Mother," he began. "How long will it be... Before the funeral?"
"... With times as trying as these?" She asked, lifting her head and slowly moving to put the cross back around her neck. The sun continued to shine down on the both of them, and Brad`s body as well. "I don`t know. First, we`ll have to clear out the Church... Clean away the blood, re-sanctify it..."
"A few weeks? A month? More?"
"I don`t know," she reaffirmed darkly.
"Then I`ll just have to come back when I get the chance. Don`t postpone it for my sake, alright?" He asked somberly, to which Mother Canaris only nodded. With that, Jack turned to leave, only to stop himself short and speak up one last time to his fallen comrade.
"You were who you chose to be, Brad. I`m proud of you."
And with that, he left, having already collected and reholstered his
gun in his jacket from the dead man`s grasp.
*BOOM.*
"Bomb."
*BANG.*
"No, that was a bomb."
*CRACK-BOOM.*
"... Zoid. Yanno, I could think of a few million better ways to greet the day. Like... With coffee. And my girlfriend maybe," one of the two morbidly casual pilots commented with a lazy yawn as the cockpit slipped shut, the monitor lighting up as he slipped the safety harness into place. The Zoid gave a synthesized rumble and lifted its head, an action virtually duplicated by the contrasting Zoid next to it.
The two differed in almost every way. One was a slightly oversized Liger, the other was a slightly undersized Fox. One was black and gold, the other was white and, in some places, red. One was armed primarily to take something out at range, the other was ideal for going point blank. Even the pilots were a mix-and-match contrast to each other, even if they acted almost like brothers.
"Well-" *BANG!* "Bomb. Anyway, it`s not my fault you overslept too much to say 'see ya later' or anything," the slightly older of the two commented.
*CRACK-BOOM.*
"Zoid... And whatever, let`s just get out there before Beck trashes everything," the younger of the pair muttered out, feeling the very real desire to do some damage to something.
"... Pie."
*THRACK-BLAM.*
"... Fuck you," Mark grumbled out, even as another of the countless minor tremors rattled through the city. The Shadow Fox rotated its gears in an action similar to stretching out cramps, the command and combat systems both booting up after several seconds. The Ivory Blade Liger growled accordingly, even as Kyle gave a near-invisible wave to Katherine, who stood on the ground with monkey wrench in hand.
"Nah, she does that enough for my tastes," the silver haired pilot said with a bit of perversion to his voice.
"... Bet she does it with a strap-on," the black haired pilot growled out under his breath, just low enough that it was audible but unintelligible over the frequency they were using.
One after the other, the Shadow Fox and the Blade Liger stepped out of the drafted Zoid hangar, making it onto the pockmarked road that lead out of Farentown, both of their pilots completely oblivious to the fact that all Hell would likely be breaking loose beneath their feet in a matter of hours.
"How long`s our shift?" Mark asked, shifting the conversation to a slightly more appropriate subject, even as a dark green Rev Raptor went catapulting through the air outside of the city, two cannon bolts plugging it in the chest before it even left the pilots` sight. "... Glory hog," the younger of the two complained under his breath.
"Twelve hours, I think," Kyle answered, nowhere near as eager to spend virtually all of the day cramped into his Zoid`s cockpit, fighting for his life and doing things of that nature.
"... Joy."
A flash of seering red underscored by a blaze of hypnotic blue shocked through the room, jarring Sarah Obscura out of her senses and out of the world of the endless files and orders she had been reading and making over the course of the night.
Thanks to a recommendation from Steven and Leon, Harry had basically left her in charge for however long the search was set to run, and much to her credit, Sarah had taken the reigns of power and literally improved things in a matter of hours. The clutter was gone from the office, things had become ordered now, but the sudden appearance of... Something put a temporary halt to her work.
Or to be more accurate, something and someone.
"Hello," greeted the blue haired girl with her eyes shifting between colors, ranging from a pale red to a deep green to an especially dark shade of blue. Her skin was tanned, her clothing was that of an escapee from a mental institute and her face betrayed that her age was probably only just barely within the range of fifteen or so. Behind her stood a metallic, raptor-like dragon, measuring at least seven feet in height, not counting the added length of the tail which was curled onto the floor. The thing looked as if the word confusion had been created exclusively to describe it, especially since its coloring seemed to checker between red and blue on each side.
