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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 15:43:29 GMT -5
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 15:45:34 GMT -5
DC2 Showcase:
Issue #2
Written by Various
Cover by A.I. Carlos
Edited by John Elbe |
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:33:13 GMT -5
Mechanical Dreams: part 2 (of 3)
Written by Robert Harding 4 He didn’t sleep that night for two reasons. The first was he feared if he went to sleep he would start hearing voices again and not be able to work out what was a dream and what was reality as had been happening often lately during the early hours of waking. The second reason was simpler. He couldn’t. His mind and soul were still too emotionally destroyed for his body to do any of its normal activities. It was for this reason that he decided he should continue as of normal, at least for today. At least to get his mind off of last night and focus on more trivial things; and so he got a cab and went to the mall on the outskirts of the city. Heavy base tones throbbed through his head and he absorbed every beat. He could no longer feel the ridiculously large headphones over his ears and with his eyes closed the whole world drifted away and so he focused on the heavy metal rock pumping into his skull. It was only when he realised that the music was a good distraction did he think of why he was being distracted. The news about his Mom and the other weirdness from last night left his mind crushed and his soul crippled. He wasn’t focused on anything and yet he took in every detail of every crack in the sidewalk. However close it was, it was as though he was watching from afar. Like watching a movie. To be honest he didn’t remember walking into the music store and putting on the headphones, he didn’t even remember which music store it was. He breathed heavily and reabsorbed himself into the music. However this stint was quickly interrupted by a hearty slap on the back, which caused him to nearly hit the ceiling, and caused the headphones to fall around his neck. He turned around expecting some nightmarish horror to be waiting there. After all recent events had proved that anything was possible in this world. However he was pleasantly surprised. Standing before him was a black male, like himself, about his age wearing a red beanie, mostly black and white loose fitting clothes and had a black moustache that merged with a goatee resulting in a thin strip of dark hair encircling his mouth. His name was Romeo Jetson and had been the teen’s first and strongest friend until last year when Romeo got kicked out of high school. Since then the two had rarely seen one another. “Hey! ‘Zup, blud?” Romeo questioned, firmly gripping his old friend’s left hand between both of his, a smile spreading across his face. “Not so good, man.” “Yeah. I heard, bro. Dat’s rough dog, real rough.” The two stared at one another for sometime, neither sure what else to say. “So I was thinking we could do another job tomorrow.” Romeo obviously had decided to break the thin air. It wasn’t exactly what the other had wanted to hear. “Look man, I don’t wanna let you down but I don’t really wanna do any more o’ dat stuff. Plus now ain’t a really good time.” “You tell me a betta thing, dog. Seriously it’ll get your mind off stuff. It’s no biggy.” “What you thinkin’?” the other teen was asking out of politeness but in all honesty had no intention of helping his old friend out with another ‘gig’. “A bank. I know what your thinkin’ but listen. The guy who runs it is rumoured to have been paying off whoever killed Lorenzo’s family. You know. Over on 4th…couple nights back? Punk’s scum! We gonna make him pay. Guy I know said he’ll pay us a cut of whatever we get out wiv’ if we do dis for him. What do you say, bro? It’ll be like old times.” Like old times. The temptation of ‘old times’ was too strong. A chance to relive a side of a life he had lost in recent days. It wasn’t even the side that he liked but none the less it was part of something that had fallen apart. “When?” “Tonight.” Romeo continued. “The guy’s a creep, apparently he pays for a lotta peeps to get shot here so we gonna make him taste some o’ his own. All we gotta do is go in with masks and guns, hold ‘em up and get outta there and the guy’s life gets pried into by the cops. If we’re lucky we may have to get to him first.” Romeo was again revealing the side of himself that his friend wished didn’t exist. However he accepted. “Ok. I’ll be there. I know the place.” Romeo grinned. The two embraced and patted each other heartily on the back in a gesture of friendship. “ I’ll see ya tonight o’right, dog.” His long time friend simply nodded and smiled a smile that wasn’t all together genuine. Romeo then turned and was gone as fast as he had arrived. |
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:34:50 GMT -5
After another five minutes or so of thrashing guitars and the ‘music’ created by some inmate on a drum set, the teen opened his eyes in time to see arrogance personified moving over the horizon of the escalator and heading straight into whatever music store he had ended up in. ‘Arrogance Personified’ generally went by the name of Derek Wiseman. Tall, muscular, perfect swept back blonde hair, clean-shaven and captain of the high school football team. He was possibly the soul representative for the ‘Keep America’s High School Jock Propaganda’ campaign. And he also happened to be a bit arrogant...as well as self-centred, vein and other such narcissistic characteristics.
Following Derek was the usually assortment of football disciples: his larger dim-witted quarterback buddy, about three other random (most likely nameless) team members and then three or so brainless cheerleaders. He could have sworn there must be a secret handbook that commanded football players to team up like this. They probably had code-names as well. Pretty different to the athletics team…for a start the athletics team actually worked as a team. But it was a school day and the only reason he wasn’t at a school was because of…the accident, but that didn’t explain why these guys where wondering the mall. He looked at his watch to see if they were on lunch break and found it was half-past-four. It was later than he thought. He must have been in the store for at least two hours.
Derek swaggered over towards the store and mockingly winked at the boy who stood staring back at him with hefty earphones encompassing his head. Derek mouthed something at him but the heavy metal drowned it out. Removing the earphones the other boy stood and looked back at Derek waiting for him to repeat his sentence.
“Hear you was off school today, Stone?” Derek questioned, in a voice that almost resembled caring. “I hope your Mommy wrote you a sick note. Oh, crap I forgot. She blew up didn’t she?”
The other boy, Stone, felt as though he’d been hit by the force of runaway bus. He fixed his eyes on Derek’s dark pupils and didn’t unfix them until Derek turned around when a buddy of his punched him on the shoulder telling him to lay off. Blood was pumping through Stone’s body faster than he could breathe in the oxygen it needed. His fists clenched and a rage began to boil deep within him. The rage however quickly subsided when he saw a nimble elegant hand land on Derek’s shoulder. He followed the hand, along its willowy arm and saw a face that surely had been created for heavenly purposes. The face was round but with large lips, large brown eyes and her long raven hair cascaded over her petit shoulders. It was a face Stone recognised. She had been a friend of his in Jr. High and Stone had always found her sort of pretty. In fact he found her beautiful, especially now as she calmed the retarded gorilla that drooled in front of him.