Sarah stared at the pair briefly, one brow slowly rising up. Most people would`ve probably taken to cowering under the desk in front of her by now, but instead of that, she just regarded the two with an unimpressed look on her face. To put it mildly, she had seen worse.
"Blue hair, dark skin, variable eye color, trailed by an inhuman psycho and looking like an escaped mental patient. Leyla Tsun, I presume?" She said inquisitively, not sure if she should get ready to have to break the girl`s arm or not, and equally unsure as to whether or not she even could. Even if she had a tendency to get emotional when it came to her sons, and even if she preferred to avoid violence, Sarah Obscura still had a mean streak two miles wide.
Not to mention about a half dozen black belts in various martial arts - only two of them self-defense oriented - to back it up.
"What are you, psychic?" Leyla asked bluntly, taking the time to distance herself a few steps from the Organoid that stood frozen like a statue behind her, its chest clanging shut carelessly.
"... Ask the boys back in Five Kings R&D," Sarah shrugged. "How can I help you?"
"... I guess I`d be better off asking you that. I came here to try and get some distance from... A few people," she said shiftily before continuing. "But since it didn`t exactly look like you guys are in the best of shape, I`d like to earn my keep and pilot a Zoid."
"You`re asking me to trust someone who went insane, warped a Konig Wolf into a virtual death machine and wound up in a criminal lunatic asylum over it," Sarah bluntly replied. "Why should I?"
Because the little bitch got better? Yes? Hm?
Pause.
"... Please tell me you heard that too..."
"That`s Borealis," Leyla replied.
Ain`t I cute? The Organoid perked, its eyes suddenly shimmering a bit.
"... Right. Well... Since we seem to be a bit short on manpower and you have a relatively good record in Zoid Battles, and since you have... References, I guess I can let you on. On a few conditions though," Sarah said with the tone of a well versed business negotiator.
"Such as?"
"One: You will take orders from anyone above you without question unless they strike you as immoral - and killing in defense of the city and your allies is not allowed into that definition," Sarah began, pausing to see Leyla`s reaction. Only a nod. She continued. "Two: You will not consider yourself a step above the others just because of a Class S background and experience with a Zoid. This means that heroics are to be kept to a minimum whenever possible, bragging will not be tolerated and neither will showing off."
Another nod.
"Three: You will clean yourself up, get a proper uniform and make yourself presentable before reporting back to a superior officer, preferably myself, for assignment to a Zoid, and possibly a combat unit. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma`am," Leyla answered without a salute. Champton wasn`t exactly a place that prided itself on any national military heritage so they didn`t really have any fancy salutes or similar rituals of respect. "Where can I find the showers and a uniform though?" She asked a second later.
"There`s a map out on the wall in the hallway, just watch out for the holes from last night`s attack," Sarah answered smoothly, only to speak up one last time as Leyla turned to leave.
"One more thing."
"Hm?" The girl sounded inquisitively, looking back at her.
"What about that thing?" The woman asked, pointing offhandedly at Borealis, which was still standing there with that same cracked look.
"... Oh, don`t mind him. He probably won`t be wanting to work with anyone or anything like that, but he does make a good paper weight," Leyla answered casually, which caused the Organoid to slump forward again, optics seeming to shift without pupils to cast her a derogatory sideways glance.
"You can leave now," she grit out at it. Borealis was impassive.
Not `til the time is right. Besides, I have to get you back for that little comment.
Both narrowed their eyes at each other before Sarah cleared her throat, at which, Leyla promptly left.
"... Don`t you have something else to do?"
... Not really. Anything I can do? Mop the floors, paint the walls, make some coffee, buy cheap porn to raise the morale of the troops...
Sarah stared blankly.
It was gonna be a looooooong day...
"Ya know," he began, his mouth half-full with partially chewed food. "I don`t really get why so many people," a pause, he swallowed it down after a few more chews, then continued. "Skip on breakfast. Really, it`s the most important meal o` the day..."
The lady behind the counter gave only a muted nod. She was in her mid-twenties, looked a bit weathered but still full of life, and right now, she also looked full of fear. Full blown terror, in fact.