“Derek, come on. Let’s go now.” She then turned to Stone and smiled. Stupidly without thinking he smiled back…and Derek noticed.
“Oh that’s right. I forgot; you got the hots for my girl don’t ya.”
“Derek, I ain’t your girl, ok.” She said it in a non-threatening way but still she had put herself in the firing line.
“Oh, yes you are baby.” He said in a horrible gooey voice that was supposed to be adorable and loving. “Come on. Gimme a kiss!” With that Derek reached out his arms and embraced her and pulled her towards himself, he began to kiss the side of her cheek and she tried to pull away, resting her hands on his chest and pushing off but she couldn’t escape the quarterback’s grip.
Stone stepped up to the tall muscular jock. It wasn’t that Stone had a particularly small build, in fact he had broader shoulders and was better built than most of his friends but there is a difference between runners and football stars. Derek was definitely a football star. Stone stepped forward and then things went wrong,
although not for Stone. Stone thrust a hand towards Derek’s shoulder and spun him away from ‘his girl’. She fell back but quickly regained her balance and lay her palm squarely across Derek’s face with such force that the air resounded with a ringing and a large red mark was across his face.
Now Derek was riled. “Oh, that’s it! You’re gonna pay ya little bit…”
“Get off her.” Stone leapt in between her and Derek. “Joss, go” he continued to the girl. Joss stood her ground.
“I told you. She’s mine punk and let’s leave it that way.” Stone was suddenly overcome with a chivalrous urge to protect her. And then as if from no where it happened again:
<CIVILIAN DEFENSE PROTOCAL INITIATED>
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:35:57 GMT -5
Stone’s head spun as he searched for the source of the noise. This brief distraction meant that he was not ready for the fist that quickly impacted with his right cheek bringing him to the ground. His jaw groaned and blood crept from between his lips.
<SELF PRESERVATION PROTOCAL OVERRIDING DEFENSE PROTOCAL>
Stone stood up and inadvertently turned his other cheek to face Derek. Another blow sailed towards Stone’s left cheek. This time there was the sound of splintering bone and spray of blood from Derek’s fist. The football star, prone to bringing down players twice his size, now fell to his knees clutching his fist and wailing like a girl. Quickly Derek’s four goons began to encircle him and Stone eyed up each of their positions.
<CONFLICT TACTIONING INITIATED>
This time though Stone wasn’t caught off guard. He was prepared. In fact he was more prepared than he thought possible. His body reacted without thinking as though his reflexes outmatched his body. The first attacker swung a fist sideways. Stone ducked and grabbed it in mid air and pushed it back hard enough to send the assailant into chairs outside the neighbouring Starbucks.
A second attacker then ran from behind. Stone had no idea how he knew the guy was there but he just did and again reacted before he could think. He spun around to face the stampeding brute and with Olympic precision, waited until the last moment and then place his hands on the juggernauts shoulders and somersaulted over his head. His feet landed firmly three feet from where he had taken off whereas his attacker was still being carried by the momentum back into Derek who had miraculously managed to stop crying.
Stone stared at himself for a minute, still with his back to Derek and his random friend. He had no understanding of what he had just done and in a sense it scared him. Although in a greater more consuming sense he felt power. Stone turned and faced Derek and as he did so he reached his left arm across his chest and grabbed the arm of the last jock to attack him, who was now reaching for Stone’s face, and without flinching, tossed him over his head. At that moment in time Derek and his friends decided to leave, but not without a final comment.
“Fine, you can have the girl.” Turning to Joss he added “Joss we’re through.” And then returning to Stone he continued “God knows you need someone to love seeing as how’s your Mom kicked the bucket, your Dad thinks your black trash and ‘specially since you got kicked off the track team.” The first two insults made Stone bubble with anger but the third confused him.
Shouting back he asked. “What do you mean ‘kicked off the team.’?”
“Ask your coach, freak.” And with that they were gone. The two other goons began picking themselves up and as they did so shop owners started coming out towards him screaming and a security guard put his radio to his ear. Following the lead of the girls who had stood watching, Stone decided it was a good time to leave the mall and so he headed for school and the coach’s office.
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:37:13 GMT -5
5
The cheap wooden door of Coach Philips’ office swung open and clattered with a decorative filling cabinet; rattling the many pictures that hung on the walls, all depicting Coach from his glory days.
“Stone. I need to speak with you.” The large man resting in his large leather swivel chair behind his large wooden desk said matter-of-factly. It was doubtful as to whether science had yet proved that the coach had emotions besides anger.
“I’d say so!” Was the reply from a very irate teenager.
“Guess ya heard then, kiddo.”
“Why the hell am I off the track team coach! Why the hell can’t I run anymore?”
“Listen I don’t believe it but Principal Charlton said that we gotta take matters…” He was interrupted from his shockingly uncharacteristic apology.
“What’s goin’ on Coach?”
The coach sighed heavily and replied. “We got good reason to believe you may be using some kind of performance enhancers.”
For a moment, he needed to process the information but then it hit him like a brick wall…. strapped to the front of a freight train.
“DRUGS! You think I’m on drugs?”
“No. I don’t…”
“But someone said I was and the Principal thinks I am…Coach do something for God’s sake!”
The coach leapt from his chair at that point. “Don’t tell me what to do ya little snot. This is my team and I can’t have no bad press. Besides I ain’t to know if you ain’t.”
“Are you saying you think I AM on drugs now? Run tests on me or whatever.”
“We’ve been given advice not to.”
“WHAT! What kinda advice?”
“Look Stone, just accept you’re off the team. Now hand back that jacket. Wait! When did you get a jacket? Only the football team get jackets. So you a thief too?” By now both were in each other’s face and testosterone was choking the air around them.
“You issued them last semester.”
“ARE YOU BEING SMART WITH ME NOW, BOY!” By now the roaring coach was his natural shade of throbbing purple and spittle was collecting around his nicotine stained lips. “AND WHY THE HELL WEREN’T YOU IN SCHOOL TODAY, EITHER? Tryin’ to get kicked off the exact same way as you moron buddy Romeo: by failing every class?” Then, talking more to himself, he added “What does it matter you ain’t on the team anymore anyway.”
“I got time off school coz…. because my….” He couldn’t bring himself to say what had happened. Maybe if he said it out loud then it would be real, there would be no taking it back. Once he’d admitted it he feared maybe the dreams of coming home and finding his Mom waiting for him would end. It didn’t matter either way, the Coach remembered and found some tiny place inside him that was capable of humanity and managed to simmer down.
“Ok, well…um…Yeah, I’m sorry bout that kid. You can take as much time off as you want. That’s what the Principal said, right? Well it’s Friday today. I do however wanna see that jacket on my desk by…say Wednesday whether you were in school or not.”
All Stone could do was nod back. His throat was parched and gravely. The realization hit him that it was no longer his secret; this was real and the whole world seemed to know what had happened…how his Mom had…
“Coach, I gotta ask one thing.”
“Don’t go there Stone.”
“Coach tell me! Who told you that I was on something.”
“Stone, you know I can’t tell you that.”
“Coach!”
Coach Philips sighed heavily and after a long pause Coach Philips made one of the biggest mistakes of his career...he answered.
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:37:56 GMT -5
The room exploded. The door slammed open and a framed picture of a dark haired woman fell from the bookcase adjacent to the wall and was shattered across the floor. Stone didn’t care. His figure filled the doorframe with a blackening rage. He strode forward filled with an anger of righteous retribution.
“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TELL THE COACH, OLD MAN?” His voice bellowed through the steel skeleton of the apartment and with the screaming question his father emerged from the kitchen wiping his hands on a tea towel. His face was calm as was his voice.
“Listen, son I….” He was quickly cut off by bitter hollering as his son grabbed him by the shirt collar.
“YOU SAID I WAS ON DRUGS?!?”
“It was necessary my boy.”
“IT WAS WHAT?” The room went silent and Stone could easily have found it within himself to break his father in two.
“Let me explain. The night of the explosion you underwent life saving surgery but the doctors had to use experimental…” he paused for a moment, as though he had to think of the right word to use, “…experimental drugs. These drugs kept you alive and asleep long enough for them to operate and they haven’t been flushed from your system.”
“AND?”
“And physical exercise at the present time would cause the chemicals to…” again he paused as though his mind was trying to catch up with his mouth, “It would cause the chemicals to wear your body out and possibly…well…let’s try not to think about the hospital again.”
Then in a calmer tone Stone asked, “Why didn’t you just tell Coach that?”
“You know perfectly well that if I told Coach the truth he would still force you to play. Anyway this lets you catch up on some of your grades as they have been slipping lately until you are cleared and allowed to play again.”
“When will that be?” he asked his father.
“It depends.”
Stone had enough. He stormed up the staircase and threw himself through the door of his surrogate bedroom. He collapsed on the mattress that lay on the floor, coated with a layer of teenage necessities. Things that now seemed so trivial. Soon the sobs and heavy breathing subsided and he took a CD player and CD from a bag and fitted the phones into his ears and let the heavy base tones of the CD fill his head. The same base tones he had listened to in the store before he left, just after he took the CD. His mind soon wandered to the picture he had shattered downstairs, her picture, his Mother’s picture. The crying started again and he reached under his pillow and took out a 5x7 photograph that was crumpled from constant handling. It too was a photo of his mother and over the past few days he would take it from under his pillow and stare into her eyes each time he awoke crying in the night. He kissed her cheek and put her back in her resting place. He looked at his watch: 5:23. At six thirty he would leave. At seven it would happen. Romeo had given a time but he didn’t need to. It was always at seven. What would his mother do if she saw him now he thought? Probably what he had been doing almost constantly for the last few days. She would cry.
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:39:25 GMT -5
6
The two of them sat in a car. Adrenaline coursed through both of their bodies. They waited, staring at their watches until it was exactly seven o’clock. However there was one difference between the two. Stone didn’t want to be there. They stepped from the stolen car, parked opposite the bank and adjusted the eyeholes in their balaclavas and took two fake shotguns from the backseat. They only had to scare the guy and make off with his cash; no one had to get hurt. They weren’t really doing anything wrong, it was justice. That’s what Stone kept telling himself at least, even though he knew he didn’t believe it. They ran to the doors and as one they kicked them in. Momentarily there was an eerie stillness then the air resounded with screams and crying.
“EVERYONE SHUT UP AND GET ON THE GROUND.” Romeo bellowed. Stone stood there and did his best to look menacing while his friend screamed orders.
“PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD AND NO ONE TRY ANY HEROICS! WE WANT TO SEE THE GUY IN CHARGE….NOW!!!”
A man rose quivering from behind the desk and pointed to a large man in a suit curled up on the floor. Romeo nodded his head towards him and Stone grabbed him by the arm, handing him to Romeo who led him into a back room, the room where cash is usually kept. Stone remained in the main entrance area making sure everyone stayed well behaved. Stone stayed patiently in the doorway for a matter of minutes that seemed to pass like hours. As he stood there he heard his mother’s voice in his head.
“Victor Stone, you get your sorry behind home right now and think about what you’ve just done. And you ain’t getting’ no dinner either.” Just like his mother would say. Words like that were so comforting now. His concentration was broken when he heard a sound he wished never to hear and still wished never to hear again. The air tore with a resounding echo and the noise of splintering wood. Stone ripped the leg of a chair and jammed it between the door with his left hand hard enough, he hoped, that it couldn’t be pulled out without a lot of noise. He then raced into the back room and was met by Romeo standing with a smoking shotgun. He then turned his gaze to the manager. He wasn’t hurt, just scared.
“What the hell is goin’ on, man?” Stone yelled.
“Stone, I knew you were feeling nervous about tonight so I didn’t tell you I was packin’. Sorry bro, but I gotta do what I gotta do.”
“Dude gimme, dat.” Stone reached for the gun but without blinking Romeo turned it and pointed it at his oldest and dearest friend.