It wasn`t every day that ruthless, homicidal maniacs walked out of the history books, clad in full piloting gear, intent on ordering food from a place that you worked in, after all. This one lacked the proper tattoo, his face was a bit narrower and his jawline a bit stronger, but the resemblance was enough to give some people nightmares, especially with the way the scene was playing out.
"You have any idea why they do that?" He asked between bites of his burger, so casually that it sent chills up and down the spines of the few people who were still in the diner.
"... N-no. You?" The woman asked, cringing with every word. He gave a mild, unconcerned shrug.
"Nope. Their loss, far as I`m concerned. Just seems wasteful to me... Why skip out on what could potentially be the only meal of the day?" The man asked, pausing long enough to wipe a hand concealed in a plain leather glove over his mouth, then continuing to eat.
"Some people are just dumb, huh?" She asked, visibly squirming in an effort to resist the urge to run away.
... You`re enjoying this, aren`t you? Shadow asked bemusedly, sitting awkwardly on the bar stool next to his bondmate, an unfolded newspaper held clumsily in his razor sharp talons, opened up to the business section. A pair of reading glasses sat impossibly on the tip of his snout.
"Absolutely," Kale answered, taking the last bite out of his cheese burger and then intentionally pausing to savor the taste before swallowing it down.
"Sir?" The woman asked fearfully.
"Talkin` to myself," he shrugged absently, taking a sip of the coffee he had ordered and then plucking bacon off of the side dish he had gotten with his burger. "Annoying habit, yanno... Kinda like my tendency to cause random property damage. Say, is there any way I could get seconds in a take out box? It`s been weeks since I actually ate anything and well... Yeah, I could use the snack."
You sick, depraved little bastard...
The woman only nodded before turning and making a brisk walk towards the kitchen. Before she could open the door, Kale spoke up.
"Oh! And be sure to bring it back yourself, otherwise I`ll have to take a steak knife and kill you, okay?!" He shouted to her with a cracked, amused smile. One could almost see Shadow`s dark blue optics shifting to give him a sideways glance.
"... What? You know how shifty those diner workers can be... The last one I had to deal with almost killed me!"
... Yes, true. I suppose you do have to be a bit forceful with them... Could always threaten to have my gut her four year old son like a pig, alive and screaming, Shadow replied, making sure to broadcast his Voice into the minds of each and every person in the diner. Instantly, six children finally went over the edge and broke into sobbing fits, just as glass shattered in the kitchen.
"... Nahhh, Let`s reserve that for if she takes too long," Kale said, just loudly enough to make the woman hurry up. All of a minute and a half trickled by as the Raven lookalike with a near-Hiltz-type personality sat there waiting with a cracked, bastardly grin on his face, teeth beared, eyes half-lidded, hair hanging in just the right position to selectively shadow his face.
Then the door into the kitchen flew open and the woman stumbled out. One of her high heels had snapped, tears were slipping down her face and a see-through plastic container with one large helping of french fries and a bacon cheeseburger - with mayonaise, lettuice and ketchup, not tomato - placed so neatly inside that they could probably accent a piece of furniture.
She set it on the counter with a completely fake smile, a nervous twitch having formed next to one soft, brown colored eye.
"Now that is service," Kale complimented with a smile of his own, that type that just said 'Maybe I should kill you just to hear how loudly you scream...'
"By the way, do you know where any laundromats are, O pretty little waitress?"
"... Down the street, one turn left, one turn right. Can`t miss it," she answered with the kind of timid tone that came from a mouse half-ready to fling itself at a chainsaw.
"Hm. Pity, I don`t seem to have a wallet handy... It`s a real bitch keeping money in a flight suit and all..."
"N-no, that`s quite alright. On the house."
"Oh, but I insist... There`s gotta be something I can pay you with," Kale trailed off absently, thoughtfully stroking his chin before nodding to himself. "Howsabout I let you live, that good enough? Yes?" He asked curiously, tilting his head to the side with another of those demented, forced grins. If the act went much longer, he would probably burst into laughter until he cried.
Not like he was going to let any of these sorry bastards live to see the sun rise tomorrow.
"Yessir. Thankyousir," she said a bit quickly.
With that, Kale stood up and grabbed the take out box in one hand, tossing the other over his shoulder in a whimsical little wave. Shadow merely cast his glasses aside and shredded the newspaper before following suit, his mechanical footsteps leaving shallow imprints on the black-and-white, checker tiling of the floor.