“Stone, this is big money. Don’t make me do something stupid to ya.”
It was in that brief second of terror that something more terrifying happened. The voices returned.
<HIGH-RISK THREAT. INITIATING ADEQUATE
SELF-PRESERVATION RESPONSE>
And as those words flashed through his head, something never before glimpsed in the whole of the cosmos happened. Stone’s left arm burst open. Skin flew from his arm and something burst from underneath. Only it wasn’t skin as the underside shimmered silver as it spiralled through the air like it was laced with metal. From under the skin he saw an arm that was profoundly not of human origin. It was a metallic appendage perfectly shaped like an arm only not smooth. He could see facets and grooves and segmentations were they separate parts connected. And it was expanding, folding out from the way it had been resting so that it tore the skin away. Folds of metal and wires came from points across his arm and layered over his hand; twisted and connecting to form…something else.
This new appendage then seemed to automatically point itself at Romeo’s face and it was when he saw the red glowing barrel of his hand he realized it had become some kind of living cannon. All this happened in the blink of an eye, so fast that Romeo would not have been able to pull the trigger before the change had finished. That was if he wanted to. Now he had a new look on things.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had this kind of hardware? We could be doin’ so much more than robbing banks. For God’s sake man, I’m your best friend and you’ve been lying to my face!” Stone didn’t reply. Instead he looked coldly into the eyes of Romeo Jetson and lowered his gun arm and as he did so it folded back to it’s more humanoid shape and was swiftly covered with a moving metallic liquid that, when resided, revealed a new layer of dark skin covering the arm so that it once again appeared human just as a voice in his head stated
<NANITES DEPLOYED. CIVILIAN APPEARANCE RESTORED>
Suddenly the air rang with a continual ringing, like a siren.
“Nice job, Stone. Now someone has triggered the silent alarm.” Romeo eyed the safe momentarily but Stone took his elbow in a metallic grip.
“Let’s go Romeo. Cops will be here soon.” For once Romeo made the right move and the two ran through the main doors and into the night. Stone ran to the car but Romeo got their first, started the engine and locked the doors. Rolling the window down, he said, “Ya screwed up, Stone. But since I’m your best friend you can redeem yourself. Something big is going down, Stone. All I can tell you is it has to do with the Afghani embassy.” With that he clapped his hands together, bought them up and then separated them…mimicking a mushroom cloud: an explosion. And then the tires screeched as the car drove into the night leaving Vic Stone to once again fend for himself.
To be concluded…
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:41:37 GMT -5
Rip Hunter Lives In The Time Stream!
By House Of Mystery Have time machine, will travel… through time. It's a simple impetus to follow, and he thought he did it well. Creating a time sphere in the dawn of the new millennium was bound to raise a few eyebrows, obviously, but the eyebrows raised… well they weren't really important. "Hack!" "Maniac!" "Loser!" "Failure!" All those insults were spoken and they didn't go down well with the scientist known as Richard Hunter. So you know what he did one thundering, rainy night in Ivy Town? He activated his machine. He closed the door and he found a purpose. It's a peculiar thing, traveling alone in the rivers of time. For so many of his years he just watched through a small hole he and his colleagues created, a tiny pool of time that allowed people to watch the first Homo-Sapiens be born, for the second ever time war to be started, and for the third coming of Jesus Christ, robot fighter, to occur. It was a time of discovery and imagination, and it all happened in Ivy Town, USA. He thought… With access to the time stream, and the intricacies there in, he could make a difference, defend the fabric of existence or whatever. Or so the brochure claims. He was now nothing in the grand scheme of things, just one man in a retro-futuristic time traveling Chronosphere, hopping from time line to time line, checking for things that should not be… |
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:42:34 GMT -5
The time sphere was working, the last remnant of his former life, all the information gathered from the time pool stored in a hard drive hard wired into existence. The power stored within this hollow metal globe that hurtled through time was so immense that if it were to be discharged… Existence would 'pop' and only it would exist. So he's had to deal with some threats to his existence, teamed up with some heroes that have been forgotten in the interim, and fought immortals from one end of eternity to the other. He was even trapped in prehistoric times once, but he got over that… He escaped, moved on… He had no home; he had no purpose, other than that to protect the time stream. That was his duty, and he did so with pride. He was alone… No comrades or friends… So he just rolled around… In the time stream, and did what he could do prevent blocks in time, for scars to appear in reality, and so he traveled from era to era, hoping and praying that he reached a continuity that he could call his own. Continuity, you ask? We'll get to that some other time.
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:43:32 GMT -5
The old radio blared music from the 31st Century, some kind of tribute to a group of heroes referred to as the LEGION, but he didn't really care, nor did he like it so he turned the knob and listened to something else, some kind of native folk tune, but an intriguing mix of strings and drums nonetheless. He fiddled with the controls, and then relaxed, leaning back in his chair to take a break from his calculations and equations. It'd been a quiet 24 hours, no villains attempted the ultimate evil and traveled back in time to kill their enemies in the crib, and no rogue elements in the time stream to send hurtling back whence they came. He'd occasionally locate an entropy wave, a mass of uncontrollable energy that one must ride to survive, and those were the worst things to be met with, the destructive force able to reduce entire continuities to ash and shadow.
He looked behind him, and swung his chair around to look at the radio blaring the strange music, and then pressed a switch, and changed the tune into something more to his liking, something from the 20 th Century. He smiled and bopped along with the music, and then scratched his bearded jaw, and began to sing along.
"Well I never pray… But tonight I'm on my knees yeah, I need to hear some sounds that recog…" He paused, and then scrambled towards the main window outwards into the time stream, and then rubbed the condensation off the glass. "What in God's…" The sphere rocked, and he slammed backwards onto the floor, and then rolled head over heel, his papers flew everywhere. He grabbed his chair, and pulled himself up, and strapped himself down, the music blaring behind him, and then with a fiddle of the togs and levers he stabilized the sphere, only to hear a strange noise emerge from outside. What had hid time?
"Didn't feel… Like an entropy wave… Too sudden… Waves wash, waves like the tide, tide like water, and that was like a tornado in the time stream…" He mumbled as he grabbed his black jacket and pulled it on, and then opened the small door that led to the outside. He felt for his laser gun at his side, and then walked outside, only to feel warm air on his face. What was that?
"Can I help you?" He spun around as he pulled out his weapon, ready for anything, and then shook his head, surprise covered his face. "No need for the weapon, friend… We're all one and the same here…" The man who spoke was black, a thin beard moved over his top lip and then down across his chin. "Welcome to Chronopolis… Or what's left of it."
Rip looked around, totally confused at the sight around him. Everything was a ruin, a Victorian city sprawled across a desert, spires and towers jutted out of the sand, and undying fires flickered out of nowhere. "Chronopolis?" Rip holstered his weapon and ran his gloved hand through his blonde hair. "What's a Chronopolis?" He inquired, totally confused. "And how is it… Like this?"
The man stepped forward. "Like this? A long tale not of importance right now. I am Mordecai, servant of the Countess Fiorella Della Ravenna, time traveling noble and adventuress of time."
"Hey, Mordecai… I'm Ripley Hunter… Rip. Uh… Of the time stream…"
"You have a time machine, and… You do not belong to a time organization?" Mordecai's eyes widen, confused. "Like the Linear Men?"
Rip bit his bottom lip, and pulled his jacket tight around his body, an unearthly chill swept across the landscape. "Linear Men? I have no idea what you mean, I just drift through time trying not to get destroyed by the Entropy Waves…"
"They did worsen some time back, didn't they? My sensors detected that."
"Yeah, I'm being thrown from one time line to another, and I'm just hanging on by the skin of my teeth…" He laughed. "What happened to this place? How many are you are left, Mordecai?"
"I am the last. I've been here for years. My systems are seizing and I have lost some data, so you’ll have to excuse me…" He sat and placed his hand on his head, shaking it.
"You're an android, are you not? I can fix your systems, I think, if you give me a chance?" Rip placed his hand out, and Mordecai looked up, his gray eyes flickering.
"You are… Alone… What would you know about fixing my systems?"
Rip smiled, sitting besides the man. "Just because I'm not some high flying, higher consciousness like some of the people I've bumped into these last few years, doesn't mean I haven't picked up some know how. So?"
Mordecai bowed his head, smiling slightly at the offer. "I would appreciate it… Any technology here is yours if you--"
THRABOOOM!
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:44:18 GMT -5
Out of nowhere, the sand exploded, and the two men doubled back as strange creatures moved towards them. Inhuman sights with strange malformed arms pulled themselves out of the sand, their eyes bursting open as the sand left their slick bodies. As the two men watched, the beings began to head towards the time sphere, screeching and wailing as they went.
"Time vermin! Continuity dissolvers!" Mordecai ran towards them, but Rip grabbed his shoulder, nearly pulling his own out as he did. "What are you doing!? They mean to kill us!"
"Direct, physical confrontation will get us nowhere. I've faced these creatures before, they won't stand up to…" He took out his laser gun and fired off a few rounds into the lead creature, but the beasts’ hides absorbed his weapon fire, and they continued to rattle onwards. "Holy Crap!"
Mordecai spit his words, emotion beamed from the androids eyes. "These fell through time! Fell through time from the future, evolved since whenever you faced them… We have to—Good god!" The creatures erupted from underneath them, and the crashed time sphere rumbled and fell into the sand below, leading Rip to scream a 22 nd century curse word and then leap after his home. "RIP!"
How is it you know you've made a terrible mistake as soon as you've done it, and not before? Rip fell through the quickly closing tunnel of sand and dust. His eyes filled with the granules of sand, and he held back the urge to scream, knowing good and well that the red sands would fill his every orifice, and then his lungs, and then every nook and cranny of his body. He fell as he reached out, and then felt the cold metallic handle beneath his fingers. He latched onto it and pulled himself close. He pulled himself across the sphere's hull until he reached a door panel that he wrenched open and then fell inside. The entrance quickly sealed after he had entered.
"Oh baby, you're not getting away that easily." He shoke the sand from his hair and coughed out the bits of dust he had breathed in. Rip then ran over to his control panel, and looked outwards. Rip saw the strange creatures band together and dulled the sphere to their nests. "Scavengers. Vermin…" He shoke his head. "They probably came up after our energy supply, didn't they? Oh, no, no, no… We can't have that…" He powered up the chronogenerator and then pulled up a panel beneath him, and slipped into the inner workings of his ship. "Hopping out of here isn't an option… But…" He took out his penknife, yanked open another control panel, and pulled out a mass of wires. "Redirecting the chrono wave would, in theory…" He slit the casing off two wires, and then exposed them. As he cut them he felt the ship rumble and shake. He tied them back together. He put his knife away, pulled himself out of the mechanism, and back into the control section of his ship. Rip threw a switch, pressed a load of buttons and then waited. And waited. "Oh, don't quit on me baby. Don't quit on me!" He slammed his fist onto the panel and the machine lit up, a wave of energy burst outwards into the tunnel and automatically aged the creatures, causing them to disintegrate into dust. The sand around Rip turned black, and then the ship was suspended beneath the ground, leaving him sitting precariously trapped beneath the surface. "Oh you did good, you did good, baby…" He smiled and took his knife out of his pocket. He then hoped back underneath the ships main floor, and undid the damage he'd done before.
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 16:44:57 GMT -5
The ship rumbled as it popped back out of the hole it had been dragged down into it. Rip swung open his door, hopped out, and walked over to Mordecai. "Sorry about that, Mordecai… Couldn't let my baby be trapped underneath the sands, because you know… I'd be trapped above. Now about helping your systems …" Rip shook his head, confused. He looked at the android, which smiled slightly. "What?"
"Look. Up." Mordecai pointed up. Rip turned his eyes upwards and then a smile struck him too. The city was floating up in the air once more; the towers and spires free from the sands below and reunited with the skies above. "You redirected your chrono generator, am I right? You aged the vermin but up here, with the already time enriched debris of my home… It did the opposite… Your wave of energy sent the city flying back up! You've returned Chronopolis to its former glory!"
Rip smiled and scratches his chin. "Does that mean I'm a hero?" He laughed, and walked back to the sphere. "Come on, Mordecai… Wanna have a look at your old home?"