The door flipped open, and the two stepped outside to be greeted by
the pleasant side of the Geno Maxis, its enormous feet planted in not one,
but four parking places - two each. Three cars were half-crushed beneath
its feet, and another minivan had been smashed in by its tail. The Zoid
growled at the sight of them, even while Kale motioned for it to follow
as he calmly, pleasantly waltzed down the street, take out in hand, laundry
on his mind, humming the tune to an old song as he did.
If there had been anything remotely akin to a dawn in the eternal twilight morning-afternoon of Nyx, Bit Cloud wasn`t one to notice it, mainly since he was far too focused on trying to keep the Liger from keeling over and losing power all together. It had been a limping walk from the battlefield where the trio had struck down the Geno Sniper - how they had done it was still beyond his ability to comprehend, but he was starting to piece things together, bit by bit.
"Don`t worry, buddy, we`ll be there soon," he said, though a thought would`ve probably sufficed. The emotion got through either way, drawing a ragged, half-conscious groan from the Liger Zero, which had since become caked right back up with snow, ash and a bit of excess grime from other things in the air, once again tarnishing its formerly brilliant color scheme.
The climb up the softly etched slope that curled around the sides of the mesa was slow, but not terribly unpleasant. It was time spent resting, time where the three were allowed the chance to actually gather their wits back up without some sort of mission looming over their collective heads.
Zeke was silent. Where there had once been at least a background hum, now there was only a muted snore, trailing through the back of Bit`s thoughts. The Organoid had obviously become worn with all of the stress that it had been under lately, from how it had all but given out in the canyon to how Shadow had overwhelmed him after days of keeping a Zoid, an Organoid and two people - one of which he wasn`t even bonded to - alive.
All things considered, Zeke had a certifiable right to sleep. So did the Liger itself, and Bit as well for that matter. Without Zeke to keep him going, the hunger from not eating for days unknown was starting to catch up with him, as was the lack of sleep and the lack of bathing. Before, he had been passingly numbed to his own body odor, now?
Now, he almost wanted to vomit on himself for his own putrid stench.
Finally, the Liger lumbered wearily up the last turn of the journey, stepping onto the top of the immense natural structure, coming to a stop after a few minutes more.
Roc had been waiting. The First Born stood alone, directly across from them. Its wings were folded, its eyes glowing a bit dimmer than usual, and those lethal looking claws had been drawn into the main body. The enormous creature`s tail had wrapped itself haphazardly around one of its back legs, and if there were any way for the newly ash and snow covered Organoid to be described, it would have fit with the word gloomy.
"... Where`s Madison?" Bit asked inquisitively, glancing around. There was a sharp pang of an emotion that would`ve been utterly impossible for any organic creature to describe, and then...
Roc spoke.
Its true Voice was incredible, a chorus of thousands upon thousands upon hundreds of thousands of seperate voices at once, yet even through the countless identifiable differences in pitch and tone, it sounded as if it was one person speaking the words out.
She has gone to ready the circumstances for your final tests...
In the barren wastelands, a single figure trudged towards the dome with
all the determination of a heartless machine, a metallic club that weighed
more than some people cast almost carelessly over her shoulder.
The trials which you will pass... Will not be easy ones.
"Rommel is WHAT?!"
"It just came over the broadband! Some Raynos sh-"
A flash of green light, energy melding through the floor and the ceiling
and the walls all at once, collecting and combining into a sphere of emerald
tinted power.
To succeed, is to know victory at an impossible price.
"Reports of my demise," echoed a smooth, stately voice as the energy suddenly shifted into the vaguest of silhouettes, identifiable as one human and one inhuman form. The voice continued though, carrying with it something... Dangerous.
"Have been greatly, and intentionally exaggerated," Vilhelm Rommel pointed out as the light faded out of existence, the green Organoid`s cables drawing from around his body and back into Spectacle`s own, the metallic creature`s chest promptly slamming shut with the clanks and clicks of metal against metal, those red eyes glimmering a bit more intuitively for the time being.
"... Sir," one of the scientists managed to almost shove out, his breathing made rapid from shock and awe. "We all thought..."
"I already cleared that, sub-commander. Why don`t you give me a status report now? It`s been too long since I`ve heard from the Dome, and since this is going to be my personal headquarters for a while... I do believe I have a vested interest in finding out how things have been going, now don`t I?" Vilhelm asked, his charisma alone enough to rouse the officer out of his stupor.