"RIP HUNTER!" The duo turned as a massive rock came into view, floating above the sands and appeared like a mirage would.
"Oh my. Vanishing point." Mordechai said. Rip turned to him, confused. "You better go with them Rip…"
"I don't even … know who they are …"
Mordecai shrugged. "But they know you …"
The End?
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 17:47:20 GMT -5
Superman: Obit part 2 (of 3)
Written by Julian Balrup I looked at Lana as she slept away in my arms. I really hoped she had some nice dreams, I had thought. All that I heard was the screams of her mother, but I wouldn’t budge. I just stood there and turned towards Smallville and then towards the city horizon in the opposite direction, I knew what I had to do. I hated it but I knew what I had to do. I started to head back with Lana in tow; we were there in mere seconds. I decided to make it for my house first, there I lay Lana on my porch. Then I ran towards her house next, I heard nothing, no screams, just the flames roaring. When I got there the house was in a blaze, I wondered that if I went in, could the fire really hurt me? I mean with all the stuff I did that night I really wonder if it that would be far off to think fire couldn’t hurt me. Regardless, I ran into the inferno without knowing what lie ahead, into the great unknown. Upon entering the house, my vision was useless to me, all I saw was thick black smoke, and I had to rely on my other senses to guide me. There was no direction I could move in which I didn’t hit something, so I just stood still. I figured if Lana’s mom was still alive then maybe I could hear her, God I had hope I heard her. All I heard was the crackling of the wood as it was burning down and then I heard a whistling sound like a teapot. Oh my God the stove was on! The fire must have started in the kitchen! With that I tried walking towards the kitchen or at least where the kitchen would be, I focused my hearing towards that direction and I heard a faint sound of a drum, it was a heartbeat. I made my way towards the whistling, the fire didn’t hurt at all in fact it was just my clothes that really got damaged. Man, ma is going be ticked was all I thought. As I drew closer my vision kept getting better, clearer for some reason. I began to see past the fire and into the kitchen. There she was just laying on the floor helpless, Lana’s mom. I picked her up and ran towards the back door and kicked it open and exited the burning house. As soon as we reached the outside, I leaned her against a tree at least 15 feet away from her house and took off. I ran towards my house, I had to think fast, how I should handle all of this? I headed straight to my room, passing Lana along the way, there I changed into a new shirt that looked similar to the one I had on. My parents I remembered as I passed their room. I ran back to my porch, and I just stood in front of Lana. I stared at her while I heard the sirens of what’s to be the fire trucks. They were too late, brushed through my mind. Her eyes were beginning to open up; she sat up and just started to rub them profusely. “Clark…” her voice was weary. “Clark I had the strangest dream…you were running so fast.” “Lana, your mom was giving you a hard time so I brought you to my place, you fell asleep,” I said. Good cover Clark. She gave me this look, a look you could never forget, no emotion, it was just blank. Lana stood up and embraced me, she held on for the longest time. If I had one moment in my life I could freeze and just keep in place it would be that embrace. I couldn’t forget the way it felt, it made me forget all the unbelievable stuff that I did that night. I couldn’t compare it to that, not even if I tried. She had this way about her. It was as though she had this “superpower,” she could make you forget that the world spins. She was really my first love, and even in the end of my life I’ll remember her and what she meant to me. She didn’t she remember a thing not until that one night a few years later… |
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 17:52:37 GMT -5
I paused for a moment from my writing. I had been typing away for minutes when I completely lost all train of thought. I thought back to Lana and couldn’t remember what I was saying. I went back and read it and the words seemed foreign to him. Lana didn’t suffer through those events. I didn’t recall ever pausing when someone’s life was in danger, even during the early days as I discovered my powers. Yet… It was as though I was recalling someone else’s memories. But they seemed real. How could I recall a memory so clear yet it’s not mine? Maybe it was all the stress I’d been under recently with Brainiac, the crisis, and the tragedy that followed? Maybe it was something else?
Again I paused. Maybe I needed to reconsider why I was writing this obituary; because I couldn’t recall the reason I sat down to begin with. I would resume writing again after I was able to clear my head and shake what could only be describe as an extreme case of déjà vu.
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Post by Romans Empire on Oct 31, 2006 17:58:04 GMT -5
I continued writing several days later…
Some reporters view stories in terms of headlines. Good reporters look at the stories beyond the headline and analyze the impact they will have on the people involved with the story. One such headline might be…
I am Superman.
Three simple little words but something I hardly ever recall saying out loud to anyone. But so much of my life has been defined by the impact of those words. It’s hard to recall a time now that I wasn’t the Man of Steel or the Man of Tomorrow or one of many labels I would acquire through the years.
As I’m writing this, I’m looking out the window next to me, and I notice the birds flying in the clear bright sky, I remember one of my first nights out there amongst them… as Superman.
Many of the papers published stories about my exploits, some written by myself. But there were always moments that went unwritten. One night after I stopped an armed robbery at a local deli I decided to take a break. I figured that the local police could handle the situations they were more accustomed to dealing with on a daily basis. I went to my normal place, if you want to know where it is just look up in the sky. Trust me it’s not a bird, nor a plane.
I just flew up to the highest point, where I didn’t touch space. Once I reached there, I just floated. The stars were draped across the velvet sky, but the noise wouldn’t go away. You see, super hearing can both be a gift and a curse. I can hear the happiness in the voices of children in England, but I can also listen to the crying of the starving children of Ethiopia. They are trapped in that state, and escape is useless.
I began to wonder to myself, why can’t all children, no correction, all people be happy? The politicians with all there so called “power” can help change the lives of these people, with a single action, but no. It’s their ego that gets in the way, their pride. There too caught up in the own damn affairs to deal with the real problem that is truly at hand!
I felt tears well up in my eyes as I lay out against the night sky that evening.
The world powers are too worried about what the other guy is doing to be bothered with anything else. If was up to me…
Then I stopped thinking. The tear couldn’t find its way out. Some have labeled me the world’s biggest boy scout, which is somewhat unfair. I am a humanitarian first and foremost.