But it hadn`t been enough to silence everyone else. Not on its own. Something else was at work here, or...
Someone.
"Well... We`ve lost the Proto Breaker and the Geno Sniper in engagements with the Liger Zero... Marshall was ambushed two or three days ago, Sandler was taken down a few hours before you arrived," the scientist explained with no small amount of haste and obedience, obedience that simply hadn`t been there before.
"And what do you plan to do about that, hm?" Vilhelm asked, casually walking around his underling, past the others in the room and seating himself in the scientist`s own swivelling chair. Almost instantly, it looked as if it had been tailor made for the business suit wearing, string pulling mad man with the villainous green eyes.
"We were going to try and use our last Geno Saurer X prototype against it, and if that doesn`t work..."
"Then you`ll use the other prototype," Vilhelm finished expertly, folding his hands together and playing the crowd like they were pawns in a game of chess that he had already won within the first three moves.
"Yes."
"I can agree with that strategy. It seems quite logical," Rommel said before continuing. "But... Where is Brogan during all of this?"
"He changed the line-up of the pilots. He wants to pilot the last Geno prototype against the Liger Zero himself," the scientist said a bit nervously. Spectacle shifted derisively, Vilhelm gave a small nod.
"I`m afraid I cannot allow that to happen. Tell Brogan that if he wants
to pilot a Zoid against the Liger, he can use the... Other prototype. If
he objects, I want his legs and arms blown out, his clothing removed and
his body dropped on the ground - alive, if possible. The pilot we have
for the Storm Breaker will do the job perfectly... Especially since, I
believe, we have a guest coming our way."
In truth...
The wind howled around her, the snow crumpled at her feet and the skies themselves screamed and roared to stop, to turn back and to never set foot on the very continent again.
She didn`t bother listening.
Even though the very air itself could kill a man in minutes, she kept moving as if it was as clean as an orchard`s breeze in springtime. Her hair alone had probably become weighted down enough to offset a normal woman`s posture, the hundred pound club on her shoulder could`ve done even more damage, yet it was held like a feather.
The expression on her face was ambiguous - at best. Neutrality, cold and simple, like that of a computer program. Not even determination that would`ve been required for someone else was etched into her void-like pinkish-red eyes, because she really didn`t even need determination.
For her, it was equivelent to an ordinary person making a run to the
post office to pay a few bills.
They will probably be the hardest battles, that you will ever
live to fight.
An uncertain piano tune rang through one pilot`s imagination. A cigarette was raised, the lankily built man in his twenties took a lingering drag before exhaling the smoke out through his mouth, the cancer stick hanging in place against the whims of gravity.
He was of average height, possessing a narrow but athletic build despite himself, thin but muscular arms and lacked displayed through the confines of a tight fitting, black flight suit, the padded collar extending up around the lower half of his neck. His gloves hung carelessly from the front side pocket of the chest region of his suit, while his black flight boots seemed rooted firmly to the metal of the hangar floor.
His hair was black, though faint shimmers of a dirty blonde and an impossibly
dark red seemed to shimmer through in just the right lighting, while his
face, narrow and long but with a redeeming quality of some kind attached
to it, hidden deeply behind those eternally narrowed, but still vaguely
casual, light green eyes...
Author`s Note: Hopefully that ending went reasonably well. If you think you`ve figured out who that pilot might be - SHUT THE HELL UP AND DON`T SAY IT IN A REVIEW!!!
... And some people really think I`m high-strung... Imagine that :p
Illidan: I`ll give ya a hint: He hangs out with Stigma Stoller a lot :P And yeah, the Brad chapter, for me, is the highlight of the aptly dubbed Blitz Arc.
EndlessAdventure: Tactical differences between you and a fictional character then. If you feel like debating the matter, I`d rather you IM me to do it than comment on it in reviews. As for Zinou... She didn`t seem to have any prob-*Promptly ripped limb from limb by a pack of rabid hyenas.* x_x
The Big Fisch: That`s the effect I was goin` for! XD
That`s all for now folks, leave a review, enjoy, Sh33p out and see ya
next time!
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Book
collections on CD and DVD. A library for the price of a book.
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