If I continued then maybe I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I continued, regardless. I could change this world with my own hands, at what cost though? If you make the human life perfect, then they should have no reason to complain. Things such as murder and poverty would be the thing of the past. Then I remember Pa. "Ya know if you want too, bad enough, you could go up there one day. To the stars I mean.” Suppose I made everyone’s life perfect, then no one would have that ambition or hope to go up there. But, is that a good trade off? No, I guess not. I’ll do my best to help them without compromising their freedoms. I can’t save the whole world but I’ll try, and maybe people will follow my example. Yeah, one save at a time.
Then I heard a boy in Miaoli County, west of Taiwan, his hands are trembling. He’s holding a gun, as to how he got one is another story. He’s trying mug a poor couple for what little they own. I had to stop it. I leaned forward and threw myself against the wind.
When I landed there, I failed to notice the mountainous area the majesty of it all. At the moment all that was on my mind was the kid, the kid and his gun. He pulled the trigger. I can make in time, I thought. I began to run towards the bullet, everything to me was in slow motion, like you would see in the movies. I saw the elderly man’s face was pushed back by the impending impact. His wife, her face the expression, so filled with fear. I extended my hand and reached out in front of his face. I caught the bullet. The man fell clutching his chest. Then the boy, who couldn’t be any older than fifteen, took off with gun in hand. The wife dropped to her knees holding the hand of her husband, I looked inside his chest as he gasped for air. It appeared he wasn’t having a heart attack but an acute Angina. I picked him up and rushed him to the nearest medical facility. Then I went back for his wife and rushed her to her husband’s side. He was shaken by the event, but ultimately fine.
I knew what I had to do next; I went looking for the boy. I heard him talking, it’s just where he was I didn’t know. All I heard was him pleading to someone for forgiveness.
“It’s not fair! They should have just given the money to….(Sniff)...to me.! God! Why? Please, I just wanted money for mama! It’s not fair…all I needed was money.”
I heard his arm beginning to raise, then a clink sound. I continue to listen and continue to search.
“I just wanted a life, a happy life, but I guess I’m not entitled to that. Maybe it’s hope I lack.”
I noticed it had started to rain, and then I heard a single shot fired.
I recalled what happened after that and decided not to write what I found, not here.
From that night forward I began to realize something. People don’t need a god who watches from the sky, but they do need hope. They need someone who is grounded like them, who dreams, someone who can show them that hope exists.
To be concluded…
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Post by Romans Empire on Nov 1, 2006 1:28:21 GMT -5
Blue Devil: Hollywood Nights part 2 (of 3)
Written by John Elbe Dan Cassidy began to stir from a sound sleep. He rubbed his eyes and forehead as he tried to recall what happened last night. There was drinking, celebrating, and…he couldn’t remember what all happened. “Oh my God!” Dan whispered as he looked over and saw the woman lying next to him in bed, asleep. It was one of his roommates, Janelle. That was not a good sign. She began to stir, so Dan quickly and quietly slid out of the bed. He tiptoed to the bathroom and shut the door. What was he thinking? He life was finally going in the right direction. Principle filming on the Blue Devil movie was just a few weeks away and he didn’t need any complications. Alcohol or no alcohol, sleeping with Janelle was a complication. Dan shared a four-bedroom house with three other people including Janelle. Janie, as everyone called her moved in about four months ago. Last year she appeared on a reality television program and was instantly a fan favorite. In the end, she didn’t win the competition and when a new season of the show began, Janie was on her way to being forgotten as a new crop of instant stars quickly were consumed by the viewing public. Janie was bound and determined to survive past her fifteen minutes of fame. She moved out to Hollywood to pursue an acting career. She quickly found that Hollywood wasn’t waiting for her with open arms. She continued to struggle but was determined to break in. She was a sweet kid just past the age of twenty-two. Dan liked her a lot but he knew better then to let last night happen. He couldn’t afford to move out if things were to get ugly between them. He had sunk every last cent he had into the creation of the Blue Devil suit. The producer on the film, Marla Bloom, promised him a check to cover some living expenses but that was weeks away and she didn’t have a good track record of keeping promises as of late. Dan quickly jumped in the shower in hopes that Janelle would slip out while he was in there, avoiding any awkward morning after confrontation. When he was finished, he slowly opened the door and found that she was indeed gone. With a smile of relief on his face he dressed and headed down stairs. “Morning Dan.” Colby said as Dan walked into the kitchen, “Coffee’s on in case you need it.” Colby was a script doctor or, as he liked to refer to himself, a hatchet man. Colby was hired by movie and television studios to take scripts they’d purchased and beef them up. Sometimes he just cleaned up dialogue, trimmed the fluff, or rewrote entire scenes. He never got onscreen credit but he claimed to have worked on hundreds of scripts that had been made into movies over the past eight years. His favorite pick-up line, ‘Did you see that one scene in that one movie? I wrote that.’ The ironic thing about Colby’s profession is that he’s yet to get one of his own scripts sold to the studio’s there for eluding the big payday he’s been dreaming of since moving out here from New York. “Rough night last night.” Colby said as more of a statement then a question. “Don’t start on me this morning.” Dan said as he sat down at the breakfast nook with a cup of coffee. “Hey how long have we been roommates, three, four years? All I am saying was I told you it was a bad idea having her move in here. One of us was bound to sleep with her.” Colby laughed as he typed away at his laptop. “Yeah, well I always thought it would have been you using one of your cheesy lines like, ‘Hey have you seen Titanic or the elevator scene in Jerry Maguire?’” “Well it’s a good thing that Karisa wasn’t here last night as well. Who knows, you might have ended up sleeping with her because you certainly had as much to drink as I did.” Dan replied. “True but I have the one thing you lack my friend, and that’s control. Plus Karisa pays one forth of the rent on this place and we can’t afford it on our own until you hit it big with your movie.” “Your telling me the only reason you haven’t slept with Karisa yet is because you’re afraid to lose the extra rent money? I see how you look at her. You’re just afraid she will shoot you down.” “Shoot me down? Listen, the only thing worse then sleeping with a soap star in Hollywood…is sleeping with a reality TV chick who can’t even get on a soap!” “Your funny but it defiantly was a mistake.” Dan said, sipping his coffee unaware that Janelle was standing in the doorway behind them. “You’re both pigs and have no room to talk, either of you!” She announced as she came into the room. “Opps.” Colby muttered under his breath. “Especially you, Dan. How dare you judge me just because you finally have work thanks to that desperate wench from that B-movie studio!” Taken aback, Dan stood up to face her. “What was the last gig you had, Janie, other then an appearance on that god awful reality series on MTV about a bunch of superhero wannabes, the Power Company?” “It was Powers Inc. and it paid quiet well thank you very much!” “How well did it pay when you didn’t do anything more then do cut intros to the actual people on the show?” “It was a sweet job! I got an all expense paid trip to tropical paradise.” “Kooeykooeykooey? Didn’t that island come alive and try to eat everyone?” Colby stated like it was nothing. “I worked on a killer tan there and made plenty of contacts in the industry.” “And how many of those contacts have called you back? That’s right, none! Unless to count the skin mag that wants you to show off your tan lines in a five page pictorial! Well trust me I seen ‘em and they would be disappointed!” “Why you no talent son-of-a…” “That’s enough out of both of you!” Colby stood up and quickly moved in between them. Janelle grunted and then stepped away. “You know what’s funny about the whole thing Dan? Blue Devil may turn out to be the biggest movie of the summer next year but it won’t do squat for your career! You know why, because no one even knows or cares who played Yoda or Chewbacca. They were just freaks in a suit, just like you will be!” Janelle turned to Colby who was trying not to laugh. “What’s so funny?” She snapped. He thought about it for a moment and then decided to tell her anyways, “Yoda was a puppet.” “Isn’t everyone in Hollywood?” She said before storming off. |
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Post by Romans Empire on Nov 1, 2006 1:29:11 GMT -5
Two weeks later...
Dan Cassidy sat in lot number five in one of the newest motion picture studios, twenty miles south of Hollywood.
“Marla this is simply amazing.” He said as he extended is arms outward. “Did you know that there are over twenty-two acres of land here to play with?”
“Yes I do.” She said standing across from him with her arms folded, “But I can’t tell whether you’re impressed or surprised.”
“Honestly? A little of both! When you said you got a new deal I never pictured it would be with Verner Brother studios! My God Marla this is the big time here!”
“Well don’t get your pretty new blue costume in a bunch. I never said that the deal was with both brothers.” She said as Dan stopped what he was doing and stood up, “The brothers split up so we only got the backing of one of them.”
“Please tell me it isn’t Jock.”
“It’s Jock.”
“Damn it Marla! None of us are getting paid now. That tightwad blow hard isn’t interested in making movies, only money! It was his brother Harvey that made their company the name it is in the industry today.”
“Well he broke away from his brother to make movies so and we got a deal alright? Besides that isn’t the worst news your going to hear today.”
“Sharon Scott backed out?” Dan said nervously.
“No your little girlfriend didn’t back out. But Jock decided that he couldn’t back the movie with a no name in the lead role.”
“So I am out?” Dan screamed.
“No you’re not exactly out but you will be stuck in that suit of yours for quiet awhile. You see, you still get to play the part of Blue Devil but only from inside the suit. Jock made the call and brought in Wayne Tarrant as the lead.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? This is ridiculous!” Dan said as he began to walk away. It’s like my worst day in High school all over again!”
Dan looked up and a beautiful blonde woman in a stunning white sundress, stood directly in front of him. “Hello Dan.”
“Hello Sharon.” He said as is demeanor completely changed. “I…I didn’t expect you for another couple of hours. The principle photographer isn’t here yet to do our test shots and…”
“I wanted to talk to you first before we got started and there wasn’t time.” She said softly as she came right up to him and kissed him on the lips, “I am sorry about everything between us before. Things just got crazy you know?”
“I know that you became a Hollywood starlet and kinda lost my number.” Dan said unable to pull away from her.
“Well, it’s been a long five months and I was hoping since we’re going to work together that maybe we could…start over?” She pouted her lips and pressed herself up against him again.
“You know I can’t resist you when you do that.” He said cracking a smile, “But I will be in the suit longer then I expected. Besides with Tarrant here I…”
“Forget about Tarrant. And as for the suit…” She said as she teased the top button of his shirt, “I will wait till you’re out of it and then pounce you! GGRRR!”
Dan stood there and smiled. This was one complication he could certainly live with!
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Post by Romans Empire on Nov 1, 2006 1:30:00 GMT -5
Two hours later…
Norm Paxton, the director of photography looked through his camera as Dan stood there against a backdrop in the Blue Devil Suit.
“Now turn and face the camera and point the trident up in the air. After that I wanna get a couple of shots with you and Sharon together.” Norm yelled and pointed as he looked through the camera lens.
Dan had spent day and night working on this suit for months. This was going to be his biggest break not only as an actor but he also planned on revolutionizing the special effects and stunt person industry with this suit. A unique blend of latex and kevlar, the suit was designed to imitate nearly all the special effects needed with little to no GCI touchup work needed in postproduction.
Now here he stood trapped inside the suit that would become nothing more then a prop once the star of the movie arrived on the set in a few days. He continued to sulk and barely noticed Marla frantically running toward him.
“Dan! Dan! It’s all gone wrong!” She yelled as she ran up to him.
“Marla you’re messing up the test shot!” He yelled motioning her away.
“Forget about that! You have to understand! I was a little drunk and a lot desperate! I never expected it was real! It was Wayne’s idea and I thought he was joking! Said we could ask a favor and when it was granted we would finally be rich and famous!” Marla continued franticly.
“Wait! When were you and Wayne? What favor from whom? Marla I really don’t…”
“There’s no more time we have to leave now! It’s Nebiros! He’s real and he’s going to kill us all!”
“What the hell is a Neb…” Dan began to say before Marla screamed at the dark shadow that suddenly appeared from above them. Dan looked up just in time to be driven to the ground by the large monster that landed on him. The monster looked around the set and smiled.
“Did one of you little pastries ring the dinner bell cause it’s… FEEDIN’ TIME!”
To be concluded…
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Post by mockingbird on Jul 28, 2011 13:35:43 GMT -5
To let us know what you think of this issue, please visit the letters page here!
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